#maybe needs to happen more than twice to be an actual phenomenon

[thespectral-wolf]

Junctions - Part 2

Weeks after the space-time rift closed, Rei runs into Warden Ingo. It soon becomes apparent that despite sharing a similar fate, they don't know how to put themselves in the other's shoes.

Part 1 - Part 3

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“Psst! Rei! Hey, Rei!” Akari poked him in the shoulder, rousing the boy absorbed in his Pokédex. “Do you think we should worry about the alpha?” she pointed towards the large Clefable between the trees.

They were currently at the Fabled Spring to study the moon-dance of the Clefairies. While Rei usually completed the requests alone, with his hand still healing and unable to call the ride pokémon, Professor Laventon insisted that they go together. Of course, Akari didn’t need to be asked twice, as she wanted to see the phenomenon herself.

They even got to borrow the Professor’s camera to take some pictures – although between Akari, who was relatively new to the concept of photography, and Rei, who only ever used digital devices, figuring out how to use it was a challenge on its own.

He put down his ‘dex and brushed away some of the tall grass to see better. He watched the massive pokémon for a moment before shrugging.

“Clefables aren’t normally aggressive. As long as we keep low, we should be alright.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she nodded and rested her head on her hands. They were out there for more than an hour now, the full moon already bathing the mountains in its bright, silver light. So far, nothing happened.

“Have you ever seen Clefairies dance?” she asked, suppressing a yawn.

“Nah,” Rei scratched his temple. “It happens very rarely and I guess I couldn’t get myself to stay up late to watch it. But Cotton would always get very jittery during full moons. I had to make sure she got a good view of it, otherwise she wouldn’t let anyone in the house sleep.”

“‘Cotton’?” Akari raised her brow.

“Oh, right, Cotton is my Clefable… back home…” he felt a lump in his throat forming as he was reminded that his pokémon were left behind in his own time. His family probably looked out for them in his absence. He hoped that they were alright.

Akari lightly nudged him, snapping him out of the thought. “Hey, that means you know your stuff about Clefairies, right? Now I know who to turn to if I ever want one on my team,” she tried steering the subject. Her face showed understanding. She may not know everything about his life before Hisui, but she knows how much thinking about it hurts. Rei smiled.

“Hey look! Something’s happening!” she suddenly called out in a whisper, and they both laid low, eyes fixed on the lake.

Just as if on cue, a group of Clefairies appeared, lining up on the lakeshore. They started moving in unison while letting out small cries at the full moon. Akari and Rei watched the event with wonder. They were so enamored by the spectacle, they almost forgot to actually record it. Akari quickly jotted down notes on her own Pokédex, while Rei maneuvered the professor’s camera with one hand. He hoped there was enough light for the pictures to come out well.

But just as quickly as it started, the Clefairies got alert and dispersed.

With it all over, the two teens packed up and made their way back on the riverbank, carefully treading the rocky environment while whispering excitedly. It was a long walk back to the Mountain Camp, especially without the aid of Wyrdeer, but with the full moon lighting the area, they didn’t mind.

Arriving at a ledge, they decided to cut some of the way and drop down instead. Akari went ahead, taking the almost two-meter jump with finesse. Rei hesitated a bit. Despite the months he worked as a surveyor, he was still behind her in terms of physical fitness. Maybe he should just take the way around.

“Don’t get so worked up, I’ll catch you,” she joked, holding her arms out in emphasis.

Rei grimaced at her, took a deep breath, and aimed at an outcrop of rock to jump on, hoping it’ll make the landing easier.

As his foot made contact, it jolted, almost causing him to fall. The ‘rock’ pushed itself up and angrily rumbled at him.

“Shit!” he yelped, jumping away. They were staring down a Rhyhorn that looked very upset. The teens backed down. It roared and soon enough, the whole ground around them seemed to come alive. Three, four, five, six… they stumbled on a whole herd of Rhyhorns and Rhydons that now started to surround them.

“Run!” Akari grabbed his good hand and pulled him towards the direction not yet blocked by angry pokémon.

Their getaway did not last long though: they were quickly met with a cliffside. Without the option to climb it, all that was left was to battle the pokémon that quickly encircled them again. Akari sent out her Staraptor, Rei his Decidueye.

The owl ruffled its feathers and sized up its opponents. Their adversaries snorted and grunted in anticipation, ready to strike. Rei couldn’t waste time.

“Leaf Blade!” he pointed at the Rhyhorn directly in front of them. With quick moves, Decidueye sent a barrage of sharp leaves at the enemy, overwhelming it. At the same time, Akari’s Staraptor took on a Rhydon with Close Combat. The Rhyhorn fell immediately and did not get up, whereas the Rhydon weathered the damage, but seemed to be on the edge of fainting. Rei breathed out. So far, so good. If they can create an opening, they can flee without prolonging the fight. One of the Rhydons roared in rage, kicking up sharp rocks at Decidueye, digging into it. Another caught Staraptor off guard with a Rock Slide, the bird not standing a chance with its lowered defenses. Akari breathed in sharply, as she recalled her partner. Not good.

Rei was ready to shout another attack, when the earth started to shake beneath them. The kids grabbed at each other for support. Rocks and soil moved around as the glistering snakelike body of an alpha Steelix emerged, roused by the cacophony of battle. The other pokémon yelped in surprise but didn’t flee. Slowly and drowsily, the Steelix shook the last pebbles off it and its burning red eyes sized up the teens. It roared.

The kids shared a look. There was no way they’d be able to fend off this many opponents. They had to make a run for it. Wordlessly, Rei gave Akari a nod.

“Triple Arrows, Strong Style!” Rei called out, pointing at the alpha. Decidueye acted quickly, barraging it with sharpened feathers. The Steelix staggered.

“Go, go, go!” Rei yelled, and Akari bolted off. She rushed past a small gap between the pokémon, hoping that in the chaos they will not have enough time to react. But the sudden movement caught the Steelix’s attention: it turned, lashing its strong tail at the girl, and struck her with such force, it sent her flying to a nearby rock. Rei shouted in panic, forcing the large metallic snake’s attention back to him and Decidueye. It slammed its head against the bird, albeit with less force.

Rei anxiously watched Akari. She lay on the ground several meters away from him, clutching her shoulder, face contorted in pain. He had to do something, and quick. If he tried to run to her, he was risking being attacked by the pokémon, the only barrier between them and him was his stalwart partner demanding their attention.

“Triple Arrows again!” Rei cried out.

The arrows hit true, and the Steelix faltered, but it refused to back down. As Decidueye landed, he was immediately rammed by one of the Rhydons. Rei winced. Despite the type advantage, Decidueye cannot fight against this many. Should Rei send out another one of his team? Gastrodon or Goodra could fight the rock types, but he never had a double battle in his life. No, this wasn’t a trainer battle, wild pokémon rarely abided by arbitrary rules, this shouldn’t matter. His chest was tight, his thoughts becoming a scrambled, panicked mess. Decidueye side-eyed him, the battle already wearing it down, but still waiting patiently for his command. He needed to reach Akari, but how? He can’t, he couldn’t-

Something from the cliffs dropped at the Steelix, hitting it hard on the head. The figure of a tall pokémon stood in front of him, the moon practically lighting it up. It was Sneasler. The pokémon hissed in warning, claws ready to strike again. The alpha turned at the new offender, giving Rei the opening to gather himself and make his way to Akari.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to look for signs of injuries.

“I’m in… one piece…” the girl heaved. She tried to get up, but could barely pull herself from the spot.

Rei glanced behind him. Sneasler and the Steelix were not attacking yet, instead they exchanged growls and hisses in an attempt to intimidate the other.

He heard running footsteps, which soon came to a skidding halt. Rei looked up to see Warden Ingo standing frozen at the scene. His figure was clear in the moonlight, but his face was obscured by the brim of his hat. He seemed hesitant, hand hovering over the pokéballs on his belt and looking between the teenagers and Sneasler facing off the Steelix. Sneasler broke the stare-off with her opponent, and mewled at her warden. It seemed it was all that Ingo needed. He sprung up with surprising speed, throwing two pokéballs, releasing his Tangrowth and Machamp then ordering the two to fend off some of the Rhydons. As soon as the pokémon were distracted, Ingo sprinted past them, reaching Akari and Rei in only a few steps.

“Is anybody hurt?” even when keeping his voice down, Ingo sounded very loud.

Akari tried to sit up, but hissed in pain as she tried to move her shoulder. Rei caught her and glanced at the Warden. Ingo’s face was tense, he took in a sharp breath before standing up straight.

“Hold on you two,” he told them and commanded his pokémon, which forced the wild Rhyhorns to back away with devastating attacks. He reached for Akari, and lifted her.

“Come on, quick,” he called out, moving away from the fight while holding the girl. Rei called Decidueye back and followed. As they were getting further and further away, he couldn’t help but glance back ever so often at the pokémon still battling.

Ingo noticed the boy’s anxiety. “Worry not,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road. “They know how to handle themselves.”

Once they reached the camp, the security corpsman stood up with alert, raising her lantern.

Laventon, who was snoozing by the fire, jostled at the sudden noise. His eyes widened when he saw them and rushed there with panic.

“Oh my stars, what happened?” he immediately started looking Akari over.

“A whole herd… and an alpha… too many… overwhelmed,” Rei sputtered, hands on knees, his head rushing with adrenaline.

Meanwhile Laventon got Ingo to lay Akari down at the tent, and helped the girl take off her coat to get a better look at her injury.

“Can you lift your arm?” Laventon asked while examining the damage.

Akari winced as she tried to move it.

Rei only glanced towards them, catching a big, ugly bruise forming on her back, and her side where the Steelix hit her.

“It’s swollen, but I don’t think anything’s broken,” Laventon sighed after inspecting the bruises,” but captain Pesselle could tell more… you must get to Jubilife immediately,” he urged.

“We really don’t have to, I’ll be fine,” Akari tried to reassure him.

“I say you rather not go this late,” the guard chimed in, “Jubilife is almost a day’s walk from here. It would be risky to go out so late.”

“But you can’t expect them to camp out in the mountains in this state!” the professor protested.

Rei scratched at his bandaged hand. He wished he could call for Wyrdeer. He got better at handling stuff with one hand, but failed repeatedly to use his Celestica flute, the notes never coming out right. Now Akari’s hurt. This was his fault. He should’ve been more careful.

“My home isn’t that far,” Warden Ingo spoke up suddenly. Even he himself seemed surprised at it, and now with all eyes looking at him, he was shifting uncomfortably. He continued, eyes on the ground. “Akari can stay the night there. It would be more comfortable to sleep under a roof. If you wish, of course,” he quickly added.

“Oh, in that case,” Akari piped up, as if she just remembered something, “could Rei come along? I think he could use some proper rest too.” Rei’s attention snapped at his fellow surveyor. Akari was the only person he confided in about his fight with the Warden, and now she was setting him up for an uncomfortable situation. He gave her a dirty look, at which she just rolled her eyes. Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing.

He looked at Warden Ingo, who seemed equally awkward at the suggestion, eyes flicking between the kids, swallowing hard.

“Of course,” the man stammered.

Ingo did not have a reason to invite him. Rei did not have a reason to go. Rei sighed.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. Thank you,” he said reluctantly.

Laventon did not catch on to the tension between them, and smiled at the warden.

“Thank you, Warden Ingo, you truly are kind,“ he then turned to the children, “But you two should head for Jubilife first thing in the morning so you can get properly treated.”

“Should I send a message to Jubilife for an escort?” the guard asked.

“No need. I’ll sort it out,” Ingo said. “Signal, once you’re ready for departure,” he composed himself, straightening his back as much as he could.

After taking a little breather, Rei helped Akari up, supporting her. Ingo threw his arms up in his signature pointing pose, and led them. The teens walked a few paces behind him.

“Traitor,” Rei whispered in her ear, making sure Ingo did not hear him.

“Oh, come on,” she whispered back, “Warden Ingo hasn’t been to Jubilife since you apparently yelled his head off, and you refused to come to the Highlands because you didn’t want to run into him. You two act like little kids. Sort it out! Seriously, how did you manage to save Hisui when you can’t even handle an argument?”

“Throwing balms at pokémon is not even comparable to talking to people,” he hissed through his teeth. But Akari’s words did make him think…

It was true that he felt betrayed by the warden’s inaction. Did he only trust Ingo because he felt familiar? The uniform that had seen better days suggested that Ingo was coming from the same time or at least time period as Rei, and the man seemed as out of place as Rei felt. Comrades in fate, or something like that. Was he too quick to latch onto that idea?

Did he ever stop to think whether Ingo felt the same?

And it wasn’t like Rei was one to hold grudges. He didn’t use to, that is. He always strived to be on everybody’s good side and the idea of somebody hating him was one of the worst things he could have imagined. He knew better now of course. He has his captain to thank for that lesson. And he was angry. Angry at Kamado, angry at Jubilife, angry at Arceus, angry at whoever was responsible for all of this mess. But in the end, he didn’t tell those people outright how he felt, did he? Was Warden Ingo any different from those people? Would staying angry at him do any good?

Rei made his decision: this was not a bridge he wanted to burn. How he was going to mend it though, was another question.

They walked in silence for the rest of the way to the Warden’s hut. It stood under a treeline, protecting it from the ocean winds that blew from the shore not far from there. Ingo opened the door for them and urged them in. Before entering, he fished out his Celestica flute and played on it.

“Now my partners know where we are,” he explained.

Inside, Rei helped Akari sit down and took place next to her. Ingo opened a chest and started rummaging through it.

Rei looked around the room. It was barely furnished, only the essentials found there: storage chests, a dresser for clothes, a workbench, a futon haphazardly left on the floor. The Pearl Clan insignia hung from the wall, and there were all kinds of little stuff laying around the place… There were several items that looked like they were used for training and entertaining pokémon; a wooden beam from which he just noticed Ingo’s Gliscor dozing on; failed attempts of making pokéballs around the bench, tools and wood for whittling; a small figure of a dragon-type Rei couldn’t recognize sat on the dresser. In its simplicity, it resembled his own quarters in Jubilife, yet it couldn’t be more different. It actually looked lived-in. It actually looked like Ingo made a life here.

Ingo stepped to the kids, a vial and some wrappings in hand.

“You can use this on the injuries. It should help with the pain and the swelling,” he explained as he handed them over. Rei took them with a quiet ‘thanks’, and with some embarrassment, helped Akari to lift her garments to treat the bruises.

Meanwhile, Ingo turned away, took off his torn coat, and laid it on the dresser neatly folded, putting his hat on top of it. He then quietly turned to the hearth to stoke the fire.

Rei occasionally peeked at the Warden while carefully applying the medicine on Akari’s injury.

“If you are perhaps hungry, I can prepare something quick,” Ingo said in an unsure voice, turning to them. Rei couldn’t help but notice how every time the man addressed them, he always looked at Akari, not him. If Rei did manage to catch his glance, Ingo quickly avoided the eye contact. This whole situation was… awkward, to say the least.

Akari hissed as Rei applied too much pressure on the wound. He quickly apologized, and tried to be more careful while wrapping it. Akari answered Ingo:

“Thank you, but we’re more tired than hungry, I think.” She looked at Rei, and he agreed. It had to be around two in the morning already, and with all the action they had to go through, he wanted nothing more than to conk out.

Ingo nodded and went on to prepare a second futon, laying it out next to the other one. He made sure both of them were neat for his guests to sleep on.

“I do apologize in advance for the amount of fur that may be on the sheets,” Ingo coughed with a little embarrassment in his voice, “I hope you’ll be able to rest well nonetheless.” With that, the Warden sat back at the hearth, poking the wood to catch more flames.

Rei stared at the futons for a moment with furrowed brows.

“Uh, where are you going to sleep, Warden?” he asked. “I mean, Akari and I are used to sharing the camp’s tent when we’re both out surveying. It’s… really not that a big deal.” he tried to sound reassuring. Akari snorted.

“Speak for yourself, I like it when you don’t punch me in your sleep,” she joked.

“That only happened once!” Rei snapped back.

“Three times.”

“Fine.”

Akari snickered, and turned back to Ingo, “He’s right though. You don’t need to sleep on the floor, Warden.”

Ingo just waved it off.

“Don’t worry about that. The comfort of my passengers takes priority over mine,” he answered without taking his eyes off the hearth.

There seemed no point in arguing, so they thanked him and prepared to sleep, although it took Akari some time to find a comfortable position with her aching side and shoulder. Nevertheless, she was fast asleep, judging by her slow breaths. Rei wasn’t that quick to doze off. Thoughts still racing, he stared at the man for a little while – the smoldering fire deepened his wrinkles, making him look so much older and tired than Rei had ever seen him. Slowly but steadily, he drifted off.

[kyoxyukiforever]

The Science of A/B/O

Part 4 - Mating

Part 1 (The Basics), Part 2 (Heats and Ruts), Part 3 (Scents and Pheromones), Part 4 (Mating), Part 5 (Genetics and Presenting)

Warning: sex ed that no one asked for and all that that implies, discussions of knotting, slick, mating bites, semen, ejaculation, sexual anatomy and physiology of both humans and animals, and the most PG diagrams I could manage to find on the internet

MATING BITES

It seems like the reason A/B/O fiction depicts a scent gland as being on the neck is for the mating bite. The mating bite is based on an actual phenomenon that occurs in nature. Plenty of animals will bite their partners while mating, from cats to weasels to spiders. That said, mating bites in nature aren’t a way of forming or strengthening a bond. Instead, it’s considered one of many behaviors in nature that are classified as sexual coercion. When mating bites occur in real life, it’s to prevent the other animal from moving, escaping, or attacking the one delivering the bite. There isn't even a scent gland there - at least not that I could find in any of the animals I researched who exhibit this behavior.

Now, I'm just reading through existing papers and studies and applying them to the tropes that exist in A/B/O, mostly so you guys don't have to wade through hundreds of pages of densely worded scientific prose, but I don't have the expertise needed to invent new science, which I would need to do in order to explain mating bites in A/B/O.

Luckily for me, someone else has already done that.

@brainsforbabyjesus also did an in depth dive into the science of A/B/O over on AO3, which I highly encourage you to check out!

I actually wish that I had come across it before I did all of the research for these posts, but oh well. On the bright side, there are now two pieces of literature on the science of A/B/O for your perusal, each of which resulted from completely separate research methods, which means if you read both, you'll have a wealth of information coming from totally uncoordinated sources!

All that said, @brainsforbabyjesus seems to have a better understanding of applied biology than I do, and they invented a way for mating bites to work!

I'm not going to linger on it here, because you really should check out their work using this link or the link above (yes I linked it twice, go read it - mating bites are in chapter 4!). I'm just going to do a very bare bones rundown of their theory in order to continue on with my own research.

They suggest that there are three glands located on the back and either side of the neck (plus some surrounding nerves) that they call "the coniguim glandis (literally marriage gland)" and that during a heat/rut, either during or immediately following an orgasm, a "bonding enzyme" is produced inside an alpha/omega's mouth. When this enzyme is introduced to the coniguim glandis, the bite recipient literally gets their biology rewritten.

If that sounds fantastical, it is, but it's also firmly based in real world science, and if you want to understand it more in depth, PLEASE go check out their work. They also offer explanations for true mates and the trope of dying when one's mate dies. Happy reading!

Back to my own research and conclusions: the production of an enzyme in the mouth isn't the only interesting thing that happens to alphas and omegas during or immediately following an orgasm (although I will take this opportunity to posit that maybe the enzyme has anesthetic properties to make the bite hurt less).

That's right folks! We're finally getting to...

KNOTTING!

Let's just... let's just do this.

Knotting is something that happens in real life, specifically in canid mammals like dogs and wolves. You probably already knew that, but let's get into specifics. The knot, or bulbus glandis (pause for laughter) is an erectile tissue structure at the base of the penis, and not actually a gland. Immediately before ejaculation, this knot does exactly what you would expect erectile tissue to do: it becomes firm and engorged.

The purpose of this structure is to lock, tie, or knot the two animals together. This ensures that the penis remains in the vagina for the entire duration of ejaculation. Now uh, for humans, this isn't actually a difficult thing to accomplish, seeing as the average ejaculation duration of a human male is 4.2 seconds, or 10 seconds at the very most. Canids, on the other hand, will remain knotted or tied together for anywhere between 2 and 45 minutes, and ejaculation lasts the whole friggin' time.

I know that there's a pretty big gap between two and forty-five minutes, and this is largely down to the specific type of canid. Since I'm sure you're wondering: in wolves, the tie, or coitus entrapus (yes, really) typically lasts between 15 and 30 minutes, although it might be as short as 5 minutes, or as long as 40 minutes. Yet again, the timing isn't really narrowed down much further. So why is there such a huge disparity?

Well, when a wolf's knot becomes erect, it stays that way until literally all of the sperm is gone.

For comparison, a human ejaculates an average of 2 to 5 milliliters of semen, with each milliliter containing about 100 million sperm. Dogs? One milliliter of semen contains 300 million sperm, and they can ejaculate up to 30 milliliters. If you are remarkably quick at mental math, you might have calculated that this amounts to a total of nine billion (9,000,000,000) sperm for a single ejaculation, and you'd be right... mathematically speaking. In actuality, it only comes to about 2 billion, even at the 30 ml mark.

Obviously, the math doesn't add up. Why? Because ejaculation, in both humans and wolves, occurs in stages. As far as wolves go, the general consensus is that the first 30 seconds of ejaculate come from the prostate gland, followed by sperm-rich semen for a couple minutes, and then more from the prostate gland for anywhere between 6 and 45 minutes. With humans, because of how brief our ejaculation is, we tend to think of semen as everything mixed together all at once, but prostatic fluid does cleanse the urethra for the sperm before it makes its journey in humans as well.

So the reason there aren't 9 billion sperm in a dog's ejaculate is because not all of the ejaculate has sperm in it. Still though, 2 billion is nothing to sneeze at. What does this mean for our alphas?

This is another thing that is up to author discretion. The amount of ejaculate correlates in part with how long it has been since the last ejaculation, and for dogs, whose females are monoestrous, the males are really saving up for the whole house. Meanwhile, humans are paying monthly rent in a crappy apartment complex. Basically, human's tend to be a lot more wasteful of their genetic material. Dogs wait until they're already tied before ejaculating in order to maximize their odds of reproducing, but humans will settle for a hand and a computer screen.

So presumably this means that an alpha would have a shorter ejaculation, but uh... not necessarily. Remember that a dog's semen is only sperm rich for one or two minutes. Most of the semen is composed of prostatic fluid, accounting for up to forty-five minutes of the time the animals spend tied together.

In humans, prostatic fluid accounts for 20-30% of the semen ejaculated - significantly less than a dog. Here's the thing, though: human and canid prostate glands are pretty much the same size, and it isn't out of the question to suggest that when an alpha successfully achieves a tie, they might expel a comparable amount of prostatic fluid to dogs. This almost certainly wouldn't happen without a tie - although I suppose that physiologically the body could be tricked into it by using a sleeve of some kind. Without having successfully knotted, the alpha's ejaculation would likely look exactly the same as a normal human's.

That said, an alpha's ejaculation doesn't need to look like a dog's when they do knot. They could just as easily have the 4.2 second one normal people have, followed by a knot for some duration of time determined by the author, no further contribution required. Regardless, the amount of sperm in a male alpha's semen would be the same, no matter how much prostatic fluid you decide to include. Human sperm takes 74 days to mature fully, and completely emptying your, uh, bank account the way dogs do would leave you completely infertile for 74 days following a single orgasm - not exactly a reproductive advantage.

Now you might be thinking that coming for 45 minutes straight sounds absolutely insane, and sure, it has the potential to be very hot and very messy, but at what cost? I feel like I'm getting a cramp just thinking about it! Luckily for the alphas in this scenario, they don't have to do all the work themselves.

That's right, we're finally gonna talk about omegas, and how they contribute to the mating process!

Now before I get to the slick (yes, I hear you, just hang on a sec), I want to introduce you to a little something called the constrictor vestibuli muscles. These are a series of muscles just inside the opening of a female canine's vagina, and they are literally designed to clamp down around a knot and milk it.

The constrictor vestibuli reflexively (involuntarily) clamp down when they detect the presence of a knot, and once they have, they will contract and release around the knot repeatedly to help the male remain erect and continue to ejaculate. Just like how you can't stop yourself from ejaculating once you've started, the constrictor vestibuli are going to do their job, regardless of what the animal (or omega) they belong to might want. I thought this was an important thing to bring up, since I haven't really come across it while reading A/B/O fanfiction. It's interesting to me that both alphas and omegas would have these reflexive reactions while mating.

Okay, let's get to the important thing.

SLICK

In A/B/O, omegas produce slick, a form of natural lubrication, while they're in heat. Human women also produce natural lubricant using something called the Bartholin's gland (which is called the Cowper's gland in men and is actually what produces precum), but the way slick is depicted in fanfiction tells us that it's something... more significant, let's say.

We can once again turn to animals in heat to figure out how the natural lubricant really works and what it is. Animals start producing 'slick' during their preheat, or proestrus phase, and it's not coming from the Bartholin's gland. Instead, it comes directly from the cervix.

The technical term for this 'slick' is cervical mucus, which doesn't sound nearly as appealing. What is appealing about all of this is the fact that humans also produce cervical mucus. That's right! Humans produce slick just like animals do! In fact, women trying to get pregnant can identify when they are at their most fertile by the texture of their cervical mucus.

Cervical mucus serves two different purposes at two different parts of an estrous/menstrual cycle. If it's not a good time for fertilization to occur, it will be dry, tacky, or sticky. This texture of mucus is too thick for sperm to swim through. Sorry guys, this uterus is closed, please come back during regular business hours.

If it is a good time, then it serves a different function - the complete opposite one, in fact. Two days before ovulation in humans, or the beginning of preheat in animals with estrous cycles, the mucus changes to a creamy, yogurt-like consistency. By the time the body is ready, or when heat begins properly, it will be slippery and stretchy, resembling raw egg whites. This type of cervical mucus is ideal for sperm to swim through, maximizing the chance of fertilization.

Also, don't blame me for comparing the textures to foods, it's just what doctors and scientists tend to compare them to in the relevant literature. The egg whites in particular were brought up in nearly every paper I read with shocking consistency, so uh. Yeah, slick is egg whites, I guess.

One last thing before I leave this part of A/B/O Science - we talked a lot today about prostates. Like... a lot. I just wanted to address something:

Could male omegas have prostates?

You might remember that way back in the very first part of this series we discussed how certain body parts start off as the same thing in utero and become different things as the fetus develops? The example from back then was the gonads, which become either the ovaries or the testes. Well we have something similar with the prostate.

In females, the Skene's gland is homologous to the prostate in men, and it functions in much the same way. It stops you from pissing yourself (yeah, fun fact), and it produces prostate-specific antigen (PSA), which in men is designed to "water down" the semen so it can travel more easily through the urethra. The PSA produced in the Skene's gland doesn't have any sperm to deal with, but many scientists believe that PSA is what 'female ejaculation' actually is. So it would seem that the answer is no, male omegas can't have prostates...

...or can they?

Trans men who have been on testosterone for long periods of time can actually develop prostate tissue. In fact, after being on T for 43 months, seven out of eight trans men had some prostate tissue growth. 69% (heh) of the tissue was even shown to be producing PSA!

Now, because this prostate tissue isn't attached to the urethra, it doesn't contribute to the semen. It may or may not enter the bloodstream as inactive PSA, which is perfectly normal and happens to a portion of the PSA produced by a prostate belonging to a cis man as well, but there's no data on that yet. This discovery is actually very new, so there's a lot left to learn. What we do know is that this tissue appears totally harmless. None of the individuals shown to have this growth have gone on to develop prostate cancer or any other related issue - although many people will have a cancer scare when this tissue first appears, as it can easily be mistaken for a tumor at first glance.

Since we determined early on that male omegas would have a normal amount of androgens (the stuff that gives you chest hair and makes your voice drop) for a human male, we can also assume that they would see growth of prostate tissue. In fact, some intersex people have the exact same growth, although it is often further along than you would see in a trans man, because they've had those androgens for longer.

Scientists took tissue samples, and 100% of this surprise prostate tissue expressed androgen receptors. Basically, it's safe to assume that androgens, the same stuff that would make a male omega grow chest hair and have a deeper voice, would also cause them to grow a prostate.

That said, the Skene's gland would still be fulfilling the function of the prostate. Any prostate-specific antigen that occurs in ejaculate would be made there. Also, because omegas aren't producing sperm, their ejaculate wouldn't be nearly as thick as ejaculate with sperm in it. Instead, it would look and feel pretty much like milk. Also, if you want alphas to ejaculate for forty minutes, most of it would be milky as well.

This has been your PSA PSA for the day!

Next up on A/B/O Science: GENETICS AND PRESENTING

Part 1 (The Basics), Part 2 (Heats and Ruts), Part 3 (Scents and Pheromones), Part 4 (Mating), Part 5 (Genetics and Presenting)

[owlnote]

Story Idea 1: Astrology Is Actually Real

What if astrology was actually real? Then it couldn't be about natal charts (objects in positions) so much as objects in relation to other objects -- about aspects. Maybe there is a general sense in which an object in a position (a person with Sun in Sagittarius) relates to another broader prominent object (a country with Saturn in Sagittarius), in a way that tends to predict consistent patterns for Sag Sun people, places & things within that larger object (the country), but nonetheless, it's still all about relationship dynamics.

What are our major relationships to things? Are we too deep in them to even see them? And can we even know the charts for them? We have a relationship to our parents, for instance, and they both have birth charts -- the inception of their "personality" beginning to form, arguably, or the beginning of their conscious breathing life as an entity -- what exactly is it that begins at birth? And why say it doesn't begin before birth, arbitrarily? Because we don't know when exactly before birth it would begin? Are first breaths the true beginning of a life? What about conception? What if a baby is born asphyxiating - then they still need to breath, so first breaths are still what count, even if they're on a ventillator. Even if a machine is breathing for them. If a machine is breathing for them, then their fate is tied in with that machine, and when/where it was built, but also when it was invented, when the first prototype was made, when it was cleared by the FDA as a piece of DME to be used in hospitals, when the hospital decided to adopt that technology. The hospital is also a factor in the birth of the child & how that will go, or if there is no hospital, the history of the place.

What about genetics? Genetics always recombine at conception. So conception dates matter, too, at least to that end.

And who we were with, at any given moment. They were all influencing that moment's outcome, and influencing us - who we became. And we were all influenced by where we were. A place, comprised of political boundaries with natal dates, of objects & entities with conception & corporeal manifestation ("birth") dates…

What about the culture. What's the natal chart of a culture? When did it begin? What were its key moments, and was anyone there to see & notice? Was it when the Berlin Wall fell (a date/time well recorded), when Reagan bellowed, "Tear down that wall, Mr. Gorbachev!", or when a seagull crapped on Helmut Kohl's head and he took it as a sign to second Reagan's notion to Mr. Gorbachev (a moment lost to the ages, lost to the memory of even Kohl himself - maybe he can't even remember why he did it, the day was so big, he forgot all about the seagull, though he took it as an omen at the time)?

Everything that ever happens began somewhere, nothing happens spontaneously, so all moments led up to this one, who is to say which was more important than the others - perhaps they were all necessary, to let it cook.

We have no way of knowing, because we can't run the same experiment twice. There is only access to one timeline. We can only approximate likelihoods. …

Is there anything to numerology? Do the dates themselves, and quantity of things matter? We could never know, because where do we cut off a date? At the minute? Second? Millisecond? Gigasecond? How can we arrive at a full picture if the correct slice of time itself to be measured is an uncertain commodity -- time is of the essence, after all.

Do alphabet letters correspond with numeric values in anyway? What about hieroglyphics, sanskrit, then, kanji -- languages that lack a phonetic alphabet…what is the numerology of their names? Are we to believe that numerology (a supposedly universal cosmic phenomenon) is only accessible in English -- aka "God's Language"? lol

The anglocentrism is dizzying. Do all languages get their own numerological tables, then? And is it as simple as "1, 2, 3" numbering the alphabet or characters in their generally prescribed order? Why, then? Is not that ordering arbitrary? (You ask now -- is anything "arbitrary"? Or does every action hold some cosmic significance…so be very damned careful, all the time, for all actions have consequences…)

You are in a room, a cricket is chirping. If you sat there & counted the chirps, how many do you count? Do you count till you can no longer hear it? What if someone with better hearing could hear it longer? What if you lose count? What if there are multiple crickets? Then does it matter which one is making the most sounds? Or is it the sum total of chirps you're trying to count? What if sometimes they overlap?

[ifuckinglovestvincent]

I appreciate your work. I appreciate the fact that I can check one social media site and catch up on what Annie has been up to. Your site also serves as a much needed archive. It’s a museum of sorts. Don’t let the haters get you down.

❤️

[hlootooart]

My Encanto Headcanons Pt.2

Dolores

I know Jared Bush said it’s not as voluntary as she’d like, but she HAS to have some control over her power. Otherwise she’d be insane by now. That or dead.

Think. Dolores’ hearing is so good, she can hear movements that are normally silent to other people like Luisa’s eye twitching). What about other sounds little sounds that the rest of the human can make? What about things underground? How much white noise is in a “silent” room? The sound of dust falling? The house settling? The bugs crawling in the walls? With out some kind of filtering, she should be beyond insane!

In The Family Madrigal, we an see her about a mile away from the village, apparently still able to hear something. I’m gonna say she has a limit of about 3 miles in a sphere shape, but her ability to hear “finer” things (like twitching) has a smaller radius (about a couple yards maybe). The further she is, the more she has to actually strain herself to hear something-- which very rarely happens.

Over time, she’s learned how to filter out most sounds as background  noise, and hone in on others. The problem is, her gift kicks in whenever she hears something that catch’s her attention. She could be minding her own business, then she’d hear, “Hey have you heard about...?” and now she knows all about Señor Paolo’s hemorrhoids...whether she wants to or not.

She has pillows in her room that are very fluffy and noise cancelling. So when she lays down on them, she can have a restful night’s sleep.

In her room, sound as a whole is turned down. So things that would normally be loud outside it, would be quieter inside it.

Pepa

These are the weather phenomenon that Pepa’s emotions make

When she’s scared, it snows

When she’s anxious there’s overcast clouds

When’s said or over emotional it rains

Anger there’s thunderstorms. Even angrier there’s lightning

Happiness = sunshine (the happier she is, the brighter

Joy there’s a rainbow

When she’s feeling lost or uncertain a whole lot she makes fog

When she’s overcome by worry she causes hurricanes

A light breeze can signal her being really relaxed

Violent rage can be unpredictable. Ranging from a hailstorm to a firestorm (thankfully this is very, very, very rare. Like it only happened twice her whole life)

On some rare occasions, her emotions can overlap and create some pretty odd phenomenon. For example, if she’s both really scared and really angry, she can make thunderstorms with snow. Maybe even a full on lightning blizzard.

Pepa’s room is divided into areas devoted to certain emotion and built for them. That way she can let loose without causing unnecessary damage. She needs a good cry? To the ever soggy crying corner! Really needs to let loose some rage? Strike some dummies in the anger corner with lightning! Wanna just relax? Chill out in breezy corner with some nice music.

In her breezy corner she has little pinwheels and sailboats or whatever she can watch spin as she winds down (no pun intended)

Even though she can be very stressed out, she has a great relationship with her kids and nieces. She loves children and knows how to work with them.

She was very sorry for Mirabel when she didn’t get a gift, so she made a point to be supportive for her when she was growing up.

Things got a little complicated as she got older though. She still loves her deeply.

She’s great at sewing like her father was and passed it on to Dolores and Mirabel.

She helped Mirabel make Antonio’s stuffed jaguar

She has embroidered shirts for Félix which he wears on only the best occasions.

She’s worried about Dolores’ well-being because of her gift, so she makes sure to have time set aside for her to check up on her.

Since she and Félix had Antonio so late in life, she’s extra concerned over him that he’s raised well.

She really wish Camilo would stay in his true form more. She keeps his baby pictures so she doesn’t forget it herself.

Luisa

She’s much smarter than she may seem.

When the cousin gang starts their shenanigans, she’s usually the voice of reason. Pre-movie Isabela would be though she’d secretly be on board with it. Post-movie-- Luisa was pretty much on her own lol

She’s in touch with her “girly” side. She loves stuffed toys, cute baby animals, and even making flower crowns.

However, she’s not quite into dressing in frilly clothing like her sisters and other relatives. She prefers simpler clothing even for formal events.

She still has an "fun” section like the concept art had, but it can only be accessed by pulling the weights and pulleys in her room in a certain order

Alternatively, she turns the equipment in her room into a makeshift playground/obstacle curse

Sometimes her younger cousins come in and hang out there for fun

Antonio’s jaguar Parce likes it especially

She and Pepa can relate to being emotional so they talk about it together sometimes

Luisa has always been a very responsible sibling to Mirabel, even when they were younger. She was always holding her hand and leading her away from what she thought was too dangerous

Even when Mirabel got older, she still gets a teeny bit protective over her. Especially when she’s doing something incredibly risky *cough*goingintoBruno’sroom*cough*

She’s the chillest person next to Félix and her mom so she doesn’t have many outbursts.

She likes to pet Parce as if he was a normal housecat. He likes it in return

She also used to be close with Isabela when they were younger, but grew apart when Luisa worked in the town more

Antonio

He’s so gonna be like the Casual Geographic guy when he gets older.

He’s careful to keep the jaguar Mirabel made him away from the real animals. He’s put a serious ban on anyone but him from playing with.

Those don’t listen get punished. Nothing serious, just a “harsh” scolding

Really it’s just him saying “Bad _, BAD.”

He rides the river dolphin in his room as well.

Sometimes he makes little shows with his animal friends to entertain his family

Mirabel is without a doubt his most favorite cousin ever and gets jealous of the time she spends with Camilo

He insists on tagging along when he feels he hasn’t spent enough time with Mirabel

She has special access to his room at most times and all animals must be on best behavior. Not gonna lie, she feels like a certain kind of princess when she’s in there.

He and Camilo like to roughhouse on occasion. Pepa doesn’t like it much but Félix is like “they’re just boys querida”

He’s very respectable to Bruno because of how much he loves and cares for the rats in Casita. So he has some special place in his room too, just not like Mirabel

He takes suggestions the rats have for new stories and passes them on to Bruno. Whether they’re improvements or not is left up for debate.

He’s guilty of having his animals sneak some food out of the kitchen at night. He also uses them as spies around Encanto. Hey, when you have an legion of animals at your side might as well make them useful.

Speaking of useful, he naturally found a place as town animal whisperer, which makes him really useful with farmhands and other people who greatly depend on animals. Julieta comes with if it’s something medical.

With their powers combined, they become the town’s vet

Unfortunately they do come across those who don’t care for their animals much, then wonder why they’re sick. He keeps these people on a list

You don’t want to be on the list

He takes really misused/sick/abandoned animals back to his room for special care, and releases them if they want to leave. But few do.

He still eats meat and isn’t bothered by animals being eaten because HELLO. NATURE DUDE. IT’S ALREADY CRAZY.

He just has issues of animals not being cared for before they’re slaughtered, or if they are killed inhumanely and suffer. That sort of thing.

Like Dolores, he can sometimes hear...unsavory things.

His parents were mortified when he learned how reproduction worked on his own. Pepa dang near had him permanent ear muffs.

Not all animals get along with Antonio per se. They don’t hate him necessarily, they just don’t all follow along with him

He tried asking the bees in Encanto to leave his uncle Agustín alone, but they denied him. It’s proven to be a lengthy exercise in diplomacy and patience.

[fanmoose12]

take me out (on a date)

Hange decides to set Levi up on some dates.

It doesn't go as well as she hopes.

"Levi!"

Hange bursts into his office, not waiting for an invitation to come in. Levi wouldn't have given it to her, but when Hange has ever listened to him?

The door bangs thunderously as she throws it closed, and then she moves further into the room, grabbing a chair and twisting it backwards to sit down. The grin on her face is positively mental, and at the back of his mind Levi wonders what exactly is wrong with him, because that smile doesn't faze him in slightest.

"I'm working, four-eyes," he grumbles, closing a tab with a video analysis of some movie he had never seen. "I don't have time for your shit."

"You'll want to hear it, Levi!" her voice is several octaves higher than Levi can tolerate, but Hange promptly ignores his angry scowl. "It will change your life!"

Last time Hange decided to change his life, his eyebrows got bleached.

Understandably, he isn't looking forward to another life changing experience, especially if it'll orchestrated by Hange.

But she doesn't seem to care if he's looking forward to it or not. She shoots up, almost sending poor chair tumbling to the floor, and starts pacing around the room.

"So! I must admit this thought had come to me completely out of sudden. I was in the middle of breakfast, you see, or, no- Wait! I was talking to Nifa! Or watching that new tv-show, you know the one where—"

"Four-eyes," Levi grits when his head starts spinning after watching her move back and forth across the room. "Get to the fucking point."

Hange stops for a second, to flash him an amused smile. "A little impatient, are we? I can understand it, yes... After all, what I'm offering—"

"Four-eyes!"

"Alright, alright!" Hange throws her hands into the air and resumes her pacing. Absentmindedly, Levi wonders how much coffee she has already consumed this morning.

"I guess, what I was doing doesn't really matter. What matters is what I've been thinking about. And I've been thinking about you."

Oh. This gets Levi's attention. It grips it tightly and doesn't let go. Here he thought Hange was going on about another experiment of hers or some other, equally annoying shit, but she has been thinking about him... Levi straightens his back and leans in, watching Hange more intently now.

"So I started thinking about you and it got me thinking, you know, about other people and stuff. And I know what you're going to say!" she furrows her eyebrows in expression Levi guesses should resemble his. Hange does a very poor job, though. He is almost sure he doesn't look that ridiculous. "I'm not people's person, four-eyes, I don't care about them," she says in as low voice as she can manage.

Levi is inclined to agree. He's not a people's person. He is however, a person's person. And his person is currently measuring his office with quick, jerky steps.

"But I think you're a bit wrong. Maybe, you don't like other people, but there are people who like you, so I thought, well, everyone deserve love, and you deserve it above everyone else, because you're so kind and very sweet, and really, really handsome, so I thought, well..." Hange turns to look at him, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Levi takes a sharp breath. This is it, he realizes. Hange is going to confess to him, a completely not pathetic crush that he was harboring for almost a decade now is finally going to be reciprocated.

His own office isn't the place he thought it was going to happen, but it's fine, he can work with that. He's having feelings for the craziest person he knows, so, really, a little bit of oddity is more than expected.

Levi is already thinking how should he answer that confession - should he tell Hange he feels the same or would a simple kiss suffice, when Hange moves to his desk. She places her hands onto the wooden surface and looms over him with a wide, excited smile. Levi's lips pull in a smile of his own.

"That's why, Levi," she says. "I will help you to find your love! Or, well," Hange adds, while Levi is too busy having a goddamn stroke because why was he, oh why, was he so naive in thinking that Hange would act normal for once? That she would stop being so oblivious and dumb? That she would clean those stupid glasses of hers and finally see what she's doing to him? But Hange doesn't see, even now, she's too blinded by her new, thrilling idea to notice his disappointed, fallen face. "If that doesn't work, at least, it’ll help you to get laid! That stick up your ass, it got so deep, I don't think it's healthy."

Hange starts laughing, too amused by her own stupid joke, and Levi thinks, if that's who you've fallen for? Then you've fallen so low, Levi...

But what can he do? He's fallen and he doesn't think he will be able to get up.

But with a help of someone else, with a strong, steady hand he'll be able to get up from the bottom he's currently buried at.

The idea is as stupid as Hange is, and it's as hopeless as his crush on her, but what he has to lose now?

***

That's how he finds himself in a small Chinese restaurant with Hange sitting across from him. He'd enjoy his evening, he'd entertain the idea that it almost looks like a date, if Hange wasn't wearing such serious expression, her eyes scanning him up and down as though he's a new mouse she decides to experiment at.

"Alright," she declares, turning around to get her backpack. She pulls out a notebook, and with a sense of growing dread, Levi sees her open it at the page that is already full with notes.

"After our little conversation, I asked around a bit..." she mutters, not looking up from a notebook. "I found a couple of friends who are single, but let's start with someone we both know for now..."

The feeling of dread is almost overwhelming now, because Levi is sure what will follow is going to be one of the worst conversations in his life.

"So! Let's start, shall we?" she grips the pen in her fingers tightly and turns the entirety of her attention to him. "What do you think about Mike?"

Levi chokes on a soup he was eating.

"What the fuck, four-eyes?" he hisses. "He's huge!"

Hange pouts. "You don't have to take it straight to bed, you know…"

His face burns and, as the images of him and that giant together enters his mind, Levi wants nothing more than to gag. He kicks Hange under the table in retaliation, making her yelp and rub her ankle.

"He's twice my height, you perverted dipshit. I would look like a brat next to him."

"Not one for daddy's kink, eh?" Hange mutters with that insufferable grin of hers, and Levi kicks her again. "Fine, fine, could have just said no. Mike was actually weirded out by my offer too, I just asked to see if he's your type or not."

"He's not," Levi grits, furious, because his type is sitting right across him in ridiculous oversized shirt and dirty glasses. How low has he fallen...

"I guess I can cross Erwin out as well. Alright!" Hange chirps. "What about Moblit?"

At that, Levi's mood almost lifts. It's good to know his feelings are not the only ones that completely go over Hange's head.

He can just imagine it too, both of them - he and Moblit - getting drunk in some shitty bar, united by their shared infatuation with irritating, absurdly oblivious four-eyed weirdo.

The image conjured by his mind is so pathetic, it almost sends him into a feat of self-pity.

"No," he tells Hange curtly, and she crosses another name.

"Alright, what about Gelgar?"

"He's a drunkard. Pass."

"Nanaba?"

"I've known her since childhood, she’s like a sister. Pass."

"Lynn?"

He doesn't remember who the fuck Lynn is, and so hesitates to give an answer. Hange takes it a sign of agreement, and giggles, writing something down in the notebook. "Got it... What about Gunter?"

"He's my subordinate," Levi reminds.

"And engaged," Hange winks. "But that wasn't what stopped you? Ah, you're naughty one, Ackerman."

And then, to his horror, Hange adds another note.

"And, last but not the least... What do you think about Nifa?"

"Um..."

"So another hit, eh?" Hange smiles so earnestly and brightly, Levi can't just find it in himself to disappoint her.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Hange winks again, closing the noteboor. "I'll analyze the data and set you up on a perfect date. Don't worry, Levi," Hange leans over the small table and covers his hand with hers. You've got to be kidding me, Levi thinks furiously, as his heart starts doing lambada in his ribcage. "I'll find someone you would like."

Look in the mirror, idiot, Levi wants to say, but lets out only a short annoyed grunt.

***

The next day, Erwin and Mike join him at lunch.

"Heard Hange decided to set you up on some dates," Erwin says, his head tilted and eyes curious.

Levi takes a mouthful of salad he brought from home, and nods.

"It's tough, man," Mike remarks.

"Yeah," Levi agrees, because, really, what else is there to say?

"It's interesting," Erwin declares, intrigued like he's reading about some obscure phenomenon or watches a discovery channel, and not observes the confusing relationship between two of his friends. "Something good may come out of it. Come, Mike," he stands up and Mike follows. "There is an urgent matter we need to discuss."

"Ah," Mike grins rather enigmatically. He shots Levi a sly look. "Don't let me down, Levi," he salutes him and then both of them are gone.

Levi's lunch is peaceful and uneventful for another minute.

And then Hange shows up and his chances at peace and quiet are promptly thrown out of the window.

***

The first person Hange sets him up with is Lynn. Levi still doesn't remember her, but decides to just roll with it. He knows her name and Hange had vaguely described her in the midst of her gushing and her reassurances that Levi would like her so much.

On the night of the supposed date, however, Hange shuffles inside his apartment, completely crestfallen. Levi entertains a thought - maybe, Hange had realized what a mistake she's doing, but then she falls on his coach, hand over face, and announces, "Lynn canceled your date. Apparently she didn't really know who you are," well, that makes two of them. "And today she saw you and she said you're not really her type," she sniffles, mumbling, "I'm so sorry, Levi..."

"It's fine," he says, and really, it is. He's actually relieved that the date is no longer happening.

Hange has a different opinion, of course.

"But Levi! I ruined your evening! You got all dressed up and now I've ruined it all." Hange shoots up to her feet, her face determined. "I'll make it better," she vows. "C'mon," she tugs at his arm. "I'll take you to the movies!"

*** Evening with Hange is so much better than a date with some Lynn could ever be.

They go to the dinner, eat horrible, greasy fries and down it all with disgustingly sweet milkshakes. They head to the movies next and Hange picks some dumb, action movie that Levi hates and she loves.

It’s quite boring, that movie, so Levi entertains himself by keeping his hand in a popcorn bucket, waiting for his and Hange's fingers to brush.

His heart races every time they do.

It’s almost a perfect evening, the only grievance Levi has is that the movie ends before he could throw his arm over Hange's shoulders.

But this little shortcoming is all but forgotten, when Hange offers to walk him home and then wraps her jacket over him.

Levi thinks about kissing her, about standing on his tiptoes and pressing his lips to her, when Hange declares, rather happily, "I found you another date, Levi! This one will show up, don't you worry!"

And the she bounces away, crushing all of his hopes and dreams.

***

His first real date is a man Hange describes as her university friend.

"Onyakopon is great!" she says. "He is getting his master's degree in aerodynamics and he's so funny! Handsome, too!"

"That's why you're undressing me right now?" Levi points out to her hands that pop open one, then another button on his shirt. Not that he minds, really, he wouldn't say no to Hange undressing him, but not before he has to go on a date with another person.

"You dress like an old man, Levi," she shakes her head, smoothing down the fine fabric. "You need to show them you're not just pretty face, but a rocking bod as well!"

Levi's face catches fire as Hange winks at him, and not for the first time, he wonders why the hell Hange has come up with this whole setting him up with someone shit, if she thinks he looks hot. Is his personality that repulsive to her? But then why she constantly hangs out with him?

Sometimes Hange is as easy to read as a children's book. And sometimes he can't understand her at all.

"Go get him, tiger!" she ruffles his hair and wishes him luck.

Sighing, Levi leaves his apartment.

***

At first, everything is awkward.

Onyakopon asks him questions - what is he doing for a living, what are his hobbies, and Levi gives him short, concrete answers, adding a weak "and you?".

Things pick up after Levi asks what Onyakopon is studying, and the evening is saved from being a complete disaster, when Onyakopon launches into a tale of why he loves aerodynamics so much.

He's handsome, Hange wasn't wrong with that. And he's passionate - his eyes are burning and his hands are flying around as he explains to Levi one concept or the other. Levi understands why Hange is friends with him, they're united by love for knowledge, although Onyakopon is lacking all of Hange's eccentricities.

The conversation shifts after Onyakopon asks him how he knows Hange.

"Co-workers," Levi mumbles, and adds a reluctant, "And you?"

Onyakopon's face breaks into a smile that is even brighter than the one he was sporting while talking about his studies. He starts talking about his and Hange's time in college, how much fun they were having in the lab, and Levi realizes that Onyakopon is yet another member of the pitiful I have a crush on Hange Zoe club and yet another victim of her obliviousness.

"Sorry," Onyakopon chuckles, hand on his neck. "I've got... carried away."

"No problem," Levi answers. "I understand."

"Hange is really one of a kind, right?"

"Unfortunately," Levi says, and both of them share a long, knowing look.

Onyakopon, all in all, isn't that bad. But when they say their goodbyes, there is no promise of another date. There is not even a vague "let's do this again sometime". But if Levi would ever find himself in too deep, when his stupid crush would make him go nearly insane, he knows just the guy to call and get drunk at a shitty bar. Onyakopon would be a great addition to Levi's and Moblit's pity party.

***

Hange is saddened when he tells her that there won't be a second date, but she is not yet ready to give up.

So she sets him up with a person who is very different from Onyakopon. Hange must have forgotten about his rule of no giant blondes because it's the perfect description of Yelena, who is, well, a giant blonde. She also looks like a psycho and even Hange warns him to be more careful with that one.

Ah, well. At least, she isn't in love with Hange. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Hange dated my ex," Yelena explains, skipping hellos, how are yous and other pleasantries. She is too straightforward even for Levi. She’s also incredibly intense. And not in an inspiring way like Erwin is or charming way how Hange is. Yelena is intense in a scary, uncomfortable way. Like a serial killer. "Now I want to date hers."

"I'm not Hange's ex," Levi frowns, wondering where Hange had found that weirdo. "What kind of person sets their ex up on a date?" he adds, feeling that it should be voiced out.

"I don't know," Yelena shrugs. "Probably the one who doesn't really care about that sort of thing. So you're not her ex?" she asks once again.

"No."

"Oh, alright. Good evening then," she raises up from a table, towering over Levi. "Fist steak here is really delicious," she says. "You should try it."

And then she is gone.

Levi stays and orders a steak. It really is good.

Just as he finishes it, he texts Hange,

this one was a psycho. she left after first five minutes

Hange replies with a crying emoji and vows to do better.

***

His next date is with Nifa, and somehow, probably because they already know each other, this date is the most enjoyable yet.

Nifa feeds him gossips about each member of their office, and some of them are actually funny enough to get a chuckle out of him. And when she tells him about that time when Erwin got his pants ripped right at his ass and Nifa walked in on Mike trying to sew them together, Levi loses it to the point of choking on his drink.

When he walks Nifa home, she gives him a tight hug.

"I had so much fun today..." she says, fumbling with the straps of her bag.

"But?" Levi softly prompts.

"But I actually agreed to this date because Hange had asked me. You see we have this little thing with Moblit..."

Ah. So even Moblit is moving on? Lucky bastard.

"I wish you the best then," he murmurs.

"Thank you," Nifa raises on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "And Levi? Hange will get around."

He doubts she will, but he’s thankful for the kind words all the same.

***

What follows after that is the worst date of Levi's life.

Zeke is the guy Hange dated in college. The relationship lasted for no more than two weeks, yet Zeke seems immensely proud of his little achievement, mentioning it at every opportunity.

If that wasn't irritating enough, Zeke turns out to be arrogant, pompous and sneering jerk.

Levi accidentally pours his wine at Zeke's white shirt, and Zeke retaliates by kicking Levi's sheen when he goes to the bathroom, almost sending him face-first into the restaurant's carpet floor.

This almost leads to a fistfight that quickly gets resolved by Hange who appears out of nowhere. She calls Zeke a moron and sends him home. She turns to Levi then, apologizing for Zeke and promises to make it up to him. Levi doesn't really need it, just watching Zeke get scolded like that was more than enough to right any grievance he could have had, but then Hange offers to order takeout and watch movie at her place, and Levi thinks he's allowed to feel a little slighted.

The evening ends with Hange fast asleep on a couch and tucked into his side, and Levi wonders if he should agree to another date with Zeke, just so Hange could make it up to him again.

***

"She's cute, isn't she?" Hange shows him a picture of dark-haired, smiling woman, and Levi nods, absentmindedly. The woman is objectively pretty, but her appearance stirs up nothing inside him. "It's Pieck, she's great! Do you like her?"

"She's fine," he mutters, his attention more on the papers in front of him than on that Pieck and their upcoming date. The name is vaguely familiar, but Levi puts that thought aside, deciding to tackle it some other time.

"Then I'll tell her you're free on Saturday!" Hange announces and after swiftly ruffling his hair, she's out of the office, as spontaneously as she came.

*** Pieck Finger is even prettier in person. She has long dark hair and deep big eyes. She uses a walking stick and she's dressed in a colorful sundress.

They're slowly making their way through a museum, and Pieck quietly tells him about different parts of exhibition.

They've walked through two rooms, when Pieck apologizes and asks if they can sit down for a while. Levi leads her to the nearest bench and Pieck shoots him a grateful smile before sitting down.

"Pieck," she offers him her hand. "Hange's ex."

Ah, so that's how he knows her name.

Levi takes her hand in his, squeezing it just a little too tight. He doesn't know Pieck, never talked to her before their date, but she's Hange's ex. Levi can't help but dislike her just for that.

"Levi," he answers, letting go of her hand.

"Oh, I know," Pieck grins, whipping her hair. "Hange told me about you. A lot."

"Oh, right. Before our date."

Pieck chuckles at that, and then turns to the painting in front of them.

"Are you an artist?" Levi asks, taking note of the way her eyes trace every bit of the painting.

"Not really," she says. "But coming here calms me down. Do you have something like that, Levi? Something that calms you down?"

Cleaning, he wants to say. A good cup of tea, he wants to add. But then he remembers his last date, the hot rage he felt just by looking at Zeke. Tea didn't help him then. Neither did cleaning. It was Hange who came and conquered the storm inside him.

The revelation shouldn't be a revelation at all, he knows Hange for a decade now, he also knows just how important she is to him. Yet this discovery still gives him a pause, and it takes him some time to come back to his senses.

"Hange is something else, isn't she?" Pieck's gentle voice brings him back to reality. "She's like... an exquisite painting. She has the same uncanny ability to just draw people in."

Levi doesn't quite know what to say to this, but Pieck doesn't seem to expect an answer.

"But like some paintings, she can be really chaotic. She's too bright, she always feels too much... Don't fault her for having troubles with sorting it all out."

"I don't—" he wants to protest, but Pieck's knowing look silences him.

"We've dated for almost a year," Pieck says. "It's been fun and I was in love. I was also the one who broke up with her. Do you know why?"

Levi shakes his head. Hange never told him.

"And about me? Has she ever talked about me?"

"No," Levi answers. "She did not."

"Huh," Pieck hums, gripping her stick to slowly stand up. Levi thinks he offended her, but when Pieck looks at him again, there is a soft smile on her lips. She reaches out, lays a hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"And yet, she used to talk my ears off about you."

She leaves a second later, and Levi is too stunned to follow after her and ask what did her words mean.

***

The next date will be the last one, Levi decides. He's getting tired of pretending that he does it in attempt to move on from Hange, because it clearly isn't working.

"That's Petra," Hange explains as she shows him yet another photo. The girl in picture is attractive, and, what's more important, not even vaguely familiar, and that is certainly relieving. Maybe, this one isn't Hange's ex. "She's my cousin," Hange continues, confirming his guess. "Well, she's a very, very distant one, but cousin all the same. She was at my last year's birthday party, do you remember her?"

"Not really," he confesses. All he remembers about that day is being drunk on wine and on feeling of Hange's arm around his shoulders, as she dragged him from one guest to another.

"I don't really remember if I introduced the two of you, but she likes you. She was staring at you during the whole party, she says," she was? Levi didn't notice. Then again, he most probably was too busy staring at the cousin of Hange's cousin to see anyone else. "So, yeah, Petra is, um, excited about this date."

Hange doesn't look him in the eyes as she speaks and she fiddles with sleeve of her shirt almost anxiously. It makes Levi wonder - if Petra likes him so, why haven't Hange introduced them earlier?

"You will like her, I think," Hange says, strangely quiet. "I gave her your number, she'll call you in the evening. Em," she stands up from the desk and pats his shoulders. "Good luck, I guess," she gives him a smile that seems forced and doesn't reach her eyes.

Hange leaves his office quietly without looking back even once.

***

They go to the park. They walk around and Petra gathers flowers as she talks about her hobbies and life. Levi learns that she is a school teacher and she's good at violin. She tends to her old father and she dreams of going to Paris.

She is ridiculously adorable - petite and soft-spoken, she looks like a disney princess, the type that attracts butterflies on her fingers and joins in on birds' songs every morning.

Levi likes her, he thinks. Well, he certainly doesn't dislike her, which already makes Petra stand out from all of his previous dates. And he can work with that, has to work with that, because otherwise he'd have to admit his defeat, he'd have to surrender to the knowledge that he'll be in love with Hange Zoe until the end of his pitiful life.

Levi isn't ready to wave the white flag just yet, so he asks Petra on another date, and then another.

It's going well, he tells Hange and expects squeals, smug looks or, at least, sincere congratulations.

Instead Hange mumbles, "I'm happy for you, Levi," and doesn't ask about Petra again.

Levi tries not to think about it, tries not to think about Hange, because he has someone else now, he has Petra and he has to commit to her now. Maybe, it will help him get over Hange.

And yet, his heart still aches for her and her only.

Still, Levi doesn't give up.

***

Every weekend, he asks Petra on a date, inviting her to a new place each time.

He makes sure that every place they visit is not a place he had ever visited with Hange. It proves to be a hard task very quickly, during their many years of friendship Hange has dragged him to almost every curious place in their city, but Levi manages.

He searches online and asks his friends and coworkers.

"What the fuck, Levi?" Mike looks almost angry as Levi asks him if he knows a good restaurant he can take Petra to. "Don't you and—"

Erwin stops him before he lets out whatever he wanted to say.

He gives Levi a tight-lipped smile and promises to send a few suggestions after work.

However, despite all his efforts, most probably, because he really is a hopeless fool, Levi just can't seem to stop thinking about Hange.

They go to a theater, and as Petra gushes about superb acting, intricate story parallels and other little things Levi doesn't quite see, he can't get rid of Hange's voice in his head that picks up every silly detail and makes a devastating joke about it.

They attend a concert of some local indie group and their songs are just horrible enough to make him miss Hange's weird music taste.

They visit the city's aquarium, Petra is dressed in a lovely blue skirt and sea green top, but Levi doesn't even notice. As he wanders around the aquarium, watching dolphins, sharks and medusas, all he can think about is damn, four-eyes would have loved it here.

*** It's their fifth date and Levi walks Petra home. The night chill is in the air and the winds blows smoothly, ruffling Petra's auburn hair and making her huff adorably as she fruitlessly tries to keep her haircut in order.

Levi wonders if he should lend her his jacket and remembers the time Hange did the same for him. That starts a new chain of thought - his interactions with Hange in the recent weeks, or, rather a disappointing lack of them. Hange doesn't come to disturb his quiet lunches anymore and she doesn't drape herself over his table, pestering him with stupid jokes and annoying puns.

Perhaps, it is for the best. Perhaps, it will make moving on even easier, but Levi doesn't want easier. He wants his best friend back. Even if she doesn't share his feelings.

"Levi?" Petra's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. It's gentle and quiet, like a summer breeze. It's drastically different from Hange's loud, booming one that resembles a thunder. Levi winces as soon the comparison enters his mind.

You're trying to move on, you idiot.

"Levi," Petra repeats, clutching the sleeve of his jacket to stir him away from a sidewalk. "I think we need to talk."

Oh, Levi knows that tone. It's a tone that says there is nothing wrong with you, but…

It's a tone that says it's their fifth and last date.

"I'm sorry," he tells Petra as soon as she seats them at a nearby bench. He really is sorry. He's sorry for wanting but not actually trying hard enough to move on. Petra deserves better than that. Deserves someone who will love her for who she is and not as a replacement for someone he can never have.

"It's alright," Petra smiles, because she's amazing like that. Because she's a kind person Levi never deserved. "I understand. There is someone else, right?" she gingerly lays her hand on his chest, right above his heart. "Someone that lives here."

Levi nods jerkily, moving his eyes to stare at the dark street. The sympathy in Petra's eyes is almost too much to bear.

"I should have known..." Petra chuckles, shakes her head. "When I first saw you, at that party, I was instantly taken away. You looked so handsome, with that sharp jaw and piercing eyes, I couldn't stop staring. I kept trying to catch your gaze, wishing that you would look back and be just as struck by me as I was of you. But you had eyes only for one person, right?"

There is no judgement, no anger in her voice. Petra sounds rather wistful, and Levi thinks that he'd rather endure her bitterness than have her kindness.

"Petra, I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't be," she says, placing a hand on his cheek. She caresses his skin, turning his face to look at her. She's smiling, so sweet and breathtakingly pretty. "It wasn't fair of me, to wish for something that wasn't mine. I saw the two of you, only a blind wouldn't see how devoted you are to my cousin...” and yet, Levi can’t help, but think bitterly, there is someone who still doesn’t see. “Hange is so brilliant, so smart, but sometimes she doesn't notice what's right in front of her. You have to show her, Levi, give a little push in the right direction," Petra pauses, presses her lips to his cheek. "Just don't give up yet. I want you both to be happy."

"Petra..." he touches her hand on his cheek, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for everything."

"I have my fair share of fun," she giggles. Petra stands up, smoothing her skirt. She turns to look at him, "By the way, Levi, do you have a brother?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Only a balding, annoying uncle who is twice your age."

"Ah," Petra's face falls. "Guess the world isn't lucky enough to have another one of you. But who knows?" she grins. "Maybe, I'll find someone even better."

As Levi watches her walk away, skipping between cars and people with an easy spring in her step, he wishes that Petra - the girl who looks just like a disney princess - will find her prince and get her happily ever after.

***

Levi pushes the door of his apartment complex, feeling spent and exhausted, with Petra's words still weighing heavily over his head.

Maybe, he should take her advice? Maybe, he should tell Hange how he feels, just to let it out of his chest.

He contemplates if he should call her or send her a text.

hey, hange, your cousin just broke up with me, because i'm hopelessly in love with you. i have beer and leftover pizza. want to hang out?

He quickly pushes the idea away. It'd be too pathetic even for him.

Besides, what if Hange isn't at home? What if she isn't alone and is on another date or already in someone else's arms?

Levi doesn't think he can take it. At least, not today.

As he shuffles up the stairs, he looks up to see the familiar hallway that leads to his apartment. Everything is as it always is - fluorescent light that flicks on and off, large trashcan littered with cigarette buts, a window that stands broken for almost a month now, and a body sitting by his doorstep.

Levi stops.

The body is definitely a new addition.

Tall, lanky and adorned with a mop of messy hair, Levi recognizes it instantly.

He quickens his step, worry seizing his throat.

What Hange is doing here? Is she ill? Is she—

"Leviii! Here you are!"

Lopsided grin, unfocused gaze and glasses that are steadily slipping down her nose, Levi doesn't need to see a bottle of wine clutched in her hand to know that Hange is drunk.

"The fuck you're doing here, four-eyes?" he grunts, taking the bottle away.

"I came to see you," she slurs, and it's a testament of how far he is gone, because even now, he finds Hange incredibly endearing.

"Why?" he pinches the bridge of his nose, an almost overwhelming feeling of I can't fucking do this right now washing over him.

"I wanted to—" Hange falters, and her grin disappears. "Doesn't matter," she mutters and attempts to stand up. "I should go."

She sways on her feet and trips, almost falls, but Levi doesn't let her. He catches her in the very last moment, putting his arms around her waist.

Hange's hands are around his neck, and she doesn't look him in the eyes. She stares at his left cheek instead.

"You really like her, huh?" she murmurs. "I'm happy, Levi."

Hange doesn't look happy at all. Her lips are pressed together, tightly, and there are tears in her eyes.

Levi doesn't understand.

He presses a hand to his cheek, to the spot Hange was looking at.

His fingers come away red.

Oh, it hits him. Petra's lipstick.

Was that the thing that upset Hange?

"C'mon," he pushes Hange upwards, despite her feeble protests. He doesn't have the energy to deal with it right now, but he can't just leave Hange here or let her go home by herself. "Let's get you inside."

"No, Levi," Hange fruitlessly attempts to push him away, but Levi just tightens his hold on her and presses her to his side.

"Don't squirm so much," he admonishes, struggling to get to his key. "Where did you get so drunk anyway?"

During their many years of friendship, Levi has seen drunk Hange more times that he could count. But he had never seen her like this. Drunk Hange can be loud, vulgar, batshit insane. But she's not a sad drunk, never were. And the things she just said, the melancholy that accompanied them... Levi doesn't know what to make of it.

He decides not to acknowledge it, after all, Hange is drunk, even if she acts more strangely than usual, and so he focuses on getting her inside his apartment without letting her fall down or hit the wall.

It proves to be a more complicated task than anticipated because Hange keeps trying to get away from him.

Levi mutters a curse. As if he would let her.

After they finally pass the threshold, a tougher battle ensues. He leans Hange against the wall and gets on his knees, attempting to take off her shoes while simultaneously keeping her from falling on her ass.

After that is finally done, he drags Hange in the living room and deposits her on a couch.

"Are you sober enough to take a shower?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

Hange confirms it by shaking her head.

On one hand, Levi can always shower her himself, he has done it before. On the other... he's not drunk enough to do it.

"What a mess," he sighs and goes to bring her a blanket and a glass of water.

"So?" he drapes the blanket over her and crouches next to her face. "What happened?"

"I was out with Nanaba..." she begins, hand thrown over her face. "And then Mike and Erwin showed up..."

Ah, so that's who he needs to blame for all of it.

"And they asked me where you were and I told them about your date and Petra and..." Hange lets out a sound, something between a sniffle and sob. "And then they ambushed me! Mike said that I'm an idiot, Erwin told that I acted surprisingly unwise, which is... Have you ever noticed that sometimes Erwin talks like he's a character from Jane Austen's novels? Like he's Darcy or some other shit? It's irritating, I bet he does it on purpose, to appear more... more sophisticated."

"Hange," he flicks her forehead lightly, chucking to himself. "Get to the point."

"Right, right," she nods. "And then Nanaba... Nanaba smacked my head! She called me all sorts of names—" Hange raised her fingers, counting. "A moron, a fool, simpleton, dummy, an oblivious ass and a jerk. She then said I'm blind and unobservant."

Well... Nanaba wasn't wrong. Levi needs to thank her for that speech of hers. He couldn't have said it better.

"I'm not any of these things, am I, Levi?"

Hange turns to look at him now, her large eyes pulling him in, drowning him in their endless depth. She moves her hand, laying her palm on his cheek. The gesture reminds him of his conversation with Petra, but his feelings are different now. With Petra he felt ashamed and guilty.

With Hange, he feels confused and enamored.

She's drunk, he reminds himself. She doesn't know what she's doing, you're taking advantage of her.

He needs to leave her alone, to keep his distance before Hange gets her wits back.

"She's so orderly, huh?" Hange whispers, caressing his cheek. "It's your fifth date, and she only kisses you on a cheek."

Levi breathes out her name, unsure of everything now. What Hange is talking about can't possibly be true.

"She's so good, right? Petra is pretty and sweet, and she's not crazy like me. She doesn't annoy you like I do, and she's—"

She's not you, Levi wants to say. Instead he presses a hand over her mouth, silencing Hange before another stupid thing comes out.

"Stop this, four-eyes. You don't know what you're talking about. You're drunk."

"I am," Hange agrees. "Do you want to know why? Because I fucked up. Because I lost you and it's my fault that I did. Because the thought of you with someone else is so painful that I decided to drink until I forget," she chuckles, a broken, hollow sound, and raises her head to stare at the ceiling. "And now here we are."

Here they are...

"Nanaba was right," Levi curtly declares. "You're an idiot, Hange, the biggest one I had seen."

"Eh?"

"Do you know why it didn't work out with all the people you set me up with? Why it didn't work out with Petra? Why it wouldn't work out with anyone else?"

Hange opens her mouth, but Levi silences her once again.

"I'll let you think about it. You can tell me your answer in the morning."

Before Hange can protest, he plucks off her glasses and wraps the blanket tighter around her.

"Water is on a coffee table," he tells and heads to the bed.

It was one hell of a day. And something tells him - another horrible one is already waiting for him.

***

When he wakes up in the morning, it's to the pleasant smell of fried eggs and freshly brewed tea.

Cautiously, with last night’s events still fresh in his mind, he gets up and follows the smell to his kitchen.

There, he finds Hange with her hair still wet from a shower and dressed in his t-shirt and shorts.

Levi takes a second to take it all in - the sight of Hange in his clothes, the ease with which she moves around his kitchen, as though she belongs here, in his home. It's a sight he would never forget, and a sight he longs to see every morning, until the end of his days.

Hange notices him a moment later. She waves at him, grinning, and beckons him to take a seat.

"Good morning," she sings, far too cheerful for a person who was too drunk to stand last night.

She sets two plates and two cups on a table, and sits down next to him.

"How did you sleep?" she asks through a mouthful of her breakfast. "Good, I hope?"

"It was fine," he shrugs, attempting to mask his unease. Hange looks at him... strangely. "And you?"

"Mm, just a few hours and then I couldn't really sleep," ah, that explains it all then. Levi guesses Hange's cup isn't filled with tea. He wonders how much coffee she had already consumed. "I did something, by the way, to thank you for letting me crush at your place."

"You mean breakfast?"

"Well, that too, but no, another thing." Hange straightens out suddenly, shooting him a rueful grin. Her eyes, however, are nervous. "I've found you another date!"

Levi's face falls, but Hange either doesn't notice or doesn't care. She keeps on talking.

"She's something, Levi, super smart, downright hilarious and is extremely, unbelievably sexy. What's better, she's completely crazy about you. Like, it's actually embarrassing how much she likes you. Talks and thinks about you all the time, considers you the best thing in her life, well, like I said, she's crazy. She will lose it completely if you agree."

For a long moment, Levi is silent. He pushes the food around the plate, keeping his face down. And his smile away from Hange's eyes.

Then, when he physically can feel Hange's nervousness, he finally speaks.

"I guess, I can go on a date or two. See if we're compatible or not."

"Mm, I think you're quite compatible."

"I think so too."

It gets quiet for a moment, and then, because Hange is the biggest idiot he had ever met, she leans close to him and whispers, "I was talking about myself. You realized it, right? I'm asking you on a date. Just you know, I don't want you to misunderstand something or—"

Hange is insufferable. Impossible. Infuriating. Absolutely breathtaking, even in the moments of her greatest stupidity.

And kissing before the first date is unseemly. Outrageous, as Erwin would have put it. Levi’s mother didn’t raise him like that.

But Levi does it anyway, because, as he finds out - it's the best way to shut Hange up.

The kiss is quick, chaste, just a momentary touch to the corner of her lips.

Luckily, it’s enough to make her halt mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open slightly.

Levi rather likes her dazed expression.

“I have one condition,” he remarks casually, returning to his breakfast.

“Anything,” Hange promises, and Levi smirks at the slight breathlessness in her voice.

“No more setting me up with other people.”

“Oh,” she laughs, and because she’s utterly impossible he presses a kiss to his lips too. “Yeah, I can definitely work with that.”

Well, Levi can work with that too.

[bigskydreaming]

If you were editor of Nightwing's book ever since at least the start of Rebirth to today and you were given free reign, what would your story mandates?

Oh no, this is dangerous. LOL. Hmm, I have no idea what to shoot for here, so I'll try to keep it to ten. That's reasonable right? Ten is good. Yeah. Is fine.

Okay, so, in no particular order:

1) Let Dick be competent 101. None of this him having to play hype man for every other character to pop up in HIS title bullshit. Nope. That's not what they're there for. He's the lead man, LET HIM BE THE LEADING MAN. Like sure, everyone has their areas of expertise, he doesn't need or have to be the best at everything, blah blah blah.....but its about the nuance. All of that is kinda lip service because the thing is, you don't go into MOST comic books and NEED to be reminded of that because the lead characters of those books are all constantly getting saved or shown up or chastised by every guest star in their books, you know? This is a very weird, very niche phenomenon very specific to Dick's character, and I'm super over it. I'm here to read about the guy who has literally been doing this longer than most superheroes twice his age. The guy who's been doing this since before he hit double digits. The born acrobat. The destined ultimate warrior or whatever of Gotham's Ornithological Society Of Murder and Pretentiousness. Gimme that guy. And that guy doesn't need to be 'humbled' every other page, because the thing is, he's not some egomaniac to begin with so the everpresent need to humble him doesn't actually come off as humbling! It just comes off as pandering and not even to actual fans of the actual character, so its like.....wyd DC.

2) Let other people take responsibility for their own crap with Dick rather than always just expecting a mea culpa from him. I'm so unbelievably tired of the words I'm sorry from Dick. I love personal accountability, so I never thought I'd have to say this about a character, but enoooooough. They have made it completely in character for this dude to apologize to everyone ELSE for being brainwashed, getting amnesia, being KILLED, like.....the amount of things he's groveled for forgiveness for when he didn't actually do a damn thing wrong or worse yet, was the ACTUAL victim of is like....pretty damn staggering. And meanwhile, there's nary a peep of apology from the people who regularly insult or belittle him, get physically violent with him, take advantage of him or take him for granted, etc, etc, etc. Its entirely too one-sided and imbalanced, and the pendulum needs to swing the other direction, like YESTERDAY, and in a fairly big way, IMO.

3) None of this Baby's First Social Justice Awakening 101 crap. I'm sorry, but no. Especially not when you go out of your way to acknowledge that Dick is Romani, only to then turn around and act like he's only JUST had his eyes opened to an awareness of like, classism and poverty and the real struggles people face day to day? Sorry not sorry, but especially for other white writers out there, do not use people of color as self-inserts for dipping a toe into Learning To See Past Privilege. And especially when talking about a character who has a history of being actively abused and hurt by the system and institutions of power, or hell, even leaving out that particular origin story, who has still been out on the streets helping people since he was a literal child. You can not tell me that this is his first face to face experience with social issues, or the first time he's had the inclination to try and address those head on. (And its also particularly egregious that the people second-guessing Dick in his own title and giving him reality checks or acting like they have more of an awareness of all this than he does like, happen to all be white? OPTICS. LEARN ABOUT THEM. COMMON SENSE. GET SOME.)

Know what would actually be a better way to approach this? Flashbacks. Show us Dick running into situations that make him think back to a case when he was still Robin, when he and Batman had started fighting over their approaches to things, actually SHOW us those conflicts and how their viewpoints had started diverging, and how much of that was due to Dick not having the same experiences as Bruce, or the same standing in society, no matter what house he lived in. THEN you can jump BACK to the present, with the reminder/awareness that this is something that isn't NEWS to Dick, but that he in the past felt he was forced to make his peace with as something he wasn't in a position to do that much about....only NOW, he's in a very DIFFERENT position, and suddenly it just hits him how he's still acting like he did when he was limited in resources or in having to be part of a chain in command or having to factor other responsibilities into things....now he ACTUALLY has the power and the resources to make meaningful change in the ways he ALWAYS wanted to, but maybe just needed time to figure out HOW.

Like you know what would have made Shawn Tsang's story arc so much better? If Dick didn't just remember her as the Pigeon's one time teenage sidekick he'd briefly fought as a kid, but like.....if he remembered her as someone he and Bruce had FOUGHT about. Because he didn't agree with sending someone to juvie for defacing public property as a form of political protest, when it was someone's LIFE who was going to be irrevocably damaged by that while the damage to the city could be fixed with a check, and what made Dick any more deserving of Bruce's leniency and faith in his potential or underlying goodness than Shawn?

But he was still a kid himself back then, and when Bruce responded with his usual conviction, talking about the importance about rule of law and etc etc, Dick just didn't have the words to get through to him then, to get him to understand that this wasn't just Dick not getting it because he was too young, it was BRUCE not getting it, that Dick was literally just saying well he wasn't too young to have been in juvie himself, and of the two of them, he's the one who has experience there so why was Bruce's opinion on whether this was the punishment that fit the crime the one that got to hold more weight here? When Dick's the one who knows what that punishment actually LOOKS like beyond the abstract, for whom it was a reality that still haunts him in ways that even defacing a few statues of some rich old fucks doesn't deserve?

Or hell, go back FURTHER than when he was Robin. Idk where any of those posts are, but I've always wanted to see something where Dick maybe runs into someone he remembers from his time in juvie, maybe a guard who is like, the source of the reasons Dick mistrusts figures of authority and is so hung up on independence and not being under anyone's thumb, or maybe someone who was in there with him, another kid who looked out for him when he didn't have to, etc. Gimme Dick tackling head-on his firsthand awareness that there's no rehabilitation to be found in a jail for kids, when most of those kids don't even need rehabilitation in the first place and only did what they did in order to survive or escape from worse situations or like, were there purely because of racist cops, etc. Let him go after THAT system, driven by personal experiences and memories that maybe only hit him in full after recovering his memories from the Ric Grayson arc, like they're things that he put in a box in his mind a long, long time ago because he didn't have the spoons or reserves to deal with them when he was a kid still so traumatized in so many ways, like, something had to give and so he put all those memories away for another day and just....never got back to them because life kept hitting him with new and fresh trauma every week.

But now something has him thinking back to those early days in Gotham, and reminding him that not everyone had a Bruce Wayne willing and able to give them an out from that place or acrobatic skills to escape it on their own, and like. You want to do something about the cycles of violence in Gotham and Bludhaven? Why not start with the places that literally MANUFACTURE cruelty on an institutional level, that teach kids that no matter what they did to get put there, even if that was nothing at all, they're all going to be treated the same way and given no reason NOT to do whatever it took to be top dog in a dog eat dog world by the time they got out.

There's SO many better approaches to social awareness in the Batbooks than what we're seeing, and like. Sheesh. The bar is way too low.

4) On a related note, if I'm editor of the Nightwing book, the FIRST thing I'm doing is making it a priority to find a writer of color for that book, ideally someone of Rom descent. Its waaaaay past time to let a Romani writer take the reins on Dick, Wanda, Pietro or Doom, aka some of the only prominent Romani characters out there? You can't tell me that there aren't talented writers who identify as Roma who would be more than willing to add their perspective to Dick's archive of narratives, and if an editor's gotta go looking for them? Go fucking look. DC and its fans have milked a lot of mileage out of the idea of Dick being Romani with very little in the way of nuanced storytelling to show for it in the past twenty years, and if DC wants to trot out little reminders that Dick is Romani every couple years, like in the form of a freaking line that has no follow up or expansion to any degree and is offset by an internal monologue that otherwise reads as incredibly privileged, the least they can do is TRY to expand on that with the narrative perspective of someone they claim to be representing via that character.

And no, this isn't gatekeeping, this is prioritizing. Its not about preventing other writers from writing this character, like just for the hell of it, its about being proactive about finding a writer who can write specific aspects of this character that have long gone unaddressed or poorly represented. And like. Okay. Its not easy breaking into the comics industry for anyone, but its particularly not easy for marginalized writers. Most every major comic book company just recites 'make your own stuff first and then show us that' but when you're a writer specifically, finding a compatible artist to partner with on creator-owned indie stuff first, when those artists are in the same position as you are and apologetically and understandably tend to have to take paying work over yours if you can't pay except on the back end, like....there are a lot of hurdles to getting your start in comic books, and while there are more and more marginalized writers in comics these days, DC and Marvel kinda fucked up, because you know what?

After being told 'make your own first, then we'll talk,' writers DID do just that....but then found out that well, due to the ease of online distribution and access these days, for any writers who CAN find an artist to partner with, its a hell of a lot easier to get their content out there these days WITHOUT a major publisher behind them.....and for a lot of marginalized writers in particular, its worth it to keep full creative control in exchange for smaller circulation. Especially when they don't have to deal with editors 'softening' their work to make it more palatable for audiences that quite frankly aren't necessarily their primary target. So yeah, marginalized voices are becoming more and more present in comics, but Marvel and DC for the most part are keeping the same voices centered they always have, and what these voices have to say is becoming less and less relevant and outdated. Because much like this arc from Taylor, even when they DO dip their toes into story matter that's of interest to wider audiences, they're doing so to a degree that still puts them years behind the conversations everyone else is having.

5) The same holds true of disability representation. I stopped reading Taylor's run for a lot of reasons but his way of responding to people unhappy with his depiction of Babs was a key one. If I'm editor on a book, and someone tweets at one of my writers that their depiction of a disabled character was hurtful because it feels like they're doubling back on everything Babs has ever said about not being defined by or ashamed of her disability and now its being treated like a dirty little secret, and that writer's response is essentially to just laugh at them and say there's nothing wrong or ableist about their writing of a disabled person, TO a concerned disabled person? That writer's ass is getting fired. Full stop.

Either you give a shit about this stuff or you don't. Don't pay your readers lip service about how important social issues are to you and how much you care about using superhero narratives to inspire people on these matters if you're gonna turn around and show your ass the second you don't feel comfortable and prioritized by the conversation, like it wouldn't exist without your oh so valuable contributions. ESPECIALLY if you don't identify as sharing the same identity of the marginalized character you're writing. You are a guest in someone else's lived experiences at that point, and you think you've got the right to belittle and talk down to the people who LIVE THERE? Fuck off, my dude.

6) Re-center Dick as someone who the superhero community RESPECTS. I love seeing Dick depicted as someone who has an awareness of his own limitations and an appreciation for what others bring to the table, and so I'm not opposed to him calling on others when he needs to.....but I also would like to see more of the opposite. But not in the way we usually see it these days, where he's asked to come help with a crisis and then usually second-guessed the whole way, and then sent back home without so much as a thank you when its done. Yawn. Sorry. I've read that story by now.

You know what story arc I freaking LOVED as a kid, back in the 90s? In Green Lantern, when Kyle Rayner first became the sole GL, one of his very early arcs, before he ever joined the JLA or anything....was him realizing how little he knew about being a superhero. He was like, my predecessors all had a full fledged CORPS to teach them everything they needed to know, but I had a few lines of exposition from a funny little blue guy in a red pillowcase and then I was off to the races. That's not good enough. There's so much I don't know about being a hero, I don't even KNOW what I still need to know.

So he went on kinda a superhero training roadtrip. He went to Metropolis to ask Superman for advice, he went to Batman to learn from Batman and Robin (Tim at the time). He went to Wonder Woman, Sentinel (Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern), etc, etc. And in the end, Kyle very much became his own kind of hero who wasn't just a pastiche of all those other heroes and the advice they gave him, but like....this put him on the road to that.

And I'd love to see something like that happen in Dick's solo title. We've seen him train in a team setting, we've seen him train the other Robins.....I'd love to see like, young superheroes from OTHER books, not ones created by the title, but like names people actually recognize from other franchises, like, guest star in Nightwing's book to learn from HIM, specifically. I wanna see something where Wally looks at the latest speedster and is like, you know what, if you really wanna be the best hero you can possibly be, then Nightwing's who you gotta go to, because there's no one I trust to make a better hero out of someone than him. I want the newest kid on the JLA block to worry that people aren't taking him seriously because of his age or experience, and he's always hearing them talk about Nightwing and how young he was when he started and so if anyone knows something about how to gain the respect of your older superhero peers, that's the guy to talk to.

Gimme Dick's couch being crashed on at various times by a half dozen new or upcoming young superheroes who all heard or figured out that if they really want to up their superhero game, Nightwing's the guy to see.

7) Bring back Bea. There's no long paragraph expansion on this, its really simply. Bring back Bea. She was one of the freshest breaths of air in Dick's supporting cast in ages, most of the current run is based off her character direction in the first place, she's literally the best suited TO help Dick in this venture, and the reasons they gave for writing her out of Dick's life were all bullshit and they just wanted to focus on his previous relationships, which would be fine if they didn't fall into the same two endless cycles of bring back up, go nowhere with, awkwardly avoid each other for years, rinse and repeat. Like. Bring back Bea, please and thank you, the end.

8) Focus on new villains. Heartless is meh, but the idea of new villains is still better IMO than rehashing Blockbuster, Zucco, etc. Like, nostaglia ain't it. If I want to read Blockbuster fucking up Dick's life, I can do that. They're called back issues. The thing is, love it or hate it, the Blockbuster arc WAS iconic. It left its mark. And anything that doesn't leave just as much of a mark, if they're going to bring him up again, is just gonna be a waste of time, you know? It'll just dilute his overall presence when like, what he was - worked fine as is. We don't need Round Two.

The trick to good villains, IMO, is they have to speak to a fight that needs fighting.

What I mean by that is....the best villains are those who resonate on a more instinctive level because they embody something that already exists in a reader's mind as a conflict that needs fighting. Like, if superheroes exist, if the embodiment of larger than life presences and forces devoted to protecting the world from various things are real....then their villains need to embody the kinds of fights or conflicts that NEED larger than life figures to combat them, at least on a one to one level.

Look at Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman at his core embodies the strength of community. He's the ultimate hero of the people, his essence is that he was the last survivor of a doomed race who was raised by two honest, hard working people to see the beauty in just being ONE of them, in using what he had on behalf of all of them and not just himself. In contrast, Lex Luthor is basically the embodiment of capitalist greed, of excess, of the entitlement of being able to have anything with a snap of your fingers and thus assuming that gives you divine mandate to make the kinds of choices that he sees as only his right to make.

He hates Superman, ultimately, because Superman is the WRONG savior of the people. He wants their only savior to be HIM, half the time he honestly believes he's saving the world FROM Superman, but just as often he's perfectly content to be the villain and not shy about it....because Lex Luthor's ultimate motivation is he wants everyone to know when he's dead and gone that LEX LUTHOR WAS HERE. He genuinely doesn't care WHAT his impact or legacy is at the end of the day, just that it exists and it overshadows most everything else...because all that really matters to him is the irrefutable proof that HE mattered. And thus at their cores, Superman and Lex are perfectly opposed. Ideally situated to eternally be in conflict, their own forever war, because their core natures are incompatible. They CAN'T compromise, without compromising themselves and essentially ending up as someone totally other than who and what they are already.

And you can go down the list. The Joker is the chaos to Batman's order, while Mr. Freeze is the stagnancy of that order taken too far, he's what you get when you freeze everything in your grief and refuse to let anything go on, anything new grow, because that would mean having to admit once and for all that what you're mourning is really gone. Two-Face is the ultimate embodiment of Man vs Self, a once good man at war with his own worse nature, and reminding everyone who looks at him how easily they could fall to the same fate.

And so on and so on. What Dick needs, is more of the same. Like, as much as I'm not a huge fan of Talon stories, I maintain that the Court of Owls were a great foil for him - just they tend to be poorly used in canon as well. But I also think how poorly they come off in canon has a lot to do with canon not really touching on WHY they're such a perfect foil for Dick....and that's Dick's history with being outside the system, mistreated and even exploited by the system. Because the Court, their core concept, is they ARE the system. They are entrenched, enfranchised, institutional power, passed down through generations, dynastic control that is a perfect counterpart to the dynastic power of the Wayne family, embodied in its youngest generation in the form of Bruce's FOUND family, the children he adopted regardless of whether or not his peers found them deserving of that honor. The Court, and their entire....thing...about the Gray Son, is the entitled fury of those denied something they deem theirs simply because they WANT it, and who will burn the whole world down rather than admit defeat or let someone else have it instead.

And that resonates. It could resonate a lot MORE if DC would actually lean into those concepts and allow Dick to explore how the Court are nothing he's not used to, they're literally made up of the same people who have looked down on him ever since he came to Gotham, but now they're actually a face and a name put to all those attitudes, something he can literally FIGHT BACK AGAINST. The Court are literally human-sized embodiments of everything and everyone who's tried to confine Dick since his parents' deaths, tried to define him without his permission, tried to make him other or lesser than who and what he is.....and who thus now exist in a form that Dick can literally BATTLE. So that he doesn't HAVE to just take this stuff lying down.

Thanks to the Court, he doesn't HAVE to just passively accept it, that this is just how life is, that some people are going to view him this way and think this about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He CAN do something about it, in superhero stories. He can kick its ASS, in the form of the Court of Owls and everything its members think about him and intend for him. He can refuse to bow down to them, to accept their mark on him. He can say lol, no, and then blow their shit sky high, ideally with a little help from his family. He can BEAT them, in this incarnated form, and in doing so, even though he can't beat everything they stand for and represent, that victory still matters, still means something symbolic to readers it resonates with.

And that's what we need more of. Villains created specifically to embody concepts that are diametrically opposed to Dick and what he represents. The system, yes, but also villains who embody the kind of tyranny and control he fights back against in his constant battles for autonomy and self control. Villains who embody the 'new hopes' of a second generation just like Dick himself is the focal point of the hopes embodied by the second generation of heroes. I'm actually not the hugest fan of multiversal constant Dick Grayson, but I might like it more if he had an opposite number there, someone he was specifically contrasted with. Idk.

But you get it.

9) Dick having a social life. Gimme the Titans and his siblings showing up JUST to show up. We have room enough for at least a couple pages every other issue where we just get to see these characters having some breathing room, taking a beat to stop and be something other than just a superhero, to be human as well. There's more to life than 24/7 fighting, even for them, and that's largely been lost in modern superhero comics, which kinda sucks, because that was what made most of the more iconic and lasting dynamics between various characters like, STAND the test of time. The larger than life battles between good and evil might be what many of us come to superhero comics FOR, but the relatable back-and-forths and ups and downs of their private lives spent with friends and family tends to be what keeps most of us coming BACK. And lately its all just mission, mission, mission, and I'm like blah, blah, blah and its like, meh, meh, meh. Y'know? Give the guy some down time, and let his friends come spend it with him.

10) Boone. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you know anything about me, you know my obsession with Robin: Year One, Dick's brief time at Vengeance Academy, and the hate/hate relationship he has with his brief frenemy from that period, Boone aka Shrike. This character has SOOOOO much potential to be Dick's true archnemesis and rival, and like. *Sobs* I can't get into it all again. Its too much. I can't do it.

Okay, I absolutely can. And will, probably. But like. Later.

BONUS ROUND:

Other thing I would absolutely insist upon if I were Nightwing editor....

GET THAT FUCKING MEME SHIRT ABOUT BRUCE SLAPPING DICK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

Like. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL. Why would you double down on THAT? Why is Babs STILL wearing it? (Last I checked, like I think I saw it in a scan from last issue? I'm pretty sure its still there? If not, forget this entire rant, and I am very embarrassed. Okay not that embarrassed. I don't really care if I'm wrong here but like, in case I'm not)...

WHY. Who thought that was funny? No, seriously, on behalf of any other abuse survivors who like me are SERIOUSLY not amused, who the FUCK thinks its FUNNY to have one of Dick's best friends sporting a shirt that no matter what it represents IN universe, to readers OUT of universe, is always going to call to mind the fact that this meme only freaking EXISTS because of all the times DC has obliviously and without acknowledgment written Bruce abusing his children, including the BFF that Babs is literally wearing that right in front of.

Like omg do you hate her, DC? What other possible reason could you have for thinking that would be a cute, funny thing for her to wear around the guy getting SLAPPED, by his DAD, in your shirt's iconography.

Okay I'm done.

LOL.

Sorry, that last one was brewing for awhile. Deep breaths. Woo.

[rosiesandlilies]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

Lisa x Female Reader

(6.8k words)

synopsis: having a best friend is the best feeling in the world, until you fall for them. don't fall in love with your best friend they would say, it'll only break your heart. yet, the heart never listens.

A/N: I’ve decided to treat you all to some more of my wattpad works so you guys can enjoy them on here too. Enjoy :)

~

“i still remember, the third of december. me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me, than it did you.”

~

Author's POV.

there's a risk being in the same room as someone beautiful. you have to risk your hands itching to touch their face, you have to risk your mouth spilling those secrets, you have to risk your heart wanting to reach out to theirs.

there's a risk being in the same room as someone beautiful.

she watches, she watches the way her lips move, her mouth open up to say a string of beautiful words that can be turned into a song. she watches, completely in awe, mesmerized. "try this on," surprised, y/n snaps her head towards lisa's direction - purposely acting like she wasn't just admiring her best friend. "what?" lisa rolls her eyes but quickly replaces it with a smile and y/n's heart leaps out of her chest. she needed to take breaths to return it back into its original beating. "try on my sweater! i want to see you in it!" y/n doesn't want to, she knows it'll smell like lisa. she knows the scent will linger in her memory and she'd just be craving it during the night, wanting to pull lisa in and hug her, but seeing lisa's eyes, y/n relents.

taking the sweater from lisa's hold, y/n squeezes her head into the sweater, the fabric coming loosely around her, the scent of lisa filling her surroundings. she lets herself get lost for a second before opening up her eyes and nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders. "can i take it off now?" lisa laughs and shakes her head, "no silly! it looks so cute on you!"

"lisa...it's so fucking tight on me. your clothes are way too small."

"it's not my fault you go to the gym. plus, it's not really mine." lisa says and y/n tilts her head, confused at lisa's statement but not questioning it. if her best friend was going to explain then she'll let her, but if she doesn't, who is y/n to care?

y/n waits and lisa doesn't say anything else, all y/n knows is that her cheeks turn pink and lisa's smiling really wide.

deep down, y/n wishes to be the cause of lisa's smile and maybe she is but with the way lisa dives for her phone after hearing it 'ping,' y/n knows she's not the reason behind it. at least not anymore. so y/n just smiles at the ground, burying her stupid emotions and picks at lisa's sweater.

"can i see you wear this one?" y/n looks back up and lisa's holding a baby blue sweater, the one that lisa never lets anyone wear. lisa always told her that her step dad bought it for her from Paris so it was precious, but lisa was offering y/n to wear it. "isn't that the one from Paris that marco bought you?"

"yeah, try it on. i want to see something."

y/n shrugs again, her smile getting wider as she reaches for the piece of fabric. "oh my gosh!" lisa squeaks, squeezing leo closer to her chest as she looks at y/n with shining eyes. "it looks so much better on you than on me! that's no fair!" lisa runs up to y/n and playfully rips the sweater off of her. "no one can look better in this than me. i made a mistake," y/n laughs and nods her head, sitting on the edge of lisa's bed.

"do you have any plans this weekend?" expecting lisa to say 'no' like usual, y/n waits patiently and starts listing off a bunch of things they can do together. maybe they could visit the bright christmas lights near hongdae? or maybe they can go ice skating and y/n can finally teach lisa how to skate properly and not just slide on the ice with her ass. y/n starts to laugh lightly at the memory of lisa sliding on the ice with her butt. or maybe they can go and build snowmen near itaewon and join their annual snowball fight-

"actually, i do."

"you do?" y/n's eyebrows raise up and she's panicking inside. her thoughts were running wild, why was lisa busy? "yeah, i do." lisa smiles again and bites her lip. y/n looks away and tries to erase the stupid memory of lisa biting her lip, she really shouldn't think of lisa's lips and how she desperately wanted to taste them.

'what are they?' y/n wants to ask but instead she nods and bites her lip. her eyes dart to her backpack and she's standing up to grab it before she can even think rationally. "where are you going?" lisa questions, her feet speeding to reach y/n's. y/n hates doing this to lisa, but she knows that something or rather someone got lisa's attention.

she's being unfair, she knows. but having these stupid emotions for her best friend for years was something that wouldn't be easy to overcome and y/n needed to get out of there. she needed to get out of lisa's room, out of lisa's presence before she snaps.

"i have to help appa with something plus jennie and ryujin unnie are asking for my help on something,"

"what? but i thought you were free all afternoon?"

"sorry lis, i'll make it up to you?" y/n hugs lisa briefly, she couldn't touch the girl, she'd only break more. "i..okay. sure. i'll see you on monday then!" y/n smiles but she's slowly breaking inside, though, lisa doesn't notice.

~

“only if you knew, how much i like you.”

~

Your POV.

there's a risk in falling for your best friend. a best friend is there for you, you tell each other secrets, things you would never share the world but only share within you two. best friends are there for gossip, relationships, family drama and school stress. that's what best friends are for, they're there to comfort you, love you, trust you and rock the world with you.

but what happens when you start falling for them? it's inevitable, sometimes you just can't help but fall for them, whether you know it or not, you'll fall for your best friend at least once. once you fall for your best friend, there's no telling what's ever going to happen. you like them and they like you back but then you break up and risk the friendship that you two had first.

but what happens when you like them but they don't like you back? what happens then? there's always going to be a lingering awkwardness between you two, it's never going to leave and the friendship starts to break. it withers away, slowly, inch by inch and you're left without a best friend.

that's something you never want to risk happening, you don't want to lose your best friend, you don't want to lose lisa. you don't want to get attached and you don't want to tell her. lisa means the world to you and if tucking away those stupid feelings you have for her means you'll keep her in your life forever, then you'll do just that.

but how much more can you take? how much more can you take before you eventually fall, before you crumble and can never restore yourself. how much more before you're no longer able to recognize yourself? where's the boiling point? where's the breaking point? how much longer can this go on before you slowly lose yourself in this pile of feelings that you should've never ventured off into.

falling for lisa, falling for you best friend, is like climbing the highest mountain you can find and then just falling off it. you're free falling but you know she's not going to catch you. she's not going to catch you because she's not the one with feelings, she's not the one who's falling and she's not the one who likes their best friend. you are. you're the one with feelings, you're the one who likes her. you wish it'd be the other way around, you wished you never fell for her in the first place, but how can you not?

she's got a face that's designed by the heavens above, eyes that are dripped from crystal water, lips painted with candy and a voice envied by angels. lisa was perfection. you could see it, everyone else around could see it. so for you, it was inevitable. lisa was a force that was constantly pulling you in even before you knew what these feelings were. lisa was a phenomenon that you found yourself researching deeper and deeper until you dug a hole for yourself, you could no longer get out.

so you're here, sitting on your bed, heart racing with the mere thought of the black haired girl because she's your best friend and best friends shouldn't have these feelings, best friends shouldn't fall for each other. that's not how it goes.

but you're falling and you're falling fast. you like her, you might even love her but there's nothing you can do. lisa doesn't like you back, she will never see you in that light. she sees you as a sister, nothing more, nothing less. you have to start getting used to the fact that you aren't the one who she'll kiss, you aren't the one she'll make love to and you aren't the one she'll spend forever with.

you're in love with her but she just loves you.

she's not into you like you're into her. it just doesn't work that way, but here you are, in love with your best friend, looking like a pathetic fool.

you blink, once and then twice. you're pretty sure a sock hit your head or were you just dreaming?

but then another hits you again. you rub your head and look down, there it was, two pairs of socks rolled up, sitting on your floor. "what the fuck?" you mutter, confusion laced in your tone. you look up at the door and spot your sisters looking at you. "you threw socks at my head? why?" jennie rolls her eyes and barges into your door, ryujin following suit. "we were calling you for dinner and now eomma is scolding us because she thinks we did something to you that caused you not to come down and instead huddle in your room like an emo teenager. c'mon y/n/n, i thought you were past that stage," ryujin groans as she lays flat on your bed. you watch in amusement as jennie follows what ryujin is doing.

"look, i know you two are way older than me and accomplished, but that does not mean you can insult me like that assholes." ryujin looks at jennie and they both share eye contact, you're a little weirded out but you don't bother much because your sisters are always this weird.

"should we guess why you didn't come down for dinner?"

"oh! maybe it's a girl!" ryujin teases, her fingers cupping your cheeks and squishing them, a thing she loved doing since mandu cheeks run in your bloodline. "ooooooh! maybe it's someone that starts with the letter L!" jennie singsongs and you remove your face from ryujin's piercing fingers. "shut up you two."

you loved your sisters, they were way older than you so sometimes they acted like they were your mom instead of your actual mom. they were both incredibly protective and always knew what you were doing or were about to do even if you haven't done it yet, they also always knew what you were thinking even if you haven't thought it yet. they were odd and slightly scary but you loved them. they loved teasing you, they always excused it as an 'older sister pass' but you know they just love messing with you because well...you're five years younger than them.

"so it really is about lalalalalalalisa again, isn't it?" ryujin looks around your room and admires all the pictures you had up, 80% of them consisting of lisa and only 20% consisting of your sisters. "couldn't you show us a little more respect and at least pretend that you like us?" ryujin says after pulling out a picture frame that you unintentionally hid behind your bigger photo frame with lisa.

"so lisa...what's up with her and why are you all sulky?"

"don't you have a girlfriend you should bother jennie?"

"i don't have a girlfriend, ryujin does though,"

"hey, she was talking about you first not me."

"you have a girlfriend unnie?"

"what? no i don't. i don't know what jennie is telling you."

"ryujin, literally the same girl from like four weeks ago snuck out of your room today."

"jennie! i told you not to say anything about that!"

"so she's your girlfriend?"

"no! she isn't!"

"so you two are just hooking up then?!"

"jennie our little sister is here, stop talking about my sexual relations!"

"oh c'mon ryujin, our lil sis knows all about your hookups, remember when she caught you in high school with tiff-"

"remember when jongin dumped your ass because he said you threw up on his di-"

"ryujin! shut up!"

"jennie- wait! wait! i was just kidding-"

you watch in awe as jennie body slams ryujin on your bed and proceeds to hit the shit out of her, ryujin doesn't seem too much in pain because she's currently giggling at all the blows your older sister is giving her. you aren't sure whether to be concerned or scared because ryujin seemed to enjoy getting hit way too much.

"i told you to stop talking about that! i ate a lot that day okay?!"

"i said i was sorry, fuck. stop pulling my hair! i'm not into that shit- jennie!"

"choke bitch! i thought you liked that?!"

"not when it's coming from you- fuck off jennie!"

you continue to watch as ryujin pulls on jennie's hair and ultimately drops the both of them on the floor, creating a loud 'thud' that you're sure your parents will come up and see what the commotion is all about.

and you're right, because thirty seconds later, your mum is leaning on your door, unimpressed eyes watching her two eldest daughters fight on her youngest daughter's bedroom floor.

"jennie kim, ryujin kim. stop it."

like a calling to a group of animals, jennie and ryujin immediately stop and look at your mom in horror. "stand up and stop acting like that. you two are twenty five and twenty six. act like it."

your mother then gives you a quick smile before kissing your forehead. "come down when you want to eat okay baby? eomma will reheat the food for you." she smiles and you smile back, you loved being the youngest.

"wow...eomma did not just do that."

"'i don't have favourites' my ass." jennie mutters when your mother leaves your room.

your mind absentmindedly drifts off to lisa. of course it does. when your mind tries to forget, your heart will always remember. sometimes you curse your heart, it was too weak for her, too fragile and easily swayed. you fell too easily and you cursed yourself for that. sometimes you try to get mad at your parents for showing you such an easy love that they've managed to perfect, sometimes you want to get mad at your sisters for telling you how amazing love is because you quickly found out that love isn't easy and it's not all that amazing.

but you can't find it in yourself to feel those things towards them, they weren't the ones who voluntarily fell for their best friend.

~

“i watch your eyes as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes. brighter than the blue sky. she's got you mesmerized.”

~

Author's POV.

it was a gloomy afternoon, the rain was falling down hard and y/n forgot to bring her umbrella because her sister: jennie, stole it from her room because apparently she 'needed' it but it's not like she has a car and all.

but y/n would say that today wasn't as bad because she was currently under the same umbrella as lisa. her lisa. her best friend, black haired goddess lisa. the lisa who knew how to dance perfectly, the lisa who had the brightest eyes and the lisa who scrunches her nose up because a joke is too funny.

lalisa manoban. the same lisa she liked.

the rain was falling hard, causing lisa to scoot closer to y/n and force y/n into wrapping her arms around her shoulder. lisa's talking about something but y/n can't focus, her eyes are too into lisa's lips and lisa's face. it should be illegal, the way lisa looked because y/n knew that even the goddess' were jealous of her.

lisa rambles and y/n continues to 'listen' but then it stops. abruptly and y/n can't even process what's happening until her eyes follow lisa's line of sight.

there she was. a slightly pink haired girl, walking past them with a smile as graceful as a ballerina greeting her friends on the far end of the road. her outfit fitting too well on her and her face almost as beautiful as lisa's. y/n notices the way everyone just stops and admires her. y/n especially notices the way lisa's eyes shine and her lips curl up into a smile that was so different it angered y/n.

of course it had to be her. who didn't like her? who didn't like Roseanne Park? y/n was stupid for thinking lisa liked someone who wasn't roseanne park. the roseanne park who was loved by everyone, the roseanne park who was perfect that y/n couldn't help but like her too.

the roseanne park who she knew had a thing for lisa ever since middle school.

the roseanne park who managed to capture lisa and mesmerize her.

"hey lali," roseanne greets, her eyes shimmering just like lisa's and lisa immediately smiles back, a dopey look on her face. lisa looks so different, so relaxed, so calm, so content.

"hi rosie.." lisa answers, her voice barely a whisper but roseanne manages to hear it and giggles, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear before walking away and greeting her friends.

y/n sees it all. how could she not? anything lisa does, y/n paid attention to. it was hard not to pay attention to lisa.

but y/n knows that look lisa had on her face, it was a look she knew all too well. it was the same look she had whenever she'd look at lisa.

lisa was in love with roseanne park.

~

“why would you ever kiss me? i'm not even half as pretty.”

~

it's february eleventh when y/n sees it. she doesn't want to but lisa asked her to give her the notes for a lecture that she missed so naturally, being the whipped person y/n is, she drives to lisa's house after lisa missed the lecture claiming she was sick.

but what y/n witnessed was lisa clearly not being sick.

the candy lips that y/n had dreamt about for so long were attached to someone else's. a pink haired girl's lips for that fact. the candy lips that y/n had waited so long to kiss was taken by someone else, someone who lisa hadn't even known for as long as she's known her. roseanne stole lisa's lips from y/n and y/n just watched.

her heart cracking, little by little, the pieces were falling off. but y/n continued to watch, her tears threatening to fall as the papers in her hands fall victim to y/n's slowly clenching fists. lisa claimed to be sick but she was here, kissing a pink haired girl without a care in the world.

y/n wrote extra notes for lisa, highlighted important part and even printed them all out for her 'sick' best friend who wasn't even sick but instead was locking lips with someone who wasn't her. y/n hates getting jealous, she doesn't get jealous, it's not something she does but seeing lisa fall harder and harder for someone that everyone else liked, made y/n feel emotions she's never experienced before.

it's a burning feeling, a burning in the pit of her stomach that's waiting to get released, waiting and waiting but y/n hides it away. she doesn't want it to come out. not now, not ever. y/n isn't ready for those complications, so she pets the green eyed monster and encourages it to hide away, back in the depths of her mind, back in the shadows of her heart.

she wants to throw up, she wants to smack her head against something to catch lisa's attention but y/n's heart hurts just thinking of hurting lisa, so she backs away.

she backs away from the door and retreats her eyes from the two women in front of her. eyes never opening and lips never parting.

lisa wraps her arm around roseanne, bringing her in closer and roseanne wraps her arm around lisa's neck. it's clear there's something there. it's blossoming and y/n doesn't want to ruin it, even though it's ruining her.

she walks down the steps, retraces her steps and carefully slips the pieces of paper on lisa's kitchen counter along with the spare key. she figures that lisa will ask for the spare key back because roseanne would need it more than she did.

she writes a quick note, quickly coming up with a valid excuse as to why she didn't go up into lisa's room and give the papers to her directly.

after looking over the note once more, y/n steps away and walks out the door when she hears footsteps walking her way.

'hey lali, decided to leave the notes for you on the kitchen counter since i gotta run, jen needs me for her fitting session...plus, i saw roseanne's car out front, didn't want to disturb your freaky time. make sure you don't break her lisa, don't want to upset your future in-laws ;)'

~

“you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester. but you like her better.”

~

absentmindedly playing with lisa's hand, y/n doesn't notice the pink haired girl sitting next to lisa. "hey baby," roseanne greets and y/n tries hard not to grimace at it or appear pale. the two have been 'dating' for months now and y/n has found it hard to accept it.

she just can't. not when she likes her best friend and still hasn't gotten over it. "hi rosie."

"hi y/n!" roseanne greets cheerfully, her arm coming around to give y/n a small hug. "hi roseanne, how was your-"

y/n stops talking when she sees lisa's precious Parisian baby blue sweater on roseanne. the sweater that lisa never lets anyone try, the sweater that only y/n has tried but only for a brief moment before lisa practically wrestled her playfully for it back. the sweater that lisa never lets anyone have. the sweater that is lisa's most prized possession but somehow roseanne was allowed to wear it.

"lis? is that your sweater rosie is wearing?" y/n questions, adding a teasing tone to not let lisa know what she really is feeling and thinking. her heart cracks and she's been feeling it crack these past few months. sure, it's just a sweater but when it's lisa's most precious object that she doesn't stop worshiping, it's a big deal. lisa gave roseanne permission to wear it.

"oh yeah! rosie asked for it yesterday when she was borrowing my clothes. it looks great on her, doesn't it?" lisa grabs a hold of roseanne's waist and twirls her around, roseanne laughs and hides her blushing face behind her hands.

"of course! anything looks great on roseanne." y/n tries so hard to not let her mask fall but as she watches lisa's hands grip and tug roseanne so that she can be closer to her, y/n nearly slips and shouts. she wanted to tell lisa. she wanted to yell it out and shout it at her that yes, she's in love with her best friend. she's clawing to let it out and tell lisa just how much she wants to be the one she's in love with, she's so desperate for lisa to know that she wants to be roseanne just so she can hold lisa's hand, just so she can hug lisa, kiss her, proclaim her love for her.

but she just sits back down, a smile plastered on her face as lisa continues to admire the goddess in front of them, shining bright with lisa's baby blue sweater and a white tennis skirt.

how could lisa resist allowing roseanne to wear her prized baby blue sweater when roseanne looked like that wearing it.

~

“watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put your arm 'round her shoulder, now i'm getting colder.”

~

it's winter again. december to be exact. it's almost been a year since the whole Chaelisa fiasco happened and as far as y/n can see it, there's no stopping the pair any time soon. y/n is freezing, her hands are clamming up due to the cold and she stupidly forgot her gloves in her car. she shouldn't have agreed to skating with lisa and roseanne but yet again, lisa promised that jisoo and irene would be there but they both cancelled last minute because of 'family dinners' they had to attend to.

so now y/n is left alone, waiting in the freezing cold for roseanne and lisa to show up at the ice rink so they can skate and y/n can get it over with.

another ten minutes go by and y/n is almost ready to leave and just forget about today when roseanne shouts her name and quickly hugs the girl. "y/n! i'm so sorry we're late, lisa wanted to stop by and get hot chocolate," lisa appears behind roseanne and quickly hugs you, "sorry about that y/n/n, i promise i got you one!" lisa hands you your hot chocolate and you take a sip, the taste coating your tongue and bringing you to heaven for a split second before you're brought back down and faced with reality.

"are you guys ready to head in and get the tickets?" lisa nods and walks between you and roseanne. their fingers are interlaced and y/n's hands are laced with a cup of hot chocolate.

suddenly, memories of the times y/n and lisa would go skating at this very skate rink every single december floats in y/n's mind. she remembers the simpler times when lisa would intertwine her hand with y/n's and lay her head on her shoulder, babbling about non-sense and making y/n pay for their tickets because 'she has more money.'

but now it's not just the two of them fulfilling their december tradition, no, there's an additional body with them and it just so happens to be lisa's girlfriend.

they stand in line, y/n awkwardly minding her own business as roseanne tries to start conversation with her. she doesn't want to come off rude because roseanne is a sweetheart but sometimes y/n just wants to run away from roseanne and smack that sweet smile off her lips. she can't help but envy roseanne and everything she has. she has lisa and she has the attention of everyone else. why couldn't y/n at least get lisa's attention? that's all she wanted, that's all she was yearning for.

"oh my gosh, i'm freezing," roseanne exclaims in her soft aussie accent and y/n watches as lisa smiles at her and wraps her arm around her shoulder, letting the pink haired girl to snuggle into lisa's neck, away from the cold as y/n nearly freezes - not from the cold but from the lack of warmth shooting through her heart.

walking up to the same cashier as all the other years before, she gives y/n a weird look and y/n quickly gestures to lisa and roseanne at the other cashier. the lady gives her a soft smile before giving her a look of sympathy and y/n knows exactly why. it seemed as though everyone knew that y/n liked lisa except for lisa herself. but that wouldn't even matter if lisa knew, y/n already knows that lisa is head over heels in love with roseanne.

after paying for two tickets, one for her and one for lisa. it's always been like that. she heads over to where roseanne and lisa are. "here ya go lis!" y/n excitedly hands lisa's ticket over but lisa smiles and shakes her head. "y/n/n, that's sweet of you and thank you for that but i already paid for rosie and i's tickets. you can keep that ticket for a special someone you'll meet."

y/n's heart shatters in her chest but she gives lisa a laugh and smile, she looks down at the month long ticket she just bought, knowing damn well she wasn't going to use this ticket for anyone else because she wasn't interested nor liked anyone else. the person she liked was her best friend and her best friend was already taken.

y/n felt herself losing lisa to a girl.

y/n would be lying if she said she didn't want to cry right then and there.

y/n knew she shouldn't have come, the entire night, y/n just watched as roseanne took her place and became the one who taught lisa how to properly skate. of course roseanne knew how to skate, roseanne was the epitome of the word perfect and she did not shy away from that.

so now y/n had to skate around, alone, surrounded by couples (including roseanne and lisa) while lisa skated (properly) around with roseanne, holding hands, red noses and breathy laughs.

y/n really shouldn't have come, but of course she did. if lisa asked her, then she would. guess that's just how it is when you fall for your best friend.

~

“how could i hate her? she's such an angel. but then again, kinda wish she were dead.”

~

it's lisa's birthday, the twenty-seventh of march and y/n finds herself listening to roseanne talk to the entire friend group about what she plans on doing for her girlfriend's birthday. it's been a yearly tradition, ever since y/n and lisa could talk, that y/n was the one who planned lisa's birthday. it has always been like that and everyone would always go to her for ideas on what to get lisa but this year it was different.

roseanne was organizing lisa's birthday. people went to roseanne for help on lisa's gifts. it was all roseanne this, roseanne that.

y/n couldn't hate the girl. there was nothing to hate about her. she was literally perfect. she was popular, beautiful, intelligent, sweet, kind, charming, mannered and the list can go on and on. everyone loved roseanne, everyone knew roseanne, so who could hate her and how can one hate her?

y/n finds herself asking that question a lot these days.

"i cannot believe rosie planned this whole thing out within a week? she's so fucking good what the hell? i want her as my girlfriend," jennie exclaimed as she sits beside her baby sister on the couch. even her own sisters loved roseanne.

"hey y/n, are you okay babe?" jennie leans her head on her sister's shoulder and y/n nods her head lightly. "of course i'm fine, how can i not? roseanne practically took all the stress away from me! i finally don't have to stress over this part of lisa's. god knows how picky she is," once again, y/n plays it off as a joke, that's the only way no one else can find out about her massive, stupid crush on her best friend.

but jennie's her sister and jennie alongside ryujin raised y/n and she knew her baby sister better than anyone and she knew that y/n was lying. she was most definitely, most certainly hurting and breaking on the inside.

but before she can do anything, y/n turns her head and walks up to roseanne, putting on a smile and helping the girl with additional plans and jennie can only watch as her little sister destroys her heart even more for her best friend.

~

four years later

~

y/n opens the letter. it's been sitting on her desk for god knows how long, she's always found excuses around not opening the letter and today was finally the day she ran out of those excuses and faced her feelings she's been burying.

it's been four years. four years and six months to be exact. four years later and she still found her heart beating for her best friend. four years later and roseanne was still dating her best friend.

four years, four long years and y/n still wasn't over lisa. the lisa she grew up with, the lisa she watched grow and the lisa she watched grow into a woman.

y/n knows what's in the letter, she wasn't stupid. the formality of it and the design on the envelope itself gave it away.

y/n knows lisa has been planning this for years now, ever since she laid her eyes on roseanne that day in november and started pursuing her, lisa has been in love with roseanne ever since middle school and although it hurt y/n's heart to hear that, she just felt numb to it. numb to the pain her stupid little crush brought her.

with a letter opener, y/n carefully opens it. trembling hands, short breaths and dumb memories. y/n manages to open it.

she pulls out the letter and hears her heart drown with her tears as she reads out the first sentence.

'you're invited to celebrate the wedding of lalisa manoban and roseanne 'chaeyoung' park on december third, 2024 at 11:30 am.'

y/n remembers lisa's text message she sent last week after y/n willingly helped lisa set up her proposal for roseanne.

'if this shit works, you're obviously going to be my maid of honour.'

y/n laughs as she reads the title she was given. maid of honour.

y/n wanted to scream, to laugh, to cry, y/n doesn't know at this point, all she knows is that she's so numb to the point where all she wants to do is curl up and drink her feelings away. y/n is so hurt to the point where she just wants to let it all out and come clean, but lisa's about to get married and y/n was never selfish. she couldn't be selfish now.

y/n smiles at the title she was given and her thoughts start up on how much she wanted to be called the wife.

~

y/n hates herself sometimes. she hates how she can never say 'no' to lisa and she hates how she can never give up on lisa. she hates herself because no matter how much her heart is begging her not to, she still does it. she still helps lisa set up something romantic for roseanne despite feeling the need to die inside, she still helps lisa prepare an apology for roseanne whenever they get into a fight and she hates herself because she let herself get involved in helping lisa propose to roseanne.

now y/n hates herself even more, because she's here, at the wedding, standing next to lisa half of the time and faking her smiles as she watches the two of them exchange words of forever and proclamations of love for eternity. y/n hates herself because whenever it comes to lisa, she will always say yes.

she watches them kiss and this kiss is far different from all the other kisses they've shared and all the other kisses y/n has witnessed. no. this kiss was what sealed them together, forever. this kiss that y/n witnessed right in front of her eyes is the kiss that bonds them together, til death do them apart.

y/n hates it but she can't tear her eyes away from them. she feels envy, she feels jealousy, she feels sadness but that's all not enough for y/n to be selfish and tell lisa her feelings, not when she's clearly so happy.

~

the party is raging, lisa is dancing with her wife and y/n is on her third whiskey cup.

she waits until lisa is done dancing with roseanne before she walks to lisa and smiles at her. "hey," y/n says, her breath catching in her throat as she finally sees the way lisa looks tonight.

lisa was always beautiful, but something about lisa in a dress, her hair down and her eyes so bright did wonders to y/n's dying heart.

"remember how we'd always fantasize about getting married and being at each other's wedding," lisa started and y/n just nodded. lisa was looking at the way roseanne interacted with her family members and y/n was looking at lisa's face, admiring the beauty that radiated off it.

"yeah, i remember that." y/n takes a gulp of her drink and encourages lisa to continue.

"well you're here at mine so now all i'm waiting for is yours." y/n laughs and shakes her head but lisa pushes her lightly and shakes her head. "c'mon y/n, i know all the ladies lined up for you," lisa teases because y/n wasn't a stranger to women but the only woman that y/n wants was no longer available.

"maybe one day but for now..this night is all about you."

lisa smiles and leans her head on y/n's shoulder, the same way she used to all those years ago, when they first met on a set of swings and lisa's korean was terrible but they still managed to bond and stay until the sun set.

y/n closed her eyes and felt like she was five again, curiously talking with this black haired little girl who had terrible korean but wanted to tease her by not telling her she actually knew how to speak english because she thought the little girl trying to speak korean was cute, first experiencing these new feelings and not knowing what they were.

but now they were twenty four, lisa was married and y/n was still trying to figure out these feelings she had for her best friend. y/n sighs and finishes her drink.

"i love you." lisa speaks, her voice soft but it's not the 'i love you' that y/n is hoping for.

"i'll love you forever, lisa." y/n speaks, her heart racing as lisa stares at her with those doe eyes, the same eyes she fell for when she was five, at the park, on those set of swings.

"really? you will?" lisa questions, almost like she didn't believe y/n. y/n laughed and nodded her head.

"lisa! baby!" lisa turns her head and smiles widely when she sees roseanne calling her over. "one second baby!" lisa shouts back before turning her head towards y/n, waiting to see if the girl she's known for so long has anything else to say.

y/n is tempted to say it, she's tempted to come clean but all she does is nod her head. lisa takes the signal and gives y/n one last squeeze before heading into the direction of her wife.

y/n watches lisa walk away. she wants to do something but she knows she can't.

so instead, she looks down at her empty drink and lets her tears finally reach her eyes. after years of resisting and pretending, y/n is tired.

y/n knows that maybe they could've done it, maybe they could've been but y/n didn't try because her story with lisa just wasn't meant to be. it never will be.

"yes. that's the problem."

- fin.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Together

A Stitched Story (END)

JSE Fanfic

Man...this is it. The last one. That’s...wow. This was an AU three years in the writing, and with this, it’s over. I just...wow. I’m gonna need to just think about that for a second. Maybe wait a bit before starting something new. Anyway, this is basically wrapping everything up, taking care of all the final plot points and loose ends. There are emotional moments, including one big one, but...wow. I just have to keep saying that over and over again, it’s all I feel. The boys are settling down. Finally. Man, they’ve earned it. 

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read the whole story: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two | Torn Apart | Tales to Tell | Threads | Twice Bitten, Never Shy | Two of Souls | The Tower | Time to End

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty @ari-trash

It was surprisingly sunny, for an autumn day. Busy, too. Cars rushed through the streets, and pedestrians populated the pavement. Jameson shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare as he peered around a street corner and saw their destination. We’re almost there. One more block, he said, tapping the message out in Morse code on a nearby lamppost.

“Good, I hope we are not late,” Schneep replied. “What time is it?”

JJ checked the clock on his phone. 1:25. Do you think it’s already over?

“Possibly. In any case, it would be better to be early.” Schneep turned the corner, speeding up, running his cane over the sidewalk to check for cracks. JJ hurried to catch up. “Chase would be upset if we are not there.”

He’ll be fine, JJ said reassuringly, now tapping the message on Schneep’s arm. But I suppose we can make haste.

The two of them soon arrived at their destination, turning into the hospital parking lot and walking towards the building’s front entrance. “Oh! I think he is here, yes?” Schneep said.

Yes, I can see him. JJ waved. Chase was standing outside the glass doors, bouncing on his feet and scanning the area. He had his usual bandanna and cap, but was wearing a new sweater, one that the others had given him as a group birthday present to make up for missing it a few months ago, and an old backpack Stacy had lent him. Once he saw JJ waving he smiled, and waved back.

“Ha! Knew it. I am getting good at this,” Schneep said proudly. “If only sensing souls could help with telling apart the toothpaste and burn cream.”

JJ laughed, muffled as usual, and the two of them hurried across the parking lot. Chase ran up to meet them at the edge of the sidewalk. “Hey guys!” he said. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” Schneep said lightheartedly. “Well, well? Did everything go fine?”

“Oh, uh, mostly.” Chase rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. He wasn’t wearing his wristbands. Instead, there were white bandages. “She managed to get the ones on my wrists off, but said she didn’t want to risk messing with the one on my neck. It’s close to an artery or something? I don’t know, it was some complicated medical stuff.”

“Ah. That is too bad,” Schneep said sadly. Jameson shook his head sympathetically. “But it is glad to hear some of the stitches are gone. I told you that Darla was good. Trustworthy, too. She will not tell anyone.”

“If you say so, doc.” Pulling his sleeves down, Chase turned to JJ. “Are you sure you don’t want to try? I mean, it’s a lot more inconvenient for you than it is for me.”

JJ hesitated, then nodded. I am fine, he signed. I’ve gotten used to it, and yes, there are many downsides, but considering what happened last week, I think it is good enough.

“Man. If you’re really sure,” Chase said reluctantly. “They’re already a bit looser, right? Maybe whatever magic’s making them hard to cut through will fade over time.”

“Wait, Jameson, did you bring up last week?” Schneep whacked JJ’s legs with his cane. “I said that you should not try yourself! Things could go wrong!” He paused. “But everything is fine, right?”

Yes, it was a shallow cut, JJ said. Your scissors are pretty sharp.

“I know. They are not normal, and I am starting to think they were always supposed to be weapons.” Schneep sighed. “Well, I am putting them away soon.”

JJ and Chase exchanged a significant look. “You’re gonna put them away?” Chase repeated.

Schneep nodded. “If I need them again, it won’t be hard to pull them out.”

In the month since they’d finally gotten rid of the strings, Schneep had kept carrying the scissors around. Just in case, he’d said. Just in case those glowing green strands of black magic managed to worm their way back into the world. But the past month had been quiet. Busy in other ways, but nothing had appeared to attack any of them. So maybe ‘just in case’ wasn’t going to come. Maybe it would be fine to leave them at home. Or, well, in whatever pocket dimension they came from.

“If you’re sure, doc,” Chase said. “A-anyway, it’s a bit past 1:30. We should hurry, or we’ll be late to meet up with the others. You guys walked here? C’mon, there’s a bus stop across the street.”

We’d definitely be on time if you drove us, JJ said teasingly.

“Hey, I can’t be blamed for not having a car.”

Ask Stacy.

“Nah, it’s fine. I should practice a bit before I do any serious driving, anyway. It’s been a while.”

“You took the bus here?” Schneep asked, puzzled. “But what about people sitting next to you?”

“It’s okay, I just put the backpack next to me. And it’s alright if it’s you guys.” Chase stepped off the sidewalk curb and onto the parking lot asphalt. “Now let’s go.”

The bus ride was short, and soon the three of them were getting off at a stop outside a small restaurant—or, more of a cafe, really. Despite being near lunchtime, the place was almost empty when they walked in. Soft piano music was playing over a speaker system, and a chalk signboard near the front entrance read “Please Seat Yourselves” with a hand-drawn smiley face. Chase read the sign out loud, and the three of them spotted the rest of the group, sitting at a table in the corner of the dining area, right by a window.

Jack had looked up at the sound of the bell chiming when the door opened. “Hey, they’re here,” he said to the other two sitting at the table.

“Huh? Oh, good.” Jackie was turning the menu over and over, listening to the sound of the laminated paper against the air. Marvin didn’t say anything. His head was leaning against the glass of the window, eyes closed, a pair of earbuds blocking out most sound. But he did make a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Hey guys.” Chase arrived first, taking the chair across from Marvin, next to the wall. Schneep and JJ took the next two. “Did you already order?”

“No, I told the waiter that we were waiting for people,” Jack explained. “But, more importantly, how’d it go? Are they gone?”

“Wrists are.” Chase once again pulled back his sleeves. For a moment, Jackie glanced at the bandages on his wrists, then bit his lip and looked away. “Apparently the neck stitches are too close to an artery or something. She didn’t want to mess with it.”

“Shit. Well, two out of three’s not bad,” Jack said.

“Jack, my friend, how are the repairs going?” Schneep asked.

“Pretty good, I think. The walls just got repainted, and the living room has new chairs and stuff. Still a long way to go.” Jack laughed. “Honestly I’m just glad that the water and Internet didn’t go out.”

Are the police still talking to you? JJ asked.

“No, not really. You guys?”

The other three all shook their heads. Dealing with the police had been...complicated. They had to, of course. They couldn’t just go back to their old lives without people asking “what the hell happened to you?!”JJ had it the easiest, in a way. Nobody had reported him missing, which was a bit sad when he thought about it, and all the regular patrons of his shop had assumed it closed down. Jack and Chase had more difficulty, since they were pretty public figures. The moment Jack had uploaded a video explaining he was back, the Internet had gone up in flames wondering where he’d been.

In the end, they all decided on the same story. It was pretty lame, as Chase often said, but it worked. They all just lied and said they didn’t remember anything. Weird stitches on Chase’s wrists and neck? Nope. Scars all over Jack’s body? Don’t know what happened there. Schneep losing an entire sense and gaining weird scars that looked like tears dripping from his eyes? No idea, officer. The police had prodded them, but eventually given up, essentially leaving the case unsolved and concluding it was a strange psychological phenomenon. The case would go down in history, but nobody would know the truth.

Of course, when it came to Marvin and Jackie coming back to life, things were going to be a bit difficult. Fortunately, they had magic on their side.

“Have any of you heard from Yvonne?” Jack asked, sliding each of them a menu.

“Dude, why would she talk to me? I’m the least magical person here,” Chase said.

Not since she offered to help, JJ added.

Schneep merely shook his head and picked up the menu. “Oh! They actually have—”

“Yeah, I explained the situation when the waiter came over and he gave me a Braille copy,” Jack explained. “Anyway, she called me the other day. Says that the records should be all fixed now.”

“I still say that can’t be legal,” Chase muttered.

“It’s not.” Everyone jumped, a bit surprised to hear Marvin talk. He didn’t move from his position against the window or open his eyes, but he did continue. “She’s not really into stuff being legal, you know. Normal laws or magic laws. Always thought they got in the way, that...that...her. That...name.”

“Yvonne.” Jackie gently bumped Marvin’s shoulder with his own.

“Right.”

Jack gave the others a meaningful look. Memory issues. One of the lingering side effects Marvin and Jackie were dealing with. They could forget something in seconds. Jackie had taken to writing things down, if not with an actual pen and paper, then by finger-spelling it on his hand over and over. Marvin just sort of let it happen, only writing down the really important stuff. “Anyway, it’s all fixed,” Jack continued, looking back over at the other two. “You guys can...y’know, start doing stuff again. When you want. Move out, if you feel like it.”

“Thanks,” Jackie said. He sounded oddly reluctant. Marvin didn’t even bother to answer.

Chase cleared his throat. “Speaking of moving out, Schneep, did you get your apartment back yet?”

Schneep scowled. “I am so close. The stupid building owner is still insisting on keeping it all preserved, and I say, ‘for what?!’ You are clearly not going to sell it, if everything is still how it is when I was living there. So just let me live in! The police do not care anymore, anyway, so there is no crime scene!”

He probably liked the idea of having a flat where someone who disappeared lived, JJ suggested. It lends a bit of mystery and gives the building a reputation. People might want to move in because of that.

“Well he will still have it! I will just be actually there!” Schneep folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. “Ugh. Jamie, I like you, but your guest room is tiny.”

JJ gave a huff of a laugh. Sorry, Hen. I’d never really needed one before so I didn’t hear any complaints. 

“Oh, Chase, what about you? How’s the house search coming?” Jack asked.

“Fine.” Chase shrugged. “I got a few to look at. Y’know Stacy doesn’t seem to mind me staying over. I was surprised, given how she, um...wanted to move out so much a few years ago.”

“Well, things change,” Jack said cheerfully.

“Yeah. I guess that’s an upside of this, we’re, like...friends.” Chase said the word in a tone of bewildered, but welcomed, happiness. The way someone would react to hearing good news that they’d thought was no longer an option. “Again, I mean. A-and I don’t think it’s gonna go further, but...still.”

“That’s great, my friend.” Schneep patted the back of Chase’s hand.

“Yeah, that’s great!” Jackie repeated, suddenly enthusiastic. “So, like, we should order food, right?”

“Oh right.” Jack nodded. “Hang on.” He stood up, looking towards the back of the restaurant where the door to the kitchen was. A waiter was walking out at that moment, and caught sight of the group, quickly indicating he’d be right there. “Oh, nice. I was confused, really, if like this was the type of place where people would come over or if we had to go up there.” Jack sat back down and picked up the menu. “We should go all out. This is a celebration.”

I think I can get a drink, JJ signed slowly.

“Really?” Jack asked, surprised.

Yes, I think the stitches have loosened up enough for that, JJ said more confidently. A small straw or a bit of liquid. Just so long as nobody’s looking when I take off my mask.

“Awesome, man,” Chase said cheerfully. “Honestly, this place looked good on the website. We should get a lot.”

“Celebration,” Schneep repeated, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful. Celebration lunch.”

And for most of them, it was just that, wonderful. They were meeting up again, the last of their troubles were ending. Things were looking up.

But a corner of the table was a bit gloomier. Jackie and Marvin were pretty quiet all throughout the lunch. Neither of them ate that much. Marvin kept his eyes closed or looking down at his plate, and Jackie paid more attention to the salt and pepper shakers than anything else. Once the lunch was over and after everyone said their goodbyes, they followed Jack back to his apartment, where they were staying, and drifted off to separate activities. A book for Marvin, an old laptop for Jackie.

They never once said anything to each other.

— — — — — — —

Ignisa: a spell to conjure fire.

Marvin read the simple command word over and over, repeating it mentally. Ignisa. Ignisa. It was one of the simplest spells out there, and one of the first ones he learned. He could visualize the page of the book he read it in. He remembered it. Really, he did. Most of the time. For the occasions that he didn’t he’d written down the command and what it did on a spare bit of paper.

“Ignisa,” he whispered, staring down at his hands, cupped as if to hold water. He sat in the center of the floor in the spare bedroom, as far away from furniture as possible. “Ignisa. Ig-NI-sa. IG-ni-sa. Ig-ni-SA.” Yet, no matter how many times he repeated it, no matter how he pronounced it or how loud he spoke it, no matter how much he concentrated on the feeling of fire bursting forth in his hands...there wasn’t even a spark.

“Fuck.” Marvin gave up, burying his face in his hands. He squeezed his eyes to contain tears of frustration, but he still let one or two sobs slip out. Why couldn’t he do anything? No fire, no lights, no telekinesis. All the magic he remembered was useless. The only spell that sort of worked was teleportation, in fact he actually found it easier now than it used to be, but he couldn’t quite control it. If he was lucky, he’d end up close to where he wanted to be, and if he was unlucky, he teleported to the middle of the sky twenty miles away. That...hadn’t been a fun evening.

There were only a few spells that worked perfectly for him. Taking a few deep breaths, Marvin lifted his head up, and pressed his hands close together, palm to palm. Slowly, he pulled them away from each other. In the space between them were blue glowing threads of magic, which got longer the farther apart his hands got. If he wanted, he could use these strings like a weapon, grabbing things, pinning them to the wall, and maybe with practice he could use them to swing, like some sort of discount magical Spider-Man. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want anything to do with these. Scowling, Marvin brushed his hands together, and the strings disappeared.

Someone knocked on the door, and Marvin yelped in surprise. He quickly got to his feet. “Wh-who is it?”

“It’s Jack,” a voice said. “Can I come in?”

“Um...sure.”

Jack opened the door, poking his head in through the gap. “Hey Jackie’s making noodles for dinner. Do you want any?”

Did he? Marvin wasn’t really hungry. He didn’t really feel hungry that often anymore. Or maybe he did, and just couldn’t recognize the feeling. Jackie was the same way, but that didn’t stop him from trying to eat. After a bit, Marvin decided it would probably be better safe than sorry. “...Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” Jack hesitated. “Do you...want anything? Need anything?”

Marvin hesitated. He glanced over at Jack before looking away. Wait, why was one of Jack’s eyes a slightly different shade of blue? When had that—oh. Right. “No.”

“Alright...if you’re sure,” Jack said reluctantly. “Come out whenever you’re ready.” And with that, he left.

Just in time, too. Marvin backed up until his legs hit the edge of the bed. Immediately, he fell back onto the mattress, pressing his hands against his eyes. “Stop thinking about it,” he said to himself. “Stop thinking about it, stop it, stop.” That only seemed to make it worse. Images flashed in his head, leftover memories that weren’t his, but also were, and were also Jackie’s and someone else’s. The others called him Anti. Anti’s memories. They would pop up whenever something triggered them, and that ‘something’ was usually one of the others. Right now, the memories were about Jack, about what happened to his eye. Marvin could hear himself—no, Anti—laughing.

Shaking, Marvin slowly stood up again, staggering across the room to the door. Why was it that sometimes, his balance just didn’t work? Why was he so clumsy now? He grabbed the doorknob but didn’t open it, just pressing his forehead into the wood. These were the consequences for his actions. The memories, the problems with his magic, the lack of balance. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t gotten into his head that trying the transference spell would be fine, that not telling Jackie wouldn’t cause any problems...It hadn’t even been about helping people, like how Jackie probably wanted to, he just wanted to see if he could do it, to see if he could increase his power. And he caused everything. So this was his punishment. Served him right.

— — — — — — —

“Marvin says he wants dinner,” Jack said, leaning into the kitchen/dining room.

“Okay,” Jackie said cheerfully, grabbing another bowl from the cabinet. It was easy, since that particular cabinet was missing its door. It would probably stay that way for a while, too, since with all the other repairs the apartment required it wasn’t a high enough priority. Jackie set the bowl on the counter next to two others, then looked over at the pot of water. It wasn’t steaming or boiling. Did he forget to turn the heat on? He tapped the edge of the burner under the pot.

“Jackie!” Jack gasped.

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s not on,” Jackie assured him. “I was just checking.”

“You mean you didn’t know if it was on?!”

“It probably wasn’t.” Jackie looked up to see the dial hadn’t been turned. Oh. He probably could have looked at the dial before touching the burner. Well, whatever. He reached over and turned the dial to the 7 mark.

“Please be careful,” Jack said, looking nervous. “You could get hurt.”

“I am being careful,” Jackie said. It didn’t really matter, anyway. He was having trouble feeling pain lately. Or...most things, actually. It was weird, he was a bit numb. Not by too much, but enough to be noticeable, to know that he hadn’t been like that before. Marvin was just the opposite, nowadays he was constantly being overwhelmed with the texture and feel of things. But he was always more sensitive to sensations than the rest of them.

“Well, be even more careful,” Jack insisted. He backed out of the kitchen. “I’m gonna, uh, hang out in the living room. Tell me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Jackie nodded. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Alright.” Jack hesitated for a second before turning away and leaving.

Everything was fine. Jack really didn’t need to worry, Jackie had everything covered. Making food was easy, really. It was something that he did all the time. The process was automatic, especially for making pasta. Just wait for a bit, occasionally stirring, then drain the water. It was all good. This was a normal thing that normal people did. Things were normal.

Of course, Jackie knew that every single thing he’d just thought to himself was a lie. But it was easier to pretend. Sometimes he pretended so hard that it felt like he was watching a movie filmed in the first-person, instead of actually existing in this body.

Oh, it was happening now, actually. Jackie watched as his hand pulled open the cutlery drawer and took out a long spoon. Then the hand started stirring the pasta in the pot. It was starting to get hot now. There was steam. How hot was it? The other hand reached forward and—

“Shit!” Jackie snapped back to reality, pulling his hand away from the side of the metal pot. “Ah. Fuck.” He looked down. The skin of his fingers was a bit red and tender. He opened and closed his fist a few times to help the leftover burning feeling fade away.

“Is everything okay?” Jack was back, apparently having heard Jackie shout. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just brushed against the side,” Jackie explained.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Well...okay, then.” Jack reluctantly backed out of view.

Everything was fine. Oh look, the pasta was suddenly done. Time had just flown past. Jackie poured the pasta into the strainer and then scooped it into the bowls. Marvin showed up, and then Jack, and they all ate in silence, after which Jack excused himself to go back to his recording room to do some editing. The moment he’d replaced all the broken computer parts, he’d gone back to making videos, though not nearly as frequently as before. That was...nice. Nice that he could do that.

Jackie wondered what he was supposed to do now. Not just for the rest of the day, but...for the rest of ever. He wanted things to be fine, to be normal, and he was pretty good at pretending they were. But they. Just. Weren’t. He couldn’t find the energy to start looking for a job, or for a new apartment, or even for new clothes. But at the same time, he didn’t want to keep borrowing from Jack. He didn’t want to just stay in place, but he couldn’t move forward.

At one point, he’d thought about going back out onto the streets. He didn’t know what happened to his old super suit, but he could make a new one. Then that train of thought had immediately crashed to a halt with a flash of memory. Not his, but also his. Anti’s. A memory with so much pain in it, and feeling glad at that pain. Somehow triumphantly vindicated to see suffering. No. Someone like that couldn’t be a hero.

So things continued. The same things. Every day.

Everything was fine.

— — — — — — —

Time passed. Autumn progressed, and it became cooler as September blended into October. Jack kept fixing up the apartment, and it was beginning to look good as new. Schneep finally convinced the building owner to let him back into his place, and so he moved out of JJ’s building. Chase was still having trouble finding a house, but he was glad to spend more time with Lily and Moira, absolutely doting on the two of them. Business at JJ’s shop started to pick up again, though he had to get used to carrying around a notepad since most customers didn’t know sign language.

Jackie and Marvin stayed where they were.

One night, a storm rolled over the city. Rain pounded the ground, thunder rumbled in the distance, and nobody went out of their houses. That night, Marvin went into the apartment’s bathroom and pressed his face against the small window to watch the storm. There wasn’t much to see. The glass was cloudy for privacy. But there was water running down the other side, droplets racing each other to the bottom.

Then there was a flash, and a fork of lightning split the window in half. A second later came the thunder. Marvin heard someone gasp, and jumped, spinning around to see Jackie standing in the open bathroom doorway. “Oh. Sorry,” Jackie muttered. “I just saw the lights on in here and—nevermind.”

Marvin just looked at him for a bit, then turned back to the window. Jackie stood there for a moment, then started to turn away.

“Jackie?”

He stopped at the sound of Marvin’s quiet voice. “Yeah?”

“Are we...bad people?”

Jackie didn’t answer, and that was an answer on its own.

“Should we...be here?”

“What do you mean?” Jackie asked.

Marvin started pulling at his fingers. “Just...what if something...happens?”

Jackie paled. “I-it’ll be okay. It’s all okay.”

“Okay.”

Neither of them moved. Then, quietly, Jackie admitted something. “I don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t?” Marvin finally turned around.

“I don’t think I should,” Jackie whispered. “Just...everyone is nice to us. But we...hurt them. Or, kind of us. I mean, he was still us, right?”

Marvin nodded. “I remember doing it.”

“Me too.”

“He can’t come back, though. Right?”

“I mean...no,” Jackie said slowly. “But what if we...what if something happens?” He echoed Marvin’s own words back at him.

Marvin was silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be here, either.”

“Should we leave?”

“What would we do?”

“I don’t know.” Jackie glanced down the hall, towards Jack’s bedroom. “But they’re...good people. And we’re.... We don’t...” He trailed off.

Another crack of thunder.

“Should we leave a note?” Marvin asked.

“No. They can figure it out. Should we stay together?”

“Maybe at first.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, the power in the apartment building went out. Jack left his bedroom, holding a flashlight. “Hey guys? The storm knocked the lights out. You okay?”

No answer. Not surprising, Jackie and Marvin could be pretty quiet. So Jack went to look for them.

But...they weren’t there. Not in the spare bedroom, not in the bathroom, not in the kitchen, not in the living room. “Guys?” he called, voice rising in worry. “Guys?!”

Still no answer. Swearing under his breath, Jack went back to his bedroom and picked up his phone from where he’d left it. He opened up the group chat and sent a message.

Jackie and Marvin are gone. I think they’ve left.

— — — — — — —

It was still storming when they got off the bus to look around. With the rain pouring down, it was hard to make out details of anything. There were the vague, tall shapes of buildings, the long stretches of clear roads and sidewalks...but everything else was a bit cloudy. “We should’ve brought an umbrella,” Marvin said, trying to shield himself from the rain by covering his head with his arms. It didn’t work.

“I didn’t think he had one,” Jackie said, peering through the falling water. “Do you want my jacket?”

“No, I’m fine.” Marvin shivered.

“I...okay, if you’re sure you’re alright,” Jackie said reluctantly. “Here, there’s a street sign over on that corner.” He walked up to the sign, Marvin trailing after him. “Uh...Everwood Lane. I...I don’t remember where that is. Do you?”

“No,” Marvin admitted. They hadn’t really had much of a plan, had they? Just up and left, trusting they’d figure it out in the moment. Saw a bus stopping at a nearby station, and hopped aboard, pretending to swipe bus passes so the driver, who wasn’t really paying any attention, wouldn’t notice. Then they’d gotten off at random, once they realized they’d been sitting in the bus for a while and they had to be far away by then. Why had they thought any of that would be a good idea? Why had he just gone along with it? 

“Well, uh. Let’s get inside.” Jackie pressed on, now walking up to the entrance of the nearest building. “Maybe we can ask someone in there, and it’ll be dry.” See? This would work out.

Luckily, that building turned out to be open, and they stepped into a front hall. It looked nice, but was completely empty. The only things of note were the pair of elevators, the door labelled ‘Stairwell,’ another unlabelled door, and a directory on a sign attached to the wall.

“No one’s here,” Marvin muttered.

“Someone has to be here, everything’s on.” Jackie scanned the directory. The building was nine floors tall, plus the ground floor, and every floor was listed as belonging to some business, each with operating hours attached. “Uh...what time is it?”

“...I don’t remember,” Marvin said. “And there’s no clock here. And we don’t have phones.”

“It’s fine, we’ll—we’ll just check around,” Jackie said optimistically. He walked over to the unmarked door and grabbed the handle, starting to push it open. Only to stop short when the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. Okay. That was fine. There were more options. Jackie turned around. “C’mon, we’ll take the lifts.”

“Mm-hmm.” Marvin nodded, following him to the elevators.

The elevator arrived, doors sliding open, and the two of them stepped in. “Right, we’ll just start with the first floor,” Jackie said, pressing the button. He waited for a few seconds, but the elevator wasn’t moving. The button hadn’t lit up. “Um...” He pressed it again. Then a couple more times. Then he tried the other buttons, pushing them hard.

“There’s a card reader attached,” Marvin pointed out, nodding towards a black box mounted on the elevator’s panel. “I don’t think it’ll work without the right card.”

“Oh.” Jackie was momentarily at a loss, but then he recovered. They just had to keep moving. That’s all. “I guess we’ll take the stairs, then.”

The stairwell was tall, white, and empty, metal stairs spiralling upwards with only a railing keeping the people walking up and down from falling off. Jackie led the way, climbing up the stairs quickly with Marvin a bit behind. But there was no luck. All the doors that led into the floors were blocked by the same card readers as in the elevators. Just in case, Jackie still tried to open them, both pushing and pulling, but to no avail. So they just kept climbing, stopping at every story so Jackie could try the doors with increasing desperation, while Marvin watched him with increasing annoyance.

Until finally, they reached the last door, this one labelled ‘Roof Access.’ Surprisingly, this one didn’t have a card reader. Jackie hesitated, then pushed it open, letting in a spray of rain from the storm outside. 

“Okay, this was useless,” Marvin said. “Let’s—”

“Well, maybe there’s someone outside,” Jackie suggested.

“In the rain?”

But Jackie was already heading out, pulling on his hood as he stepped into the storm.

Of course there wasn’t anyone there. Disregarding the misery of the weather, it was hard to see anything, including the railing that marked the edge of the roof. It would be dangerous to be up there. But Jackie still walked forward, looking around, until he eventually found that railing along the edge, grabbing the rain-slicked metal to orient himself.

“No one’s here!” Marvin shouted over a clap of thunder. He’d followed Jackie out onto the roof and was now standing about an arm’s length behind him, looking extremely unhappy about the whole situation. “Let’s go!”

“Right.” Jackie nodded. “We’ll just—just try another building, and ask where we are.”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll—we’ll get a hotel.”

“How will we pay for it?”

“Uh...okay, not a hotel. We’ll...find our way to someone’s house, o-or something, and ask if we can stay.”

“What if no one lets us in?”

“We’ll—we’ll find an empty building.” Jackie grasped desperately at a way to salvage this situation, a way that wouldn’t involve them going back. He wasn’t even sure he could find his way back; he’d forgotten Jack’s address somewhere on the way. “Yeah. And then we’ll go to sleep, and in the morning, figure out a better plan. Yeah! It’s fine. Everything will be fi—”

“Everything will not be fucking fine, Jackie!” Marvin suddenly burst out. “This was a terrible idea! Why did we think to do this?! Why did I go along with it?! It’s raining, there’s lightning, we’re lost, my clothes are wet which I hate more than murder, and you’re being delusional!”

“I—I am being optimistic!” Jackie spluttered, letting go of the railing so he could face Marvin head-on. “I am trying to make the best of a difficult situation—”

“We shouldn’t even be out here!” Marvin interrupted. Another crack of thunder rang throughout the sky, even louder than before. “You suggested this! Why’d you suggest it?”

“Well, why did you ask if we should’ve been staying with the others if you weren’t prepared to leave?” Jackie countered. “You didn’t have to come with me! You didn’t have to go out at all!”

“Oh yeah, what was I going to do, tell Jack and the others, ‘sorry, I don’t know where they went, they said they were leaving and I thought that was alright’? No!”

“You could’ve convinced me to stay!” Jackie shouted. “You could’ve shot it down when I said it! But you went along, so you must have wanted to leave, too!”

“I—yeah, but it was more of a vague thing!” Marvin protested. “A what-if! I didn’t expect us to go right then!”

Jackie grabbed Marvin by the shirt. “Then why did you leave?! Why did we leave?! Why did we want to leave?!”

The sky lit up a brilliant white, electricity crashing. A bolt of lightning had hit a lightning rod attached to the building’s roof, only a room’s width away from the two of them. Sparks flew. Marvin screamed. Jackie instinctively covered him, hugging him tight to his chest and bending over. The sound was deafening, thunder right next to their heads, and even after it faded their ears echoed with the remains of it.

“Holy shit!” Jackie gasped, blinking the brilliant light from his eyes. His eyes...which were now glowing. The left was bright green, the right an equally bright red. Marvin’s were also glowing, though his right eye was the green one, and the other one was blue. “That was—oh my god. Marvin, are you okay?”

Marvin didn’t answer for a moment. He just stared at the lightning rod, still faintly glowing from being struck. And then...he let out a quiet sob.

“M...Marvin?” Jackie took a closer look at him, and realized his face wasn’t just wet from the rain. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s fucking not,” Marvin cried. “All I could think about while we were walking up those stairs—all I could think about were the memories, the—you know the ones, the—I wasn’t even there, I was somewhere else. I hate this. I hate this! I hate what’s happened to me! I hate that it’s my fault!”

“Your fault?!” Jackie repeated.

“My stupid fucking selfish spell,” Marvin sobbed. “It’s all because of that! Everything happened because of that! Of course I should’ve realized, if the things I did after the spell were—were like that, then of course! Of course I’m a horrible fucking person that wouldn’t care about what that spell might do!”

“Marvin—”

“And you’re just going around acting like everything is alright!” Marvin said, jabbing a finger into Jackie’s chest. “You just like—like nothing happened, you keep saying everything is fine, it might be for you, but it’s not for me! No it’s fine, it doesn’t matter!”

“I just want everything to move on, Marvin!” Jackie said, grasping Marvin’s upper arms and pulling him close. “Everything has to be fine, but it’s not, so I have to pretend it is! Because if I stop pretending, all I can think about is what I’ve done. Every time I look at the others, I remember how I hurt them! Every time I look at you, I remember how I killed you!”

Silence, and the sound of rain.

“I didn’t...didn’t know you felt that way,” Marvin said, barely audible.

“I didn’t know you did, either,” Jackie whispered.

“That’s ironic, isn’t it?” Marvin commented dully. “Aren’t we connected now? Aren’t our souls all...mixed up with each other?”

“Yeah...” Jackie nodded. “Yeah.”

The two of them stared at each other. Eyes wide, hearts pounding, breathing heavy. Letting themselves be rained on. Until—

The door to the rooftop burst open, and a couple flashlight beams fell onto the two of them.

“Marv!”

“Jackie!”

“My friends!”

It was the others. All of them. Chase was in front with Jack close behind, then Schneep in the back holding onto Jameson’s arm for extra support. “Are you two okay?!” Chase asked.

“What happened?!” Jack added.

Is everything alright? JJ signed.

“Why did you go?” Schneep said.

Jackie took a step backwards, letting go of Marvin, who was too in shock to even notice. “You guys...h-how’d you find us?”

“JJ did,” Chase explained.

Luckily the tracking spell still works, JJ said. How did you two even get here? It’s the other side of town!

“I...we took the bus,” Jackie said numbly. “How—why are you here?”

“We came to find you, of course!” Schneep said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?” Marvin asked quietly.

“What?! Because you’re our friends!” Chase said, gaping. “If you leave to go out with no note, no anything, in the middle of a thunderstorm—” Thunder rumbled in the distance as if to prove his point. “—and without any way for anyone to contact you, anything could have happened! We were so fucking worried!”

“...why?” Marvin repeated.

“You’re our friends,” Jack reiterated. “We care about you. What if you got hurt? That would be—fuck. I-I don’t even want to think about it.”

Jackie felt tears in his eyes, and he let them slip out, hidden by the rain. “But—but it was going to be better this way.”

“Better? Better?!” Schneep repeated incredulously. “No no no no no no, we went through so much to see you again. You cannot just disappear! And less expect us to be fine with it!”

“But...w-we—I—I hurt you!” Jackie blurted out. “So much! I mean, look at yourselves! You still have the scars!”

“That wasn’t you,” Chase said gently, slowly approaching. “That was Anti.”

“Well, Anti was us.”

“Anti was two parts you guys and, like, seventeen parts black magic,” Chase said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It feels like it,” Marvin muttered. “You’d say the same if you remembered doing it.”

“What if something happens?” Jackie said, his voice hushed. “What if we...while we’re around you guys, what if we...hurt you? Th-there’s a possibility, right? As long as we’re around.”

Jack’s next question was soft, almost unheard through the rain. “You don’t want to hurt anyone, right?”

“No!” Jackie said, aghast. Marvin shook his head furiously.

“Then you won’t,” Jack said firmly. “I mean, sure, there will be accidents. But you can’t run from everyone because you’re afraid you might hurt them. A life like that would be so lonely. We trust you. Both of you. And you trust us. That’s what friendship’s built on, isn’t it? Trust.”

Jackie fell silent. The four of them stood firm, agreeing with Jack’s sentiment. Did they...really want them to stay?

“We don’t—” Marvin stammered. “I-I-I don’t—we’re—I’m—not...the type of person...who should have friends.”

“What?” Jack asked, shocked.

“You’re all so nice, a-and good,” Marvin said. “We...I don’t...deserve you.”

“That is ridiculous,” Schneep said. “Marvin, and Jackie, you are both some of the best friends I ever had, and the same goes for everyone else.”

“We’re not...good people,” Marvin said desperately. “If we were Anti, we can’t have been. Good people wouldn’t become...that. A-and you’re all just saying it ‘cause you’re friends.”

Can I say something? JJ, who’d been waiting on the sidelines, finally spoke up. Look, I barely know either of you. I’m new to all this. But I can tell that neither of you are bad people. Flawed, yes, but so is everyone. Chase said that Anti was mostly black magic, and he’s right. You can’t be blamed for what that entity did; its perception was warped and broken. You two are nice, you seem smart, you’re friendly to others. You are not bad people.

“Look, I know, it’s hard to accept that you deserve nice things,” Chase jumped in. “But you do. You want to step away from friends and good things because you think you’re not worthy. It’s gonna be hard to accept that you are. But that’s why we’re here, okay? To help you accept that.”

“And to point out when you need something,” Schneep added. “Something that you think is above you. I swear, I will fight every single bad thought you have, anything that tells you that you do not deserve all the care and love that you do.”

Jack laughed a bit. “Yeah. We all will.”

Both of them were crying, and despite the falling rain, it was quite obvious. Marvin reached over and grabbed Jackie’s hand, pulling him close. “I...I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Jackie nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rasping. “I...we should...I’m going to go back. Are you going to?”

“Yeah. I’m going back, too.”

Jackie nodded again, then let go of Marvin’s hand. He took a deep breath, and walked over to join the others.

Marvin shivered. The rain was starting to feel even colder than it had before. But as he carefully stepped towards the group, it felt a bit warmer.

The moment the two were close, the remaining four huddled around them. Hands were held and tears were shed, slowly joining together in a tight group hug. Everyone kept saying how proud they were of them, how happy they were to have them back, how much they loved them. And more tears leaked out, though of a different sort of emotion altogether. They were so caught up in the moment that they didn’t even notice the rain until they headed back down the stairs.

And as the six headed home, the storm started to lessen.

— — — — — — —

“Can’t believe it’s actually snowing,” Jack muttered, brushing white flakes off his coat. “It never snows here.”

“I like it.” Jackie looked around, taking in the white blanket covering the park, then up at the sky. “Everything looks all clean. I like how the snow is all smooth.”

“Mm. Won’t be for long.” Jack pointed. The two of them were content to sit at a picnic table, sheltered from the snowfall by a nearby tree. But some ways away, two girls were running through the snow, pelting their dad with snowballs. Chase was laughing. It was good to see. Lily tripped over something in the snow, and he bent over to help her up. “There’s gonna be so many footprints when they’re done with it.”

“Aw.” Jackie frowned, pulling his coat closer. He didn’t really feel the cold, but it still affected him, so he had to make sure to dress appropriately for any weather. “Hey...when will the others be here? Do you think they forgot we were going to meet up?”

“I don’t—wait.” Jack paused. “Nope, there they are.”

A car pulled into the nearby lot, and three people stepped out. JJ recently got his license, so he and Chase had become the chauffeurs of the group. He looked around, then waved at the others, turning back to point them out to Marvin and Schneep. The three headed over, and Jack and Jackie made room for them at the table.

“It is so cold!” Schneep immediately started complaining. “There is going to be so much ice later, it is awful!”

“Oh shush, you like having cold weather so you can have warm drinks and stuff,” Marvin said.

“Okay, yes, but that is inside, where I cannot risk the chance of slipping,” Schneep griped.

JJ laughed. Speaking of warm drinks. He pulled his backpack off and rifled through it, taking out a couple thermoses. I thought if we were going to be meeting up out here, we should keep hot.

“Oh nice!” Jack grabbed one with his name written on the side in sharpie. “What’s this?”

Tea and coffee. And hot chocolate for the kids, JJ explained.

“Sweet,” Jackie said, leaning over to grab one as well.

“So, uh...” Jack cleared his throat, and turned to Marvin. “How’d it go?”

Marvin leaned back, rocking slightly on the picnic bench. “Good, I think. I mean, it’s just the first session, but...it was a good sign, I guess.”

“Hey, uh, Marv?” Jackie said. “I...forgot the address.”

“Oh. Right. It’s uh...Hang on a moment.” Marvin pulled out his phone, opening up the notes. “547 Norwich, on the east side. You can’t miss it, there’s a big sign with ‘Riverwood Counseling” on the front. You’re, uh...going soon?”

“Next week.” Jackie copied the address into his own phone. “‘M a bit nervous,” he mumbled.

“Nothing to be afraid of,” Schneep said encouragingly. “They are very good, very reputable. And if things are not working, they will transfer you to someone new without any charge.”

Jackie smiled a bit. “Well, I guess if you guys trust them.”

At that moment, Chase and the girls got tired of their snowball fight and came over to the table. “Hi!” Lily said brightly. “Ooooh, what’s that?”

“It’s a thermos,” Moira explained to her sister. “They’re for hot things like soup. And hot chocolate.”

“Well, would you look at that? There are two with your names on them,” Chase said brightly. “Here you go. JJ, you brought them, right?”

JJ nodded. Cocoa for them. And this one has some tea for you.

“Oh sweet! Thanks, Jays.”

It had been a few months, and the group had decided to meet up for some casual catching up. Chase had finally gotten a new house, just a rental but he hoped to find one for himself eventually. Schneep had started taking online classes. Since he couldn’t exactly continue his surgeon profession he decided to go back and find something else to do. He was particularly interested in physics, and he was convinced that it could explain how his new magic worked. Jack’s apartment was almost entirely repaired, and the Internet had finally settled down about his disappearance. JJ’s shop was picking up business again.

And Marvin and Jackie? Well, they’d found themselves a new place. A small townhouse, just big enough for both of them, part of a row of houses with connected walls. At first, they’d debated whether or not to continue living together or to live separately, but eventually decided on the former. After all, they still had problems, with memory and movement, and more, and decided it would be easier to live with someone who could help out. They were still working on finding new jobs. Jackie wanted something active, and Marvin wanted something quiet. The search was slow going, but they were making do. Jackie had been particularly bored at night, but didn’t want to go out and try being a vigilante again. Maybe eventually. Marvin was still relearning how to use his magic, and was teaching Jackie how to, as well, given Jackie’s new abilities.

The group had been talking for about half an hour when suddenly Moira tugged on the edge of Chase’s coat. “Dad? Who’s that? She’s been staring at us.”

Chase looked over towards where Moira was pointing, and his eyes widened. “Guys. Look who it is,” he said quietly.

The others all glanced in the same direction. “Shi—oh no,” Jack muttered. “It’s that—that magician. Delyth.”

JJ sighed. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time.

“Who?” Marvin asked.

“She’s with the, uh, the magic police,” Jack explained.

“Oh fu—” Marvin quickly ducked his head, deliberately not looking over to where Delyth was standing, casually leaning against a tree.

“Should we talk to her?” Chase asked.

“I think so,” Schneep said. He paused, then stood up. “I will.”

“Wait, no, she’s coming over here!” Jackie gasped.

There was a sudden flurry of activity as the group tried to act casually, pretending they hadn’t seen her and weren’t keeping an eye on her as she walked over. Until eventually, they couldn’t pretend any longer.

Delyth stopped next to the table. “So...it is you,” she said slowly. “You know, you gave us one hell of a scare when you disappeared.”

“Hey, language,” Chase said, indicating the two small girls sitting next to him.

“Oh. Sorry.” Delyth paused. “We were looking for you, but it was like you all just...disappeared. Correct me if I’m wrong, but was a certain other magician helping with that?” Nobody answered. They weren’t about to throw Yvonne under the bus. Delyth shook her head. “Never should’ve given her access to ABIM systems,” she muttered.

“Did you want something?” Schneep asked.

“Hmm...well, no, not really.” Delyth looked them over, making eye contact with each. “You know, the ABIM is pretty busy. If a case hasn’t been active for two months, it’s deemed low priority, provided there’s no significant danger. If four months pass, we have to permanently shelve it, until there’s evidence for it becoming active again. Marked as unsolved, and people tend to forget about it.” She looked down at her watch. “Well, I have to go. It’s been nice seeing you all again. It’s been, what, five months?” After a moment, she nodded towards Jackie and Marvin. “Glad to see it all worked out. Goodbye.”

 The group remained mostly silent as she left, though Jack muttered a quiet “goodbye” and JJ waved as Delyth disappeared into a car in the parking lot and drove away. Then, once she was gone, Chase turned to the others. “What was that about?”

I think that was her saying the magicians won’t bother us, JJ signed, a bit in awe.

“Oh thank god,” Marvin breathed. “I don’t want to be on their bad side anymore. No more magic police, thank you very much.”

“She could have been a bit more direct with it, though,” Jackie added.

Jack just laughed. “Wow. So, I guess that’s the last we’ll see of her, then?”

“Provided nothing else strange happens to us,” Schneep pointed out.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t. I’ve had enough strangeness for my entire life.”

So...is it over, then? JJ asked slowly.

“Dad, what was that about?” Lily asked. “Who was that? What did she mean?” Moira nodded, agreeing with all the questions.

“Oh, it’s a bit complicated.” Chase pulled his daughter close and gave her a quick hug. “But it’s nothing to worry about anymore. I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“I guess it’s over,” Jackie repeated.

“Yeah...guess so,” Jack agreed.

Time went on, as it always does. The group ended their get-together shortly after, parting ways for a short while. After a few more months, the strange disappearances faded into local legend, with people speculating what happened but nobody getting close to the truth that was only known to a small group of six friends. Magic remained, side effects lingered, but they settled back into their place, becoming the new normal.

Still, none of them forgot what happened to them for those three years. It would be hard not to. They had scars to prove it, and some memories would never fade. But the past was the past. And together, they moved on, looking forward to the future.

[popunktomlinson]

this is everything i’ve read in the past month put into a list for the sole benefit of my short term memory. it’s a mess of pairings but mostly drarry and can be summed up as lots of enemies to lovers, excessive pining, and a splash of fake dating.

Drarry:

What Real Thing? - loveglowsinthedark (13k)

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Aural Gratification - birdsofshore (11k)

Harry's not gay – he just likes listening to exciting stories about Aurors. It's not his fault that the narrator's voice is so smooth, so expressive... and really rather hot.

You open always (petal by petal) - birdsofshore (65k)

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

Lumos - birdsofshore (41k)

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

Heartlines - shiftylinguini (73k)

Harry never expected he’d end up chipping away at his virginity while wandless and bonded to Malfoy in Northern Europe.

He never expected that would turn out to be the least surprising thing to happen while out on their training expedition in the middle of nowhere, either.

The Sleeping Beauty Curse - who_la_hoop (153k)

When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he . . .?

Strange Bedfellows - orphan_account, ravenclawsquill (31k)

When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

A story about Deadly Nightshade, crippling insomnia, excellent wine … and finding what you need in the strangest of circumstances.

The Devil’s White Knight - orphan_account (65k)

When Harry wakes up in an alternate timeline--a timeline where Voldemort was defeated long before the first war--he discovers everything is different. His parents, his godfather, his friends--and him. Harry must deal with the consequences of who he would have been if he had been raised by his parents, and figure out where he stands with his casual hook up, Draco Malfoy.

Who Shagged Harry Potter? - faithwood (6k)

One beautiful sunny Sunday the Slytherins wake up after a raunchy night only to discover a very naked Harry Potter sleeping in their dormitory. Naturally, they ask themselves a logical question: Who the hell shagged him?

Draco Malfoy, It’s Your Lucky Day - faithwood (47k)

Even though he's unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

Love Comes Tumbling - taradiane (22k)

'Harry's thoughts were of how much he would have done differently with Malfoy over the years, and of Dumbledore's final words to the other boy . . . "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now." Maybe, Harry wondered, he could find some mercy, too, and give Malfoy the second chance that Dumbledore had believed him worthy of.’

punch-drunk fingerprints - tamerofdarkstars (2k)

In a world where every touch of a soulmate leaves a temporary heat mark on bare skin, Draco Malfoy suddenly finds his life devolving into a massive cliche because the Boy Who Lived Twice has no idea how to respect the personal space bubble.

Muggle Technology and Heroism - TommyLane (90k)

Draco Malfoy wasn’t exactly the best roommate Harry’s ever had. The man tended to watch way too much James Bond and his obsession with muggle technology not only rivaled Arthur Weasley’s but more often than not ended with Harry trying to assure him that the appliances weren’t out to get him. Then there was the little fact that Harry was hopelessly in love with him while Draco remained completely unaware, bringing nameless men home night after night.

But Harry loved his life and was somewhat (as long as he doesn’t actually think about it) content enough in the way things were going. That is until Draco’s old boyfriend comes sweeping back into town – making Draco breakfast and fixing the remote control before Harry can and forcing him to realize that if he doesn’t do something soon, that he might lose the man he loves before he even gets a chance to ever actually have him.

Party of Two - fireflavored (13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

A Dented Old Street Sign - orphanghost (27k)

Draco knows they aren't the only students who will be completing their NEWTs this year, but they are the only ones whose home fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network by the ministry.

At least, Draco assumes as much until he sees the light falling out from the front door of one of the other rickety old houses in front of them and the three figures cast in its warm glow. For a moment they look like some sort of strange, many legged creature. An acromantula, or a particularly massive Blast-Ended Skrewt. Then Draco hears Pansy make a disgusted sound beside him and the light falls in a less blinding way, and Draco can see that it is actually Potter and the Weasel carrying a large couch between them, and Granger fluttering around them with her wand out, seeming concerned.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along - lauren3210 (31k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

The Gentlewizard Club - Sophie_French (28k)

Draco wants what Draco wants. And if he has to snuggle up to Harry to get it, well, surely, Draco can handle that. Problem is, not sure Harry can.

Larry:

A Little Bit Like Fate - Galaxie (8k)

Louis stumbles upon a kiss-in protest for LGBTQ rights, and he meets Harry. They click. It feels a little bit like fate.

Go Nowhere Tonight - objectlesson (12k)

As always, the easy nonchalance with which he treats the rumors hurts, stabs Harry in the gut, twists the knife. Because it is hard for Harry; it’s hard to know people think they should be or are together because he wants that. Wants it so fucking badly, and it would be one thing if he could just silently quarantine that part of himself and pine secretly, but instead he’s faced with fictionalized accounts of his and Louis’s nonexistent love life and photoshopped pictures of them being coupley every time he’s on the internet. It is hard, and the fact that it supposedly isn’t for Louis functions as proof that it’s unrequited. “It’s gonna be a rude awakening for them,” he starts, gazing into his empty glass, “when we eventually come out but are dating other people. No one likes being half-right.”

Good Enough to Eat - objectlesson (7k)

“Okay. I just...fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

You Drive Me Crazy (I Just Can’t Sleep) - objectlesson (18k)

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Vinyl and Lace - objectlesson (8k)

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn't think it's very funny.

Wolfstar: 

Let Us Be Silent, That We May Hear the Whispers of the Gods - gyzym (2k)

Remus Lupin doesn't want to hear it--not tomorrow and not yesterday, but certainly not right now.

Trobed:

Advanced Ambulatory Ichthyology - gyzym (49k)

Course provides advanced instruction in avoidance of the phenomenon commonly known as "jumping the shark." Prerequisites for this course include Introduction to Friendship, Contemporary Best Friendship, The Politics of Emotional Baggage and Cohabitation 207. Students may wish to simultaneously enroll in our sister course, Introduction to Non-Traditional Romance, but said enrollment is optional.

Introduction to Women’s Studies - ama (7k)

You know the story. They're best friends, they're inseparable, Abra has a rainbow collection of hijabs as extensive and impressive as her graphic t-shirt collection and is the hottest girl Tory's seen outside of a mirror--not that that means anything. Right?

[prose-for-hire]

Love rises from the dust

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: OMG I NEEED A SEQUEL TO LOVE AND DUST IN THE AIR!!! That was so good!! I can totally see spike trying to do romantic gestures to ask her out but something keeps going wrong (xander messes with their picnic, they get interrupted by the newest big bad, willow practices her magic and accidentally makes spike bald, etc.) until she just shows up at his crypt one day with hot coco and movies and kisses him 😭😭😭 TOO CUTE!

Part one

Requested by: Anon

A/N: I had a great time writing this second part!! Spike is perhaps a little more self-deprecating than he is on the show?? A bit more William (Forgive me I am a big romantic if you couldn’t tell lol).

Planning to tell you he loved you was the easy part. He couldn’t help watching you, desperately trying to think of an excuse to get you alone. Buffy was always there though, or one of the other Scoobies. It was as if they were trying to spite him in every way possible. Blocking his happiness, blocking you from him.

You had noticed this too, you usually drew to him, sitting with him at the Magic Box or spending time with him in his crypt when you had time but ever since Giles had made a strange comment about Spike spending too much time around you it seemed like you had stopped seeing Spike all together. Yo uwere constantly busy, whether it was patrolling with Buffy or helping Willow with a spell. Xander had even roped you into helping with some project that was taking up a lot of your time.

Spike didn’t blame you, he blamed them. He had a suspicion that they were doing it on purpose, which was confirmed when Giles threatened him to stay away one night.

Despite this, Spike had a plan. They weren’t going to get in the way of your happiness. He was a man of his word and he was determined to tell you how he felt. He was nervous, so nervous. He couldn’t bare the rejection. Not from you. He loved you. His heart rose, every even seemingly insignificant interaction a journey in devotion for him. He adored you, he was desperate for you to know. To hear from him how special you were to him. How much you meant to him.

It was a practice in salvation. With you, he could see happiness. Almost taste it. He vowed to himself that he would treasure you should you accept his advances. That he would never take you for granted.

He decided he would have to do it sooner than later, so he started to plan out something romantic. Romance like you deserved. So, Spike had decided on a night-picnic. He hadn’t actually told you that was what was happening, he had suggested to patrol together, accidentally stumbling across the blanket, a few candles, and the brown bag filled with what appeared to be an entire aisle of the corner store. It looked as if he had put his arm on one end and sweeped everything into a basket from one end to the other.

You squealed excitedly, “Did you do this!?” Spike just shrugged a little, ducking his head. You moved over to kneel on the blanket and look into the basket. You sit, tugging his sleeve so that he’ll sit down next to you as you take the bag and start to rummage inside. However, your smiles didn’t last long as you grabbed something that Spike hadn’t put in there.

The bag, and snacks, exploded before you. A pile of goo in its place. Some of it on your outfit (that you had carefully selected to be both good for fighting and something you hoped Spike would like on you). You squeak, standing up. Wiping some of the goo but it stuck like glue.

Spike just stared, he hadn’t expected that. It appeared to be some cheap prank-magic. He heard chuckling from a bush and whipped his head around to see the boy.

His reaction didn’t appear too bothered, you had missed his jaw tensing as he didn’t want you to see him so mad. You muttered something about dropping in on Buffy’s, because it was so close, to ask if you could use her shower. This left Spike imagining all of the ways he would string Xander up and torture him, but instead had to settle for shouting insults whilst he followed him all the way home.

Spike had to find a few demons to beat up, walking past your house twice although there were no lights on. He felt stupid. He should have asked if you were okay, offered you his jacket. The goo was cold and would stick to you for a while.

A fact you found out at the Summer’s residence where you were now almost 90% covered in the purple substance that you were spreading around instead of washing off. You couldn’t figure out if Spike had done it to be cruel or it had been someone else’s sabotage. Either way, you felt stupid, worried Spike would think of you and laugh now instead of enjoying your company. You felt a little embarrassed.

It had been a few weeks and Spike had not stopped thinking about you and figuring out a way to make it up to you. You had no ill-will towards Spike by this time as you found out and beat up Xander for his trick. Thankfully, you were now completely your natural skin tone, with no purple hue left.

You had dropped in to tell him this and ended up staying. You were sat in the crypt together, realising Spike was mad at Xander still for the prank, rather than laughing at you. He smirked when you mentioned you had stamped on his foot and threatened more, asking you to retell the story several times. You decided you should drop some hints that you liked him, you were able to face horrible beasts on the Hellmouth but letting Spike know you felt for him was a little harder.

You decided to snuggle up to him, willing the words to formulate. You were sat together on the sofa, you hitched up to his side of the seat. He was aware of how close you were to him, daring to glance sideways to make sure it wasn’t an accident. You gradually moved closer, both of your eyes glued to the screen, you eventually managed to settle into his side and he moved to slip an arm around your shoulders. Your movements both slow, as if moving faster would ruin the scene, scare either of you away. He could hear how fast your heart was beating, he was desperate to say something but he didn’t want to ruin anything. Holding you, having you close. It was bliss.

Both of you were uncharacteristically quiet, the only sound the low buzzing of the tv set and the constant thrumming of your heart. You were trying to think of more ways to drop hints to Spike that you liked him, you maybe even felt the first syllable of love tingling on your tongue for him. You knew, however, that Spike liked to be the one to sort through his feelings and if he hadn’t said anything then surely it meant you felt more for him than he did for you.

You thought you might tell him that you were thinking of going to the Bronze on Saturday, that you’d really like to see him there. It wouldn’t hurt, he might even want to come. He seemed to enjoy the way your skin felt against his, his thumb moving soothingly ever so often. It was as if he was holding his breath, making sure that the moment would last as long as possible. He felt so happy like this, he didn’t want you to slip from his arms.

You open your mouth, willing yourself to ask, just as he appears to be doing the same. Time slowed, anticipation a dizzying phenomenon as if there were something in the air.

But something comes crashing in, taking the door off its hinges. The monster of the week, a massive troll-demon. Spike grabs you to protect you and then remembers who you are, then looks at you and you nod, a sparkle in your eye. He smirks, you both silently agree to work together.

You had your fighting stances ready, you fought so closely, as if it were expertly choreographed. You just fit. You took it down together, not able to stop smiling at each other as you caught your breath back. This was the best kind of foreplay for Spike. He could watch you fighting for hours, enamoured by the grace you held. The brutality, the expertise that almost matched his - he had a few hundred years on you, however.

By the time you had tracked and slayed the troll, you had ended up by your house. Spike walked you the rest of the way, looking as if you both wanted to say something. You tried, you really did. But you both just stared hopelessly at the other. At least meant you started to believe Spike may truly have feelings there for you in return.

Since the last time you and he had been in the crypt, Spike had been a little awkward around you. He had been overthinking everything, trying to force himself into saying something. Building himself up, only to come crashing down when you looked up at him with bright eyes and a smile that he noted seemed to widen in his presence. Or was that his mind playing tricks? He became so tongue-tied around you, he didn’t know what was wrong with him.

There was a meeting at the Magic Box that night and Spike had waited outside your house and offered to walk you there. You happily accepted and as you both walked together, you slip your hand into his. You both look at each other silently, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised. But yet the words still can’t form between you. He tried, as did you, to say something. Anything about the way you feel. But the moment passed, and you were needed inside. You step into the magic box, both moving your hands from each other reluctantly. The last thing you needed was the unwanted opinions of the Scoobies.

As soon as you stepped in there was chaos in the store. Willow was chanting, getting louder as the store started to spin around you and sparks started to fly towards the doorway. You ducked out of the way, but Spike wasn’t so fast. In the blink of an eye, Spike was now bald. The bleach blonde hair that you loved so much was gone. His hands went straight to his now hairless head and his eyes widened in horror, profanities shouted towards the entire room. He winced again, remembering you were beside him. He hated thinking you would take the harsh words to heart, trying to avoid the threats in front of you. They all laughed, his jaw tensing as if this brought back some kind of hidden memory. He was embarrassed, feeling as if he was laughable to you now.

You move to him, trying to reassure him, but he ran away. Hurt in his eyes shone directly into yours as if you could feel it yourself. The embarrassment so strong, as if you could feel it as your own. You knew then that you needed to go to him. Show him it didn’t matter what he looked like. That you both lived in Sunnydale where there would always be a threat interrupting your time together. That it didn’t matter to you that things would occasionally go wrong, or not go perfect like they are in the movies. You wanted to show him, that you wanted to be by his side. That you loved him. If you couldn’t say it yet, then you would make sure to show him.

Spike was now in the crypt, dejected and drinking. His hair had come back slowly over the last twenty-four hours. He slumped in his chair, trying to console himself. He never had a chance, was he being stupid? Someone as sweet as you, as caring. Someone as tough and able to handle themselves. What good was he to you? You were perfect. You were everything. God, he had it bad.

There was a knock at the crypt door. He frowned, nobody ever knocked. Nobody except… you.

“Y/n? It’s late, pet… shouldn’t you be tucked up?” He asked You checked the watch on your wrist with a little frown. It wasn’t so late. The sun had only barely set. He cared though, he really cared and that’s why he always checked. He didn’t like you being out after dark so much, despite the way he knew you could handle yourself.

“Uh, yeah, I just wanted to see you” You said, a little smile. He just stared, not sure why you would want to be here. All he had done was embarrass himself and you by trying to get close to you. You moved past him, he hadn’t noticed all of the bags in your hands until you put them down and started to look through them.

“What’s all this?”

“Movie night!” You exclaimed as you setting everything down.

“Movie…?” He started, shaking his head, “Why?”

“It’s a date, Spike” you say matter-of-factly as you brought out a stack of videos you had rented. You finally said something. He was speechless. Looking around at everything you had brought, not able to stop the smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Is that a flask?”

“For coco and, of course... little marshmallows!” You brandish a little pack from one of the bags with a smile so sweet he felt himself melting quicker than the marshmallows would.

He stared. You had caught him breathing exaggeratedly and starting sentences around you, but never quite finishing them. You hoped it was the same you were feeling. Your eyes betrayed you, having to sort through your mind for a response. You worried if you finally named it, the feeling might leave as quickly as it had built between you. This was exactly how he was feeling, not that you were aware.

“Pet, what’s all this? Really? Not that I’m not pleased to have you gracing my presence, but you don’t belong in a hovel like this..” he muttered, believing strongly that you deserved better than he could give you. He had proved that in the past few months. You stared, a frown on his face.

Could he really think that? Everything he had done, a picnic. Protecting you from the demon. walking you places in the dark. His concern for you, wanting you to never hear his harsh words he saved for the others. You loved this man so much.

He was so thoughtful. Kind, and he really cared. He made you feel safe. He was always soft with you. You didn’t understand how he could think you wouldn’t want to be right here. You never wanted to leave his side. He stared back, not understanding your look. He was expecting you to suddenly realise how much he didn’t deserve you. But this was never a thought in your mind.

You rushed up to him, hand sliding up the side of his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone. Your lips met, the kiss making your stomach flip, your heartbeat was drumming with nerves and excitement. You were convinced he was about to reject you, pull you away from him. But he never did. His hands were by his side for a moment, he was shocked when he felt your soft-lipped kiss. But not for long. No, soon his hands are on you, sliding behind the base of your skull pulling your lips as close as physically possible.  His lips deepening your kiss, unsaid feelings once only apparent through furtive glances and the ways your eyes met was now apparent. You smiled into the kiss, pleased with the way he responded so enthusiastically, glad you hadn’t only been picking up what you felt, assigning your own feelings onto him.

“I love you” he whispered between your lips as your smile widened. He pressed several languid kisses against your lips again, unable to consider his lips not pressing against yours. Lips that were designed for each other, lips that had never dared reveal true feelings before. Threat of cruelty or laughter now felt like a ridiculous dream. Something the world had transpired against you both. Because it was both of you now, the promise sealed in this kiss.

“Finally!” You giggled softly pecking his smiling lips again before confirming, “I love you too”

[walaw717]

Single trees are extraordinary; trees in number more remarkable still. To walk in a wood is to find fault with Socrates’s declaration that ‘Trees and open country cannot teach me anything, whereas men in town do.’ Time is kept and curated and in different ways by trees, and so it is experienced in different ways when one is among them. This discretion of trees, and their patience, are both affecting. It is beyond our capacity to comprehend that the American hardwood forest waited seventy million years for people to come and live in it, though the effort of comprehension is itself worthwhile. It is valuable and disturbing to know that grand oak trees can take three hundred years to grow, three hundred years to live, and three hundred years to die. Such knowledge, thoughtfully considered, changes the grain of the mind. - Robert Macfarlane, The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot Recently we drove to Couer d’Alene. North of town, I saw a strikingly handsome building set in a grove of old-growth trees. It was not a natural landscape, but when the building was constructed, the developer had left some ancient Douglas fir and ponderosa pine and created the impression of a long solidity in the landscape for his construction. It is rare for a builder to go to such trouble because it is simpler and more economical to clear a lot and build than to build around trees and other natural landscape elements. As we sat at the traffic light and I studied the property with its balance of trees, the stone and woodwork of the building, I wondered how the trees had experienced this construction and the loss of so many other trees in that particular stand. Two years ago, I witnessed a tree apparently doing something that I suspect I was not meant to see. Marilyn had just placed a planter full of new young plants on a deck rail, which was under the canopy of a very ancient willow. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement and turned just in time to see the willow purposely lift a frond and stroke the young plants. The action was like an arm lifting and then stroking the plants, and the movement occurred twice, lifting and returning, lifting and returning like a parent might stroke the head of a much-loved child. I have had the privilege of many odd and spiritual experiences – especially after I moved to New Mexico. Still, this particular moment in the pacific northwest haunts me as maybe the most significant spiritual moment of my life. I feel as though I saw a moment we are not privileged to see, and if we do see, it is under the influence of a mind-altering chemical like LSD, a moment when our ego is de-potentiated and no longer in control of our perceptions. I have had such experiences using LSD, but that was 50 years ago, and I doubt that I was having a flashback at this late date. Humanity suffers incredible hubris. We speak of looking to space to find intelligent life when we are actually looking for life like us. I suspect if we ever do find life like us, it will be terrifying – it will be a life driven by insularism and an attitude that cannot see us as an equal and will more than likely only see us in terms of our utility or see us in terms of something in the way, much like we see trees, wolves and everything else on this planet. We now scientifically know that trees and plants in forests have a massive communication network of mutually sustainable interactions. “In the 1960s, CIA interrogation expert Cleve Backster experimented with polygraph machines when he stumbled onto something novel. He noticed what appeared to be a change in electrical resistance with one of the plants, to which he connected the polygraph equipment whenever he removed a leaf or even “threatened” to harm the plant by intent alone. He likened this sudden electrical pulse to a “scream” emitted by the plant in response to endangerment. While Backster’s theory was considered a crackpot idea, many would follow similar, unusual observations about the behavior of plants, which seemingly represented a sort of “communication” they might be capable of.

For instance, a 1989 AP article discussed what one physicist, named Ed Wagner, believed were evidence he found of plant communication via what he called “W-waves”: Physicist Ed Wagner says he has found evidence that trees talk to each other in a language he calls W-waves. “If you chop into a tree, you can see that adjacent trees put out an electrical pulse,” said Wagner. “This indicates that they communicated directly.” Explaining the phenomenon, Wagner pointed to a blip on a strip chart recording of the electrical pulse. “It put out a tremendous cry of alarm,” he said. “The adjacent trees put out smaller ones…. People have known there was communication between trees for several years, but they’ve explained it by the chemicals trees produce,” Wagner said. “But I think the real communication is much quicker and more dramatic than that,” he said. “These trees know within a few seconds what is happening. This is an automatic response.” Wagner has measured the speed of W-waves at about 3 feet per second through the air. “They travel much too slowly for electrical waves,” he said. “They seem to be an altogether different entity. That’s what makes them so intriguing. They don’t seem to be electromagnetic waves at all.” Another physicist, William Corliss, also took an interest in Wagner’s discovery, noting that, “The voltage measured by electrodes implanted in trees goes up and down as one goes higher and higher up the trees… incidentally, electricity does seem to affect plant growth.” In more recent years, the idea of plants capable of forms of “communication” has been considered a bit more thoughtfully and is not outright shunned by the scientific community. One leading modern researcher and advocate for the varieties of ways plants communicate is Suzanne Simard, whose work with plants has helped set new precedents for how interactions between various species of flora occur. Simard’s research began to coalesce around what became a doctoral thesis two decades ago, in which she argued that a variety of communication methods were used by trees to achieve everything from expressing their needs to sharing nutrients “via a network of latticed fungi buried in the soil.” She further studied the varieties of ways that fungal filigrees were exploited by trees in ways that allowed them to send signals to other plants nearby about changes in the environment and even “helping” endangered plants by transferring and sharing nutrients with them. Speaking with “Yale Environment 360” last year, she talked about how, as she puts it, a forest “is a cooperative system,” saying: “To me, using the language of ‘communication’ made more sense because we were looking at not just resource transfers, but things like defense signaling and kin recognition signaling. We as human beings can relate to this better. If we can relate to it, then we’re going to care about it more. If we care about it more, then we’re going to do a better job of stewarding our landscapes.” Despite having communicative abilities, plants generally aren’t deemed to have any sort of intelligence. However, there are still some members of the scientific community that argue this is not necessarily the case. Author and researcher Michael Pollan, who studies the field of plant neurobiology, argues that plants are more perceptive than many would think: “They have analogous structures… They have ways of taking all the sensory data they gather in their everyday lives … integrate it, and then behave appropriately in response. And they do this without brains, which, in a way, is what’s incredible about it because we automatically assume you need a brain to process information.” Understanding how various life forms on earth communicate and cooperate with each other gives us a much broader sense of what “life on Earth” is truly about. It also challenges us to consider whether more complex interaction systems exist between organisms, including those that aren’t deemed intelligent or even responsive, by humans. In the case of plants, it seems unusual that these organisms, while deemed

to be very much alive, have long been relegated to being unresponsive and “vegetative,” in the most literal sense. Maybe it’s indeed time we start paying closer attention to our floral kindred and the subtleties of their interactions with each other and their environment.” Trees That Talk: The Bizarre World of Plant Communication Micah HanksJuly 2, 2017 As I come closer to the ending of my own span of years on this earth, I have become more acutely aware of the commonality I have with all life. Fear and suffering appear to be the same across all species, and I am beginning to wonder if love is also – not romantic love, but the deep logos love spiritual people have written about for millennia. I understand there are reasons we avoid seeing these connections and being aware of the “intelligence,” love, and fear of life around us. The Danish/Inuit Arctic explorer Kund Rassmussen once wrote, “The greatest peril of life lies in the fact that human food consists entirely of souls. All the creatures that we to kill and eat, all those that we have to strike down and destroy to make clothes for ourselves, have souls, souls that do not perish with the body and which must therefore be pacified lest they revenge themselves on us for taking away their bodies.” That is seen as a very primitive view, yet I wonder in our confusion of scientific methods for technological growth and exploitation if we are the primitives and the barbarians. I suspect our blindness to the intelligence of life here on earth, intelligence other than ourselves, is summed up in that statement. Maybe all intelligence really is is the knowledge that everything is connected and what we call intelligence is a form of narcissistic blindness. Perhaps the natural intelligence is in the willow, lifting a frond to stroke young plants that came under his/her/its protection and scope. Maybe the only innate intelligence is displayed in how we honor, respect, and care for everything. In addition to slowing me down in my interaction with the world, I find that this view brings me a sense of greater peace and a change in focus about what is and is not essential and how to express that “essentialness.” I also have greater clarity about what the ancients meant when they wrote of a fear of God. It is not a fear full of the pain of punishment – it is an awe that is hard to express and is likely to bring tears and an awareness of the pity of things and our oneness with everything.

[searchingwardrobes]

Valentine Throwbacks: Day 5

This is another one that was written for the Valentine’s Day Prompts back in 2018. This was for Day One: Secret Admirer. I’m posting it last because it has a part two which I’ll post later.

I really wanted it to be Emma who is the secret admirer because all the fics I've read in this genre has Killian as the secret admirer. So I was going through the Chick-fil-A drive thru, mulling over how closed-off Emma could actually do that, and . . . well, this happened. I didn’t realize when I wrote this that the kind of drive thru at our Chick-fil-A was a prototype and not found anywhere else. Basically, instead of driving up to a window, there’s this open area where they just walk out and give you your food.

**Please note: I have made no attempts to hide that this story takes place at a Chick-fil-A. I have tagged it accordingly here and on Ao3. If you have a problem with Chick-fil-A, please just skip this story.**

Summary: Emma Swan is slightly embarrassed to admit that she sometimes goes through the Chick-fil-A drive thru twice a day. She's even more embarrassed to admit she's leaving anonymous notes for the owner-operator, Killian Jones.

Nominated for Best Captain Swan Modern AU One-Shot in the OUAT Fandom Awards 2018

Rated: G

Words: about 3k

Also on Ao3

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Emma Swan was not a people person. It was for this reason that the Chick-fil-A drive-thru wasn’t her sort of thing. You had to talk – face to face – with at least four people just to get your food. And they asked for your name at the beginning of the entire process. Then everyone afterwards actually used it, with a mega-watt smile on their faces. And Emma Swan never would understand the Southern phenomenon of tacking “Miss” on the front of a person’s first name. Miss Swan, she understood. Miss Emma? Not so much.

But she had to hand it to those cheery employees walking up and down the line with their i-Pads. They were efficient. Which was one of the reasons Emma put aside her anti-social ways on her way to work. No matter how much of a hurry she was in, she could count on Chick-fil-A. She could be in and out of that line in five minutes flat.

Then there was the coffee. Sustainably sourced by local farmers. Or something. There was a big poster about it in the lobby. All Emma knew was that it was damn good, especially for a fast food place. And then there were chickin-minis. She had Mary Margaret to blame for getting her hooked on those. Or more accurately, her four year old son Leo. Tiny nuggets wrapped in tiny fluffy biscuits. Where had those been all her life? It was her new favorite food. Okay, breakfast food. Grilled cheese and onion rings still held the one and two spot.

So she gladly put up with the bright smiles and the over-the-top hospitality for a decent breakfast a couple of times a week. Or three. Okay, four max.

But she was not going to be one of those people who had drunk the kool-aid and made odes to how wonderful Chick-fil-A was on You Tube. And then Mary Margaret had to go and introduce her to the sweet iced tea.

“You can’t re-locate to Georgia and not drink sweet tea,” she had argued with Emma while practically shoving the straw in her mouth.

“So what next, MM? I have to start monogramming my towels?”

But she had begrudgingly took a sip anyway, and there was no turning back. Then she discovered the lemonade, and the cookies and cream milk shake. Some days, she was hearing “It’s been a pleasure to serve you, Miss Emma” twice in twelve hours.

She was one “Eat Mor Chikin” cow from making a You Tube video while holding a Styrofoam cup with a red straw.

To make her obsession even more embarrassing, it led – albeit indirectly – to her being an actual- to-God secret admirer. Who left anonymous love notes. Seriously. What had she become?

Killian Jones, according to his name tag, was the owner-operator of Emma’s neighborhood Chick-fil-A. She had figured immediately that he wasn’t just a regular burger- er – chicken sandwich flipper because he was wearing slacks and a navy blue button down shirt – no tie. His chest hair must need plenty of breathing room because he always had at least the first five buttons of his shirt undone (not that she was counting or anything). The first morning they met, he hadn’t started out on the best foot, inadvertently insulting her food preferences.

When he handed Emma her food, Killian Jones had leaned over slightly to glance in her back seat, simultaneously handing her a coupon.

“We’re doing a special promotion today. Would your little one like a gift card for a free cone?”

His words sort of trailed off when he saw that the backseat was empty. Emma had barked out a wry laugh.

“Uh, there’s no kid back there. Sorry.”

“My apologies,” he muttered as he stood quickly, his face flaming and his hand lifting to rest behind his ear, “I just assumed. You ordered the chicken minis, and usually people get those for their kids . . . “

Normally, Emma would have been insulted, but he seemed so genuinely embarrassed, that she simply chuckled. “Well, I have been told that I have the appetite of a twelve year old.”

The smile that he gave her was lopsided and almost sinful. He arched a very expressive brow, and leaned towards her open window with a conspiratorial whisper. “I must admit, I rather fancy them myself. I mean, they’re chicken nuggets in little biscuits. What’s not to love?”

“I know, right? It’s revolutionary.”

They gazed at one another way longer than necessary, threatening to bring imbalance to the well-oiled drive thru machine. Killian blinked, as if suddenly remembering where he was, awkwardly cleared his throat, and then handed Emma her coffee.

“It’s been a pleasure to serve you. God bless.”

In a slight daze, Emma took the coffee, noting the brush of his fingers against hers like she was some fifteen year old with a crush. It wasn’t until she was driving away that his accent registered with hers. Instead of a southern drawl, it had been a lilting Irish accent.

Intriguing.

********************************************************

Later that day, Emma’s hand literally shook as she took the Styrofoam cup of lemonade from the drive thru. For a brief moment, she considered chickening out – pun completely intended – but then shook off her fear and resolutely snatched the envelope from the passenger seat of her Bug.

“Could you give this to your owner-operator?”

“Okay,” the girl server said with a smile and a nod as she took the note, “we always like to hear how we can better serve our customers. Is there anything I can do to make your experience here better?”

“Oh,no!” Emma said quickly, making a quick slashing motion with her hand. “It isn’t a complaint. Quite the opposite actually. Just . . . “ she nervously bit her lower lip, “don’t tell him my name or . . . anything. Okay?”

The girl gave a slightly different smile this time as she pocketed the note. “Sure thing, ma’am.”

Emma couldn’t tell if the smile was just relief or a kind of knowing. Maybe the girl thought it was Emma giving her boss her phone number. Maybe women were frequently passing notes to Killian Jones. She wouldn’t be surprised. Emma’s face flamed red as she drove away.

It wasn’t like it was that kind of note. All it said was, “You made a hectic morning bearable. Thank you.” For a company that emphasized customer service so much, it was really just a thumbs up for a job well done. Like a positive review on Amazon. Nothing more.

********************************************************

Killian Jones was there again when Emma stopped to get a quick breakfast. This time, he arched a knowing brow when her yellow Bug pulled up to the curb.

“Ah, Miss Emma Swan once again. Your chicken minis, m’lady, and I must say, a fine dining choice for a woman of mature tastes.”

He gave a mock bow as he passed the bag through the window, and Emma was mortified when a giggle made its way past her lips. He waggled his eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her eyes. Yet, he had remembered her.

She cleared her throat as she took the bag, and then asked him, “I was wondering about the accent. Isn’t it the wrong one?”

At first, he furrowed his brow. “The wrong one . . . oh! You mean, as in, why don’t I go around saying mornin’ ma’am, or ya’ll have a good day now?”

Emma giggled again at his horrible impression of a Southern accent and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. Your accent is . . . Irish?”

“Aye. And if you’re wondering how I ended up in Atlanta, well, the short version is I came across the pond as a kid.”

Emma nodded. It was about all she was going to get. She was sitting in a drive thru with at least half a dozen other cars behind her. So she simply nodded, tilted her head in a way that was only slightly flirtatious and said, “I like it.”

*****************************************************

The rest of the day sucked, to put it bluntly. The scumbag she was staking out took hours to show up, she twisted her ankle chasing him down, and she never did get to eat lunch. So today was a cookies and cream milkshake type of day.

And today the note she asked the girl at the drive thru to pass along to Killian Jones said, “I’m glad you moved here. It’s a long way from Ireland, but . . . welcome home – I hope.”

******************************************************

“Is that required?”

On this particular morning, it was pretty cold outside, and Killian had kept his banter at a minimum as he handed Emma her order. So maybe she was grasping at straws for a little interaction. Or maybe it was a legitimate question.

“Is what required?” he asked, both eyebrows jumping slightly.

“God bless,” Emma clarified, “everyone here says it. Is it company policy or something?”

Killian shrugged, “Sort of. I mean, not officially. You can’t make someone use religious language, of course. But we’re encouraged to if it’s something we believe in.” He pulled the collection of necklaces he always wore around his neck free from his pea coat and scarf. He grasped a pendant shaped like a cross and waved it at Emma. “And I’m a good Irish Catholic boy.”

The smile he gave her belied his words, especially when his tongue darted out to swipe at his bottom lip. Emma cocked her head to the side and gave him a teasing smile.

“Not so sure you’re always a good boy.”

He leaned down, lowering his voice to a timbre that did something to Emma’s insides. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Emma rolled her eyes as he leaned back with a triumphant grin. Then his features became suddenly sincere.

“However, Swan, I do wish you every blessing. I mean that.”

**************************************************

The cold weather made it a “second cup of coffee in the afternoon” sort of day. But she had brought in a skip so easily she could have done it blind-folded, her little nephew Leo stopped by her office with a picture he drew of the two of them in preschool, and Mary Margaret insisted she come over that night for David’s famous chili.

And Killian Jones wished her every blessing.

On today’s note, Emma wrote, “You make me smile. That’s rare. Thank you. (Or should I say, God bless?)”

She had hesitated including that last line. After all, she didn’t want to give herself away. But was there any harm in dropping a hint or two? She shook her head, sealed the envelope, and passed it off to the girl who received all of her notes for Killian. Emma now knew her name – Holly.

And did Holly just wink when she took her note?

*************************************************

“Lovely as always, Miss Swan.”

Killian’s hand lingered as he passed Emma her coffee. She blinked and opened her mouth to say something, and –

Jumped a foot in the air when the SUV behind her honked. She and Killian both laughed, and he shuffled backwards, his face turning red. His smile was a broad one that dimpled both cheeks and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

That day, Emma’s note read, “I find myself looking forward to your smiles. You’ve got a great one, but you’ve probably heard that before. Anyway, just wanted to let you know it always brightens my day.”

**************************************************

Today it was raining, and yet the employees of Chick-fil-A were still there, bravely traversing the drive-thru line in ponchos, their i-Pads encased in water proof plastic. Killian stood huddled beneath the awning at the service door, in a thick navy blue raincoat. Raindrops had gathered on his eyelashes, making the blue of his eyes sparkle in the gray misty haze of the Georgia rain.

“Wow,” Emma quipped when he handed her the to-go bag, “this is dedication. And still telling me, it’s a pleasure to serve you.”

His eyes seemed to light up even more as he smiled at her. “For you, Swan, it is more than a pleasure.”

That day, her note read, “Your blue eyes make a rainy day a little brighter.”

It was the most blatantly flirtatious note she had left, but she no longer cared.

************************************************

“Your accent is the wrong one too, you know.”

Emma smiled broadly as she leaned against the open window of her Bug. Killian made no move to give her her food, swinging the bag idly in his hand. She shrugged.

“Yeah, I moved around a lot growing up. Minnesota. Portland. I moved here a few months ago. I had been living in Tallahassee, but my foster sister wanted me here to be close to family. There’s way more work here in bail bonds anyway.”

Killian nodded as he handed her the bag of chicken minis and her coffee. “Well, Swan, welcome home . . . I hope.”

He winked before turning his back to receive the next order. Emma’s jaw dropped, but she had the sense to ease out of the line and onto the highway.

Did he know? To test it out, her note to him that day read, “I’ve never really felt at home anywhere. This is getting close. You’ve helped make it feel that way.”

**************************************************

Emma was only half listening to Mary Margaret as she set the table in her and David’s eat-in kitchen. Their house was small, but quaint, and was in a great neighborhood. They had been willing to buy a smaller house rather than keep renting in the apartment complex, knowing the back yard and park down the street were better for Leo. It worked out for Emma too, as she spent way more time here than in her lonely one bedroom apartment.

Mary Margaret was lecturing Emma about something – probably about how she ought to be more social – but Emma’s mind was on Killian Jones. Had he gotten her latest note yet? Would he figure out who she was? If so, would he think she was a total stalker?

“ . . . so since you keep giving me excuses, I just decided to ask Killian over for dinner tonight.”

The name tore Emma immediately from her daydreaming. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

Mary Margaret shook her head at Emma. “I said set one more place because I invited that guy I told you about over for dinner.”

Emma set down the stack of forks she had been laying at each place and waved both hands back and forth. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You said his name was, what?”

Mary Margaret had been going on and on about her and David’s former neighbor at the apartments and how he would be perfect for Emma. But surely that couldn’t be the same Killian as her drive-thru Killian. Could it? Okay, so Killian wasn’t exactly a common name . . .

“Killian Jones,” Mary Margaret answered with an exasperated sigh.

Emma shook her head rapidly. “Killian Jones? What . . . what does he do for a living?”

Mary Margaret grabbed the forks Emma had abandoned. “He’s the owner-operator of the Chick-fil-A near here. I was going to introduce you the day you went with me and Leo, but Killian was at some training thing at corporate.”

Emma grabbed the back of a chair as the room started to spin. Crap. She had to go and open herself up in that damn note today. And Mary Margaret just had to invite him over for dinner, tonight of all nights.

This was going to be interesting.

*****************************************************

Killian was just as surprised as she was when he arrived at the Nolans. Apparently, Mary Margaret had gushed on about her “sister,” but had failed to mention a name. They told Mary Margaret and David about their interactions in the drive thru, and everyone had a good laugh about it. What a small world! How ironic! That sort of thing. Killian seemed no different than normal. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the note yet?

Emma, on the other hand, was wound tight. Maybe things had been more comfortable between them when there was a car door and a time restraint. Or maybe it was all those stupid notes hanging over Emma’s head. Whatever it was, it made Emma’s face feel like it was stuck in a perpetual blush. She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say, and Mary Margaret and David were not-so-subtly trying to play matchmaker as they attempted to steer the conversation Emma’s way. But all she could do was give one word answers and stare at her plate.

“Well,” Killian said with a satisfied sigh, “I can’t tell you Mary Margaret how delicious this was. Working at a restaurant all day, the last thing I feel like doing when I get home is cook. This was amazing, really.”

Mary Margaret beamed at his compliment. “Well, we are pleased to have you. You should come over more often. We miss you. Right, David?”

“Yeah,” David chuckled, shoving Killian’s shoulder, “I’ve got no one to watch hockey games with anymore. It’s not really a popular sport around here.”

“The notes were from me,” Emma blurted out.

Everyone immediately fell silent at Emma’s completely out of context outburst. Except for Leo, who ran his fork across his plate with a loud screech and demanded to know what was for dessert.

Emma lifted her gaze from her lap to meet Killian’s. “The notes that kept arriving at Chick-fil-A in the afternoons? They were all from me.” She let out a long, shaky breath.

“I know,” was all Killian said in response.

Emma’s eyes widened. “I – I thought you might. When did you figure it out?”

He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I suspected, or hoped, it was you from the start. You see, every note corresponded with our morning interactions. But of course, today confirmed it. I was testing you by quoting one of your notes, and then when the note this afternoon was about home . . . “

He trailed off, a grin splitting his face.

“You hoped it was me from the start?”

He nodded, and Emma just sat there grinning right back at him like a fool. Mary Margaret hurriedly jumped from the table, scooping up Leo.

“Hey!” the little boy protested. “What about dessert?”

“We’ll eat cookies in front of the TV,” Mary Margaret muttered in response, “David, now.”

Killian and Emma chuckled as their matchmakers hurried from the kitchen. Emma felt as nervous as she had been back in junior high when she went to her first school dance. Killian rose from his seat across from her and came to take the seat beside her. They both shifted their chairs to be a little closer.

“I felt something between us the moment I first saw you,” Killian said.

“You mean when you offered my non-existent kid a free ice cream cone?”

Killian chuckled and ducked his head. How a man could be so sexy, cocky, and bashful all at the same time was incredibly endearing. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question passing between them. Emma nodded imperceptibly as they both leaned towards one another. When Killian’s lips met hers, the contact was charged with an intense attraction she had never felt before.

Except when his fingers had brushed hers in the drive thru.

Those fingers now carded through her hair as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. His lips were soft against hers, but his kisses were firm and passionate. His other hand came up to gently caress her face, his thumb tracing her jaw and coming to rest on her chin. Emma pulled back, giving him a shy smile, which he returned. Then they resumed kissing, their tongues entwined in a dance so perfect, it felt as if they had been molded to fit together. When they finally parted, they were breathing heavily. Emma rested her forehead against his and sighed in complete contentment.

“Emma,” he murmured. God, she loved the way he said her name!

“Yeah,” she mumbled back dreamily.

“It’s definitely been a pleasure to serve you.”

[ohnobjyx]

Hi, im wondering about recent clip of D/D/U. I guess yibo is a playful person with his friends. I saw how he teased CX and being pampered by his U/N/I/Q hyung. Im rarely interact with ant!s but due to that clip (CX) all his cp fan happy while leaving hateful comment to B/X/G. Its hurt me when they so hateful to h-o-m-o but okay to h-e-t-e-r-o. Why oh why!?!?! This is only my sharing thought. I love reading ur opinions btw. BJYXSZD!!!

Hi, fabellevixxi95! They are talking about TTXS 200719′s episode, for those who are wondering when did this ask happen (yes, I know, I do answer late).

First of all, there are a lot of CPs featuring dd with a lot of people. His old bros from UNIQ, any female with whom he interacts beyond a “hi”, DZW, etc.

(There’s a really noteworthy douyin from DZW explaining the concept of “CP” to his mother: “when you’re very good bros, people start naming your friendship as CP, (...) like the one I have with WYB”. Golden).

I really can’t judge anyone for adhering to a CP, since it’s the same thing I’m doing, but leaving hateful comments, insulting, and outright refusing to back down and apologize for their insults is not right. Be careful of those people, sometimes they aren’t even fans, but antis trying to stir up problems. Don’t engage, block and report if they’re going against the guidelines of the platform they are in.

Okay, since that part is out now, I leave my thoughts about this CP under the cut.

Disclaimer: fake fake fake.

To be honest, I looked into dd-CX CP out of curiosity, to compare a little bit. I couldn’t even find the name of the CP at first, but it was apparent soon enough as to why: they use the same bjyx initials with the “xiao” being CX’s name. However “bjyx” as a CP name has long been taken over by bxg.

I think many people prefer him being with CX (or any other female celebrity actually) because of 2 reasons:

Homophobia. It was difficult for me to realize that a lot of people are lowkey homophobic. They won’t say “ew, gays”, but they’ll say “it’s obvious he’s with a girl instead of with a man, he can’t be gay”. They are much reluctant to admit the possibility of anyone being in a relationship with a person of the same gender, though they’ll often defend themselves with something along the lines of “hey, I have many queer friends, I’m not homophobic!”

There’s a type of fan (let’s call them gf-fans) that fantasize with the possibility of being their idol’s partner. This, in gg and dd’s case, happens much more often with female fans, who then will grasp at straws to continue believing that their idol is completely straight. Thus why they’re much more willing to see a CP with a female idol (when they accept that their idol might not be single): they feel much more identified with a female than a male.

There’s also a curious phenomenon with these “girlfriend-type” of fans: imo, they’re much more open to an hetero CP because they know it’s just rumours and that it’s much more likely to be false, so that fulfills their fantasy of maybe someday meeting their idol and making them fall head over heels in love with them.

(That’s why many bxg pay a lot of attention to what mtjj outright refuse to discuss about. Like hotpot).

It has often been commented that dd’s CP with CX is one of the most “solid” ones, even though CX has said:

She and dd had collaborated twice in a couple choreographies by the time she went for the first time (prior to dd’s birthday special in 2018) to TTXS, and she said both times they hadn’t said a word to each other outside of work.

She called dd “modern monk” in his birthday special last year, and said that he lacked interest in women.

They started to get along much better when they hosted a skateboarding variety show together in 2019, most likely due to shared interests and work related issues. That had to make the CP reach its peak, because I don’t think I’ve seen a lot of these fans nowadays.

(They got comfortable enough for dd to say that she is very heavy, because he couldn’t carry her princess-style, which she didn’t appreciate at all. Trust me, no idol would have liked that).

Dd started to treat CX as a friend, so it probably made people’s eyes fall out of their sockets, because his interactions with women are scarce and very controlled. It is to the point that some fans say he must be gay because of the nature of his interactions with women.

But... I kind of understand him? People tend to forget that he grew up in South Korea, at the age when boys and girls start to interact and make friends with people of the opposite gender. The majority of the boys usually play with other boys and most of the girls play with other girls, specially in countries so conservative as China or South Korea (it’s a generalization, but it’s what happens 🤷‍♀️).

So, at the age when boys and girls start to mingle, he was in South Korea, living in an all boys dorm and studying with other male trainees (from what I know, mixed dorms are extremely hard to find even for university students), in a society where skin touch between a boy and girl with no romantic relationship is frowned upon. I’m aware that there’s a spectrum of types of couples, but even holding hands is rare for some couples there (let’s leave the sexism that still exists in those countries for another day, but they certainly have room to improve in that issue).

Moreover, dd, for all he is bold when no words are required, is quite shy. He’s coming out of his shell, but many of his interactions with women come from a time where I think it was more shyness what made him “cold” (and many people had said that he’s shy rather than cold, and dd himself says “I’m a slow starter” meaning he needs time to be familiar with other people).

That’s why, from my pov, his stilted, uncomfortable interactions with women (in the past) steems from the environment he grew up in + knowing he’s being observed all the time. There’s a video of him dropping a pen, surrounded by girls in skirts in an event, and to pick it up, he drops carefully, facing away from the girls, and keeping his eyes locked on the pen.

(I’m leaving my own speculation about their sexuality for another post, but just as a spoiler, I’m between gay and bi, leaning towards gay for some reasons).

All in all, dd is a playful person with his friends. He has every right to be however he wants. The fact that he’s comfortable enough to tease his female coworkers is just proof that he’s grown out of his awkward phase and that he has found people he likes to work with, no matter their gender.

The fact that some people take friendship as a CP is a phenomenon that will gradually dispel once he works with more women. I really don’t understand the blind RPS with no real proof (beware of fanservicing), but I’m fine if it’s the CP of their project, ofc. So I hope the fans who want him to be straight because it fits their image of him or whatever reason can just accept that he’s living for himself, not for their fantasies. 

[brandyovereager]

The Phoenix Effect - pt. 8

THAT’S RIGHT I FINALLY WROTE IT. YOU THOUGHT I WOULDN’T, BUT I DIIIIIDDD.

I’m not entirely in love with how this turned out, but oh well. I finished it.

On ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195906/chapters/61475764

Summary: Evalin and Rhoe settle into the caravan and Rowan asks Evalin what she needed to warn Aelin about.

As expected, Rhoe and Evalin were well tended to by the members of royal caravan.

Rowan observed the couple while various pages brought them refreshments and made a place for them to sit in the carriage—it was intended for any royals traveling in the caravan but Aedion and Rowan both preferred to walk alongside the others. The reborn royals were far more accustomed to the niceties of royal life than Rowan was, and that fact was quite obvious just from watching them interact with the caravan members.

While Rowan would often pause in discomfort whenever a page brought him water or offered to carry his pack, Rhoe and Evalin accepted any help with grace and a smile. As a result, it seemed the caravan members already liked the reborn couple more than their Fae king. Rowan noted his reborn in-laws seemed to like the caravan members more than him as well.

Rhoe had not warmed to the Fae male after he explained his position earlier. Despite knowing Rowan was no longer pledged to Maeve and had dedicated himself entirely to Aelin, the man still didn’t seem to trust him. Rowan supposed the man could be a bit concerned about his daughter’s attachment to a strange and dangerous Fae male, but Rhoe Galathynius would learn soon enough that Aelin was a grown woman who could make that sort of choice for herself—and likely wouldn’t appreciate anyone thinking otherwise.

He should also know that if Rowan ever crossed her—as impossible as that was—Aelin was more than capable of handing him his ass.

Aedion had followed Rhoe and Evalin to the carriage—obviously happy to have his family back—but did not enter with them. He would sometimes approach the carriage door to speak with them, but mostly stayed outside directing the pages tending to his aunt and uncle.

Sam had been awfully quiet since they found Rhoe and Evalin—he never spoke much to begin with, but he was being especially quiet at the moment. One of the pages had mentioned to the couple that there was another reborn in their caravan, but Sam had not reciprocated their interest in speaking to him. Rowan supposed it might be confusing for him to see Evalin, just as it had been for him to see Aedion. He couldn’t be certain what the boy had put together yet in his head—maybe he assumed all people from Terrasen looked similar—but he had to be doing some thinking as they walked.

With every day that passed on their journey, Rowan questioned more and more his decision to hide Celaena’s true identity from Sam. It was a conversation Aelin deserved to have with the assassin herself, but Sam also deserved to know the truth and not be kept in the dark about all that was happening. With the arrival of Rhoe and Evalin, more questions about Aelin’s life were bound to come up. All three reborns wanted answers, and Rowan wasn’t sure how much longer he could avoid their questions.

This would be the last time he went somewhere without his mate. Never again. He wouldn’t have this problem if they weren't separated.

The decision of what to tell Rhoe and Evalin seemed to be out of his hands, though, as they only really spoke to Aedion and the occasional page. When they settled down to make camp for the night, the couple and their nephew sat close together chatting amicably with the other caravan members, while the Fae and assassin made themselves comfortable a fair distance away. Rowan was curious to see how Aelin reacted to her parents’ cold treatment of her mate.

Whether the in-laws loved him or not wasn’t his main concern, however. What Rowan really wanted to know was what horrible thing Evalin needed to warn Aelin about. If Evalin Ashryver herself thought something was amiss, then they were likely in for it. Deciding that whatever they had to tell Aelin they could tell to him, Rowan made his way towards the reborn royals.

Aedion was the first to notice him approach, acknowledging the other male with a nod. Evalin was next, staring at Rowan with the eyes of a detailed examiner. There was no judgement in her evaluation of him, just the desire to learn a new entity. Evalin was not openly welcoming to Rowan, but she didn’t seem to harbor the same assumptions her husband did. She was waiting, observing him to make her own conclusions. Maybe it was her significant resemblance to his beloved Aelin, but Rowan decided he liked Evalin—if nothing else, he certainly respected her.

When Rhoe finally recognized Rowan’s presence, he tensed slightly. It was nothing major, but it was no longer the relaxed posture of a man laughing with his family—even though Rowan was his family as well. He was not overtly displeased with the male, but Rhoe wasn’t comfortable around him the way he was with Aedion.

It was then Rowan recalled that Aelin’s power was the result of two strong bloodlines mixing, and neither of her parents held such magic. Rhoe Galathynius was helpless against any Fae—even more so a warrior Fae such as himself. For the first time, it occurred to Rowan that Rhoe might actually be afraid of him.

How would he react upon seeing Aelin—his own daughter—had grown into a powerful Fae herself? Rowan recalled the stories Aelin had told him about her childhood, the internalized fear she had of her own magic back when he first trained her. Her parents hadn’t known how to handle her power back then, how would they feel seeing her now?

No matter what they thought, Rowan would not let anything make his Queen doubt herself ever again. His extraordinary mate had battled debilitating fear of her own power, and came out resilient. She was strong enough to not let herself be afraid ever again, but damn him if he didn’t come out seething at anyone who dared suggest otherwise.

Rowan opted not to sit, instead standing at his full height in front of Rhoe. A petty part of him—perhaps the affectionately named ‘territorial Fae bastard’—was quite smug knowing how much of a striking figure he posed. The Fae turned to face Evalin, and his voice might have been a bit gruffer—but his eyes softer as they gazed into Ashryver turquoise—as he spoke.

“You said you had to warn my Queen of something, what is it?”

“Us—being alive—and the others you call ‘reborns’, this should not be.” An obvious statement courtesy of Evalin Ashryver.

“No, it shouldn’t. It goes against the natural order. Why is this cause to warn Aelin, though?” It had been an alarming situation when it first started, but now that governments had a system in place there was no need for warning.

“Because powerful magic is the only thing that could have done this. Something as significant as life and death cannot be changed easily, and such a disruption indicates dark magic.” Her conclusion puzzled the male.

“Why would resurrection indicate dark magic? Life is a blessing, not a curse.” The rebirth of dead loved ones didn’t seem like the beginnings of an evil plan.

“Life is a blessing only in its intended order. It is a blessing because it is so precious. The life I was gifted is over, and I yielded my time to others, to children who will walk this land and live out their gift. While I may wish I had more time here, this land is no longer mine, and I am not meant to take it back.” While that may be how Evalin saw things, Rowan wondered if that might be something for each person to decide themselves. Philosophical musings aside, the powerful magic was the real issue here.

“You think there is a threat out there, someone we need to find and defeat?” So soon after their victory against Maeve and Erawan, Rowan really hoped there wasn’t another villain out there to fight. He was tired. Was it too much to ask that he just spend the rest of his immortal life in peace with his mate?

“The magic used may have been dark magic, but I do not think the wielder has ill intentions. After all, giving life to the dead seems like a miracle. I believe someone has come into possession of great power they do not understand, and that is dangerous in a different way.” Yes, it was. Power is difficult to control when the user is outmatched, and dark power should not be let loose.

Evalin’s words meant more than a fight against evil magic, though. It meant that the entire reborn phenomenon would be reversed. Evalin wished to send back the reborns.

“You mean to undo all this, then? We are to take all the reborns away from families who just welcomed them back? That includes you as well. Are you prepared to make your daughter mourn you once again?” Rowan wasn’t sure he could put Aelin through that again. She would have him and the rest of her court to lean on this time, but no one should lose their parents twice. It was cruel, and the Fae grit his teeth at the fact that Evalin actually wanted this.

“As I said before, this is no blessing. Someone attempted to spare the world grief, but they only gifted us more to suffer.”

@rowaelinforeverworld​

@flowersinvegas​

@aelin-queen-of-terrasen​

@camixd93​

@lord-douglas-the-third​

@montse121296​

@dank-queen7​

@slytheringalathynius​

@rhyswhitethorn​

@jesstargaryenqueen​

@trilogiesrule

[electro-elemena]

Random thoughts I just had about death note

this is very stream of consciousness and was written in google notes, so sorry for the format and grammar but I just need this to be out there. Also if some parts sound like they're spoken out loud it's because they were lmao

- media needs to be interesting (check)

- if you disagree with me go look at Ryuk and then come back

- love the concept of death note. Very *chef's kiss*

- tickles the part of my brain that likes unlikely and outlandish theories and scenarios

- however enjoyable media also has to be:

- not insufferable... Sufferable you could say

- OR insufferable enough to make it funny

- death note accomplishes the condition of the second

- never finished it, realized i was running out of fucks to give and looked for a reason to give more fucks or stop giving fucks

- spoiled the ending for myself, if you've seen the ending you know why

- spoiler alert for an old ass piece of media... Y'all have your reasons and if this bit doesn't fervently convince you to watch it then it will do whatever the opposite of that is

- misa dies too. Which is unfair

- she's a boss ass bitch and a whole model??? Like

- okay tangent

- light is not a good protagonist

- I'll take a potato chip... And eat it

- he's supposed to be one of those gradual unreliable narrators

- but past the first episode you immediately realize that he is in fact a horrible person

- you could argue that the capacity to kill people without consequence given to a teenage boy was destined to corrupt him

- and that's a cynical and bleh boring take

- (but likely)

- but tbh it takes a dormant god complex in the first place for him to turn out the way he did. He obviously already thought he was better than others

- loners are only loners if everyone thinks they're worse than everyone else or they think they're better than everyone else

- chicken or the egg first sometimes y'know

- so like if you have the death note to a kind person they'd like write down Jeff bezos or something and then hand it back

- or! They could be like "i don't trust you with this" to ryuk and just keep it (but secretly be like saving it for later in case they want to kill someone else with no consequences)

- or maybe they're just in love with ryuk. Which like. I'll squint at you, and judge you silently for, but won't say anything, because I'm a nice person and not because you possess the ability to kill me without consequences whenever

- anyways so he's a bad protagonist and objectively evil

- i say this even though I usually like the villains. I love the hero but I like the villains too

- i won't condone their actions but I'll think they're hot or cool or something

- cuz i always side with the protagonist, when they're not insufferable (wonder who that could be)

- but mass genocide is one of those rare things that's not "oh this is good but it could be gray if done for the wrong reasons" or "oh this is bad but it could be gray if done for the wrong reasons" it's very "no. This is not ambiguous. Throw the whole person away"

- far less forgivable than mass genocide, however, is how he's not down bad for misa

- like??? The only reasons I can think of for him to have been written like this are

- 1) he's gay or ace and they wrote him like that as queer coding and secret representation

- cuz i know that there are many characters like that and you will never KNOW if he is or isn't

- unless like the mangaka... What's his name... Comes out on Twitter and says so

Mini tangent

- i can not for the life of me remember asian names

- i was practically raised by anime and i still can not remember them

- does not matter how much I love the character or person. I will forget it at least once or twice

- every time someone mentions a mangaka i have to check the database

- i think it's mainly because I haven't learned any asian languages, and that's the only reason I'm referring to them as asian and not specifying, because asian languages have a lot of common denominators that they don't share with western ones

- anyways I can't pronounce them so I can't remember them

- or i think I can pronounce them and then the real pronunciation is just waiting to pounce on me and make me feel like an idiot

- had that ever happened to you? I mispronounced the word cicada until I was... 17

- i was walking with my best friend outside

- which never happened because we were hermits and we never left the cave

- and I'm like "oh you can hear the ciSAHdas"

- and he was like "..."

- "you can hear the what?"

- and it's funny that out of the two of us, the AP student was the one that didn't know how to pronounce ciSAHdas

- did i just say that right? Fuck

- ciKEIdas

- anyways Carson did not do well in school, because he's the type of person that, if he does not give a fuck, he simply will not do whatever you ask

- no matter what reason you have

- so the old ass institution that "educated--

- mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell!

- "educated" millions of people crumbled at his feet, like the true being of chaos that he is

- although you could argue that it didn't do me any favors either, since, well, here i am

- and at least he knew how to pronounce cicadas! Damn!

Death note (ctd)

- anyways back to death note because we weren't FINISHED

- so he's gay or ace. My vote is for gay because of his relationship with L

- and L was another character that was treated poorly, he's way better than the early death that he got because he decided to be kind and less suspicious and i HATE that they did him like that

- for a show called death note they really did get death wrong

- funny how everyone around light ends up dying horribly

- you could argue that's because of the death not but I like to think it's because he's just that shitty of a person

- so back to light and how he's super fruity, there's actually a scene where misa is throwing herself on him as usual

- and i don't remember what she's saying, like i can't remember most of her lines

- and i don't know if that means I like her more or less than i would have

- anyways she's saying something suggestive to him looking hot as usual and he starts thinking about L

- like LMAO

- bestie, the closet is made of GLASS

- it is transparent. We can all tell

- 2) reason he could be written to treat misa like that is because it's a ha ha funny that he can't be bothered to give her the time of day, when she's a model

- he's murder sexual. He wants world domination, not pussy

- this is also a reason he could be considered ace but I just think an enemies to lovers with L is more interesting so that's my personal favorite

- anyways there's another scene where she's once again chasing after this toxic ass man

- which. Her main flaw is her absolute dog water taste in men

- so she's trying to get him to like her

- and he thinks

- LMAO

- he thinks "never before have I been provoked to HIT a woman"

- and he says it exactly like that

- which is hilarious for many reasons

- first of all

- i don't BELIEVE you

- you mean to tell me?? That with HIS PERSONALITY?? no woman had ever pissed him off as much as one being in love with him

- which, by the way, gay

- i would like to think this is possible not because of the previously mentioned "maybe he was a good person before given this power" bleh bullshit

- but because all the women had understood he was a fuckwad before interacting with him

- like they sent it to the group chat. The group chat? Yeah the group chat

- they were like bro. This dude? Bad news

- walk parallel to him at all times. Do NOT intersect

- cross the street if you see him walking towards you

- this is also why i like to think incels exist

- like they were already going to be bad and women just knew that and avoided them

- an alternative theory to the group chat phenomenon is that women instinctively knew. Like an edm... That's not the right word

- i know the word and that's not the right word

- e d... e p...

- like the thing you throw out as like a pokeball and it just makes all the electronics stop working

- like they take a break

- electromagnetic... Pulse... EMP!

- so that was sent to every woman's brain instinctively and they just avoided him