#like today i asked her a question about it because the stupid book is contradicting itself

[krispiecake]

group has put me in a foul mood now im so pissed off at everything i had to stop myself yelling at like 3 people while just trying to buy my meal deal

[curiousconch]

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 1)

Part 1: Burning on the Edge of Something Beautiful

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Alex finds herself personally affected by the Rothswell case and Gabe attempts to find out why.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 1.8k+

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / implied sexual content, alcohol consumption

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogues belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

Wednesday Evening at McGraw Byrne

Back from a day in the courts, Gabe stepped out of the elevator and into the halls of McGraw Byrne. Eager to finish the day's work, he passed by the break room where he unwittingly heard something that made him instantly halt.

"Did you see how clammed up Keating became when you asked her that question?" Gabe heard Vanderweil's deep voice.

"Actually, I sensed something irked her during the ride back. Seems like I did strike a chord," a serious female voice replied, which Gabe presumed was Sinclair's.

He made the assumption that the line of conversation was about their visit to the Rothswell's mansion. Earlier that day, the law firm's major client Philip Rothswell, demanded that they see to the whole Lydia and Joey situation. So Gabe and Sadie instructed the associates to go see the young heiress, trying to give the firm more time to create a more solid strategy than playing family counselor.

When they were placating Rothswell, he noticed how Alex fidgeted in her chair as she listened to their client. The way her body pulled up every defensive stance in the book full with meaning.

Seems that what he just overheard confirmed his suspicions. Something was bothering Alex Keating. And like all things Alex, it piqued at his curiosity.

It irked him that he did, more than he was willing to admit. Seems like even as trivial as office gossip, as long as its about her, Gabe is guaranteed to take notice.

Hastening his strides, he continued on to his plush new office, the setting sun coloring the wood furnishings with a hue of orange. He tossed his briefcase on the khaki couch, his leather soles padding on the clean white carpet. Loosening his tie, he crossed the room towards his desk. He took off his coat, hanging it on the rack nearby and turned to face the glass walls which offered a much better view of the concrete jungle below.

His mind whirred as he rationalized with himself as to why he was so invested with Alex. He initially chalked it up as a familiar, primal response to her... attractiveness. Yet as he watched her emerge from every pressure test and challenge he and Sadie gave her, he can't help but root for her.

It's not just that. After a long time, Gabe wanted to be near someone. He wanted to hear what bothers them, their goals, even their history. A level of interest he never exhibited to his usual carnal pursuits.

She stirred up something sleeping within him, something he willed never to return.

Consumed by the thoughts of her, Gabe finds himself glancing at his Rolex and hatching a guise to know what made the mighty Alex Keating got so worked up about.

**

Sometime later, uptown New York

"Alex... Have you ever had someone like Joey mess with your head? It's not about smart or stupid," Gigi had asked.

Alex poked her fork at the piece of chocolate soufflé as her mind whirled back to the ride back to the office.

"I'm not buying you any more of that Riesling if you wouldn't even bother being a worthy companion," Gabe teased, before downing another glass of scotch across her.

Her head immediately perked up, breaking free from her introspection. Alex forced a smile in response.

"As if another glass would make a dent in your indomitable fortune," she leaned back, trying to hide her thoughts under the façade of her sarcasm, rolling her eyes at him for added effect.

The two find themselves in a swanky New York restaurant, its upscale interior design worthy of the five star Yelp rating. The sleek tables and gray scandinavian chairs made Alex grateful that her wine red dress fit among the crowd. With a private booth overlooking the city lights and the delicious gourmet food served, she did not regret accepting Gabe's dinner invitation to meet a client.

Her mind decided that more work and Gabe's company was a great way to distract herself from the nagging of her memories, and it didn't hurt that the senior partner was easy on the eyes.

And when the supposed big shot canceled at the last minute, Alex completely saw it as a win.

"Something bothers you." Gabe suddenly articulated, breaking her from her contemplations.

Alex's brow arched in reply, as Gabe stated it like a fact, not as a question.

Crossing her legs under the table, she folded her arms across her chest.

"And why does that concern my pretend-boyfriend, hm?" she interjected, hoping to evade his interrogation.

"You're not the only astute one in this booth," Gabe let his eyes trail across her defensive stance the second time today.

Throughout the course of their meal, the heat between them simmered as well as the flow of their usual banter. Their chemistry was palpable, convincing even the waiter of the restaurant. The cocky man was certainly redefining the phrase hot and cold for Alex. He quickly and easily shut down her attempts to flirt, pulling back when the temperature between them reached a boiling point.

But Alex was more surprised, pleasantly so, when Gabe briefly opened up about his past and the vague explanation of why he's still not settled down.

She sensed the current trajectory of their conversation was what Gabe planned to have all along.

But now, as she swirled the remaining expensive liquid in her glass, trying to decide whether to put her guards up or to just give in, she couldn't deny the uncharacteristic softness in his gaze. It was magnetizing, making Alex want to fold and drop her pretentions.

She watched him as he seemed to eagerly anticipate for her retort, a half smile lingering on that pretty mouth of his.

Alex knew he won't push her if she didn't want to, yet a part of her wanted to share the heaviness that weighed on her shoulder since meeting Lydia Rothswell. Of how much the teenager reminded her of her old, naïve self.

She's been trying to rack her brain for a reasonable explanation for her growing desire to introduce herself to Gabe more than she'd allowed the string of men that she had trysts with. Despite her continuous self-denial, her gut is telling her that Gabe wasn't like any other she crossed paths with.

Making up her mind, she decided to let the door open. Maybe just a little.

She sipped her wine beckoning some needed courage, wishing that she ordered something stronger.

Taking a deep breath, she began, her eyes fixed on the view behind him.

"Since you were wondering, my otherwise impeccable track record is stained by one mistake," she paused, finally turning her gaze to Gabe's waiting eyes.

"Like Lydia, I trusted the wrong person," she continued. "I... risked everything and got nothing."

Gabe's mouth twitched ever so slightly, sensing a fluttering in him because of Alex's candor. There was no trace of the witty comebacks he'd grown to see in her, only vulnerability.

And somehow, he adored her more.

He watched her as she bit her thumbnail, an action greatly contradicting the fiery personality she projected in front of everyone else.

Alex gritted her teeth as she fought back the overwhelming emotions as she stopped herself from revealing more than she's prepared to. Not yet, not tonight, she thought.

"But I woke up from that nightmare, solemnly swearing to myself that I wouldn't repeat the same wrong decision that almost railroaded my whole future," she concluded, determined not to expose herself any further.

A hush fell between them.

Alex raised her head to meet the eyes of the man that made her walls crack, expecting to find intrigue. Instead, she found a subtle look of understanding.

It's as if it was telling her that he knew. He knew every pain and every hurt that she wanted to just forget and bury inside a box, never to be opened again.

Just because for him, pain was a familiar companion. That like her, he too, has been through hell and back.

And while she relished under his attention, her breath slowed, letting herself be trapped within the depths of those reassuring brown eyes. Alex thought nothing can make her drop down her guard, but Gabe's next actions proved that there's still more he can do to break down her walls.

Without thinking, Gabe reached for her hand and took it in his, skimming his own thumb on her knuckles in an attempt to comfort her. He smiled warmly at her, expressing a gentleness that she never thought he was capable of.

It made Alex's heart skip a beat.

Even Gabe seemed to slowly enter the same daze, unable to veer away from Alex's unguarded view. Any remnants of his resistance, leaving him. He found himself leaning in, lured by the heady scent of her perfume - a mix of coffee, vanilla and jasmine. An unexpected combination that enticed him more to her.

For a few moments, their world stood still, as if they were on the edge of discovering something that all their lives they subconsciously sought.

Something more than any flirtation or any pursuit for lustful pleasure. Something more...

"More drinks, Gabe?" a familiar voice broke them from the temporary oasis that they pulled themselves in.

All of a sudden, they were sucked back to the reality of their actual surroundings. The noise of other patrons of the restaurant, the soft ambience of the lights overhead, and the fact that he was her current boss, and that she was under his professional supervision.

Gabe turned to James, their waiter, and refused the offer nonchalantly, and instead asked for their check.

"We should head back to the salt mines, the stack of work on my desk probably hasn't gotten any smaller since we left," Gabe casually said, erasing any trace of what just happened between them. Alex silently agreed, following his queue by checking her phone for emails.

The trip to the lobby was wordless, as well as the wait for their ride. Up until Gabe opened the door of the town car, not following Alex inside.

"Aren't you coming?" Alex inquired, briefly confused.

He cleared his throat, his expression stoic before he answered her. "I think its best if we part ways here. I wasn't kidding about needing to head back to the office," he paused, a look of contemplation in his eyes before it softly shifted to that of sincerity.

"You, on the other hand, should go home and get some rest. Partner's orders."

Alex couldn't help but smile. "Whatever you say, Gabe."

"Careful, Alex. I just might hold you to that promise one of these days," Gabe replied, the usual playfulness evident in his tone.

And with that, the door closed and the car pulled away.

But as Gabe watched the vehicle fade out of his sight, his phone pinged for an email. Glancing down at his screen, he saw the name of the sender, prompting him to open it in haste.

The message contained a single statement: "I found what you asked me to look for." An attachment was included.

When he opened the file, he saw a picture of a younger version of the woman he just parted from.

And a look of recognition passed over his face.

Author's Notes: This is getting a little canon divergent, though I'm just expanding their dinner conversation and using the intimate setting provided in the original book.

Tags: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @choicesficwriterscreations

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed on succeeding installments. If not, please reblog or comment, I'd really appreciate it!

[janetbrown711]

Please write the part about Wakko you know what

Important note: This fic is part of my Angelina the First lives au, and as such is part of a different universe/storyline and plot than the rest of my fics. To read about the au/alternate timeline, click here.

Yakko loved studying. He loved learning, and growing, and obtaining more knowledge and skills in any way he could. His dad said he got it from his mother, though his grandma said her mother was a lot more “foolish with her knowledge” than he was, whatever that meant. 

In truth, Yakko had known his grandmother his whole life, and he still didn’t know what to make of her. Sure, his mom and dad constantly contradicted her or told him she was wrong, but Yakko wasn’t sure. A lot of what his grandmother said made sense, as far as he could tell. A good king should be focused on expanding his knowledge and on his people, not on frivolities like playing with toys or with his little brother. It just made sense. 

Speaking of his brother... 

“Yakko! Which is cooler? Red or blue?” Wakko shoved his toy soldier’s into his brother’s face. Yakko rolled his eyes. 

“Wakko, I don’t care,” He scoffed. Wakko frowned. 

“But how will you play then?” Wakko asked. 

“Wakko, I don’t want to play, I have my lesson with Grandma soon,” Yakko said, turning the page in his book. 

“So we should play nowwww,” Wakko whined, placing the toys on his book. 

“Wakko, go away, I’m studying” Yakko huffed in annoyance, pushing the toys off of the book. Wakko sighed, taking back his toys, but instead of going away, he pulled out a chair and sat next to his brother. 

“Whatcha readin’?” He asked. 

“I’m reading about the history of agriculture in Warnerstock,” Yakko stated, figuring there was no harm in telling him, and that maybe it might make him go away. 

“Is it good?” Wakko asked with a head tilt. Yakko paused to think. 

“Ehhhhh.... it’s.... okay?” He shrugged, though he knew the answer was no. It was boring, but one of his tutors assigned it, so he had to read it. Yakko then went on with his reading. However, it wasn’t long before Wakko got bored just sitting there, so he stood on the chair, and peered over Yakko’s shoulder. Yakko did his best to ignore it, but, quite frankly, his brother was driving him insane. 

“Oh, would you look at that! I have to go,” Yakko slammed the book shut and stood, almost knocking over Wakko in the process. 

“Can I come?” Wakko asked optimistically. Yakko rubbed his forehead. No matter what he did he just couldn’t shake him. 

“You know Grandma doesn’t like it when you sit in,” Yakko said, standing up and heading out of the study. Wakko followed anyway.

“I can be good this time! Promise!” He said. Yakko shook his head. 

“Go to your room, Wak, I’m sure mom or dad would love to play instead,” Yakko waved him off. 

“Pretty please? I swear I’ll be quiet,” Wakko pleaded. Yakko did his best to keep his eyes forward, but made the fatal flaw of making split-second eye contact with his younger brother, and saw the puppy dog eyes nobody with a soul could refuse. 

“Fine,” Yakko sighed. “Just... sit in the corner and be sure to be extra, extra quiet,” He said. Wakko cheered and ran ahead of Yakko in his excitement to their grandmother’s private study. Yakko eventually made it, and knocked on the door. 

“Yakko, you’re early today,” Angelina the First opened the door. Immediately her eyes went to Wakko. 

“What is he doing here?” She asked. Wakko stepped behind his brother. 

“He just wants to sit in the corner. He’s promised me he’ll be quiet,” Yakko said. 

“Is this true?” The old queen looked at her youngest grandson. Wakko nodded. She rolled her eyes. 

“If I ask you a question, you are to respond, understood?” She glared at him. Wakko gulped. 

“Y-yes, grandma,” He said. The queen rolled her eyes and stepped aside, letting the brothers enter. 

Yakko took his seat at the center table, and Wakko sat in the corner, next to a bunch of dusty books that hadn’t been touched in goodness knew how long. Hopefully, that would keep him quiet and entertained. 

“Now where were we... ah yes, etiquette,” Angelina the First found the book she was looking for and opened it. 

“A good gentlemen always holds the door open for a lady, why is this?” She asked Yakko. 

“Because their dresses can be too big for them to get it themselves,” Yakko said. The queen nodded. 

“That stupid, why don’t they just fix the dresses?” Wakko mumbled in the corner. 

“Excuse me?” The queen looked at him. Wakko immediately shut up, and faced the bookshelf, running his finger across all the spines. She huffed but decided to move on with the lesson anyway. 

Angelina the First continued to quiz Yakko on his knowledge of etiquette, and of which he aced, and to Yakko’s surprise Wakko was actually behaving himself back there.  She then regaled tales of Warnerstocks history, most of it being boring but a few were... less boring here and there. Yakko did his best to pay attention anyway. History was arguably the most bearable of the subjects, though he preferred when it was about geography more.  

However, towards the end of the lesson, the queen started lecturing about her grandfather, King Reginald the 2nd, and how he failed due to his love of frivolous things, such as gold, jewels, and never bothered to do his work as king, playing around with his “playthings” all day instead.

“And that is why as you prepare to become king it is important to put your studies and learning above all else. A wise king is a good king. You don’t want all of your knowledge to be based on what toy you think is the best, do you?” She said, as some sort of joke.

“That’s stupid too!” Wakko crossed his arms. 

“Excuse me, young man, you have no right to talk to me like that,” Angelina the First stood from her chair. 

“Grandma, he doesn’t know-”

“No! I do! That’s stupid!” Wakko stood on his chair. “Yakko should play games if he wants to. Games are fun. Books are boring.”

“Wakkorotti Alan Warner, know your place,” She warned. 

“Games are fun, you and your lessons are stupid and boring!” He shouted. Angelina’s eyes widened in anger. Slowly, she took her gloves off, before walking over to the now petrified Wakko. 

“Grandma he didn’t mean-” Yakko tried to plead. 

“I’ll give you one more chance, Wakkorotti. What. Did. You. Say?” She asked, now standing in front of the four-year-old. 

“Th-that... that your lessons are boring and stupid,” Wakko didn’t back down. Before either brother knew what was happening, she struck him across the face with the back of her hand. Wakko fell onto the floor with a loud crash. 

“Wakko!” Yakko jumped out of his seat and ran to his little brother, but Angelina I held out her arm. 

“Leave him there, he needs to learn, She said coldly. Yakko growled and bit her. 

“Ow! You horrible, horrible child!” Angelina jumped back. Yakko didn’t care, going to Wakko. 

“Wakko? Are you okay?” He asked, panicking because Wakko was barely conscious. 

“M’head hurts,” he mumbled, sitting up. That was kinda good at least... 

“You’ll be punished for this,” Angelina grabbed Yakko’s shoulder and Yakko gnashed his teeth again. The queen wisely stepped back.  

“C’mon Wak, let’s get you fixed up,” Yakko said, helping him up. 

“Rabid sons of a bastard,” The old queen muttered as they walked by, rubbing the bite marks that were on the verge of bleeding. It was far less than she deserved, so Yakko glared at her once more before leaving. 

The brothers walked in silence as they headed off to the kitchen for ice, not knowing what to say about what had happened. Eventually, though, Wakko gave it a shot. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your lesson, Yakko,” He apologized. 

Yakko sighed. “It’s not your fault Wakko, she never should’ve hit you.”

“Grandma is a meanie,” He sniffled, rubbing his fresh bruise. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Yakko said and meant it. 

In truth, as they were walking Yakko noticed how much of a jerk he was before. He brushed him off and for what? Stuffy lessons with a snappy old lady? Now he knew why his parents always contradicted her. They probably trying to prevent something like this from ever happening. 

“I’m sorry too, Wak,” He said. “I’ve been a meanie to you too.”

“S’okay. I forgive you,” Wakko smiled at Yakko, and Yakko cringed at the sight of his bruise, which was only increasing in size. Thankfully, they were almost at the kitchen by now. 

After a short moment of silence, they eventually reached it and Yakko slowly opened the door before peering inside, and upon finding it empty, he opened the door all the way and him and Wakko got in and went towards the back where the freezer was. 

“Yakko? Wakko? What are you two doing here?” Yakko froze when he heard his mother’s voice. He internally facepalmed, realizing he forgot the spice racks blocked the view of the other half of the kitchen from the door.  

“Mummy!” Wakko ran to her and she and William gasped. 

“Wakko, what happened to your face?” She asked as he hugged her leg. 

“Grandmummy got mad and-”

“Grandma did this to you?!” Lena asked, a mix of concern and rage in her voice. 

“Lena...” William warned, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. Lena took in a deep breath. 

“What happened?” William asked Yakko. 

“Well Wakko wanted to sit in during my lesson with her, and he said her lesson was stupid and she got mad...” Yakko kicked the ground. 

“Oh, I’ll kill her,” Angelina growled, looking at the door. 

“Lena, deep breaths,” William reminded, though he looked angry too. Their mother obeyed, though still obviously very upset. 

“I’m so sorry Wakko, dearest. Here- let’s get some ice on that bruise,” She said, with a soft smile, taking Wakko’s hand and taking him to the back. 

“Is that the full story?” William asked. Yakko nodded. 

“He said it was stupid grandma thought that good princes and kings don’t play with toys or have fun,” Yakko said. 

“Your grandmother is wrong about that, and a great number of things,” William sighed. Yakko nodded. 

“...I bit her,” he whispered. William blinked. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He asked, not quite sure if he heard it right. 

“I bit her, after she hit Wakko and he fell, I bit her, right in the arm,” Yakko confessed. 

William thought about that for a moment. 

“Everything alright?” Lena asked, reentering with Wakko, who now had a bag of ice in his hand. 

“Yakko bit your mother,” William explained and Lena gasped. 

“Are you alright?” She asked him. Yakko nodded. 

“A-after she hit Wakko I wanted to check on him but she wouldn’t let me so I bit her,” He explained. Lena sighed a breath of relief. 

“That’s good dear... just... never do that again. The last thing either of us wants is for either of you two to get hurt, understood?” She asked. The boys nodded.

“Good,” she bent down and gave both of them a tight hug. “Now go play. Your father and I will have to have a long discussion with your grandmother later,” She said, looking back at William.  

“Yay! Let’s go!” Wakko pulled on his brother’s arm, dragging him out of the kitchen.

“See, why didn’t I ever think of doing that?” was the last thing he heard his mother mutter to herself before getting dragged out. 

Eventually, they made it back to the playroom, and Wakko immediately grabbed his toys and began playing with them, while Yakko bit his lip, unsure of what to do. It felt like forever since he played with dolls and toy soldiers, did he even know how to? Did Wakko even want him to play anymore? 

Wakko seemed hesitant too, as when he noticed his brother’s awkward standing, he stopped and looked at him. 

“Do you... wanna play with me?” He asked. Yakko nodded. 

“I do,” he said. Wakko smiled and handed him a prince doll. 

And so, for the rest of the afternoon, the two brothers played game after game, weaving intricate stories all of their own with brave princes, dragons, daring fights, and evil queens they slew together, always having each other’s back no matter what. 

And it was true, from that moment on, Yakko swore to always have his brother’s back, and more importantly, to never become what his grandmother wanted of him. She could rot for all he cared, he’d never let anyone hurt his little sib ever again,

That, he promised. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[ultimatetornshipper]

Steam

A lot of facts could be seen as only opinions. A lot of facts could be seen as flexible depending on one's experiences and perspectives. Facts could change and facts could be more than just the part of it that you're made aware of.

Blossom knew this.

But there was one simple fact that would remain the same for all of eternity.

Blossom Utonium hated Brick Jojo.

And he hated her.

Nothing, NOTHING would change this simple fact. They were natural enemies, opposites made to challenge and contradict one another.

It was simple.

Key word being was.

It's easier to hate and despise one another when your siblings weren't all friends and dragging the two of you along every chance they got.

It's easier to hate one another when your morals are directly clashing on a weekly basis.

Yeah, they still didn't exactly agree on a lot of moral questions but the boys aren't really evil anymore either.

But when the boys stole something the girls would fight them, take it, arrest them, they'd escape and everyone would let bygones be bygones.

By everyone she meant the blues and the greens.

She was pretty sure Brick was the only one who actively wanted to still do that stuff and Boomer and Butch just followed his lead. Or maybe Mojo still had something on them. She couldn't be sure, but the point was that they still committed crimes and that was illegal so it was their job to stop them.

And she wasn't stupid, she knew full well that she and Brick were the only ones who weren't pulling their punches and treating it all like a game.

So like she said. It was simple.

Until her sisters decided to make it complicated by befriending their rivals.

Blossom despised complicated social situations.

In any other context she could handle complicated. Fights? Sure. Science? She adored it. Books? What other kind is there?

But in group and friend dynamics? It annoyed her more than yarn catching on her nail, more than nails on a chalkboard, more than a dirty, uncleanable chalkbo-

It annoyed her a lot.

Why? Because it created situations like the one she was in right now.

Where her sisters and their counterparts were play fighting and joking around while she and Brick maimed eachother.

And it was always followed by a lecture by Bubbles on how she was too hard on him and Buttercup telling her to chill out while Brick and his stupid smug smirk would mock her and wouldn't leave her alone and how his red hair would be messy afterwads and half out of his ponytail and wisps falling into his face surrounding his gorge-

No.

She flew up to dodge a kick and landed behind him, pushing him forward so that he lost his balance.

She was fighting him right now. She couldn't think about his eyes or his pink lips forming a smug little grin and how she just wanted to kiss that stupid little smile off of his dumb face-

She froze in shock.

Kiss Brick?

Since when had that been an option?

She felt him get a hit in her stomach and her bottom collided with the ground.

She shook herself out of it. Later. She could analise... whatever this was... later.

She started getting up but suddenly he was straddling her waist and pinning her hands down above her head.

She stared at him in silence for a few seconds, because he was really close now and she could see the light freckles dancing across his nose up close and-

Bad Blossom! Now is not the time! You hate him, you despise him, he is the enemy! Stop checking out the guy you're fighting!

He smirked down at her victoriously, "At a loss for words, eh, Pinky?"

She felt him lower his guard and loosen his grip and quicker than lightning she flew out beneath him.

What in the name of Einstein was wrong with her?

She flew quickly and as high as the tallest building in Townsville, then she stopped and turned around and the handsome bastard was right there in front of her-

Wait a minute- handsome?!

Blossom needed to lie down.

Sadly, he seemed determined to keep this going.

They traded blows and each time he said something she didn't reply.

She was too busy freaking out about the fact that she had not only wanted to kiss him but also mentally referred to him as handsome and what the actual frickty frack?!

"What's wrong Bow Pink? You're awfully quiet today, afraid me and my brothers are finally gonna beat you and your sheep?" Brick taunted.

Blossom's brain with all its genius level intellect then decided that the only way to deal with whatever was happening to her heart was to stuff it in a jar and bury it deep, deep down and pretend it wasn't real.

She hated him.

He hated her.

That was a fact that couldn't and wouldn't ever change.

So she did what she did best.

She riled up Brick Jojo.

"I'm not the one here with sheep, Rock," she said mockingly.

He narrowed his eyes, throwing a punch that she quickly dodged, "Oh now she speaks?"

"You finally said something worth replying to. Though I must say, Rick, I'm disappointed, I can't believe you've been reduced to using puns," she replied, kicking his side and pulling away quick enough that he couldn't grab her leg.

"It's Brick and you know it, and don't pretend you don't pun, Pinky, we both know that's a lie," he said with a small growl in his voice. Dodging her once more.

"I still think your insult was just some good old projecting. Clearly if one of us have sheep it's you. My sisters fight of their own violation," she taunted, smirking. He grabbed her and they wrestled midair, each one gaining and then losing the upperhand.

Suddenly they pulled apart, flying in circles, eyeing one another. They were both panting, clearly out of breath.

Anyone could sense the electricity crackling through the air from a mile away. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that her siblings and their counterparts have stopped fighting and were now eyeing their leaders wearily.

She'd deal with it later.

She turned her full attention back to the man in front of her as the silence grew sharper.

His shirt had small tears in places, his hair was all over the place and he sported a few new injuries. She was certain she was in a similar state.

"They choose to fight," he broke the silence, glaring at her, "I don't force them to do anything they don't want to. I don't control them,"

The sharp, delicate silence fell apart and she felt her temper flare. The electricity turned to fire and she launched herself at him and felt her eyes heat up.

"The only reason for that is the fact that you're too busy being controlled," she screamed.

She could almost taste his fury at her words and their fight went to a whole new level.

Neither of them held back anything as they shot lazerbeams and went for one another unlike ever before.

She pushed him against a building, trapping him. And for a moment they locked gazes and time froze. The anger and frustration and denied attraction flared between them like a wild electric cable, their faces only inches apart.

"Are either of us really in control, Pinky? Or are we all just the result of someone else's choices?" he whispered harshly as they gazed into one another's eyes.

She felt her guard lower only for a split second before he grabbed her and pushed her against the building.

"But then again," he said quietly, and she felt his breath mingle with her own, "maybe if we want control we need to take it ourselves,"

He closed the distance between them and she only felt his fire approach for a second before she reacted with her ice.

So that's the was he wanted to play this?

She deepend the kiss and poured all her hatred and love and frustration and attraction into it.

She bundled up his shirt in her hands and felt his own get tangled in her hair. She faintly heard his hat fall to the ground not too far below.

Yet she couldn't care less as she kissed him the way she'd never allowed herself to kiss anyone before for fear of their life.

But she could do this with him because he could counter her perfectly.

He really was her opposite, huh?

Then she registered the fact that the air around them was slightly more humid than before.

She ignored it though, because this was the best kiss she'd had in... well, ever, and she was not going to pull away because as soon as she did that it would be over and it wouldn't happen again because now that they knew that it didn't-

Blossom felt him pull her closer and pushed all her previous thoughts away. She'd worry later, for now she just allowed herself to disappear into the kiss.

A few minutes later she became aware of a rather large amount of water hitting her.

They pulled away from one another in search of the source.

She quickly noticed that Brick was in a similar state as her and they turned to find their siblings staring at them.

Bubbles was holding the hosepipe that was likely the source of the water and Buttercup handed Butch 20 dollars.

"Really?" Her black haired sister asked, "You couldn't have waited just three more days for your murder make out session?"

"Our what?" she asked while Brick replied with a simple, "Fuck you,"

"Actually, Brick, you've got the wrong sister, I'm Buttercup, the one you wanna fuck is in your arms, her name is Blossom," Buttercup replied slowly, in a mocking tone of voice.

The red heads turned to look at each other and when they noticed their proximity, they jumped away from one another like the other had the plague.

Brick turned to them, "I was trying to kill her!"

And Blossom followed suit, "And I was just defending myself!"

"Nothing else!" They said at the same time.

Bubbles rolled her eyes and Boomer smirked. Butch waved them away, "Don't worry we have a completely different bet for when you two will acknowledge and accept your feelings for one another,"

"Yeah, and I can still win it!" Buttercup agreed.

"Feelings? What feelings?!" Blossom screamed, "Bubbles, tell Buttercup she's being ridiculous,"

Bubbles rised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Bloss, you're both redder than Brick's cap,"

"And you just spent 10 minutes making out so much that literal steam started surrounding you," Boomer snickered.

No matter how much Blossom or Brick denied it, no one in all of Townsville believed their denial after that day.

Buttercup won the second bet.

Approximately 3 months after what was dubbed their first Murder Makeout session the two finally confessed to one another.

Those 3 months are another story entirely.

But it was this that proved to Blossom that truly no fact was concrete, facts changed and facts expanded. Facts were flexible depending on your experience and perspectives.

And the fact was that while once upon a time, maybe Blossom did hate Brick and maybe Brick did hate Blossom, things changed.

But that mutual hatred melted away into something new, something beautiful, something flexible.

Something a little bit like steam.

Authors note:

Inspired by this post

I don't plan to continue this but if someone wants to continue or expand this idea or world like tag me I'd love to read it

Thanks to @maltrashdump for coming up with this idea, I love it, hope u enjoy my version of it

Also sorry for not putting a read more thing I'm on mobile atm

[margarethelstone-2]

if I loved you less (i might talk about it more)

requested by one and only @nerdypanda3126. thanks so much!

Read on AO3!

"Taichi... You still like me, don't you?"

The young man in question raised his eyes from the book he'd been trying to read for the past quarter, and fixed them on Chihaya, confused. It wasn't just the question that surprised him, even though its content sure would have been enough to puzzle a better prepared soul.

The fact that Chihaya had barely spoken at all for most of their time together today was the main reason why he felt startled by her words now.

She really had been quiet for most of the day, even though they were spending it at his place, determined, as she herself had claimed, not to get in the way of his studies. Taichi had tried to make her realise that it wasn't what he wanted at all, that the very reason he'd invited her over was to get a break from all the reading and just relax a little. He'd explained over and over again that he needed her to be a distraction; tried – unsuccessfully – to get it into her head that she was actually doing him a favour. He knew how much of a workaholic he could be and so he specifically planned the visit as a means to enforce the necessary break he might not have taken otherwise.

He had told her all of that. And yet, she'd remained quiet.

All the way until now, that is.

And just what on earth was she going on about?

"What's with that question? You know the answer to that," he replied casually, almost dismissively, before going back to the textbook in his hand. He really had no idea what had gotten into her all of the sudden, but then again, he didn't care to delve on the subject. He knew she'd tell him anyway.

"I was just wondering," she answered, a trace of hurt ringing in her voice; Taichi needed to hold back the smile that sprang on his lips at the sight of her pout. "Is it so bad if I do?"

Taichi hummed in thought.

"Is that why you've been so quiet all day?" he asked right after. "You've been just busy considering my possible affection for you?"

"Stop with the mockery. I'm thinking of it seriously."

"Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd come to any."

He had no choice but to close the book and put it away after a statement he'd just heard. Not that he minded. Throwing it on the floor rather carelessly, he sat up straight in his corner of the couch and, resting his chin on his palm, he fixed his gaze on the girl seated by his desk on the other side of the room.

She really was being impossible today.

Well, he supposed that wasn't anything new. He'd known Chihaya long and well enough to not be fazed by the swings in her mood or the inane schemes she so often came up with. He had learnt to expect the unexpected, every day, every hour of his otherwise boring life, because that was obviously the only way to keep up with her. The one thing he had to keep doing if he still wanted to be a part of her life.

Because that was how Ayase Chihaya was.

Chihaya. His best friend. His fiercest karuta rival. The girl he'd been in love with since fourth grade of primary school and the girl who'd rejected him straightforwardly at the very beginning of their third year in Mizusawa High. The girl whom he'd thought he could never win over, on whom he'd given up again and again, fooling himself he could move on and blight the love he'd had for her since he'd been a ten year old squirt.

He sighed and shook his head, remembering her question from a moment before.

She knew damn well he was still head over heels for her.

She was his girlfriend, for sanity's sake.

"I can't believe you actually have asked, you know," he picked up with the same fake weariness he'd shown before, if only to cover his growing amusement. Seeing her very real anxiety made him assume a more solemn expression, as he asked, "Seriously, what brought this on? Are you mad about something?"

"I'm not mad," she disagreed instantly, and with good emphasis.

"Are you unhappy then? Did I do something to make you feel like that?"

Again, she denied. Now she just looked sad. "That's not it."

Wrong. She was flustered.

"Then what is it?" Taichi asked, as gently and warmly as he could. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for all the hard training his patience had received. It was obvious that Chihaya needed that from him now. "It's not like I could get over you like this, you of all people should be aware of that. You're the most important person in my life. The best companion I could think of. You know I get lonely and grumpy when I can't see you, and you know I still get absurdly jealous, even though I hate being so. And so I can't help but think there's something else I'm not doing right."

Taichi stopped there, waiting for her to, if not answer his question, then to contradict him in one way or another, at least. After all, he really was at a loss.

He thought he'd been doing a fairly good job as a boyfriend, when all was said and done. He'd already shared Chihaya's most important interest and it wasn't difficult to at least understand the new ones she'd found. He made sure to be there for her when she needed him, and tried his best to give her space when she needed that more. True, he'd had some trouble coming for help on his part, but even that was a thing of a past rather than present – certainly not something that could shock Chihaya into thinking like this.

He would think that the all-day-long date he'd come up with and seen through in celebration of their first anniversary as a couple last week was a good show of how much he still cared.

He wasn't perfect. Neither was she. But never in his life would he have thought that he'd failed to get his feelings across.

"Chihaya," he prompted once more, his voice audibly quieter. "Please tell me what it is. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."

She looked up from the floor she'd been glaring at for a while and met his gaze, a shadow of unease still clouding her big brown eyes. She opened her mouth to answer; she closed it instantly and looked away again, abashed. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks, and it only grew darker as the time passed, though whether it was because of embarrassment or something more alarming, Taichi couldn't tell yet.

"Chihaya–"

"It's because you never say it."

He supposed his eyes opened wider than ever, what's with the utter astonishment he felt growing inside him immediately. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare, the craziness of the situation overwhelming enough to successfully prevent him from forming a sensible thought, and much less coming up with any kind of solution. One look at Chihaya was enough to sober him up, however.

She was distressed. She was insecure.

No matter how stupid he thought the reason to be, he could hardly allow the situation to last.

With a groan that was bound to startle her, he bent over and buried his face in his hands.

Only one thing he could do now.

"Come here," he said, his face still hidden behind one hand as he tore the other one away and beckoned her towards him. "No excuses. You'll talk later. Now just come here, please."

She did, albeit tentatively, as if afraid of the reaction he might show her. With his patience starting to run thin at last, Taichi didn't wait for her to cover the whole distance, instead reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist, only to pull her down on the couch right next to him.

And then he pulled her even closer, locking her in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm gonna do something to you," he mumbled into her hair, his voice a mixture of laughter and complaint. "You cruel, cruel, woman. Have you no heart? Here I am, mind reeling as I try to figure out what the hell I did wrong again and you say it's because I don't say I like you enough. As if you didn't already know you've got a firmer hold of my heart than I ever did. Tell me, am I really this bad at showing you that I care that you doubt it?"

It was Chihaya's turn to growl at him, though it surely – and fortunately – didn't stop her from burying her face even deeper into his chest and digging her fingers into the shirt on his back. Again, Taichi laughed at the display, but didn't loosen his grip one bit.

That silly, unbelievable, most beloved girl.

"This and that are different things," she muttered finally in response against his buttons, her stubborn indignation probably being the only reason why he could discern the words at all. "There are different kinds of love languages. We even talked about it, you know."

"Yes. And as far as I remember, we've already established that neither of us cared for this one. So your argument doesn't work."

Well, this was a lie, or at least, it wasn’t fully true. After all, he could never get tired of hearing her say those words, to him and him only. But he didn't need it that much, not when he already knew of so many other ways in which Chihaya expressed her love towards him. He'd always assumed it was the same for her, too.

Funnily enough, he still didn't think he was mistaken.

"I've had feelings for you for the past fourteen years, you dummy, I wouldn't change my mind just because you decided to return them," he threw in only half-jokingly, as if to make sure he got his point across before moving onto the next part. "So? Care to tell me what's the source of it all?"

He felt her tense against him for a split second, only to relax in the next moment with a long, weary sigh. He waited for her to make herself comfortable in his arms, shifting ever so slightly to make it easier for them both. And then he heard her speak.

"I met up with Kana-chan the other day," she admitted weakly. "Her and Desktomu. And I guess... They're always so sweet with one another, now more than ever. I suppose... It made me feel a little jealous. But most of all, it just made me think."

"And you decided that I'd fallen out of love with you, because I don't talk like Komano does?"

"I didn't decide anything, I told you already. I just wondered if maybe I was doing something wrong to deserve that treatment. Sorry for being so terribly scared of losing you again because of my own foolishness."

Words caught in his throat as Taichi tried to protest against this new development. That last addition Chihaya had made – and more importantly, the wounded, truly uncertain voice with which she'd spoken – would have been enough to melt his heart even if he had actually been angry with her. Right now, he had to hold back from grabbing her by the chin and kissing her senseless until all the idiotic ideas evaporated from her overworked mind.

The things she did to him without as much as trying.

You evil little imp.

"They're newly-weds. You can't use them for reference," he managed to stutter out at least, conveniently ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice and the emotion that hovered behind it. "Not to mention, those two are the opposite of us when it comes to talking about feelings openly. There's a reason they got together six years before we did. Just because something works for them doesn't mean it's the best course for us to take as well."

He smiled again and planted a kiss at the top of her hair, before adding, "I still can't believe you really doubted me, though."

She huffed and pulled away, although she still didn't move from her place on the couch. They were still close; close enough for Taichi to see the light reflecting in her eyes and the blush that hadn't left her cheeks, and to reach out and comb her tangled hair with his fingers. Another gesture so full of love, even though it was but a fraction of all that she made him feel.

"Well, since I never understood what had made you fall in love with me in the first place, it's only natural that I'd have this kind of doubts."

He chuckled and she smiled on her part, her obstinacy giving it to the desire to just be with him. It was another thing Taichi was able to read in her eyes – and, knowing the feeling well enough from his own experience, he had no trouble deciphering it.

Delayed, the first part of her sentence entered his brain.

What made me fall for you, I wonder?

He didn't know. It had been so long since he’d realised his feelings after all, and longer still since those feelings had been born. Even all those years earlier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to point out the reasons clearly, never mind finding the one spark that had started it – trying to do so now seemed downright impossible.

There were so many reasons, after all.

Maybe it was because she had never considered herself a possible love interest for anyone, first when she was too engrossed in karuta and later, when she thought she didn't deserve to be one. Maybe it was her hot-headedness and her drive, and how different she'd always been from him, and yet never failed to tell him how much she'd admired and envied those qualities of his that she lacked.

Maybe it was the fact that she'd always been with him, so close and so dear and yet so impossible to grasp.

Maybe it was because she'd loved him long before either of them dared believe that was the case.

Maybe...

"Maybe," he said out loud, though in fact not loud at all, his lips moving against her forehead as he leaned in to put a kiss there, too. "Maybe, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."

Edging away, Taichi saw tears gathering in her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, his hand cupping the side of her jaw fittingly.

And then he kissed her properly.

Just like he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen her that day.

[jean-kayak]

Chapter 17

Summary: A relaxing summer at home after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: angst lmao that’s really all i can say without spoiling anything 

Word Count: 2581

A/N: This is another FLASHBACK, and this will be the last one for the rest of the series, but after this, it goes pretty downhill lmfao

Tags: @iwascrybaby​, @styxtm​, @germinvasion​, @prxttyguardian​, @bigdaddyzawa​, @kbbvbz​, @tomsadversary​, @kqtsukisgf​, @pettyluxury​, @protectpancakes���

Chapter Summary: Words can hurt. Like really, really bad.

If you ever wanted a time to be good at holding back your tears, it would be right now. Final exams are coming up, so your stress levels are already through the roof, and to make it even worse, your teacher for interior design basically told you that your project was a failure and that you're going to have to start over. Today is Friday.

It's due Monday.

You're sitting on one of the benches in the main lobby of the high school, waiting for your ride, and you just can't stand being at school any longer. You're looking down, hoping no one who's still wondering through the hallways after almost everyone's left looks your way.

You freeze when you hear a familiar voice, and you feel a new fresh wave of tears roll down your face. You hear Eren laughing with his friends, and you keep your gaze down, refusing to look up as you wipe the tears from your eyes.

And you hate how your body sheds more tears at just the sound of his voice, and you blame it on the fact that you're already stressed. He "rejected" you a long time ago, so there's no reason for you to still be pining over someone you're never going to be with.

You keep sniffling due to the fact that you're looking down, and you're hoping he walks past you soon without looking your way at all. When you feel someone lightly nudge your head, you feel your heart drop. "Hey." His voice is soft, and that just seems to make you more upset. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, keeping your gaze on your shoes. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Bullshit." You sigh as you look away from your shoes. He definitely is the most stubborn person you've met, and you're best friends with Jean.

"It's true. There's nothing wrong," you repeat. "Now, I'm pretty sure you'd rather be with your friends than with me, so you can go." You wipe your face with your sleeve, sniffling again which doesn't help your case.

"Look at me and say that." You feel yourself clench your hands into fists at his stupid fucking persistence, looking up at him, and you refuse to believe that you see his face soften when you look at him. "What the hell happened?" he asks, and you shake your head again.

"Like I told you, it's nothing. You wouldn't care." This is what you tell yourself, you're pretty sure it's the truth anyway. There's no way he would actually care about how you're doing.

"Where'd you get that from?" he questions in disbelief, and you scoff as you look back down at your hands, flexing your fingers as you relax them.

You shrug. "I don't know. It's just something I assumed."

"Well, it's a stupid assumption," he tells you before he sighs. "Come on, let's go." You look up at him, raising your eyebrows. "Tell whoever's picking you up that I'm taking you home." You scoff again as you shake your head.

"Eren, I already told you, I'm fine. I don't need you treating me like a baby," you respond, your words coming out more aggressive than you wanted.

"Come on, Y/N, you know I don't look at you that way. Now, let's just go." You roll your eyes as you look in the opposite direction of him, cursing yourself when you feel more tears brimming your eyes.

"I'm pretty sure you'd rather hang out with your friends than me. They're more important than I am." You didn't realize how self-deprecating you got in your head when you tried to get over your stupid crush.

"Who told you that?" He sounds angry now, and you can't hold the tears in anymore, more falling down your face as you shake your head.

"No one." I did. You try to hold back the sob rising in your chest, but it slips out, and you suddenly feel a hand on your wrist pulling you up from the bench before an arm is around your shoulders, leading you out of the school.

You find yourself sitting at that same booth in the ice cream parlor, this time barely putting a dent in your ice cream. "You can start on the work now. Just get a little bit done while you sit here," Eren says, and you shake your head, giving him a small shrug.

"No, I'll probably just wait till I get home. I'm sure you've got somewhere else to be, don't wanna hold you up."

You don't look up when he leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "Who's telling you all this shit?" You can't help but feel pathetic. You can't say yourself because then you'll feel even more stupid.

"No one, it doesn't matter." You put a spoon of ice cream in your mouth to stop you from saying anything else. You glance at him, and you know that he can tell that you're not telling the truth or that there's something else underlining your words, and you hate how much of an open book you are.

"Seriously, Y/N, do the work. I have nothing else to do." He leans back in the booth, eating some of his ice cream to emphasize his point, and you sigh heavily before you slide your ice cream to the slide and start pulling out the stuff you need to start on the toughest thing you currently have to deal with.

You're actually pretty immersed in your work, your notebooks and binder spread out all over the table, pens and colored pencils littering the surface, and you just happen to look around to see a pencil in Eren's hand. He seems pretty focused, and you chew on your lip nervously before you set your pencil down, flexing your fingers that are starting to hurt.

"What are you doing?" you ask cautiously, and he looks up at you through his lashes before he lifts his head up.

"Drawing," he responds easily, and you nod, remembering how Jean said that he had started to take it up.

"Drawing what?" you push softly, and he responds with an easy shrug.

"Stuff, I guess," he responds, and you raise your eyebrows as you give him an easy smile.

"Can I see?" He easily slides the book over to you, and you pick it up, setting it on top of your stuff. Your eyes widen when they land on the different sketches spanning across the two pages you're looking at. "You're amazing," is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you're really at a loss for words.

You didn't know what you were expecting, but they're way better than what you thought. "I would hang these up in my room," you say, and you keep your attention on the drawings as you hear him chuckle softly.

"I don't think they're that good," he contradicts, and you scoff as you look up at him.

"Are you kidding me? You're seriously amazing," you emphasize before passing the book back to him. "What?" you ask when you notice that he's staring at you.

He hesitates for a second, not saying anything as he looks down at the table before looking back at you. "Can I draw you?"

You blink in surprise before you let out a depreciating chuckle. "You wanna draw an ugly girl with dried tear tracks on her face?"

"I want to draw a girl who is not ugly, and who is going to finish her project and get the best grade in the class," he counters quickly, and you chew on your lip softly as you try to fight the heat rising to your face.

"If you want to," you respond softly. "What do you want me to do?" you ask, fiddling with the pencil in your hand nervously.

"Just keep doing what you're doing." You respond with a small nod before turning back to your work, feeling a little bit weird now that Eren's watching you, but you're soon back to being absorbed into your work, nearly forgetting that he was drawing you in the first place.

Eren decides to leave once you have most of your project drafted, almost ready to work on the final result. "Can I see that drawing?" you ask as you pack your backpack up.

"It's really bad," he says, and you roll your eyes just as you zip up your bag.

"I know that's not true," you object, and he chuckles softly before sliding out of the booth.

"I'll show you one day. Come on, let's get you home," he says, nodding his head towards the door, and you walk out of the ice cream parlor feeling a lot lighter than when you came in.

^^^

The end of your freshman year of high school passed in a blur even though you swore you had those weeks where it felt like it took forever for them to end. You barely made it through your exams unscathed, your brain feeling like it had been fried ten times over, but now you had the summer to look forward to.

Eren had a graduation party, and the only reason why you were there was that Jean got to invite some of his friends because his mom didn't want him to feel left out. You two were the only ones there though, most of them not wanting to be surrounded by a bunch of former seniors or either having things to do.

You went to obviously hang out with Jean, but once more people started showing up, that's when you realized that this probably wasn't the best idea. You and Jean were able to take refuge in his room for the time being, and you couldn't go to your house because Jean's mom was making him stay for at least a couple of hours.

Jean wasn't happy about it, so you listened to him complain for at least an hour about that before he switched the subject onto you. He started asking you about your relationship with Eren, and he wasn't happy when you told him that sometimes he would take you to get ice cream. "What's so wrong with it?" you ask, and he just shrugs.

"I just don't like it," he replies, making your frown deeper. "Do you like him?" The sudden question makes you jump slightly, and you try to mask the nervousness in your chuckle.

"What do you mean? Like if I--"

"Y/N," he cuts you off, his voice telling you there's no point in beating around the bush, and you sigh heavily as you pick at the side of your cup.

"No? I don't..." you trail off, not really knowing how to answer. "It doesn't matter," you conclude.

Eren causes your feelings to be all over the place. One moment, you're fine, it's like you're over him, and then he'll do something like bringing you to the ice cream parlor to make you feel better, and then those feelings explode all over again.

"I'm going to get something to drink," you say, quickly standing up and walking out of his room. You maneuver through the mass of people, the house seeming to be stuffy from how many people are inside, probably due to the heat outside.

You slide past a bunch of people before you decide that you need a breather. You make your way to the back door, sliding it open just enough for you to fit through before closing it behind you. You release a sigh that slumps your shoulders when it feels cooler outside than it does inside. You walk away from the view of the door, leaning against the house so that no one can see you.

You're about to sit down when you hear voices coming from the side of the house. You make your footsteps light as you tiptoe across the deck, and you keep your back against the wall as you look around the corner, feeling an uneasy feeling settle over you when you see Eren talking with his friends.

Eren and Will are sitting next to each other in cheap lawn chairs while Porco leans against the wall, cigarette lit in his mouth. The conversation is nothing to really pay attention to, but once you rest your head against the wall, out of their sight is what catches your ears. "You ever get that whole crush thing sorted out with Y/N?" Will asks the question, and you can feel your heart starting to pound.

"Yeah, she said it wasn't true," you hear Eren respond and a scoff follows it.

"Yeah, right. Don't tell me you believed that." It's Porco that speaks this time, and you bite your lip as your hands dig into the brick against your back. "It was so obvious, it's almost sad."

"Like I said, she denied it," Eren repeats, and you want to leave, but your feet are glued to the ground.

"And then you were hanging out with her," Porco continues. "Like you had a crush on her, too," he jokes.

"Fuck off, man," Eren says. "I was only nice to her because she's Jean's best friend. Trust me, that's the only reason why I put up with her."

You think you physically feel your heart break. The tears are brimming in your eyes, and they spill as you turn in the opposite direction towards your house, your walking soon turning into running, not stopping when your parents ask you what's wrong, and you close your door, locking it before pulling the covers over yourself and crying so hard, you fall asleep.

Coming up with a lie to tell your parents wasn't easy, you roping in Jean to help you, and you both just said that you had gotten into a meaningless fight, but you're fine now. Jean was livid when you told him what happened, but you told him not to do anything. For one, Eren was way bigger than him, and two, Eren was about to leave so there was no point.

Jean only came to your house to hang out, and you never stepped foot back into Jean's house until Eren had left for college. Sometimes Eren would text you, but you never looked at it. You would swipe the notification away, and slowly the texts stopped coming in.

You obviously knew that it could never work between the two of you, but why did he have to say that about you? Was that true? You didn't want to believe it, but he seemed so serious that it makes you cry all over again. It just makes all of those moments you had together mean absolutely nothing, and it makes you want to punch the memories out of your head.

You didn't go see him when he left, you telling your parents that you weren't feeling that well, and Jean came over to tell you that he was gone. It took you a lot longer to get over him than you wanted, but you made sure to distract yourself for the whole summer, and Jean helped you.

You didn't tell anyone else what happened and neither did Jean, and even though it caused a deep wound, you were slowly but surely starting to heal, and Eren deciding that he wasn't going to come back often made it easier for you.

You didn't have to see him ever again, and you used that to aid in your healing process.

|Chapter 16|Masterlist|Chapter 18|

[agentsoftie]

stitches and ditches

summary: y/n and spencer get in a fight. due to the fight y/n goes to the hospital where she gets taken. spencer has to find her before it’s to late

a/n: plot holes. plot holes everywhere. so i’m sorry for that, super sorry. also like i don’t really know how to write fight scene and stuff ig so sorry if it sucks. and i skipped like 3 classes for this, so don’t let it flop

warnings: fight, angry spencer, torture, a case, violent spencer (idrk what to call it) and whole lotta angst. i happy ending though! kinda, idrk

word count & pairing: spencer x (fem) reader & 4.1k

remember to like and reblog!!

It all started the day he came home from work. This was one of the longest trips he’d been on so you decided to make him his favorite. Pumpkin Pie. And god knows how hard it is to make pie, but you did it anyways, for him. It wasn't too late when he got home but It wasn't too early either. More like the time right after dinner and just before dessert. You had just got the pie out of the oven when you heard the door open and someone walk in.

“Spencer! Finally you’re home! How are you!” You said while he put his bag away. He didn't turn to look at you yet which was kinda weird since the first thing he does when he gets home is kiss you right on the lips. “Fine,” He mumbled while sitting down at the table still not looking at you. “Spencer, come on what’s wrong?” You asked while grabbing his hands, but he immediately retracted. Which made sense because of who he was, but you’re not gonna admit that it didn't hurt. “Nothing Y/N.”

You knew that something was wrong, and it didn't take a profiler to see that. Everything about him was just off. “Come on, it's me. You can tell me anything.”

“Y/N.” Spencer said in a deep tone. You’d never heard him like this or seen in that sense. He was always happy to see you, to be with you. And were with his too. “Spencer no, come on. I can see that you’re clearly not fine. So come on, open up.”

“Y/N I said I’m fine!” You were appalled. He had never raised his voice at you, but it was bound to happen one day, you just. You just were shocked. “Spencer,” You said in a low voice completely contradicting his loud yell. “What!”

“Spencer calm down!” You say yelling at him. Although you realized that yelling at someone to calm down probably wasn't the best way to do it.

“No Y/N, you need to just stop and shut up!” Shut up. That’s the first time he’s ever told you to shut up. Infact, you think it's the first time he’s ever told anyone to shut up.

“Spencer just talk to me! It’s not that fucking hard!”

“No Y/N it is. It's tremendously hard and you just wouldn't understand.”

“Just tell me. And I'll see if I understand. But don't just gatekeep your emotions and feelings.”

“Y/N I said no! Why cant you listen to simple fucking directions! It’s not that fucking hard!” Each and every time he yelled at you, it's like your heart physically broke. And you could feel it breaking. But how do you tell him to stop? All you wanted was to know how he feels. Was that really so hard?

“Spencer why the hell are you acting like this! I understand that your job is hard but that doesn't mean that you can pour all your anger out on me! And if you are gonna do that, you can at least do the kind thing and share how you feel! And what's wrong! I mean, is that really so much to ask!”

“Oh really, that's how you wanna play this! You think this is just a little game don’t you!”

“Game Spencer! You think I play this as a game! Well this game is my life!” You were drop dead angered at this point. “What in the world gives you the right to act like this! Please, explain!” All he does is scoff at you. “I'm not joking Spencer! Why the hell are you acting like this! You've changed!”

“Oh I’ve changed! Y/N you've changed! You're always trying to kiss up my ass! I mean jesus! All you want is money! Like god!”

“Oh I want money! Spencer! I don't need your pathetic money! It may not have dawned on you since you couldn't bother to care, but I make a good amount of money. Yeah, you’re not the only one who paid for this place. So stop acting like you are.”

“Oh wow! Haha, you sick son of a,” He stopped immediately after realizing what exactly he was saying.

“Say it Spencer! Finish the goddamn sentence!”

“Y/N, you know I wont.” He says in a shift of tone. Still equally as affecting though.

“Why? Huh? You've already said so much, just wrap it up with a nice little red bow on top!”

“Y/N, stop,” He said, his tone getting more and more demeaning by the second.

“Do it Spencer! Do it!”

“Goddamn it Y/N I said stop!!” He yelled before throwing a glass at the wall behind you. You both immediately shut up, as trying to process what just had happened. Did he actually just try to hurt you? No, Spencer would never do that. Would he? You touched the back of your head and felt blood on your ear. You looked down at the blood and Spencer walked towards you but all you did was pull back from his touch.

“Don’t,” You mutter in fright. Putting your hands up against his chest, but not touching. His eyes looked at you as if they were trying to say something but just couldn't. You grabbed your purse, keys, phone, a coat, and slipped into some shoes. “Y/N, where are you going?”

“To the clinic or hospital or whichevers open right now. To get this checked out and stitched up.”

“Y/N, come on just stay here. I can stitch it up. I can do everything. Just dont leave. Im sorry, okay. I- I don't know why I did that. I promise I didn't mean too.” He begs and pleads but you just can't say with him tonight. No, not tonight. Tonight was too bad, tonight was a dent that was not going to be fixed.

“I just can't, Spencer. Okay, not tonight. There’s some pasta in the fridge, and I love you… I guess.” And with that you got in your car and left leaving Spencer to just sit in his own tears. He just sat at the table thinking of everything he did wrong. Everything that went wrong. And the worst part is that absolutely nothing wrong or bad happened at work today. He was just exhausted, that's all. And instead of telling his girlfriend, he started a fight. And he knew that you were in the right, for everything.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Dr. Michael Gray. And it looks like something happened to your ear.” He says while standing at the door.

“Oh hi! Haha. And um… I thought that nurses were supposed to, you know, stitch up stitches.”

“Oh yeah, well they are. But you’re just so gorgeous I pass up the offer.”

“Oh, haha,” You say, not knowing how to feel. Although there was one thing you knew, and that was that this was uncomfortable as hell. “Well, I mean I do have a boyfriend.” You said just so he wouldn't try to make any moves.

“Oh well hey! Do you have any siblings or friends? I'm fine with absolutely anyone and everyone.” He says while disinfecting your ear and pulling the glass out.

“You’re Pan?” You ask to distract yourself from the pain.

“Yeah. You’re not gonna request another doctor now right?” He asks while carefully taking out the glass and putting it on a white napkin in front of you. That was a big piece.

“No, of course not!” You say in offence. “How could you ever think that.”

“It happens a lot with people. Especially the pretty ones. They automatically get turned off when I tell them I like everyone. I don't care about your gender, just your personality and how you treat me.”

“Oh well I would never. And it sucks that-that happens.”

“Yeah. Okay, so here comes the fun part. Hey, how did you even get these stitches? Or, why do you need them? Like how did you get to this point?” He says while slowly stitching up your ear.

“Ha, I get it. You’re just fine. And all of this is due to my boyfriend.” You say in pain.

“Wait,” He stops doing what he’s doing and just stands there. “Your boyfriend did this?”

“Yes. And before you say anything else, I am not in an abusive relationship. Okay, he just had a bad day and I guess I made it even worse. And trust me, he didn't mean to do it.” You say as he finishes stitching up your ear.

“Do you have a place to stay tonight?” He asks while pouring out a liquid into a small cup.

“No.”

“Then, come stay with me. At my place. And here drink this, it’ll help with the pain. A lot.”

He says while giving you a small cup filled with what looked like to be a crushed up powder poorly mixed in with water. Or whatever that the liquid was.

“Oh no. We just met.” You spoke before drinking it.

“You got anywhere better to stay? Plus my shift ends in 5 so it would be the most practical decision.”

You knew that it was wrong. After everything that Spencer had told you. But for some reason you still went. Even though you knew you should have gone back home to Spencer. And god knows what he was doing right now. But you couldn't just let your pride fall and go home. That would be pathetic. “You know what, okay! I mean what the hell! You seem nice and I’m not in the mood to face him again. Or at least for now.”

“Sweet!”

“Just one question… are you gonna kill me?” It was a stupid question to ask, you know. But after everything that Spencer and his family have been through. And with what happened to haley, you just couldn't help but to ask.

“No Y/N, I’m not gonna kill you. Now come on, let me get logged out and let's leave this place. Oh and Y/N, you can call me Michael.” He says while taking off his lab coat.

“Okay Michael.”

He brought you into his car and the drive to his place felt like hours. Although you really couldn't remember most of it since you passed out a quarter way through. The last thing you do remember is him putting his hand on your thigh and looking over at you with a smirk.

It had been 3 days. 3 days since you left to get your ear stitched up. 3 days since Spencer had last seen you. Since you had seen him. Or any of your friends. 3 days since you left your life. In those 3 days, Spencer completely lost himself. All of the books were on the floor. The bed was an absolute mess. And the kitchen was left just as it was the night it happened. He, himself, was a mess. His hair had not been brushed. He was still wearing the same clothes. And he’d been surviving on coffee and granola bars.

“Guys, we got a new case, come on.” Penelope chimes as they all do paper work. Spencer can’t help but look at his phone every 2 minutes just waiting for a text or call or any sign of life and/or love.

“What’s wrong pretty boy?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, you've been acting tense lately.” JJ adds.

“Nothing, It’s just Y/N,” He gruffs.

“Do I smell relationship problems,” Derek says jokingly.

“Derek!” JJ scoffs. “What's wrong Spence?”

“Nothing I just… Look, something happened, and now she’s not answering any of my text and calls, and I'm starting to get worried. That's really all there is.”

“Well what happened exactly? To you know, make her leave I guess.” JJ asks.

“Um, we had an argument. A pretty bad one. I came home after the case. The Checkersfeild one. And um, I was just tired. And instead of telling her that, I got super mad and said some things that I regret. And also did a thing I regret. A lot. And I would explain everything to her if she answered whenever I called or texted but she didn't.”

“How bad was the argument?” She asks again.

“Pretty bad. It was our first, but it was really bad. Just words coming and pouring out.”

“Spencer, how long have you and Y/N been dating?” Derek asks in shock at the fact that he just said ‘first argument’.

“2 and half years now.”

“And you two have never fought? What's this secret that you're keeping from me.”

“Well you know, we had our mutual disagreements. And sometimes we argued a little but it was small and it lasted for like an hour. And right after we would apologize and everything would be okay. It would all be fine.” Spencer said, his voice got longer and slower as the words went on.

“Wow, um… Spencer. You really love her, don't you.” Derek asked.

“Yeah. I really do, don't I.” Spencer says while walking into the briefing room.

As everyone sat down Derek couldn’t help but to keep looking at him. He knew that Spencer was hiding something, he just didn't know what. Or how to figure it out.

“Okay everyone this is Isabella Stines. The latest victim of our new unsub. Police are calling him The Ditcher. Since, as you can see, they leave the body in ditches after what looks like hours and hours of tourture. 5 other people were found too. First was Mindy Kindle, then Jake Johnson. Next, Rosé Hinnings, then we have Jennifer Gordon. And last, and hopefully least, Kross Noing. The ‘K’ is silent.” Penelope says while everyone looks down at the picture of the crime scenes and blood smeared across the screen.

“Do they have anything in common?” Spencer asks just before his phone starts ringing. He immediately picks it up even though the rule that Hotch made up states that you can't answer phones when you’re in the briefing room getting briefed for a new case. “Y/N.” Spencer asks, not knowing who this was since he didn't have enough time to look at the caller ID. “No, this is Sharron Richard, her boss. She hasn't shown up to work for these past days and we’re getting worried. She has a case coming up and this is a big one for her. We’ve been trying to contact her, but she’s not answering. So we called you since she left you as her backup or whatever you call it. So, have you seen or heard from her?” Sharron asks over the phone.

“Um no I- I haven't.” Spencer mutters through the phone so no one except Sharron could hear it. Although that failed miserably.

“Oh, okay. Well if you hear from her, or see her anytime soon. Please tell her to contact us.” And with that the phone was hung up.

“Pretty boy what was that?” Derek asks.

“Uh, nothing. Just a call from Y/N’s work. Apparently she’s been missing. Although you already knew that so…” Spencer said while looking down at his phone more time, then putting it away. Everyone just gave him this weird look of dissatisfaction.

“Okay anyway, yes there are some similarities. And luckily, all of these are taking place here so you guys won't be flying out anywhere! Or wait, isn't that a bad thing?” Penelope exclaims.

“Garcia,” Hotch says in his natural stearn and damning voice.

“Sorry boss. Anyways, The ME found traces of propofol and thiopental in each of their systems. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically a drug that doctors use to get patients into a coma before surgeries and/or if it's needed medically.”

“So only doctors would have access to it?” Emily asks.

“Over here in Virginia, yes. There are no stores that sell it here due to too many people ODing.” Spencer answers. “Garcia, did the ME find any signs of sexual assault?”

“No they did not. Looks like it was just tourture.”

“Hey Garcia, did they have anything else in common?” Emily asks.

“Yeah check this out. Each of the victims have a medical visit to “The Charleston Hospital” the night before dying. Or getting captured at least. And, it looks like each of them came in after what looked like an action of abuse. It was hard to spot but luckily the bill got it.”

“Okay, thank you Garcia. JJ, Prentiss, come with me. We’re going to the crime scene. Rossi, you go to the ME. Morgan and Reid stay here and try to find some things and connections. And Garcia, you just do what you do best.” Hotch says while getting up.

Everyone was gone from the briefing room except for Garcia who was taking down some files, and Spencer, who was looking at the file. But one part in particular. Could it have happened. No, it couldnr have. Could it?

“Hey Garcia?” He asked.

“Yes sugar,”

“Can I get something?”

“Why of course, what is it that you need?”

“Um, I need records and security tapes.”

“Come with me my sweet child.” She says while walking out the door and into her office, or as she likes to call it, batcave.

“Okay here are the records for-” She got cut off by a frantic Spencer.

“No, not for them, but for Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Your girlfriend?” She asks.

“Yes, my girlfriend.”

“Um, okay. So yeah. It looks like she went to Charleston um about 3 nights ago for some stitches.”

“And the security tapes. From that night. Can you see where she went? Or if she got in her car?”

“You doubt me. Don't doubt me. Okay so here. It looks like she got into this car. But, it looks like there is someone with her. Im sorry Spencer.”

“Don't be. Just, what’s the licence plate numbers?”

“Um, 56HI90ZC3. Spencer, if you want, we can talk about it.” She says in a soft tone. Thinking that his girlfriend would be cheating on one of her friends.

“No not now. I just need you to track that car, can you do that?”

“Done. Okay so it looks like the last time the car was spotted was here, Cherry Ann Avenue. It looks like they took a turn in this field, and that's all.”

“Great, I need you to contact Hotch and Rossi, and tell them that we got the guy.”

“On it. But, hey do you wanna talk about it?”

“Garcia, we don't have any time. Someone I love is in danger and I don't wanna waste a single second.”

You woke up to the smell of blood, the sound of crickets, and a gut wrenching pain, everywhere across your body.. Crickets everywhere. You looked down to see many cuts. Cuts all over your body, everywhere. And in one place, you swear you saw a knife. What had happened? How long was I out? You tried to remember everything but all you could was getting in a fight with Spencer and then getting in a car with a doctor. Or a nurse, or whoever they were.

“Ah, so you're up.” Michael said as he walked up from the shadows behind him.

“Who are you and what do you want?” You say trying your best to back away from him but something ties you down.

“You forgot who I am already. I must have added a little more meds in there for you. Huh, well that's alright. I’m Michael. More professionally, Dr. Michael Gray.” You just sat there trying to hear him over the intense pain you were in. Almost as if you'd been stabbed 100 times, maybe you had, who knows. “You see, your boyfriend was being the abusive piece of shit he is and so now I'm helping you. Helping you get better.”

“You sick bastard. You're not helping me, you're causing me pain.” You say as he gets closer and closer to your face.

“Shut up!!” He says as he slaps you. “I know what I’m doing!! Do you know how many people I’ve put out of misery!!” He yells in your face. You can feel the spit reaching your face as he does this.

“You’ve hurt those people. You've put them through pain. So much pain. Instead, you could have helped them. But this, this is not help, no this is torture, abuse, assult.”

“I SAID SHUT UP!!” He yelled while throwing the metal tray on the table across the room. “YOU KNOW WHAT, MAYBE WHAT YOU'RE PATHETIC LITTLE BOYFRIEND DID TO YOU WAS GOOD. YOU DESERVED IT!! Don't deserve me, or my help!”

You were shocked. You were scared. You were terrified. But you didn't want to admit it. And the sad part is, all he truly wanted to do is help you. But just at that moment you heard sirens. Sirens everywhere, and they got louder and louder until you saw the colors. Flashing up against the brown wooden wall and the shag carpeting on the floor.

Suddenly you heard a loud bang, the door had come down. “Michael Gray!” You heard someone yell. “Michael, we know what you've done, and we know that you’re here!”

“No, this can't be happening. No no no no no. NO!” He yelled in panic. The most stupid thing to do when you’re trying to hide.

Suddenly 3 people came rushing to the room. One of them happened to be your boyfriend. Who ran over to you immediately without any hesitation.

“Hey Y/N, it's me, Spencer. You're gonna be okay.” He said while holding you. All you did was smile and nod. You wanted to tell him that you loved him, but you just couldn't. You were so sore and tired. And all you wanted to do was go to sleep. Even though you knew that you shouldn't have since, well, you know. You would probably die. But you just couldn't help it.

You woke to a bright light. Or multiple in this case. Why was everything so white. White hurts people. You felt a tug to your hand as you saw who was holding it, Spencer. He stayed. And for god knows how long. He was asleep, and you didn't want to wake him. Poor boy looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep for the past week or so. You checked the clock as the time read 10:37pm. Perfect, just the most perfect time to wake up. You tried to grab your phone, but you had to stretch to get it, and you were not doing that.

Spencer, although woke up from your failed attempt at grabbing your phone. “Y/N, you're awake.” He said dreamily with his eyes half shut.

“Hi Spencer.”

Once he truly realized what was going on, he jumped up from his seat and gripped your hand tighter than before. “Y/N baby, how are you? Are you okay?”

“Well, truthfully. No, I am not okay. I mean, I just got tortured for god know how long, and I think I’ve been asleep. But again, I don't know how long. And oh god, I had my case that I’ve been working on for the past 6 months that was supposed to happen and I missed it!” You say as if the world was ending. He just looks at you. No emotion, just stares.

“Y/N it’s okay. I sorted that out, don't worry. You’re just okay. Why did you go with them anyway?”

You don't know how to respond. Do you tell him everything, or tell him nothing at all. Do you leave out some bits? No, he deserves to hear the whole truth. “Spencer, after what happened that night, I was terrified of what was gonna happen if I came home. And my friends were out of town. So I really had no choice.”

“Y/N,” His voice cracked. “I am so sorry for what I did to you. I truly didn't mean to do that, it just happened. And I don't know why.”

“I know.”

“You probably hate me, and I get that. I would hate me too if I were you. I mean, look at what I put you through. I’m so sorry. And I understand if you wanna breakup and stuff. But, I just wanna say that I love you. I truly do.”

“Spencer,” You say while looking down at your hands, then back up. “I don't hate you. I could never hate you. Not after everything you’ve done for me. I love you, I do.”

He just smiled and kissed you on your forehead. “Y/N, you wanna about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Everything that happened today.”

“Sure, but how about we talk about everything that happened the other day. I mean, I made you pie Spencer, Pie!” He just sat there while you were laughing looking into your eyes. “I love you.” He said. You just smiled and held his hand, “I love you too.”

tagging: @criminalmindsmoodrn, @marshmallowtraver, @ghostly-angelic, and @himarisolace

[liron-ao3]

Happy reading

Human AU Malec & Destiel Oneshot

Dean lets his eyes run over the spines of the library books in front of him. He knows that he has likely read all the historical novels in their small town library at this point, but it doesn't harm to check for new arrivals.

He spots a cover he hasn't seen before, well placed on a small tablet stand—a new accession. Awesome. He reaches out to get it, but before he can grab it, a large hand with black nail polish beats him to it, and Dean curses inwardly.

The other man follows the hand invading his view and scrutinises Dean with black-rimmed eyes. "Sorry. Were you interested in this one?"

Dean needs a moment to take the man fully in. He is a work of art from the black cowboy boots right up to the blue-tinted tips of his spiked up hair. Dean has to clear his throat. He's never seen anyone like him in their little town. He's probably from the new settlement up the hill. Many New Yorkers moved here, much to the villagers' dismay.

Mr Perfect-Style raises a questioning eyebrow, and Dean realises that he hasn't answered for too long. "Um, yeah. It's from my favourite author, and I haven't read it yet."

The other man smiles. "Same."

Dean likes the other man's voice. And his confident posture. And his taste in books. Dammit! He hasn't looked at a man for years now. Hook-ups with women are safer. But he's settled now, and Dean is pretty confident that the man gives off queer vibes with all the makeup and shiny clothes.

Dean feels courageous today and decides to check his hunch. He leans against the bookshelf and puts on his most winsome smile. "What do I have to do for you to give me way with this book? I'm a fast reader."

Two sentences without stammering. This must be Dean's new record regarding gay flirting. He's nearly proud of himself.

The other man raises the single eyebrow even higher, eyes sparkling with mirth. He gives Dean a once-over, and his lips pull into a wide grin. "I'm not sure if I should hit that," he says, and Dean freaking blushes, the smirk gliding off his face instantly.

Suffering a rebuff is bad enough. But he never hit a wall so quickly before he could even reveal all his charm. Not with women though, so...

He straightens himself and nods. "Gonna make a reservation then," he says and turns around, leaving the library without new reading fodder.

***

"Here, Mr Winchester. Happy reading," the librarian says.

Dean smiles at her as he takes the book after she scanned it together with his library card. "I'm lucky that it was returned so quickly. Two days. That's impressive."

"Maybe the other reader didn't enjoy it," she supplies with a shrug. Dean doubts that very much. He nods nonetheless. He's still a little miffed. Usually, he's so smooth when it comes to flirting with the ladies, but men still give him a headache. All those contradicting signals.

He walks out to the bus stop, and when he finds a seat in the last row, he opens the book, unable to wait a minute longer now that he has it in his hands. At the beginning of the first chapter, he finds a scrap of paper. No. It's handmade paper adorned with beautiful handwriting. Dean furrows his brow. And reads the short note.

Sorry if I was too harsh on you on Tuesday. I would like to atone. Do you have plans for the spring fair?

Dean stares at the delicate letters and numbers, then he lets out a snort and pushes the paper into the pocket of his jacket.

***

"A date would do you good," Alec says and pushes a bottle of ice-cold beer into Dean's hand. "Is he good-looking?"

Dean snorts. "Not my usual type."

"Your usual type is women. You haven't been with a single man since you came out."

Dean shrugs. "Men are intimidating as fuck." Alec snorts at that. "You have no right to make fun of me. How many men exactly did you date in the last two years?"

"That's different. I don't need a man," Alec says and slumps on the other side of the sofa.

"And I do?"

Alec scans him from head to toe. "Most definitely." Dean huffs a laugh and doesn't dignify him with an answer. "What do you have to lose? We wanted to go to the fair anyway. Ask him if he has a nice, good-looking buddy who's interested in men, and we're going on a double date."

Dean laughs out loud. "Just a second ago, you said you don't need a man."

"I don't need a partner. But a nice flirt? Why not?" Alec shrugs.

Dean shakes his head. "I won't go out with that guy just to get you laid."

Alec rolls his eyes. "Come on, man. Maybe he knows where the hot, secretly gay people are hiding in this town."

"They are assembled in this room, Alec." Dean takes a swig of his beer and shakes his head. "Wouldn't it be easier to simply be fuck buddies?"

Alec screws up his face in disgust. "You're like my brother. Don't even—urgh."

Dean giggles and plops into the sofa cushions. "Okay. I'll text him."

***

"You owe me. Big time," Castiel grumbles. "I don't care that we've been friends since kindergarten. If my date is a stupid meathead, I'm killing you."

Magnus chuckles. "Now and then, a meathead is exactly what one needs, Castiel. It's not always about finding your one true love. You know that I'm a romantic by heart, but sometimes you just need a good, mmpf," he says as Castiel covers his mouth with his hand.

He pierces Magnus with his eyes. "I know you are a bit of a lothario, but not everyone needs that to be happy." He pulls his hand away and looks at it in disgust before he cleans the lipgloss away with a handkerchief that he pulls out of his trenchcoat.

"Sorry, darling. I should've known better than to say that. But I'm sure he'll be nice." He looks at his watch. "They must be here any second. Oh, there." Magnus waves wildly at two approaching men and shouts Dean's name.

"Which one is supposed to be mine?" Castiel grunts.

"The one with the neck tattoo," Magnus smirks.

"Of course it's him," Castiel says and rolls his eyes.

***

"So, you're afraid of heights," Castiel asks Dean, who eyes Magnus and Alec in the line for the Ferris wheel.

"Yeah. Since childhood. And you?"

"I kind of fell from the sky once. Don't need a repetition of this experience."

Dean chuckles. "I can imagine. So, you and Magnus, you never…?"

Castiel looks at him in disgust. "Oh no. He's way too sexual for my taste." His eyes widen when he realises what he just said. "I mean, I love him, and he is a great guy. Smart, funny. Stylish, I guess." He squirms under Dean's piercing gaze.

"I wouldn't have expected someone like you when he promised his best-looking friend," Dean says, grinning from ear to ear.

Castiel snorts. "That's because Ragnor is on the other side of the pond, and all his other male friends are straight or heteroromantic."

"What?"

"They are asexual but like women romantically."

Dean raises his eyebrows but doesn't comment on it. Who wants to look like a complete idiot in front of a handsome guy like Castiel? Not that Dean would look at him that way. He's on a date with Magnus, after all. Magnus, who smiles at Alec in a way that Dean wasn't graced with until now.

Dean pulls his gaze from the two other men and turns to Castiel. "So, you're a professor? Of what exactly?"

"Church history." Great change of topic, Winchester. "Are you a martial arts instructor like Alec?"

"No," Dean chuckles. "I train in my spare time, but I'm a car mechanic and teach the next generation."

It's the first time that Castiel's frown smooths out this evening and a tender smile plays on his lips. "Teaching is such a great vocation, don't you agree?"

Dean thinks of his trainees and nods. "It's pretty rewarding, yeah." Dean can't take his eyes off Castiel's beautiful lips. Alec will kill him.

***

"Oh, you must go to the London Eye, should you ever be there. It's magnificent."

Alec chuckles. "I will remember that the next time I portal over."

Magnus hits his arm playfully. "I'm just so happy to finally be on a Ferris Wheel again. Castiel is such a—no, that would be mean to say. He has his reasons."

"I like people who don't feel the need to belittle others," Alec says, seemingly apropos of nothing.

"I think everyone has an intrinsic value. No matter their strengths or weaknesses." Alec smiles at him. Magnus quirks an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," Alec smirks. "You're just really beautiful." Magnus' lips part in surprise. The sight is very distracting. "Sorry. I guess that was inappropriate. You're Dean's date after all."

Magnus looks down at his date standing suspiciously close to his friend, who usually hates it when people do that. "I don't have the feeling he's truly interested in me. Are you sure he's gay?"

Alec laughs out loud. "He's a disaster bi. Can get every woman he wants, but let a man flirt with him and he switches into panic mode."

"I figured that. I was playing hard to get and he turned the other way."

Alec chuckles. "I can imagine that. But I'm happy that you tried to get to know him anyway. Although I don't think that you two are a good match."

Magnus smirks in amusement. "Is that so?"

Alec nods and moves over to Magnus' bench. "Yeah," he says when the cabin has finally stopped swaying. "I wish you were my date."

"Why? Because we have so much in common?" Magnus snorts.

Alec shrugs. "Opposites attract." He leans in, to Magnus' ear. "And I saw you checking out my ass," he whispers over the noises of the fair.

"You have a very nice ass, Alec. Who would blame me?"

***

"Sonofabitch! I can't believe he's kissing my date!"

Castiel chuckles, and the sound worms itself into Dean's chest and settles in his heart. "They look cute together, though."

"I guess they'll take another round, huh?" Dean laughs.

"Seems that way. Would you like to walk over the fair with me?" Dean smiles at him. He intertwines their fingers and relishes Castiel's answering smile. Alec will likely not use Krav Maga on him.

[natsubeatsrock]

Did Mashima fridge Juvia?

Well, it was only a matter of time.

I knew I would have to talk about this some year on August 31st. It just happens that this is the year.

For those who don't know, today is a special day in this blog's history. Six years ago, I made a long post talking about Juvia. Most notably, I was fearful about the possibility that Juvia would die. A year later, I was reacting to chapter 499, where Juvia was presumed to have died. Since then, I've used this day to talk about Juvia dying in some way or another. 

Last year, I mentioned that I wasn't willing to open this can of worms. And yet, here we are. To be honest, I figured that this was a topic worth talking about, but not in that post. I was already planning to dive into that this year.

To start, let's talk about the term.

Flashback to 1994. In issue 54 of Green Lantern, the main character walks into his apartment. His girlfriend has been killed and stuffed into a refrigerator by one of his enemies.

Five years later, [insert descriptor here] comic book writer Gail Simone took this incident as the impetus to note a trend in writing female characters in comics. They die or face serious bodily harm to advance the arcs of fellow male characters. She teamed up with other writers to start a website called "Women in Refrigerators". It's a list of female comic characters who fit this trope, to some degree or another. It's still up today, and you can see some more recent inclusions.

My own thoughts on this trope are mixed. I think that there's something to be said about one character's development coming at the expense of another character. Especially if that trend is decidedly gendered. Though, this argument is used in ways that come across in ways that are infuriatingly stupid and short-sighted. I've even seen it argued that women being harmed in fiction is inherently misogynistic. (Please don't make me talk about this.)

In any case, the argument has far exceeded the scope of comic books. (I say as if I'm not talking about comics.) This has been brought up in talking about media of all sorts. Video games, movies, television, and more. If a female character is placed in harm's way, people will argue whether or not she was fridged.

So, with that in mind, let's talk about Juvia's death.

Or false death?

I mean, we thought she was dead, but it turned out to be a fake-out.

Actually, let's talk about that. That happens to be a great place to start.

Does it count as being fridged if the serious effects were reversed?

I know that probably sounds like I'm splitting hairs. After all, it's not as if chapter 499 is wiped out of existence because we also got chapter 500. Mashima ultimately decided to kill Juvia. That's what should matter most to our discussion. Honestly, I might be inclined to buy this argument under normal circumstances. However, there happens to be a group of people who argue otherwise. They've convinced me that this is worth talking about.

Who are these horrible misogynists who would discount this kind of suffering on Juvia's part?

The people behind Women in Refrigerators.

At least, sort of?

As you might imagine, people have argued against the idea of this trope. To many people, more men have been harmed in fiction. In many cases, men in pain are treated as nothing special. In fact, there are examples of men dying to further the character arcs of female characters.

As a response to this, the website has included an article entitled "Dead Men Defrosting." Essentially, it doesn't matter if men do go through similar pain. There is a difference between these situations. In many cases, men who get fridged are eventually restored to their initial state. They gain their powers, are healed, or even come back to life. Women don't often get that same opportunity in comics.

Let's stop and think about Juvia's situation for a second. She was dead for all of one week, as far as fans are concerned. In canon, it was even less time. If Gray decided to stay behind for a few minutes, he also would have been healed by Wendy. In fact, with the continental connection to Tenrou Island, the whole scenario is forfeit. In hindsight, Juvia's life was never in danger.

So, could it be said that Juvia was truly fridged if she ended up being "defrosted"?

No, technically speaking.

Then again, I've been very critical of the writing of this. I've made many posts explaining why I think this was bad. Would ending the discussion here be the right thing to do? More importantly, is that the kind of resolution you clicked on this post to find?

There is also an elephant in the room. For better or worse, Women in Refrigerators also includes women whose states were corrected. Now, does this contradict the point they made regarding male characters? It’s starting to feel as though I should make a post about this trope on its own.

In any case, let’s ignore the fact that this didn’t actually stick. For the sake of this, let's assume that this does fall under the definition of fridging. Or, at least, that it could.

Did Mashima fridge Juvia?

To say that it did would mean that the death was done to move Gray's character arc. And... well... I mean...

Look, Gray is pushed to the edge of his sanity because he believes Juvia has died. That much is obvious, given the context of his rematch with Invel. I'm not willing to argue that this wasn't the case.

But...

I can't say that Juvia's death was so big a reason for Gray to change. 

If we're talking about Gruvia, maybe it could be argued he decided to take Juvia's romantic feelings seriously after seeing her die. But that only works if you take his words in chapter 499 in the most literal sense possible. It's more likely that he already had feelings for Juvia and was ready to share them after the war ended.

Outside of that, because Juvia died, Gray fights Invel, who he blames for killing Juvia. When he beats the stuffing out of him, he finds out that Natsu was END and directs his fury towards him. They fight for a bit, but they're ultimately stopped. Once he finds out about the Natsu-Zeref death arrangement, he decides the best way to deal with the situation is to go through with Lost Iced Shell.

You could read this as Gray going through with Lost Iced Shell because of Juvia. If Juvia didn't die (but not really), Gray wouldn't think to go use the spell. However, this view discounts Gray's stated motivations for using Lost Iced Shell: guilt over fighting Natsu and wanting to protect him from dying. Gray obviously regrets how the situation with Juvia went if the final chapter means anything. But Lost Iced Shell doesn't seem to be done because of Juvia. (I may rant about a comment I got about this some other day.)

And now, I will defy conventional wisdom and make probably the most controversial argument possible about this moment. Juvia's sacrifice was for Juvia's character arc. Not Gray's.

It's worth remembering what Juvia's arc is. I know that fandom often questions what Juvia's arc is. However, I believe that her arc is best described as understanding love. When she first fights Gray, she says that she has no need for love. A few arcs later, she sacrifices herself because of her love for Fairy Tail.

The motivation for Juvia sacrificing herself for Gray is her love for Gray. No one questions Juvia's feelings for Gray. However, this moment shows that she's willing to sacrifice her own life for Gray. Do you think that Juvia would do this before Phantom Lord?

This isn't to say that I think Juvia's arc was well-written. It's easy to criticize Juvia's extravagant displays of love seem. Or how Juvia's love seems to center more around Gray than others. Or how there are ways to show that you love someone in non-romantic ways. And fans of the series have shared the problems they have with how Juvia's character was handled.

But we're not here to talk about those things. We're here to ask if Mashima "killed" Juvia for Gray's development. And, despite how bad I think the moment was, I can't say that Mashima did.

Consider I’m the one saying this. Like, it would be something if one of the bigger Gruvia blogs made this argument. (I feel as though a couple of them may have blocked me.) That’s something that could be expected. I’ve outright called this the worst moment in the series at one time. I’d love to tack on another reason not to like this moment.

But I can’t.

“That’s because you’re clearly against the idea of this trope existing, chauvanist pig!“

I’ll assume you missed the intro for the trope earlier in this post. I’m willing to admit that this does happen. In fact, I already talked about how I hate how Last Ages happened. Ultear got done way dirtier than Juvia did and didn’t have the effects reversed. Not to mention, it was ACTUALLY done to further Gray’s character.

In Conclusion:

I don’t think it’s a good idea to call what happened to Juvia “being fridged“. Even if Juvia were to have actually died.

[emptymanuscript]

Believing Contextual Reality

One of the channels I subscribe to on YouTube is Jill Bearup’s That’s Fighting Talk! which is lots of fun, interesting, and I recommend it. She analyzes fights in movies and talks about how you convey and misconvey the movie’s goals through the fights.

Over lunch today I’m watching her video on the combat in Wonder Woman 1984. And she had this great quote:

Everyone has their own level of reality bending they’re prepared to accept. But there comes a point where people just stop being interested in something because, even if it's not on a conscious level, some part of their brain just doesn't believe it. If you don't have a language for talking about fights then you maybe can't explain why something isn't working for you. But if your brain doesn't believe what's happening it's just not going to be enticing. If it feels fake or it feels pointless then it just becomes boring. While a huge part of the "feeling it" is the setup and the emotional beats, another big part of it is making it feel like it could be real in the context of the world that you're in. If Diana can fly, great, but if Diana can't fly yet, she shouldn't land like she's gently stepping off a podium. She shouldn't swing like she's not supporting all of her weight on one arm. She shouldn't flip a truck end over end even if it is possible for her jump above it in a mighty leap.

Remove the specifics from this quote and this is a deep truth about storytelling and how nearly every aspect of story works.

For the most part, audiences don’t have a full and sophisticated language for discussing story issues of any kind. Even the things they think they know are often based in partial understandings of what is going on. There is no end of people who will lecture you about cliché that don’t have the foggiest idea of what makes one use of the event a cliché and another not.

That doesn’t mean they don’t recognize problems. It doesn’t mean that problems won’t disturb them to the point that they’ll disengage with the story. All they don’t have is a way to tell YOU why it isn’t working. They just know it doesn’t. And they have to go into full mental acrobatics to try and explain why, at which point they’ll often mess it up and convince themselves of something entirely untrue.

This is WHY so many experienced novelists and writing teachers insist you should always listen to someone tell you there is a problem with your work but never listen to anyone’s solutions. Spotting there is a problem is something everyone can do. While explaining what the problem that has been recognized is, is a complex skill that’s difficult even for other experienced writers.

But a lot of it does just come down to a contextual verisimilitude. The audience expects a story to work in a certain way and has a limit for variation. While there are general guides, everyone has their own individual threshold. So you kind of have to point and shoot and accept that you’ll miss people. You just have to convince ENOUGH. That’s all you can do. And most of doing that is just making sure the logic of the story works. If you set a rule, you must stick to it. If you alter a rule, you must spend time adjusting the Audience’s expectations. Because if you don’t, even if it isn’t right away, they do start to disengage and reject that reality.

The second the audience starts doing that, you’re living on borrowed time. The life of your work will be exactly as long as it takes for the audience to stop giving you a chance to fix it. The more they love the story, the more time they’ll give you but that’s a dangerous hook to hang your hat on.

So: the important question: HOW do you keep that consistency? How do you prevent people from disengaging.

Make it clear to yourself that you are assuming reality

Unless you actively write down a rule for your story, force it to conform to reality as you understand it.

If you are aware that you deviate significantly from the norm in terms of how you view the world and reality, acknowledge those differences and add them to the list below.

Write it down

Even though I’m terrible at this, I’m telling you, this is the solution. EVERY place you intend to deviate from exact replication of how you expect the real world you personally live in to work, write it down. Those are the real rules and laws you have to watch out for. They’re the physics of the context of your writing. And there are more than you think at first

If you’re writing in a specific genre, your genre WILL have contextual rules. They ALL do. Even if it is as basic as: in Fantasy, Magic works OR in Romance, there is a happily ever after. These are rules that define differences from boundless reality, define reader expectations, and define the boundaries you MUST work within if you want someone to pick up your stories and read them because of the genre.

KISS

Keep It Super Simple. No, I mean it. Keep It Simple, Stupid. If you have overlapping rules, see if you can reduce them to a single, all encompassing rule. If you have duplicate rules, toss them. The less rules you have on your written down list, the better. That doesn’t mean cheat. Magic exists doesn’t cover that I can sacrifice my life so you’ll live. Yes it uses magic but that isn’t an intrinsic expectation of magic existing. This list exists for you to use in writing your story FOR YOUR AUDIENCE. The list exists to help you tell them what is going on. The more you have to tell them, the more they’ll tune out. How much did you want to stop reading this? Consider this post as what your reader has to go through for every point on your list. You can only get away with so much and you can only make it so complicated. Keep It STUPID Simple.

For every item on your list, you must plan at least three events that SHOW (no telling for you with this one - though you can also tell in addition elsewhere) the rule in operation. You must show that this is truth in the context of your story. For things like the happily ever ending, what you’re looking at is events that prove that such a thing is possible, even if it isn’t happening at that exact moment. it’s a way to prove sub aspects of the truth.

Iteration is great. Feel free to expand on the basics in more interesting ways. Audiences love watching simple concepts grow out into more meaningful, important, and complex arrangements.

Contradiction is forbidden except under very special circumstances.

No, seriously, don’t. A contradiction is setting yourself up for failure.

Even accidental contradiction, must be weeded out and destroyed. These are the rules of your universe. Invalidating them is teaching the audience that the rule doesn’t exist.

Ok, yes, there is a special circumstance. Which you should avoid unless you absolutely can’t avoid it. If there are conflicting rules set in tension, such as “There is Magic,” “People who love can’t do magic,” “Romances get happily ever afters,” then, and only then, can you do your best to be clever about contradicting one rule in service to another. Such as maybe the sorcerer learns to take out their hearts at every dawn so they can go be a sorcerer every day but at night they put their heart back in as the sun goes to bed so they can live every night happily ever after with their true love. That Way, they are truly fulfilled in all walks of their life and they live truly happily ever after. But understand, if you do something like that, it’s going to be one of the main threads of your story because it won’t actually work well any other way. So you better be darn sure that you NEED that contradiction.

CONTRADICTION IS FORBIDDEN!

I know I just did that up above but I’m serious. Especially about the accidental contradiction. That’s going to be a part of your editing. You’ll need to weed through your work looking for all the places where you have accidentally proven something that contradicts a point on your list. That list is building instructions from the divine. Follow it religiously. Drive the contradictions out.

(Optional) Ask

Just straight up ask people if they’ll buy what you’re selling. Do you read romance? Would you believe a fantasy story where love made it so you couldn’t cast magic? Would you be willing to try a book about a sorcerer who tried to keep magic and win their true love? Would you believe me if I said they DO live happily ever after?

[zayray030]

5 times Jason surprised the Titans and 1 time they surprised him

Chapter Title: I didn't know he liked musicals!?

Chapter: 3/6

Summary: A fight was about to break out over what movie everyone wanted to watch but all Jason wanted to do was watch Phantom of the Opera.

“It's my turn to pick the movie!” yelled Rachel back at Rose.

Movie nights were usually ‘calm’ in Titans tower but tonight it seemed it was going to be a hellish night. ‘Great.’ thought Jason.

Currently a cat fight was about to break out between Rachel and Rose over which movie was going to be played. Currently it was either a horror movie or animation and Jason just wanted to watch his own movie.

“Girl, girls. Please. No fighting.” interrupted Kory, but there was an amused smile on her face.

“How did I even get dragged into this?” asked Jason as he turned to look at the idiot who thought this was a smart idea, Dick.

“Because this is a good team building exercise and you're part of this team so you're going to sit here and watch with us.” replied Dick, shooting a stern gaze when it looked like Jason was going to contradict him.

‘Could have fooled me.” he thought as he desperately tried not to nod off as he watched the others squabble for the remote. He just wanted to watch The Phantom of the Opera.

“Guys, come on. This is a team building exercise.” chastised Dawn, shooting Rose and Rachel looks of disappointment.

“Ooh, can we watch the Jungle Book?” asked Gar excitedly.

“No!” yelled Rachel and Rose before going back to arguing.

“How do we stop them?” asked Dick worriedly.

“I don't know, Dick. Just leave them to it.” muttered Hank before stretching out and laying his head on Dawn's lap. She just rolled her eyes at her boyfriend and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Okay, that's it! Since none of you can pick a movie properly and in peace the one person who hasn't argued, made a stupid comment or a decision is going to pick the movie. And since that person is Jason, he's going to pick the movie!” snapped Donna finally having enough of the others talking.

“Are you kidding!” snarled Rose.

“He's going to pick some horrible movie just to fuck with us!” snapped Rachel but the both of them quietened down when Donna sent them a glare so powerful it could make a minotaur run.

“Jason, sweetheart, pick any movie you want. We're all going to watch peacefully and accept anything you pick.” said Donna sweetly but there was a threat behind her words. If anyone tried to argue with her they would wish for death.

Jason just nodded mutley and took the remote out of her grip and quickly turned on the Netflix and went straight to the search bar.

“So what's it going to be, nerd?” asked Rose mockingly.

“A movie about nuns?” muttered Rachel under her breath but Jason still flushed.

“Hey be nice!” said Gar coming to his rescue.

“Enough! Rachel, sit next to me. Rose next to Donna. Gar, stay there next to Dick.” Kory finally said.

They all quickly situated themselves but Rachel and Rose were still glaring daggers at either Donna and him. Jason shrank in on himself but felt Donna putting an arm around him.

He quickly took a deep breath and began typing. Everyone looked surprised at his movie, even Donna looked surprised as it. Jason used those few precious moments to start the movie quickly before anyone can argue.

As the movie continued on everyone kept their focus on Jason and began analysing him.

He looked… happy. Like there was nothing else he would rather do than watch the musical. He had a small smile on his face and he was mouthing to the songs and he was laughing and he was acting like a… kid. Like a normal everyday kid. It was nice.

And the fact that he looked adorable swamped in the blankets that Donna had placed around him with just his head peeking out and a light blush on his cheeks had absolutely nothing to do with it.

The others noticed however that he was beginning to dose off even though he was trying his hardest to stay awake. Donna rubbed her hands up and down his back and began humming a lullaby in his ear and Jason's eyes started closing just before the next song began.

When the movie was over, everyone just sat there.

“That wasn't half bad.” Rose finally said, stretching her arms over her head and leaning against Dawn.

“Yeah! I loved it!” exclaimed Rachel excitedly before she was shushed and everyone pointed at Jason's sleeping form.

“I didn't know Jason liked musicals.” said Gar but there was a slight frown on his face. He thought he and Jason shared everything.

“Hey, boy wonder, what are you doing?” questioned Hank when he saw Dick on his phone.

“Calling Bruce.” he replied before ringing the man. Everyone just sat there in patience and after a few rings Bruce answered.

“Dick? What's wrong?” came Bruce's worried voice.

“Why would anything be wrong.” replied Dick, but his voice was tense.

“You don't normally call me unless something really bad happens, chum.” replied Bruce and everyone can feel how dry his voice was.

“True. Just a quick question though. Did you know Jason liked musicals?”

“Of course I did. For his first birthday at the Manor I took him to see the musical that was playing and he absolutely adored it. Fell asleep on me at the end and had to carry him though, but he looked adorable.” and everyone could hear the fondness in the man's voice.

“K. Thanks.” said Dick before hanging up before Bruce would say anything else.

“Well now I know what else to get him for his birthday.” muttered Danna before kissing the top of Jason's head.

“What else were you going to get him?” asked Kory, raising an eyebrow at her.

“A visit from Diana. He worships the ground she walks on and she's his favourite superhero.” replied Donna easily before picking Jason up, blankets and all. “Christ, this kid is tiny.” she muttered.

“Don't you have super strength?” asked Rose.

“Not the point.” replied Donna before walking over to Jason's room and laying him down on his bed. She couldn't help the urge to snap a picture of him. This was going to Diana.

“So what have we learned today?” asked Kory when everyone was seated around the living room again.

“That Jason is a huge nerd who likes musicals.” replied everyone in sync.

“Exactly. Now, Rachel and Rose. Because you two can't be nice to Jason unprompted then you two have to let him pick whatever movie he wants for a month.” said Kory, shooting them both a stern gaze.

They didn't bother arguing and nodded their heads.

“Christ, what else about this kid don't we know?” muttered Hank.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

[irandrura]

Terra Ignota

Over the last few weeks, I read Terra Ignota. I read all of the three published books so far: Too Like the Lightning, Seven Surrenders, and The Will to Battle.

Every review of Terra Ignota I have ever read is wrong. Or rather, every review of Terra Ignota I have ever read takes an extremely different perspective to my own, to the extent that I genuinely don’t understand how the author could have concluded that.

So as not to keep anyone in suspense, my perspective on Terra Ignota is that they are surprisingly trashy books, in a world that doesn’t make very much sense, but that doesn’t matter because the heart and soul of these texts is over-the-top soap opera drama. I think they are probably bad, and they outright offended me at several points, but nonetheless they drew me in enough that I wanted to keep reading. There is merit in that.

 If you’re the sort of person who cares about spoilers, this is your only warning.

As I said, I don’t understand most of the reviews I have read of these books. I simply don’t.

 I don’t understand the view that the writing itself is poetic and beautiful. Palmer has some good phrases from time to time, but overall I don’t find the prose particularly amazing. This is a very subjective point, so I won’t belabour it.

 I don’t understand the view that the books are a masterful triumph of worldbuilding. From my perspective, the worldbuilding is actually kind of half-assed, and more importantly, Palmer does not seem to actually care about worldbuilding that much. It isn’t her priority. Reading the books I found myself constantly asking “How does X actually work?” or “Y sounds totally insane, could you explain how it makes sense to me?” or “Z seems like it clashes with X, please resolve this contradiction for me?”, and Palmer never answers those questions for you. If I want some more explanation for why, say, a global transportation system serving billions of people is run without oversight, from a single private residence, looked after by a man well-known to be suicidally depressed… nope, I’m not getting that. If I want some context for how hive-switching works, or how it interacts with crime, not happening. Even minor questions: in The Will to Battle, our heroes talk to a band of criminals involved in human trafficking, and I immediately wanted to know what human trafficking means in a world where borders have been abolished, geographic nations have been abolished, and every place on Earth is just a short taxi ride from every other place. This is the sort of question Palmer does not answer or even acknowledge.

 And I don’t actually buy that she’s interested in the questions that I see raised when the books are spruiked to me. Are you intrigued by the question of what the world would look like if every individual could choose their own government, their own law code, unconstrained by geography? I’m intrigued by that. It sounds interesting. But this is not a question that Terra Ignota is actually interested in. It seems like it should be interested in it, and I read enough breathless expositions of how cool the hive system is that I expected Terra Ignota to be interested in it… but it’s not. If you’re interested in, say, the question of whether a permanent exit option would make absolute dictatorship more humane, as in the Masons, then I agree that’s interesting – but it is not a question that the text of Terra Ignota takes any interest in. The big worldbuilding questions raised by the hives are all window dressing.

 I don’t understand the idea that Terra Ignota is a brilliant depiction of utopia. I want to acknowledge straight off the bat that I may have a bias here, because Terra Ignota’s world is premised on the, well, genocide of people like me, or at least the forcible suppression and exile of people like me, but I don’t think it’s only the fact that I’m openly in defiance of the First Black Law. Rather, I note two things here. Firstly, it’s hard to see whether Terra Ignota’s society is actually utopian because we spend so little time in it. We do not see how ordinary people live in this world, or what makes it wonderful. What Terra Ignota spends most of its time on is the scheming and backstabbing of the dozen most powerful people in the world, and everyone outside that little circle barely exists in the text. (Abigail Nussbaum noted in her review that Terra Ignota’s world never really feels like it has more than a few hundred people in it, and I agree.) It’s hard to convincingly argue Terra Ignota is a utopia or a dystopia, because we never meet the whole population. We meet a small handful of amoral nobility as they play out a space opera Game of Thrones. That’s certainly entertaining, and I give Palmer credit for making it fun to read, but it’s not really an investigation of utopia. Secondly, where we do see glimpses of the world outside the parlours of the ruthless rich, it…honestly seems rather conventional, and rather like the 21st century. People work fewer hours a week, taxis are much more efficient, movies have smelltracks as well as soundtracks, they go to the Olympics, apparently the Oscars endured the collapse of all nations and religions… but there is little in this world that seems radically different to our own. It’s all minor, incremental bits of technological progress. They’ve eliminated poverty, which is good, but I usually expect something more radical from utopia than that. What do people actually do in Terra Ignota that’s different to what any upper-middle class American might do today? Other, of course, than not go to church, call everyone singular they, and wear tracking devices.

 I don’t understand the idea that these books deal with deep philosophical or theological themes. Like the hives themselves, it’s all window dressing. The narrator Mycroft is obsessed with the 18th century, and so is a bizarre anachronistic brothel that somehow every major world leader attends (cf. worldbuilding being weak, the world only feeling like it has a few hundred people in it), but they don’t do very much with this. Mycroft imagines Thomas Hobbes occasionally butting in, but his imaginary Hobbes has little to say beyond "Hi, I’m the guy who wrote Leviathan!” The characters reference Diderot and de Sade and Voltaire, but usually only on the surface level, and when they do try to go deeper, they often get the references wrong. The same for the theology. My point is not that Terra Ignota is bad: just that it isn’t really that interested in the political philosophy or the theology. It uses 18th century thought as an aesthetic. Deism, miracles, proof of God’s existence, how gods might communicate, etc., are not the questions that occupy the text. Ada Palmer is not a theologian.

 But all that said, I enjoyed Terra Ignota.

 I want to emphasise that. I enjoyed Terra Ignota! I am not saying that it’s bad! I’m just saying that it was not what everyone told me it would be.

 Terra Ignota is a book about a bunch of very powerful, very horrible people, who all apparently go to the same brothel and are interested in the same wacky theories about human nature and God and so on, lying to and betraying each other. I think Palmer is really interested in the characters. Mycroft, our pretentious narrator who by the end of book three is genuinely losing his grip on reality and writing hallucinations. Jedd Mason, the madman who believes he’s God, but is probably just the delusional product of a radical set-set experiment. Caesar, the iron-proud absolute dictator seeking to do his duty by his ambitious, power-obsessed hive. Dominic, the sadistic sexual predator who nonetheless worships Jedd with fanatical devotion. Carlyle, the kind and compassionate philosopher-in-residence who inevitably gets tortured and abused. Ojiro Sniper, the freaky sex doll who nonetheless seeks to become the Brutus to Jedd’s Caesar. Apollo Mojave, the dead-but-still-influential space wizard who sought to cause a world war for stupid reasons. And so on. The characters are generally well-drawn and interesting enough that I want to see what happens to them.

 I should emphasise Palmer’s achievement in making me want to know what happens to these people, especially because they’re all so unsympathetic. Carlyle and Bridger stand out as the most truly sympathetic characters in the novels, but by book three, the former has been captured, tortured, and now limps along, dead-eyed and broken-spirited, in the train of one of the resident sadists, and the latter has quite reasonably gone “Screw this” and used his immense psychic powers to delete himself from the book. But most of the core characters in this drama – Mycroft, Saladin, Jedd, Sniper, Ganymede and Danae, Madame d’Arouet, etc. – are mad, evil, both, or otherwise extremely unsympathetic. It is to Palmer’s credit that I want to know what happens in the war anyway. The most sympathetic of the political leaders in the text, Vivien Ancelet and Bryar Kosala, spend most of their time fruitlessly begging for peace. While they, perhaps alone of the leaders, have genuinely laudable intentions, it has been clear from the first book that neither will be permitted to achieve anything notable. The only people to barrack for, in Terra Ignota, are those noble if compromised few who seek to avoid a war – and who we all know will fail.

 Book four, it seems, will finally be about the war that the first three books have been setting up, and even though I frankly want all three sides to lose – the Jedd faction, the Sniper faction, and Utopia are all deeply unpleasant, albeit in different ways – I am sure I will find it extremely entertaining to see how this all collapses.

 Do I recommend Terra Ignota? I don’t know. If you want detailed, thorough worldbuilding, sincere contemplation of deep philosophical questions about theodicy, politics, and human nature, or a stirring vision of a possible utopia… no. Do not read it for those things. It does not have those things in it.

 But it does have a scene where the prime minister of Europe body-tackles the Olympic president through a plate glass window and they land in a pile of people having sex mid-orgy, while the media broadcasts it worldwide.

 And that’s excellent.

[lelitachay]

Frozen fanfiction: Søsken

Summary: Even though Anna loved her sister-in-law, she couldn’t help but notice there was something peculiar about Elsa. Everything starts to make sense after an accident and a forced family reunion.

Modern AU. Kristanna - Frohana - Kristoff & Elsa BrOTP.

Chapters 1 to 10 - Here  

Chapter 11 - Repercussions    

Chapter 12 - Time apart

Chapter 13 - Guilt

Chapter 14 - The way I see it

Chapter 15 - Reconnecting

Chapter 16 - Finding home

Chapter 17 - What the future holds

-

Broken trust

With the coming of Spring, the snowstorms in the North mountain stopped, giving Anna and Elsa the opportunity to spend more time outside. The weather was still cold and the occasional sleet interrupted their activities, but Anna was happily taking advantage of the nice weather to leave the cottage more often. It was a nice change for both girls now that Elsa was able to be outside and move her leg more, and Anna was enjoying the North mountain in all its beauty.

Over a month had passed since Elsa’s cast was removed and her recovery was becoming more evident. She no longer used her crutches, she could walk longer distances, and she was able to complete the exercises the therapist gave her without complaint. Movements that had been a painful experience at first, were now part of her daily routine and she was pleased to feel her leg getting stronger every week. She was still careful not to overdo herself and not train more than necessary, and of course a walking boot was still a necessary precaution; but all in all Elsa could experience a sense of freedom she hadn’t enjoyed since before the accident. 

It was for that reason Anna was confident Elsa was going to be able to complete the activity she had planned for her that day. She had arrived to the mountain early in the morning and she had dragged the older girl outside; explaining they were going to spend some time in a small slope not far away from Elsa’s cottage. 

What call Elsa’s surprise, however, was not the time she had arrived, but the fact she was carrying a couple of sleds with her; even when the amount of snow was not enough for them to use them. “I thought you said we were going to study today,” said Elsa after her curiosity took the best of her, when they reached the slope.

“We are!” answered Anna throwing the sleds in between both of them, and taking her backpack off her shoulders.

“Here?” They were at the top of a short slope and Elsa couldn’t see anything worth studying around them.

“Yes, here. We’re going to use these!” Her hand pointing to the sleds on the ground.  

“Sleds?”

“Yes. Just follow my lead.” A big smile plastered on Anna’s face as she put one of the sleds close to where the slope began. “Come on. Get on it and sled down the slope.”

Elsa looked incredulously at Anna and then at the slope. There wasn’t enough snow for it to be safe, and she had no intentions of getting hurt. “No, thanks.” 

“What? Why?” Anna knew perfectly well why and she was expecting Elsa’s answer from the beginning, but she didn’t want to spoil her idea.

“Because I want my leg to heal and to keep my head in place.” 

“Oh, really?” she said raising an eyebrow. “And why is that?” 

Elsa stayed silent looking at Anna for a few seconds. She couldn’t believe she was asking something so ridiculous. Even a child could see it was a bad idea. “There isn't much snow. I could sled down for a few metres, but then my sled would get stuck and I would end up with my head on the ground.” 

“Okay. Why is snow better?” Anna could barely keep a serious face seeing Elsa's unamused expression. In the last few weeks she had found out - with Kristoff's help - how fun it was to get on Elsa's nerves with the silliest things. 

"Snow is snow. You can sled on it." 

"Okay," she said, thinking it was best to stop goofing around. "Now, I need the real explanation. Why is snow better?" 

“Well… It just is.” She said, not sure about her answer. “I don't know how to explain it. Things just slide on it."

Anna smiled at her answer and kneeled down to take a book out f her bag. “The answer is here.” She handed the book to Elsa and let her examine it for a moment.

“Physics?” 

“Physics,” she agreed. “It's super fun. You'll love it.”

Elsa turned a few pages of the book, but didn’t seem convinced.

“Have you ever heard about Newton’s laws?” asked Anna, as she took the book from Elsa’s hands. She didn’t want her to start reading until they did the experiment first.

“No.” 

“Have you heard about gravity?” she tried. 

“Yes.” 

“Then you've heard at least one of Newton's laws.” She laughed when she noticed Elsa’s confusion. “Don't look at me like that! I'll show you what I’m talking about. But first,” she put an arm around Elsa’s shoulder. “I need you to cover the slope with snow.”

“What?”

“Cover the slope with snow.” It didn’t take long for Anna to notice Elsa was not at all comfortable with the idea, and she insisted, “come on. Use your powers so we can do the activity I planned.”

“No.”

“Please…” she begged. “I really want to see you use your powers.” 

She shook her head and crossed her arms, hiding her hands from view. “It could be dangerous, Anna.”

“Your powers are not dangerous.” She thought of a way to convince Elsa. After all, they couldn’t do what she had in mind if Elsa didn’t cooperate. And if she had to be honest, she was dying to see Elsa’s powers once again. She had been patient and she had given Elsa enough time to feel comfortable around her before asking; but now, she couldn’t wait anymore. “Please use them. I'll stand over there if it makes you feel better,” she said, pointing a few metres away from where they were standing.

“I don't know…”

“I know for a fact you use your powers when no-one's around.”

“That's not true,” tried to contradict Elsa, but Anna’s incredulous expression let her know she didn’t believe a word she was saying. “I… I-” she sighed in defeat. “Fine. I do sometimes.”

“Busted!” laughed Anna. 

“So what if I use my powers from time to time?” Elsa didn’t like the mocking tone Anna was using. For her, her powers were part of who she was, even if they made her life harder sometimes.

“There's nothing wrong with it,” clarified Anna. “All I'm saying is that, since you use your powers on your own, you can start using them in front of me. It'll be fun. Come on!” 

“I don't feel comfort-”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “Or is it that you can’t do what I’m asking?” 

“Of course I can.” In Elsa’s opinion, Anna clearly didn’t understand how strong her powers were if she thought she wasn’t able to do something as simple as covering a small slope in snow. 

“I bet that is,” continued Anna, not paying attention to Elsa. “You can't. So, you’d rather say you don't want to, than to make a fool of yourself.” 

“What?” 

“And here I was thinking you had an amazing power.” She turned around and kneeled down to pick her bag from the floor.

“I can cover the slope in snow in an instant.” 

“There’s no reason to pretend, Elsa. I should have known better.” She turned her head enough to see Elsa’s reaction and smirked when she saw her annoyed expression. She silently thanked Kristoff for teaching her how to push Elsa’s buttons.

“Oh, please, look,” said Elsa in exasperation. She looked down the slope, and with a flick of her hands she covered it with a massive amount of snow. Proud of being perfectly capable of doing it, she turned to see Anna’s expression. But to her surprise, she was grinning. “You just tricked me… Didn't you?” A sigh left her mouth at her own stupidity.

“Yes!” answered Anna excitedly for what she had just seen. The power Elsa possessed was even greater than she had imagined, and she couldn’t be happier she had been able to experience it. “And it was wonderful!”

“I can't believe I fell for that.” She was clearly ashamed for letting her pride get the best of her.

“You should be proud of your powers, you know?” said Anna as she examined Elsa’s snow in her hand. “They are incredibly beautiful.” 

Elsa wasn’t used to receiving compliments for her powers, and blood rushed to her face in an instant. Trying to divert attention from what she had just done, she asked, “what did you want the snow for?” 

“Oh, right!” Anna came back to the matter at hand. “I forgot about that for a moment.” She laughed at herself and ordered, “get on the sled.” 

“Weren't we going to study?”

Letting a tired sigh escape her lips she said, "Can you, please, trust me? Just get on the sled.” 

"I trust you, I just-"

"Ah, la la la," sang Anna, stopping Elsa's excuses. "I don't care. Get on the sled."

Elsa stayed where she was, looking at Anna as if she had lost her mind. But after a few seconds, she accepted defeat and got on the sled. "You are so weird sometimes," she said, once she was comfortably seated. 

"I know. Isn't it fun?" 

Elsa couldn't help but laugh. She had noticed how excited Anna was about whatever they were about to do and, seeing no reason in delaying the inevitable, she said, "Okay. Now what-?” A push on her back sent her down the slope before she could even finish her question, and she couldn't do more than yell Anna's name. “Anna!”

"Mark the spot where the sled stops!" Came Anna's yell from the top as she was reaching the end.

It took Elsa a few minutes to come to a full stop, mark the place and go back to the top of the slope. When she finally reached Anna's side, the girl was getting a second sled ready for her.

"Care to tell me why you pushed me down the-?" 

Anna stood up, took the first sled from Elsa's arms and pointed to the new one which was on its mark, waiting for her. "Get on this other sled."

Elsa crossed her arms and not for the first time looked at Anna as if she had completely lost it. "And here I was thinking the extra sled was in case you wanted to join me in my new adventure of learning how to use a sled."  

"Oh, you behave so much like Kristoff sometimes," complained Anna. There was no point in doing the activity if she explained things to Elsa beforehand. "Just get on the sled and have fun. Will you?" 

"Fine. Fine. You're the boss." 

For the following hour, Anna continued sending Elsa down the slope. Asking her to sit in different positions and even carry some weight with her, as well as changing the sleds everytime. 

It was obvious Elsa began to have fun right after she stopped trying to find some logic behind Anna's experiment. However, she was genuinely curious to know what Anna wanted to achieve with it, and she kept marking where the sleds stopped every time. At some point during the experiment, Elsa challenged Anna to a race. Anna not being able to refuse soon got on the extra sled and began enjoying the activity together with Elsa. 

Anna, on her part, couldn't be happier the activity was working so well. She had planned it during winter but at the time she didn’t dare try it - not wishing to damage Elsa’s leg. But Elsa's powers had proven to be just as perfect as fresh snow, and she was glad she had been able to convince Elsa to use them. 

After Anna had achieved everything she wanted with the activity, and she had had some fun with Elsa, she sat in the snow at the end of the slope with a happy sigh. Elsa soon joined her, sitting next to her. Somehow relieved the activity was over. She had been enjoying herself more than she imagined, but she was starting to feel exhausted. Months of inactivity were still taking a toll on her. 

Taking a deep breath, she asked, “are you going to tell me what we were doing, now?”

“Oh? Oh! Yes, right. Sorry." Anna had been so pleased with herself she had forgotten Elsa was still waiting for an explanation. "You marked every stop, didn’t you?" 

Elsa nodded.

"Great. Now look around and tell me, did you stop in the same place every time?" 

Elsa complied and after a moment she had her answer. "No." 

Anna crossed her legs to be more comfortable and asked, "why do you think that is?" 

Elsa thought for a while. She had an idea, but she knew Anna was now asking as a teacher and was expecting her to justify her answers. She wasn’t sure about the reasons behind the results, but she still tried to give acceptable theories.

Anna listened to her attentively before she began explaining the different laws and how physics had an effect on everything. She wasn’t too specific at first since Elsa was going to read in detail each law once they were back at the cottage. But she was happy to offer the older girl a reasonable explanation. To her surprise, Elsa’s hypothesis were interesting and not at all wrong. Of course she couldn’t justify everything in detail, but Anna was pleased to see she had grasped the main idea of the experiment.

After the explanation was over, Anna suggested they returned to Elsa’s house and sat down to read and take notes from everything they had learnt that morning.

From the beginning, Anna was certain Elsa was going to like the topic, but she never imagined she was going to start thinking on the many ways she could use that knowledge to become a better skier. Making Anna really proud of her. She was smarter than she gave herself credit for.

Not for the first time, Anna thought about how unfair life had been to Elsa. A really smart girl, who could have become anything she wanted, was forced to be an illiterate for half her life; and then she was pushed aside in a society that didn’t see value in those who didn’t have a piece of paper proving they were good enough. But even if the idea made her really angry, she tried to focus in the present. At least after years of injustice, life had offered Elsa a family and a possibility to change her fate.

Anna had been so absorbed by her thoughts she hadn’t realised the older girl had already finished her work, and was putting her things away. “I’m sorry, what?” said Anna when she noticed Elsa was talking to her.

“I was just saying ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you? For what?”

Elsa then smiled, but didn’t look up to meet Anna’s eyes. “For telling me to use my powers today. You reminded me they can bring joy and be useful from time to time.”

Anna beamed at her words, and put her hand on top of Elsa’s, pleased to feel it warmer than usual. “I won’t get tired of saying this Elsa. Your powers are wonderful. It’s time you start giving yourself the chance to enjoy them. Especially around Kristoff and me.”

“Yeah. Maybe...”

She could hear the hesitation in Elsa’s voice, but Anna knew just giving the idea some thought was a huge step forward for Elsa.

--

Anna arrived home later than she had intended that evening. After the studying session with Elsa was over, both girls had stayed in Elsa's couch talking and enjoying some hot chocolate which caused Anna to lose track of time completely. She took the last bus heading to town, and arrived at her parents' a few minutes before dinner.

She entered the kitchen and greeted her mother who was by the stove. Mother and daughter talked about their day and after a while, Anna sat at the small table in the kitchen.

Her family rarely used the table to eat, so Anna was not surprised to see piles of paperwork and documents belonging to her father and a couple of books she had left there the previous day. However, what did call Anna's attention was the half-written letter and envelope she was sure wasn’t there the day before. Not thinking much about it, she picked the envelope, and was shocked to read the addressee.

Thinking it was best to ask her mother instead of jumping to conclusions, Anna called Idunn's attention. "Mum?" 

"Yes, sweetheart?" 

"What’s this?" she asked, raising the envelope for her mother to see. 

The woman turning around to see what Anna was talking about, when she noticed the familiar envelope in her daughter's hand. "Oh, no, no. Give me that." She rushed to where Anna was sitting, and grabbed the envelope from her hand, as well as the letter she had been writing some minutes before Anna arrived. "It’s- it’s nothing important." 

The way she had reacted was all the confirmation Anna needed, but she still asked, "Are you writing a letter to Elsa?" 

"No…" tried to lie Idunn, but soon noticed it was useless. Anna had already read the name in the envelope. "It's not what you think it is." 

Anna raised one eyebrow in disbelief, but didn't say anything, giving her mother the chance to explain herself. 

"It’s just a way of expressing the way I feel," she admitted, ashamed of herself. "It’s silly." 

Anna felt bad for the way her mother looked down and tightened her grip on the letter. If she thought about it, Anna could see some similarities in the way her mother and Elsa behaved whenever they were ashamed. "I don’t think it’s silly…" she tried to reassure. "Something tells me this isn't the first letter you write, is it?" 

Idunn shook her head, still not daring look at Anna in the eyes. 

"How long have you been doing it?" 

"For quite some time now. This must be the tenth letter I've written so far." She put the letter inside the envelope and left it on the table once again.

Anna opened her eyes in surprise. She knew her mother was still struggling with everything that had happened, but to hear she had written over ten letters let her see just how much she wished to talk to her daughter. “Are you planning to send those letters?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Elsa doesn't want to have anything to do with your father and me,” answered Idunn with a sigh. “I want to respect her wishes.” Truth was Idunn and Agdar had stayed in contact during that time with the Bjorgmans. They even met a couple more times after they had discussed Elsa’s past. And every time, Idunn made sure to ask Gerda if Elsa had changed the way she felt, or if she had shown any interest in meeting them again. To her disappointment, Elsa hadn’t changed her resolution not to meet them. 

“Well, she doesn't know what you guys went through. Maybe those letters could be a way to let her know. And it’d be up to her if she wants to hear your reasons. You wouldn’t be forcing her.” Anna remembered her promise to Elsa about not forcing her to give her parents a chance, but she saw no problem in trying to convince her parents not to give up hope.

“Won't I be pressuring her if I send them?”

“I could deliver the letters myself and explain she doesn't have to read them if she doesn't want to. And she knows I won’t pressure her either.”

“I don't know, Anna.” The idea of Elsa reading everything she had written was tempting. After all, more than being able to hold her daughter in her arms again, Idunn wanted Elsa to understand that she had been loved. That she was still very much loved. And she knew her letters made that clear; however, there existed that lingering fear of making everything worse if she sent them.

“Look,” said Anna calling her attention. “All I'm saying is those letters may give you a chance.”

“You really think so?” 

“You've always had a way with words. I'm sure whatever you wrote must be coming from your heart. And I know you've got a good heart, mum.”

Idunn blinked away a couple of tears and embraced her daughter. To hear those words coming from Anna’s mouth after everything they had put her through meant more to Idunn than she could explain. She kissed her cheek and promised to think about her offer.

Anna smiled and detached from her mother when the kitchen timer called their attention. 

Idunn returned to her task at hand, and after a few minutes she dared ask, “how's Elsa doing?” She always wanted to ask Anna that question after her younger daughter returned from the mountain, but she rarely found the courage. 

Anna’s smile became bigger with the question, happy to know the ‘taboo’ of talking about Elsa’s life was slowly disappearing in the household. “She's doing fine. Her leg is healing fast.” Anna walked back to her mother’s side so they could talk more comfortably. “She's even training with Marshmallow now. They go walking and he also helps her with her exercises.”

Idunn smiled knowing her daughter was finally feeling better after the terrible accident, but her expression changed to one of confusion at the strange name. “Who's Marshmallow?”

“Your son-in-law,” said Anna matter-of-factly, before laughing at her own joke. She was certain that if Elsa could hear her, she’d be throwing something at her right at that moment.

“You call Kristoff 'Marshmallow'?"

But of course her mother didn’t get the joke since she had completely forgotten to mention the guy’s existence before that moment. “No, no,” she laughed again. “Your other son-in-law. Well, he's not technically your son-in-law yet. But you know what I mean.”

“To be honest, I don’t,” she said, having no idea what Anna was talking about. “Just tell me who Marshmallow is.” 

“He's Elsa's friend. A huge mountaineer. Ridiculously tall.”

“Are they- are they together?” Idunn stuttered, taken aback now that she understood who the man was. 

Anna pushed her mother with the shoulder in a playful way. “Interested in her love life, mum?” 

“What? No, Anna.” Leave it to her daughter to find the way to make her feel guilty for prying into Elsa’s life. “You said he was- You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

She cracked up at her mother’s poor attempt at justifying her curiosity. “I'm just messing with you!”

Idunn didn’t waste time and threw the dishcloth in her daughter’s face.

“Hey!” complained Anna in between laughs before answering her mother’s question. “No, they are not together. I just like to joke around. But he is her friend and they’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

She smiled at the idea of Elsa finally finding a friend outside her family circle. But her happiness was short lived, worrying about Elsa’s safety. Finding out about her past had made Idunn more aware of the dangers of the wrong people finding out about Elsa’s powers. “Is he a good person?”

Not paying too much attention to her mother’s question, Anna answered, “he's really quiet and respectful. He's a pretty great guy. I think you'd like him.”

She sighed in relief, knowing she could trust her daughter’s judgement. After a bad experience with an ex-boyfriend, Anna had learnt to read people’s intentions better, and she always checked the intentions of those who got closer to her loved ones. “I'm glad Elsa's found a friend, then.”

Anna found her mother’s comment a bit weird, but she simply nodded.

--

The following weekend, Anna was eager to visit Elsa so she took a bus on Friday evening to get to the North mountain the day before their class. She had something special she wanted to share with Elsa, and her enthusiasm couldn’t wait till morning. She thought it was a good opportunity to spend some time with the girl too. Talking or simply enjoying time together had become harder after Anna’s exams began. University had taken a lot of her time, and she rarely found the chance to stay more time than it was strictly necessary to help Elsa study. 

The weather was colder than the previous week, forcing Anna to hide her face inside her scarf and put her hands inside her pockets as she walked in the direction of Elsa’s cottage. Coming out of the path, she noticed the lights outside the cabin weren’t on, something strange considering Elsa’s preference. She always insisted on keeping the lights on since it made homes look more lively.

She knocked on the door a couple of times but to her bad luck no-one answered. She knew there existed the possibility Elsa was spending some time with Marshall, and Anna was sure it wasn’t going to take long for her to return home.

Part of her was certain the right thing to do was wait outside for Elsa’s return, but the cold wind was becoming harder to tolerate by the minute. Remembering Elsa practically never closed her door. Anna tried to open it, and to her delight, the door was unlocked. She murmured a thank you to Elsa’s questionable habits and entered the place. 

She closed the door behind her, and turned on the light. She shrieked in fear startled by Elsa who was, to her surprise, sitting in the living room just a few metres from the door.   

"Hi," said Anna once she had been able to calm her racing heart down. "I’m sorry I let myself in. But I thought you weren’t home and I know-" Anna stopped in her tracks when she noticed Elsa was not responding. Instead, she was looking down at a piece of paper in her hand. And what was more worrisome, she was crying. It was only then, Anna realised she hadn’t even noticed her presence. "Elsa?" she said louder, trying to call her attention. 

"Anna…" said Elsa, when she became aware of her surroundings. She tried in vain to get herself together, leaving the paper on the coffee table, and drying her tears. "I didn't hear you knock."

"Elsa are you okay?" 

"It's not important," she lied, but her voiced cracked betraying her words.

Anna rushed to her side and sat down next to her. "It must be if it makes you cry like this. What's going on?”

She whimpered and hugged herself. Not being able to answer Anna’s question.

“Elsa, please, tell me what’s wrong. You can trust me.”

Anna watched Elsa extend her hand and pick up one of the documents scattered on the coffee table. Soon handing it to Anna. “I found this inside one of my composition books.”

“What is this?"

“I don't understand half the things it says-” A sob interrupted Elsa, and she took a shuddering breath before continuing. “It's about me.”

Still not comprehending what the document was about and where it came from, Anna asked, "where did you get that composition book?"

"Gerda, she- she gave it to me." Once again, Elsa tried to control her emotions, but the more she tried to stop crying the harder it was to control her powers; and she already knew the temperature was colder than it should be inside the house. Not wanting to make things more complicated, she opted to let her tears fall, focusing only on keeping the ice at bay. 

Noticing how distressed Elsa was, Anna thought it was best to try and help her calm down before reading the paper in her hand. “Elsa, don’t jump to conclusions, okay? Even if it's about you, it doesn't mean it's something bad.”

“It- It’s about a legal precedi- precee-” she made an effort to remember the word, but it was difficult to focus. All she could think about was Kai, his stupid broken promise, and the pain she felt. 

“Proceeding?” tried to guess Anna. Hoping she was mistaken. Elsa’s life, and especially her childhood, was still a whole mystery to Anna; but deep down she hoped it hadn’t been so terrible there was the need to open a legal proceeding.

“Yes," said Elsa when she heard the right word. "What is that?” Her shoulders shook, as she tried in vain to even her breathing. “It means there will be a trial, doesn't it?”

“Maybe… What does it say?” The last thing she wanted was to lie to Elsa at that moment. She needed all the information she could possibly get. 

“I don't know! I don't know these words,” Elsa complained, not before cursing in silence her ignorance once again. She hated feeling so useless. New fresh tears started to fall and she hunched forward, trying to stop the storm inside. 

“Elsa, calm down.” Anna rubbed her hand on her back, trying hard to ignore how cold she felt to the touch. “Do you want me to read it for you?”

It felt strange for Anna to be in that situation. Although she had been teaching Elsa for the past three months, the older girl had never shown how much not understanding things affected her. She asked questions whenever she didn’t know something, and she showed a positive attitude towards new things. But this time, Anna could see she was still learning and struggling to comprehend multiple things; she could only imagine how difficult the vocabulary used in a legal document was for her. It pained Anna to see her crying out of frustration and possibly fear for what she didn't understand. 

Thinking it was best to find out what was going on, Anna began reading. Elsa was still distressed, but she knew there was no way she could help her if she didn’t make sense of what that paper said.

The first few lines where Kai simply introducing himself to someone and requesting his assistance. She continued reading until he began to describe a convicted man's current situation, and what he wanted to achieve by opening a new case against this person. The man's name was Weselton.

Anna read the name of the man once again, and tried to remember why it sounded so familiar. After a few minutes, she remembered her father yelling the man's name at the table the night the truth about Elsa came to light. And if she was not mistaken, her mother had mentioned his name too. He was the owner of the clinic where they had left Elsa all those years ago. Once she remembered, Anna became all the more interested to know what that document was about, and she was thankful Elsa trusted her enough to let her read it for her. 

For a few minutes, the only thing that could be heard in the cottage was Elsa's laboured breathing as she tried to calm down and restraint her powers, while Anna read and reread the document in silence.

To Anna’s surprise, Elsa had been correct, in the document Kai detailed the main reasons to raise charges against Weselton. Kai, with the endorsement of several police officers, was elevating a petition to a certain prosecutor. He was requesting his help to reopen Elsa’s case against the doctor. He detailed compromising evidence against the man, and even mentioned the cooperation of Elsa's biological parents on the case.

At first, she couldn't believe what she was reading. The more she tried to make sense of the fact her parents were cooperating with Kai’s petition, the more difficult it was to understand. She had no idea how her parents had been able to agree to something like that. Especially since they hadn't even had the the chance to meet Elsa properly. But her mother's words resonated in her head. Just days before Idunn had said she knew Elsa didn't want anything to do with them. There was no way her mother could be so certain about that, unless… Unless they had been meeting with the Bjorgmans all that time. 

The sudden realisation made Anna's blood boil. They had kept yet another secret from her, and once again their actions were going to have a terrible repercussion in Elsa’s life. 

She couldn't believe her parents actions. Nonetheless, she was more stunned to find out Kai was meeting with her parents without Elsa’s consent.

"Kai wants me to speak in court, doesn't he?" Elsa’s hoarse voice interrupted her train of thoughts.

"I'm not sure." In his petition Kai made emphasis on her parents, but he never explicitly mentioned Elsa's cooperation. “He doesn’t say. But I don’t want to lie to you, Elsa. He speaks about your legal case here. You may be expected to testify if they agree to this petition... I’m sorry.”

Anna’s confirmation did nothing to help Elsa’s nervousness. On the contrary, it only increased her heart rate at the mere idea of facing a court full of people. She could picture them, waiting for her to talk about her past, to relive a childhood she wanted to forget; waiting for her to make a mistake so they could justify locking her again in a clinic to be studied, while Weselton walked away. 

Noticing she was losing control of her emotions, Elsa did her best to control her body. But her breathing was becoming more and more difficult, and containing her powers was becoming painful. 

At first Anna thought giving her some time to process things on her own was for the best, but her idea suddenly changed when Elsa began hyperventilating. Anna knew she had to do something - help her somehow. She had read about anxieties attacks and she was sure Elsa was having one at that moment. 

She ignored the cold feeling she felt when her hand touched Elsa’s back again, and said, “Elsa, please, try to calm down. Maybe your father just wants to find a solution to whatever happened to you in the past. You haven't talked to him yet.”

It was clear Elsa wasn’t listening to her. She was once again hunching forward, her arms around her torso as if she was in unbearable pain. Not really knowing if her words were getting through, she leaned in closer and tried reasoning with her again. “Elsa breathe, please. Try to focus on-” 

It shocked Anna to see Elsa stand up all and dash to the bathroom before she could finish what she was saying. “Elsa?!” she asked with worry.

Anna ran after her and entered the bathroom, her eyes narrowing with concern when she saw Elsa’s deplorable state. She was leaning over the toilet, retching, even after having emptied her stomach.

“Elsa, are you okay?” She approached her sister and held her hair as she caressed her back, trying in vain to offer some comfort.

They stayed on the bathroom floor after Elsa was able to regain some control over her body. She soon begged Anna to put some distance between them since she still couldn’t trust her powers.

After some minutes, Anna saw Elsa stand up and walk to the sink. It was unsettling to see how much her legs were trembling, yet Anna didn't approach her. She noticed Elsa was following certain steps meticulously, and she thought it was best to respect her wishes and give her some space. Something told Anna that was not the first time Elsa was enduring a nervous breakdown.

Elsa let the tap running as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was only able to wash her face a couple of times, before a layer of frost covered the sink; making it impossible for her to continue. Her fist trembled with the intent of punching the frozen water, but she thought better of it and simply left the bathroom.

Anna stayed on the bathroom floor, not being able to tear her gaze away from the frozen sink. Only a couple of days before, she had seen Elsa use and enjoy her powers at will, and now she was shocked to see them manifest without her consent. 

Coming out of her stupor, she left the bathroom and soon found Elsa sitting in the middle of her bed. Arms hugging her knees tightly against her chest. She seemed more calmed but it was obvious she was still overthinking things; and Anna was certain that if she kept doing it, anxiety was going to take over her body once again.

Trusting Elsa to be alone for a minute, she went to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. Anna had noticed the frustration on her face when the water froze in the sink.

“Drink,” offered Anna when she entered the bedroom. She made an effort not to pay attention to the snowflakes that were gently falling around Elsa, covering the mattress in white powder. “It’ll help you feel better.”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” said Elsa after she had emptied her glass of water. She didn't dare look at Anna in the eye though. She had been so close to lose control, and even if she had been able to restraint her powers just in time, the idea of showing her worst to Anna once again was embarrassing.

“No, no. Don’t apologise. You did nothing wrong.” Anna tentatively put her hand over Elsa's. Contrary to what she expected, Elsa didn't recoil nor beg to be left alone. “Are you feeling better?”

Elsa nodded, but she didn't say anything. Her mind was still busy worrying about the document she had found and the implications of it.

"Has this happened before?" wondered Anna.

"A couple of times." Her answer was barely audible. "When suppressing my powers becomes too much, and my anxiety gets the best of me."

Anna stayed silent, feeling there was nothing she could say to help Elsa at that moment. She desperately wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay, but she knew it was a lie. 

Elsa on the other hand, exhausted after her mental breakdown, tried to get comfortable in bed; knowing it was a matter of time before she lost consciousness. She rested her head on the pillow and looked at Anna sitting next to her. A small smile appeared on her face, thankful for the girl to be by her side.

Interrupting the heavy silence, Elsa ventured say what was in her mind. "Kai knows I want to bury my past and move on… It pains me to think he’s doing this, even after he promised he wouldn’t.”

“I don’t justify what he’s doing, but maybe he’s only trying to help,” offered Anna, feeling more comfortable now that Elsa was the one starting conversation.

“There’s no guarantee they’ll find Weselton guilty. For all I know I may be the only one affected by all this.” Her voice was weak and muffled. She could feel her body begging for some rest, even if her mind was still troubled with Kai betraying her trust and everything that could happen in the future.

Anna stayed silent for a few minutes, looking into space. There was nothing she wanted more than to help Elsa, but there was little she could do in her situation. How could she offer some comforting words if she had no idea what Kai was talking about in his petition? How could she stand by Elsa’s side if she didn’t know what had happened to her in the past? What if Kai was truly doing the best thing for her, and Elsa’s fear was too much to let her see that?

Finally making up her mind to what she needed to do, Anna found the courage and said, “Elsa, I can see how hard this is for you. And I want you to know I'm here to help in anything you need. But I can't do that if I don't let me in.” She took a deep breath and asked, “what did Weselton do? What happened to you?”

When Elsa didn’t answer, Anna turned to look at her. And to her surprise, she found her sound asleep. It was only then, she noticed the dark bags under her eyes and how truly tired she looked. Anna half-smiled and soon found a blanket for her - she guessed the truth about the past could wait yet another night.

Noticing it was already past midnight, she climbed into bed next to her sister. Her mind was still processing everything that had happened, and she hoped to sleep for at least a few hours.

--

Big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review and share this story. You’re amazing!

Tagging: @swimmingnewsie @melody-fox, @kristoffxannafanatic, @kristannafictionals, @neptrabbit, @skneez, @ellacarter13, @wondering-in-life, @who-i-am-8, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @815-allisnotlost, @khartx, @joannevixxon, @betweenthedreams, @lilrann, @burbobah, @rileysfs, @zutonium, @earlvessalius, @blood-jewel, @disneydreamer8901, @the-sky-is-awake, @disneyfan103, @the-magic-one-is-you, @anamaria8garcia, @welovefrozenfanfiction, @bigfrozenfan-archive, @bigfrozenfan, @frozen-snips  @deisymendoza  @zackhaikal123 @cornstarch @roostercrowedatmidnight @wandering-bard-from-the-id, @showurselfelsa @fuzzyelsalikeiduna @when-dawn-arrives​ @drafteedragon​ @snowycrocus​ @tare8chan​ @localarendellian​ @wabitham​ @roostercrowedatmidnight​ @aries1708 @tare8chan, @just-your-local-history-nerd, @dontrunintofirexoxo @daphmckinnon @poketin @bruni-is-love @luna-and-mars, @anotherpersondrawing

Wish you guys the best. Stay safe!

[monkey-network]

Who is Best Girl in Konosuba?

Welcome back, fellow weebs, to Media & Entertainment Developers Essentials Lessons Book. Today on MEDELB, we’re discussing the question that existed since one of the most disastrous years in the 21st century, 2017. A question that dives into one the greatest anime of all time. Yes, even better than Dragon Ball Z, Cowboy Bebop, and Steven Universe. I am talking about KonoSuba: God's Blessing on this Wonderful World! Today we’re discussing: who is best girl? Aqua? Darkness? Megumin? Your father?

Now it’s important to know that KonoSuba is genius because it supports judicial simplication, a professional term that I can break down for you. Judicational Sampling is the idea that a free society does not impinge on the actual taxing benefits of localized source banks. KonoSuba is genius because it made a lot of money... to make more KonoSuba. It is not Disney, whom is the greatest bottom in the Hollywood industry, but in truth I wouldn’t want it to be. Sometimes, genius is fine where it is and you shouldn’t question it. There are people who question why KonoSuba originated as a light novel, and those people are to be shunned because they also believe Harry Potter is worth reading, straight people are bad, and that ranch dressing is good on pizza. You know, the alt-right and we have enough problems on our hands as it is. And as the great Joe Biden once said,

But today’s focus will be on discussing on who is best girl and how that affects our society. And if you are one of the people unaware of this discussion, then perhaps you should realize that any comments you have contradict themselves and function as your self-righteous wannabe soapbox. In short, you’re acting like a su crit, so please read history. Because ultimately, I am a proud KonoSuba kinnie and member of the intellectual anime community founded by the General Rebecca Sugar. I would appreciate it if you would recognize the context and respect. It. Because ultimately again, I sent you all a respectful anon about this earlier today which you ignore and this sounds, smell, looks, feels, tastes... like Racism. But back to KonoSuba, let us discuss Megumin.

Now, Megumin is a good person. She can create explosions which are big.... explosions, this represents her pride. She wears red which is the color of your blood, so that could mean satanic blood pacts. Megumin represents the resolve in critical deductive intelligent smart reasoning where blind subservience has been... eradicated. But what is blind, subservience? For a simple understanding, think of it as the cooked Molotov of slice of life shows or some other perceptively anodyne prosaic internationalized statement.

Overall, Megumin is a short person so choosing her as best girl is pedophilia and if you try to tell me otherwise, you are a nazi troll and deserve the chamber. And if you agree with me, don’t speak if you’re Afro-American like myself. Because this is just a cartoon for kids and you’re complaining too much about it. Or am I?

Next, we have Darkness, which is a force parallel to light and is also used in the form of attacks in the Kingdom Hearts universe. Those who follow the path of Darkness will usually gain untold power at the expense of something of their former selves, so this naturally explains why she is an explicit masochist. Then again, her real name is Lalatina Dustiness Ford which explains a lot more. We continue asking who she is, and what she is, but nobody is asking how Darkness is. Because looking like the poster child for Aryan superiority with her blonde hair and blue eyes, she isn’t capable of being best girl because that would mean the guillotine for you and I love you too much to not let that happen. She is overall the better character for inventing good things like the dominatrix, but she cannot be best girl because she is a good character and supports capitalism. I too support capitalism but I hate people who think capitalism is alright, if that makes sense.

Aqua is a better contender for best girl because I was fortunate enough to see less porn of her. Kazuma notably has called her worthless, but Kazuma is what internet users would call an braincel. He played video games, so obviously he isn’t one to be speaking on value. Aqua was able to survive getting vored by a frog multiple times, so clearly she is more cunning than the average E-girl. Aqua is able to make the most of her situation and entertain people with watersports.... and tricks. Kingdoms Hearts wishes it had a character named Aqua as cool as this one, but then again, you’d have to wait 4 more years for KH4 so what life would you have? She is mostly blue, which is a color, and I prefer it when anime has color. If it doesn’t, it’s racist. As the wise Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez once said this last November, 

This Disproves Objective Analysis.

She represents the element of the holy flood thesis joining the narrative tripling in subsequent disagreement that there any factual basis to the truth that Kazuma is wrong but because there’s simple authentic observation there is no objective truth. Plus she cries a lot, and if there’s anything I learned from Steven Universe, it’s that if you cry good enough, you can topple entire totalitarian empires. Except for General Rebecca Sugar, because she can smell your fear and absorb it accordingly. She is basically the Mother Teresa of animation. Again, great contender. But we have to consider the others so let’s move on.

Next, we have Wiz. 

...

...

Next, we have Sylvia from their first and latest movie. It’s as they say, if it is new, it is better. I believe Sylvia is more than the sum of their parts, they are caring and charismatic and can turn into a powerful creature. None of the other characters can turn into a powerful creature, and that is why they possess internalized misogyny. The slimy veneer of quasi empiricism can be a very disgusting tool for nefariously slipping in one’s own rotten viewpoint or value. One that you know might otherwise be c̷h̵a̷l̸l̸e̴n̴g̴e̸d̴ ̵a̸s̴ ̸r̵i̷t̸u̵a̷l̵i̴s̵t̷i̴c̵a̷l̶l̵y̶ ̶s̷u̸p̸e̸r̶l̴a̷t̴i̶v̵e̸ ̵o̶r̸ ̷p̶e̵r̵h̷a̵p̵s̵ ̷y̵o̴u̸ ̸t̵h̴i̴n̸k̵ ̷t̴h̶a̶t̶ ̶w̷͍͍̠͉͚̦̦͛̔̓͗̏ā̵̛̬̜̂͋ṙ̸̨̐̌̈̅ ̸̦͔̣̮͔͋̊̑̕i̷̛͎̽̅́͑s̴̠̩̟̝͙̍̏̀͌̑̕ ̷͚͔̦̜̜͊̾̽͊͂j̸̡̨̣̙̮̓͘ų̵̣͚̹̱̐͌̎̑̈̎̆s̶̢͚̺͉̰͂̄̉̾͑ț̵̤̭͔̲̲̮̀͒̏̐̓ ̵̡̙̟̖͐́͋͝p̷̙̳̣̫͍̬͗̽͒̀e̸̻̯̽̆̇́͑͒a̵̡̞̣̫̫̯̰̿͛̅̄̅͂c̷̀͐̊͗͝ͅē̵̠͕̫̙ ̶̻̼̳͑̓̈́̿͐ŵ̷̼̝̣͇̞̞̺̍͋i̸̠͓̪̣̜͍̘͊͂̀̄t̸̟̣͉̼͑̒͜h̵̥̗̲̩̑̏́͜ ̵̡̠͉̝̾̆̌̇͐e̷̢̨̼̺͖̒̈́̃̃̆x̸̟̟͂́̄̍͛́̄t̴͖̣̼̫͇͐͋̆̽̎̚r̷͎̙̯͈͉̲̚a̵̩͎̥̺̮͂̀̃̚ ̸̠̜̣̥̜͍̠̌ṡ̴̢̡̐̽̅̃̇ͅt̴̖̣̹͙̙̼̟̔̐̚͝͝ĕ̵͔͍̤̼̂͌̐̑p̸̡̹̪̻͔̬͕̃̚s̸̫̙̈͛̉̋̉͝ ̶͔͚̽͝y̸̨̘͎̠͕̺̽̉̃o̶̜̥̺͔͑̏ͅu̵̓͜ ̴̨̦͉̀̊͊̓̌̃f̶̢̮̱̳̖̟̼̰͒̊̈͜i̸̯̼̫̩͚̇̉l̸̢̢̯̗̠̪̹͈͎͚̬̭̮̣̬̿̈́̍͘t̸͕͕̮̻̭̰̬͎̻̰̬̙̟̀́̍̋h̷̡̡͎͙̘̩̞̤̰̳͖͙̺͈̅̓͆ͅy̴̡̢̳̤̮̘̻͚̲̪̳̭̗̙͈̽́̔̄̓͊̅̍̓͗͑̓̈̿͝,̵̛͙͚̒͐̍̅̓͗͌̕ ̷̢̡͚̮̜͚͈̖̥̳̹̦̙͈̄́́͛̈́̈́ͅt̸̛̼̯̯̠̰͓̩͍̺̊̽̔͂͑̕ë̵̢̖͕̰͕̜̹̰̫͙̣̩͈́͐͐̿̆̽͌̓̀͐̊̑̀̆͗̕͜ͅͅs̴̢̡̜̯̀͋͛͒͐̌̓̕t̸̠̳̱̙̃̓̽̈̔͗̏̋̓̈̏ ̷̧̧̤͉̦̲̜͔̫̤̯́̽͊̕̚t̸̘̲̼̜̱̿̿͑̽́̈́͋̔͘u̶͍̞̜͛͜b̸̛̯̙̼̜͙̏̓̄̽͆̏͘͝ẹ̷̛̉̑̂ ̵̡̡̞͓̱̤̞̫͛̎̆͘͝b̸̡̡̟̫̱́̔̓̋͗̃̊ǫ̶͍͕̼̥̳͕͖̥͈̼̳̎̒͋ͅŕ̶̢̨̧̛̞̝̰̠͍̥̓͛͗͛̃̏̂ņ̷͔̞̜̟̱̮͍͎̹̬̠̰̳̌͠͝,̸̙͕͓̟̥̜͛ ̶̛͓͊̉̑̍̀̿̽̅̓̂͝͝a̷̧͕͎̜̮̟͚̮̦̜̝̺̿̈́̍̀͂̔͝ņ̴̛̰̮̟̤̭̘̲̠̹̲̟̎̉͂̃̈́̅̂͒͑͠͝ͅͅṱ̶̛̥̘̬̖̳̤͈̟̫̻̘̻̅́̿̓͂̒͂̓̏̐̔̈́̊̊͜į̷̧̱͚̱͉̲̺̬͕̙̀̅̔̆-̷̫͈̳̩͔̠͕͖̹̲̓͊̂̅̈́̔̈́̔̍̎̒̇͌́̃͘͜͜S̶̘̻̱͖̗̠̩̥̝̺̻͕̪̯̊͒͆̽͐́̀͠͝ͅJ̸̨̝̲̬͕͈̘̞̠̱͖̮̒͑̈́̎̃̄̍̃̚͘̚͝ͅͅẂ̸̡̖͉̞͍̙̲͈͈̜̼̪̯̱͇͉̋́͋̎́͗̿̋̈́͂̈́̽̉̚ ̴̣͓̼̟̼̬̙̜͈̰̼̼̖̣̆̅̋̽̕͝͠C̷̙͉̭̜̭̞̝̲̳̰̊̓̃͝E̵̤̟̮͠N̵̨̢̼̱̺̭̦̟̳̪̻̘̿͛̀͜ͅT̸̹͚̆͆͐̊̀̏͑̓̈͝ͅR̸̛̮̲͇̼̻͇̹̙̞̤͎̗̾̊̈́͊͗̋͑̅̿̓̐̔̔͝͝ͅI̵̧̩͕̼̱͚͈̻͎̮̝̖̰̐̑͛̎̂̃̇̇̀̈́́̃̕͠S̶̞̘͔̈́̒̑͒́T!! But, Sylvia is dead, so as much as I wanted to consider, they can’t be best girl so we must move on. 

Next we have Yunyun. It is said that she “forms a rivalry with Megumin as an excuse to create a friendship.” Now we could call her a beta cuckquean, but that would imply you have a life outside a human being. As our current president once said, 

I’m never a Trump supporter myself, but this is wisdom I can kinda get behind regardless. Sure he ghost wrote this, but not all wisdom comes from the mouth. However, Yunyun represents the normalcy of KonoSuba, and as such could be a nice change of pace for those too dependent on the definitive waifu. She has big jiggly boobs, sure, but have you ever considered that her boobs have, personality? A lot of otakus and bronies have not been understanding this as of late, as I feel we’ve overlooked something far more important: Tactile anime feel. We can stare at breasts all we wish, but how realistic are her proportions? You can say it’s fiction all you want, and you’d be right, but if I’m envious that the fiction women have better boobs than mine, my opinion is now better than yours. What I’m getting at is that Yunyun is like a ghost, you try to find her, you search for them, and you look for them, and you try to find them, but you can’t find them, thus they are empty handed.

The last contender is Kazuma, who is the villain of KonoSuba because he doesn’t act like the typical isekai protagonist. He isn’t like Kirito from SAO who was almost involved in incest or Sonic the Hedgehog who believed stalking people is okay as long as you’re alone. As Luigi Mario once said, “It is common, but not too common.” He spits in the face of a critically stupid people because he believes in true gender equality. Those who don’t believe in this philosophy are mostly women, and that’s okay. He must clearly be best girl because he is asserted with the phrase “Give and take”. Most people complain about 11 hour Youtube videos, but they can hardly spend three hours overthrowing their bastardizing governments. Which is why Ligma is not running in the 2020 presidential election, because you keep putting your time in the wrong cubby hole. KonoSuba is a complicated anime, and Kazuma is the crux of that complication. So the sooner you can understand Kazuma, the more you’ll understand KonoSuba; that is why he’s considerably best girl. Otherwise, go play World of Warcraft like the mainstream loving psuedo-intellectual toesucking simp that you are.

To conclude, KonoSuba has a lot to think about for a smart people. Choosing best girl is not about finding your interest, it’s about avoiding callout culture because you have shit taste. If there’s enough controversy, I avoid it unless it can benefit me in the long and short term. Clearly Aqua is the choice for when you yourself have little to prove, Yunyun understandably for when you have nothing to gain, Kazuma for when you want to feel better about yourself. In any case, if you are not horny on main, you are probably the reason Trump got elected because you are yourself sexually fascistic. Sorry, I don’t make the rules and ergo this post was never made for you. Real, in-depth nitty gritty perspective, prescriptive criteria for denationalization context barriers are still alive on the internet. Ultimately, we must decide on whether or not this was all worth it. Simplicity is hard to strive for, but that is why people only use five percent of another’s argument. Or else we’re fans of the She-ra reboot, always over-complicating the idea that kinship will save the day in the end and thinking the creator didn’t copy the great works of famous Shark Tale actor Martin Scorsese. You know? Tankies. I myself have made a long post expressing this complicated issue, but then again, I am a chronophobe. I fear time and I would appreciate if you wouldn’t timeshame me, you potential ablest. So in truth, you choose who is best girl because you are valid. Not more than I but still.

Thank you for reading my post. If you liked this essay, please comment. It’s free. If you liked my paypal, please donate. It’s free. Sharing this would be highly appreciated. It’s free. Dollar Dash Share is offering a free shaving earbud for the first ten sign ups when you use the promo code, ‘MNKY’. Make sure to try out their Curiosity streaming service and use the 5000 silver to unlock new warriors or maps. Thank you for reading............ KonoSuba.

[spicyfloaty]

Give & Take | Chapter 7

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 3.4k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven: This You?

“Too slow.”

Ochako’s pen comes to a screeching halt upon hearing the alarm from Bakugo’s phone, making a tiny smudge beside the halfway done solution scrawled on her notebook. Her fingers tighten around her pen, teeth chewing the inside of her cheek in frustration. I didn’t even get to finish.

“You already screwed it up over here,” Bakugo says gruffly, pointing to the beginning lines of her solution, “and here.” He drags his fingers down to the second and third lines. A pair of stern eyes meet hers and their message is as clear as day, Get your shit together, dumbass.

He takes her notebook and writes down another problem from the black notebook he’s been copying questions from, the same one she saw beside his sleeping head just a few days ago. She had never brought it up again since she knew this would only make him feel more embarrassed, but the sight of it still sends shockwaves of warmth all throughout her body.

Bakugo slides the notebook back to her, Ochako’s eyes quickly scan the new problem beneath her before giving the signal, “Go.” The timer starts as soon as her pen lands on the page.

They had been going over questions back to back for the past hour, maybe even more. She had been getting most of the answers right for the past few sessions, but Bakugo decided to take it up a notch by timing her while she solved for them. As nerve wracking as the new challenge may be, it was useful for making sure she answered every single item on Ectoplasm’s test despite the time limit he’ll be setting for it.

Ochako still had a ways to go in order to solve a problem correctly under the weight of this new kind of pressure, if anything, she still had a lot of work to do to be able to completely finish writing her solutions down before Bakugo’s phone starts wailing to remind her that she had blew it once again.

She was on the fifth line of her solution when she heard the telltale ring of failure resounding from the phone on Bakugo’s side of the desk. Just as how the questions had become exceedingly harder by the minute, so was the urge to send his phone flying to the other side of the room had become harder to resist. She knew better than to do that, of course, Bakugo had already looked upset enough as it is with her performance so far, she didn’t need to add a broken phone to the growing list of things he could yell at her about.

Bakugo silences the alarm, leaning forward to check her work, unfinished work to be more precise. He had always been this close whenever he went over her work, the scent of his shampoo suddenly becoming stronger as she waited for his judgement. His eyebrows furrow and his lips twist to a frown, “Wrong,” he huffs, “and incomplete.”

Her hand slides past her temple, making its way to her hair, raking through its soft locks in hopes of finding comfort in each strand or better yet, to release the tension and pressure building up inside her, “Give me the next one.” She says, a hint of irritation coating her words.

This time, the next question he writes down for her seemed easier to figure out compared to the previous ones. The timer starts the second she starts writing, every single cell in her body was hell bent on answering this problem as fast as she could and there might as well be smoke coming from the page with the speed she was going at. The alarm sounds and a drop of sweat falls on the last digits of her answer as she finally completes the solution.

Bakugo leaned over once more and Ochako had to forcefully shut down all thoughts about what kind of hair products he used and focused on the building anticipation in the pit of her stomach, “Did you even read the question?” He growls, crossing several parts of her solution in red ink. Confusion wrinkles her face as she checks the question on the top of the page, only for her eyes to grow two times its size upon realizing her mistake, “Ugh! I read it wrong!”

She flops herself over her desk in surrender, a muffled sound of frustration escaping her lips, “What the hell is wrong with you today?” She hears him ask. She knew the answer to that just as much as he did.

“I give up,” she exhales, her distorted admission of defeat sends her hot breath towards the desk and back to her face. Ochako hears another alarm sound but this time it was coming from her own phone, signaling the end of another session, “You can go now.” She mutters, expecting to hear the sound of footsteps rushing out the door just like it’s always been.

Instead she hears, “No.”

She lifts her head from her desk, the confused look on her face bounces off of the serious one on his, “What do you mean, no?” She asks as if Bakugo had refused to save a civilian from a burning building. She had been used to him contradicting most of what she said almost all the time, but all the times he had consistently left the room the moment her phone’s alarm went off almost made it into a solid fact, a routine at least.

“Your dumbass isn’t going anywhere until you get one right.” He orders. The first thing that passes through her head was the fact that it was Bakugo who refused to go anywhere, not her. The second thought was a big fat question mark on why he was choosing to stay this time around when he never failed to bolt out the classroom whenever their previous sessions would come to an end.

The low grumble of her belly helps her remember why these sessions never go beyond the two hours allotted for them, “I have to eat, Bakugo.” Ochako points out, she’d usually be pigging out the moment she gets back to the dorms.

Bakugo slings his bag over his shoulders and raises an eyebrow at her, “We’ll go to Lunch Rush.” Her ears perk up at the sound of the word we, “We?”

“Who the fuck else is going to check your answers, idiot?” He barks as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’ll be writing while I eat?” She asks, surely she’d at least be given the time to fill her stomach first.

An impatient look looms over Bakugo’s face, “You have two hands, don’t you?” He turns away and starts to make his way towards the door, “Now stop asking questions, pack your shit, and hurry the hell up.”

Ochako did not have to be told twice for her to haul herself outside the classroom. The journey to the cafeteria was a quiet one and a weird feeling settled inside her at the strange situation she found herself in, walking behind Bakugo after school hours. To Lunch Rush. To eat. Together.

They finally arrive at the cafeteria and thankfully, there were only a few people in sight, a few unfamiliar faces of students and a couple of teachers on their laptops. The place was relatively deserted. Bakugo stops beside an empty table and turns to her, “Sit.” Ochako sets her things down onto the vacant seat and plops herself beside them, “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog.” She barked, shooting him a dirty look. He rolls his eyes and gestures to the pile of stuff beside her, “Less yapping, more reading.” He bites.

She begrudgingly takes out her textbook and starts rereading the topic they were going over just a while ago, “Good girl.” He teases, going along with that dog bit. Another shit eating grin plasters itself on his dumb face before he walks away, which was a good thing because if he had stayed a second longer, she would have pulled a Zuckerberg and smacked Bakugo’s face with all four hundred pages of her book.

Fantasies of thwacking Bakugo with her textbook along with her rereading said textbook were interrupted by the tray of food suddenly descending in front of her, its savory smell invading her nostrils and amplifying the growl of her stomach ten fold. Ochako quickly reaches for her wallet while Bakugo sets his tray down in front of him as he takes his seat across from her.

“Keep that shit to yourself.” He snaps, eyes swiftly darting to the hand making its way to her pockets.

“Oh, come on.” She whines. Ochako understood that paying for both meals was a guy thing, but weren’t those only done on stuff like dates or something like that?

Another impatient glare targets her, “Pay me back by getting your shit together.” He fires back, pointing to her textbook.

She was about to insist further, but seeing the look of finality scorning his face, there was probably no other hope in convincing him otherwise. With one final sigh, she opens her notebook and readies her pen on one hand while holding a spoon with the other.

“The hell are you doing?” He asks.

“I thought you said I’d be writing while eating?” She retorts. He says I’ve got two hands for this, right? I’m just doing as I’m told.

“I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to take that seriously.” He scoffs, “Now eat, dumbass.”

It’s Ochako’s turn to roll her eyes at this. She sets her pen down and places her full attention on the hot meal in front of her, picking up her fork before glancing at Bakugo’s tray. She was alone with a guy who insisted on paying for both their meals. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that this was a date, but she knew better so she was quick to dismiss the thought.

“Quit staring at my food, round face.” He barks, emphasizing the nickname to paint her as some kind of glutton. Ochako shoots him one last glare before digging in, she was a few bites in before Bakugo started to eat his own food. She notices his hardened expression slip into a calmer one as he ate with such delicacy, his chopsticks methodically removing the bones in his fish, carefully picking apart the meat as he brings each piece to his mouth.

Ochako couldn’t help but stare at him, she was stunned by the precision in each of his movements and the way he was making it all look so easy made it out to be as if he had done this all his life. She wasn’t exactly expecting him to eat like some sort of barbarian, no, but not just anyone could eat fish so cleanly, let alone with chopsticks.

Her prolonged staring and the amazed look on her face doesn’t go unnoticed, “What are you looking at?” He sneers, chopsticks stopping midway to his lips.

“I’ve never seen anyone my age eat fish like that before.” She explains, “My mom tried to teach me when I was little, but I couldn’t bear to sit through the complicated process.”

Bakugo’s eyebrows furrow at her story, “It’s not that hard.” He counters.

“I gave up after the third helping of fish.” She smiles, recalling the memory. Handling chopsticks with such care for her to cleanly debone the entire fish before she ate was not a routine she could commit to before each meal.

Bakugo lowers the chopsticks down to his plate before his lips twist to a scowl, “There you go again with that shit.”

Ochako’s eyebrows knit together in total confusion, “What?” She didn’t recall saying or doing anything to piss him off, but then again almost anything and everything could piss Bakugo off.

“Giving up.” He points out, the features of his face still contorted with a mix of confusion and annoyance, “Stop it.”

The gears in her head slowly process this and the answer of a question in the back of her head dawns on her, “Is that why you stayed?” She asks, putting two and two together. Was all of this just his own way of telling her not to give up on herself?

“Tch, never pegged you as a quitter,” Bakugo looks away, “it pissed me off finding out that all it took to make you back down was a simple fucking math problem.”

“It wasn’t simple.” She immediately fires back without missing a beat.

“To you.” He replies as a matter of factly.

“Well, of course it would be easy for you,” she reasons, “you made them.” It was only after she saw his look of surprise and the slight touch of pink dusting Bakugo’s cheeks, that she realized her mistake. Ah crap, I shouldn’t have brought that up.

Bakugo’s eyes focus on his food, “Whatever,” he mutters, picking up his chopsticks, “All I’m saying is giving up doesn’t suit you, idiot.” He punctuates his sentence by taking a careful bite of his fish.

Ochako’s gaze also finds their way to her meal, cheeks also flushing at his comment. She couldn’t help but feel somewhat giddy at the fact that Bakugo believed in her abilities to a point where he chose to stay and help her push past her own doubts. She brings her spoon to her mouth before it could break into a wide smile.

A few quiet minutes pass and despite Bakugo being the one with the slower, more careful technique in eating, he finishes first, “Can you eat any slower?” He drones impatiently.

“Shut up.” She says in a very Bakugo-like fashion. Her sentiment didn’t sound like coherent words, though, since it was muffled by the chunks of food she was shoving into her mouth at an alarming rate. He wanted her to eat faster? Then she was going to deliver.

“Disgusting.” He mumbles, earning him another glare from her.

Ochako finally finishes her food, she then turns to her side to fish out the notebook and pen she had put away a while ago, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Clean that shit on your face first.” Bakugo points to her face, another look of disgust aimed straight at her. She raises an eyebrow, pointing to her right cheek, “Here?”

His eyebrows furrow further, “Other side.” He presses on, a twinge of annoyance lacing his voice.

She brings her fingers to her left cheek, attempting to wipe away the stain she couldn’t see, “There?” Bakugo makes another sound of frustration and before she could grab her phone to check for herself he leans over and brushes his thumb over the corner of her lip. It was quick, a brief contact of skin, but it was enough for her to shut up.

“You eat like a pig.” He says flatly. This comment would have elicited a snarky comeback from her but like she said, it shut her up.

Bakugo grabs her notebook and begins to write a question for her, he slides it back towards her and sets up the timer on his phone, “Ready to get your shit together, round face?”

Ochako tears her attention away from the heat of the skin on her lip and reads over the new problem, “Go.”

She focuses with all her might in writing her solution just in time before the alarm sounds, making sure to not be careless this time around. Ochako had been meaning to score at least 80 percent on that test for Ectoplasm’s class, but after recent events, a particular condition to be more specific, she had been determined to get a hundred. What else was ace that test supposed to mean in Bakugo’s book other than to simply get a perfect score?

Her focus momentarily wavers due to movement from the corner of her eye and faint whispers from their side. Ochako was halfway through the answer when Bakugo’s phone blares that god forsaken alarm, he takes her notebook to check her answers and she turns to her left to see that two first years were whispering amongst themselves and snickering after occasionally looking their way.

“What were you supposed to write?” Bakugo asks, eyes still trained on her work. She shifts her gaze back to him, “44.05” She replies.

“Wrong.” He deadpans as Ochako clicked her tongue in frustration, Focus!

Bakugo hands her another question, but this time, her peripheral vision catches a phone being pointed towards their direction. She whips her head to the side and confirms that one of the two students indeed had their phone out angled towards them.

“You’re never getting one right if you keep looking over there, dumbass.” Bakugo barks, stopping the timer.

Ochako turns to him, “I think they’re taking pictures of us.” She points out in a hushed tone.

“And?” He asks impatiently.

“If they are, that could spread.” She presses on further, but it doesn’t seem to get through to him.

“And?”

A puff of air escapes her nostrils, Why does he not get it? “I don’t know if you can recall, but there’s already enough rumors about us going around.” She reminds him, “This will not help.”

Bakugo’s face scrunches up, “I don’t know if you can recall, but I already asked you who the fuck cares?”

“I do!” She snaps, “Just because you’re okay with it, doesn’t mean I am, okay?.” Ochako turns her attention back to the two students beside them, trying to soften the hardened look she was giving Bakugo a few seconds ago, “Excuse me.” She begins, “Can you please stop taking photos of us? It’s not nice to take pictures of strangers without consent.”

The guy doesn’t put his phone away and the girl sitting beside him speaks up for both of them, “That ain’t in the UA Handbook, lady, we can do whatever we want.” She announces.

The beginning of a response was sitting on the tip of her tongue when Bakugo suddenly stood up from his seat to face them head on, “Put that shit away or I break it along with both of your faces.” He growled, towering over them with fierce animosity.

Both first years let out distinct terrified squeaks before gathering their stuff and scrambling away to the exit. Bakugo returns to his seat, a scowl still etched deep into his face, “Thanks.” She breathes out.

Without making any eye contact, he grabs her notebook and angrily scribbles down the next question. He slides it towards her and waits for her signal, eyes still focused on his phone.

Ochako draws in a deep breath, “Go.”

She feels the strain on her wrist as she wrote the first few lines of math as fast as she could, eyes darting back and forth from her solution to the problem to make sure she didn’t read anything wrong this time. She focuses on the goal at hand, a rematch that would ultimately decide how much she’s improved since last time, a match that would put her abilities to the test once more against the best opponent anyone could ever ask for. Despite these thoughts, she starts to feel more agitated, the pressure of the ticking seconds weighing down on her shoulders, making the pen in her hand feel ten times as heavy.

She feels a flick on her forehead which trips the marathon of thoughts running through her mind, bringing her back safely to the ground. Ochako looked up to see Bakugo’s eyes fixated on hers and with just one word, the heaviness on her chest was gone.

“Relax.”

The clouded skies in her mind clear as her breathing returned to normal, hands slowly and carefully writing the last parts of her solution. She encircles the final answer and gently places her pen beside it. Bakugo goes over her work and grins.

“Fucking finally.”

---

They walk back to the dorms, once again treading in complete silence. Bakugo was ahead of her, both earphone buds lodged in his ears. They were a few feet away from the dorm’s entrance when she tapped his shoulder, “Hey.”

He takes off one of his earphones and lazily looks over to her, “You don’t think that it’ll spread right?” She asks, her thoughts going back to the two first years.

Bakugo rolls his eyes as he opens the door for her, “Will you calm the fuck down, it’s not like we were making out--.”

Both of them stop dead in their tracks when they see the entirety of Class 1A lounging on the couches, watching a movie. Kaminari lifts his head from the back of the couch and grins from ear to ear, “Making out, eh?”

Kirishima smiles at his phone before holding it up for both of them to see. On the screen was a very high definition photo of Bakugo leaning over across the cafeteria’s table to wipe her face, “This you?”

[cloudyyoonji]

Warm Kisses & Scarves.

Han Jisung x Reader.

Summary: Time alone is rare, but Han Jisung Is even rarer.

Genre: Heated Fluff, FLUFF!!!!

________________________________________________________

You knew just by the smirk plastered on Jisung’s face that he was up to no good today.  

From the very moment the members left the dorm, to the second you picked up the book you’d been reading, the boy would make his intentions crystal clear.

“Y/N,” He whines, shaking your body, “I’m bored.”

You don’t even look up from your book, without missing a beat you’re quick to reply. “Hi bored, I’m Y/N.”

He hits your arm, another whine slipping through his lips in a twisted, exasperated smile.

You half smile, briefly meeting his eyes for just a second before looking down at the book.

“Y/N, C’mon.”

Even his words are drawn out in a slow drawl, fingers around your arm to shake your body once again.

“What? I’m reading!” You reply, eyebrows furrowing as you try and figure out where you were up to. “Go make some music.”

Putting his chin on your shoulder, you can feel his eyes plastered on yours. “Why would I leave? You’re here. That’d be mean.”

You barely hear his answer, so immersed in the letters in front of you.

Though it seems to work, because the boy gets up after a few minutes, leaving the room with a small huff. You’re quick to relax into the couch a little more, taking in the world written out in front of you in quick flicks of the eyes; back and forth.

But his chin on your shoulder, breath heavy on your neck, is enough to make butterflies form in your stomach, eyes not even scanning the words anymore.

“Jisung, what are you doing?” “Sh, I’m reading.”

Seconds feel like minutes as they pass, each more agonizing than the last. He made you so nervous, even now, just like this. But the moment is over in a flash. He pulls back, nodding slightly.

“Your book seems interesting.”

He wasn’t stupid. You know he knows what he’s doing, aim being to distract you for some unknown reason. So your eyes follow him as he circles back into the lounge room, hands reaching for the bookmark situated on the coffee table.

Sitting up you sigh at him, watching as his eyes level from his phone to your eyes, a surprised look appearing on his features.

“Well,” You sigh, putting the book down. “You’ve got my attention now, so what is it you want?”

He blinks at you. “Sorry?”

“You heard me Han Jisung.”

He blinks at you again, putting down the phone. “Sorry if I distracted you too much, but don’t worry about it. Continue reading, your book seems really good.”

Eyes narrowing at the boy, you observe him for just another moment before picking up the book, rifling through the pages to get to your marked page.

Your fingers don’t quite touch the cardboard bookmark before the whole book is ripped away from your hands, placed on the coffee table by an eager Jisung, who crashes his lips to yours with a surprising lightness. 
Every detail seems to fall into place with this boy. Bad days became good ones. Tears became smiles. The shaking became laughing. And it was all him, all because of the way he could just grab you and press a kiss to your lips with a kind reassurance that no matter the situation, things could most definitely get better.

You liked being with him like this; near, close.

Despite its lightness, this kiss was intense, needing. It was as warm as the fabric of the couch, as warm as the afternoon sun even.

Moments like this were rare, busy schedules normally being to blame. You barely got time alone together anymore with the promotions and the concerts in your wake. Despite the classic makeout cliche, you two couldn’t deny the fact this was the first time alone you’d had in months.

The sound of the lock turning and the squeak of the door sends you literally flying apart, panting slightly as you try and catch your breaths.

“Cover your eyes Maknae.”

The sound of Chan’s voice, followed by the disgusted noise of Changbin.

“C’ mon guys, we live here too.” Felix teases, walking past the living room to get to his room, a few bags lining his arms.

As the rest of them pile in, chatter high and buzzing in the air, you’re all immersed in conversation, the boys now migrating to the living room couches.

Despite the awkward situation they’d walked in on, surprisingly they’re all calm about the situation, throwing in comments every now and then that makes you blush and Jisung laugh. Like now, as you’re all immersed in conversation over a movie, somehow your names come up in the conversation.

“See, it's like Y/N and Jisung, they’re living their best PG13 life.” “Hyung that makes no sense, Jisung is like 7, and so is Y/N.”

The boy sighs at the maknae, shaking his head. “7+7= 14, Jeongin. They’re a collective age of 14.” “Oh…”

“Yah!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “That makes no sense. You’re confusing the poor boy!” Seungmin puts a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet, which you hit his arm for.

“Minho, Changbin and I are going to get some dinner at the convenience store. Anyone want to come?”

You drag your gaze from Seungmin, landing on Felix - who is shrugging on a coat.

“I’ll come.” You shrug, getting up from your spot next to Jisung.

Chan immediately swoops in and steals the spot, a suspicious smile on his features. “You go Y/N, Jisung and I are going to have a little chat.”  

And with that, you all let out a chorused “oooh’s”, Jisung hiding his face in his hands with an embarrassed smile.

Putting on your padded coat, you flash Jisung a reassuring smile as his features knot with anxiety, fingers fiddling with rings and teeth biting at the skin of his lips.

As Felix opens the door, you feel the cold air hit your face, goosebumps spreading down your arms and legs. It's a cold night, but the quiet walk to the convenience store is somewhat warm in nature, full of laughs and red cheeks.

The lights of the store are like a warm beacon, drawing you in with every step taken. But a hand on your shoulder stops you, your gaze shooting upwards to meet the fabric of a black scarf. Changbin is quick to wrap it around your neck, the cold skin now insulated by the warmth of the wooly scarf.

“Uh…” you trail off, not so sure what to say. Why was he giving you his scarf?

“You’ll thank me later.” And with that, the group is moving again, leaving you behind in a state of utter confusion.

Half an hour, 3 servings of fried chicken, 10 instant rice packs, and a few servings kimchi later, you’ve all paid for the food and are faced with the hefty task of carrying them home.

“Okay,” you sigh, switching the shopping bag from one hand to the other. “Was it just me or was that woman behind us in the lineup giving me the death glare.”

“Oh, she definitely was.” Minho nods. “Ah! I knew I wasn’t crazy!”

As you all continue walking, Felix tugs down the scarf a little, seemingly trying to play it off with a smile as you two make eye contact.

The thoughts seem to click in your mind, finally realizing that perhaps something is most certainly going on. First the scarf, now this? Stopping in your tracks, you can't help but meet each of their eyes, curiosity eating at you.

“What's going on?” You ask suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should ask Jisung.”

Minho’s arm is hit by Felix as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Both eyebrows are raised now, mouth open in surprise.

“Jisung?” You splutter, eyes wide. “Why?”

Changbin sigh, turning towards the two.

“We need to get back to the dorms. It’s late.” “No, we have to tell her.”

Lee Minho sighs, head in hands. “Changbin put the scarf on you to hide something, okay?”

“Sorry?” You question, eyes wide in confusion.

They all shift uncomfortably, fiddling with their clothes. It’s like they’re too awkward to point out something, say something obvious.

“There’s a mark.” Felix tells you, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“A mark?” You question, not quite comprehending.

“Yes,” Changbin sighs, defeated. “On your neck... from Jisung.”

Immediately your features flush red. If you could just simply melt away at this moment, surely you would. Hiding your face away in your hands you can’t help but squeak in embarrassment. How did you not know?!

All three now laughing boys, drag you along the path, reveling in your sheer embarrassment, and leading you to your ultimate damnation; the dorms.

The moment you’re all back, you can’t even bring yourself to look anyone in the eyes. Tugging the scarf a little closer to your neck, you quickly bypass everyone in the living area to the kitchen, setting up the instant rice packs whilst Felix handles the plating up of the chicken strips.

Dinner seems to go past in a pink blur, full of quite exchanges and flushed cheeks as you listen to the conversation at the table. It’s like you melt when you and Jisung finally make eye contact, cheeks turning pink at just the site of him.

“Y/N.”

You’re quick to shift your gaze to Chan, who has a worry etched into his features.

“Aren’t you overhearing in the scarf? It’s really warm in here.”

Shooting Minho a subtle dirty look as the boy chokes back a laugh, you give Chan a smile, shaking your head.

“I’m actually a little cold Chan. The scarf is keeping me warm though.”

As he nods, Jisung shoots you a worried look from across the table, clearly concerned by your contradicting flushed face, and the wooly scarf around your neck.

So after dinner, you rush off to your room, quietly shutting the door behind you before immediately ripping of the scarf, breathing a little sigh in relief as the cold air soothes your itching neck.

“Are you okay?”

The words make you jump, whirling around to see just where they came from, but landing on your boyfriend instead, who sits on the bed in the corner pajamas ridden, phone connected to the wall charger. His hair damp, darker in color. It illuminates his features oddly, giving him more of a mysterious vibe despite his contradicting pajamas.

Face flushing yet again, you shyly nod, eyes tracking to the floor.

He watches you for a few moments, concern breaking slowly into realization in his bright smile.

“Oh,” he says, eyes tracking back to the phone. “You’re cute.”

Head in your hands, you can’t even look at the boy. Your heart is wild in your chest, the beat loud in your ears.

“What did Chan say to you?” You ask, mustering the courage to look at Jisung. “Was he mad?”

“Mad? No, not at all.” He replies, sitting up, phone on the nightstand now.

“Oh...” “Why’s that? Did one of the boys say he was mad?”

You shake your head, cringing a little as you remember the embarrassing thing you were in fact told about.

But your apprehension doesn’t go unnoticed, the boys gaze turning confused.

“What did they say?”

Rather than saying you simply just turn your head, cheeks flushing a little as you do so.

“O-oh..” The boy stumbles, awkwardness quickly filling the room in the span of one word. You cringe at it, not lifting your eyes off the floor.

His feet are soon in front of yours, a gentle hand under your chin to push your gaze back to him.

“I mean, we were interrupted before.” “Yah, Jisung. You’re crazy.”

And just like that, his signature smirk sends your heart into another frenzy. “Perhaps I am.”

From the words to the way he steps forwards ever so slightly, his movements are soft; careful and slightly unsure. It’s the brush of his damp hair on your face as he leans forward, the way in which his fingers are soft on your cheek. Your fingers tangle in the front of his cotton shirt, pulling him closer if even humanly possible. The kiss itself is sweet; comforting.

But when you pull back, breathing a little hard, you can’t but help shake your head at how the boy in front of you makes your heart beat so irregularly, and something deep inside in your stomach swell with so much love and passion.

Stepping back, you crack a smile, meeting his eyes properly for the first time in a few hours.

“You are certainly crazy Jisung.” “Hm, but only for you, my love.”

Making a face at his cheesiness, you shove him away playfully, turning around to grab some pajamas from your draw.

But the sound of the lock clicking from behind you makes you whirl around, eyes wide as they watch a smirking Jisung who is now walking towards you.

“You know, we were interrupted earlier.”

“Interrupted?” You question, watching his every move, from the way he walks to the way he pushes his hair back.

“You know,” he begins. “It was a little something like this.”

And like that your hands are in his, putting you in a trace like state as the boy pulls you towards him, soft and comforting.

When his lips are back in yours, it’s like everything falls into place once more, completely in sync with each other.

Uninterrupted at last you were, pulling each other closer as if to say ‘at last, we can finally be alone together.”

Moments like this with Jisung were precious, almost nonexistent between schedules and work. But now, here you are, wrapped in the arms of the boy you know and love, his lips on yours with surprising gentleness.

You’re not sure how long you two are actually together for, just knowing that the feeling of the boy just being with you made you feel whole, loved even.

Lips slightly swollen, and faces tainted with pink cheeks, the situation was somewhat still comical. You know the teasing will be somehow worse now, as minutes turned into an hour quicker then they had when the boys had been gone. Surely they’d noticed your absences.

But as you enter the living room, a little disheveled and short of breath, the 7 didn’t seem to take much notice, scattered around the living and dining area. The 00 line seem to be caught up in a game of monopoly, whilst others are embedded in a game of Mario Kart.

Sighing in relief, you give Jisung a small smile, but spot Minho’s subtle smirk to Chan over his shoulder.

Relief comes and goes like a flood, leaving only embarrassment as the four of you catch each other’s eyes.

Chan raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. He leans over to the both of you, a whisper on his tongue.

“You’re both going to need a scarf.”