#my dad was much more aligned with the new wave crowd

[billfarrah]

I know that most people who have watched the show have not taken sides within Wille and Simon’s break-up, but I have seen people acting as if one of them is in the right and the other is in the wrong and I just want to give my two cents on the situation, as I think both of them truly made the best decision for themselves in that moment and it doesn’t necessarily mean their relationship is over for good.

What is important to keep in mind is that Wille and Simon’s lives and situations are drastically different. It is something the show doesn’t really touch on much initially because the two of them are very much caught up in their attraction to each other and are basically lost in their own little world outside of reality, but it isn’t until reality hits them in the face that you realize how different they really are, especially in terms of their sexualities, their relationships with their sexualities, and their support system.

For Simon, being gay is very much an afterthought for him; it’s likely something he came to terms with a long time ago. This is perfectly illustrated in the casual way he reminds his dad that he is gay. It is something everyone in his life that matters knows; his friends know, given the way they immediately notice he is into Wille when he brings him to the game; Sara and Linda know, as they observe the two making eyes at each other while Simon is singing, and Sara teases him about it. We don’t know if he’s out at school, but he doesn’t have any friends there so it’s not that he’s in the closet, it’s just that it’s on a need-to-know basis. It’s not something he really thinks twice about. He obviously catches vibes that Wille is into him and he reciprocates. He’s nervous as he approaches Wille to kiss him, but only in a way anyone would be nervous in such a situation. We don’t know if he’s crushed on boys before (presumably he has), but these feelings don’t really seem to come as a surprise to him. 

Meanwhile, for Wille, being queer is something that is a lot more complicated. With Simon, his sexuality can be on a need-to-know basis, but Wille is a public figure, someone that everyone is going to have an opinion about. Wille being queer is a big deal in terms of his status; everyone is going to question now what that means for the future of the monarchy. He’s probably right when he says there would be a shitstorm if he came out. Not only that, but these feelings are incredibly new to Wille. We don’t know anything about his life pre-Hillerska (I’d like to see it discussed in season 2), but you get the sense that people often don’t see him as just a person and often view him through the lens of his royal status, which likely made it hard for him to connect to people. He seems to not really think too highly of the people he’s spent his life surrounded by, calling everyone and everything fake, which is why he is so captivated by Simon, who is just so beautifully authentic. He tells Simon everyone in the choir seemed so caught in themselves while Simon was singing from his heart. These feelings he has for Simon are so intense because he’s never felt them before; it’s all so fucking new for him. Now all of a sudden he’s being questioned on what this aspect of himself (his sexuality and relationships) means for his future and Wille just isn’t ready to deal with that. He probably doesn’t even know what his sexuality even is. He doesn’t know what it means to be a boyfriend AND a Crown Prince, because he’s never been either of them before. He had no time to breathe and process any of these things because they happened to him so quickly. For him, keeping the relationship a secret makes sense; he can have the time to explore his feelings and what he wants without worrying about people scrutinizing him, and that’s completely valid, but that’s not what Simon wants, and that is ALSO valid.

For Simon, on the other hand, it doesn’t make sense for him. What does he have to gain out of being Wille’s secret? Yes, relationships are not all about personal gain, but they’re also not all about supporting one person and neglecting your own needs. Simon is right when he says Wille needs to figure out what he wants. He didn’t tell Wille he was wrong for being scared, or that he should just come out. He never once invalidated Wille for what he was going through; he just told him whatever you’re going through right now is not something I can be a part of for the sake of my own mental health and well-being. We see how bummed Simon would get when Wille did his hot-and-cold routine (the way his face falls when Wille asks him to remove the story, the heartbreak on his face every time he tried to reach out to Wille and Wille suddenly turned him away, ala the piano scene and the scene after the memorial, and the disappointed look after he waves Wille over outside the school and August intercepts), so just imagine how much worse that could get if they were REALLY trying to hide their relationship. I would say for most of the season they’re doing a very half-assed job of trying to sneak around, and Simon was willing to do it at first because he liked Wille so much, but ultimately he realized that this is something that hurts him and it’s not what he wants. He was very brave for turning Wille away ultimately; you could tell it pained him to do it, but he had to put himself first, and that should be commended. The boy is strong as hell for that.

Truthfully, although it is heartbreaking that Wille ends the season alone, I do think it will benefit him in the long run. We can see that he knows what he wants - he embraced Simon in front of a large crowd of people and told him he loved him, I think it’s important to emphasize how big of a deal that was considering he was told to not associate with Simon anymore - but he needs to do some soul-searching and figure out how he’s going to attain that, especially in a way that aligns with Simon’s own independent wants and desires.

Wille as a character appears to be someone who has never really been allowed to think or act for himself, because when he does, he gets chastised for it. He is very much still searching for his identity and I think he’s on the pathway to finding out. His behaviour in the climax of the final episode says it all; the boy is angry and I don’t think he’s going to sit by and let the monarchy dictate his life for much longer.

[side-shawty]

Burn XVI (Stark!Reader)

XVI: Standing on the Sun

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: True love comes in many forms.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Three weeks later and things were better. You had gone back to New York with the team just in time for Peter’s graduation. Even though the whole team wanted to be there Peter decided that he didn’t need a spectacle and in the end, his girlfriend and mentor would be the only ones attending while the rest set up for a surprise party later.

Girlfriend. You couldn’t get over how nice that sounded. As you stood in front of the mirror in Peter’s favorite multicolored sundress you smiled.

It was off the shoulder hugged your body perfectly and ended just above your knee in a ruffled hem. You left your makeup light on account of the heat and pulled your hair back in a curly bun with a few curls framing your face and your edges expertly laid.

You absentmindedly brushed the scar on the back of your neck. It brought back all kinds of horrors that you had to push aside. That was something for therapy.

As you were spritzing perfume on yourself there was a knock at your door.

“Y/N you ready? Car’s running,” your dad called from the other side of the door.

“Yeah,” you replied and opened the door to face your father dressed neatly in a blue button-down, pants, sneakers, and his signature glasses, “Handsome,” you told him simply hooking your arm around his and beginning to walk down the hall towards the elevators.

“Beautiful,” he replied and you reached the entrance in no time, the doors open and waiting.

You got to Peter’s school in no time having left early enough to evade the worst of the traffic. The ceremony itself was swift, the graduating class was small but to your surprise, as you and your father were waiting with the other families outside for the graduates you felt a light tap on your shoulder.

Confused, you turned around only to be met with the beaming smile of your favorite Princess.

“Shuri?!” You asked incredulously.

“Y/N! I’ve missed you how are you?” She asked pulling you into a hug which you gratefully accepted.

“I’m good! What are you doing here?” You asked pulling back, still a little shocked.

“Well, it just so happens that someone I am seeing is graduating today as well,” she smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at you.

You tilted your head in question but before she could answer you heard her name being called. You both turned around at the sound to see MJ practically running towards her.

Shuri opened her arms and instead of a hug, MJ planted a sweet kiss on her lips.

You were shocked, you put your hands on your hips and glared playfully as they pulled away.

“So neither of you were planning to tell me about this?” You questioned and they just smiled at you, threading their hands together.

“Oh you would’ve figured it out at the party later,” Shuri giggled, leaning into MJ’s side. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your excited smile.

“I think it’s sweet, you guys are a great match,” Tony spoke up, smiling at the two young ladies

“Thanks, Stark,” Shuri said and MJ nodded in agreement, she’d never admit it but the man still made her nervous.

“Shuri, my mom wants us to take pictures before we leave,” MJ said and her girlfriend nodded.

“No problem, see you guys at the party later,” Shuri spoke.

“Bye guys,” MJ waved and they both walked away, giddy as ever.

You and your father both waved back.

“Wow they’re so cute together,” you told him and he hummed in agreement. “Speaking of cute, where is my boyfriend?”

“Gross Y/N,” he replied but began looking around regardless.

“Found him, Hap and May got to him first,” he said pointing to the trio.

The excitement you felt just from seeing the back of his head was almost too much, you practically sprinted and threw your arms around him. He jumped slightly at the contact as you pressed yourself against his back.

“Congratulations Peter!” He turned around in your arms and smiled down at you.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he beamed and cupped your face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Hey, don’t hog the graduate,” Your father complained and you rolled your eyes before releasing him.

Your father was quick to give Peter a hug as he walked up to him, “Congrats kid. Allow me to be the first—”

May cleared her throat.

“Second,” Tony tried again.

Happy silently shook his head in response.

“Fine third you a graduation present,” he finally finished.

With that, he fished a set of keys out from his pocket and handed them to Peter.

“Is this...” Peter began but was slightly stunned into silence.

“Yup, the Spyder with a few Stark modifications, enjoy it,” he smiled.

“Wow, thank you so much, Mr. Stark,” Peter gave your father another big hug which also knocked the man over.

“Wanna take it for a test drive?” You offered.

Peter nodded excitedly and you handed your own keys over to Tony before taking your boyfriend's hand.

“We’ll meet you guys at the tower!” You called over your shoulder as you waved goodbye to the group.

When you were both out of earshot May spoke absentmindedly to the two men.

“I can’t wait to plan their wedding,” she smiled.

Tony rubbed at his eyes.

——

When you got to the car Peter was quick to open the door for you and then toss his cap and gown in the trunk before slipping into the driver's seat.

“I think this might be too nice for me, Y/N” he spoke, taking in all the upgrades and sheer beauty of it.

“Please, you deserve this and so much more,” smiled taking his hand, prompting him to look in your eyes and smile back.

He took the hand that was on the steering wheel and expertly avoided your low bun to place his hand on the back of your neck to bring you in for a slow, loving kiss.

Once again you thought about how much you loved him, how perfect everything felt when you were together. It was like every single star is the sky aligned just to shine on the two of you.

Just before things get too heated you place your hand on his chest and push him back slightly, resting your forehead on his.

“As much as I’d love to christen your new car, we should get back to the tower. No reason to keep them waiting,” you smirked.

Peter gave a dramatic sigh and sat back in his seat, “Fine~ I guess this is what I get for having the girl everybody wants,” he said starting the car.

“But don’t forget she only has eyes for you,” you have the back of his hand a kiss as he pulled out of the lot.

“And I for her,” he smiled.

——

Once the two of you got back to the tower you had to try you best to force Peter to avoid looking for the others. Nat had texted you on the way that they weren’t quite done with everything and you were tasked with distracting him.

And distract him you did.

Under the guise of your feet hurting from hours spent in the low heels, you were wearing. Peter looked skeptical but followed you to your room to grab a pair of slides nonetheless. Only, he questioned you further when you had him walk in first and then you locked the door behind yourself.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” He asked, but still kicked off his own shoes before relaxing on the giant bean bag chair beside the bed.

You turned around slowly, keeping your hands behind your back as you leaned against the door kicking off your heels and staring at him. Gosh, everything about him is perfect, you thought. He tilted his head to the side and you walked to him slowly. When you reached arm's length he sat up slightly and held your hips and smiled up at you.

“What is it, babe?”

You carded one hand through his hair and leaned down to capture his lips in a short kiss. Your words were a whisper against his lips.

“You’re so pretty.” Without a second's hesitation, Peter was laughing at your omission. It took no effort for him to pull you down onto him, across his lap. You let out your own giggle at his antics.

“All these theatrics because you think I’m pretty?” The skepticism was back in his voice and it made you roll your eyes.

“Is it such a crime to think my boyfriend is pretty?” You pouted.

“No, as long as you don’t forget how gorgeous you are.” Peter looked you up and down .”Especially in this dress. Do you know how hard it was to hold back when I saw you wearing this in the bleachers?”

“I was hoping you’d like it,” you grinned.

“Like it? I absolutely love it.” As if to prove this point he left a trail of kisses from shoulder to shoulder before going up your neck and leaving several more in his wake. It wasn’t long before his lips found your own and you were sharing a passionate kiss.

Your arms locked around his neck, fingers slipping through his hair again and tugging slightly even so often. Meanwhile, Peter had one hand locked around your waist, keeping him firmly against him while the other trailed slowly up your back. You could feel him beginning to tug at your zipper when a knock interrupted. The two of you halted. Breathing heavily as whoever it was stood outside silently for a few seconds.

“Yeah?” You called, almost breathless.

“We’re about to eat if you guys wanna, y’know join us,” Natasha spoke and from her tone, you could tell you were in trouble.

You glanced at Peter and the two of you shared a silent laugh.

“We’ll be right there!”

——

After straightening yourselves out and slipping on spare slides and sneakers, respectfully you grabbed Peter’s hand and led him towards the elevator.

“We’re not eating here?” He asked.

“Oh, we are.” You replied and hit the button for the roof as you got it.

“Y/N what are we—“

You pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh, all will be revealed, my love.” Peter only rolled his eyes before licking your finger and you recoiled.

“Gross!” You exclaimed

“Oh really? Well just wait until—“ But his words were cut off once again as the elevator reached its destination.

A shout of “Surprise!” Rang out from everyone on the rooftop which had been decorated with the utmost care as a ‘Congratulations Peter’ banner hovered over the crowd in red and blue. Everyone was there, all the Avengers, MJ and Ned, Strange and even Shuri. The genuine look of surprise and joy on Peter’s face was enough to have you praying that DUM-E was actually recording like you told it to. If not, it was going to be the new jungle gym for an elementary school.

As Peter gave his greets and thanks to his guests you drifted over towards your mom who was holding a sleeping Morgan in her arms.

“You two look happy,” She smiled.

You couldn’t help the grin that took over your features. “We are, we really really are.”

Pepper took a sip of her drink. “I hope you’re using protection, Morgan and I are a little too young to be grandma and niece.” You sputtered at that, grateful that you didn't have a drink in your hand.

“Mom please.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe next time,” she gestured to her own neck, “cover-up.” She winked.

You gasped and coved your neck quick as lightning, “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Here’s your chance.” She winked before walking off under the guise of wanting to put your sister down.

You felt Peter before you saw him, an arm wrapped around your waist and his lips kissed your temple. You wanted to be annoyed but you leaned in on instinct instead.

“I’m gonna kill you, Parker,” you spoke but your threat was weak.

“Whoa, and here I was about to thank you for this wonderful surprise,” he pouted, moving in front of you and placing both hands on your waist. The two of you were near the edge of the roof while the others were towards the center giving you a feeling of pseudo privacy.

“Well you’re welcome but our entrance would have been much better if it wasn’t for this.” You pointed accusingly at your neck and he squinted. You swatted at his chest at his antics.

“Ah, what? It’s really not that bad,” He leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “I could have done a lot more damage.”

You shivered even though at sunset it was still almost eighty degrees, Peter wasn’t playing fair and he knew it.

You whispered back. “Well, maybe next time you do it so I can enjoy I.” To accentuate your point you left a kiss just below his ear, heating your body up just enough to get a reaction out of him.

Peter groaned and his grip on your waist tightened as he placed his forehead against yours and smiled.

“I will. But seriously, thank you for all of this. I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend,” his voice was still quiet, like it was a secret just between the two of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Have I told you how much I love hearing you call me that?”

“Well how about I change that?”

You were confused as Peter removed one hand to fish around in his pocket. He took a hand step back from you and you let your arms fall back to your sides. He finally pulled out a blue velvet box and slowly opened the lid. You were met with a beautiful platinum ring with a gemstone — your birthstone — nestled beside Peter’s birthstone, peridot. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes.

“Peter is this…?”

“It’s not a formal engagement but it is most certainly a promise. We’ve been through a lot these last few years and I realized that the reason I got through any of it was you by my side. And when we’re ready I want to make this an engagement ring.” He explained and there was so much emotion in his eyes you wondered if he would cry too. “So what do you say?” “I love it, god, I love you,” You spoke and that was enough for him to push the box back in his pocket and place the ring on your finger. It was a perfect fit and you couldn’t help but stare at it for a few moments before you looked back at the love of your life.

“I love you too, Y/N. More than you know.” And with that, he pulled you into a loving kiss that probably would have gone on for too long if it wasn’t for the cheers and shouts behind you.

You turned around and hugged Peter around the middle, the two of you laughed at your friends and family together and you couldn't help be bask in this feeling of love and peace.

With Peter by your side, you knew anything was possible.

THE END.

-----

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE!!! Whether you stuck around or not I am genuinely grateful and I hope you all enjoyed it!!

Much Love - Duckie

[acciomalfoy]

the way the planets align (fred weasley x reader)

A/N; this fic is @fromashescomephoenixes child and i assisted in raising it :) so go check her out rn cos she is wonderful!

summary: y/n grew up alongside her two bestfriends, but life had other plans when y/n moved to france when she was 11. prior to the triwizards tournament, fred and y/n are forced to face the lives they lived, and the radio silence of the past year has an explanation afterall.

word count: a whopping 7.5k

-

It’s funny, really. How quickly life can pick you up, and how quickly life can throw you back down.

 “Faster!” I had screamed as the wind rushed through my hair. I remembered this moment the most. With the wind rushing through my hair and knotting it like nothing else, I felt like I was an eagle all the way up here. My nest? Quite simple really. The boy sitting in front of me. 

 Reality though, was quite different. I was on one of the Weasley’s seven brooms, and Fred was sat in front of me. I hadn’t met many quidditch players, but I already knew that Fred was a damn good one. We had had a plan, you see. Once we arrived at Hogwarts, we were going to become the youngest quidditch players ever. We had it all planned out..  

Fred began his descent to the ground in a swift plunge, and I clutched onto him tightly. If I made it to the ground, I was going to murder the idiot. 

 “Freddie!” I yelled out, and he only laughed.

 “Don’t worry y/n! I’m the best quidditch player of all time,” He yelled back, and I wasn’t quite sure what occurred in that moment, but as soon as Fred slowed down his descent by a fraction, I knew I was in for it. 

 “Sure you are,” I giggled. “Although I’m slightly better,” The wind caught Fred’s response to this, so I never heard it. Looking back, I wonder what he had said. For once, everything seemed perfect. When we reached the ground, I was torn between kissing the ground and wishing I was still flying with Fred.

 “I’ll never get sick of flying like that,” Fred smiled. The summer had made his freckles stand out even more than usual. I grinned back at him as we raced into the burrow.  

 “Darling y/n!” Molly greeted me cheerfully. “I haven’t seen you in ages! It must have been at least two hours,” she teased in a loving tone, and I could only grin back at her.

 “I missed you!” Ginny cheerfully chimed in as she gave me a hug. I waved to her and gave her a hug while Fred and George grabbed a couple of pumpkin pasties out of the cupboard.

 “Good afternoon y/n,” Percy greeted me as he peered over the top of his book. He was wearing strange glasses, which he swore he needed but Fred and George said he simply fancied that they made him look more grown up.

 “Er, hello!” I cheerfully replied. Percy always seemed so much more grown up than Fred and George and I, that I almost felt awkward talking with him.

 “Oh!” I remembered suddenly. “Would it be okay if Fred and George come over to my house for dinner tonight?” I asked Molly. Percy glanced up, but quickly resumed his uninterested reading.

 “Please mum!” Fred and George begged one unison. They liked my house because mum always made dessert. Although George always liked to tease me by saying Fred likes dinner anywhere that I was. I didn’t mind that idea, in fact it only made me blush, but I knew George was joking. Molly nodded her approval and we ran out the door, eager to spend the afternoon in the sun. 

 We began our hike to our absolute favourite picnic tree, where the sun was softly filtering through the leaves of the forest. We were by no means quiet as we joked and laughed our way through the woods.

 Finally we reached our picnic tree. I was the first to shimmy up the ladder. We had found the tree about three years ago, and from then on it became our hideout. The tree had such a huge trunk that even with all three of us we couldn’t get our arms around it! The trunk split into three large branches about eight feet off of the ground, and grew on from there.

 “We’ll have to find a new hideout at Hogwarts,” I sighed, but spoke loudly enough so they could hear me down the ladder.

 “I bet there’s some sort of secret room we could use!” Fred suggested eagerly.

 “Or we could just stinkbomb whatever room we want, and then no one else would want to use it!” George suggested as he popped his head over the top of the ladder.

 “Yeah, but I don’t know if I could even get used to that scent,” I wrinkled my nose in memory of the one we set off last Christmas.

 “Ah true,” Fred sighed. “Bet there’s a charm for that issue though!” We giggled and continued to talk about our plans for Hogwarts. We’d all be going next year, although I was still waiting for my letter since my birthday wasn’t until the next week. 

 -

 Dinner was certainly memorable that night. Fred, George and I walked back with about fifteen minutes to spare. They ran across the lane to get changed in time for dinner. I put on my favourite maroon dress and dashed downstairs just in time to hear the doorbell.

 “Hey guys!” Their marching grind beamed towards me and we sat down to a delicious dinner of homemade pizza. I should have noticed something was up, because we only ever had homemade pizza like that when there was big news. At the tender age of 10, this was the worst news I had ever received.

 “Are you boys excited for Hogwarts?” My mum had asked Fred and George. Of course, this launched us all into our carefully laid out plan. This extended to everything from what house we would be in, to what desserts we would eat on the first night.

 “Well, we have some exciting news,” My dad began. I glanced up, curious if my letter had arrived early or something. Unfortunately I was a bit preoccupied by a bit of cheese that was extra gooey on my pizza.

 “You’ll all get to experience two wizarding schools! In a way at least,” Mum announced this and we all instantly wanted to cheer. Secretly I hoped she would say we were all going on a gap year to Durmstrang. There was something so mysterious about it!

 “We’ve enrolled y/n at Beauxbatons as we’ll be moving there in August!” Dad positively beamed towards us all. Obviously they expected a rush of excitement about this, but what were we meant to say? I stared at my mother.

 “Without Fred and George?” My mom nodded a little sadly to confirm my worst fear.

 “But I’m sure you could all write letters or something!” My dad piped up. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t cry in front of Fred and George. Well, I could. They’d be very supportive, but I didn’t want to show them just how upset I was about it.

 “Excuse me,” I pushed aside my plate and left. I bounded up the stairs to my room, which was decorated with Holyhead Harpies posters. In a matter of moments my world had come crashing down. Beauxbatons was in France for Merlin’s sake! I would be completely and utterly alone. I sighed quietly, and opened up my window, leaning against the window sill. 

 It was quiet for a long time, the only sound I could hear being my own shallow breath as I tried to control my tears. A freckle covered arm nudged mine, and when I looked to my right I saw my best friend.

 “You know that nothing will change, right?” He asked quietly, and I laughed humorlessly.

 “Everything will change, Freddie. I can’t abuse Snape with you guys, or be the youngest chaser on the quidditch team. I want to go to Hogwarts.” I leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder, and he let out a long breath.

 “We can write to each other every week. Yeah, we can do that. Everything will be the same, nothing could tear us apart.” It was quiet again.

 “You promise?” I whispered, and he entwined his pinkie finger with mine.

 “I promise.”

••••

 Fred had fucking lied, I thought bitterly. We were sixteen now, and the letter exchanging had fallen through two years ago. I felt resentment rising in my chest, but I knew it was no one’s fault. It’s just the way that things unfold. Now, as I stood outside the Great Hall I had dreamt of entering my entire life, I had to still my hands as they involuntarily shook. I had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to even be afraid of really, and yet I couldn’t stop my heart from clouding my judgement as it always had as a child. Maybe there was just something about Fred that made me lose all inhibitions. 

 “Now!” Madame Maxine shrieked, and the doors flew open with a resounding bang. There was a split second where we froze, the eyes of Hogwarts on us. It wasn’t until the older girls flew forward did the rest of us, and without even seeing him I just knew where Fred was sitting.

 Something about a sixth sense, our parents used to say. I was Fred’s twin instead of George, with how finely tuned our minds were. We were always able to sense when something had happened to the other, or pinpoint the exact location of one another despite being apart. 

 I willed myself to look away from the flurry of red robes in the centre table. Knowing my luck, I would see a Weasley with questions written all over their face. It was something I couldn’t handle right now. Something that maybe I would never be able to handle. I curtseyed when I was supposed to, eyeing a yellow-robed boy who winked at me, and we continued marching forward.

 I knew that the house of courage was the next house to be curtseyed to, and I decided that if I had gone to Hogwarts, I definitely wouldn’t have made it into that house. I stared at the ground as I curtseyed and continued forward. During the dance we performed I was looking at the roof or the ground, anywhere but the sea of students in front of us. We hurried to the side, and I made the fatal mistake of looking into the crowd.

 Right into the eyes of a smiling Fred Weasley. 

••••

I sat down angrily at the Ravenclaw table. I’m not sure if anger was the right word for what I was feeling. But really how else am I supposed to describe the heartbreak, the sense of loss, and fear I felt. It was all too much. I simply couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. Especially as it was the hall we had so expertly planned our pranks, and conversations, and lives for. 

 What hurt the most, quite possibly, was knowing that there had never been a relationship to begin with. I wasn’t sure how old I was when I realised Fred was definitely better looking than most, and at some point during our letter exchange I had begun to fall for my friend. 

 “Y/n?” My friend Marie nudged me. “You looked beautiful out there!” She encouraged me eagerly, seeing that I was incredibly quiet.

 “Merci, Marie.” I managed a small smile towards her. “I just feel a bit out of place,” I shrugged. 

 “Well, I’m sure any number of boys here are eager to make sure we feel right at home,” Marie wiggled her eyebrows towards me as I let out a small laugh. I rolled my eyes before picking up a fork. “What about...” Her eyes scanned the room for a minute.

 “That one!” She pointed towards the Gryffindor table. I nearly choked on my piece of potato when I saw that of all the boys in the room, she had picked him...

 Fred Weasley’s eyes burned into mine again. I couldn’t stand it a moment longer and I murmured a quick excuse before rising from the table and leaving the hall hurriedly.

••••

When making the choice of leaving the hall, I had forgotten one thing. I didn’t know my right from left in this fucking castle. Everything was dimly lit, and there were endless corridors and nooks that aided in my getting hopelessly lost. I could vaguely recall the halls from Hogwarts: A History, but that had been six, seven years ago. 

 Eventually, I gave up and collapsed into a secluded corner. All things considered, there could have been a worse spot to allow four years of harsh feelings catch up to me. The starlight dimly illuminated by shaking hands, and bounced off of my silvery blue skirt. It was altogether peaceful, apart from my soft shuddering sobs. 

 “Hey,” a voice suddenly broke the secrecy of my break down.

 “Fred, I don’t want to see you right now.” I groaned. His warm brown eyes and soft freckles were too much. They still made my heart flutter and my head spin. As if I was soaring through the air on my broom again, a little girl having a crush on a little boy.

 “What? Why not?” He asked, flabbergasted. I turned the other way, and began to trace the soft patterns of my wand, as I often did when I was nervous. 

 “We’re not friends anymore. You clearly forgot me.” I accused him. It felt good to finally see him and show him how awful he had been to stop writing.

 “You’re the one who stopped writing to me!” He fired back, and I slowly shook my head. He had ignored my letters for over a year and had the nerve to lie to my face about it. 

 “Go. Away.” I coldly turned, and positively bolted down the hall. The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. Letters had begun growing scarce around our third/fourth year, and it was seemingly reasonless. The trail had truly gone cold at the end of our fourth year, and that was when the real heartbreak had set in. What a time to be alive. 

••••

“George, did you keep writing to y/n?” Fred was sprawled on one of the many lounges in the Gryffindor common room, while George was lying at his feet. 

 “No, we never even started writing to each other,” He shrugged. Y/n and George had never been quite as close, and they naturally fell out of touch when she moved. 

 Fred pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of his robe pocket, and lovingly smoothed it out.

 “She stopped writing to me in fourth year.” Fred whispered. At this George sat bolt upright. The thought of Fred and Y/n not being best friends was a startling one, one that had never come across his mind. 

 “What do you mean?” George asked, clearly stunned. His twin and y/n had written weekly for as long as he could remember. “Why didn’t you check if it got lost?” Fred shook his head.

 “I did George,” He held up the crumpled paper he was holding. His pained expression was almost too much for the twin to bare. “I wrote four fucking times. This one was going to be my last hope,” He crumpled it back up, and shoved it into a pocket dejectedly. 

 “Oh Fred...” George sighed. “I suppose a prank on Gin is out of the question then?”  

 “I can’t right now.” Fred ribbed his face in his hand. He felt so lost and confused after his encounter with y/n. How could she have thought he would ever want to stop writing to her? Something must have happened to the letters, but he felt like he must be kidding himself if he thought that 5 different letters could get lost. Errol wasn’t that old, was he? 

••••

I dressed quickly in the morning in my pale blue, silky uniform. Although I still sometimes wished that I had gone to Hogwarts, I had to say that the Beauxbatons uniform was much better. As I exited the dormitory I bumped into my friend Maurice who had just exited his dormitory.

 “Salut!” Maurice greeted me cheerfully as we fell into step beside each other. 

 “Quoi de neuf?” I muttered. Though we all mostly spoke English around each other, we also had fun, shorter chats in French. At Beauxbatons they taught most classes in English, except for potions since it was so precise and they couldn’t risk as translational mix up. 

 “You okay y/n?” Maurice asked, pausing and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Aunty Lisa told me to keep an eye on you,” I sighed. Of course, mother would set my cousin on my tail to make sure I didn’t stress. 

 “Never better,” I grinned. “I might, er, run to the bathroom before breakfast,” I turned and threw a wave towards Maurice before I left. I hurried down a random corridor and hoped I’d be able to find a hufflepuff or something to show me to the great hall later.

 For now, I didn’t pay any attention to where I was going as I slowly walked around. I let my eyes drink up the lovely sights of Hogwarts. It was still sinking in that I was finally seeing it, even if I was seeing it under much different circumstances than I had hoped. I ducked away into a corridor as I heard hurried footsteps coming up behind me. Unfortunately I had misjudged, and they were coming towards me, not passing me. 

 “Y/n?” I heard a voice that I vaguely recognised, but couldn’t place. “What are you doing here?” After a moment of thought I finally placed the voice to Percy Weasley. 

 Bloody hell, of the hundreds of student in the castle it seemed I’d only ever meet the Weasleys. 

 “Hello Percy,” I mustered up as much cheerfulness as I could and I tried to walk past him. He grabbed my arm, and I was forced to stop and converse with him.

 “Well!” He smiled broadly, “How have you been?” Clearly he had a much different memory of how close we had been, because he was acting about ten times kinder than I’d expect. 

 “Really well, thank you.” I turned my lips up, hoping to achieve a smile. “Are you hoping to participate in the tournament?” 

 “Oh heavens,” He laughed in a very uptight manner. “No, no. I work for the ministry now.” He said with an air of self importance. 

 “Well, congratulations.” I spoke, with a hint of sarcasm and I made to excuse myself.

 “Would you like me to walk you to breakfast?” I cringed as my escape was foiled. 

 “Er, actually, I was heading to my dorm.” I lied on the spot, cursing the sound of my grumbling tummy. 

 “Oh! Which tower are you in?” I again cursed my poor lie. Thankfully, I was saved (or further doomed) by Fred coming around the corner. 

 “Y/n! Can we please talk?” Fred sprinted towards me and grabbed my hand. I saw some sort of emotion flicker cross Percy’s eyes as I shouted good bye and followed Fred. I laughed once we turned a corner.

 “Thanks Freddie,” I grinned a moment, forgetting I was meant to be angry with him. One more look at his honey brown eyes sent the negative emotions straight into my heart, however. “I’ll be going now,” I began to leave haughtily.

 “No. You won’t.” Fred begged. “Please let me talk to you.” I nearly yielded, but couldn’t stand the idea of my heart broken again with excuses of why my friendship wasn’t worth it. 

 “I can’t talk to you, Fred. Merlin, it hurts for me to even look at you. It’s heartbreak if I’ve ever known it.” I whispered quietly before racing away. Somehow I ended up in the Great Hall, with snot and tears on my face. 

 Before entering, I gently cleaned my face with a charm, and reapplied the natural makeup I had on. Determined to brave the hall before risking running into another Weasley, I calmly walked towards the Ravenclaw table.

 “Oh Marie,” I groaned. It was I could do to keep my composure and not sprawl my head onto the table. Luckily, as my best friend she was able to see this. She patted my back gently, and placed a fresh chocolate croissant on my plate. “Thank you” I smiled. 

 “Of course,” She smiled back towards me. “Did you get lost?” She giggled slightly. 

 “More hopelessly than you could ever know!” To her this would seem like dramatic flair, however I truly felt lost at heart. Unsure how to proceed between Fred’s excuses, Percy’s kindness, and the stress of possibly entering the tournament. I wanted to believe that Fred was telling the truth about the letters, but it didn’t add up.

 The last letter I had sent before Fred stopped writing had been a special one. I had been unable to hold in my feelings towards him any longer. At the end of the letter I had explained that I loved him. Not in the sisterly, or friendly way that I had previously led him to believe. But a real love. 

 Of course he stopped writing. I couldn’t blame him. But I had hoped that he wouldn’t let in stop our friendship. It had hurt. It still hurt, because even though I was young I also knew more than ever that I loved Fred. 

--

“I heard that a ministry official is going to ask you to the ball, y/n.” Marie whispered in that way of hers, and I stared aghast.

“What? Surely that’s illegal.” I whispered back, and Madame Maxine stared at us over the rim of her glasses. I swallowed before picking up my quill.

“Nothing’s illegal for ministry officials, silly. Have you heard of Percy Weasley before?” I froze. Percy fucking Weasley. 

“No, I haven’t. He sounds like a proper nonce.” Marie and I broke into peels of laughter, and another look from Madame silenced us. 

“Will you say yes?” Marie had long mastered the ability to speak with her mouth closed, and had tried in vain to teach me.

“Absolutely not.” I replied, and the sounds we heard for the rest of the lesson were quill scratching parchment and our headmistresses voice. 

-- 

It was on my way to another lunch in the gardens that I was ambushed by arguably my favourite Weasley.

“Hey Georgie.” I couldn’t help the old nickname fall from my lips, and he smiled at me.

“I’ve missed you.” He said, and I smiled sadly.

“I’ve missed you too, silly. I assume you didn’t find me for pleasantries though. You were never the most tactful Weasley, were you?” I laughed at the look of sheer outrage on George’s face, and he eventually chuckled.

“Rumour has it that you stopped talking to my brother a year ago.” He said, and I sighed.

“Fred stopped writing to me after I sent him a letter confessing how I felt about him. Take that as you will, but I took it as a clear rejection.” I took a deep breath, now able to say Fred’s name without falling into pieces. George stopped.

“What? Fred said you stopped talking to him, and I don’t like to think of my brother as a liar.” He said hotly, and I stared at him.

“Am I a liar, Georgie?” 

It was quiet for a long time.

“No, you’re not.” 

-

“Miss L/n!” I should have known that I couldn’t escape Percy Weasley. He was relentless, and I wondered if he knew what the word no meant.

“Hi, Percy. I’m actually on my way to class, I’m afraid.” I tried to end the conversation before it could begin, but no such luck.

“Perfect! I’ve been meaning to walk you to class for a while! Gentlemens chivalry and all.” He looped an arm under mine and I reluctantly started walking.

“Now that I’ve got you here, I wonder how you managed to rank top three in all of your classes. Naturally, I always ranked top five, but that’s mildly less impressive. I think it goes without saying that I topped most of my NEWT’s, but I’m still intrigued on what your methods are. There’s still plenty of learning and memorising that goes on at the Ministry, you see, and I think that you and I would make a great team. Who knows, maybe you can be my assistant when I’m Minister of Magic one day.” I tuned Percy out as quickly as I could. Really, I couldn’t think of anyone who would actually want to listen to Percy for five minutes, let alone the rest of his life. 

I thought wistfully of Fred during the walk to my class, and how much my heart ached at the mention of his name. Maybe I had been harsh on him. Suppose our letters had been lost in the post? It wasn’t unlikely, and it sure would explain why he seemed so confused and upset. 

“Well, this is my stop.” I interrupted him as he droned on and on and on and on and-

“It was a pleasure as always.” Percy picked up my hand and I tried not to gag as he kissed it. Was there anything quite as horrible as this was? I didn’t think so. Oh, maybe your best friend cutting contact with you after you confess your love to him. My life was going spectacularly.  

“See ya.” I darted inside the classroom, spying Maurice and Marie sitting by the door. 

“Hey, y/n.” They chorussed. I noticed with relief that Madame hadn’t arrived yet, and I slid into the seat beside Maurice.

“Salut.” I sat in silence thinking about how weird Percy was, when my breath caught in my throat.

I hadn’t been ranked top three in every class this year, and the last time I had been ranked top three must have been in fourth year. I recalled a quill in my hand as I wrote to Fred excitedly, and the emptiness I had felt upon not receiving a letter. Was it possible? 

I think it was about time I had another chat with George. 

-

“Where are you going George?” Fred glanced up, half interested. His gaze was still fixed on the list of products him and his brother were assembling.

 “Ah, just for a stroll,” George explained as he subtly picked up Fred’s robe instead of his own. The twin hardly nodded, as he became immersed once more in the list of clever tricks and treats they had assembled. George thanked Merlin for his good luck and slipped out the portrait hole.

 Once safely in the corridor, George felt around in the inner pocket to find what he was looking for. Thankfully, it was right where Fred had left it. As always. George pulled out the crumpled parchment, but didn’t dare to open it. It was too personal he had decided. He was simply acting as a messenger, he reminded himself.

 Y/n had invited George to meet her in the library after lunch. Thankfully, after being at the castle for nearly two months at this point, she knew her way around. Now, George thought, all that’s left to do is deliver a letter.

-

“George!” I hissed from a secluded corner of the library. This library was nice, but if I’m being honest I preferred the lighter atmosphere of the library at Beauxbatons.

 “Oh! Hello y/n, fancy seeing you here!” George teased and winked towards me. In return I rolled my eyes, but still had to suppress a giggle at his overused joke. 

 “Look I need to ask-“ I began to feel a little flustered.

 “How did I get my dashing good looks?” He ran a hand through his hair and struck a pose. 

 “No I-“ 

 “Sorry doll, I’m taken. But I have a twin!” George sent finger guns my way, and pretended to swagger away.

 “No! George!” As frustrating as it was, I had missed George’s little jokes. “Did you know Percy had a crush on me?” I questioned firmly. George’s jaw dropped open.

 “I mean-“ He ribbed his neck sheepishly “We used to suspect it in first and second year. But Fred beat him up about it and we thought that was that!” I buried my face in my hands, cringing at the very thought. Merlin’s soggiest sock couldn’t make this any worse. 

 “I think I know what happened,” I sighed. I felt defeated, and mean. I couldn’t believe the things I had said to Fred. How I’d brushed him away. Now the task at hand was talking to that Weasel that had ruined everything. 

 “Well, I don’t know exactly what conclusion you’ve reached,” George gently spoke. “But I think you should read this,” Before he left he pressed the folded, crumpled parchment into her hand. 

-

“George!” Fred sang out as soon as George entered their dorm room. “I have a plan!” He leaped from bed to bed in a happy spirit that often accompanies new hopes.

 “I’m going to ask y/n to the ball!” He exclaimed. George sighed, unsure how his brother thought this would instantly fix things. Luckily for Fred, George had pulled a few extra strings for the odds to be completely in his favour. 

-

“Marie!” I sobbed as she came into the dorm. This was probably not how she expected to find me tonight, and the shock on her face was obvious. 

 I had ripped the covers off of my bed and wrapped them around me like a large cocoon. Then I had promptly laid down and cried for the better part of an hour. At least it was a good test of my makeup setting charm.

 The letter is what did it. Oh! The letter! I cradled it ever closer to my heart as I sobbed again. He had written with all the heartbreak I had felt, with all the love I had felt, with all of the friendship I had felt. And it never got to me! Just as my letter never got to him!

 “He loves me Marie!” I gasped. “He wrote me five letters.” Marie, like the true friend she was, promptly crawled into the cocoon with me and began to rock me softly. 

 “Hush, mon caneton,” she whispered. I steadied my breathing and hugged her tightly. Thank goodness that we had both decided to come on this trip. I don’t know what I would have done without her.

 “I love him too,” I admitted. 

 “Well what are you waiting for?” Marie asked with a knowing look on her face, and I slowly nodded. She was right.

 “Go attack that little weasel.” I laughed in delight, and Marie gave me a soft shove out of our cocoon of blankets.

 “Go!” She repeated, and with another shove I stumbled out of our room. I had no clue where I would find a certain Percy Weasley at this hour, and I didn/t quite know where to begin. Only one person reminded me of Percy, and I figured I may as well head to his room.

 “Professor Snape.” I smiled politely as he opened the door after I knocked, and he merely scowled.

 “Pray tell me what you are doing outside of my classroom.” He sneered, and I stopped smiling.

 “Do you know where I can find-” I was rudely interrupted by none other than the man of the hour.

 “Miss L/n! How I’ve longed to see you!” Percy popped out from being Snape, and I found myself being guided away from the dungeons by the very person I wanted to slap.

 “I’m sure I have longed to see you more.” I said, and he squeezed my shoulder. I almost threw up, right then and there.

 “Why were you looking for me, my dearest?” I was two seconds away from punching the smarmy bastard in the face, and I took a deep breath.

 “I just wanted to let you know that if you ever try to come between Fred and I again, the letters you stole will be the least of your worries. I will ruin you, Weasley, and you better not forget it.” I snarled as I shoved his shoulder before walking off, and the stunned silence fueled my satisfaction.

 It was time to find my Weasley.

 Twenty minutes later and I couldn't find a trace of him. My heart sunk to my stomach. What if my coolness had finally gotten through and he had given up? Was he avoiding me? I slumped into my seat at dinner and leaned my head on Marie's shoulder.

 "I can't find him," I sighed. She reached over and patted my back while she swallowed her bite of quiche.

 "Well, he couldn't have gone too far!" She attempted to cheer me up. Out of habit, my eyes wandered over to the area where Fred and George usually sat. I raised an eyebrow as I found that their spots were empty. Loud footsteps behind me caught my attention and I snapped my head around the other way.

 Thank Merlin, it was George. He was jogging towards me and his robes flapped behind him.

 "Y/n!" He greeted me once he was within earshot. I waved and grabbed another piece of pizza.

 "You play quidditch at Beauxbatons, right?" Marie perked up beside me and grinned before proceeding to sing my praises.

 "She's only the best chaser I've ever seen! You should've seen last sea-" I cut her off, blushing furiously.

 "Yes. I play quidditch." I rolled my eyes.

 "Great, can you help me with something?" George begged. I nodded and followed him out of the room. The sun was just beginning to set, and the air was quite chilly. I wondered what he could possibly need help with at this time. Especially since quidditch had been cancelled this year!

 After we left the hall, and I was extremely puzzled what was happening I began to ask a few quesitons.

 "Do you know where Fred is? I can't find him," I asked George who looked completely bewildered.

 "Fred? No I have no idea!" His voice reached incredibly strange pitches and I realised quite quickly that he was lying.

 "So. What do you need my help with?" I suppressed a grin as I began to see what was happening.

 "Er," There was a pause while George thought of what exactly he had summoned me for. Luckily for him, Ron and Ginny were walking by at that exact moment. "Ron was thinking of trying out for keeper!" He explained desperately.

 Ginny's eyebrows shot up, and she slugged Ron in the arm.

 "Good for you little brother!" Ron's face burned red as they walked away and he began to make excuses.

 "Don't we need Ron for this then?" I grinned at George, and he began to mutter something under his breath.

 The rest of the walk passed relatively quickly as George and I caught up about everything that had happened since I moved. We easily fell into conversation thanks to Fred keeping us both updated on the other. Finally we arrived at the field.

 "Godric! I'm late for something." George looked at his non-existent watch and ran away before I could stop him.

 "What the hell?" I muttered as I began walking back to the exit of the quidditch pitch. Unfortunately, in my angry haze I tripped right over a broom that was lying on the grass. Gingerly, I picked it up, and paused. Why not, I thought, as I mounted the stray broom.

 "Y/n!" From a distance, I thought George had come back. I sped forward slightly, moving the broom precisely and smoothly to greet him. Of course, by 'greet' I meant cast a harmless hair changing charm. Luckily (for his sake,) I quickly noticed it was Fred. Unluckily (for my sake) I was now incredibly flustered and unsure what to say. I chanced a timid wave, and thanked Merlin when he returned it, equally timidly.

 "I'm sorry!" I instantly shouted, speeding down from my perch in the sky. I pulled out of the short dive just a few feet off of the ground.

 "No y/n," Fred shook his head "I'm sorry. I should have known you would never stop writing." He stared at his feet, looking ashamed. "Must've been that goddamn bird," He let out a nervous laugh, but continued to stare at the ground. I didn't want to bring Percy into this yet. He didn't deserve a place in what I hoped would become a treasured memory.

 "It wasn't your fault," My heart was breaking at the pain on his face. But how do you break this sort of news kindly? "I shouldn't have thought you would stop writing either, I just-" I trailed off, unsure what to say.

 "What was in that last letter you sent?" He asked glancing up. I paused, hopping off my broom. Fred followed in his actions, and our eyes finally met.

 "Wait, you never even saw it?" I knew that he'd most likely never seen it, but I had always imagined Percy had let him receive it at least. Little did I know the precision that Percy carried out his plans with.

 He had begun by snatching a letter here and there. Laying the foundation for doubt of each other's consistency of correspondence. He had saved the letters sent by me, burned the ones sent by Fred, and written his own imaginary replies. I had become an obsession for him. So much so that when he saw me this year, he thought we would instantly pick up where we had left off in his imagined reality.

 The day I had sent the letter to Fred. That all important letter. He had taken it and saved it for himself. Looking upon my words of love, and imagining they were from him. The thought of Percy receiving those words instead of Fred brought tears to my eyes.

 "No," He admitted.

 "I wanted to tell you-" I cut myself off. What if all Fred was searching was the friendship we had previously shared? I bit my tongue and held a silent debate until I finally plucked up my courage.

 "I love you," I let the sweet words fly away towards him. I hoped they'd be returned. That their fragile wings would be cradled, rather than crushed. A momentary surprise froze Fred. The stress of the situation made those few seconds feel like hours. Hours of anguish and feeling entirely exposed and unprotected. Finally, Fred sprang in to motion. He rushed towards me, as his lips found mine, my eyes fluttered closed. It was just Fred and I, the aligned planets watching as their plan fell into place. Fred tasted like strawberries and he sucked softly on my lip. I couldn’t help from running my hand through his messy hair, and I felt him grin into the kiss. 

 "Go to the Yule ball with me my darling?" He asked softly as we broke apart.

 "Of course my love," I let my head rest on his strong chest as we let the last flickers of sunset wash over us.

 The ball had approached much quicker than expected. Over the past two weeks, a lot had happened. First, I had explained to Fred what Percy had done. I didn't want to create a rift between the brothers, but it was the only way to fully explain and resolve the situation. Fred had looked very solemn, and confronted Percy who denied everything. Unfortunately for him, he carried around my last letter with him which was quite incriminating when we discovered it.

 Fred and I had hardly spent a moment away from each other.

 I had a periwinkle blue mini dress on, which hugged tightly around me. Over top, I had a sheer silvery blue gown that shimmered like stars as I moved. All of the Beauxbatons girls had picked something of the same color scheme, but this dress felt so me that I didn't mind. After curling my hair into delicate ringlets I helped Marie curl her hair and then we left.

 I took a deep breath as we glided down the stairs after Madam Maxine. I could hardly contain my excitement. My heartbeat felt similar to when I was anticipating a particularly good match of quidditch.

 Fred was standing there looking spectacular in his dress robes. He had charmed his tie to be a periwinkle blue, and he was holding a small bouquet of lavender flowers. The moment I smelled them, I remembered that moment with him on that broom. I remembered the rush of adventure, the hint of recklessness, but most importantly: the trust. I trusted him so much.

 He took my hand, and we silently walked into the ball. It almost felt too perfect. Too cliche, not unique enough for such a special story. Our story that we were writing one page at a time.

 After a few songs spent pleasantly dancing, laughing, and whispering lost words to each other I had an idea.

 "Freddie?" I whispered as I leaned my head onto his chest.

 "Mmm?" He swayed us gently to the sweet music.

 "Can we leave?" I asked. "I want to go on a broom with you again," I explained. His face softened and he took my hand as we walked to the quidditch pitch.

 Here we were. Up in the air again. I spread my arms, testing if my eagle wings were still there. They were. And as an eagle, I had finally reunited with my nest. I brought my wings back down to take hold of the broomstick. This time I was in control, and I'd had a bit more practice than 10 year old Fred had had. So, I sent us into a steep dive, almost until it felt like a free fall.

 After the rush of adrenaline I soared back up until we reached the roof of Gryffindor tower. I couldn't stop myself from imagining how many sleepless nights we could've spent talking here. How many breakfasts, and boring classes I could've spent with him.

 As I saw the moonlight softly reflect off of Fred's pale face I realised then and there. He was my soulmate. He was my perfect match. He was the person that I didn't want to spend a single minute without unless I absolutely had to.

 I told him so too.

 "Freddie," We were holding hands again as we laid on top of a soft blanket he had conjured to lay down on the roof. The incline of it was just barely safe to lay down on without sliding off. I didn't feel scared though, I had Fred to anchor me.

 "You look beautiful in the moonlight y/n," He turned his lively eyes towards me. I blushed and smiled slightly.

 "I love you so much," I began. He kept his eyes trained into mine. Giving me his full attention. "I don't want to lose you again, okay?" I took a somewhat shaky breath. " I just mean, the past couple weeks have felt like a dream.” I said, and Fred held my hand.

 “I know, pretty girl. You won’t lose me again, not if there’s anything I can do about it.” I squeezed his hand back, and we watched the night sky in all its glory.

 I was standing in my dorm room, nearly ready to leave when an owl flew into the window. Plonk, I realised it was poor Errol. It appeared he could hardly handle a flight around Hogwarts anymore. I tucked him into a small blanket and gave him an owl treat. He let out an appreciative coo and snuggled into the cozy nest I'd made. I unrolled the parchment, and twirled the sprig of lavender that had been in the ribbon between my fingers.

 Dearest y/n,

 Today you go back to Beauxbatons. I'm sorry I can't be there in person, but I'm happy to tell you everything is going really well.

 The shop looks amazing, although they can't have it ready for us until some time next year. I figure this will work well anyway since we still have a few more products to perfect. (Thanks for helping us with the antidote for the puking pastilles by the way!!)

 Also, the apartment will be perfect I think. We would be on one of the very top floors, so you might feel a bit at home given your talent for quidditch. It's close to diagon alley, but actually in muggle London, which I thought you might like. I said we'd take it within the next 8 months, since I'll obviously be leaving school before graduation and you'll be graduating in March.

 I hope the carriage ride is fairly nice. I know it won't be perfect since yours truly isn't there (wink wink) but I hope I'll be able to visit soon! I have to go for another surprise I'm working on, but I'll owl soon. I have my eye out for lovesick, letter stealing brothers this time!

 Yours forever and a day,

 Freddie

[timextoxhajima]

Grounded: Level 0

Level 1

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader, angst cause is it a dana fic if there is no angst

Taglist: @valeriee-h​

A/N: Thank you for 400 followers. You all have been nothing but exceptional. 

[F E B R U A R Y 2 0 1 6]

The metallic taste seeping into your mouth was starting to annoy you, and on top of that, the tears that were running down your cheeks and between your lips were stinging the wounds you managed to inflict on yourself with your teeth.

You can hear the laughter and the sound of the bass against the flooring from where you were, though you were a good distance away from the practicing hall. The room smelled like dust and must due to the hose reel box being unused for such a long time, you wouldn't know. Your hands were probably messed up from all the accidental touching of the walls and the floor -- and great, now you've gone ahead and wiped away your tears with your hands.

Your teeth are gritted so hard against each other that you can feel your temples tightening, and all you want to do was to pack up and go home and call it quits--

"I know you're in there."

Silence. Then a shadow comes to block the bars of light coming through the slits of the door.

Choosing to keep quiet, you don't know why you thought he'd go away. He was the vice-captain of the dance crew and he obviously wasn't going to let you go without getting you out of the hose reel storeroom.

"I'm not going to force you out. But I need to know just one thing."

A pause.

"Do you still like dancing?"

Out of shame, you look down to your knees, now curled up into your chest. The tears continue to fall because you both know your answer. It’s just the physical pain and lack of resistance that’s keeping you from going further.

You can hear him sigh when he leans against the door, the wood creaking just the slightest with his weight against it. It was almost completely dark, now that he’s covered most of the slits in the door. The sweat trailing down the sides of your forehead and down your cheek gets mistaken for tears, urging you to wipe them away with the back of your hand. 

“I know you’re tired, but if you stop here, then there’s no way you can improve.”

You gulp, your throat feeling dry from the continuous days of air-conditioned practice hall and then the crying did nothing but further aggravate it. 

“...What makes you think I can still improve? What if this is the furthest I can go?”

“I thought like that once,” A small thud. He probably leaned his head backwards. “But I signed up for this because I like it. And frankly, I don’t know what else I’d do if I don’t do this for myself. So, now my question is: who are you doing this for, and if you’re willing to continue doing it for yourself?”

Your head is empty. There’s nothing but the want to start moving again, it’s the reflection in the mirror you’re afraid to see. 

The music from the practise hall starts again. By now, the song is more than annoying, but the adrenaline always manages to push you through anyway. The door creaks and more light floods in when he shifts away. 

“Come talk to me if you need to after practise. But for now, just come back and finish for today, okay? I’ll see you inside.”

He stays still for a few moments, before the sound of his shoes shuffle away from the storage room. Leaning your head back against the wall, you let the humidity coat your face like a layer of warmth. 

Why’d he have to give me that stupid pep-talk?

Shutting your eyes tightly, you recall the amount of effort you took to audition for this. A stage where BTS would perform on, and they were looking for a small group of girls in the back-up dancers’ team. The chances were ten to... hundreds. 

You shuffle to your feet, eyelids heavy from the physical activity but heart still full of hope. Your fingers wrap around the cold handle of the door and push it open, greeting the bright lights that illuminate the corridor down to the practice hall.

“Where is-- Oh! There you are!” The choreographer nearly yells into the mic when you rush through the door, some of your other dance crew mates jokingly yells at you for taking your own sweet time. 

“Sorry, bathroom.”

“Okay, okay. GIve us a head up if you’re going to do a number 2 next time, would you?”

Some of the dancers chuckle at the choreographer’s teasing, nudging you or ruffling your hair before they return to their positions. And as you do, you cannot help but to lock eyes with the vice-captain in the front row. He had the tiniest smile you’ve ever seen, the kind that if you didn’t stare hard enough... or if you didn’t pay enough attention... you’d miss it. 

A small nods finds you, eyes of encouragement welling up in his brown orbs under the lighting, and then the choreographer asks for the music. It thrums through you like an Earthquake, but instead of conjuring magma and ash and gas, it sucks the passion out of you and motivates you to move your feet again. 

The practise session ends fast, only because you realised you had been enjoying it. So when the choreographer thanks the dance crew and jumps off to speak to the captain, you take your time to grab a drink for yourself and let some other crew members chat you up. 

That is, until you noticed the vice-captain strutting out of the practise hall quietly. Excusing yourself, you grab your belongings and rush out behind him, just missing the lift that he was in. 

He’s about twenty metres ahead when you run out of the stairs lobby, the cool end-of-winter wind kissing your sweaty skin.

“Minho!” 

The boy stops in his tracks, taking awhile to look up from his phone as he slowly turns his head around. He watches with intent eyes as you catch up to him, gently huffing from the hurrying after he quietly left the practice hall.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t disappoint me,” Minho looks back down at his phone before locking it. “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t come back.” 

Once you’ve aligned your footing with him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and waits for you to calm your breathing. The sky was dark now, but the streets were still bustling from all the night market activities - fried seafood, crackers, cotton candy. 

Minho turns his head back to the streets where waves of people were walking past, taking a first step to tell you he’s going to start walking. 

“I just wanted to thank you for that little pep-talk.”

“Pep-talk?” Minho chuckles under his breath. “Oh, you don’t know what a pep-talk sounds like.”

The crowd washes the both of you in some direction, the scent of food wafting in the air coupled with the overlapping conversations and loud music from some stands made you feel like you’ve just entered some amusement park. Smoke was prancing in the air against the night sky and people chewing loudly on food brought you some strange sense of nostalgia -- though you’ve walked this exact road for some months now. It just so happened that the night market only came round every Lunar New Year. 

“I just... I hope you know how much that means to me. It’s the first time I’ve done something of this scale so... it seems easier for me to lose faith.”

Minho stops at a particular store selling some honey-glazed apples and orders two. It’s like he didn’t hear you. 

Standing awkwardly next to him, the store owner carelessly hands Minho the two sticks with the stabbed apple on the top, and he doesn’t hesitate to hand her a five dollar bill. Just enough.

“Thank you,” He turns around, the store owner barely acknowledging his business. “People lose faith all the time. You just need to know when to force yourself to have it again.” 

Handing you one stick, Minho doesn’t wait for you to process the offer and his words simultaneously before he’s off again. By the time you’ve walked the length of the night market and reach the main streets of the city, Minho has cleared every drop of honey and apple on the stick, and you were just busy finishing up the last one-eighth of it, the bite nearly touching your fingers. 

At the bus stop, Minho drops himself on the bench, scrolling through his phone as you are occupied with licking the honey off your fingers while you find the nearest trashcan. Ironically, out here along the main road, there were fewer people. More traffic on the road, definitely. But it’s like everybody was so busy living their lives, you’ve forgotten to live yours. 

You’ve spent more than half your time in the last three months coming to this same practise hall, dancing the same steps over and over and over again until every cell in your blood and body knows it by heart. 

But what worth is it? For a performance that you wouldn’t even be seen?

You sigh, eyes darting downwards naturally to see what he’s been staring at on his phone-- then you see it. 

NEW EMAIL: CUBE AUDITION RESULTS

Your eyes widen, lips somehow still stuck together despite the overwhelming excitement in your lungs. Sucking your lips in between your teeth, you watch in anticipation as he clicks the notification and it directs him to his email. Poor boy doesn’t know you’re watching, but it’s a good thing, because the first two sentences were enough to tell you what his reaction could be. 

Dear Lee Minho, we’ve received your audition tape and reviewed it carefully. Unfortunately, we are unable to accept you as a trainee. We wish you the best in all your future endeavors. 

Regards,

Cube Audition Management

Biting down on your bottom lip, your eyes quickly flit away when he closes the app and keeps his phone. Standing next to him, it’s a wonder how he’s managed to hold himself together. If it had been you who was rejected, you’d be on the floor bawling by now. But Minho’s strength is subtly concrete when he only watches his bus arrive, standing up and only turning around to ask, “Are you taking the same bus?”

“Um, yeah but my dad’s coming to get me, so I’m waiting here.”

Minho nods, the bus stopping right at the foot of the bus stop. Other passengers waiting for the bus start to crowd, but Minho doesn’t bust an inch just yet. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You hum in response. They’ve started boarding, so Minho’s taking small steps towards the vehicle. 

“If you don’t come, believe me when I say I’ll whoop your ass.”

You can’t help the small scoff that bursts through your lips when he says it, that tiny smile of his emerging shyly on his face for a split second. Reducing the amount of time you get to admire that strength in him, he turns and gets on the bus. 

[D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 6]

At this point, half the dance crew was probably crying their hearts out back stage. BTS’ Fire and Not Today performance at the KBS Song Festival was the last official time you would be performing as one unit with this dance crew. Any Fire or Not Today performances in the future would call for a renewed or changed dance crew line-up, which meant you’ll never see the same group of people on stage again. 

Heck, even your captain was sobbing his eyes out, mercilessly pulling everybody he could find into a hug and muttering some incoherent words of gratitude in their ears. You were laughing and wiping away the droplets on your face, unsure if they were tears or sweat, when he came to you and pulled you into a bear hug. 

Everybody hears the heavy backstage door close and BTS shows up just steps from you, and the group of idols know very well that this was the last performance with the current line-up of crew members. 

“Dul, set, Bang! Tan!” More people are crying now, and Namjoon just looks prouder than he was sad. “Annyeong haseyo, Bangtansonyeondan ibnida.”

The captain literally starts wining, not hesitating to go up and hug Hoseok tightly. The members embrace him in the hug, offering him words of praise and compliment as Namjoon urges them to keep their volume down. The leader thanks the crew for the enduring hardwork for the past year - from when the track was first released, to the first choreography reviewing and then the constant performances on all kinds of stages. 

Blinking away your tears, you manage to catch Minho standing at the far end of the first row, and if you weren’t mistaken, you could catch Jimin showing him two thumbs up. 

“I hope to see all of you around, and once again, BTS thanks you for your hardwork for the last year. Take care everybody!” 

Everybody erupts into loud yells of ‘thanks’ and ‘bye’s, but before you can the other crew members in shaking their hands as they return to their dressing room, one of BTS’ assistant managers approach you.

“Hi, can I check if you’re y/n?”

“Uh--” Minho catches your frantic glancing behind the assistant manager. “Yes.”

“Great, so...” The assistant manager fumbles in his back pocket, your eyes darting down to notice him pulling out a name card. Your peripheral vision presents you with Minho looking at you from behind the assistant manager, eyes and ears peeled. “We’ve been monitoring the dance unit and... we think you might have potential.”

He hands you the name card, and your hands are trembling when you process the carbon printing on it.

BIGHIT CASTING

Anxious, you look back up at the assistant manager. Yet, he offers you a mere smile before walking away, leaving you and Minho behind as the rest of the crew pushes themselves nearer to the back of the staff area. 

The restaurant had been booked for the sole purpose of the dance unit celebrating your final performance there, and while the card was being bent in all sorts of different ways in your back pocket, all you cared about was being in a moment.

BigHit casting? Why would you even subject yourself to that kind of torment? A solid 7 to 8 years of no privacy, probably no dating, and if you were caught outside with someone of the opposite gender, you’d be royally screwed over.

“You’re going to get drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re not even legal to drink, and it sucks, honestly.”

“Pfft,” Rolling your eyes, you collect the shot of Soju from one of the older crew members. “I’ll take like five shots. I’ll be fine.”

Minho glares at his captain, thoughtlessly pushing the shot across the smooth surface of the table to you. 

“You know she’s like, 16 right?”

“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to let her try some. Besides, we all did a great job this past year. I think we all deserve a little break.”

Minho huffs, the air pushing his fringe upwards for a split second. He watches you down the shot, the burning alcohol forcing a look of slight disgust on your face. 

“Told you you wouldn’t like it.”

“Ugh,” Sticking your tongue out, you reach for your glass of water and take a huge gulp. “I’ll get used to it.”

Nah.

“My God, why are you so heavy?” Minho grunts, struggling to keep your arm over his shoulders. He looks behind him, busking in some slight satisfaction when he had managed to get the captain completely wasted by playing some stupid game with him, the kind that he would never win. The other vice-captain and another crew member were channeling all that effort into keeping the big-sized boy on his feet. You remember hearing Minho’s hearty (or evil) laughter when the captain plops to the floor, completely blacking out. 

“Okay, he’s your responsibility now!” He yells at the top of his lungs, dragging you towards the nearest bus stop in his knowledge.

“Go fuck yourself, Minho! Have some mercy next time, would you?!” HIs co-vice captain shouts back.

“I’ll think about it!” Minho laughs, trying really hard not to drop you as he waves back. 

“Bye, see you soon!”

Minho returns his attention to you, half your body already leaning a good ninety degrees towards the floor. 

“Free bows for the floor, huh?” He grunts as he gives up on holding just one of your arms. Afraid that he was going to dislocate something, he pulls you onto his back. Your head is pressed into his shoulder when he turns round the corner, eyes looking up to gauge the distance to the bus stop. “Oi.”

“Hmm?” Your head of messy hair perks up from his shoulder, your eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open. 

“Are you going for it? The audition I mean.”

You groan, throwing your head back into his shoulder. Tightening your arms around his collar, you grit your teeth and swallow the burning sensation of alcohol in your throat. 

“I don’t think I want to think about that now. I have school to worry about.”

“You’ll just be put into SOPA.”

“What about university?”

“That’s like 3 years away for you. And studying can wait if you’re chasing your dream,” A pause as he sets you down at the bus stop, grabbing your bag and searching for your wallet to take out your bus card. “Of course, only if you want it.”

Your head hangs low, the Soju zipping through your blood like hamsters do in their tunnels. Minho turns, spotting the bus nearing.

“Do me a favour and swallow your vomit if you need to, don’t make a mess in the bus.”

[O C T O B E R 2 0 1 7]

Do you know the feeling of your lungs collapsing in on themselves when you can’t breathe? When your heart is palpitating so fast, it feels like it’s stopped? 

“I don’t know why you guys are treating it like it’s a huge thing-- I might not even make it.”

“Shut the fuck up, would you? You signed up for it, shouldn’t you put your 100% and go as far as you can?”

The words can’t find their way out of your mouth. Minho was sitting in his sofa, petting Soon-ie, with a huge duffel bag at his feet. You were sitting in Minho’s living room, with Doongie curled up in your lap and the dance captain from BTS’ Fire and Not Today performance dance unit about to swing a fist in Minho’s face. 

An awkward silence fell upon the three of you, knowing that this could be the start of a friendship with a changed dynamic. You were one foot into BigHit because you’ve passed the first audition, Minho was going on JYP’s Stray Kids survival show and your dance-captain was being scouted into Yuehua’s waters.

The morning sun gushes down onto your faces when Minho’s father rushes to get the car ready, leaving the three of you at the entrance of the carpark. Your dance captain had an audition appointment with Yuehua soon, so he pulls Minho into a tight hug and provides him a harsh pat on the back.

“Make us proud.”

Minho doesn’t respond, only nodding subtly before sending him off. 

But you? You are reluctant to even look at him. If he wins that show, he’d be gone for more days and months than you can count. No longer would he spend his Christmases and New Years with you, but with his group members. His cats wouldn’t be meowing for his attention, because he’s not at home anymore.

What’s worse, if you get through BigHit’s third audition, you’ll be thrown into a girl group. 

And Godforsake a girl group member being seen with a boy group member, right?

“You could be a little more enthusiastic, y’know.”

“How can I be enthusiastic when I’m watching you strut your ass off into unchartered territory?”

Minho smiles, his bunny teeth unafraid to expose themselves. You can see his father’s car coming out, the ache in your heart getting harder and harder to ignore. 

“I’ll come back to find you, or maybe BigHit, I don’t know,” Minho gently pulls you into a hug, careful to keep his hands on your upper back and shoulders. “But I will always come back to you.”

[zims-left-shoe]

Agent Mothman (Dib x Male Reader)

Like most of my other fics, characters are aged up to high school. Plus, a friendly reminder that my request box is open!!

The silence was overwhelming. The pressure of everyone's collective held breath was almost palpable, your chest reactively tightening for no good reason. As you looked around you, eyes were wide, jaws were set and clenched in preparation to cringe. The only two who stuck out from the crowd were Zim and Dib, when did they not? Zim looked lost in thought, mind seemingly several thousand galaxies away, hands folded together neatly in front of his face, his chin resting on them. Dib, on the other hand, appeared to be over the whole ordeal. His posture was slouched as he stared ahead at the board through half-lidded eyes. As the quiet persisted, an anxious energy settled over your classmates (besides the two previously mentioned, of course). Eyes twitched, fingernails scraped the tables, feet began to tap restlessly on the floor.

"Y/n." The teacher finally spoke, bringing the whole class to sigh in relief, the building pressure suddenly released all at once. Many students leaned back in their chairs, high fiving each other. "Y/n, you will be partnered with Dib." You shrugged your shoulders as many looked to you in pity, some even whispering their sympathies. You had never aligned yourself with any group in particular throughout your school year. Granted, you were only a few months in, but you had switched schools so much you had learned to play the field. You avoided Dib considering his stigma, enabling you to be tolerated by the majority, however you were never mean to him. In fact, you rather liked him. You only chose to silently observe him rather than act upon your curiosity. 

"But wait, who's going to be paired with Zim?" You heard a student groan, everyone's breath being held once more. You let your gaze drift over to your partner. He seemed relieved, a slight smile settling on his lips. This was probably the best case scenario for everyone. No one else had to work with Dib, and you were the only one who never picked on him for being just a bit different. 

Once your teacher had finished reading names, you were all asked to sit with your partners. Without an ounce of reluctance, you sauntered over to Dib's otherwise empty table, taking one of the many available seats surrounding him. You needed to figure out a plan quickly, considering you only had one night to do the project. The project wasn't super taxing, in fact it seemed almost like busy work that would promote socialization at the same time, but it wasn't like your time frame was ideal. 

"Dib, right?" You held up your hand in a slight wave. "I don't think I've officially introduced myself. I'm Y/n."

"I know. The new kid who has no real friends yet is somehow still deemed acceptable by the popular kids? An anomaly for sure." Red painted his face, his eyes widening as he realized how his words may have came off as. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude. Or creepy. You know what? I'll just stop talking." An awkward chuckle escaped your lips as his eyes fell to his sneakers. After a slight pause, Dib spoke again, his tone much more reserved than before. "I can just do the whole project and you can put your name on it if you want. It's not that hard." He was giving you an out, not wanting to piss you off. Reaching an arm out, you slugged his shoulder lightly.

"Nah, come on. I don't roll that way. Besides, I want to hang out with you a little."

"You...want to hang out...with me?" Dib pointed a finger to himself, eyes wide behind his large glasses. An incredulous expression was etched into every single feature of his face, as if he couldn't believe those words left your mouth. 

"Yeah." After that syllable, the bell rang, dismissing you from school. You stood up, gathering your things. "Anyway, I'll be at your place after dinner. Just text me your address or whatever." You quickly scribbled your digits down on a scrap piece of paper that was laying around, passing it to him. "See ya!" You dashed away, sneaking one last glance back to see Dib still sitting in his chair, as still as a statue, not believing that this was even happening. 

Your stomach felt as if it was full of butterflies, and you couldn't shake the grin that had spread across your face as you began your walk home. 

God...he was even cuter than I thought... You were embarrassed by your own thoughts, pinching yourself on the arm. Truth was, you may or may not have been stalking him a little. He lived in your neighborhood, and you just couldn't help it. You had always been a hopeless romantic of sorts, and all it took was one look at him in class giving a presentation on the gremlin in his backyard and you were in love. You didn't even need his address, you knew where he lived, but you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, so you asked for it anyway. Plus, it was a way to sneak him your number. And it wasn't as if you were actively trying to find out where he lived. It was pretty much impossible to ignore him and Zim screaming at each other as they ran back and forth between their houses all day. 

"This is going to be a long night." You sighed out, foot striking out to kick a rock, the satisfying skittering sounds it made calming your nerves a small amount. 

-

You drew in a deep breath as you brought your fist to the door, rapping on it a few times. Rocking back on your heels, you clutched your notebook and other supplies tightly to your chest, internally cringing at yourself. Everyone at school thought you were incredibly cool, but on the inside, you were just a lovesick gay who was overflowing with big dumb energy. The door swung open, bringing you to jump and be pulled from your motivational speech that was being given inside your head. 

"Come on in. I'm surprised you showed up." Dib stepped aside to let you in, gesturing past the living room to the kitchen where a purple-haired girl sat at a table, picking at the remaining food on her plate. A floating monitor hovered near the table as well. "We're just finishing dinner, but you can follow me if you want." Nodding, you padded behind the social outcast wordlessly, taking a seat next to him at the table. "Gaz, this is Y/n, my partner for my project. Y/n, this is my sister Gaz."

"Hey." You waved to the girl. Her expression remained squinty as she continued to pick at her food, eyes dancing between her plate and a Game Slave which was charging on the counter. 

"Whatever." She grumbled, never even directly acknowledging your existence once. You began to wonder if Dib was actually the most normal out of his entire family, which was saying something. Dib awkwardly cleared his throat as he pointed to the floating monitor, which displayed a man in a lab coat and goggles furiously working on something. 

"Oh, and this is my dad. He's at work right now, like usual. When he can't be with us for dinner, he either videocalls us from his lab or plays a pre-recorded video reminding us of chores and dinner instructions." Despite how sad the things he had just said sounded, not an ounce of bitterness was up for display on his face. Instead, his eyes shone with pride, happy to have a dad who was making a difference in the world, even if he could never really be a conventional father. "Anyway, just let me clean up and then we can get to work." Dib stood up, bringing his own plate over to the sink and running it under water, placing it in in its respective place in the dishwasher afterwards. Waving for you to follow him, he led you down the hall to a room that was clearly his. The door was covered in posters and stickers of aliens and other supernatural creatures, a good sized "Keep Out" sign the centerpiece. You wondered what would be inside, becoming excited. You figured you were the first person besides his own family to be seeing his room. He twisted the knob, casually pushing the door open, allowing you to step inside. 

"Wow..." You trailed off as you glanced around. There was so much to look at. Your eyes darted from one thing to the next, barely able to take it all in. There were several computer monitors surrounding a desk that was littered in papers and catalogues for supernatural hunting items, a few prototypes of possibly his dad's inventions scattered there as well. His room was lined with posters of aliens and other entities, an important looking briefcase thrown haphazardly onto his bed. The one thing that held your gaze the longest was a ginormous cork board. Several photos, drawings, diagrams, and hurried scribbles of notes were tacked up there, filling it to the max. Each paper was connected with color coded strings, things circled in colored pen seemingly at random, although you knew better. It was the definition of organized chaos. In large, bold, red letters, one word was scrawled on a paper at the top of the board: ZIM.

"I'm sorry, I tried to clean it as best I could. It's still kind of a mess." Dib hurriedly stacked papers together on his desk, trying to make it look presentable. 

"It's fine, don't worry about it. You should see my room. Half of my shit isn't even out of boxes yet, and we moved in months ago." You laughed, sitting down on his floor. "So, alien invasion, huh? Isn't Zim that kid with the skin condition?" You asked, gesturing to his cork board. His shoulders tensed as he unplugged his computer and brought it down to the ground, taking a seat beside you.

"Could we just get to work? Please?" He seemed to want to sweep that subject under the rug, and you decided that you would let him.

"Okay...so anyway, this research poster. You got a topic in mind?" Your prompt drew him out of his unsociable shell, albeit hesitantly. 

"Personally, I was thinking Area 51, but if you wanted to do something else..." He genuinely appeared to not want to upset you, despite usually not caring about how he came off to others. 

"That sounds great, Dib. Interesting too. You think they're really hiding aliens there?" Laying down on your stomach, you rested your face in the palms of your hands, gearing up for a long talk. A smile crept onto your face as immediately his eyes lit up.

"I'm glad you asked."

-

"I think we have the essentials. Now we just need to get them onto the poster, which is probably the most time consuming part." Dib stretched his arms towards the ceiling while you yawned and cracked your back. You didn't know how long you had been sitting on the floor for, but a glance to the clock by his bed told you it was 8:01 pm. The two of you had spent the last couple of hours researching, organizing notes, and mainly just talking about yourselves. You had no idea why everyone constantly was ragging on him. You found him to be incredibly interesting and entertaining, hanging onto every single word he spoke. You weren't really sure if you believed in all of these supernatural creatures, but you also didn't think that they couldn't exist. 

"I think so too. You ready to start on the poster now?" Reaching out, you gathered the posterboard and construction paper Dib had brought in from his garage together.

"Yeah, in a minute. I have to use the bathroom and then see what Gaz is up to, I'll be back in a few." You hummed a response, Dib standing up and exiting, closing the door softly behind him. Deciding to take a closer look at the Zim conspiracy board, you pushed yourself to your feet, leaning close to try and decipher the grainy images. One in particular caught your eye. It wasn't in color, and everything seemed fairly blurry. Zim, or what was supposedly Zim, was hunched over something that looked to be a robot. Except, as you looked even closer, Zim seemed to have these buggish eyes and long, skinny antennae in place of his hair. Rubbing your eyes, you flopped down onto Dib's bed.

"God, I must be seeing things." You had managed to convince yourself that you had been staring at computer screens and papers for far too long, and that your eyes were playing tricks on you, showing you what Dib wanted you to see. Closing your eyes for a minute, the rise and fall of your chest turned slow and steady, and you could feel your grip on reality loosening. 

A ringtone of sorts snapped you back from your almost-doze, and at first you thought it was your phone, but after waking up a bit more, you realized it was coming from one of Dib's monitors. It appeared he was getting a call. The monitor showed nothing besides a logo of some sort of eye, as well as an option to accept the call or decline. Filled with curiosity, your feet took you to his desk where his monitor sat. You barely felt in control of your body as your finger swiped at the screen in the direction to accept the call.

"Agent Mothman-" The voice coming through the monitor was distorted, but you got the impression that it was on purpose. The image displayed was a dark silhouette of what seemed to be a man. "You're not Mothman."

"You mean that cryptid from West Virginia? No. I'm not." You took a seat in Dib's desk chair, which was very comfy. You assumed he spent a lot of time in it when he wasn't hanging out with Zim. 

"Who are you and what do you know?" The voice was menacing, and you vaguely wondered if Dib was involved in something more serious than you thought. Quirking an eyebrow, you tried to not let any miniscule amount of fear you were feeling show.

"I'm, we'll just say Agent, uh...Nessie." Feeling uncreative, your mind drifted to the Loch Ness Monster. 

"You're not Nessie either." 

"You got one of those too? Ugh, fine. What about Agent Chupacabra?"

"Well, no, but...you're not any agent we know of."

"But I could be! Agent Chupacabra reporting for duty!" You brought your hand up to your head stiffly in a mock salute.

"But you're not a member of the Swollen Eyeball! What are you doing on Mothman's computer?" 

"The Swollen what now?" You were smiling stupidly, only because you couldn't really grasp what the current situation was. 

"Hey, sorry, Gaz decided to hound me over drinking the last soda, so I took a little longer than I thought-" Dib opened the door to reveal you sitting in his desk chair, trying to look all spooky for the guy in the monitor. You thought he'd laugh at your stupidity, but he was not in the least bit amused. "OH MY GOD AGENT DARK BOOTY!" Slamming his room door, he darted over to where you were sitting, almost tripping and falling on his face. He made a strangled noise as he noticed the disappointed expression that rested on the silhouette's face.

"Who is your little friend, Agent Mothman?" The distorted voice was cold, and you could feel Dib almost shrink next to you.

"Listen, I can explain-"

"I thought we stressed secrecy, and the fact that you are not allowed to have outsiders sit in on our important meetings."

"Meeting?" All of a sudden, several of the other monitors sparked to life, various other silhouettes coming into view. Just in one glance, you could see that Dib wanted nothing more than to fade away into a cloud of space dust in that moment. You stayed silent, knowing that Dib was in some serious trouble because of you.

"We had a meeting at 8:30 pm sharp, Mothman. You knew this. And you had a friend over?" Dib's face, already pale, turned even more so. Any lighter, and you thought for sure he'd become a ghost on the spot. 

"I am so sorry, I had a school project, and he's my partner, I lost track of time." He looked absolutely helpless, and without a word, you stood up and gathered the poster supplies. Snapping back to his senses, he turned to you and began shoving you out of his room and herding you to the front door.

"Dib, I-"

"You really need to go!" There were no other words said between the two of you as he quite literally slammed the door in your face. A sigh slipped past your lips as you clutched your project items in your arms, dragging your feet across the pavement on your walk home. You lazily stumbled through your front door, mumbling a greeting to your parent(s) as you headed to your room, gearing yourself up to finish the project before morning. 

-

"Thank you to Y/n and Dib for their, erm, informative...presentation on Area 51. That was your last one, so enjoy your last five or so minutes of class." Your teacher went back to their desk as you and Dib retreated to your own table. You hadn't talked much since the incident last night, and quite frankly, you were tired from spending hours of your night creating the visual portion of your project. Dib's lips were tightly pressed together in a thin line, and you guessed there was something he wanted to get off his chest. 

"Look, Dib. If there's something you want to say to me, just do it. I'm sorry for answering your call, that was not a good move on my part, and I also apologize for getting you in trouble with your, uh...society." Running a hand through his dark hair, Dib shook his head.

"No, that was my bad. I forgot I had a meeting. I'm also really sorry for kicking you out and then forcing you to finish the project on your own." Your expression softened, unable to resist forgiving him.

"Yeah, that was kind of a dick move." You elbowed him jokingly, hoping he would loosen up now that bygones were bygones.

"No, seriously. How can I make it up to you?" He looked as if he wouldn't be taking no for an answer. He had gotten a taste of what having someone who genuinely enjoyed being around him was like, and he wasn't willing to let that go. A sly grin tugged at your lips, and almost immediately an idea came to mind.

"Consider yourself forgiven if you take me ghost hunting, or whatever it is you do." His shoulders tensed, but relaxed when he realized you weren't making fun of him. 

"Well, you're in luck. I just received a case file investigation last night on a bigfoot lead. I'll pick you up at eight, if that works?" His words were cautious, almost as if he still believed you were phishing.

"It's a date!" You cheered happily, already excited about getting to spend more time with him. A faint blush dusted his cheeks at your wordage.

"Of-Of course." He stammered out, grateful for the bell that rang not even a second after. 

"See you tonight, Dib!" You waved as you made your way home, wanting eight to come as fast as possible.

"He knows the project is over, right?" Torque Smacky raised an eyebrow, questioning Dib and wondering why someone as cool as you would be hanging around with a guy like Dib by choice. 

-

The doorbell rang, and you sprang up from where you sat on the couch, overjoyed to head out. Practically throwing open the door revealed Dib in all of his trench coat glory, albeit a bit nervous looking and sweaty. 

"Alright Mr. Mothman, where are we going?" You grabbed onto his arm, eventually linking it with your own. He cringed at the nickname, but resisted nothing else. 

"To the park. Apparently, some woman saw bigfoot there the other night. Also, fun fact, I saw bigfoot in my garage one time. He was using the belt sander." Your eyes widened, and you immediately realized why everyone called him crazy. You took it upon yourself to believe him. He obviously believed in himself, so why shouldn't you?

"Interesting. You see any other spooks in your time here?" He shrugged as you walked.

"I mean, I think a few ghosts and, well, aliens of course, but we've been over that. Also, I have vague memories of being abducted by aliens as a kid. I think they were trying to experiment on me to create some sort of genius super baby or something." You couldn't help the laughter that tumbled from your mouth. It wasn't necessarily laughing at him, more so that you weren't sure how else to respond. You didn't want to put him down, but at the same time, his story was very out there. And although you weren't 100% on board with the whole supernatural thing, you believed in him and his words. If that was his truth, you would stand by it. "You ever see anything supernatural?" You pointed a finger to yourself, as if to ask, 'me?'. 

"Well, I mean...I did live in West Virginia for a while when I was younger...a lot younger. And then we moved around a lot." Your eyes instinctively narrowed as you tried to recall those times with you and your neighborhood friends. "And, you know, Mothman was like the local legend. He's basically a celebrity down there."

"No way! Did you actually, like, see him?" If you didn't already have it, you sure had his full attention now. 

"No. I believed in him for a while, but we never saw him, and as I got older and distanced myself from there, I just kind of figured it was bullshit. My friends and I, we would go out at night trying to hunt for him with flashlights and stuff. Sometimes we'd bring lamps onto the porch and plug them in, building little 'Welcome, Mothman' forts to sleep in." You chuckled, remembering how much you had believed in all the spookies and specters as a child. 

"That's adorable." Dib's lips were parted in a smile as he continued to lead you deeper into the park. You weren't sure when you had actually gotten there, but you weren't really paying much attention.

"Well, maybe we could do that together some time. I know Mothman isn't really big in this part of the country, but who knows. Maybe he'll come." Softly bumping Dib in the side, you were pleased to see his smile only grow. 

"I'd like that." The nice moment was interrupted by rustling of the trees, and Dib turned on his flashlight, pointing it to the treetops. "There!"

"I thought bigfoot was more on the ground!" You called as you raced after him. You both came to a grinding halt, your feet skidding in the grass to try and avoid ramming straight into Dib's back. The boy you were with aggressively pointed his flashlight into the tree, resulting in a loud hiss from whatever was up there. "Maybe it's just a cat, Dib!" You tried to pull him away, not really liking how riled up he was at the moment.

"Zim! What are you doing here?! What evil things are you planning?" 

"Zim?" You looked upwards, following the beam of the flashlight. Sure enough, there was a green body hunched in a tree branch, a robot of some sort next to him. 

"None of your business, Dib-stink!" Zim spat, turning to face your friend. It was then you got a good look at his face. It wasn't the slightly abnormal one you were used to seeing every day. His eyes were red and buglike, sleek, black antennae sprouting from his head. 

"Holy shit, Dib. You're not crazy." You flicked your flashlight on as well, aiming it at who you thought was your classmate. "He really is an alien!" A strangled cry came from the alien sitting atop the tree branch.

"GIR! Do something!"

"Yes, master!" The once cheerful-looking robot suddenly turned much more serious, dropping down from the branch to where the two of you were standing. You yelped, unsure of what this thing was capable of.

"Relax, his robot is pretty much usele-" Dib began, but his sentence came to an abrupt end when several missals and other weapons emerged from his head. 

"How do you like GIR's new adjustments, Dib? I finally got his behavioral chip fixed to where he's responsive, but not too serious." Zim smirked, and with the point of one of his clawed fingers, his robot was on the two of you. 

Simultaneously, both of you let out a scream, reaching desperately for each other's hands as you ran for your lives back to Dib's place. Your feet pounded the pavement, lungs feeling as if someone was raking knives down your throat and organs, yet despite all that, you both refused to look back. Only when you were on his porch did you feel comfortable sneaking a glace behind you, only to find an empty street lit up by streetlights. Breathing heavily, the two of you leaned on each other for support. Dib looked very worse for wear. He didn't seem to be too athletically inclined. 

"I think...we lost him..." You spoke between gasps for air, grinning all the while. He nodded vigorously, still wheezing. After the two of you had regained your breath, you both managed to catch each other's gaze. You felt every portion of your brain that was in charge of thinking shut down as you leaned in closer to him. You were barely even aware of what you were doing as you pressed your lips to his. His eyes looked as if they were about to burst from his skull, but after a moment, they eased shut as he relaxed into the kiss. You pulled away, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, almost as if your face was on fire. Your stomach was tied in too many knots to even look at Dib, but if you had, you would have seen that he wasn't fairing much better. In fact, he was probably in worse condition. "Thanks for the night of fun, Agent Mothman."

"Uh-huh." He mumbled out, and his brain looked miles away. You decided just to go home before you did or said anything else that could be classified as stupid. As you power-walked away, Dib's hand found its way to his lips, where the feeling and warmth of your own still lingered.

[bxllafanficc]

My Dear Apprentice - Anakin!Skywalker x fem!reader - Chapter 5. PART ONE!

Anakin's pov

*One week later*

"And you're sure you can handle this?"

The obnoxious girl walking in front of me turns her head backwards to meet my question with a smile.

"Well of course! What, you're worried about my safety, huh?"

So optimistic... Especially considering this is her first task. It's not a complicated one, at least that's what I'm guessing since the council directly went to her and asked if she felt ready, with my guidance, of course. And I guess her excitement has to do with the fact that it's her first day outside the temple this week ever since we started her training.

   And sure, she's gained knowledge since her first day but it's not to remarkable lengths. Besides, she still continues to argue about the staff being too unbalanced at the 'hilt'. And without doubt, it is. But that should not be a functional error for a Jedi, considering that you can't always know what kind of tools you'll find at hand.

Since I don't deem her fit for a lightsaber, while on our way to this task, we went into a rather... sketchy shop to buy her a weapon. The ones catching her attention were to my surprise, two short bladed daggers with a serrated edge. When we entered the shop, a simple sword came to mind for her to use, plus that she would get to practice more with a balanced blade as well. Though, the weird light in her eyes were almost giving off actual sparkles and with that said, I bought them for her.

Thus, simple blades of steel would never make any difference in a fight against someone using a lightsaber. But considering we're out to hunt down a smuggler dealing with unauthorized drugs, spotted in a mall on Coruscant's center parts, coming cross an obstacle wielding one is highly unlikely.

Limited information were given to us other than we were to watch out for someone wearing a green seal of a crooked lizard claw. It's the company's signature sign used to help buyers identify their seller, and in our case, our target. Sure, it's a vague task and not very complicated but it fits (y/n) and her current skill level. Besides, this drug called Pixie dust is known for causing the user to behave extremely lustful and even violent if provoked. So it should be a relief to get that behavior off the mall since it's causing bothersome scenes and fights repeatedly. And what's worth mentioning is that the same seal has been spotted at different factory chains all around the galaxy dealing with unauthorized weaponry and human trafficking. Therefore, arresting one of them and interrogating them would lead us to new information about this league, for later use.

(Y/n) slows down her pace and join my side, one hand resting on her hip and the other one twirling one of the daggers between her thumb and index finger.

"What if I am? Would that be so strange? You're my responsibility, after all. Besides, I highly suggest you putting that thing back where it can't be seen before entering the mall. The citizens here will feel unsafe if they see you flailing it carelessly like that."

She returns it to her belt with a nod and runs a hand through her (h/c) locks, strands smooth as silk glowing in the bright afternoon sun. The sun looks so radiant on her skin, a phenomenon I have not seen, or at least noticed on anyone before. I have never bothered to look for details like that regarding anyone, but it was almost impossible not to see on (y/n).

"It's not strange. I just don't hear you saying nice things to me very often. It's a pleasant change for once."

Nice things, huh? I don't think I have that much nice to say about you, my dear.

I chuckle, which causes her to look at me with searching eyes and a tilted chin. Her bottom lip twists slightly before she speaks up.

"What's funny?"

I shake my head and flash her a smile as I reach up to pat her shoulder.

"Nothing. I just find you kind of adorable when you're not super loud and annoying."

The streets are crowded with all kinds of people as always. Stressed moms and dads carrying their children, working men and women in a hurry, to senior married couples showing affection in public. At every shop, there's always an employee promoting their agency while inviting costumers into their outlet. Citizens of all kinds of species from all around the galaxy eating at the outside service of the food chains and stressed waiters hurrying to serve their guests food and drinks.

The remarkable tower aligned with several buildings attached to another with glass windows all over is right ahead of us. I speed up my pace and go ahead to open up one of the entry doors for my padawan.

She stares me blank in the eyes and walks through with quick steps. Inside there's citizens filling up the spaces while doing things like chatting in groups, shopping groceries or buying drinks at the bar. (Y/n) stops a few shops in and turns around to look at me.

"If there's one thing I'm not, then that's adorable. Intimidating, maybe. Adorable.." she snorts and crosses her arms.

"Never."

"Sure , what about sweet and cuddly then?" I tease and reach out a hand to pinch her cheek.

She swats away my hand and points a tense, angry finger at me. The people around us doesn't seem to notice our quarrel and I think that's just perfect. We've fooled around enough. It's time to actually concentrate on the task.

"I'll cut you." She whispers and blares her teeth. I raise a sloppy hand and shakes it slightly as I continue walking.

"Yeah, yeah. Do that later. We have a task to complete."

I turn my gaze just in time to watch her roll her eyes at me with an exaggerated head turn.

Though I should have looked where I was going, cause neither were the woman hurrying with a bag of groceries in front of me.

*thud*

The elderly woman bumps into me with such force that it causes both of us to tumble over and fall to the floor. A lot of heads turn in curiosity and I cuss silently at the unwanted attention.

"Excuse my acquaintance, miss! Let me help you up..." (y/n) exclaims and quickly moves to kneel down beside the woman and hold a firm, steady grip on her shoulders.

So she helps a random woman rather than helping her master? Ridiculous...

She lifts the lady back up on her feet and picks up some fruits that had fallen out of her bag. The lady looks at her and starts smiling.

"(Y/n)! How good it is too see you again. I was just shopping some refreshments for Mister (s/n), you know how your father gets when he ends a meeting without his favorite meal!"

Mister (s/n)? Who's this woman and why isn't her father shopping his own groceries? It can't be (Y/n)'s mother since the lady calls him by mister, right?

(Y/n) freezes and glances at me, lips slightly parted in some kind of surprise.

Interesting. Why did that startle her all of a sudden... and why is she looking for my reaction?

"Yeah, I know that..."

"Well well, time is running and so should I. I gotta go but it was nice meeting you. Take care, dear!"

I grunt loudly and get back up with a little help from a bench right beside me, using it as mainstay. (Y/n) looks after the old lady as she stumbles away through the shops and out through the entrance. I position myself in front of my apprentice and take a firm grip around her arm, tugging her along and further into the mall.

"Who was that? You seemed oddly quiet and acted pretty suspicious when she mentioned your father, you know."

She yanks her arm away, holding it close to her other hand as she takes a few steps to the side to add walking distance.

"That, was my father's maid. And the reason I acted weird is because my father is Hiram (s/n). I'm sure you've met him already." She exclaims and walks ahead and into one of the shops selling what appears to be magic potions and supplements alike.

Wait.

Senator Hiram (s/n)! That's why her surname seemed familiar...

That man is a total asshole, And more importantly, he absolutely despise the Jedi code.

"Your father is a Senator, not to mention that he hate the Jedi and what we we stand for; And you choose to defy him by turning to the Jedi temple shape your life according to the Jedi code?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She sighs and puts a hand to her forehead.

"Maybe I could tell you some other time. But right now we have other things to focus on."

I nod.

"I'll take the right section of the shops, you go with the left. We'll search through all of them eventually and meet up at 'The rumbling horse''s bar at the end of the hall." I say and head to the section opposite of (y/n).

Enough time wasted.

*time skip*

...

"(Y/n)! Over here! Heeey giirllll, you here for a drink? And you brought a hottie with you too!

...WAIT, IS THAT ANAKIN SKYWALKER?"

Excuse me? What?

Two drunk girls are standing by the bartenders bench, one drink in each hand. The one shouting is tall and red haired while the second one is even shorter than (y/n).

How is that possible?

They wave their arms and the red haired one attempts to wolf-whistle but ends up spitting and laughing instead.

(Y/n) and I had headed to The rumbling horse after failed attempts at finding anyone with the green seal. We asked around with caution as well, leading us to the crowded bar. Most of all, we wanted to question the owner if any strange people had visited the bar repeated times. But it apparently looked like it wasn't gonna be that easy.

"Shush, Deborah! You're causing a scene!" (Y/n) whisper aggressively while flailing a hand furiously.

She then groan and hurries to clasp a hand over the laughing girls mouth. The shorter girl now beside (y/n) giggles and tries to twirl a strand of (y/n)'s hair, to which (y/n) grabs her arms and twists it in her grip with a growl. The shorter girl whine and shouts.

"Ow, (y/n)! Let me go!"

Sigh.

"I assume these are the friends you've been cussing about?"

Deborah turns her gaze that was previously locked onto (y/n), to focus onto mine... Well, I wouldn't say focusing. More like trying to. Seems like the alcohol has gotten to her way worse than her shorter friend.

   Deborah's eyes are TRYING to focus onto mine but instead they keep twitching and turning like her vision is spinning.

   I've seen that sign one too many times and would much rather skip it today.

"Hells yeah we are! And you're one lucky guy to meet us!" Deborah yells and ends up laughing again, snorting in the process.

"(Y/n), we can't stay here if they're going to fool around like that." I grunt and glare at the two girls while scanning through the closest people standing beside us.

So far no green seal, just some man with a leather jacket full of different patches and stickers. I exhale heavily and turn back my attention to (y/n) just in time to see her friends stumbling their way to me, their feet barely carrying their running.

Instinctively I move away, letting my feet carry me to the side from where I previously stood. I arch my back and position myself in a low key battle stance, ready for a heavy impact if the two of them tries another attempt at whatever they were trying.

The girls's piercing laughter stops as they run past me and stop. Confused eyes stare back at me in shock and I prepare for another attack.

Then (y/n)'s, now comforting voice, calls out to me and I gaze at her with widened eyes.

'What are you doing?!' She mouths to me while moving her lips audibly. Her eyes then dart back and forth from my hand to my eyes and I look down in hesitation.

Oh. I see.

Apparently, while dodging the crazy girls, my hand had gone to the handle of my lightsaber by automacy. I had been close to ignite it and ruin our probably non existent cover.

"Oops...Sorry, (y/n)." I say with hesitation and laugh nervously at a glaring (y/n), visibly gritting her teeth through her plump.. soft looking lips... What am I doing? My brain must be affected by the strong scent of alcohol, as thick as a wall in here. Yeah, that's it. That's why.

Deborah and her yet unnamed friend regain their balance and head towards me a second time just as I'm about to sneak away to the other side of the bar, to which I immediately leap away and walk behind (y/n) with my back against the bar desk, leaning to grip her shoulders in a tight grip, using her as a shield.

   (Y/n) sigh and turn her head to look at me, her left hand clenching lightly into a fist.

"Do they scare you that much?"

"Don't blame me, they're drunk, loud and without care!" I answer in defense and duck my head instantly as the two girls position themselves in front of (y/n).

...

"Ay, sweetheart! Melisma! Did you find another man while I was gone?"

Come on, not another one.

The shorter girl, now known as Melisma, squeals excitedly and hugs the arm of a human guy in leather robe walking up behind her. His eyes are big and underlined with some kind of dark paint and the stubble on his chin and jaw reveals that he hasn't shaved for awhile.

He scoffs and waves at (y/n) and I, his hand combing through short and spiked hair put up in a read headband. He holds a large class of some blue sparkling liquid in his right hand and takes a big sip of it.

"And may I ask who it is that you've met today, Melisma?" (Y/n) asks and draw a tired hand above her eyes and leans it down her chin. I straighten my position and let go of her shoulders to relieve her of some tension.

"Oh (y/n), This is Jax! We met an hour ago and he's sooo funny! We've been chatting ever since he went to attend some guy in the corner and then you guys came! Isn't it a coincidence! You bring your hot Jedi boyfriend here and I find myself a good looking man the same day." Melisma stops talking and leans her cheek on in the palm of Jax's right hand that he previously used to tickle her neck.

"He, is NOT my boyfriend!" (Y/n) exclaims with raised and irritated voice, her cheeks tainted red already.

Jax's previously happy and relaxed smile seem to stiffen and he slowly retract his hand from the short girl's grasp. His eyes watch mine carefully but still with attempted happiness. He then scratches his chin and chuckle at the woman clinging to his arms.

That's when I see it. The green seal of a lizard claw. It's a ring on his left thumb and he's noticeably trying to hide it be turning the seal at the opposite direction while trying to act as normal as before.

(Y/n) glance at me and I nod back in response.

Great, she's noticed too.

I move out from my hideout behind (y/n) and take a step forward to greet Jax who now is inspecting me carefully.

"Pleasure to meet you, Jax. Have we met before? I swear that I've seen you somewhere but it escapes my memory! Now, would you like to follow me and discuss the matter outside of the bar where we can hear each other better?" I smile and cross my arms in front of my chest.

But Jax seems to know what's about to happen, cause without blinking, he yanks his glass forward and causes the blue liquid to spill in my face. At the same time I feel two hands shoving me backwards and hear running feet. (Y/n) swear loudly and calls out to me.

"I'll go get him." She then darts after the fleeing man and I'm left at the bar floor.

Whatever liquid he threw at me, it's working just the way he wanted.

I quickly help myself up and try to brush the burning sensation out of my eyes. After one failed attempt, I try to locate myself out of the door with a little help from the image of the room I previously made up.

   I hear grunts and shouting as I bump into a load of people on my way out, excusing myself with a tense hand above my aching eyes.

After a few seconds I regain my vision and head right, out of the exit doors of the mall.

To be honest, there's really just two paths they could've gone and I'm just choosing the exit because it's the closest way out on the streets.

I run outside and try to follow the track of shocked expressions by the passing peoples to guid me. A frightened man and an angry girl leaping through the streets and disturbing the slow paced citizens would surely be a sight enough for people to react to.

A few minutes later the vague sound of steel against steel catches my attention and I head to a smaller street where the sound came from. I then find (Y/n) and Jax in a blind alley, Jax clutching aggressively to a long bladed dagger of unknown sort and (Y/n) with her twin blades drawn out.

The alley is long and narrow which doesn't leave enough space for me to ignite my lightsaber... I don't have any other weapon on me either...

She must have chased him into this dead end which caused him to draw weapon as the only remaining solution left for him.

But maybe my help isn't needed. He's certainly not professional on wielding a dagger but not bad either, and (y/n) seem to be getting an idea of how to counter the dealer's attacks.

Her quick feet easily bring her to the places she wants and her quick reactions cause her to evade Jax's attempts.

Jax leap forward with a growl and attempts to cut low with intention of slashing her right hip, to which (y/n) block his attack, locking his blade shut with hers crossed against each other. She then raise her left leg and kick the man right in his abdomen. Once to make him stumble backwards to gain some space and twice to force him to twirl sideways, back now facing her.

Impressive. A flawed move, in it's own way but not if it's done right. And she remembered to enhance the gap between them. In a close battle with relatively short blades like these it's even more important to gain some distance and that's exactly what she's done.

Jax quickly spin around to face (y/n) once again and leaps forward to attack once again. (Y/n) separates her feet in a hunched forward battle stance and skid to the side as an attempt at regaining her lost advantage, but Jax puts his dagger back into his belt, stopping her getaway while taking a hostile grip around her left arm. Hands stubborn and confident, he hold her in a tight grip and puts himself into a tense stance. Her struggling following right after is useless, his grip doesn't change the slightest.

That's when it hits me, what he's intending to do. Panic wash over me like a tidal wave and the still glowing sun suddenly feels cruel and burning. One wrong turn and I could lose her, the Jedi order would lose her. But will she handle it on her own if I choose to stand by and watch?

Jax blare his yellow stained teeth at (y/n), suddenly and grabs her right wrist as well, forcing her own dagger so slash forward to the direction of her neck.

One blow and her fragile neck would...

I prepare to run at (Y/n)'s aid, hand hovering just above my lightsaber. But before I get the chance to do any of that, (y/n) growls and twists her arm in a bent angle, using her elbow to knock Jax's arm upwards and away from her neck.

Instead, the tip of the twin blade graces the right chin of (y/n) on it's way from her body and she lets out a hiss.

She yank her wrists out of the man's grasp, causing him to lose balance and take a few steps to regain it. Right after, she use her right elbow to whack him at the back of his head.

With reflexes quick as ever and fury tainting her eyes, she then leaps forward in a high cut, slash him in the left shoulder.

Jax roar out in pain and cradle his wound, spinning around to prepare another attack by the girl wounding him so badly.

That's when I decided that they've had enough fun for today.

I leap forward on quick feet and pull out the handle of my lightsaber. The sound of the blade igniting itself causes the man to snap his attention at the much more dangerous threat. His eyes widen in shock as the glowing blue light display at the thick walls like ocean waves and he squint his eyes in discomfort.

(Y/n) takes the man's temporary confusion as her cue and grab his shoulders in a steady hold.

Jax immediately try to spin around but falls short on his feet as she use her leg to thrust the shallow crook of the opposite side to his kneecaps outwards. The unprepared impact causes the man's knee to bend forward and his entire weight clash into the hard concrete.

   She then drops her twin blades to the side and yank the man's own dagger out of his fist, pulling his arms behind his back and putting a foot to his back.

Jax attempts to get up on his feet but the weight of (Y/n)'s entire body pressured onto her foot makes it an uneven fight and he goes limp, laying back onto the ground with a thud.

"Well, it looks like I'm not needed after all. I'm impressed, (y/n), I really am." I say with praising voice and pull back my turned off lightsaber into it's belt.

(Y/n) tilt her head upwards with a  proud grin, though she's squinting her right eye as a reaction to the sharp, stinging cut on her cheek.

---

Tagglist: @tomisbaeholland . PART TWO IS OUT ALREADY DUE TO TOO LONG OF A CHAPTER!

[pastelgrungewrecker]

Diecut Crooked

Hold your deck to your chest Faceless, nobody is your friend Make it, take it, they won't share

She was lanky and lean, the shirts never fit, the jeans fell short, the fads that promised her a welcoming from her peers let her down so often it became a pattern more predictable that multiplication tables.

Her hair was bright and wild, her freckles dark and dusted over her liberally, her eyes piercing and hawklike all once.

They called her Anchor Baby.

Dom saw her cry, once. All wild howls and dewdrop tears as her hair fell loose around her like a dying halo of fire and stuck to cheeks and lips and caught in her eyelashes. He comforted her the best he could- In his clothes that fit and his hair that sat just right. With his letterjacket and his backpack decorated in friendship keychains.

It helped, but it also didn’t.

Forge watched her rage once; watched her slam her foot against a soccerball and half deflate it as she sent it barrelling into the face of the goalie mocking her too-long legs and her razorblade elbows; An awkward gosling, a featherless pheonix rolling free of ash and eggshells.

It helped.... But it also didn’t.

As she grew, she swallowed down the fire she wanted to breath; she choked down barbed wire and noxious fumes and glared holes in the backs of heads and told the twins “Never trust a soul, never make anyone your everything- cause when they’re gone you’ll be NOTHING, nothing and NO ONE.”

They held her vitriol in their hands like baptismal water, and wondered if the poison that surely leaked from her eyes in place of tears was supposed to feel like seawater and thunderstorm breezes.

And she was called Anchor Baby; she was called A Ruse and she was accused of Guilt By Association when it was Drift’s arm she clung to as they walked through a crowd.

His eyes were always softly oblivious- years of learning to ignore the glares and sneers aimed at him translating to never seeing them aimed at the children he wanted nothing more than to do right by.

And she grew; lankier and more awkward in her angles. She cried in silence as her ankles always showed and hugged her knees in fitting rooms as shirts sagged on her wiry body.

She cut her hair, she didn’t cut her hair- it never made a difference.

Anchor Baby.

Ruse.

Entrapment.

Moneygrab.

“I don’t understand when she stopped talking to us.”, sighed Ratchet over a cup of coffee as Mimi cleared the table, “She was always such a little firestarter and then... suddenly.”

“It wasn’t sudden, but continue.”, said Mimi flatly.

Ratchet looked at her in surprise, Drift glanced up from his phone in curiousity.

“You did what Papaceptor did.”, said Mimosa simply, “You had a child with Drift and forgot that came with terms and conditions.”

“Mimosa!”, snapped Drift, “Don’t be rude.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid then, maybe?”, she answered back, her voice equally brisk and rough, “She’s TOLD you both what’s gone on, but between Ratchet’s assumption of Youth And All It’s Troubles and your Align Your Chakra CRAP you both just forgot that she’s a KID with a dad who kinda made some bad choices!”

“So has WHIRL.”

“WHIRL DIDN’T ANNIHILATE MY CLASSMATES’S PARENTS, DRIFT.”

Her voice rang hard in the kitchen, Perceptor dropping the plate he was cleaning and Brainstorm jumping nearly a foot from the floor as Mimi gave a glare she inherited more than developed.

“Drift, everyone in this room knows that you left all that behind but you have GOT to realize that Dani is going to school with the kids of the ones who remember a VERY DIFFERENT YOU.”

“And WHAT makes you think you can pin all this on me-”, snarled Deadlock’s old drawl.

“CAUSE I FUCKIN’ LIVED IT TOO, OLD MAN, TRY ME!”

Drift jerked back as Mimi answered him in a road salt clone of his hilltop gravel voice. Her teeth bared in a sneer, showing the slight peak of the canine and the narrowing of her eyes showing the tiny traits she had gleaned from him without him even being there.

“Mimosa. Cooldown. Now.”, said Whirl flatly from the doorway as he frowned with arms crossed over his chest.

She glanced to him, swallowing what, no doubt, was a challenge.

“Mimi, don’t make me walk you out.”

She set down the dishes in her hands a little harder than necessary before stalking out of the dining room. He watched her pass by, and sighed heavily.

“Drift, man, I love you; I love you as much as I love the rest of the sitcom we call a family but you REALLY need to have some self awareness- And I’m not talking about some spooky crystal shit, okay?”

Drift huffed.

“If we’re being honest, considering how often you practice that mindfulness shit you’re a pretty clueless motherfucker. And I get it! It’s easier to ignore all the shit that people throw at us!”, said Whirl, hands up in a placating gesture, “But you got KIDS now; and people are in equal amounts fucking cowards and also really goddamn scared of you.”

Drift looked away.

“But your kids? Aren’t scary, not yet.”

Drift looked back sharply, seeing the brief flicker of sadness in Whirl’s expression.

“Don’t you remember the hell we went through, enrolling Quickdraw in first grade? How they tried to put him in Isolated Study because they worried he’d be a problem case? Just because I was his DAD?”

Ratchet winced, and Drift gnawed his own thumbnail.

“And don’t even get me started on the shit Mimi got served as a young’n. And she didn’t have a whole family, just us dumbasses calling ourselves SpecOps.”

Whirl walked closer, reaching out and putting a hand on Drift’s shoulder.

“You’re a good man, a’right? But the world don’t know that yet. Maybe they’ll never believe it, who knows. But right now, you gotta consider the fact that people might be taking it out on DANI. And that maybe, just maybe, ignoring the shit people sling at you? Is doing more harm than good.”

Ratchet fideted with his mug, “I... I figured it was. Just kids being kids, teasing on the playground...”

“That’s how it starts.”, sighed Drift, getting up from his seat and feeling Whirl’s hand fall away, “But remember- Playground bullies grow into jackass adults if left unchecked. And then they multiply.”

He rubbed his face, “Being a parent is HARD. And the world doesn’t make it any EASIER.”

Whirl snorted, “Tell me about it- I have ANOTHER meeting with the Principal to explain that no, it’s still discrimination to tell my kid that they aren’t allowed to be unchaperoned on the way to the bathroom.”

“Primus, you’re kidding.”

“Nope, they straight up tried to tell me that Quickdraw was a risk because of his height and ‘parentage’.”, said Whirl flatly, “You’d think by now they’d realize if anyone’s gonna beat the shit out of someone, it’s Chrona.”

Drift couldn’t help the weak chuckle, before he stretched his back out, “...I’ll talk to Mimi later- I think that’s one of those issues that’s gonna take a helluva time to work out. But... I think Dani needs an ear that’ll really listen this time.”

The young girl in question was curled on her bed, door shut and lights off as she stared at nothing. She felt her tears roll down her face but pressed her lips tightly together- a thin line dotted in the signs of teeth worrying the once smooth skin.

A knock.

“Dani. It’s Poppa- I’m comin’ in, okay?”

Silence.

“... I know you’re cryin’.”, he whispered, his voice relaxing into his old drawl, “An’ I’m sorry you thought this was the only way to go.”

She closed her eyes as he entered her room, and closed the door behind him.

The bed shifted as he sat down.

“It’s never gonna stop, kiddo.”, he said gently, “I wish I could sit her and tell you it would, but it most likely won’t.”

“Poppa, do you know what an Anchor Baby is?”, she asked thickly.

“Yeah-... Aw, kiddo...”

She closed her eyes again and bit her lip. His face fell, he watched as she turned her face into her pillow and forced her narrow chest to not jerk from the sobs he could tell were building up.

“Babymine, don’t swallow it all down now.”, he said gently, carefully coaxing her to sit up, to move closer, to curl against him like when she was young and scared and he thought that telling her to turn the other cheek would keep her safe.

His hand moved over her hair, stroking it out of her face where it fell in waves.

“You aren’t an anchor baby, you’re none of that.”, he whispered into red locks like phoenix feathers, “No, no- you’re my little spitfire is what you are. And somehow you got Ratch thinkin’ you’re a Disney princess. Wish I could get him thinkin’ I was, maybe he’d stop bein’ a grouchy old fart.”

A sticky giggle.

“But no, no you aren’t some... plot. You’re my little firecracker, my alleykitten, the Oliver to my Company.”

She buried her face against Drift, feeling her eyes well up again as he pulled her into his lap after adjusting to sit crosslegged on her bed. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight as tight could be and he rocked her like when she was so very tiny; so very new.

She broke.

It was not angry tears, bitter and burning as they hissed down her cheeks.

It was not grieving tears, begging for answers no one willingly gave.

It was not tears made of loathing, of the self or otherwise.

He shooshed her softly, kissing the top of her head and bundling her in his embrace while her lanky gosling body twitched and jumped and jolted with every hiccuped sob unstuck from between her bony ribs.

“I wish I could tell you it’s like the movies, babymine, but it ain’t.”, he continued, “All I can tell you is it gets a little easier, it gets a little brighter, once you realize that no matter whatcha do- someone’s gonna hate you for it. No matter whatcha say, someone’s gonna pile my old sins on your back an’ I’m so so sorry.”

He kissed the top of her head again as she buried her face under his chin and bawled her sorrows out against his old scars- as pearls rolled down her cheeks and fell in diamond shards onto her clothes that didn’t quite fit and never really did.

“No matter what you do, no matter who you pretend to be- they’re gonna see what they wanna see. The only people that matter are the ones that see what you’re willing to give.”

He leaned back, just enough to look at her tear smeared face and wiped away the dewdrops on her freckled cheeks with a thumb, “You ain’t gotta be loved by the world to be beloved. Just the parts that matter t’you.”

She nodded, and buried her face against his chest and hiccuped softly, curling up like a baby bird finally back in the nest.

Mimosa fought back her smile, sitting outside the closed door with an ear against it a moment longer before silently getting to her feet and heading back to the dining room.

“Papaceptor, I’m gonna need to borrow the car this weekend. I think Dani’s gonna need new clothes.”

“I would hope so; she’s got such long legs, her jeans turn into highwaters in a week at best.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem soon.”

In Dani’s room, her eyes drifted in the haziness between awake and asleep as her ear pressed against Drift’s chest, listening to the voice of nightmares past weave dreams of softer futures to the tune of a one-time warrior’s heartbeat.

The spark that had been guttering under the loaded words of the ones standing on the outside flickered and flared, beginning to alight new and brighter than before.

[vanaera]

The First Dip

Synopsis | All of this is too new for Jungkook - realizing he’s in love with his bestfriend, trying his best to impress a lady, manning up to do the first move - everything is too new and he’s still clueless around these things but he still tries his best.

Genre | Fluff and a very small pinch of angst (football!jk + childhood friend!you)

Words | 3,286

A/N | Okay I can’t get football!jk out of my head so here I go - another installment of this drabble series!

Read more of football!jk drabbles in The Prince and His Rose

     There’s something wrong along the lines. Something aberrant and definitely odd that emphasizes itself in one giant "What the hell" no matter how many times Jungkook adjusts his reading glasses.

    Otor-nim Y/N: Hey can you check this out? What do you think? (8:46 P.M.)

     Yeah, right, Jungkook will always check it out. However the minute he glanced over the text block you sent on Messenger ten minutes ago, Jungkook still doesn’t know why he feels disturbed at the same time giddy-happy. He settles for disturbed. He’ll be forever on his toes when he’s around you.

“Your eyes that held stars, every swirl of the inky black that promised another galaxy waiting to be found.”

     Okay, sounds good but also weird. You have never delved into romantic poetries, as far as he knows, and this is definitely out of his comfort zone too. Jungkook scrolls down, losing himself in sentences you painted with love too surreal until his eyes drink the last words of your prose.

“You make me want to see you even in my dreams.”

“ You’re a world I will forever would want to be lost in.”

     Jungkook fixes his glasses that were slipping on his nose as he strokes your words in ink across the pages you will never know about. At least not yet, he thinks, licking his lips as he finishes the line with a dot and a quotation mark along with your name and today’s date. He smiles wide at the page now marked with another art of yours along with his own little illustration of star-filled eyes and a galaxy boy holding the heart of his muse.  He flips the pages to dwell on the few papers yet to be graced by words he wished was about you and him. You haven’t published anything yet in print but this black little notebook of his might be the first ever collection of your poems and prose. He chuckles, his chest rumbling with songs of the birds in his chest. Just before he could dwell again on the lines that had his heart swelling with affection, he hears a “ding!” that calls him back to his original purpose.

Otor-nim Y/N: What do you think of my drafts? (8:48 P.M.)

     Oh right, he’s supposed to give a feedback. He unknowingly grins, his fingers dancing along the keyboard.

Star Kook: It’s good! No need to edit anything, it doesn’t sound cringey. Just pure admiration and romance. (8:49 P.M.)

     Should he add more? There’s no harm asking right?

Star Kook: It looks like you’ve been eyeing a new inspiration lately huh? Who’s the lucky guy ;) (8:50 P.M.)

Otor-nim Y/N: Some eyecandy I’ve been staring at lately. I just imagined what having a handsome guy fawn over you felt like and I wrote that. There’s no harm daydreaming anyway and the fact that it didn’t sound like just me ‘daydreaming’ based on your feedback, I’m happy with it. Thanks Kookie! (8:50 P.M.)

     Jungkook freezes. Eyecandy? You just saw where? When?  You don’t spend a lot of time with guys other than him - wait. His forehead furrows as he grabs his phone to view his self camera. He doesn’t look that bad, right? Some people have told him he’s cute, so maybe it’s about him. Damn it, his cheeks are already reddening with the thought.

     But then again, you’re a wonderful girl yourself and you have a couple of people orbiting around you and your ideas. He may think of you as his only rose in his garden of you and him but maybe you can’t even see him - just a tiny bud that’s taking too long to bloom - in the fields of flowers you probably collect from everyone that have adored you. The red notification on the name of his med student friend drives him to click it and remember why he’s even trying at all.

Nurse Doc Jimin: Hey, just read your message yesterday about you being emo again on your “unrequited love.” As I have numerously told you before (and I won’t stop telling you this to your blockhead self), you won’t know unless you tell her. So for you to tell her, you don’t have to bombard her with unrestrained feelings. Just up your game and make her notice it little by little. You’ve been toeing the testing waters far too long; try to man up and take a fucking dip, man. (8:53 P.M.)

//

     It’s already one o’clock and he’s starving and you’re still stuck in class. Jungkook paces back and forth in front of the lecture hall, his bag strapped across his chest felt too heavy so he puts it on the chair he abandoned ten minutes ago. He doesn’t want to sit, feeling he will just get too jittery again, and so he sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He checks his watch - twelve forty-five - okay maybe, he’s just being really impatient, but still your Physics class is taking too long. Jimin already told him in annoyance he could just head out and buy something after he messaged him non-stop about waiting for you too long and that you’re still not done yet with gravitational forces and distances.

Nurse Doc Jimin: Well, you could just text her and tell her to meet you in that café (12:47 PM)

     Jungkook snickers; he still cares for his sappy ass no matter how much he liked annoying him. But he knows with his much-appreciated advice or not, he would shut down such thought with a stubborn "Nope, I’m gonna wait for her.”

     He can’t bring himself to just get up and leave when he’s already waited thirty minutes for you. His effort will go down the drain, and it was well-established between you two even back in grade school that you both have to eat your meals together. He even remembers the pinky promise your seven-year-old chubby fingers sealed along with his own pinky. “No one eats first, no one leaves the other, okay?”

     It was silly at first, but after knowing how you hate eating alone when you’re so used with warmth and hearty meals shared within close-knitted families like yours and his, he made it a point to fulfill his end of the promise whenever your schedules aligned or can be bended in some cases. He even got to the point he rudely nudged Jongin away last year just to get to the seat across yours in the cafeteria when he noticed the university’s top ballet dancer was headed to your direction. He knows he was being mean and irrational, but in his defense, that spot was his to begin with and he refuses to see another guy seated across you in tables for two other than him… well, your dad and brother are excluded from this ridiculous setting he made.

     He just likes to see you talk a storm about another idea you got while eating, delving in things you love, bright eyes and glowing smile directed at nothing but him that the rest of the world seemed like only giant backdrops for him and you. He’s not ready to tell you that yet, so he usually tries to quell the fluttering of bird wings in his rib cage by teasing and playfully annoying you just to temporarily soften the intensity of the songs the birds in his chest sings whenever you’re near.

     Just like now, he could already feel his heart picking up pace when he heard the student’s faint chuckles and chortles getting clearer by the second behind the door. He immediately shrugs off his jacket and shoves it in his bag just so he can stand up and lean on the wall with his elbow looking all suave. It wasn’t really that cold and Seokjin passed by him earlier and said his thin shirt emphasizes the muscles he was working on lately (that you still haven’t noticed, he bitterly thinks). Taehyung remarked after taking a shower from their morning practice that his styled hair looking slightly wet made him look cooler and dare he say, hot. He checked the mirror a thousand times today (a first time ever in his life) and he checks his self camera now for one last time, and yes, he thinks he looks fantastic and so eyecandy.

     The door bursts open and students flock the hallway. Jungkook waved at some of his acquaintances; he also noticed some girls who glanced his way a little longer than necessary and he smiles wider because of the attention. He thinks it’s kind of normal for other students to stare at their university’s star football player whom they saw on printed tarpaulins in school gates, sometimes on television when autumn comes along with the annual university championships. But for today, he wants to be vain a little bit just for a confidence boost and so he thinks, “Maybe I do really look good today,” as he fixes his pose.

     By the time the crowd was thinning a little, Jungkook hears the tinkle of your laughter and he tries to keep himself from grinning too much while setting his elbow firmer against the wall with his other hand settled on his waist. He may or may have not also flexed his biceps for good measure.

     “Yeah and he looked so cute I wanna squeeze his cheeks and just he’s soo eyecandy I swear-“

     Instead of seeing you getting flustered seeing him looking like a snack (like he thinks he is), Jungkook nearly falls back when your head collided with his chest, his arms already wounding around yours to keep you from tumbling. Your hands instantly found purchase on his biceps and he could feel the tender curve of your chest against his abdomen and shit, Jungkook thinks the birds in his chest may start singing so he immediately pries you off to hold you by your hands, an arms-length safe away from his frantic heart, so you could stand on your feet.

     Jungkook’s cheeks heat up the minute you raise your head slowly to meet his eyes, your warmth radiating in his arms as if he was literally holding the sun, his sun. He releases his hold on your hands so fast as if he was burnt. Hands ruffling his hair he spent so much time styling, he breaks the silence, “Hey are you okay?”

     “I’m fine, I’m fine,” you smooth out your skirt and Jungkook really feels the air was knocked out of him along with his confidence. The words to cooly invite you to lunch out with him now dying in his throat when you look so cute in a rose colored knitted sweater and red skirt. You look like a fucking fairy and shit, just so eyecandy. This is too much for his poor heart.

     “Why the hell are you standing so near the door and doing this?” Jungkook looks at you copying his “eyecandy pose”, hand on your waist, elbow propped against the wall. You wear a frown but Jungkook will always recognize the teasing glint in your eyes along with your signature raised brows. Fuck, you’ll never gonna let him off the hook.

     He opts to grab his bag and yell “Nevermind, I’ve been starving already waiting for you,” as he walks away so fast with his ears burning in embarrassment. You called for him to wait for you as you speedwalk to catch up to his long strides and Jungkook laughs just to hide the loud thumping of his heart.

     Opening the door for you like he usually does, Jungkook leads you two to your usual table in Mark’s, the burger place you both frequent whenever one of you was feeling generous to treat the other with a fat wallet. Before you grab your seat, Jungkook zooms to your side to pull your chair for you and now he can see you looking funny at him. This is too strange for him too - doing the first move when he’s used to let you take initiative, him acting like a total gentleman when he’s been such a teasing, annoying ass to you for years – he’s literally not acting like his usual self. But with you muttering "What's gotten into you?", looking a little shaken with a telltale blush on your cheeks, Jungkook feels this kind of weird is something he’ll avidly do everyday just so he can see you grace that soft smile that always knocks out his heart.

     Your order arrived a couple of minutes ago but you keep your hands laced together as you talk to him about a ballad you’re planning to write while waiting for his food.

    “I mean I haven’t experienced love, and the last time I wrote about a romance story was when I was a kid –“

     “The Prince and His Rose,” Jungkook supplies and you nod.

     “Yeah, but today I finally thought of fully dive in the romance genre,“ you eyed Jungkook and you both said aloud, ”the genre - I - you - always avoid like a plague - "

     You sigh, “and just practice how well I can deliver things that I haven’t felt yet. It’s not like I’ll be able to feel everything in this world right now but I think it would be nice to put yourselves in other’s shoes and think about how will such things really feel, right?”

     “It may also be a nice training to be more empathic with your readers,” Jungkook smiles. “Wow, author-nim, you’re really going to the next level, huh,” he smirks and you swat his shoulder to which he cackled.

     His food finally arrives and you start to unwrap your meal. “Anyway, I told you that because there’s a favor I need to ask from you.”

     Jungkook bites his burger and motions you to continue.

     “Can you come to my dorm tonight and help me with the drafts?”

     Jungkook sputters, “What, wait what, you want me to?” He has never been invited by any girl before in their rooms and the last time he agreed to you to do so was when you're both 7-year-olds. It's totally different now, especially when his heart is treading on foreign waters you shouldn't know about yet anytime soon.

    You set your food down before you grab his hands between your tiny ones. “Please, just tonight. My roommate will go back home today and I just need someone to give me advice face to face with the things I’ll write and sorry I know it must inconvenience you a lot but I just hate being alone for tonight and I promise-”

    “Okay, okay, I’ll go.” Jungkook feels excitement and anxiety bubble in his diaphragm, but he hides it with a sigh and a downcast of his eyes to look as if he’s really burdened. He can’t really say no to you especially if he’s free for the whole night and here you are taking the words from his mouth just so he can be close to you. He keeps his dismayed forte, enjoying the way you try your puppy eyes that was effective on tugging the strings of his conscience back when you’re young. It still works today though the effect was centered on the soft muscle of his heart and a little bit on his brain now. God, he’s so whipped.

     “What were you promising again?”

     You sit upright and do the pledge pose you always made fun of because of him in grade school. “I’ll help you with the write ups you have to do because you’re falling behind the lit class due to the games.”

     “Wow, you just have to state my negligence so nonchalantly in public.”

     You make kissy faces at him. “What can I say? Perks of being a bestfriend.”

//

    Later that night, Jungkook and you surround yourself in thousands of papers and words, pens lining and sighing with ink and letters of longing for some lover you never had. Jungkook doesn’t know why you needed him by your side in the first place when you're doing more than okay with your lines. He feels bad when he knows he can’t really help you out without giving away too much of the musings of his heart you don’t need to hear yet so he just suggests things you can tweak like “instead of blazing, write ‘scorching’, it has more feel to it,” or “you can add this to the fourth stanza.”

     It wasn’t until you stood up to make some dinner that your phone rang with a new text message when Jungkook knew why you actually needed him. Another declined manuscript, failed deadlines - Of course you wouldn’t say it aloud to him, but he knows with your sudden workaholic tendency tonight, you’ve been escaping the reality, seeking comfort in your art and maybe in his presence. He doesn’t say anything and just meets your gaze across your counter to see you huffing about making him some french toast with a giggle. You may hide your disappointment in masked happiness so well, but the way your smile won't reach to a full curve will never be ignored by his eyes. Minute details may be surpassed with naked eyes, but after spending years with you playing hide and seek with him between the lines, he already knew the paths and directions your intentions and feelings will usually go.

     After finishing dinner and you deciding not to divulge anything, Jungkook chooses to pull your blanket from your closet and drape it over your heads. The worn galaxies in its star printed fabric blankets you in reassuring comfort, a sanctuary you both found constellations back in high school whenever it just feels too good to leave everything behind. It will always be the closest space you could ever get while living in a suffocating world. 

     The softness of the cloth and the warmth of his arm he caressed your shoulders lulled your breathing to a noiseless slumber, head slumping against his shoulder. It’s far from peaceful when your face is scrunched but Jungkook thinks it’s better than seeing you suffer sleepless nights that have been getting worse when you’re stressed these days.

     Jungkook picks up your limp form and carries you to your bedroom, lithe fingers tucking you under the sheets. With you asleep, he lets the birds in his heart sing in tremendous chorus as he presses a kiss on your forehead that automatically smoothened the tension your brows were holding.

     He grabs the papers you both trailed on and arranges them on your desk when your small voice halts his movements.

    "I'm feeling sad but here you are looking so..."

     "What?"

     “… not my fault you looked so eye candy earlier.”

     It may be a wrong time but Jungkook can’t help but drop a little something when he knows you have a bad habit of blurting things you keep to yourself when you’re asleep. Back then, he used to poke fun at your weird habit but now when everything has changed, he will still tease you about that but he intends to find hope for the thorns of his anxiety poking his heart.

    “Whose fault is it?”

    “…Jeon Jungkook’s.”

     That near-midnight, Jungkook escapes through your window when your RA made her rounds on your floor. He may have almost fallen on his bum but he thinks all his efforts for today are all worth it. He lays on his bed, the birds on his chest singing a ballad he never heard of before.

Epliogue

"So I heard you said I was so eyecandy huh?"

"When was that?!"

"I'm not gonna tell~"

"Jeon Jungkook, come back here!"

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.

[themiscyra1983]

☕️

You submitted this months ago and I couldn’t think of a favorite passage of anything I had actually published then but I’ve just started posting one of the things I’ve been working on so I can answer it now.

All our planning, all our scheming, all our cleverness, it had all come down to this. We had broken ourselves like waves against an uncaring shore. In time, perhaps, we would have worn mountains down to sand, and washed it all away to the sea.

But time was a luxury we did not have.

I knelt, unwillingly, upon the cold stone floor, my arms and head locked in an iron frame large and heavy enough that I tilted painfully forward, my legs locked in place with chains and bolts driven so deep I could not hope to free myself. To my left, Alice was restrained exactly the same way. To my right, Leah, too, was clad in irons, with one crucial difference: blades were set at her throat, her wrists, and around her legs. If she dared to shift, key arteries would be sliced open in the process, so quickly that even she couldn’t hope to survive. All of us had been dressed in sackcloth, rough and itchy against the skin, and our legs and feet had been left bare.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. As I gazed at the dais before us, at the three thrones that sat there and the three ancient vampires who ruled from those looming seats, I saw the most heartbreaking of all the sights in this room. Callie knelt next to the central throne, her head bowed and her skin mottled with dark bruises, her arms chained behind her back, a gag fitted in her mouth, and a steel collar about her neck. A chain was attached to the collar, and Aro himself held it in his long, white fingers, grinning like a maniac.

Beside me, I could hear Leah growling, almost constantly, a low, ominous rumble that bubbled up from her gut and echoed through her throat. When I glanced over, I could see her eyes flickering periodically, becoming vaguely wolfish before she managed to wrest back her self-control. I tried to give her as much silent encouragement as I could. The last thing I wanted was to watch her die - to watch any of my loved ones die. But then, really, all I was doing was delaying the inevitable.

“You poor, precious angels,” Aro cooed, as though we were nothing more than wayward children. I supposed, to him, we were. “You thought you’d had a new idea, didn’t you? You really thought you could succeed where so many have failed. Did you truly believe no one else had tried? That you had weapons and tactics we hadn’t seen before, in all the centuries of our reign? Scarcely any of you over a century in age, but oh, never mind that. Your cause is right. Your cause is just. The gods must be on your side. Was that it?”

His blood-red eyes, covered in a milky film but somehow no less ominous, locked with my gaze. “The gods are fickle, my dear. In my time, we understood that very well.”

“Someday you will fall,” Alice spat beside me.

Aro gave her a look of exaggerated surprise. “Will we? Was that another of your famed visions? A pity you didn’t see your own downfall, little one. A genuine shame. I had such high hopes for you, Alice. And you, Bella! Such potential. So badly wasted. If only we could delude ourselves into thinking you were nothing but poor little lost lambs, led astray by false shepherds. Alas. We know better. You, Isabella Swan, were the ringleader. You must be an example to all. And these, your most faithful friends...well. They must be part of that example as well.”

My heart pounded in my chest. I looked around frantically. I could see no avenues for escape. But my other loved ones - the other Cullens, the other shifters, the other vampires I counted as friends, Kate, Jessica, Angela, Rosalie, dad - were nowhere in sight. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe some of them got away. Maybe…

There was a sudden murmur from the faceless masses attending this audience in the throne room of the Volturi. Gray-cloaked guards filed in from doors on each side of the room, each of them bearing a silver platter, and each platter bore the lifeless head of a vampire, or a shifter, or a hybrid. Sam, Paul, Jared, Jacob, Embry, Quil, Seth, Eleazar, Carmen, Tanya, Irina, Carlisle, Esme, Eleanor, Jessamine, Jasper, Edward, Emmett, Kate, Rosalie, my father...they all stared in silent, sightless accusation.

I’d failed them. I’d failed them all.

I sobbed, despite my best effort to show no emotion before these utter bastards. Leah snarled, starting to shake as she fought her transformation. Aro’s smile widened.

“Bring out the main course,” he ordered.

Jane and Alec stepped abruptly into view, dragging Jessica and Angela with them. Both of them looked battered and broken, tears streaming down their faces, and Jessica in particular had been bound tightly and gagged, just like Callie, so she couldn’t save herself with any magic spells. Jane shoved Jessica into Caius’s lap, and he grinned like a hungry crocodile, but Marcus, as ever, remained distant and impassive. Instead of giving Angela to him, Alec kept hold of her, while his twin sister joined him on Angela’s other side. Ang’s eyes flicked to Edward, and she let out a loud wail, shaking violently.

Aro dragged Callie up and into his own lap, stroking her hair while she trembled, too weak and too frightened to do anything more. He looked to either side, nodding - and then as Caius, Jane and Alec attacked their own victims, he tore open my best friend’s throat and drank greedily.

Some of the vampires watching surged briefly forward in bloodlust and hunger, only to be stopped by the Volturi guard. There was no stopping Leah. An inhuman howl ripped from her throat, her bonds twisting with a loud, metallic screech as she exploded into her wolf form - and the blades did their work, cutting deep, sending her red, red blood spilling all across the stone floor, some of it splattering across my face and arms as she stumbled to the ground. Her howl fell into a low, fading series of whimpers, and her eyes met mine as the light slowly faded and her breathing stopped. Her heart stuttered in her chest and grew still.

A terrible heat began to rise, deep in my belly. I could feel tendrils of starfire snaking their way through me, worming through my limbs, up my throat, into my eyes. Something beneath my skin began to glow with a nuclear fire, writhing and twitching like worms burrowed deep in my flesh.

But no one else seemed to take any notice, even as my eyeballs grew so hot I thought they might explode, even as an unceasing light burned brighter and brighter within me, even as I felt something wake. Aro finished his meal and threw Callie’s bloodied corpse into the crowd, a melee breaking out as multiple vampires fought over his scraps. He rose from his throne, his pale hands wiping at his bloodied mouth and chin, though this did little more than spread the mess. He licked his long fingers as he strode over to Alice, smiling beatifically down at her. Then, with an exasperated, almost paternal sigh, he grabbed her head and tore it off, kicking her body to the floor in a smooth motion. He nodded to a guard as he walked away, and the cloaked figure stepped forward with a torch, setting Alice’s headless body ablaze, even as the life left her swiftly slackening face.

I began to shake, the light within me flaring brighter still, and something whispering in my brain in ancient and unholy tongues. Beneath my breath, I echoed its words, in a dead language that no human had ever known, and yet, the underlying sentiment resonated in my soul. Death. Destruction. An end to this petty creation and all the petty things that dwelt there. Let the stars align, let the barriers shatter, and let it all be washed clean in the pure and infinite fire.

“Alas. Poor Alice,” Aro pronounced, holding her head aloft. He wasn’t even looking at me - he’d turned to address Marcus. “I knew her, Marcus...oh, come on, dear boy, the least you could do is crack a smile…”

No words fell from my mouth - or, at least, none that these insects would understand. My mouth opened wider than ever before, my skin cracking to grant it more space, and I screamed. Light exploded out from me, and the creatures all around me lost their sparkle in an instant, lost their strength, their glory. Blood poured from their noses, their mouths, their ears.

I wasn’t done. My head snapped back, my gaze turning skyward, and I was nothing but the scream and the stream of light that burst upward like a solar flare. The castle shattered all around us. The former vampires exploded in bursts of light, like tiny supernovae - exactly like supernovae, because I could see the gorgeous gamma ray bursts they gave off, shimmering in the prettiest shades of lethality. I could see so much now.

I giggled, even as I screamed, even as the tentacles of light ripped their way from my crude mortal shell with sweet, delicious agony, even as I grew, and grew. I howled with laughter as my fire expanded across the place I had once known as Volterra, then the place the pitiful inhabitants of this world had called Italy, then something I thought I might have heard referred to once as Eurasia, and finally all the way around a little cinder called...oh, I no longer remembered. It scarcely mattered. I was already spreading out and out and out, across the entire universe, and even thatwasn’t enough, I was everything and I needed more and oh, just there, someone had thought they could wall me in, foolish little thing…

I shattered the barriers that separated the finite and the infinite, and light met light with the most terrific explosion, and I laughed and I cried and I gibbered and I screamed.

[my-one-love-is-music]

My Heart Was Yours Before I Knew You (295)

Barry and Iris stared at him, twin looks of horror filling their faces.

“Wally,” Barry started, hand hovering over his arm like he wanted to touch but was afraid of what might happen if he did. “What do you mean your dad did this? How long has this been going on?”

“A while,” he admitted. “The beatings only started a while ago. I thought if I kept my head down nothing worse would happen, but just being late was enough to set him off tonight.”

“What started all of this?” Iris asked, wrapping an arm around his back to tug him over to the couch.

Wally stiffened as she guided him down onto the couch cushions and Barry crowded in on his other side. He swallowed and took a shaky breath.

“His attitude started to change when I told him my soulmate was a boy,” he whispered.

“Oh Wally,” Iris said, sounding like her own heart was breaking.

“And tonight when my dad did all of this,” he said, waving at his face, “Blue was frantic and scared and worried and I knew I had to get out of the house. It wasn’t just me anymore. It’s both of us.”

“Wally, are you saying that you would’ve stayed in that house if you didn’t have  a soulmate?” Barry asked.

Wally ducked his head, feeling his cheeks flame from embarrassment and shame.

Barry sighed and wrapped an arm tightly around him, pulling him against his side.

“I’m glad you made the choice to come with us. I’m not going to let you stay in that house again. We’re going to call DCS and you’re going to stay with us from now on, okay?” Iris whispered. “We’re going to keep you safe and Rudy can’t hurt you anymore.”

Wally nodded, relieved and drained and wanting nothing more than to sleep and let everything fade away.

“Go get cleaned up in the bathroom. I’m going to make a few phone calls,” Barry said, pushing himself up from his seat.

Wally watched him go to the kitchen and Iris squeezed his shoulder.

“Tell your soulmate that everything’s okay. I’m going to talk to Barry. You should get some rest and if you’re feeling up to it I’ve got a snack with your name on it when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Aunt I,” Wally said. He watched her go before he pushed himself off the couch. His aches were starting to fade but fixing his nose was going to be the worst.

He trudged up the stairs and pushed into the bathroom. The harsh light made the appearance of his blood covering his chin and shirt sickly against his pale skin. He dropped his backpack on the floor and pulled off his shirt, careful of his nose. He set it on the counter and prodded his nose, wincing at how it had already started to mend and heal.

“Well, here goes nothing,” he muttered. He braced his palms against his nose and shoved, cutting off a sharp cry when his nose broke again and blood gushed from the fresh wound.

He realigned his nose and sucked in deep breaths through his mouth, trying to calm the ever more rapid beat of his heart from the pain. He grabbed his bloody shirt and held it under his nose, careful not to press against his face and disrupt the alignment while he soaked up the gushing blood before the flow stemmed as his healing kicked in.

He winced as his nose slowly starting stitching itself back into place. He dropped his shirt and dug around in his backpack, pulling out his spare change of pajamas.

Wally changed quickly, mindful of his nose as he carefully cleaned as much blood from himself as he could. He’d take a shower in the morning and fully clean himself once his nose was healed.

His arm was fully on display now that he was in a tee and Blue’s frantic writing still covered his forearm. He dug the pen out of his pocket and scribbled out a new message underneath his previous one.

I’m safe, Blue. I”m safe and I promise that I won’t let anything bad happen to me again. My aunt and uncle are going to take care of me.

Wally waited, almost wanting to pack up his things and move his backpack into the guest room, but he needed to know Blue knew he was okay. He needed them both to be okay.

The writing came slowly. Less frantic like each word was carefully thought over.

Please don’t scare me like that again, Green. I was I was terrified. Green please don’t leave me.

I’m never going to leave you Blue I promise. You can’t get rid of me now

Good. Because you can’t get rid of me either.

Wally smiled. His first one of the night. They were both going to be okay. He’d make sure of it. He was going to stay safe until the day they could finally meet in person.

And once that happened, Wally was never going to let him go.

Wally grabbed his backpack and his dirty clothes and walked down the hall to the guest room. He hesitated, eyeing the bloody clothes in his hand. He left his backpack and walked carefully down the stairs, approaching the kitchen.

“Thanks, Batman,” Barry said, voice filtering softly through the doorway. “You’ll be here within the day? Try not to attract too much attention. You can come through the back. I owe you for this.”

Wally didn’t hear what Batman had said, but it was something that made Barry laugh. He didn’t think Batman was capable of cracking jokes but it had been enough to lighten the mood.

He stepped into the kitchen and Iris looked up at his appearance.

“Wally,” she said, hurrying over to him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine. I just thought it would be a good idea to get these clothes washed.”

She nodded. “I can take care of those. You get yourself something to eat. I’m sure you need it.”

“Sure.”

“How are you feeling?” Barry asked after he slipped his phone into his pocket.

“Better. Were you talking to Batman?”

Barry grinned. “Yup. He’s going to be in town tomorrow and he’s bringing someone with him.”

Wally stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“He’s got a sidekick.”

“A sidekick?” Wally asked excitedly, grin pulling at his lips. “My age?”

“A couple years younger. He goes by the name of Robin.”

Wally’s excitement grew. Finally, he had someone to talk to about what it was like being a kid hero. He could have a new friend even. He couldn’t wait to meet him and tell Blue about it.

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

[atthevogue]

“Stop Making Sense” (1984)

The basics: Wiki | IMDb | TVTropes

Opened: Jonathan Demme and David Byrne’s Talking Heads concert film opened the second week of March 1985. It ran for a few weeks, and by early June was showing at Village 8, the local second-run theater. It was revived at The Vogue in July, and ran a few times a month through 1986 and 1987, usually as the second-to-last or last show of the day. 

Also on the bill: Opening weekend, it shared a very unlikely bill with the slow-burning 1975 Australian film Picnic at Hanging Rock. It also shared some more tonally appropriate bills with Buckaroo Banzai, Amadeus, Fellini Satyricon and another Australian cult favorite, Bliss. A few times, of course, it was inevitably programmed before the monthly midnight screening of Rocky Horror. 

What did the paper say? Given its status in years since as the great rock concert movie of that (and any) era, there wasn’t much coverage at the time. The Courier-Journal’s regular film and theater critic from the late 1940s through the early 1990s, William Mootz, didn’t appear to see it. Janet Maslin’s glowing New York Times review was run instead, as was common practice for smaller movies. Vince Staten, the vaguely curmudgeonly but always insightful TV critic of the 1980s, wrote a few years later when it came out on VHS that "quite a few people, myself included, thought it was the best rock-concert movie ever made.” In 1987, towards the end of its run at The Vogue, a weekend roundup in the paper’s Saturday edition highlighted it, calling it "a cult in the making" that was “building a faithful following in its repeated engagements at the Vogue Theatre.” The headline was “’Stop Making Sense’ is making lots of cents.”

What was I doing? I was between six and eight years old. It was unrated, so I certainly could have seen it, though neither of my parents were Talking Heads fans, and I don’t think it would have occurred to them to take me -- this is the kind of thing my cool aunt would have considered taking me to see. Maybe I am giving myself more credit than I deserve, but I think I would have liked parts of it quite a lot.

In a mid-sized town like Louisville in the 1980s, I imagine fringe culture tended to consolidate itself into small, overlapping groups. Bookstores, bars, music venues, video stores, coffee shops and art galleries serving the same audiences all overlapped in their programming to some extent.

The Vogue, in addition to showing the movies we’re talking about here, was also an occasional music venue. Its musical programming served a roughly parallel function to its cinematic programming: it was an outlet what used to be called “alternative” culture. A number of Louisville’ earliest punk and new wave shows, in the late 1970s and early ‘80s, happened there. 

In fact, on that note, I have an eBay alert set up for “vogue louisville” so I can grab any Vogue-related memorabilia that comes through. Almost nothing does, though recently there’s been someone trying to unload a ticket stub for an Iggy Pop show presented there in partnership with the Kentucky Center for the Arts in 1990. The sort of person who might go see Iggy would also likely be there for the showings that week, which included Pump Up the Volume and Pink Floyd The Wall. Neither of those were exactly countercultural circa 1990, but were certainly adjacent. (Incidentally, I’m a little tempted to buy that Iggy ticket, but it doesn’t even have the name of the Vogue printed on it, so it doesn’t seem like it’s really worth it for my purposes. Still, there it is below.)

Jonathan Demme’s Stop Making Sense played the Vogue for about two years. Though that was a lot longer than most rock movies, it was far less than, for example, Led Zeppelin’s The Song Remains the Same, which played for ten years, or the aforementioned Pink Floyd The Wall, which showed regularly for almost fifteen, right up until a year before it closed. This tells us that while the Vogue catered regularly to a new wave crowd, their economic bread and butter was either aging boomers or stoned college kids who remained in an oblivious dope haze throughout the events of the 1980s (or possibly both).

But a few times a month for two years indicates there was a healthy interest in Stop Making Sense among a fairly sizable portion of Louisville’s young cultural elite. There were a lot of weirdo bands in Louisville in the mid-1980s, loosely aligned with punk but a little artier, and I wonder how of them were in attendance. Once again, this is one of the big problems with this experiment: watching a lot of these movies on a streaming service on a TV all by myself is so unlike seeing it projected on film in a communal setting with a roomful of people that it barely qualifies as the same experience. It’s like trying to write about having a dinner at the French Laundry by eating a Trader Joe’s frozen quiche lorraine over the sink in your kitchen. Koyaanisqatsi loses a lot in this format, and Stop Making Sense may lose even more.

Koyaanisqatsi, which was also on the midnight movie circuit about the same time, is a fully immersive experience, like Stop Making Sense. Demme’s movie, though, goes a step beyond immersion by inviting active participation. It’s shot from the perspective of the audience, with no reaction shots or backstage interviews, and since the audio was recorded digitally, it was crystal-clear, or as crystal-clear as the P.A. allowed at the Vogue. Probably the sound and sights were, in some way, superior to those you might have seen at that Iggy Pop show live in person. Most of the reports from the time -- not in Louisville specifically, but in many places -- make note of people dancing in the aisles. I can imagine it must have been a similar scene at the Vogue.

As a director, I didn’t give any thought Jonathan Demme up until a few years ago. I’d seen Silence of the Lambs, and liked it OK, and although I adored Swimming to Cambodia, I thought that had more to do with Spalding Gray than Jonathan Demme. In a stirring reminder, though, that the internet can still cough up truly remarkable documents that change the way you see the world, I stumbled across this Jacob T. Swinney supercut from 2015. I remember opening it, and scoffing to myself, “oh, so Jonathan Demme is like an auteur now?” 

Obviously I was way, way off-base. Three-and-a-half minutes later, the video had made a total convert of me. The way those faces looked at you -- clearly there was something here. I rented all of them over the course of a few weeks, through his early and middle period, from Melvin and Howard through Married to the Mob. I came away with the sensation of falling in love, partially with way of making movies but also with a whole worldview. Demme’s movies find a way to be incredible stylish assemblages of the best parts of North American culture (all accompanied by incredible soundtracks), and also turns its attention to oddballs, misfits and outcasts with a loving gaze that manages to be both amused and compassionate.

Stop Making Sense does all of these things. David Byrne is not warm, exactly, but his arch sense of humor is endearing, and of course he’s one of the great eccentrics of late 20th century American culture. And he’s surrounded by a gang of musicians that seem like they’re right of out of a Demme movie, like the house party at the end of Swing Shift or the Miami hotel pool in Married to the Mob: Chris Frantz in funny-dad mode with a very un-rock-star polo shirt, Bernie Worrell mugging at the camera, Tina Weymouth looking cool in a succession of power suits, Lynn Mabry and Ednah Holt providing synchronized commentary throughout.

It’s only at the end that Demme, as if he’s been teasing you by withholding them, allows some audience shots to sneak in. They look like the sorts of sweet, goony people you’d hope to meet at a Talking Heads show. After every Demme movie, there’s a sense that you, too, could be part of a global community of weirdos who take care of one another. 

I can tell you from experience that being weird in a place like Louisville, a town that can be both rigidly conservative and indulgent of eccentricity, could be sort of a lonely experience. It was also the sort of place where there were enough of you out there that you usually found each other somehow. I hope a few of the members of that Demmian-Byrnian community, all out at the Vogue on a Saturday night dancing in the aisles, caught a glimpse of one another when the lights came on.

[hiccup-is-left-handed]

Campfire

A/N: So uh yeah I’m suuuuuuuuuper late for this prompt in @tarched’s event. I had a busy vacation and my writing buddy just started college, so writing has been...difficult, to say the least. Regardless, we really liked the prompts so we’re probably gonna write for most of them and I’ll just post them when they get done, outside the event. Anyhoo...this is set after the events of HTTYD2. I’ve had this idea in my head for ages and when I saw an opportunity to write it out I had to take it. (Also relies on @kingofthewilderwest‘s analysis on the lack of communication between tribes.) Enjoy!

Hiccup sighed. He, Astrid, and Toothless were standing in the shadows thrown by two campfires, one surrounded by large shapes and the other by slightly smaller ones. It was the first Meeting of the Tribes of the Archipelago since Hiccup had become chief of Berk, and given that communication between the tribes was scarce, the news would be a shock to many of them. Hiccup had been fine with wandering the festivities, since he could more or less be lost in the crowd, but there would be no hiding here. To be sure, it was only the casual assembly of chiefs, but attending the bonfire was a show of good will, and now that Berk had dragons, it was important for both Hiccup and Toothless to make an appearance. 

“They don’t even know about the dragons,” Hiccup said, breaking a long silence. His hands were nervously scratching Toothless’s ear flaps. “They don’t know about my dad, or me, or the dragons--how am I supposed to explain all that?”

Astrid kept her voice soft, her warmth a comforting presence beside him. “Some of them might already know. The ones closest to Berk.”

"At least I don't have to wear that stupid cloak until tomorrow."

"True." 

Silence fell again, until Astrid sighed and moved closer, threading her fingers through his and resting her head on his shoulder. "I'll be there right beside you. You won't be alone."

"Actually, you won't." He pointed to the fire surrounded by the slightly smaller people. "You'll be over there, with the other women.”

"What?" Astrid's sharp eyes matched her voice as they flashed towards him. "I'm your right hand."

Hiccup instinctively retreated, hands in the air. "Look, I didn't make the laws, and I'm not about to change them my first time here. Maybe next time. But you never know, they could all be their husbands' right hands, too!"

"I know, I know--" Astrid sighed, still frustrated but her anger back under control. "...I guess I'm just so used to the way we do things that I forget that the other tribes aren't the same. It's just--I want to be there for you."

Hiccup moved back in and put his hands on her upper arms. "I know you do. But this is something I have to do on my own." He smiled a bit. "Besides, you can complain to them about how much you hate living with me."

That drew a reluctant chuckle out of her. "I moved in just for Toothless."

"And I'm sure many of them will wholeheartedly understand." He gave her a swift peck on the lips. "Go have fun. Toothless and I will be fine."

"Alright." She squeezed his hand, meeting his eyes. "I'll meet you at the battle arena. Don't you dare try to get out of it this time."

He rolled his eyes. "I promise."

She left, fingers brushing his one more time before she went to join the other women and warriors. 

The chief's fire glared into Hiccup's eyes, almost like a challenge. He shook himself and held his head high. "Alright, bud. Let's do this."

Toothless warbled, standing up straight as his rider did but letting Hiccup rest his hand on his head.

The other chiefs looked up as Hiccup walked into the ring of firelight. The noisy chatter and bellowing laughter died slightly, each man confused, baffled, suspicious, or even angry at the sight of the tall, slender man with his shadow of a dragon.

Hiccup waved at them. "Hello, everyone. Good to see you all, good to be here. This is Toothless. Say hi, bud." 

Toothless offered them a wary warble, his body tense. The silence was now absolute. It grew and stretched between Hiccup and the other chiefs, worming its way into Hiccup's head and making it hard for him not to swallow or step back. Finally, Svenston of the Hardheader tribe stepped forward, massive arms crossed over his chest. "...Where's Stoick?"

Hiccup looked him in the eye, his voice steady. "My father is dead. I'm the chief now."

"Stoick––dead?" The astonished silence was broken by the chief of the Meatheads. The shock in his eyes was mirrored in the eighteen other pairs of eyes glinting in the firelight.

"He died protecting me from Drago Bludvist.” His voice wavered just a bit, and his gaze fell to Toothless as patted the dragon’s head. " But don’t worry. He's gone now."

"Drago?" "Drago?" "Drago died long ago!" The words were passed around the fire, growing in volume and intensity. 

"Drago wasn't dead then and he isn't dead now. But he is gone, and he won’t have power ever again.” Probably.

"Gone? Gone where? How do we know you're not lying." The chief of the Murderous tribe stood, walking over to Hiccup and glaring down at him with clenched fists.

"You can't be the chief." The chief of the Thunderheads stood and stalked towards them as well, eyes full of hate. "The real chief of Berk would never walk with a creature like that."

Toothless growled. "Easy, bud," said Hiccup, pressing gently on the dragon's snout while his mind and thoughts sped up. He hadn’t been expecting this much of a fight. His eyebrows turned down and his voice grew more firm. "There's a lot to explain, I know, but right now the real chief of Berk is the only thing between you and the only known Night Fury in existence, so I'd lay off on the threats if I were you."

Even the toughest of the chiefs backed up slightly at the sight of a Night Fury baring his teeth, but the hate in the Murderous Chief's eyes only grew stronger. "Dragons are our enemy. You're with the dragons––therefore, you're our enemy."

Hiccup hadn’t heard that in a long, long time. Some of the chiefs were shifting in their places, suddenly uncomfortable at the Murderous's open declaration of enmity. Berk was one of the most powerful tribes in the Archipelago, especially now that their chief apparently controlled a Night Fury.

"Dragons are not our enemy,” he replied, with an extra push on Toothless. “Dragons have saved my life and the lives of my entire tribe more than once. Without dragons, we never would have defeated Drago."

"Dragons have killed our people, ruined our crops, eaten our livestock, and now you expect us to start cuddling them just because you found a pet?!" The Murderous Chief's face contorted in a snarl, but the rest of the chiefs were looking down, some thinking, some hesitating, none inclined to align themselves with the Murderous. Hiccup read the situation and pressed his advantage.

"You sound exactly like my father. Dragons have done all of that to our people too. But, ah, mind telling me when your most recent raid was?"

The chief hesitated, eyes still smoldering. "...Two years ago."

Hiccup nodded. "Checks out. That was about when my friends and I left home to study dragons more closely, and we ended up relocating a lot of them to their ancestral homes. Dragons have no need to attack humans if their own food systems are fine, so things have been pretty quiet ever since."

The crackle and snap of the fire and the distant slap of waves on the sand were the only sounds that could be heard for two long, tense minutes. Then Svenston stepped forward, shouldering aside the Murderous Chief to stand before Hiccup. "...Ah'm sorry, ta hear of Stoick's death. He was a good man, and a good Chief. Tha world's a lesser place without him. But I welcome you as the new Chief of Berk, as great as your father was before ye."

Hiccup ducked his head. "Thank you, Svenston. It's an honor to be here." Then he straightened up and addressed the whole group. "I'm not like my dad. I'm smaller, I make jokes, and my best friend is a dragon. But I hope you come to respect me the way you respected my father. You'll find that I'm just as diplomatic and just as yak-headed as he was." He smiled as the assembled chiefs chuckled and the air around the campfire cleared just a bit. "So, uh..." He gestured towards the fire. "Let's...have a good time?"

Conversation awkwardly resumed. The Murderous Chief gave Hiccup one last glare, then stalked to the other side of the fire and sat down. Hiccup let out his breath and turned to Toothless, giving him a scratch on the head. "Well. I think that went well, bud! It certainly could have gone worse."

Toothless grumbled, apparently not convinced, and sat down. "Am I the only optimist around here? C'mon that was great! Nobody declared war, we're all still alive, and hey look! Your favorite fish. Things are looking up."

Hiccup could feel the other chiefs’ eyes on him as he walked towards the food. He had a long way to go with these men. He had gained neither their respect or their trust tonight; the next day’s official proceedings would be his true test. But over the course of the evening he talked and eventually laughed with the other chiefs, and some of them even asked to approach Toothless. It hadn’t been a bad start.

[karathelastairbender]

There is No Me, Without You

TAGGING → Kara (Mentions of Lauren, Zoey, and others)

LOCATION →  Here, there, everywhere.

TIME FRAME → Prompty-prompt yo. Never happened.

GENERAL NOTES → Trigger warning. Death below the cut. Pretty sad and angsty. You know how bad I get. Read at your own risk.

Loose rocks crumbled beneath her feet, skittering over an edge as harsh water crashed against the jagged sharp earth that kept getting swallowed whole with each new raging wave. Here, on this edge, things felt hollow. Just like they had for the past few months. Just like they always did. Her mom always told her that everything happened for a reason, that everything she did or experienced lead to a new point or pinnacle in her life.

So what exactly led her to here?

Green eyes stared out over the edge, dark storm clouds bringing a harsh rain to coat her skin. Maybe in another life she would have had someone to pull her back from this edge, this literal and metaphorical edge.

Would it flash before her eyes? Her life. They always said that right? Right before you die... Your life is supposed to play through your mind like an old movie and then you’re gone. She didn’t know what she’d see.

With a breath, Kara stepped off the edge, hands clasped into fists. Her body fought with her, knowing she had the element of air, knowing she could fly and save herself. But as she fell, as if in slow motion, time ticked back.

And back.

Until.....

They came back with sad faces and she couldn’t understand why. Her mom was crying and her father was upset. After a few days, Kara finally tugged on her father’s pants and asked him what happened. He held her tightly as finally, he too, broke down. Kara pressed as many kisses as she could onto his face but there was only so much a three year old could do to cheer up a heartbroken parent. When his sobs slowed down, he cradled Kara’s face and said it in the only way her small self could understand; apparently Lauren wasn’t coming home.

It would take her a couple years to realize what that meant and a few more after that to understand that her home would never be the same. Her parents were forever hollow shells of themselves and eventually, they divorced. Kara lived with her father while her mom moved far away, farther away than Kara was allowed to go.

As she grew older, Kara learned that maybe, just maybe, life was better off lived alone. She didn’t do well with big crowds and kept to herself. Her dad tried to convince her to take up an instrument, to play a sport, to assert herself and be better than she believed she was. She didn’t. Kara kept to the sidelines, out of sight. She didn’t get asked to prom, she didn’t have a large group of friends, only two and after high school they never got in touch.

Her highest grade was a B. It was in art and she was very proud of it. Her father had cried the first time she’d come home with a painting of what she imagined Lauren would have looked like by now. Dark hair, gorgeous eyes and a strong presence that emanated warmth and happiness. Kara called the painting ‘Hope’ even though she herself, felt none.

When she got to RIAP, she was once again, alone. Her roommate had switched out at the last moment so Kara was left to herself. Pushing herself into her studies, she managed to keep her grades up despite the change from high school to college. It was during winter when she chose her alignment; dark had called to her. Her father didn’t understand but loved her despite their differences and Kara thought that that was enough. It wasn’t.

The years of college went by, one of them being a year where she went abroad, right after her freshman year. She told her dad it was so she could find herself. In reality, all she wanted was to find something to keep her tethered. When she did come back, she felt a resounding feeling in her gut that would soon begin to manifest and grow with each day that she let that darkness inside. Her dad moved closer to the school, wanting to keep an eye on Kara and when she was given a room assignment to move in with some girl named Zoey, Kara decided it was better to live at home.

Sometimes she’d see the girl who was supposed to be her roommate on the Quad. She looked positively radiant. Happy. Hopeful. All things Kara couldn’t even begin to imagine herself having as qualities. She wondered what her life would be like if Zoey had been in it. Would she be happier? Would she be getting out of her house to go do things like watch movies or get milkshakes? With each new what if and each resounding probably not, her paintings began to get darker. Charcoals replaced color, hope was replaced with tragedy. Instead of showing her father, she kept them hidden away in a closet. They didn’t matter. When her father did find them, he insisted that she go out and do something.

That was the night of the Halloween Festival. Kara had been one of the unlucky victims to be possessed. And in her grief and hatred, Thomas took it all to new heights. There was a body count after that night. Thankfully, Kara had been stopped before she had joined the ranks of those that had taken a life but after she’d woken up, she’d felt like hers had been laid to rest as well. In a drunken stupor, Kara flew to a local nightclub and surrounded herself with a throng of people. She’d never drank before, never been with this many sweaty bodies in one room. By the end of the night, she woke up in someone’s bed, clothes gone as well as the last remaining pieces of resilience she had in her.

Every night from there on out, Kara would go to the cliffs that overlooked the ocean. Sometimes she’d see a blonde girl on the cliffs further away. Sometimes the blonde girl brought friends. Kara never went over to say hello. Kara never wanted to.

When she got the news that her father had been in a fatal car accident, Kara disappeared into herself. Her professors tried to reach out and let her know that she wasn’t alone. But she was. She had been since she was three years old. That was a very long time to be alone. She’d managed, until now, that is. Slowly at first, Kara began to miss classes until finally she just didn’t go at all.

With no one to turn to, Kara found herself going back to the cliff’s edge every night. Her toes would stick out over the edge and she’d begin to push off but something always had held her back. When she received the notice that if she didn’t meet with academic administration, she’d be withdrawn, Kara knew down in her bones that she couldn’t. It hurt to exist, to be this alone.

She’d flown to the cliff, wind sweeping through her hair as she outstretched her arms, tears streaming down her face.

“I can’t be alone anymore.” She cried.

“You won’t.” The storm replied.

“There is peace in my depths.” The seas relented.

Kara obeyed.

Until white light. Her body was no longer cold, warmth filled her finger tips as she felt someone rocking her back and forth. A song that she didn’t know was being sung softly into her ear. Slowly her eyes opened and she saw someone staring down at her, tears shining in their own eyes. With a shaky hand, Kara reached up to trace the face that was staring down at her with such love and care.

“Lauren?” Her voice cracked.

“Hey big sis. What took you so long?”

Kara’s eyes brimmed with tears and she sat up, noticing that they were in a field of sunflowers, her favorite. “How did we... Where am I...” She tried to process but Lauren only chuckled as she pressed a kiss to her forehead. Helping her up, Lauren grabbed her hand excitedly as she pointed to someone off in the distance. Kara’s heart swelled as she realized just who it was.

“Papa?” Kara could barely contain her emotions as Lauren led her closer to him, soon letting go of Lauren’s hand to rush towards him and hug him tightly. Finally she turned to hold out her arm to Lauren, tears streaming down her cheeks despite the smile on her face. “Where am I?” She asked again, unable to believe it.

Lauren greeted her with a smile as warmth enveloped her again, feeling safe in their arms as they hugged her. Lauren and her father both responded at the same time.

“You’re home.”

[onedirection-duh]

The Secrets between You & I Chapter11 (A Calum Hood Teen Spy Fanfic)

Your POV

I paced around the room as I heard the crowd’s applaud echo down the hallways. I huffed as I stared around the room searching for away out of this makeshift prison. The laser pointer that I had was no use, Luke must’ve put a deflecting patch on the other side of the door. I looked down at my slightly big heels and noticed underneath the shelf of cleaning products was a small ladder. Lucky for me, I’ve seen a few spy movies in my life and pulled it out from underneath the shelf.

I unfolded the small, three step ladder and grabbed a screw driver from the shelf. If I went through the door, Calum would see me and shove me in another stupid closet. But if I went up, no one would see me coming.

It was a lousy plan, but at least it was a plan.

I climbed up the ladder and began unscrewing the small screws on the corners of the vent. Eventually, I got the all off and trying to not get an dust in my eyes, I pulled myself up in through the metal vents. I clicked a secret button on my bracelet that Mali gave me, and a blue screen appeared in front of me. It scanned the area around me and map of the gala appeared. I could see the boys, each seated in different quadrants and represented by a tiny green dot. Suddenly, two yellow dots appeared by what looked like the stage. I pressed my ear piece and almost spoke into it. I stopped myself, Calum would hear me. He’d know that I had escaped.

I pulled my hand away and noticed the two yellow dots walking up on the stage now. I began crawling to find my way to the main room. I turned left down another vent as I began hearing more applaud, this time a little louder than before.

I pulled the screen out again. I was already above the main room, I kept crawling until I was directly above the stage. The two yellow dots began walking up off stage, but they were stopped by a red dot. And another one. And another one. Soon there was about 7 of them surrounding the 2. I pulled on my laser from my bra and began tracing out a red beam on the bottom of the vent. The crowd was gasping and crying in hysterics.

The four green dots moved quickly and made their way to the stage. I kicked the metal vent open and jumped down feet first to kick the plaster of the ceiling open. I landed on a guy dressed in all black.

“Y/N!” My parents looked at me with wide eyes.

“Mum! Dad!” I said getting up as it seemed the man I landed on had passed out, “Could’ve been a more graceful landing, but it was my first time.”

“Y/N,” Calum said in disbelief, “Why did you-”

“What are you all standing around for?”

We looked around, out of the panicked crowd had left already. A body appeared behind my parents. It was James.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said with an evil smile, “Sorry to cut the festivities short, but I believe I have some important things to tend to.”

“Boys,” he clapped his hands as his minions grabbed my parents as Calum and the boys tried to fight their way to them.

“Mum! Dad!” I screamed trying to get to them, but one of big men easily yanked me away and shoved me aside.

“I must say,” James walked over to me, “I was not expecting you to show up here. Must’ve been your idea. And I am quite surprised that you actually thought that you could save them.”

“Why are you doing this?” I paced at him with a fist held high, but one of his minions pulled me back, “What could you possibly want with them? You’re a teenager!”

He nodded, “Yes, true. But I’ve got my own parents to impress, poor, innocent, Y/N.”

I looked around to see that the boys had all been captured and held back.

“You didn’t have to get all caught up with this,” his continued and snapped his fingers. One of his minions that had Calum’s hands tied behind his back, shoved him in our direction.

“If you didn’t friend that lonely, new kid,” he spat the words out like acid and looked down at Calum, “And you know I’m not just talking about me, but Calum, also.”

“You made it so easy, too,” he kneeled down and squeezed Calum’s cheek before looking up at me, “Some best friend you have. He’s lied to you since day one, doubted you ever since you found out, and even locked you in a closet, just because he thought you were weak.”

I shook my head in fury, “You’re a proper bad guy, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, “Well, now you’re giving me too much credit.”

I rolled my eyes, “Bad guys and these monologues. If you’ve seen any spy movie, you would know that you’re own boasting is your down fall.”

He cocked his eyebrow. I kicked the man holding me down in the groin, releasing myself from his grasp and pressed the jewel in my earring, releasing the self tightening net from the ceiling that I had escaped from, clamping James face first to the stage floor.

His minions were handcuffed automatically to their feet. They didn't notice the mechanism that the boys attached to their wrists during their brawl. I handcuffed the main still clenching his groin as he toppled over in defeat.

“I have to admit,” I said walking towards James, “That monologue made this all anticlimactic.”

“Y/N,”Calum ran to my side, “Your parents.”

“We’ll make sure these guys get taken care of,” Ashton said to us.

Calum and I ran backstage and out the back doors. I lifted my dress and pulled out the gun that Mali had given me. We ducked at the charge of bullets in our direction behind a large pillar of the courtyard.

“They haven’t see you yet,” Calum said to me.

“I’m in a glittery dress. I’m sure they’ve noticed,” I said despite what he told me.

“I’m gonna go to the left and cause a distraction,” he ignored my comment, “You go right, circle around to the helicopter.”

“Calum, that’s a terrible plan,” I stated, “They know you’ll play those cards.”

“Well, what do you suggest then?” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Grappling hook belt,” I said pointing to the gold belt that clashed with my dress, “Follow my lead.”

“How is that-”

I stood up and aimed the grappling hook to the tail of the helicopter. It wrapped around the tail and it pulled me in it’s direction. I glided over the grass as bullets whizzed passed me. I pulled the trigger of mine and didn’t miss any shots as bad bodies fell to the ground.

I looked behind me and Calum stood there in disbelief. The propellers of the helicopter churned awake and the helicopter lifted into the air.

“Y/N!”Calum chased after me. I ran to him, hoping that he’d grab my hand in time, so we’d be on the flight together and save my parents. He reached out as he approached me, but before I knew it, I was swept away by my middle and lifted up into the air.

“Calum!” I screamed for him.

He jumped up and grabbed me by my foot, but the shoe easily slipped off leaving my left foot bare.

“Y/N!!!” I heard his faint call.

“Cal..” I whispered in defeat.

I looked up and pressed the button to bring me up to the helicopter. I latched my arm around the tail end trying to avoid the tail propellers. The grappling hook folded itself back into my belt as I wrapped my arms even tighter to avoid falling.

I pulled myself closer to the body of the chopper and reached my hand for door. I braced my foot on the landing rail and stretched out one last time before finally grabbing onto the handle. I jumped over and the door swung open. The chopper leaned slightly at the undistributed weight. The pilot looked out the window and saw me. He leaned the helicopter to try to shake me off the door. My grip tightened and I quickly used my grappling hook to latch onto the door frame. I let go of the door and swung inside and kicked pilot who was standing at the door with a gun. He hit the other side of the helicopter wall with a hard thud before passing out.

I looked over to see my Mum and Dad on the metal floor tied by the hands and feet.

“Y/N!” They said in unison.

“Mum. Dad,” I knelt down and untied them.

“Can you fly this thing?” My Dad asked while untying his ankles.

“It’s on autopilot,” I said quickly.

I looked around for a way out before the pilot woke up. My head turned quickly as I heard a whistle ringing through my ear piece and outside the helicopter.

It was Jack and Mali waving at me. They pulled up and aligned the doors. Calum was standing there with a smile.

“Come on super hero,” he was speaking through the ear piece, “We’re heading over water now. You and your parents gotta jump.”

I nodded. I turned to my parents and helped them up, “You guys go first. I’ll be right behind you.”

Jack got as close as he could, about three feet away and a bit lower than the helipcopter to avoid the propellers. Dad jumped first and safely made it onto the deck. He reached his hand out for Mum. She leapt forward and safely landed into my dad’s arms.

“Y/N, come on,” Calum urged me.

I stood at the edge of the door way and braced myself. Just as I was about to jump hands grabbed at my waist and pulled me back in.

“Y/N!” Calum screamed as the door shut on itself.

“Didn’t think I’d put up a fight, princess?” The pilot punched my gut, knocking the wind out of me. He swung again and hit my nose. The blood splattered on the front of my dress. I composed myself and kicked his wobbly legs like I did to Luke during training. I stomped down on his thigh with my heeled right foot, piercing him with the skinny heel. He fell back with a groan. He pushed back his sleeve and pressed his watch causing it to glow.

“Ever heard of self destruct button, princess?” He laughed menacingly, “You’ve got 20 seconds. Let’s see if your boyfriend will save you now.”

I ran to the door and pushed on it, but it didn't even budge. I stepped back slightly and the door swung open and broke off completely from the hinges. Calum stood on the jet with an expression of relief when he saw me.

I didn’t think twice despite the jet being a little closer than before. I jumped with all my force. I landed on top of Calum, who had fallen back onto the metal flooring of the black jet.

“Grappling hook,” he said looking at me with a small smile.

Jack pulled the jet just in time as the helicopter exploded in a small fire as it fell into the river.

[ja-khajay]

I'm kind of a new follower so can u post a short list of them n some details? sorry I'm on mobile so I cant check to see if u have an Oc page

i actually don’t…rip me… heres a Long list

TES OCS :Ma'Jahrann, enthusiastic and bubbly khajiit youth, walks the world on her tiny little legs out of curiosity. Clever little shit like what the khajiit are the best at, but always positive! She will end up a great diplomat one day, working in the highest spheres fo the empire! Until she grows too old for that shit and starts a pirate empire with a monkey wife? But that’s for another story…

Ishma, of full name Tanishmaël, a dad-aged bosmer hermit who would have stayed alone in his remote woods if he hadn’t met a young and lost Jahrann, after rescuing her from a bandit raid. He’s a nasty little man who loves to party and hunt, agrees with Jahrann that hoarding the crowd’s attention rules, would make dick jokes every two minutes if he wasn’t mute. He is covered in tattoos, most of them that he made himself, almost all but one of a great bird of prey with spread wings on his back - he sometimes dissapears into the wilderness on moonlit nights to return covered in scars and blood, he never speaks about it, nor about the tribe he was born in and had to leave

Elaahni, Jahrann’s mother, northern elsweyri dancer of great beauty. She embodies the pride and fierceness of northern khajiit tribes, but so gracious! She knows all about the starts and the gods. She holds a million secrets. Other call is gossip but she knows best how to use them.

Qa'Husar, Jahrann’s father, a gigantic soft khajiit man with a booming laugh, gave Jahrann his zest for life and energy. He loves his family deeply and will gush about them for hours. Dockworker, then owner of a trading post in the borders of the Topal Bay, where he lives with him family

Zan'sien, Jahrann’s older bro. Monk of Mara, loves martial arts, good heart but doesn’t talk much. As fierce as the northerners. He protects the caravn of Elaahni’s sister and I shall stop the family tree here it could go on for ages

Do'Mladkam : former slave born in a Dres plantation in Black Marsh. Alfiq-raht gifted with the art of speech, which he hides. He is extremely strong and used to work as pit fighter to earn a living. He then left the province with his little brother to go live in Senchal, were he takes the lead of one of the cities’ biggest gangs. Cunning, ruthless, his goal is to find and murder the man that owned his mother - and everyone who tries to stop him doing so. The only oc i have on the “evil” side of the alignment chart. (note : his name comes from the dunmeri Molad Kham, “fighting [fang], his old nickname. nobody knows his birth name)

S'regey (from ta'agra zregey, "burnt”) : Do'Mladkam’s younger brother. Ohmes, tall, mistaken for an Altmer by most. He was raised by his brother only, who taught him how to read and write, later on teaching him magic. After being caught stealing books, he was punished by the dunmer and had half of his face burnt as punishement - thus his name. A destruction mage expert, excellent liar, acts as right hand to his brother. Not quite evil. His brother’s plans will fail and kill him, and S'regey will run away to Hammerfell with his companion.

Rezad , my canon vestige! Khajiit poet and dockworker, killed during the ritual. A peace loving, airheaded stereotype of the tumblr artsy gay. He wishes for the war to stop. When it’ll be over, he’ll start a shop and sell instruments he’ll craft. Rezad wants to be a woodworker and hope music will repair broken souls. And one day, he will sail to another continent on a ship with golden sails. Rezad loves the sea, sings to her, and never wants to leave the sound of her waves

Rakkan, my canon Nerevarine : you see garfield? Well he is now a wooping three meters tall and extremely angry and spitefull. Gigantic tiger man. Old grouch. Was arrested for resisting arrest for petty crimes, but it turned out the angry thug may have made a hole in the wall using imperial soldiers and thats mean he’s better in a rock hole with metal bars i guess…….. has terrible impulse control. After getting plucked out of his cell for a bullshit elf prophecy in a bullshit elf land, he decides to flip off God and proceeds to do a terrible job as incarnate just to spite Azura (because he can). But things happen, Nerevar’s memories take over him and he has to kill Dagoth Ur, only being he recon considered him a friend - then takes down the Almsivi for treason and fucks off to Akavir. Not evil. Just had a shit life with a short temper.

Nad, canon dovahkiin (* not a tes oc actually ill come back to that later) : big orc gal with a sweet heart, herbalist, loves children and animals, genuinely wants to help saving the world, she’s buff green and a bit naive, not the brightest but so soft and good did I tell u i love her,;,;,,,,,,, Former Telvanni slave, used for experiments, she broke out and now she’s strong and beastlike. She will end up finding a beautiful nord wife and adopting many kids and dogs in a small house by a waterfall and be happy

NON TES OCS are they even any

(*) Nadalia, the Original Nad™! From the universe of an obscure manga called Tegami Bachi. Former scientific experiment gone wrong, rogue monster lady that walks from town to town to find small jobs to earn a living. I won’t tell more because it’s linkd to the series lore that takes hours to explain

Anhzi : little grandma butch lesbian, hunter from a hunter’s tribe. Of a few words, strong and wise, a Mom if I ever saw one. She’s always on an epic quest. Uses a giant spear. Lawfully lawful good. Loves her wife Tilao with all her heart.

C.K. : another lesbian mom but this time its like those lesbian country farmers from that meme a few months ago. Instead of rural USA, she drives her (primitive!) sky bkue jeep in forests of giant trees that took over human civilization. She’s always joking and would spend her life mimicking indiana jones, if indiana jones movies had survived in the distant future she lives in. Excellent pilot, here for the laugh, loves the thrill of the risk. My first novel character! I wqs 10 :D