#oof lots of tags ahead

[wreckedhoney]

^^ "coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse"

not proshipper not anti but a secret third thing (person who has a career in the media and, through covering legislative politics, has watched "associating with problematic fiction or entertainment is an indicator of moral degeneracy" rapidly become a mainstream GOP position that they are encoding in legislation to target the queer community under the guise of protecting children, thus coming to the conclusion that positioning the "can people enjoy things that would be immoral IRL in their fiction" debate as a proship v anti fandom debate is akin to pretending that "should we have the death penalty" is a discussion that only matters in Death Note discourse — the extent and manner to which fiction affects reality is an issue that is immediately relevant to today's US politics, and to summarize my opinions on the matter in fandom terms would be to diminish the ways this debate is affecting america Right The Fuck Now. and i have stopped taking "this person is bad for shipping the wrong anime thing and being horny about it" in any sort of good faith ever since I saw it literally used as part of a GOP smear campaign against a transgender state legislator in an attempt to defend the right from backlash after they used their supermajority in the Montana house to prevent her from speaking on the floor. Anyway I think everyone on this site, especially Americans, could benefit from ceasing to think in proship v anti vocabulary and instead developing coherent political positions on the nature of fiction that do not directly align with current fascist political tactics)

[babybluebex]

venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF ? 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss 𝐀����𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!

There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count). 

It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!” 

You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one. 

The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.” 

The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?” 

“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.” 

You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention. 

“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed. 

“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?” 

You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.” 

“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head. 

“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation. 

The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”

You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.” 

“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.” 

You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?” 

“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.” 

“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.” 

“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.” 

“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.” 

“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?” 

You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…” 

“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.” 

“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?” 

The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene. 

“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”  

You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm. 

You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up. 

You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out. 

You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others. 

You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy. 

Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over. 

“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.” 

“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”

“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.” 

“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked. 

“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”

“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?” 

You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.” 

“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too. 

“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.” 

“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?” 

“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked. 

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.” 

“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.” 

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks. 

Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him. 

“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?” 

Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?” 

“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?” 

“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.” 

“Probably,” Angus said simply. 

You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.” 

To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” 

You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.” 

“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic. 

“No,” you told him. 

“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next. 

You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time. 

“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.” 

All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!” 

You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked. 

Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.” 

“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.” 

“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.” 

“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.” 

“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged. 

“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.” 

“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.” 

You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.” 

The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say? 

Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes. 

You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that. 

The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”

The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.

You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?” 

“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?” 

“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?” 

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said. 

You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same. 

Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?

“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.” 

You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.” 

Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said. 

“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?” 

“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.” 

You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked. 

“Do I mind what?” Angus asked. 

“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”

“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.” 

“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.” 

You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him. 

“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”    

“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly. 

You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up. 

“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief. 

“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”

“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”

“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?” 

“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?” 

“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.” 

“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”

“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?” 

“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.” 

“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”

“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.” 

You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone. 

“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?” 

“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”

“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.” 

“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!” 

“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said. 

“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” 

“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”

“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.” 

“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?” 

“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.” 

That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”

Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ. 

The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class. 

You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn’t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him. 

“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.” 

As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.” 

You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school. 

“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.” 

“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged. 

“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.” 

Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas. 

Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office. 

“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.” 

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.” 

Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.” 

“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”

“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.” 

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?” 

“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.” 

You nodded silently. 

“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.” 

“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. 

“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”

“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.” 

Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.” 

Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives. 

After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone. 

Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book. 

The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room. 

Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.” 

“Who?” you asked. 

“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.” 

“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.” 

“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled. 

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.” 

“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”

“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?” 

Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”

“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?” 

“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”

“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?” 

“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.” 

Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…” 

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!” 

“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said. 

“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?” 

“Anywhere but here!” 

You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment. 

You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open. 

Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great. 

But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath. 

“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you���?” 

“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap. 

Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently. 

“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.” 

“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—” 

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.” 

“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked. 

“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.” 

“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?” 

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.” 

“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.” 

The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway. 

“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?” 

“Shower,” you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.” 

“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.” 

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.” 

“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly. 

“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.” 

“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.” 

“Shut up,” you huffed. 

“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?” 

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room. 

Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline. 

By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep. 

That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway. 

You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily. 

“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.” 

“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.” 

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.” 

You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.” 

“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.” 

“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.” 

You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.” 

“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”

“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night. 

It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”

“Would you?” your mother asked. 

“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!” 

“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked. 

“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy—  I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?” 

“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end. 

“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!” 

“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.” 

Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.” 

“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”

“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.” 

“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked. 

“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into— 

“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.” 

“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?” 

You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled. 

Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.” 

You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled. 

“Guess so,” Angus echoed. 

The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it. 

You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours. 

Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch. 

Accurate, you countered. 

Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?” 

But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!” 

“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly. 

“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement. 

“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop. 

“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.” 

You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin. 

“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.” 

Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard. 

You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone. 

You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up. 

“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.” 

“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?” 

Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?” 

“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.” 

On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.” 

You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus. 

“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.” 

If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”. 

The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”

[mint-yooxgi]

{14} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang and Yunho)

Words: 8,901

Warnings: Allusion to assault/boundaries not being respected. Violence/Fighting. Brief moments of fatphobia and homophobia near the end (not done by any of the guys). I think that's all, honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Oof, it's really been forever since I've updated this series... my apologies for that! Honestly, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I might focus a bit of my attention to getting out a few more parts of this series over the next few weeks or so, but that's still to be decided. Anyways, a bit of a nicer, longer chapter update for you guys. I really hope you all like it! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Mini Masterlist

“Good morning.” A soft smile tugs at your lips as you greet the two males already waiting for you at the entrance to your village. 

As soon as they hear your voice, they’re both turning to face you. A satchel is slung over your one shoulder, the material a deep green in colour as you adjust the strap lightly.

“Morning.” The corner of Yunho’s lips twitch upwards.

All you receive from Yeosang in a stiff nod in response.

Perhaps he’s not a morning person.

“Ready to go?” You inquire, looking between them both.

A grunt is all you receive from the shorter male as the taller of the two nods in response. You quirk a brow.

The first few steps down the path and out of the village are silent, each male settling in on either side of you.

“Have you both eaten this morning?” You inquire casually.

“Joong wouldn’t let us leave unless we had something.” Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “He’s always looking out for us in that way.”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards as you nod faintly, “He’s a good clan leader.”

Little do you see the way Yeosang’s one eye twitches at your words.

“Have you eaten?” Yunho’s tone is light, sparing a glance at you out of the corner of his eyes as you continue down the path.

“I’m not much of a breakfast person.” You reply, a simple shrug to your shoulders.

“You should eat something.” Yeosang’s first words to you this morning are terse, the male staring straight ahead.

“I will. When I’m hungry.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards in amusement.

“How far is it to Rose Village?” Yunho asks, keeping pace with you as he spares a glance over at his brother on your opposite side.

“About a forty minute walk,” you hum. “Five, if we were to fly.”

“So, we’re walking because…?” Yeosang’s brow furrows, finally turning to you for the first time today.

“You should learn to not always rely on your wings,” You reply, somewhat stiffly. This time, it’s you who doesn’t meet either of their gazes as you stare straight ahead. “You may not always be able to use them.”

“Well, I think utilizing our legs will be good for us.” Yunho grins, purposefully stretching his arms above his head. “It’s nice to get out of the house every now and then.”

“Yes, the world is quite beautiful, if you’re brave enough to explore it.” You hum in agreement. “It has much to both offer and to teach us.”

You see understanding pass over both male’s features.

“Hwa told Joong that you said you’re willing to begin training us?” Yunho attempts not to look too eager, but there’s a certain gleam in his eyes that you still pick up on.

“If you are all still willing to be taught-“

“Yes.” Yeosang clears his throat, noting the way both you and Yunho immediately turn to look at him. “Please.”

“Very well.” You smile faintly. “When would you like to begin?”

“As soon as possible, if that’s alright with you.” Yunho responds, a sudden giddiness to his steps.

“That can be arranged.” You nod once, firmly. “We can start now, if you’d like?”

“While we’re walking?” Yunho’s brow furrows.

“While we’re walking.” You confirm. “Though, I must say, learning is a collaboration, so you shouldn’t hoard what I teach you to yourselves. You’ll never grow as a clan that way.”

Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat. “We understand.”

“No wonder San and Wooyoung have been so eager to share your teachings with us,” Yunho mumbles.

“My rule of thumb is: if you can teach someone else what you’ve learned after you’ve learnt it, then you understand the lesson being taught.” You say, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder lightly. “Everyone learns differently, and of course you can cater specifics to your own needs, but the base is usually the same.”

“You’ve been saying this whole time that you wouldn’t teach us, but you have been.” Yeosang observes. “Through them.”

“I take no credit for what you’ve learned from your brothers.” You shake your head. “That’s all from them.”

“Hwa’s got some catching up to do…” Yunho sighs, an amused quirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Something tells me that both him and Canary Man are getting the rundown on everything while we’re gone today.” You hum, somewhat knowingly.

“I don’t know how you did it, but there seems to have been a shift in Seonghwa over the past few days. Ever since he came back home from seeing you, it seems as if he’s calmer.” Yunho states, his gaze darting to you once more.

“All it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life,” you smile softly. “I simply extended a hand out to him, just as I wish someone did for me when I was in that situation. He was the one that accepted the offer.”

“When you were in that situation?” Yeosang is quick to catch on to your words.

“Your eldest and I are a lot more alike than you think.” You tell them. “I was in the exact same place as he was, once. I almost lost myself, and he could have, too. I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone go through what I went through without helping them.”

“You’re wise beyond your years.” Yunho praises.

“You make me sound so old,” your nose scrunches in distaste.

Yeosang actually lets out a puff of laughter at the way Yunho begins sputtering out apologies. 

“I’m just teasing you, Young One.” You chuckle. “I appreciate the compliment, all the same.”

The tips of his ears begin to turn red as he clamps his mouth shut.

Yeosang clears his throat. “Our training?”

“Ah, yes,” you nod. “How would you like to begin?”

“Shouldn’t you decide that for us?” Yunho quirks a brow, managing to get his bashfulness under control for the moment.

“I don’t want to be teaching you stuff you already know.” You shrug. “I’ve never seen you in a fight, nor do I know how strong your senses have become since the first time we met.”

“I thought you knew everything.” Yeosang blinks, almost innocently at you.

You laugh, “Not everything, Yeosang.”

You swear you see a shiver caress his spine as you say his name.

“Well, what do you know of our powers?” Yunho asks, nothing but curiosity shining in his eyes.

“If you’re incurring whether or not I know what type of dragon you are, Yunho, then you should be specific.” You shoot him a small look. “Speak of your own desires before you assume to know someone else’s.”

He swallows thickly. “Then, do you?”

“Do I, what?” You press, quirking a brow all the while.

“Know what type of powers I possess?”

“I do.” You hum.

He frowns, “How?”

You smile, almost tenderly. “Your youngest seems to enjoy talking about all of you to me as much as he enjoys talking about me to you.”

You hear Yeosang take in a deep breath beside you, almost exasperatedly.

“So, Jongho told you.” Yunho nods his understanding.

“For the most part,” you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag. “I can sense more than presences if I focus, you know.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Yunho breathes, a wondrous look shining in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeosang lets out another puff of air.

“Quite a few things, actually,” you confirm with an amused grin. “But that’s not important right now.”

“So, then,” Yunho hums, his body half turning more towards you in eagerness, “What’s my power?”

Nothing but mirth dances within your gaze as you see Yunho practically vibrating with excitement as he continues to walk alongside you. Yeosang seems to have slowed slightly, his shoulders curling in on himself as he crosses his arms over his chest. A small frown pulls at his features, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks irritated.

You meet Yunho’s gaze.

“Earth.” You state. “Rather, the minerals that fill the ground.”

Yunho smiles, nodding quite enthusiastically along with your words.

“It’s very fitting,” you add. “From what some of your brothers tell me, you are quite a stable rock in their lives.”

His blush returns, Yunho suddenly wiping his palms on the sides of his thighs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” you chuckle. “Thank your brothers.”

Yunho spares a brief glance at Yeosang, noticing how the aforementioned male looks so irate.

“What’s the matter, Yeo?” Yunho’s head tilts slightly in worry. “You were probably the second most excited after San when we learned she would teach us.”

At this, your brow quirks.

Heat immediately flares to Yeosang’s cheeks, the male avoiding your gaze as he mumbles out a ‘just tired.’

“Well, it is quite early,” you hum in agreement. “We’ll be at Rose Village soon, anyways.”

“Is there anything we can practice while we walk?” Yunho inquires eagerly.

“Hone your senses.” You reply, almost instantly. At the way they both spare a curious look at you, you’re quick to continue, “You’ve been doing so already, that much I can tell. However, it isn’t enough. You,” turning your sharp gaze to the side, you meet Yeosang’s eyes, “should be able to sense things with the breeze for miles. It should get to the point where you don’t even need to expel any excess energy to do so; it should become second nature.”

He nods, eyes sharpening as he focusses on sensing the wind almost immediately after you stop talking.

“And you,” you turn your pointed stare to Yunho who straightens almost immediately, “should be able to sense the vibrations in the earth as to where your enemies are. Know your surroundings; hone your senses.”

“How do we know if we’re doing it properly?” Yeosang questions, his lips slightly pursed in concentration.

“You will feel as if you’ve become one with your surroundings.” You reply. “Having the powers you do helps tremendously, for when the time is right, such elements will feel as if they are speaking to you. Train your ears to notice the slightest of sounds. Train yourself to notice every scent in an area, and pick up on when they shift even the faintest bit. Trust your senses, and rely on your instincts. You’ll soon begin to notice things that were never there before.”

“And we’re supposed to do this while walking?” Yeosang frowns.

“The constant sound of our feet crunching the gravel is a good practice for a monotonous sound.” You go on to say. “It is repetitive, so you should be able to drown it out. You won’t always have time to gather your bearings while standing still. Search for the abnormalities within the constant, and you’ll master your senses much quicker.”

“I think I get it,” Yunho nods, almost absentmindedly.

“I know you’ve both already been expanding your sensory reach.” You comment. “It’s time to take it a step further. I have faith in the both of you. Don’t just think,” your eyes flash briefly as your head whips to the side, a bird taking off from a branch in the next second, “feel.”

Two nods are all you receive in response as the males begin to thoroughly concentrate on their surroundings. You can tell how intently they’re focussing, for they stare straight ahead, standing to their full heights as they continue down the path with you.

A small breeze picks up, and you can feel the ground beneath your feet beginning to hum with life.

“Good,” you nod casually. “Once you both feel as if you have a better understanding of our surroundings, let me know. I’ll test you.”

“Test us?” Yeosang’s head tilts curiously.

“I’ll start easy on you,” you grin, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “For example, there’s a squirrel somewhere close by. Find it.”

Both of their heads whip off to the right, a brow squirrel running down the side of a tree in the next second.

“Good.” You nod approvingly. “This is exactly what I mean. Everything is interconnected, and by the time you hone your sense, nothing will escape you.”

They both nod, soft smiles pulling at their features.

“This is also a good way to discern what you need to work on to hide yourselves better.” You continue. “Scent, sound, sight: everything can both work for you, or against you.”

“Now that you mention it, I can smell you a lot more, Yeo.” Yunho’s nose scrunches.

A small laugh escapes you, and you see the aforementioned male’s cheeks dusting red.

“Yeah, well, the sound of your footfalls are like a giant upon the earth.” Yeosang snaps back.

Again, you chuckle, noticing how Yunho’s ears begin to turn red once more.

“See, these are things you both can work on to hide yourselves better.” You spare a glance at both of them. “If you really want to test yourselves, ask Jaemin to track you. He’s the best of our clan.”

You do not fail to miss the way they both stiffen at your words.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang grimaces slightly, shooting a pointed look towards Yunho. “Wouldn’t want to stink him out.”

“If you’re worried if you smell or not, you don’t.” You reply, noticing how he falters slightly in his steps. “You actually have quite a pleasant musk, like fresh juniper and oak.”

Instantly, Yeosang’s spine straightens, puffing his chest out slightly as the corner of his lips tug upwards smugly.

Yunho, on the other hand, begins to pout.

“We’re almost there,” you comment, motioning ahead on the path with your chin.

Glancing forward, the two males can just make out the entranceway of Rose Village. Flowers surround the grand archway, and faintly, they can both begin to smell the pungent aromas drifting through the air.

“Who’s a better tracker, then? You, or Jaemin?” Yunho attempts to change the subject, if only slightly.

Your knowing smile says it all. “Do not forget that I was the one who taught him everything he knows.”

“Then, we should just ask you to track us.” Yeosang replies.

You shake your head. “You’ll never learn that way, and I won’t always be around to train you. My Neos are your best options if you even want to attempt to best me at anything.”

“Which is why you sent Woo and San to Ten and Taeil to start.” Yeosang hums in understanding.

“Exactly.” You nod in confirmation. “You should partner up with them if you want to learn how to better utilize your powers. If you want to hone your strength, ask Jeno to train you. He’s our strongest fighter.”

“Something tells me we’ll have to go through them before we can even get to you.” Yunho spares a look at you out of the corner of his eyes.

You meet his gaze, the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“We’re here,” you pause just before the archway, observing the village with such a fond look in your eyes as you see people milling about just through the entrance. “Continue to hone your sense, you never know what you might learn.”

Without saying another word, you enter the village.

A smile pulls onto your features as you take in your surroundings. Many different stalls have been set up, lining the paths with different vendors selling their wares. There’s a fruit stand off to the side, a few different herb sellers, and multiple florists all chatting with potential customers.

Walking through the main road, you cannot help the wondrous shine in your eyes as you observe the daily lives of the townsfolk. That feeling of nostalgia that floods your senses almost serves to overwhelm you, your one hand tightening its grip on the strap of your satchel.

Little do you see the fond looks either dragon send your way.

“This way.” You voice lowly, shifting almost wistfully through the throngs of people towards the very back of the street.

Reaching the end of the row, the area opens up into a large square with a beautiful trickling fountain in the centre. Vines creep up the sides of the buildings, more flowers blooming from every angle and filling the space with vibrant colours of pink, purple, red, and orange.

There’s almost a renewed giddiness to your steps as you round a corner, more vendors lining the street. Your steps are precise and steady, heading directly to a specific counter right at the end of the row.

Silently, the two males follow but a step behind.

Two females can be seen conversing behind the stall counter. Both are quite tall in stature with dark skin. One wears her hair in tight braids, the tips resting just below her shoulders. The other has shorter hair, tight curls adorning the strands. Around their stand, three rambunctious children - two girls, one male - can be seen running around, hitting each other with different flower stalks.

Stopping in her tracks, one of the children seems to take notice of you approaching the stand. A large, dramatic gasp escapes her, causing her siblings and mothers to turn their heads in your direction.

“Auntie!” The little girl squeals, immediately running over to you with her arms outstretched.

The two males share a look as you wrap the little girl in your arms, picking her up and hugging her tightly as she giggles loudly.

“My goodness, you’ve gotten so big!” You grin, holding her against your hip as she rests her hands on your shoulders.

“What about me!” The other little girl says, tugging at your shirt lightly as she stands beside you.

“Yeah!” The little boy adds, standing tall with his hands on his hips. “It’s not fair you always pick up Delilah first!”

“Well, I do have two arms, Marcus,” you chuckle, shifting Delilah over slightly so you can pat his head affectionately.

Just as you go to reach for him, he runs away.

“No, wait! I’m too old for you to be picking me up!” He whines, hiding behind the stall counter with his parents.

“I’m not!” The other little girl says, running right into your arms so you can pick her up.

A moment later, and you’ve hoisted her into your free arm, giggles falling from her lips as she places a big kiss onto your cheek.

“It’s good to see you again,” the woman with the braids smiles kindly, an overtly affectionate look shining in her eyes as she stares at the scene before her.

“We’ve all missed you.” The other woman says, standing just a smidge taller than her wife beside her.

“I’ve missed you all, too.” You return their fond looks, nuzzling your forehead affectionately against the girl’s own.

They giggle in response, Delilah leaning into you further.

“Auntie, did you bring us anything?” She inquires innocently, blinking at you all the while.

“You know I always do.” You chuckle fondly, placing both girls back on their feet for the time being. “Jungwoo was very adamant about me giving these to you.”

“Oh, they’re from Uncle Jungwoo?” Marcus’ eyes instantly light up, coming back around the counter to stand before you.

Sliding the strap of the bag off your shoulder, you open the satchel. Reaching inside, you pull out three small wooden figurines. The deer you hand to Delilah, the eagle to Marcus, and the little dragon figurine you hand to the final little girl.

“Wow,” she gasps, nothing but pure awe in her eyes as she turns the figure around and around in her hands.

“Minnie, what do we say to your Auntie?” The woman with the braids smiles knowingly.

Immediately, the girl looks up into your eyes, a bright smile on her lips, “Thank you, Auntie!”

You chuckle, “Don’t thank me, thank your Uncle Jungwoo.”

“Auntie,” Marcus begins lowly, leaning into you as if discussing something secret. His eyes briefly dart past you to the two males still standing silently behind you. “Are you cheating on Uncle Jungwoo?”

A boisterous laugh escapes both you and the two females still standing behind the counter.

“Oh, no, Marcus,” you pat his arm assuringly. “Your Uncle Jungwoo and I are not together.”

“So, then, are these your new boyfriends?” Minnies ask, walking up to Yunho and tugging on the side of his pants. “Are you married to my Auntie now?”

You swear Yunho’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head as he splutters over his own words.

“No, Minnie,” you chuckle, “We’re not married.”

“Why not?” Minnie turns back to you, blinking almost owlishly.

“Minnie, relationships don’t work like that,” the taller of the two ladies shakes her head endearingly.

“But you and mommy are married!” She scurries over to the both of them.

“That’s because we’ve known each other for a very long time.” The woman answers.

“Uncle Jungwoo and Auntie have known each other for a very long time.” Marcus voices.

“Not as long as Uncle Renjun, or Uncle Taeyong, though.” Delilah adds, matter-of-factly.

“My Neos are like family to me,” you explain softly. “Like my brothers.”

“What about Uncle Kun?” Minnie asks innocently.

“Children, that’s enough.” A sharp look is given to the three of them by the woman with the braids.

“It’s alright, Kamille.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You crouch down so you’re eye level with Minnie. “Uncle Kun finally found his special someone, and I’m happy for him. We agreed to just stay friends.”

“His loss,” the taller of the two mumbles.

“Trisha,” a sharp look is sent her way by you.

She shrugs, “Just saying.”

“Auntie! We have something for you!” Delilah exclaims excitedly, scurrying into the house behind the stall with the other two children in tow as they all remember their gifts for you.

You stand back to your full height, a curious quirk to your one brow.

The two women offer you knowing looks in response. Except, once they see what each of the children hold on their way back out of the house, they attempt to stop them. Only, they don’t manage to catch them.

“Mommy said these were your favourites, once.” Minnie extends a few flowers out to you, both Marcus and Delilah standing on either side of her doing the same.

Your breath catches in your throat as you see the children each holding out a few stems of bluebells to you with smiles on their faces.

A soft call of your name from Kamille sounds from behind the children. “We’re so sorry, we told them-“

“Did you grow these yourselves?” You cut her off, not even sparing her a look as your eyes begin to water.

Three proud nods greet your blurry vision, and your first tear falls. Softly, you grab the flowers from their hands.

“Look at you three!” You smile through the pain in your heart which suffocates you from the inside out. “You’ll be giving your mother’s a run for their money pretty soon. These flowers are beautiful!”

Happy giggles reach your ears, the girls twirling eagerly from side to side as Marcus avoids your gaze.

“Okay, children, why don’t you go grab some snacks for all of us at the bakery.” Trisha grabs a few coins and hands then to Marcus. “We have some things to talk about with your Aunt, here.”

“Okay!” Three cheers are heard as they all rush off down the street, disappearing into the crowd.

“I’ll go with them.” Yunho offers, already following after the three children.

Kamille simply raises an eyebrow.

“He heard the word ‘bakery,’ and now that’s all he can think about.” Yeosang sighs.

“I don’t blame him,” you wipe your tears from your cheeks, gazing almost longingly down at the bouquet of bluebells in your hand. “Rose Village bakery is one of the best around for miles. Seeing as he bakes, he probably wants to check it out.”

“Ah, found yourself a baker this time, have you?” Trisha jokes.

“I haven’t found myself anything.” You shake your head, a slight huff escaping you.

Both women finally step out from behind their little stall.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kamille says as she wraps her arms around you, making sure to avoid your back all the while.

“We weren’t lying when we said we’ve missed you,” this time, it’s Trisha’s turn to wrap you in her arms, hugging you tightly as you do the same back.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You pat her back affectionately.

“I thought you said you were going to come visit more often,” Kamille shoots you a playfully accusatory look.

“Yes, well,” you chuckle, motioning to Yeosang with your eyes, “Some things came up.”

“Oh, where are our manners?” Kamille immediately turns to the single dragon by your side. “I’m Kamille, and this is Trisha. We’re the Delaris’. Those three you saw earlier are our kids, Marcus, Delilah, and Minnie.”

Yeosang bows respectfully, introducing himself and his brother in the next moment.

“Yes, we’ve heard whispers about you Halas.” Trisha crosses her arms over her chest, a minor quirk to her brow.

“How did you-“

“The forest speaks in many tongues.” Kamille replies easily, moving behind her stall and rummaging around in a bin.

“You’re dragons?” Yeosang sounds more surprised than he figures he should be at this point.

“Not quite.” Trisha grins knowingly.

“They’re my oldest caster friends.” You explain, placing the flowers onto the counter before you.

Understanding passes across his features.

“Seriously, we cannot apologize enough about the flowers,” Trisha grimaces, her arms falling back to her sides.

“It’s alright,” you smile weakly. “At least they weren’t daisies.”

“But these were meant to replace daisies with-“

“Trisha!” Kamille’s sharp voice cuts her wife off as she pops back up behind the stand.

Both women spare a worried look in your direction, only serving to make Yeosang even more confused than he already is. At the pained expression you wear, nothing but concern pulls at his features, stepping the slightest bit closer to you. All he wants to do is ease your distress in whatever ways he can, his earlier irritation long since forgotten now.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received bluebells from anyone.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. Gently, one of your fingers traces over a bloom. “They don’t grow on this side of the fjord. Naturally, at least.”

“We haven’t sensed any of them crossing over in quite a long time.” Kamille comments.

“They shouldn’t.” You meet her gaze, your eyes flashing. “Nor will they ever again.”

“What about Bokkie?” Trisha’s brow furrows slightly.

You simply shake your head in response.

Yeosang frowns.

“Anyways,” Kamille clears her throat. “I take it you’re here for your usual order?”

“I can’t come to see my old friends?” You tease.

“Hey!” Trisha protests. “We’re not that old!”

“You’re almost as old as I am.” You chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Give or take about a hundred years.” Kamille mumbles, a playful roll to her eyes.

Yeosang’s eyes widen in shock.

“Oh, you’ve gone and stunned the poor baby dragon.” Trisha tuts, turning to meet Yeosang’s gaze in the next second. “Us witches know quite a few tricks to staying youthful, you know.”

“Of course, it helps to keep your nose out of trouble.” Kamille adds.

“You two, staying out of trouble?” You quirk a brow. “Unlikely.”

The two women share a look.

“Guilty.” Trisha chuckles, shooting a wink in your direction. “Now, come with me and I’ll help you get those herbs you like so much.”

A simple nod is all you offer her in response, following her into the house and chatting idly as you leave Yeosang with Kamille.

“Are you sure the kid is going to be okay with Kami by himself?” Trisha asks from over her shoulder.

“I heard that!” Kamille calls after you both.

You chuckle, “I’m quite certain Yeosang can handle himself.

Little do you see how the aforementioned male straightens slightly, the corner of his lip twitching upwards faintly.

“Alright,” Trisha chuckles, guiding you into the back room of the house where their rarer herbs reside. “Well, as always, you’re welcome to anything and everything you’d like.”

“I literally cannot thank you enough,” you smile, already harvesting some thistle wart from its pot. “Oh, actually, before I forget, I brought something for the two of you, as well.”

Pausing in your movements, you reach into your satchel once more and pull out two leather-bound books, and two small carved crystals.

“I finished compiling that tome you asked me the last time, and I think you’ll enjoy the other one, too. The crystals are a gift from me to you, as a thank you for everything you two have done.” You place each item carefully into her own hands. “They’re also good luck charms.”

Trisha places both books onto a side table before carefully examining the carved crystals. One is in the shape of an obelisk, symbols carved along its side. The other is smooth like a river stone, perfectly oval in shaped. Both are milky white in colour, and her eyes flash with understanding.

“Thank you,” she bows deeply before wrapping you in another hug. “You’ve always done more for this family than we deserve.”

“Nonsense,” you shake your head, holding her at arms length once she pulls away. “You guys are my family, not just My Neos.”

“Then, you know if you ever need anything, all you need to do is ask, right?” She quirks a brow at you.

“Of course.” You nod, quite firmly at her. “Know that the same is true of me with you.”

Trisha returns your smile.

A moment later, and you return to harvesting the plants scattered around the room.

“So, are you going to tell us about you and those Hala dragons of yours?” She inquires, somewhat knowingly.

“There’s nothing major, really.” You shrug, placing some herbs into your satchel. “I consider them my friends, for my part.”

“There hasn’t been a raid from them since they attempted to harm your village.” She observes, and at your mildly surprised look, she clarifies, “Renjun’s been by a few times with Johnny.”

“Has he, now?” Understanding crosses your features. “Well, they’ve certainly calmed themselves since I’ve met them.”

“Any of which your doing?” She leans against the side table, tilting her head in your direction.

“I do not control other’s actions.” Comes your quick reply, but even she can tell you’re now avoiding her gaze.

“Normally Taeyong joins you on a day like today.” She observes. “Yet, two Halas are here instead. Either he knows something we don’t, or he’s currently on his deathbed.”

“If you’re suggesting Taeyong set me up, you’d sadly be mistaken.” You reply, glancing up at her from the plant you’re currently harvesting. “The two of them simply convinced him to let them take his place. Which reminds me… Yongie said he wanted some more of your roses, if you’d be so kind.”

“I’ll let Kamille know,” Trisha hums, watching you carefully.

A moment of silence.

“I’m going to train them.”

Trisha blinks at you in shock. She clears her throat, “Are you sure?”

“I said I would.” Comes your resolute answer.

“You haven’t offered to train anyone since the Wolves-“

“I know.” You cut her off, exhaling a deep sigh as you stand back to your full height. “I can’t keep living my life in the shadow of his betrayal, Trish. I’m tired of letting it control me.”

“This is about more than just training, isn’t it?” Her tone is soft as she takes a step towards you, placing a gentle hand onto the side of your arm in comfort.

“It’s been over fifty years, Trish-“ your voice catches in your throat as she begins rubbing your arm soothingly. Tears begin to gather once more in your eyes, your own hands clinging desperately to the strap of your satchel. “I don’t want to watch my life pass by from the outside anymore. I want to start living again, and maybe-“ you swallow thickly, “maybe even learn to love again.”

She smiles softly at you, giving your arm a light squeeze.

“And honestly, Trisha,” you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m terrified. I want to believe him- I want to believe in him so badly, it hurts, but I don’t know if I can. And then what happened with Kun…” You trail off. “I can’t go through another-“ you choke on a sob, “I can’t-“

“I know, sweetie,” she coos, shushing you all the while as she wraps you in her embrace. “I know.”

“The most terrifying thought, though, is that I am.” You whisper lowly. “I am starting to believe him.”

“The one outside?” Her brow furrows slightly.

“No, his brother.” You shake your head.

“The baker?”

“No, their youngest.” You clarify.

A noise of understanding echoes in her throat.

“Why do you-“

“I think it’s more than just the youngest that’s making you believe.” She observes. “Sure, he may have been the catalyst, but I know you. Even you would have had a difficult time agreeing to let anyone but Taeyong come with you to see us today. Hell, even bringing them to this festival is something you would have denied to anyone whom you didn’t trust.”

You take a moment to consider her words. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you should do. Only you can decide that for yourself.” She says, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “What I can tell you is this: you are not the same person you were all those years ago. You know both Kami and I strongly believe in things always happening for a reason, and perhaps what happened with Kun was meant to happen so you could find them. Perhaps letting yourself believe won’t be such a bad thing.”

You nod lightly.

“Besides, I can sense the magic of this youngest’s Drygg Promise all over you.” She tilts her head knowingly. “It’s the strongest, most sincere form of magic I’ve ever seen from anybody. Even from you.”

“He is quite convincing.” You chuckle fondly.

“Convincing, or sincere?” She squeezes your arm once more. “Come on, the kids should be back by now.”

“I’ll be out in a minute, I just have a few more herbs to get.” You tell her, noticing how she begins to head towards the front.

A call of her name from you stops her.

“Thank you.” You meet her gaze, clearing your throat lightly as you compose yourself. “For everything.”

Trisha smiles. “You know we’re always here for you. I think it’s time you let some new people in, as well.”

Without another word, or waiting for a response from you for that matter, she leaves back out through the front door.

Perhaps she’s right. Maybe it is time for you to allow yourself to grow and let go of your past.

Finally, you think you’re ready to move on.

Stepping back out of the house a few minutes later, you see both women conversing with Yeosang. The tips of his ears are dusted a faint red, and even you can see the way he seemingly lights up as soon as he sees you.

“There you are,” Kamille nudges your side gently as you come to stand beside her. “Yeosang was worried you got lost.”

“I was not!” His eyes widen, greatly scandalized by Kamille’s words.

“Right.” Trisha laughs. “And you weren’t just thinking about storming past us to make sure she was still alive.”

The way he begins to splutter says it all.

“It’s okay,” Trisha pats him affectionately on his arm. “We know the signs all too well.”

“What signs?” Yeosang shifts his gaze between them, a confused, almost defensive furrow to his brow.

The two women share a look. “Denial.”

“The kids aren’t back yet?” You cut in, glancing around the area briefly and not seeing them, or a much taller male in sight.

“Not yet,” Kamille shakes her head, a worried pull to her lips downwards.

“Not that we don’t trust your brother,” Trisha adds, sparing a brief look at Yeosang, “but they should have been back by now.”

Your head tilts, and you notice Yeosang’s does, too.

“Mommy!” A cry is heard just through the crowd, and you see both Delilah and Marcus pushing their way through the throngs of people.

Immediately, you intercept the two children, their parents at your side.

“What’s wrong?” A frown is prominent on Kamille’s face as she picks Delilah up.

“Where’s Minnie?” Trisha is quick to grab ahold of Marcus who clings onto her side.

“That new bakery lady won’t leave Yuyu alone.” Delilah pouts.

“She’s worse than when you and mom start making kissey faces at one another.” Marcus’ nose scrunches in distaste.

“Minnie’s trying to save him, but it’s not working.” Delilah adds.

“I thought Rylie was married.” Kamille says, more to herself than anything.

“I’m sure Yunho can handle a few flirtatious comments sent his way.” Yeosang chuckles. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

“He popular like that, or something?” Trisha quirks a brow, somewhat teasingly.

“Or something.” Yeosang grumbles.

“Didn’t take you to be one to get jealous,” you hum, and you notice how his cheeks begin to dust pink for the nth time today.

“I’m not jealous.” He grumbles, gaze flicking over to you every now and then.

“Mom!” Delilah whines. “This is serious! Yuyu is in big trouble!”

“We’ll go check it out. Don’t worry.” You assure them.

“Hurry!” Marcus begins to tug Trisha down the street. “There’s bad energy coming from him.”

The three of you share a look.

Almost instantly, you and the two witches take off down the row, pushing your way through the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Yeosang manages to just keep pace with you.

“Marcus can sense shifts in energies, it’s his specialty ever since he was small. If he gets a bad feeling, almost always something bad will happen.” You explain quickly. “Your brother may be in danger.”

Rounding a street corner, the crowd thins slightly. You can see the awning of the bakery in sight, and you hurry your pace, the others following behind.

The bell above the shop door jingles as you six enter the shop. The owner, Nina, sends you a warm smile from her chair behind the counter. Once she adjusts her glasses, she’s offering you a friendly wave in recognition. Age, it seems, is catching up with her. 

You have just enough time to wave back before your attention is drawn to the side where you see Yunho backed into a corner, the new girl - Rylie - holding him hostage with her arm beside his shoulder. The way she’s leaning into him, and his stiff demeanour, says it all.

“Mommy!” Winnie scoots out from between them, panic clear on her features.

Kamille is quick to embrace the girl, cooing at her to calm her down.

“Rylie.” Trisha’s stern call of her name has the women sighing dramatically before turning her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Still, she does not move from her position.

“What?” Nothing but irritation lines her voice as her gaze flicks over to your little group.

“Tell her to stop bothering Uncle Yuyu!” Winnie crosses her arms, frown prominent on her features.

Your eyebrows raise slightly at the name she calls him, mirth dancing on your features.

“You heard the little lady.” You address the woman before you, noticing how she purposefully trails her gaze over you in disgust.

“If he wanted me to stop, he would have pushed me away by now.” She retorts, rather pointedly.

“Actually, I’ve been asking you to give me space this whole time-“

“Shhh,” she turns quickly, placing a finger over his lips as she leans into him. “You don’t have to lie to save her pride. I know I’m a better match for you than she is.”

You blink, not being able to keep the appalled expression off of your features. Honestly, you’re more amused than anything, but you contain your laugh of disbelief for now.

You share a look with both Kamille and Trisha. You smirk.

If this is how this woman wants to play, then you’ll gladly succumb to her games.

“What makes you think I enjoy the company of men?” You quirk a brow, beginning to slowly step towards this woman. The way your suddenly hooded gaze remains locked on her has her faltering for a moment. “You caught my eye since I first stepped foot in this little bakery, here.”

“What are you doing?” Her brow furrows, and she takes a step back and away from Yunho as you creep closer.

“It seems to me you enjoy assertive people.” You continue to approach, backing her into the corner and away from Yunho. “I’m just emanating you.”

“Don’t come near me.” She pushes herself against the wall.

You stop in your tracks, leaving a good two feet of distance between your body and hers. You blink at her in curiosity, tilting your head all the same.

“If you wanted me to stop, you would push me away.” You throw her words back at her, making sure never to lay a single finger on her the whole while.

“Just leave me alone.” She spits.

“To be clear, you’re asking me to stop?” You inquire, staring straight into her eyes expectantly.

“Yes!” She hisses. “Do you not understand the word ‘no’?”

Your eyebrows raise, but you remain silent. Your expression says it all.

A scowl is pulling at her features in the next moment as she pushes past you, knocking into your shoulder quite harshly. “Fucking bitch.”

The sound of the bell jingling above the door is the only indication you have that she’s left.

“Oh, I suppose it is time for her break.” Nina hums, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Seriously, Nina,” Kamille sighs. “You should find better employees.”

The old woman either doesn’t hear her, or chooses not to answer as she begins humming a soft tune to herself.

You shake you head, turning to face Yunho in the next second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” his reply is somewhat breathless as he stares at you, blinking to clear his vision soon after. He clears his throat, seemingly coming back to reality. “Yeah.”

Winnie immediately runs over to Yunho, grabbing his hand in hers.

“Uncle Yuyu, you promised to buy us flowers!” She begins tugging him towards the entrance.

You quirk a brow, “Upgraded to Uncle now, are you?”

He grins, a red creeping onto his ears. “It was all them.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yeosang pouting.

“Hey kids, why don’t you drag Uncle Yeo along with you, too.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards knowingly.

“Okay!” Delilah immediately rushes over to Yeosang, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door now, too.

“Have fun!” You wave them off, seeing as Marcus now holds the door open for them all.

The moment the door swings shut, the three of you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Crisis averted.” Kamille sighs, sitting herself down in one of the chairs nearest to her.

“Rylie has been a piece of work since she started here last month.” Trisha sits opposite Kamille, you joining them quickly.

“She new to town?” You inquire, noting how quiet the bakery is for a day like today.

“Yeah, her and her husband moved here about two months ago. She’s stirring up trouble wherever she goes, and we usually have to clean up the mess.” Trisha frowns. “Flirts with every male she sees, then usually her husband steps in to ‘defend what’s his’.”

You grimace, “Sounds like they’re both a piece of work.”

“You’re telling us.” Kamille nods. “We’ve had to step in a number of times before things get too out of hand. He’s already received two major warnings.”

“One more and we kick them out of here for good.” Trisha says. “Perks of being the heads of council.”

“You two run this village flawlessly,” you comment. “Of course you have final say. I’m honestly surprised you still let them live here.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ve become too lenient in our old age.” Kamille hums, the three of you sharing a laugh.

A few minutes later, the three of you are sharing a pastry, talking idly as you wait for the kids and the two males to return. The more you converse with your friends, the more your shoulders relax. Though, with the sound of the bell chiming above the door, and the ominous presence you feel entering the bakery, that happiness soon plummets into unease.

“That’s her.” You hear a harsh whisper behind you. “That’s the bitch that touched me.”

You nearly roll your eyes, but at the way the two women in front of you stiffen, you opt to sigh instead.

“Oi, you!” A loud voice draws your attention to the front of the bakery to see a burly man standing there. His arms are crossed as Rylie practically clings to his side, sneering in your direction. “You think you can just go around laying your grubby paws on my wife?”

“Actually, Sir, I never touched your wife.” You reply calmly, resting an arm over the back of your chair as you turn to face him. “It was your wife who continuously threw herself at one of my own friends, even after he repeatedly asked her kindly to stop.”

“So, you’re a fucking bitch and a liar?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Should have expected that from a fat queer such as yourself.”

Your head tilts slowly in understanding. “Do you have more of an issue with me because I’m fat, or because I’m queer?”

“A smartass, too? Damn, I’m going to enjoy knocking your teeth in.” He cracks his knuckles. “No, I have an issue with you. You came onto my wife, and now you’re going to regret it.”

“I have no desire to shatter your already fragile masculinity any further, Sir.” You reply. “I’m sorry you seem to be stuck playing your wife’s desperate, attention seeking games. The two of you should strive to do better.”

“How dare you!” Rylie seethes, but is soon consoled by her husband.

“Shh, Honey, I’ve got this.” He pats her shoulder before rounding on you. His furious expression says it all. “How dare you!”

“Oh, I think we’ve got a pair of parrots on our hands.” Trisha remarks. “Too bad they can’t remember any of the important lessons.”

“Yeah, like ‘final strike and you’re out.’” Kamille hums, shooting the two of them a pointed look.

“Like hell you can kick us out of this town.” The male spits, brow creased as his face begins to turn bright red in anger.

“We can, and we will.” Trisha replies almost instantly, no remorse at all in her tone. “We’ve already warned you sufficiently. Please do not make us mad. You will not like what happens.”

“Are you threatening me?” He straightens, hands balling into fists at his sides.

You stand calmly to your feet, returning the plate to the counter where you see Nina has managed to doze off. Soft snores fall from her lips, and you spare her a small smile before turning to the couple fuming at the doorway.

“Depends,” you hum, leaning back on the counter as your cross your arms over your chest. “Do you feel threatened?”

“By you?” The man scoffs. “Not likely.”

“You should be.” You smile, and you notice them grimace slightly at how unnerving you suddenly look. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my nieces and nephew are waiting for us to return to the festival.”

Just then, the bell above the door chimes and in walk both Yunho and Yeosang with the children in tow. A white pansy is tucked into Yeosang’s hair, just behind his ear. It seems to have been placed there very carefully so as to display his birthmark, and you just know Minnie probably had something to do with that, seeing as he holds her against his hip. Marcus holds onto Yeosang’s free hand, a yellow daffodil, a pink rose, and a sprig of lilac held in Marcus’ opposite hand. On Yunho’s back rests Delilah, her giggling suddenly cut short as she peeks over his shoulder to observe the tense scene before them.

“Auntie…” Winnie’s worried gaze is suddenly on you, and you notice how Marcus begins to tremble as he looks at the man before him.

“It’s okay, Winnie,” you smile assuringly. “We were just on our way out to meet you when Rylie returned with this fine gentleman here.”

The couple stiffens.

“Bad man.” Marcus begins mumbling, taking a wary step backwards. “You’re a bad man.”

“Don’t worry, Marcus.” You begin to usher both Kamille and Trisha out, you following close behind. “We’re finished here, anyways.”

Marcus immediately clings onto Kamille as she walks passed, Trisha taking Winnie from Yeosang’s hold instantly. You don’t even spare another look at the couple as you exit the bakery, both Yeosang and Yunho observing you carefully.

Only, you don’t manage to get very far outside of the shop.

“Don’t you walk away from me, you bitch.” The man grabs your arm, quite harshly at that.

Two low growls get muffled by the bustling sounds of the festival around you.

“Sir, I recommend you release my arm before you come to regret it.” You state calmly, angling your body away from him as a crowd begins to form around you.

“The only thing I’ll come to regret is not putting your smartass in your place.” He spits, tightening his hold over your arm.

You sigh, shaking your head as you slide you bag off of your opposite arm. “Trish, be a dear and hold my bag.”

Wordlessly, she grabs it from you.

You turn your full attention back to the man in front of you.

“This is your last warning,” you meet his gaze with a dark look of your own and you notice how he falters slightly. “Release me before you lose this hand of yours.”

“Like you could ever harm me.”  He guffaws, purposely raising his voice for the now growing crowd.

At the side, both Yunho and Yeosang stand, tense. They can barely keep their eyes from flashing, both males beginning to tremble in rage the longer they observe this scene going on before them.

Faintly, you begin to hear whispers around you, all in defence and worry of you and how often this man seems to pick fights with absolutely anybody.

“I don’t think you’ll enjoy it very much when I knock you flat on your ass.” You comment.

He scoffs, “I’d like to see you try!”

The moment those words are out of his mouth you have him pinned on the ground, a light cloud of dust floating in the air. Your knee digs harshly into the man’s back, his arm twisted unnaturally behind him as you shove his face into the dirt.

Rylie’s hands come up to cover her mouth in shock, a silence settling around the crowd.

“I warned you.” You hum, almost condescendingly at the male beneath you.

A scowl is all you receive in response.

“Normally, I would have broken your hand for touching me, but I think the fact that you’re being kicked out of this village is punishment enough.” You spit quite harshly. “After all, you’ll need all the strength you can get in order to vacate the premises as quickly as possible.”

A moment of silence before a small cheer is erupting from the crowd, murmurs of glee reaching your ears. Many even go so far as to exclaim that this couple’s reign of terror is over.

“You bitch!” Rylie shrieks, running over to attempt to tackle you off of her husband.

Easily, you dodge her, watching as she trips over her husband’s legs and lands in the dirt beside him. Not even a second later, you stand, dusting off your knees all the while.

“Be grateful this is all that you’ve received from me.” You crack your neck, grabbing your bag back from Trisha in one fluid motion. “Now, I don’t want to hear you’ve bothered anyone else ever again, and you better hope I never see your faces around here again. You won’t like what becomes of it, then.”

Slowly, the man pushes himself to his feet, Rylie helping him stand all the while.

“Get back here, cunt!” He bellows, closing the distance between the both of you in a few great bounds and swinging for the back of your head with his fist.

A sickening crunch sounds around the area, followed by a pained filled cry and a high pitched shriek of horror.

Turning reveals Yeosang crushing the man’s fist in his grip, his eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them before turning their natural gold. A snarl paints his lips as the man desperately attempts to break free from Yeosang’s grip, blood beginning to drip slowly into the dirt at the male’s feet.

“If you ever lay a hand on My Fated again,” Yeosang growls, voice ringing out loud and clear through the deadly silence that now surrounds the area. His eyes flash. “I’ll kill you.”

[jrooc]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday!✨

Oh hi! It’s another tag game. Thanks for the tags @mybrainismelted @ian-galagher @creepkinginc @darlingian @juliakayyy @sgtmickeyslaughter

how is your day going? Long but it’s been a good one.

are you okay? Lol no. My life’s a mess.

what is your favourite shade of your favourite colour? Green probably a teal, a pine or an Persian?

are you single? Nope. I’m married.

are you happy about that? Big questions today Chani! Yeah I am most days. But I’m a very independent person so I wish I could be single when I wanted. Like could I be married for 6 months out of the year? Could I have days of the week off? Relationships are hard, man.

what age do you feel in your brain? Still 30 maybe? Although that was an awful year for me. So maybe 31.

do you feel like the good times are behind you or ahead of you? JFC there better be some to come cause life is long and things are hard

do you have a best friend? I have 2

did you have a childhood pet? Yes! We had a dog and a few cats.

do you sing or whistle around the house? I can’t whistle. I can’t sing either but it doesn’t always stop me.

do you light candles or incense? Candles sometimes

are you busy Friday night? My neighbor might swing by for a glass of wine but that sounds like a lot. I already want to cancel and just read fics

if you were a circus performer which act would you be in? Haha you’ve clearly never seen how uncoordinated I am

what is your favourite outfit? Ripped jeans, black tank top and a cute jacket

what's the last thing you created? I’ve spent this whole week writing. Working on my GGE and the next lightning chapter

what is your favourite fic or book of all time? Oof. Impossible questions but book.. it used to be Oryx and Crake. But it’s probably Station Eleven or Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel.

Fics… there’s a lot but my all time love is Old Rules for New Side Pieces by @goodkwuestion

what are you looking forward to? Some friend plans this summer probably. Cycling outdoors

what can put you immediately in a better mood? Fanfiction and our little Community

do you like hugs? Sometimes. I’m awkward about them unless it’s genuine and the right moment.

what is something you wish people understood about you? I’m always sarcastic. I swear a lot and I can be a dick sometimes. I come across a little hard around the edges but I’m actually pretty soft.

Tagging @such-a-barbarian @ms-moonlight-inn @bellezabelize @doshiart @transmurderbug @transmickey @rayrayor @heymrspatel @deedala @stocious @solitarycreaturesthey @francesrose3 @mickeysgaymom @gallavichsuperfan @suzy-queued

[asleepinawell]

while they've definitely improved some of that, the npcs will always run to the middle for that particular stack in holminster (similar situation with the armadillo in malikah's well). I suspect it's to prevent them from dropping the aoe puddle in the middle of the safe area since it would then be harder to program the AI to avoid that during the next part but idk. by comparison, they do come to you for the line stack in the last boss and in some other places. I'm not sure what the logic was in the hydaelyn fight because I rage quit after that since urianger had already murdered me and I didn't want to start over

and speaking of that armadillo boss, it does a proximity mine in the center followed by a donut aoe. so you need to get out to the edge until the proximity goes off and then in to the center get out of the donut one. the scions will always run into the center before the proximity goes off. it doesn't seem to be that big a problem except sometimes the healer will run directly on top of the proximity and instantly die. I've had urianger do this 3-4 times now. I just know to bring alisaie along now if I don't have a rez myself

in general, learning the scion AI behaviors in trusts is kinda like keeping track of another mechanic since in a lot of instances they're programmed to go to one specific place. for the second boss in vanaspati they all seem to have a set water bubble to run to and will get hit if you take their bubble

despite that, I do like that the supports/trusts let you follow the scions around to learn mechanics and I think it's great for people who are nervous about doing something new with other people and messing it up (like me!), but there's definitely some fun quirks you need to get used to. like the fact they'll often stand exactly one pixel outside of an attack so if you're following them and aren't directly on top of them you may still get hit 😔

though the flip side of that is that sometimes I simply do not learn the mechanics. ktisis hyberboreia is one I run exclusively in support (love the elpis squad) unless I'm playing with someone else and the first time I went in with real people I realized I had no clue how the snake man's head attacks worked because I usually just followed venat around like a lost baby bird. also everyone went to a different spot for the cross line aoes and I was Distressed™ because I was so used to where the npcs went

ALSO (minor 6.3 dungeon spoilers will try to leave vague) in the latest dungeon, on the last boss, there's a super confusing bunch of line and circle aoes that vanish before they go off and the scions will sometimes just go stand directly in one and fuck you over. thanks team!!!!

and then there's the thing where I swear sometimes urianger will get an aoe spread and just run full speed right at me. that guy. but really it's mostly that the npcs are programmed to go to a specific location with those and once you know it's not a big deal but man it can lead to some hilarious disasters

the funniest moment I ever had in a trust was in the hydaelyn fight when I got a stack marker and all the scions came running over to me and then. then. at the very last second every single one of them ran out from under the stack to group in the middle (AI anticipating the next attack I presume) and the stack went off .0001 seconds after they ABANDONED me before I could catch up and the wol's mom resundered the shit out of my poor lizard boy. the sheer and utter betrayal of that moment. exquisite. hydaelyn was like yeah you guys should probably just get on the moon ship and gtfo

[that-was-anticlimactic]

you get it so much i could genuinely spend hours talking about bakugo and midoriya’s characters and their development and how genuinely well written they are and then an exploration of their dynamic on top of that and why it’s one of the best in media atm AND I MEAN THAT but people are so busy tripping over themselves to be like ‘UHHH ☝🏼😂 MHA IS CRINGE’ or the fans themselves absolutely butchering the characters (bakugo in particular is like a toxic wasteland now do not approach do not stop within a 10 mile radius etc) that it’s pointless and it makes me so MADDDD anyway hiiii corey i put mha in ur inbox do u still think im hot

YES YES YES!!! EXACTLY HELLA!!!

and like... as far as midoriya and bakugou are concerned, they're like... forced into almost Every fic i read :/ like i'm out here looking for class a being a family fics without midoriya or bakugou trauma or hero worship is that SO MUCH TO ASK!!! i'll be under the denki-centric tag bc he's my special lil boy and like bakugou being in most of them i Get bc of the bakusquad bUT like denki is Also Smart and, imo, understand his quirk better than midoriya, so why do we need to force midoriya in there to explain how denki's quirk works tO HIM??? or like. people will bring up midoriya's past in like every fic that isn't about him or bakugou's kidnapping (which like fair ik that was traumatic for literally everyone but i'm not looking for balugou fics) and i'm just. i want sero hanta fics. not sero is worried about midoriya fics.

oof okay i have a lot to say apparently. am a lil bitter bc my favorite characters are denki, sero, kodai, and ojirou (and the bakusquad like i LOVE kiri) and finding they centric fics without just... let's talk about bakugou and midoiya is HARD they have PLENTY of they centric fics!!! i don;t mind them Being in other fics, but like... do we Haveto mention how amazing and special they are in Every Fic??? like... they're not the only ones who work hard and made it into class a??? so did literally everyone else??? midoriya isn't the only one who was bullied or gets anxious sometimes (and people make him like... weirdly anxious too like must protect him and i'm just... ugh) and midoriya isn't the only sunshine in class a (horikoshi literally said that denki is the glue that holds the class together but, no, everyne go ahead and make it mido...) and bakugou isn't the only one who's experienced something traumatic nor is he the only one who cares about others but is bad at showing it. and they aren't the only contenders for #1 hero and anyone in class a could beat them in a spar like... i don't think they're unbeatable??? denki could beat them. ojirou could beat them. satou could beat them. shouji. hagakure. kouda. aoyama. sero. mina. jirou. the list goes on. and they could beat all the people i just listed any day too!!! it just... it doesn't always have to be like "gosh i'll never be a hero like deku" like??? you got in the Same class he did.

ahem. anyways. uhhhhhh i LOVE midoriya and bakugou. hate the way fans act like they're the only characters that matter. yes this angry rant is bc i was looking for denki centric fics the other day and most of them were more midoriya centric even though that wasn't tagged and denki centric was. when you're reading a fic about the trauma of someone other than mido and baku and then one of them has to take over and be like "listen to My trauma" and suddenly it's aboyt THem.

oKAY DONE FOR REAL

anyways hella i still think you're hot in fact i think it makes you Even Hotter

(also no shame i literally made the password to last week's vocab quiz "SERO HANTA" like in all caps bc of the leaks and bc i love him.)

sorry about the angry rant about the two main characters do you still think i'm hot-

[bagelrites]

Prompt: Muffinteers playing tag. :D

Immediately thought of IRL Manhunt, because of the "that would just be a game of tag" jokes, so enjoy some fantasizing about IRL Manhunt vs. 3 hunters :)

Dream puts a hand over his chest, feeling the smooth ball of the ender eye, still intact in his armor. That was a close call, but he’s pretty sure he threw them off by doubling back through the ditch by the river, and once he takes a few deep breaths to slow his heartbeat, he can hear that the forest around him is quiet, the hunters now out of ear shot.

They’ve been running around this stretch of Florida wilderness for a couple of hours now, and Dream has found it shockingly difficult to fulfill his win conditions. The game might need a few tweaks to make this work for videos, but there is no way he’s calling this off, now. Instead, his mind is racing, trying to figure out a way to turn this around on the hunters and make an epic end to the manhunt—in which he wins, of course.

He carefully weaves between the trees, making note of the new terrain. He doesn’t think he’s been to this part of the forest yet, so there may still be some unplundered supplies around. When a couple minutes of searching turns up nothing, however, he starts to get the feeling that even if he hasn’t been here yet, the hunters have. 

That’s when he hears talking ahead. He immediately ducks behind a large tree, peering out just enough to get a grasp on who’s there.

“Sapnap, he didn’t go this way,” George is saying. “We need to turn around.”

“Yeah, he totally did. I can see it in the leaves,” Sapnap answers.

“Oh my god. You and your leaves.”

Dream starts backing up, paying attention to where he puts his feet so he doesn’t make a sound to alert them.

Unfortunately from him, it’s not the sound that does it.

“There he is!” Sapnap suddenly shouts, and Dream curses under his breath, taking off in a sprint. His friends are after him, but with his head start and his longer legs, he’s pretty sure he’ll lose them again.

And then he sees a fence ahead. He can’t jump it—he knows the other side is private property, and as cool as it would be to have some “out of bounds” maneuvers in the video, he also doesn’t want headlines about Minecraft YouTuber Dream Arrested for Trespassing. So, his only choice is to pivot and run alongside the fence, which unfortunately gives Sapnap and George the opportunity to gain some ground by cutting across the hypotenuse of the triangular path Dream’s just taken.

“Oooh! We’re catching up!” George teases, though he sounds seriously out of breath. Sapnap is being quiet, which means he’s probably running for real and almost certainly getting a lot closer than George is. It’s moments like these Dream wishes he could go into F5 mode in real life and see just where he is.

“Come here!” Sapnap shouts, and the sound is a lot closer than Dream would have expected, which makes him shout in panic and blindly sprint ahead. 

This must be what he wanted, though, because suddenly Dream’s lost his footing, feet plunging into a shallow ditch covered over with leaves.

“Oof! What the…?” He catches himself on his hands and immediately starts scrambling to get back up, when someone pops out from behind the nearest tree and tackles him onto his back.

“Hey—what the fuck!?” He tries to push them off, but he’s so surprised, his reflexes aren’t fast enough, and before he can even register who’s done it, the ender eye is ripped from his chest.

“I did it!” none other than BadBoyHalo shouts, ponytail bouncing as he jumps up and down, the round eye raised in his triumphant fist.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Dream groans and covers his face, listening to his friends shriek and holler as they catch up to start celebrating with Bad.

“Hunters 1, Dream zero!” Sapnap gloats.

“Yeah! We’re the GOATs of IRL Manhunt!” George says.

“Tell me again why we invited Bad?” Dream grumbles behind his hands.

“Hey!” Bad pouts, and George laughs his head off.

“Because someone said ‘oh, two hunters will be too easy! We have to have at least three!’” he says, mocking Dream with a high-pitched voice.

“How did you even—did you guys build this trap?” Dream asks, finally standing up to get a better view at what did him in.

“Yeah. We found a shovel over here like way back at the beginning of the game and Bad said we should make a leaf trap,” Sapnap explains.

“I was the only one who could remember where it was, so I got to kill you,” Bad says, showing off the eye again. “Plus, it was my idea to give you the illusion of safety once you got close, so we had time to split up and corral you without you realizing.”

“Damn. You guys actually thought this through,” Dream says. “I didn’t think you were capable of that.”

“Excuse me?” Bad feigns offense again, and Dream laughs, shaking his head. 

“Kidding,” he says, and holds out his hand. “Good game, Bad. You beat me fair and square.”

“Aww. You played good, too, Dream.” Bad shakes his hand, smiling up at him with pride in his eyes. “It just wasn’t your day.”

[peskellence]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 3K

*Hey, this is Finn Treacher's voicemail. Either I've got a hot date, or I’m working for a change. Leave a message*

Gavin put down the phone, moving to the next number on his list. After several hours, the monotony of the task was beginning to drain him. His focus waned as his mind drifted to other, more personal concerns. 

*You've reached the voicemail of Gideon Heith. Call back when I'm home.*

He'd spoken with several possible leads, but none had been overly promising. Some had vehemently denied their involvement in any criminal activity - refusing to cooperate and hanging up on him. Others had been surprisingly cooperative, but with no prior offences or convictions, Gavin doubted they could be linked to the case.

*Frank here. If you want to leave a message, go ahead, but I ain't gonna listen*

He could only pray that one of their otherwise innocuous leads might be able to point them in the right direction. 

*...Hello?* 

Thank God - "Hi, this is Detective Gavin Reed, Detroit Police Department. We wondered if you might be able to come in to answer a few questions." 

*...Hello? Is anyone there?* 

"Gavin Reed. Detroit Police", he repeated, a little louder this time. "We wanted to ask you some questions about -"

*Ha, I'm just messing with you, buddy. Leave a message after the tone*. 

The detective held his breath, grip tightening on the phone, before hanging it up in aggravation. He allowed his body to slump forward and let out a dismaying groan. Trapped in his funk, he failed to notice the soft footsteps approaching from behind. His shoulders were then grabbed by a pair of firm, slender hands. A set of lips drew closer to his ear before exclaiming a thunderous "Boo!." 

Gavin flinched, albeit for no other reason other than the noise. He lifted his head to stare morosely at the would-be assailant, "Go away, Ti. I'm busy." 

The officer whistled at the icy reception. "Oof, someone's touchy today." Standing reclined against the desk, she leant forward for a closer examination of her friend. "Looks like you could do with a break - or three. When was the last time you slept?" 

"Last night. In my bed." 

"Not buying it", Tina shamelessly prodded underneath his eyes, tutting disapprovingly as she did, "You've got more bags than an airport conveyor belt."

"Was there any purpose to your visit today? Or do you just take joy in pissing me off?"

"A little bit of both" She grinned before pulling up an available chair. "I just wanted to see how you were getting on. Seems like an interesting case."

"Interesting is not how I'd describe it. 'Bane of my existence' is more like it."

"You've got a lot of leads, at least" Tina said, glancing down at the paper on the desk. "Something's got to come out of one of them."

"Easy for you to say. I've been stuck at this desk for three fucking hours, and all I've got to show for it is a headache."

"Would it not be quicker for Nines to help you? Pretty sure he could just upload the numbers and call them all simultaneously."

Gavin sneered resentfully, "Yeah, that'd be much easier. If the plastic prick hadn't gone a-wall."

Tina, who had picked up a pen and began clicking it absentmindedly, promptly stopped. "...Nines? Really?" 

"Yes, really." 

"The same Nines that does overtime every day? The one whose idea of a 'break' is to deep clean the canteen?" 

"I can't see any android detectives skulking around. Can you?"

Ignoring his friend's bewildered expression, the detective reluctantly picked up the list and typed in the next number. He waited fractiously as the dial tone rang - until a crisp voice eagerly informed him that he had reached another voicemail. Having reached the limits of his already tenuous patience, he shoved the phone back on its dock. 

"It seems a bit unusual", Tina pondered, rubbing at her neck. "Are you sure you didn't do anything to upset him?"

"Why do you always assume it's my fault?" Gavin complained, "It's been acting weird since yesterday. Ever since I told it that it couldn't come over for a goddamn sleepover." 

Tina was clearly intrigued by this, as her eyes sparkled with excitement. Leaning forward on her hands, she batted her eyelashes teasingly. "In what context would you be having a sleepover? Gavin Reed, you sly dog."

" Don't - it's nothing like that", he responded firmly. "I told it about the Tiff thing, and now it's decided it wants to appoint itself as my live-in cat sitter. It's weird."

"He can see that you're struggling, and he's trying to help. What's so weird about that? Besides, it seems like a good idea." 

Gavin hated to admit that there was some truth in that statement. While strange and unwanted, Nines' suggestion was based on reasonably solid logic. Given the redundancy of sleep, it did make sense that the android would be a prime candidate to monitor things overnight. Still, the offer did not infer anything more than a methodic calculation.

"Let's not delude ourselves that an android is capable of empathy. It wouldn't be offering if it didn't think it could get something out of it." 

Tina chuckled. "You're such a pessimist. He would get something out of it. The satisfaction of helping a friend."

The detective bristled at the suggestion. Friendship implied a level of closeness that he shared with very few. An android was hardly top of the list. Besides, Nines itself had expressed its own opposition to the sentiment.

"Right, I'm done here." Gavin pushed himself up from his desk with a low grunt, "Getting some lunch. Wanna come with?"

Before Tina could respond, the walkie-talkie in her belt crackled to life, accompanied by a muffled voice. 

*All Central Units respond: 1200 in progress at 245 New Street. Shots fired, 10-13 requesting backup. Repeat, 1200 at 245 New Street, requesting backup. Over*

Tina brought the device to her lips, acknowledging the dispatcher, "Badge number 5195 10-19 to 245 New Street." She looked back to Gavin and shrugged her shoulders in apology. "Sorry, I gotta go."

"Fine, fuck off then", he retorted, gesturing his hand in a dismissive motion, "Didn't want you to come, anyway. Was just being polite."

"Love you too", she winked playfully before making a swift beeline for the exit. Gavin readied himself to leave as well before hesitating momentarily. 

He wondered if he ought to find Nines, at least to tell it that he was stepping out. He dismissed the notion, however, rationalising that the android had made zero effort to inform him of his whereabouts - and it was only fair that he should return the favour. 

While adopting a steady speed out of the station, Gavin was quickly swept up by the wave of hurried pedestrians. He struggled to match pace, not wanting to cause an obstruction, but feeling as though his legs may give out at any moment. In search of a detour, he turned off at the end of the street and towards the entrance of a nearby park. It would add significant time to his journey, but the reduced crowding and access to benches more than made up for that.

The walk was calm this time of year, without boisterous families or noisy wildlife to disturb the peace. The expanse of bare, leafless foliage seemed to sparkle in the sun as the rays bounced off films of sleet.

It could have been his favourite season - Winter - if it wasn't for the damn cold. 

Gavin hardly noticed the time that had passed. Before he knew it, he had arrived at his usual pitstop. Gary greeted him warmly, pulling his attention away from the TV he had mounted on the wall of his van. "Afternoon, Detective. Didn't bring your scary friend with you today?" 

Any modicum of a good mood he had gained during his walk vanished immediately. He was beginning to develop an impassioned hatred for that particular word. 

"Not my friend. Work partner," he said, promptly changing the subject. "I'll have the usual, but can you throw in a XL soda? And a packet of Twizzlers. I need the sugar."

"Coming right up" Gary turned away to prepare the order as Gavin idled in place, curiously watching the horse race being broadcasted on the large plasma screen. 

"Nice TV. Where'd you get it?"

The other man beamed at the question, puffing out his chest. "Won big on the last race. £4k win on a £40 bet,." He leant over his shoulder, flashing Gavin a sly wink. "Probably shouldn't tell a cop this...but I've got a guy. Sixth sense for winners if you know what I mean. You want in?" 

Gavin propped an elbow onto the counter, resting his head in his hand. "Can't be taking chances. I'm broke enough as it is. 'Bout to be a lot more broke. My cat is having babies." 

"Ouch", The vendor flipped up a burger from the greasy stove, dropping it haphazardly into a bun. "Just wait until you start having actual babies. That shit is really expensive." 

"Don't think I'm in much danger of that, but thanks." 

"Hey, don't worry about it. Good-looking guy with a steady job? I'm sure you'll find a lady eventually."

Paying for his food, Gavin exhausted the mental checklist of all the possible things he could say. Some responses were harsh and scathing, others intended to confuse and mystify.

"That'd be a first", he muttered vaguely, not feeling up to the argument. 

As Gary slid him his tray, he briskly snatched it up and left to find a table. He hadn't been walking for long when he felt his legs starting to buckle. Physical exhaustion had gotten the better of him as he began to tip backwards, head spinning. A pair of hands shot out to support him, holding him steady by the armpits.

"Whoa there, you okay?" 

The gruff voice was all-too-familiar, and Gavin felt himself wither in annoyance. Just what he needed. Hank-fucking-Anderson and his plastic golden child. When he turned, however, he was surprised to see that the Lieutenant was standing alone. 

"Jeez, Reed." He whistled, giving Gavin a similar look to the one Tina had bestowed earlier. "Party a little too hard last night?"

I wish.

"I'm fine. Let me go."

"Sure you are", Hank drawled, subtly shaking his head. "I couldn't help but overhear that you've got pet troubles? Glad I got Sumo fixed when I did. No chance of any whoopsies with his lucky lady friends." 

"Do you make a habit of listening in on other people's conversations?" Gavin pulled himself away, smoothing out his jacket. "Didn't realise you were so nosy. Thought that was Connor's department." 

"Hey, I was sittin' 10 feet away from you. There wasn't much I could do about that," Hank gestured to the empty seat at the end of his table. "Now, pull up a chair before you pass out. Because I'm not doing mouth-to-mouth if you croak." 

"Good. I'd rather you leave me to die", Gavin said, nose wrinkled with disgust. With seldom energy to continue standing, much less walk to another table, He reluctantly took the seat. Hank mirrored the action, sitting down opposite him to continue his lunch. 

"If I'd known it would cause me this much grief, I would have had the bitch spayed" Gavin shoved a handful of fries into his mouth as he muttered quiet complaints, "She's an indoor cat from now until forever." 

"Kinda played yourself there, didn't ya? I'm sure Nines would be willing to help if you asked. He's pretty good with animals ."

Gavin let out a grunt of displeasure, almost choking as he did. "Is there some fucking conspiracy here that I don't know about? I already told it myself: 'No'. I don't need to be taken care of. I'm managing just fine." 

"Yeah, you seem to be thriving. Seriously though, you're refusing his help because...?" 

"Because it's a smug, insufferable asshole."

"Huh", Hank said, mouth agape. "Funny. Connor seemed to think you two were turning a corner." 

"Connor thought wrong", he snapped back. "Where is he anyway? You usually keep him on a pretty short leash."

"Hey, watch it", the older man warned. "The kid can go wherever he wants. I don't own him." 

"Could've fooled me." Gavin grimaced before shoving more food in his mouth. "So what, he and Nines have mother's meetings about what a dick I am?"  

"Cool it, Reed. I promise that Nines only ever has good things to say about you." 

"Bullshit."

Hank chuckled under his breath, stirring the ice in his now-finished drink. "Well, yeah, at first, it weren't exactly glowing praise. He thought you were a complete jackass. Over time, though, it changed." 

Gavin piqued up at this, "What do you mean 'changed'?"

"Ehh, he's found it difficult - the whole deviancy thing. Connor and I have tried to help, but it's hard to get through... with you, it's different. He seems different. Almost like he finds you comforting'."

"What about me could it possibly find comforting?" 

"Hell if I know", Hank grumbled back, frowning in disapproval. "I just think he feels like you 'get it' more than we do. Sure, we've been through it, but sometimes it's nice to meet someone who's in the same place. Helps build a connection." 

Pausing mid-chew, Gavin's attention snapped to Hank as his mind began to race. He should have known the damn machine wouldn't be able to keep its mouth shut. About his dad, his home life, his shitty family - "How much has it said about me?"

"There it is again", the Lieutenant sighed, leaning back in his chair. "He hasn't said anything , at least not to me. I just figured there's gotta be something to account for that charming personality of yours."   

"Mind your own business, Grandpa."

"Or you're just a prick. What do I know?" 

There was a moment of silence as Gavin processed what the other had just said. Did Nines really think that the two of them shared some weird, fucked-up connection?

No, of course not. Anderson had gone soft and was starting to project emotions onto machines. That was all - the naive bastard. 

"So what about Connor then?" Gavin pressed, leaning forward on his chair. "What have they been talking about?"

"They don't talk so much as they do that interface thing. Their minds connect, and they communicate through feelings and memories. It's sort of beautiful, in a weird sci-fi way."

"Well, if they could keep me out of their demented mild melds, that would be great. Thanks."

"Okay, I think I've reached my Reed limit for the day", The Lieutenant stood up with a sigh, dusting the crumbs off his slacks, "I'm done, and it looks like you are too. Wanna lift back to the station?" 

Gavin looked down at his tray, horrified (and somewhat impressed) to see that he had, in fact, cleared his meal in the few minutes they had been talking. Save for the Twizzlers and a few sips of soda. Pocketing the candy, he stood up, stretching his back. "Yeah, sure. Lead the way." 

As the two re-entered the station, the first thing that caught Gavin's eye was a pair of near-identical androids standing by his desk. Their hands were pressed palm-to-palm, and the skin retracted. They stared at each other, saying nothing, but their LEDs lit up in a frenzied light show. Eventually, one of their heads turned and caught a glimpse of the human officers standing at the doorway. 

Connor was the one who had spotted them, as well as being the first to move his hand. He smiled warmly at Hank and Gavin - but with a particular focus on the latter. "Detective Reed", he said smoothly, striding towards him with an apparent purpose. "I was wondering if we could have a word."

Nines appeared horrified at the sudden development, its LED shifting to red as it followed quickly behind. "RK800, that won't be necessary." 

"It will only take a moment."

"Connor", Hank said firmly, narrowing his eyes at his partner. "What the hell are you doing?"

The android appeared a little put out by the sudden address, ceasing his advance on Gavin as his confident smile began to drop. "Nothing, I was just seeing if I may be of assistance to -"

Hank held up a hand, cutting him off. "I think it's probably best if we leave Gavin and Nines to it. Don'tcha agree?"

Connor paused, his cheeks tinged blue with embarrassment. He shuffled on the balls of his feet for a while, appearing conflicted, before slowly nodding his head "Okay, Hank."

As quickly as the bizarre interaction had commenced, it had ended. Connor, guided by Hank, quietly shuffled off to his desk, and the tension left in their wake was almost suffocating. 

Gavin gawked at his partner, waiting for it to speak. "What the hell was that all about?"

"It's not important," Nines said back quickly, although the vibrant crimson that illuminated its temple told a different story. "RK800 worries for me. Unnecessarily."

"And what would he need to be worried about?" 

"As I said, it's not important."

Gavin grumbled, quickly losing patience and interest. "Whatever. I've started on the numbers on that list we got from CyberLife, but nothing promising yet. Sure would help if I had a supercomputer who could make the calls for me." 

"I see, of course." The tone was cold and overly formal, even by the android's usual standards. Its movements were stiff as if concealing some hidden shame or disappointment. Stirring something unpleasant within Gavin, he felt the resolve he had been trying to maintain slowly melt away. 

"...Look, I've been thinking -" 

Apparently, he was the naive bastard.

 "- about your offer to look after Tiff. I could use the sleep, so if you wanted to help out a bit, I guess that would be okay." 

Nines looked entirely floored by this. Its usually steely eyes blown to almost comedic proportions "Detective?"

"I'm saying you can stay the night. Asshole." 

[angelanimedesaray]

📚,🥐, and 🦋for the truth and dare game!

Hellooo! It's good to see you, thank you so much for gracing my inbox 🥰 and for an ask game too, ack, it's been a good week 🥰

Okay! Yes! The questions.

📚 What's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

Okay, two things. 1) I am super old school, i like physical books, physical notes, i have three corkboars, index cards on pins with tags handing from them, stacks of partially used notebooks, and sticky notes literally covering the wall and desk and bookshelf within arms reach of the computer. So this is not a notes app entry, cause i dont use it, its the last sticky note i put on the wall. And 2) this is going to be spoilers for one of my series because it was dialogue that occurred to me for near endgame of one of my big stories. But I think the fact that it's massively out of context even for those actively reading the series because it's so far down the road HELPS.

So, having said that, what it was, is:

Erwin, thank you, for allowing me to step into the light and take this journey. Hange, I'm forever grateful for all your help in unfurling my wings. And Levi...everything I have ever been and could be, I give to you. The wind lifting my wings ever higher.

🥐 Name one internet reference that will always make you laugh.

Honestly, any good placed reference will always land right with me. I'm the fool that always quotes road work ahead, I can't help it lol. I'm also a sucker for Sanders Vines. BUT for this I chose a Tumblr post about video games from back in the day that is 100000% my playstyle in dnd and video games hahahaha (which one depends on how badly actual stealth goes haha).

"I love that there are two approaches to stealth games. It's either no bodies for the guards to notice or no guards left to notice the bodies." "No one can call the cops if there's no one to call the cops."

🦋 Share something that has been on your heart and mind lately.

Oof, um...it's hard not to get heavy on this one 😅 I mean, I've been thinking a LOT about the deeper topics of life, ngl, which makes sense with a lot of what's going on in my life right now. My dad's been having a lot of medical issues pop up, mothers day is tomorrow and I've been ruminating on a pretty deep letter to write her to go with some flowers I bought her, my brother LITERALLY just graduated high school and I spent the ceremony comforting my little sister whose distraught and told me she's going to be the only one left, like...oof. lots of thoughts about life right now on the one hand. On the other, funnily enough, just yesterday I was talking to my dad, who watched aot as well, and we were talking about the overarching theme of breaking cycles of hatred and how it unfortunately went over the heads of a LOT of people who end up in a twist of bitter irony further illustrating the point 🤷‍♀️, and that was a pretty deep conversation because of my dad's life experiences and what he teaches for a living now, so yeah. Pfft, just "light" over coke floats and tuxedo Sundays in a hidden corner ma and pop ice cream shop conversation, you know 😅

Coincidentally, this question comes at an interesting weekend cause it's been the weekend for heavy topics in Angel's head so far, and there's still a whole nother day to get through 😅

Thanks for the questions!!! I think this is the most attention an ask game I've posted has gotten and I'm loving it 🥰

Ask Game Here

[thejudgingtrash]

May I Introduce You To My Beloved Wife?

I swear to god, I will write this fic once I'm done with Coleoidea. Both have been haunting me for the past 2-3 years! I don't know how you smartphone girlies do it but writing on a phone is straight up hell. Anyways. Random scene, not proof-read, yadda yadda

“And now you’re taking a nap and let grandma do the dishes, right?” Sally smiled at her grandson whose giggles warmed her heart.

Annabeth and Percy truly gave her the biggest gift possible, even if by accident. She had hoped that she’d have a few grandchildren roaming around and now she finally had one. With Percy’s current trajectories and managing his father’s legacy she wasn’t sure how soon her only child would start a family.

The bright boy in her arms blinked slowly as he was truly succumbing into his sleep. He stopped squirming. That was until a shrill mechanical chime woke him up. Gone were any signs of tiredness. “Oh, I wonder who that could be… I didn’t order anything.” Sally asked herself, still carrying her grandchild as she went ahead to open the door.

“Sally! Tengo que decirte todo que ha pasado en mi viaje!” It was her beloved neighbor Esperanza Valdez who had come back from her two-year long trip through Central and South America, visiting dozens of relatives and friends along the way. Retirement had its perks. And as a former car mechanic shop owner, the elder woman had saved up a lot of money.

“Eh?” Esperanza halted, her brown eyes widening as she realized that her friend wasn’t alone. Sally held a toddler in her arms with fine dark brown curls and sea-green eyes that curiously observed her. “Y de quien es este bébé?”

Sally grinned widely and reassuringly rocked the child in her arms. He did not have to fear anyone. “Este es mi nieto.”

“Qué?!” Esperanza nearly yelled. “Percy ya tiene hijos?!”

Sally nodded and she felt how her vision got blurry. The candy shop employee blinked them away. She was so happy that her small family grew in size. Neither her son nor she were alone anymore. For the most part.

“Mira eso… el tiempo vuele.” It was Esperanza’s turn of choking up as she patted the toddler’s cheek, making him crack a smile. “Y tiene la misma cara de su papa.”

“Si,” Sally admitted, a tad bit sadder. “Y de su abuelo. Los mismos ojitos.”

It pained her. It truly pained her. Poseidon, wherever he was be, never had the chance of seeing her son grow up. And now he would never be able to greet his descendants. Percy had transferred all of his father’s looks downright into his own child.

Sally’s former love was gone, while his legacy finally began to thrive. No matter how awful he was at times, many times. Not knowing one’s family, a fate she knew too well… Sally did not wish such a fate to anyone.

Big oof. Anyways, will drop one shot + probably post the first ~10 pre-written chapters of The Nymph (you can thank Pearl for that) whilst working on Coleoidea in the near future. I really hoped to get to post stuff sooner :s

Writing tags: 1 | 2

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

OC Tag Game

got tagged again by @shivunin! <3 You're right that this is a curse to do fsdkljfls, i am indecisive af so prepare for rambling

Favorite OC: Wow starting with a mean one :( It rotates and switches between all of them, but Liam and June probably occupy the spot the most often

Newest OC: Uhh i guess Robin? They are In My Brain but i have yet to do a playthrough with them lol

Oldest OC: In general? Des xD (she was a warrior cats oc i made when i was 11 but she's still very dear to me <3). For DA, it's Neira! I played he games in order & she was my first Warden :)

Meanest OC: June for sure lol. Both in that she is very blunt and does not belive in lying for the sake of being nice, and in that she is the most likely to be actively mean on purpose. 2nd Place goes to Noya because she can also be really nasty when she wants to be.

Softest OC: Oof hard pick :') I have come to terms with the fact that i am unable to make OCs who are not softies in some way or another, and they definitely all are. But.. i wanna say Kala? Because she has a big nature vs nurture contrast, and once she has the chance to she is actually very soft, and very deliberately. In that she craves a lot of closeness with loved ones, but also in that she sees the beauty in the small things, and in being determined to spite cruelty through small kindnesses.

Most Aloof/Standoffish OC: Also Kala xD She is. Not sociable at all fsdfjk and is also not overly involved; yes she cares, but she also knows how to distance herself.

Dumbest (affectionate) OC: I wouldn't call any of them *dumb*, but at the same time, all of them are at least A Little Bit dumb <3 Liam is the most likely to have brainlag or head empty moments, June is the one who will do dumb things despite knowing better and/or not think things through, Lilian will have internal "yeah i got this :)" (she has not got this) moments the most, and so on.

Smartest OC: Tie between Ari and June! At least for the traditional definition of smart lol. Ari is very booksmart, is very good at remembering things, processing concrete information, thinking ahead and making elaborate plans. His thoughts are always 5 steps ahead and sometimes it feels like he is thinking for three people at once. As long as he has precise information to work with, he's gonna make it work.

June is the opposite, she is really bad at encyclopedia type knowledge or planning but is super good at conceptualising abstract ideas, at making connections and bending thoughts this way and that, at combining ideas and theorising. She has a good intuition for how conceptual ideas might work in practice, and a creative approach to problem solving.

Bonus shoutout to Var'renan for being the most people-smart. They're very perceptive and very good at reading people and social cues.

OC I'd Probably Be Friends With: Well, i would say i'd probably vibe with Renan or Kala or Ari, but irl i seem attract all the extroverts, so chances are i'd end up being friends with Noya or June or Adriel lmao. Ig Adriel would be the best bet though. Cos she's energetic but not overly so, she'd still be totally down to just hang out and chill; we're both chatty but awkward talkera sometimes and would probably hype each other up really well when we get exited

edit: bruh why did tumblr delete part of the post (part of the last bullet point & the tags got cut off)???? I Do Not have the energy to put in all the tags again, so if you read this, you can consider yourself tagged! If you do it please do tag me, i'd love to read more about all your OCs :3

2nd edit because. It cut off the last category again smh (not the text after this time tho??) and idk why but i am also Not gonna rewrite that again e-e

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

2022 Writing Review

Tagged by: @ttimbradford on the LAST DAY OF THE YEAR because she wants me to scramble

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 14

2. Word count posted for the year: don't make me say it 386,717

3. Fandoms I wrote for: 9-1-1, The Witcher

4. Pairings: Buddie and Geraskier

5. Story with the most: 

kudos: The Best Lie is a Truth (My Best Mask is My Face) - 2,149 bookmarks: same as above - 997 comment threads: Let My Ink Stain Your Pages - 671

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): This is a difficult question. I'm proud of a few stories I worked on this year - Direct Deposit and Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) had me pushing myself as a writer and delving into topics I knew wouldn't necessarily be popular. However I think I have to go with In the Gray You are Golden, one of those magical moments where the inspiration hits like something divine, the words flow like water, and it all comes together.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): Don't Play Games (Come My Way) - I'm a perfectionist and while I can't quite articulate why, I don't feel like I quite nailed this story the way I should have. Like I just missed the bulls-eye.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: @mistmarauder never fails to delight me and make my day with her in-depth comments and general screeching. I think her responses to Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) and In the Gray You are Golden are my favorites, actually, although I know Curl Up In My Heart and Let Me Keep You is probably her favorite of mine from this year (no one is immune to cat!Buck).

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: Honestly, writing I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See was more of a challenge than I expected. I just had a lot going on in my real life so finding time and focus to work on it was difficult.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Buck babysitting Chris during the tsunami and while Eddie goes to fight club in I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See didn't come to me ahead of time - it just happened as I was writing and I literally stopped and stared into the distance for a second in delighted surprise.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: Oof. This was a tough one. Probably a tie between the entire segment of Eddie's thoughts when he's shot in Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) - the fic wasn't quite where I wanted it to be until I wrote that segment and then went back and sprinkled those quotes throughout the fic, turning the fic into one long flashback (which the reader doesn't realize until they reach the shooting). A small excerpt is here:

The thing he never told anyone is when his lover was unnamed and fed from him all he thought about was love. Love is poured into his mouth and he swallows and he b r e a t h e s.

The other would be frankly the entirety of In the Gray You are Golden but I really liked how I incorporated the tsunami/Eddie Begins into the fic with the flash flood and how I wrote it happening. I got a lot of comments saying how much the last few lines hit them like a gut punch and I'm so proud of that:

Christopher’s mouth is right at Buck’s ear. “Dad?” Buck starts shaking. He clenches his entire body to get it to stop. He shakes his head. Christopher is a child of the wasteland. He knows how to be silent when he cries.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: I wrote situations where there's a lot of trauma and emotions going on (including during sex) and got a bit darker in that then I usually do, I wrote a couple tropes I hadn't thought I'd ever write or hadn't written before (such as a Zombie Apocalypse AU), I dipped my toe into HTML coding for the emails in I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See, and I incorporated poetry into a fic with Eddie's mental landscape as he's shot in Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) (yes fun fact I approached that segment as a poem).

13. How do you hope to grow next year: I hope to continue to find new and interesting situations to play with for my annual Halloween fics.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc): @extasiswings who always reassured and encouraged me when I was doubting myself - and of course she co-wrote A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words (But Love is Undefinable) with me.

Can't believe I almost forgot @catdadeddie whose Castle AU moodboard inspired me to write a fic that ended up being over 100k words long goddamn you Nova.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: If it did, I wouldn't be admitting it.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: If you don't make yourself take breaks to recharge your brain is going to make you and trust me, you will not like how that goes. Give yourself time to rest.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: Nothing in the fanfic world. I actually woke up with ideas for next Halloween and wrote them down so I wouldn't forget them, but those won't be until October which is a full ten months away.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@extasiswings @kitkatpancakestack @tripleaxeldiaz

[dangerous-disposition]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

Okay i was tagged by @anzelsilver @nburkhardt @steddieas-shegoes @spicysix & @xenon-demon, and i was tagged in another Get To Know You meme that i've done several times by @yournowheregirl so i'm tagging u in this one bc these are new questions!!

Are you named after anyone? Okay so my name is a little funny. My legal first name is rly similar to my paternal grandmother's name, but i was not named after her. My maternal grandmother pitched a HUGE fit about it, so my legal middle name is my maternal grandmother's name. My family has gone no contact with my maternal grandmother bc she sucks ass as a human being. Now, i'm transitioning, so my first name i chose myself, but my new middle name when i officially change it? is the masculine spelling of my paternal grandmother's name. and yes, approximately 75% of this decision is rooted in spite (i also went like 80% of my life thus far going by that specific name and i didn't want to get rid of it completely)

When was the last time you cried? Oof.............a few weeks ago, Saturn by Sleeping At Last came on when I was already feeling sad about something.

Do you have kids? I have one kid!! He's 11!!! Tomorrow is his last day of grade 5!!!!

Do you use sarcasm a lot? way too muuuuuuuch omg

What sports do you play/have you played? I played basketball in elementary, and like.... i was in marching band and that was treated like a sport in high school, like i could've gotten a Letterman jacket for it and everything

What’s the first thing you notice about people? uh idk it rly depends? like most of the time it's how they're treating others

What’s your eye color? Greeeeen

Scary movies or happy endings? happy endings!!!!

Any special talents? idk like...writing???? idk if that counts as special

Where were you born? Calgary, AB

What are your hobbies? writing and playing viddy gaems

Do you have pets? 2 puppers! Chester, 10yo black lab, and Gamgee, almost 3yo cockapoo

How tall are you? 5'10"

Favorite subject in school? World History in grade 9, but in general, English

Dream job? I actually really like my current career in hospitality, but if i had to choose something else, i really wanted to be an archaeologist at one point haha

Okay now I'm not tagging anyone outright but if you wanna do this go right ahead!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

[valdiis]

Tagged: Altitis Edition

So as it turns out, @catscratching, I had not yet been tagged in this one, but was sort of hoping I would be!

Favorite | This is like asking me to choose which child is best. Rude. I have two answers for this. The first is Hadeon, the character that brought me to tumblr when my WoW guild at the time gave up forums for this format. Hadeon is a tragic, sad, beautiful character and I love him dearly, even if I don’t write for him anymore. The second answer is Daephrin - be it Starsworn - WoW - or Astramente - FFXIV. He’s just such a clever dumbass, and I love him, officer.

-

Oldest | Oh gods... Did you know I’ve been RPing since 1995? And I still remember my first character: Tiena Nightrose. She’s a cat shapeshifter and elemental mage. These days, she’s got a wonderful grandmotherly air in my head. Imagine a plump-faced cat mom with crow’s feet and greying hair with a black streak near the front. That said, if we’re talking about age, the oldest is Hadeon by several thousand years. He’s an Argus-old Draenei.

-

Newest | Kazuya Ryouichi, a big Au Ra Raen courtesan from Thavnair. He was raised by Hingashi parents in Radz-at-Han and is consistently torn between two worlds - that of serenity and that of adventure. He doesn’t get nearly enough of my time, sadly.

-

Meanest | Oof. I don’t play mean characters as a generality, because I don’t enjoy them. Probably Calleis An’aidei, then. He’s kind of a bastard. Grumpy, doesn’t like people, has a hidden drug habit...

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Softest | I’d say Vy’thanis (Felbane - WoW - or Lusignon - FFXIV) is the softest character of mine and he’d probably be offended to hear that. But he is gentle and kind and happy, and deserves all good things in the world.

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Most Aloof/Standoffish | That would probably be Calleis again. See the aforementioned “doesn’t like people.” He gets by as an alchemist selling potions - including healing ones - but he doesn’t do it because he wants to do good in the world. Alternately, I might say Mathaes Silverton, because he’s very much a loner who avoids everyone but his boyfriend when he can.

-

Dumbest (Affectionate) | Daephrin by a mile. He’s supposed to be so silver-tongued and smooth, but he’s got the emotional perceptiveness of gouda cheese and is always screwing up what should be a good thing for himself.

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Dumbest (Derogatory) | Oh no. Though I wanted to say another character first, further thought on this answer gave me the truth: Ilva Swift. Ilva is a worgen thief and oh, she is so gullible. Her partner in crime is a snake oil salesman (among other things) and the two of them get up to the dumbest adventures. They stole a priest’s underwear drawer one time.

-

Smartest | I’d say Hadeon is the smartest. Aside from having twenty-five-thousand years to perfect his 3D Chess game (I actually made up a sort of 3D checkers that I imagined Draenei played), he’s just really savvy. He’s constantly coming up with new developments in metallurgy and he’s got memorized a staggering amount of ancient hymns. He is a master strategist (far beyond what I can write) and he is regularly a step ahead of everyone around him.

-

Horniest | Again, by a mile, Daephrin. But probably also Zayneth Shadowspite, my failed demon hunter blood elf. The two of them both would bang anything that moves. Of the two, Daephrin’s gotten up to the kinkier shit.

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Character You’d Bang | Part of me wants to say Daephrin, but I know what happens when you put two bottoms in a room together. Probably either Vy’thanis or Zayneth. Which is a bit ironic, as their WoW incarnations were in a friends-with-benefits situation and Vy’thanis learned much of what he knows about sex from Zayneth. His FFXIV incarnation, however, learned mostly from trial and error with various flings. Either way, they’re both sweet, sexy, a little dominant, and lots of fun to be around. Big after-sex cuddlers too.

-

Character You’d Be RL Besties With | Either Vy’thanis or Lysonde Riverblade. Vyth, of course, is soft and kind and happy, and he loves rocks and shiny things, just like me. He’d be the kind of friend who perks up your whole day when you see them. Lysonde would be the glamorous bestie, the one always showing up with a story about where she last traveled to and who she met there, but she’s never a mean girl about it; she genuinely loves to share the world with her friends and she would be incredibly supportive as a bestie.

-

Now, who to tag... I don’t expect they’ll see this, but I think I’ll tag @canalstreetbaker and @chocoblep. I’m very curious to see their answers to this and I might be curious enough to actually poke them outside of tumblr just so they see the tag.

[titular-twins-tournament]

Hooo boy, you want propaganda? I'll do it. I'll do it for my boys: Lucas and Claus propaganda, big time. Thank you for sending me into a passionate typing frenzy.

(Mother 3 spoilers ahead. Of the massive kind. Obviously. And also, a wall of text.)

So I was reading the tags and yeah, yeah the other two suffered and one died. Okay, but that's also true for Lucas and Claus. I think you really need to hear the full plot to understand exactly what went down here and why they've suffered enough to deserve the win.

They were happy boys. They were. Claus was the more energetic and spunky of the two while Lucas was a little timid. Claus would often encourage him to play in the more reckless ways he did and you can see from the opening "name your character" sequence that Claus has a lot of love for his family, enthusiastically dragging their mom, Hinawa, along to join them, always with a big smile on his face.

Okay, so that's great and all. But where's the pain? Oh. I'm getting to that.

The town they lived in, Tazmilly was rural and idyllic, no need for an economy or struggles really. Everyone was friends and things like farmers or builders. Until the Pigmask army. Now long story short, these guys were led by the frustrated secondary antagonist of the previous game who could time travel and stumbled upon Lucas and Claus's timeline. The guy was into messed up genetic experiments and might have let some loose around the forest surrounding Tazmilly while they set it aflame.

But Lucas and Claus were not there. No, they were across the forest with their mom while their dad, Flint, stayed behind. Having only received one last letter from Hinawa, Flint tries to reunite the family, but in the end, Hinawa dies to one of the monstrosities let loose (a corruption of a once nice creature the boys used to play with) and Claus, reckless as ever, vows to avenge Hinawa and fight the creature. But he loses and is presumed dead.

Afterward, as Lucas has to learn to grieve alongside his father (btw the scene where Flint learns of Hinawa's death? Oof.), it turns out that Claus wasn't actually dead, but gravely injured. Unfortunately, the people who found him was not the villagers of Tazmilly who could take him back home, but the Pigmask army. The baddies. And what did they do? Make him a cyborg. Remove most of his will. Create him as the ideal child soldier to their cause and after all that. After all that. After Lucas's journey to defeat the Pigmasks from ruining his home, who else is the final boss who has been in their way the whole time, but his OWN BROTHER.

Yes.

The final battle of Mother 3. Is against your own twin brother.

And here's the kicker. Here's the kicker, right?

Lucas can't stomach fighting him. No matter what. He can't. It is only when a final reminder of their mother hits Claus, is that when he remembers who he was. And in his incredible guilt over what he had done and burning desire to see his mom again after all that, he realizes. Lucas has since gained the ability to automatically reflect lightning. And Claus has lightning powers. So....

MAN

THIS IS THE WORST PART. He purposefully aims a bolt and Lucas to where it bounces back and hits HIM and he dies. He dies, to his own attack. On purpose. To see his mom again, to punish himself for what he had done, whatever it might have been, AUGH

(i am in pain)

So anyway, TL;DR this is one of the most tragic stories in gaming ever and that's why you should vote for Lucas and Claus. They need something good in their lives for once.

Sincerely, The Mother fandom

👀👀👀

[naminethewriter]

I was tagged by @prince-rowan-of-the-forest! Thank you very much! 🥰 You can find their post here!

1: How many works do you have on Ao3?

92 as of yesterday 😎

2: What's your total Ao3 word count?

223,014 words

3: What fandoms do you write for?

Right now just Sanders Sides, though I have unfinished stories for both Kingdom Hearts and South Park and I am thinking of participating in a Professor Layton Big Bang.

4: What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Clyde can't handle that his best friend keeps secrets from him (South Park) - 496 kudos

After months of silence (South Park) - 254 kudos

Lookout (South Park) - 242 kudos

Always (Sanders Sides) - 184 kudos

Logan Tries Something New (Sanders Sides) - 179 kudos

I'm actually surprised that there are two Tss fics here, I was sure that they hadn't caught up to my South Park stories 😅 Apparently they have a lot more hits but aren't that far ahead in terms of kudos 🤔

5: Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I actually feel kind of weird when I don't do it... And I always like getting answers to my own comments 🥰

6: What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oof, that's a hard question... I mean, it depends from which perspective, right? One of my South Park fics, I'll Give Up Everything For You, ended with Hell invading earth but the main characters are the instigators and happy together, while they doomed their town.

Then I have a few Hurt No Comfort stories like Who's the Liar Now? or Rare Lies Hurt The Most, though they're both quite short.

I guess the one with the most ambiguous and hurtful endings are appropriately closely named: Cursed (Dukeceit Werewolf story) and Cursed Woods (Roceit with forceful separation at the end).

7: What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, that's hard because that's most of them 😅 But without thinking about it too much, You're Not Alone an Intruloceit story with lots of hugs and comfort and a christmas party at the end 💙💛💚

8: Do you get hate on fics?

One time I got a comment telling me to kill myself under a South Park fic but apparently they went around commenting on a bunch of fics with that particular ship, so it wasn't really targeted at me. That was the only thing that I've got over the years.

9: Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't, but maybe someday 🤷‍♀️

10: Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't and I don't really like reading them either with very few exceptions.

11: Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If so, I'm not aware of it.

Question 12 has been lost to the ether...

13: Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, but I'd like to try someday ^^

14: What's your all-time favorite ship?

Considering that I just wrapped up the 4th ship week in a row for these dorks, Intrulogical all the way 💙💚

15: What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

How to manipulate a rebellion, a South Park story that I still very much like but I'm not active in the fandom anymore and have so many other stories I want to work on, so I doubt I'll ever get back to it... 😞

16: What are your writing strengths?

Heartfelt moments and dialogue, I think. Sincerity and simplicity as well, maybe.

17: What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not good with poetic writing styles. I also often struggle with descriptions since I'm not much of a visual thinker.

18: Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it can be a fun addition, depending on how much you include. Since I myself am not a native English speaker, I am often tempted to bring in some German. But it needs to be inserted in a way that even non-speakers of the language can understand.

19: First fandom you wrote for?

Kingdom Hearts! They were my first online obsession 🤭 If I had discovered fandoms earlier, I might have written for Wizards of Waverly Place.

20: Favorite fic you've written?

How could I ever choose? I actually really like most of my fics still and do reread them sometimes but I guess in terms of begin proud of how much work I put into it, Hurt No One Knew About might be my favorite of them so far.

Thanks again for the tag! This was fun but a lot of work 🤭

No pressure tags: @lost-in-thought-20, @lily-janus, @candied-peach, @mimssides, @starshard17