#set sometime after all the drama and politics go down

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).

Pairing: Yandere!Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight).

Word Count: 2.1k.

TW: Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Medical Malpractice, Blood, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Social Isolation, Misuse of Prescription Drugs, and Generalized Twilight. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

It might’ve just been the isolation getting to you, but you were starting to think that your doctor wasn’t completely human.

Not that you’d ever say so out loud. At best, it was awful thing to think about a man who’d only ever been kind to you and, at worst, it proved yet another symptom to your ever-developing, ever-worsening illness had cropped up and would need further treatment to correct. You knew better than to say things that would make you seem more sick than you already were, but it was hard to stop yourself from lingering on the idea – especially considering you only had books, sleep, and his company to pass the endless time. Admittedly, it’d been a while since you’d seen another person, but you could’ve sworn he was paler than he should’ve been, to the point of bloodlessness. He never ate or drank around you, but sometimes when he spoke, the light would catch on his teeth in a way that made them look too sharp, too prominent. You might’ve been dreaming, but once, after you took your medicine but just before you fell asleep, you swore you saw him taking the cap off of the blood sample he’d taken a few minutes prior, like he planned to do something aside from—

You heard a door open and instantly, your paranoia was dismissed in favor of more interesting stimuli. In this case, that came in the form of your doctor, Carlisle Cullen, stepping into your bedroom, an inhumanly perfect smile already painted across his inhumanly perfect lips.

…maybe you should tell somebody about your little conspiracy. If only to be absolutely sure that you were really losing your mind.

“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”

The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.

Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”

“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  

“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”

Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”

“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”

“I am, doctor.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”

You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”

At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.

Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”

Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”

“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”

“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. “You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.

“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”

It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.

You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.

But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.

And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.

Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”

“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”

So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.

Through your eyelashes, you watched him bring the vial to his lips before everything went dark.

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 26.7k ❧ warnings: cursing, VERY suggestive/innuendous, reader teases mark a lot playfully but he’s a shy loserboy so the banter is not usually returned and it might come across as a bit excessive/mean sometimes but it’s their version of flirting i promise, blasphemous usage of the word MILF ❧ genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, modern magical creatures au, basilisk mark, sphinx reader, age gap (older reader), college student mark, career woman reader, ft. various magical neos, human renjun, human johnny (and other very special guest appearances), same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: this one is definitely not going to be for everyone i think. but! i had fun with it. it’s got me exploring a lot of new stuff in it: writing for mark, writing this kind of relationship dynamic, figuring out what sphinxes are like in this universe, and some new characters (gasp!) so i had a ball. which of course means the word count is obscene lol. anyway enjoy the (probably) last installment of the strawbsunday universe. i’m not going to call this the official end bc i had so much fun with these characters that i could totally see myself coming back, but as of now this is all i have planned! thank you all for tagging along and i hope you're looking forward to what’s next!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“You—” Jisung was cut off by Chenle.

“Totally fucked our neighbor! I always knew you were a MILF hunter, Mark Lee—” Chenle’s voice was getting louder and louder, and you were sure that at this point you might not have even needed magical hearing to discern their words.

Friday night. After a long week of work, you finally could relax, order some food, make yourself a drink, kick your feet up, and just have a nice quiet night to yourself. Reclined on your couch in your comfiest silk robe, you brought your glass to your lips as you flicked through some options for what to watch. With delight, you realized that a drama you’d been watching had released a new episode. You’d barely clicked play and settled in when the raucous sounds of hooting, hollering, and electronic shooting and smashing penetrated through your living room wall. Sighing to yourself, you paused your show and stood up to walk over to the wall that your TV hung from, which you shared with your next-door neighbors.

A few months ago—at the beginning of the local university’s fall semester, you figured—two college kids had moved in next door to you. You liked Chenle and Jisung just fine; they were polite whenever you saw them in the hallway or elevator, sometimes if Jisung saw you carrying heavy groceries, the dragon would offer to help you bring them in, and while some people may not be thrilled to have a fairy next door, you knew that a lot of your neighbors felt the same way about you, so you didn’t hold that against Chenle. All in all, they weren’t the worst people to live next to. Except for when their other rambunctious college friends came over for video game nights. They didn’t always seem aware of the noise levels. Thankfully, they were quick to make adjustments as soon as you made them aware. Another reason that you didn’t mind living next door to them, despite the occasional loudness.

You banged your fist against the wall a couple times. It was almost immediately followed by a distant ‘Oh shit!’ and the hasty lowering of their video game volume. A young man’s voice then came through the wall much clearer, as if he were just on the other side from you.

“Sorry!” It sounded like Jisung. You didn’t respond, instead plopping back down onto your couch and playing your show again. No need to have a shouting match through the wall and disturb everybody else in the building. They continued their video games at a constant, but much quieter hum for the rest of the evening, and you puttered around through your streaming services until you deemed your night over.

After putting your leftovers away in your fridge, you were about to head off to your bedroom when you heard the distant shuffle of footsteps over your welcome mat. You paused at the threshold of your kitchen to your living room, waiting to see if whoever it was would actually ring the doorbell, or just keep… well, it sounded like they were pacing anxiously. Finally, there were a couple soft taps on your front door. If you were a human, you weren’t sure if you would have even heard that. Your footsteps were soft across your carpeted floor as you moved to answer the door. First looking out the peephole, your interest was piqued when you saw a young man standing there who was neither Chenle nor Jisung. Though you did have an idea of exactly what this was about.

Undoing your deadbolt, latch, then disarming the alarm, you opened the door just enough for you to cross your arms over your chest and lean against the doorframe. “I accept apologies in the form of cash or groveling.”

“Huh?” The young man stared at you wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and dumb-founded. You took note of his slit pupils, and the two fangs that hadn’t yet fully descended from his top jaw. Huh, basilisk.

“Did the boys not send you over here to be the sacrificial lamb?” You cocked your head and looked him up and down perhaps too obviously, as he shifted nervously under your gaze. A very timid basilisk at that. You eyed the oversized t-shirt he had on that had the same university logo that you’d often seen your neighbors wearing. “You are one of Chenle and Jisung’s friends, right?”

“Oh, y-yeah, I am. I’m Mark. Mark Lee.” He took one of his hands out from where he’d stuffed them into the pockets of his joggers, wiped it on the leg of said joggers, and held it out to you. As he got close enough to shake your hand, you could finally smell him. Sphinx noses weren’t as sensitive as werewolves’ or vampires’—or basilisk tongues for that matter. Not to mention that basilisks just didn’t have as strong of a scent as most other beings. They had a mild, earthen smell that reminded you of peat freshly after rain. Others tended to make less favorable comparisons such as damp caverns or even mildewy caves, but those ideas never occurred to you. Maybe it was because one of your own childhood best friends was a basilisk, so you were just used to the smell and had positive memories associated with it.

You couldn’t conceal the amusement on your face as you delicately shook his hand, now very aware of his clammy palms. “It’s nice to meet you, Mark, I’m Y/N. Now if they didn’t send you over with your big brown eyes and sweet face in an attempt to distract me from the ruckus you all were making earlier, then why are you on my doorstep?”

“Wait, you can look at my eyes?” There was a noticeable drag on his s’es when he spoke, which you noted with a certain fondness. He must be young enough to have missed most, if not all, of the mandatory speech therapy that the basilisks of your cohort and before went through during primary and secondary school. It was removed from the curriculum for being unfair and prejudiced against the creatures, but that was after your time. You could remember your friend Jongin being singled out to leave class three times a week for the “therapy.” Even now he could still recall the name of the instructor who led it, his voice filling with bitter vitriol on the rare occasions he’d choose to talk about it.

“I’m a sphinx, honey. You couldn’t petrify me if you tried,” you informed Mark knowingly. Now you were curious as to why he was out and about without magical eye protection or at least non-magical sunglasses if he was apparently so worried about petrifying people. But, not curious enough to divert you from your original mission. “Now, why are you here?”

“O-Oh, right, uhm, I’m really sorry for bothering you, ma’am, it’s just that I went to go get something from my car but then I realized that I forgot my keys in their apartment and I came back up to get them but I locked myself out. My phone’s in the apartment too, and I tried knocking but they’re not answering and—”

“They fell asleep in the two minutes you were gone?” You cut him off, raising your eyebrows slightly in disbelief.

“No, no, they were already asleep. You see, uhm, I’m crashing on their couch tonight and—”

“Got it, got it.” You nodded. Well, that explains the lack of sunglasses. They were also presumably locked in the apartment. “So, what do you want from me?”

“Can I borrow your phone really quick, just to try to call them and see if they’ll pick up? Again, I’m really, really sorry about this.”

“I will actually do you one better, Mark.” You did a small shooing gesture, and he seemed to get the idea, taking a couple steps back. Once he was off of your welcome mat, you lifted up the corner and grabbed the key that was sitting under there. You held it out to him. “Here.”

“Uh—”

“It’s their spare key, not mine.” You reassured him. “When they moved in, they asked if they could hide it under my mat because it would be too obvious to burglars for their spare key to be under their mat.”

“O-Oh.” Mark gingerly took the key from you. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Mark, one more thing.”

“Anything!” He blurted out, then his entire face flushed as he scrambled to tone it down. “I mean, y-yeah, of course, ma’am, what do you need?”

You couldn’t help but smirk as you requested, “Stop calling me ma’am.”

“Right, sorry.”

“You can call me Y/N.”

“O-Okay!” The basilisk smiled at you brightly, another flash of his not-yet fully developed baby fangs. He presumably was only a year or so out from his first molting. They were cute. He was... cute.

“Goodnight, Mark.” You stepped back and grabbed the edge of your door, preparing to close it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

His eyes didn’t leave you the entire time as you shut the door. Curious, you peered out your peephole. Mark flicked his forked snake tongue out in the air once before he made his way over to your neighbors’ door. The boys had a corner apartment, meaning that despite the two apartments sharing a wall, their door was actually perpendicular to yours, so you could see it from your peephole. You watched Mark unlock the apartment, then dart back over to yours and bend over to lift up your mat. You froze, not expecting him to immediately return the key. You figured he’d just give it back to his friends in the morning. He paused after he’d put the key under the mat again, tongue once more testing the air. You held your breath, waiting for a paralyzing one, two seconds before he finally left again. You didn’t relax fully until the boys’ apartment door had closed behind him, though. You wanted to hit yourself. What were you even nervous about? A grown woman being caught standing by your own apartment door? By some random college kid? Ridiculous. You scoffed, doing up your locks, latches, and alarm again.

“Hi, Ms. Y/N.” “Hi, Ms. Y/N.”

Chenle and Jisung gave you two very polite nods as they passed you in the hallway heading out of the building at the same time that you were coming home from work. It had been a couple weeks since their last video game night when you’d had your unexpected visitor, which was also the last time you’d seen or heard a peep from either of your young neighbors. You figured they’d been keeping an extra-low profile out of guilt.

You smiled back at them genuinely. “Hi, boys.”

The third figure behind them looked at you with wide eyes, and you arched an eyebrow curiously at him, a silent challenge.

“H-Hi, Y/N.” To his credit, Mark’s voice didn’t crack at all, despite the stutter.

“Hi, Mark,” you practically purred his name, not slowing down in the slightest as you continued your path to your front door. You bit your bottom lip to keep from laughing as you heard the fervent whispered back and forth of the college students behind you.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Jisung hissed at Mark.

“Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Chenle concurred.

“What?” Mark shot back quietly.

You arrived at your apartment door at the end of the hall, still well within earshot for you. Opening up your purse to fetch your keys, you unhurriedly flipped through every key on your keyring.

“You—” Jisung was cut off by Chenle.

“Totally fucked our neighbor! I always knew you were a MILF hunter, Mark Lee—” Chenle’s voice was getting louder and louder, and you were sure that at this point you might not have even needed magical hearing.

“Dude!” Mark snapped, and you heard the sound of what you were pretty sure was the basilisk slapping a hand over the fairy’s mouth. “She can totally hear us!”

You raised a hand above your head and, without turning around, waved it. “Hey, boys. Sphinx, remember?”

“Sorry, Ms. Y/N!” Jisung called out down the hall to you, and you could picture his sheepish face in that moment. You went to actually unlock your apartment now, pushing the door open.

“Sorry!” Mark apologized too, as you had stepped into your home.

You just caught his eye and a glimpse of his pink ears as you turned around to disable your alarm next to the closing door. In the moment before the gap shut all the way, you winked at him.

Humming along to the music playing from your phone, you touched up your work makeup to make it a little more ‘nighttime’ and swapped out your studs for some more flashy going-out dangly earrings. You’d already changed into a much less corporate outfit for your night out with your friends that you had planned and were just putting the finishing touches on before you had to leave in a few minutes. You’d just finished up with your hair and makeup when you swore you heard a knock at your front door. Pausing your music to stick your head out of your bathroom, you listened more carefully. Yeah, there were definitely footsteps at your front door, and it didn’t sound like a delivery person dropping a package off and leaving. In fact, it sounded like someone pacing nervously. A very familiar shuffle, if you weren’t mistaken.

Already bemused, you took long strides through your apartment to get to your front door, deftly unlocking it. And sure enough, when you so confidently swung it open without peeking through the peephole first, your instincts had of course been right. Mark Lee was standing on the other side, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. His gaze immediately snapped up to you, and you barely contained your amusement at how his jaw literally dropped when he took in what you were wearing.

“Hello, Mark,” you greeted him, once more leaning against your doorway. It had been a few weeks since you’d last seen him, and you could only guess why he was knocking on your door again.

You could see him blink himself out of a trance, running a hand through his hair, knocking the hood of his forest green hoodie off his head in the process. “Hi, Y/N. How-How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. How about you?”

“Good! I’m good.”

“So… What brings you to my doorstep again? You know where the boys’ key is.” You pointed to the welcome mat underneath his sneakers.

“Oh, Chenle and Jisung aren’t even home right now,” he said off-handedly. “I didn’t come to see them.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. I uhm, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mark…” You said his name calmly, but with a hint of warning. Truly, this was your fault. You’d been having too much fun and let this get out of hand, and now you were going to have to let this sweet boy down easy before he started something he couldn’t finish. And you’d had such a good relationship with your neighbors so far, too. Maybe he’d be too embarrassed to tell them. One could only hope.

Mark’s ears were getting redder by the second. “Sorry, I know you’re probably too busy but— Could you maybe help me with my abilities?”

Well, that certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Shoving away the strange twinge of disappointment in your chest, you reminded him, “I’m not a basilisk. I’m not even reptile adjacent at all. Sphinxes are part-lion, part-eagle.”

“I know, I just thought that, you know, sphinxes develop your powers later, right? You’re not born with them.”

“Right…”

“Basilisks too. I just thought that, I don’t know, maybe you’d be able to at least give me some advice?” He immediately shook his head at himself. “I’m sorry, you don’t even know me, I’ll just—”

“Hold on, Mark.” You went to stop him from leaving entirely. While you weren’t fully convinced, this at least wasn’t a conversation to be having on your doorstep. You had better manners than to leave the poor boy on your doormat. You stepped back from your door, opening it wider. “Here, come in.”

“O-Okay.” He obliged, walking into your apartment. “Thank you.” He stood awkwardly just a couple steps past the front door, looking around your living room hesitantly.

“Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?” You offered, hoping it would calm him down. He looked so tense that you were a little worried about his blood pressure. “Unfortunately I don’t have any Red Bulls or whatever college boys sustain themselves on.”

“Oh, uh, no thank you. I actually don’t drink energy drinks or any of that stuff.” He shook his head, his nose wrinkling. “Tastes too… too much.”

“Hm…” You filled up a glass of water for yourself, and an extra for Mark anyway. He was your guest, after all. You sat back in your spot in the corner of your couch, putting one of the glasses down on your coffee table for him. You took a sip of the other. When Mark was still rooted to the same spot a couple seconds later, you gestured to the other two-thirds of the piece of furniture. “You can sit, my couch won’t come to life and swallow you whole, you know.”

“Right, sorry.” He laughed, looking down at his feet as he walked over and sat on the opposite end from you. Or, as far to the opposite end as he could get. You had several throw pillows on that side. He still looked nervous, refusing to meet your gaze as his eyes flicked around your living room skittishly.

“I’m also not going to swallow you whole.”

“Of course, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Mark picked up the glass of water that he had told you he didn’t want, this time looking you in the eye as he gave you an anxious smile before bringing the drink up to his lips.

“Not unless you ask nicely.”

He immediately spat the drink of water he’d just taken back out into his cup as he coughed and choked, and you covered your own mouth as you giggled, not wanting to outright laugh in the poor boy’s face.

“I’m sorry, Mark, that was mean of me.” You patted his knee, then quickly took your hand back. You really were just trying to reassure him. “Now, you came in for a real reason, not just for me to tease you. Go ahead.”

Having finally recovered, he set his water back down on the table to talk. “Y-Yeah, right. Uhm… So, basilisks don’t start developing their powers until they’ve gone through their first molting. Mine was a year and a half ago and honestly my life has kind of been one big shit show ever since.”

“Basilisk powers aren’t all they were cracked up to be?”

“I first partially petrified my human roommate last spring and now I have to wear sunglasses around him all the time or God forbid I’m going to actually turn him to stone one of these days. I accidentally compel him, too, like all the time, and he refuses to let our witch friends make any sort of protection charm for him.”

“He wants to get petrified and compelled?”

“No, he doesn’t want me to think he’s afraid of me. But I’m afraid of what I’m going to do to him. I feel like I can barely be in our apartment except to sleep.” Mark rubbed a hand over his face, visibly stressed and upset now. “Dude definitely knows I’m avoiding him but… I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I actually hurt Johnny.”

“Well first you’re not going to punish yourself over something you haven’t even done. That’s not going to do anything for you or your friend,” you told him firmly.

“Hmph,” he chuckled cynically.

“You don’t know any basilisks that could help you? Your parents? Friends?” You suggested gently. He clearly did need help, but you weren’t going to be his best option. “They might be a bit more useful than me.”

“My parents live five hours away. Not exactly a day trip. And I don’t know any other basilisks at school. My friends have all been supportive but useless. They’re either human or have been using their powers since before they could talk.”

You sighed and nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean. It’s like puberty all over again. A magical growth spurt but instead of suddenly losing all body awareness, growing four inches, and having hormones making your brain all fuzzy, you’re trying to gain an awareness on some new part of yourself you didn’t have before, you’re teething like a giant toddler, and have magic making your brain all fuzzy.”

“Yes, the teething! God, I thought I was crazy!” Mark groaned, vindication and relief all over his face at having someone else validate what’s been happening to him. His features then turned confused. “Wait, sphinxes don’t have fangs, do you?”

You grabbed your top lip to pull it up, at the same time letting your second set of teeth descend.

“Wow…” He breathed out, watching you as you tucked them back into your jaw.

“Lion canines. Retractable, thankfully.” You let go of your lip and closed your mouth, habitually running your tongue over your normal teeth. Sphinxes still didn’t have perfectly average human teeth as their first set of teeth, they were much sharper, with a greater number of human canines. But you much preferred your first set anyway, they were the ones you grew up with, and were a lot less cumbersome than a full set of lion canines, incisors, and carnassials. All the second set was really good for was a party trick. Not that you really went to those anymore; you’d been out of college for years now.

“Have you ever met another sphinx before me, Mark?” You asked.

“W-What do you mean?”

“You knew that sphinxes get our powers later in life, but you didn’t know about our second set of teeth. I don’t know, your knowledge is a little... inconsistent.”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Well... my friend Renjun, he’s a Magical Creatures Studies major. He goes on all these tangents all the time. I kind of zone in and out.”

“So you haven’t met another sphinx, but you were listening when your friend was talking about sphinxes getting their powers later in life, but you completely missed the part about lion teeth.” You ticked every detail off on your fingers to make sure you had it straight.

“Yeah...”

You burst into laughter again, watching as the pink that had persisted on the tips of his ears spread down to his cheeks. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you.”

“It sure feels like it,” he mumbled, but you caught sight of a bashful smile on his lips as he stared down at his lap.

“I mean, I am laughing, but it’s just— you’re just— you’re very endearing, Mark,” you tried to explain to him. “I’m being endeared right now— It’s a good thing, just take it as a compliment, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll take it as a compliment.” He nodded. “From now on, when you laugh at something stupid and embarrassing I do or say, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You chuckled, “You’re funny, you know that?”

“You’re the first person who’s ever told me that,” he admitted, looking up from his hands to you. “You know that?”

“Wait, seriously?” Your smile faded.

“No, but you believed me, didn’t you?” The basilisk snickered.

“Oh, hey!” You retorted indignantly. “Not fair! You had me feeling bad for you this whole time with the sob story about your powers! You can’t just—” But Mark had already devolved into a fit of giggles, and you knew he was too far gone for your argument to hold any water. Instead, you watched him fondly as you realized that this was the most relaxed he’d been around you. As he started collecting himself, you took one more sip of your water, then set it down on the coffee table. “Alright, so what’s your class schedule?”

Mark stared at you wide-eyed. “Huh?”

“I can’t guarantee results of any kind, but I’ll do my best to teach you what I know at least.”

“Really?!” He seemed shocked that his own plan had worked.

“It’s not going to be a one-and-done, I can tell you that much. So, what’s your schedule?” You reiterated your question. “I get off work at five every day and have yoga Tuesdays and Thursdays. So you better be available on a Monday or Wednesday.”

“Wait, what’s wrong with Friday?”

“You may have endeared me, but not enough to give up my Friday nights.”

"Of course, right. Uh, Wednesdays should be the best for me. My last class is over at three and I usually don’t get scheduled then since it’s so late in the day.”

“Where do you work that 3:00 in the afternoon is late?”

“Campus bookstore. Closes at 5:00.”

“Gotcha. So, I will see you here, next Wednesday at 6:00.” You could see panic grow in Mark’s eyes as you started to stand up.

“W-Why not now?”

“Because I have other plans, Mark,” you told him patiently. “I’ll keep Wednesdays for you in the future, but tonight I have somewhere to be. You and Johnny have survived this long, I believe that you’ll be able to survive one more week, okay?”

He got to his feet with a sigh. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” You started guiding him toward your front door. “Who knows, I might make it worse.”

“I doubt it could get any worse.”

“I am so sorry I’m late,” you breathed out as you sat down at the restaurant booth where your friends were waiting.

“That’s okay, Y/N!” Baekhyun reassured you, pushing a glass over to you. “Here, we got you a water. We didn’t know what you were going to get to eat, so we didn’t want to order a drink-drink.”

“You’re not usually late,” Minseok, another sphinx, pointed out from across the table from you and your siren friend.

“Yeah, is everything alright?” Jongin asked from his seat beside Minseok. You especially noticed now how his s’es weren’t as pronounced as Mark’s, but at least some of his natural sibilance had come back once he got out of that speech “therapy.”

You let out a sigh, dropping your head back against the booth. “I had an unexpected visitor.”

“Ooh, do tell.” Baekhyun’s opalescent scales that sat just under the skin of his cheekbones, bridge of his nose, and forehead shifted with the inquisitive tilt of his head.

“Nothing scandalous, I assure you,” you snorted. “Just some friend of my neighbors, you know, the college kids—”

“A college boy? Y/N, you cougar!” The siren exclaimed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Are you done?”

“Yes, continue.”

“I mean, his friends did indirectly call me a MILF, but I don’t know if I should take that a compliment or an insult really.”

Minseok and Jongin guffawed at that while Baekhyun’s face lit up with delight. He smushed your cheeks in between his hands. “Oh, I’m so proud of you! My baby’s all grown up! No longer a baby but a MILF!”

“At least to a bunch of college boys,” Minseok pointed out, grabbing his glass that looked like it was filled with some dark liquor. Whiskey, maybe. He always liked to mix it up. “Don’t let it get you too down, Y/N, they probably think anybody above human drinking age is middle-aged.”

“Let it get her down?” Baekhyun scoffed indignantly. “You’re clearly missing three-quarters of the acronym here, Minseok!”

“Guys!” You cut into their bickering. “I don’t particularly care one, how old they think I am, or two, how fuckable they think I am.”

“Then why was one of them over at your place and making you late to our dinner?” Jongin arched a brow, taking a drink of what you knew was a glass of witch’s brew and tonic water. Basilisk tongues were extremely sensitive to taste, so regular alcohol was out of the question for him. Witch’s brew on the other hand was the perfect solution, with no burn and a pleasant, light, flowery taste. Almost too perfect of a solution, as you’d carried him home absolutely shitfaced drunk from plenty of parties after he discovered it in high school. Thankfully he’d both built up a tolerance and learned to pace himself and drink responsibly since then, so you hadn’t had to do that in years.

“Because I kind of just agreed to sort of... mentor him?”

“Huh?” Baekhyun tilted his head to the other side.

“Why?” The sphinx snorted and took another swig of his drink.

Jongin just stared at you wordlessly. Shifting forward in your seat, you prepared yourself to try to explain it. “Long story short, he needs help with his powers, and he thinks I can help him.”

“So he’s a sphinx,” Minseok surmised.

“Well, no...”

“Gryphon that was abandoned as a child and never learned how to fly?”

“What? No.”

“Sorry, that’s just literally the only thing that makes sense other than him being another sphinx.”

“No, he’s a... he’s a basilisk.” You crossed your arms over your chest, already prepared for the backlash from your friends over your choice.

“Then give him to Jongin.”

The basilisk scoffed, “I did not come out tonight to be given some kid. No thanks.”

Minseok gestured to him to emphatically. “See? If Jongin’s not worried, the kid’s probably not that big of a danger to society. No need to help. Which you wouldn’t be able to do anyway, because you’re not a basilisk.”

You held your hands up defensively. “Look, I told him I might not be any help, but—”

“But he was just sooo cute with his widdle forked tongue and shedding molting skin all over your couch that you couldn’t say no?” Minseok retorted, making Baekhyun burst into laughter.

“I’m right here, man,” Jongin muttered, taking another sip of his drink.

“No!” You replied indignantly over both Minseok and Baekhyun’s unrestrained laughter at your expense. “He had an actual reason! He pointed out that sphinxes and basilisks develop their powers similarly. We both are born as supernatural creatures, instead of being turned like vampires, but we get our powers later in life, unlike most creatures like sirens, or fairies, or dragons.”

While Jongin actually seemed to be considering the argument, Minseok and Baekhyun still both had disbelieving looks on their faces. The siren composed himself again to ask, “Sure... yeah. But be honest... was he at least a wittle cute?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I mean, there’s a reason we don’t let you near the animal shelter, Y/N,” Minseok reminded you. “You’d adopt everything in there and never get your security deposit back.”

“I told him it might not work. It won’t hurt to just try,” you huffed.

“Just don’t let him tear up your curtains.” Baekhyun patted your shoulder.

The next Wednesday finally rolled around, and you went through your day at work with the thought of your impending guest lingering in your mind. Or, more specifically, what the hell you were going to teach him. It had been on your mind all week. You jotted down what you were first taught when you got your sphinx powers, which was mostly a lot of breathing. Probably not really what he was looking for, but it was the best you got. It sounded like he didn’t even have much of a foundation, which he needed before you could do anything close to actual compelling or petrification—or preventing such.

Locking your front door behind you, you set your purse down and made a beeline for your bedroom to change out of your work clothes into something casual and comfortable. Mark had already seen you in your pajamas once, you weren’t trying to make any impressions here. You tidied up your living room a little, moving a couple dirty pieces of clothes into your bedroom hamper, then took care of your dishes from breakfast this morning that you hadn’t cleaned before leaving for work. All those miscellaneous tasks took up your time nicely, as just as you had finished wiping down your kitchen countertops, you picked up a familiar squeak of sneakers rushing down the hallway. Glancing up at the clock on your microwave, it struck 6:00 p.m. at the exact moment your doorbell rang.

You tossed your used paper towel in the trash before walking over to the front door. Mark was on the other side, the basilisk panting heavily, panic on his face. Before you could even greet him, he blurted out, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I hope I’m not late! I’m here! Please! I was studying, and lost track of time, please, I’m really sorry, Y/N!”

“Woah, Mark, slow down,” you said calmly. “You’re right on time. It’s okay. Please, come in.”

Holding the door open and stepping back, you beckoned him in with a reassuring smile. He let out a sigh of relief, walking in with his head down, eyes focused on his shoes. You got the two of you settled on the floor of your living room, sitting cross-legged facing each other.

“Okay, so today we’re really just going to be—” You were cut off by the sound of a stomach growling very loudly. And it wasn’t yours.

Mark ducked his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry! Keep going! Just-Just ignore that.”

“You hungry, Mark?”

“Sorry—”

“Did I ask for an apology?”

“No.”

“Then why are you apologizing?” You asked gently.

“Right. Uhm, I had classes and then a meeting with a professor and then I was studying and I’m pretty sure I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I didn’t want to be late…”

You shook your head. “Well, you can’t do this on an empty stomach.”

“I’m—”

“I’m putting a moratorium on the word ‘sorry’ for tonight. You’re done. You’ve hit your max.” You stood up, heading towards your kitchen. “Come on, let’s get some food in you.”

“Okay…”

You rummaged through your fridge to bring out the ingredients for the dinner that you were planning to make tonight after Mark left. Looks like you were going to be moving dinner up. “I don’t know what kind of gourmet meals you’re used to, but don’t expect anything fancy out of my kitchen,” you forewarned him in jest, turning on the stovetop.

That finally got a smile out of him. “Better than the dining hall, I’m sure. And, you really don’t have to—”

“It’s fine. Think of it like this: Would you go on a run, or go to the gym without eating anything? Magic needs energy too, just like exercise.”

“I never realized that.” Mark’s stomach let out another growl then, making the basilisk rub the back of his very red neck, and you smiled quietly to yourself.

“And, I don’t think either one of us could focus much with your stomach rumbling like that.”

Dinner was pulled together quickly, and you took it to your dining table. Pushing aside your laptop to give you enough room to set your plate down, you headed back to your kitchen. “Mark?” You called for his attention as you opened your glasses cabinet. “Water? Wine? Beer? I think I might have a Coke in the back if you want that.”

“Water’s fine.”

You nodded, filling up his glass of ice water before grabbing a beer for yourself and heading back to where the basilisk was waiting for you.

“Thank you.” Mark accepted the cup from you. “Really, this is great.”

“You’re welcome.” You popped open the tab of your can and held it out towards him. He tapped his glass to it, and you grinned, taking a sip before picking up your utensils to start eating.

As you watched Mark dig in eagerly, you felt a warm fondness in your chest for the basilisk in front of you. You wracked your brain for the last time you’d cooked for someone else. Whoever your last boyfriend was, you figured. It was funny, you couldn’t even remember a specific instance, that was just a guess. You and your friends usually ate out, ordered in, or there was the odd occasion that Jongin would host a dinner party and you all would get dressed up to go over to his penthouse—he’d done the best out of all of you, he owned a luxury clothing brand and definitely lived like it. So as you sat here, watching the college student in front of wolf down the simple meal you’d just made for him like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted, you felt the sides of your lips upquirk just the slightest. You lifted another bite to your mouth and took another swig of your beer.

“So what’s your major?” You asked, and he finally looked up at you. It took everything in you not to immediately giggle and coo at his slightly bulging cheeks.

He quickly swallowed the food in his mouth and drank some water before answering your question. “Bio… pre-med track.”

“Wow. Human medicine or magical creatures?”

“Both. Doctors should want to help everyone.” Mark had a scowl on his face as he stabbed a piece of food with his fork.

“Good point. When do you graduate?”

“Next spring. One more year.” He took a deep breath, then let out a big sigh. “After this semester. Then med school… If I don’t catch an attempted murder charge for petrifying Johnny first.”

You looked down at his empty plate, then your half-full one. “Let’s see what we can do about that, then. You want seconds?”

“Please?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his big, pleading eyes. “Of course, go for it.”

Back on your living room floor sat cross-legged after dinner, you started where you left off before getting interrupted by the basilisk’s growling stomach. “Tonight won’t be anything big and showy. From what you’ve told me, you don’t even have a foundation. We need that first.”

“A foundation?” The basilisk questioned.

“The times that you’ve accidentally petrified or compelled Johnny, did you feel anything?”

“Horrible and guilty and like a terrible person and that I was a danger to other people.”

You shook your head. “I meant— Did you feel any different physically? On the inside? Or in your body? Not like, ashamed or embarrassed. Not emotionally.”

His face screwed up as he tried to think. “No?”

“That’s what I mean. You can’t even feel when you’re using your magic. Your powers are a part of you, but right now they’re functioning completely separate from you. We need to work on you being able to feel your magic at all before getting around to doing anything with it.”

“And how do I do that?”

“We’re going to go through some guided breathing techniques that I did when I first got my powers, and see how those work, okay?”

“Okay. Uhm, first, though…”

You looked at him attentively. “Yes, Mark?”

“Do you think you could show me your-your heliokinesis?”

“Asked your friend to finish his lecture on sphinxes, huh?” You snickered, twisting around to crack your back.

“Yeah, I mean—”

“It’s fine. Good move, considering. We just don’t call it that.”

“Oh. What is it called?”

“Heliokinesis is the academic word for the general ability to control solar energy, you weren’t wrong. A few different beings can do it. Witches, with the right tools or spells; some fairies; phoenixes at the zenith of their life right before they’re reborn; dryads to a smaller degree; and sphinxes. Us sphinxes call it sol-channeling.”

“Got it. Could you show me some? Sol-channeling? If that’s okay?”

Looking out the window, you saw that there were still remnants of the sunset glowing outside. “Sure, there’s still enough light out.”

The basilisk sat up straight, eagerly drinking in every move you made and every word you said.

“Now, we can only channel, manipulate, and shape existing solar energy that’s available. We can’t create solar energy. So once the Sun is down, that’s it,” you explained, raising your hand towards a beam of orange sunlight that was illuminating a square of carpet in front of you.

Delicately, you plucked the light right out of the air and into your palm, feeling the warmth against your skin as the square melted into a puddle of gleaming liquid amber in your cupped hand. The boy across from you gasped softly as you raised your hand up slightly to pour the sunlight into your other palm like sand at the beach. Tossing it up into the air, it turned into splatters in the empty space between your faces, like an abstract art painting. The deep terracotta light washed Mark’s delighted features in a heavenly glow as he watched it hover there in awe. Like wiping a chalkboard, you took the light back down into your hands again, then gestured for Mark to hold his out. “Come on.”

“A-Are you sure?” He looked between you and the apricot heavens that you were holding uncertainly.

“Yes. I won’t let anything happen to you, Markie. Promise.” You pushed your hands towards him again, insistent. “Now come on, before the sun sets completely and I have to send it back.”

“Alright, alright.” He put his hands out in the space between you, palms cupped together. You placed yours just above them, parting your own palms so that the sunlight fell down into his waiting hands. It had already been tempered, so you weren’t worried about it burning him. Instead, you just got to watch him breathe out in absolute stunned awe as he gently rolled around his little puddle of sunshine. “Dude…” His eyes were glued to his hands. “This is officially the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. And done.”

You laughed. “I’m honored. A bit skeptical, but honored.”

“My powers aren’t cool. They’re just something else that can go horribly wrong,” he sighed, continuing to watch the light in his hands.

Looking outside at the fading sunbeams, you held a hand back out towards him. “I need to send it back. The Sun’s almost gone.”

Mark gently tipped the golden energy back into your waiting palm. You closed your hand around it, focusing on allowing the light to return to its natural state, before opening your fingers. A soft ball of pure, hazy light drifted up from your hand, before shooting out your living room window to rejoin the setting Sun.

“So that’s sol-channeling...” The basilisk murmured.

“One facet of it, yeah,” you nodded.

“It’s beautiful.”

You tilted your head as you took in the pensive look on Mark’s face. Turning back around to fully face him, you could only guess where his thoughts had spiraled to.

“And destructive. Before I could do that, I would melt things, light things on fire, burn... hurt people. Things I can’t undo.” Your voice was quiet but firm, trying to get the point across to him in the most sympathetic way possible that he wasn’t alone in this. He wasn’t the only person to have ever struggled with powers, to have done things he wishes he could take back. “You have got to stop looking at your powers like a curse, and everybody else’s like a blessing. They’re neither. They’re just... they just are.”

The basilisk was quiet, turning his gaze from the carpet up to you. You held his eye contact, easily looking back into those slit pupils with sincerity. “Got it?” You asked.

“Got it.”

Trying not to make your breath of relief too obvious, you rolled out your neck as you focused back on what you’d really meant to start with tonight. “So, some breathing techniques for grounding. Again, we’re trying to build a foundation before anything else. Throughout all of these, I want you to try to reach out for your magic. I know this whole time you’ve been trying to avoid it, right? Trying not to hurt your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t hurt me, so don’t worry,” you flashed him a confident smile.

Mark sat up with interest at this. “I’ve always heard that sphinxes can’t be petrified by basilisks, and I always kind of thought it was just one of those things about our magic canceling each other out or whatever. Like how siren venom doesn’t work on other sirens. But then Renjun said that actually nobody’s powers work on you because you’ve got... he called it anti-magic, I don’t know if that’s right or...”

“Well that’s very dramatic,” you commented humorously. “‘Anti-magic.’ No, we call it nixing, or foiling. Like all of our powers, we don’t come into it until we’re adults, so technically magic does work on us for a period of time. It also fluctuates with our magical strength, like all beings’ powers. That’s why ‘anti-magic’ isn’t the best word, because it is magic. We can use it too much and get drained.”

“So there’s still a chance I could accidentally petrify you or something!” He panicked, his voice rising with fear.

“Mark, you’re not going to,” you said calmly. “Nixing is instinctual to me, like it is for any developed sphinx. That’s why your friend Renjun called it ‘anti-magic.’ Because it’ll seem like I’m not even doing anything, like your powers are just fizzling out on their own. I promise it’ll be fine. It would take me nixing a lot of very strong magic for a very long time to be drained anywhere near levels where my nixing could have even a chance of being weaker, much less not working at all. What we’re doing won’t even come close.”

He gulped. “Really?”

“Really. Let me worry about me and my powers.” You placed a hand over your chest. “You just work on finding your powers, wherever you’ve pushed them to in there.”

“You say that like I’ve got some big cavern inside of me or something,” he snorted skeptically. “Or this mind palace thing that Renjun always talks about.”

“If imagining something like that helps you, then sure.”

“I was joking.”

“This is magic, Mark. It’s a lot more abstract and metaphysical than whatever you’re learning in your bio classes.”

He groaned. “Oh great. I almost failed my philosophy class freshman year.”

“Good thing I’m not handing out grades, then. Come on, close your eyes. I’ll start a count.”

Mark had even less of a foundation than you did when you started out. At least your powers had been tied to your emotions at first—such as the case of a rather unfortunate car melting—meanwhile from what you could tell, his seemed to just happen randomly. When you tried to talk him through recalling how he felt in the moments leading up to when he actually used his powers, he couldn’t find any sort of common thread. The first time, he’d been startled by Johnny unexpectedly appearing around the corner in a clay face mask, but other times they’d be watching movies together, eating dinner, or playing basketball. It couldn’t be self-defense, fight or flight, or even just any strong emotion—one time Mark was scrolling on his phone practically catatonic, glanced up for one second and Johnny was on the floor.

Counting back down from the last breathing exercise you had prepared for the night, you stole a glance at the time. Between dinner and this, Mark had been at your place for almost three hours, that was plenty for one night. “Alright, Mark, let’s call it there for today,” you announced quietly, offering him a fleeting half-smile. “How are you feeling?”

“The same as when I got here. Well, less hungry, I guess,” he shrugged, blowing a couple pieces of hair out of his eyes. “Thanks, though. Sorry I ate your food then just wasted your time.”

“I told you it wasn’t going to be a one and done. I think the only one of us who expected you to come in here and immediately nail everything was you.”

“It’s not that I was expecting to nail everything… just sort of hoping I’d at least be able to do something? Other than breathe?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, that’s fair. Once you can feel your powers, it’ll be a lot different, I promise.”

“Different…” he echoed. “Not easier, or better?”

“Different,” you confirmed with a nod. “Unfortunately, it’s looking like we can’t use muscle memory to get there, which is how I was taught. Since there’s apparently nothing in common with how you’ve used your powers before. Other than—” With a thoughtful frown, you cut yourself off, quickly trying to recall all the stories Mark had told you tonight of him accidentally petrifying or compelling his roommate.

“Other than…?” The basilisk prompted you curiously.

“Have you used your powers on anybody other than Johnny?” You questioned. “Other human friends? Classmates? Random cashier at a grocery store?”

“Yeah, one time.”

“Tell me about it!”

“I don’t know if it really counts…”

“It’s an anomaly, it might help. Who was it? What happened?”

“It was Renjun.”

“Your Magical Creatures Studies major friend.”

“Exactly. He’s kind of got like this list of magical stuff that he wants to do? Like, getting his blood drank by a vampire, experiencing siren venom, that kind of stuff.”

“Getting petrified by a basilisk?”

“Yeah.”

“So you petrified him.”

“Not on purpose! Or, not on my purpose,” Mark groaned. “Renjun’s like actually insane when it comes to that kind of thing. Somehow, he figured out when he was most likely to get accidentally petrified by me and… it happened.”

“Mark.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“You need to get Renjun’s notes,” you instructed him.

“What?”

“On how he got you to petrify him. If he’s that neurotic, he was definitely taking notes and found some sort of pattern, and probably kept his notes. We need those notes. Get them.”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “You don’t know Renjun. When I say he’s insane about this, I’m not kidding. There’s no way he’d—”

“Just a copy, he can keep the originals. He can come make the copies at my office so he doesn’t even have to use his printing credits at the library,” you bargained.

“Fine, fine! I’ll ask him.”

“Perfect! Here, if you give me your phone, I’ll put my number in and you can let me know what day I can expect him.” After inputting your cell and texting yourself, you handed Mark’s phone back to him, not missing his shaky fingers. You patted his hand, softening your voice, “We’ll figure this out, Mark, alright?”

“Why?” He looked up from where your hand was still resting atop his, to your face, gnawing on his bottom lip with his baby fangs. “Why did you agree to help me? Why are you doing it so… enthusiastically?”

“I’m helping you because you asked for help. And when I was your age, and I needed help doing all of this, too, I had somebody there with me. I don’t know, call me crazy, but I don’t think all of us are here just to go about our lives by ourselves. I think people are supposed to rely on each other, criss-cross their lives so much until you can’t tell one line from another.”

“We’re all interconnected?”

“Yeah, or at least I think we should be, that’s how we’re meant to be. To rely on each other.” You nodded. “Not to randomly get all philosophical on you, I know you said you almost failed that class. You asked me for help, and I wanted to try to help you. No ulterior evil sphinx motive here, I promise. You can tell everybody not to worry about their poor little Markie.”

Mark’s face started turning pink. “It wasn’t really the sphinx part that they were focused on.”

“Oh?” You leaned back, propping yourself up with two hands behind you. “What was it then? Stranger danger?”

“No, not exactly…”

“Then I am stumped about what it could be,” you replied facetiously.

Mark started scrambling to his feet, his word speed picking up, “You know, it’s getting late, if we’re done, I should really get going—”

You followed him up with a grin. “Yeah, of course. You know, I’ve got work tomorrow, you’ve got class—Oh, is that it?” You breathed out in feigned realization. “Because I’m an older woman? They thought I was going to devour you in a different way?”

“Oh God—” He said under his breath, staring at the ceiling. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. “I’m really sorry, they were just kidding, you know. And I know there’s no way you’d want to—”

“Remember what I said last week, Mark?”

“W-What part?”

Leaning forward just a little, you reminded him, “Not unless you ask nicely.”

His eyes shot open to the size of dinnerplates, and you could only hold it in for a second before you were openly laughing in his face, barely having the decency to attempt to cover your mouth with your hand, which honestly did little to muffle it.

“You’re awful, Y/N,” Mark groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “Is this what endearing you gets me? Torture?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you tried to apologize through your breathless giggles. “Anyway, I’ll let you go, stop torturing you. Let me know when to expect Renjun. In the meantime, I want you to practice that first breathing exercise twice a day on your own until next Wednesday, okay?”

“Right, thanks.”

You didn’t even look up from your computer screen as you picked up your ringing desk phone. It was the ring for an internal call, meaning that it was either the front desk or one of your colleagues calling you, you didn’t need to filter those calls as much as external calls. “This is Y/N,” you answered automatically, still reviewing the timeline that had just been submitted to you.

“Uh, Ms. Y/L/N?” It was the receptionist, the poor guy sounding rather confused. “There’s a… boy here to see you?”

“A boy?” You repeated, bewildered. “What? Like, a child?”

“No, sorry, not like a little boy. College kid, Huang Renjun, says you’re expecting him?”

“Oh, oh, yes!” You lit up in recognition. “Have him wait there, I’ll be down in just a minute to grab him.”

Striding off the elevator, your eyes immediately locked onto a young man standing in the lobby, clutching a notebook to his chest as he peered around at everything suspiciously. He readjusted his backwards baseball cap minutely, checking the watch that was on that wrist as he brought his hand back down from his head.

“Renjun,” you said his name confidently, walking up to him with a bright smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Thanks for coming.”

“Damn, you’re real,” he breathed out.

“Let’s go upstairs, hm?”

The two of you were the only ones in the elevator as the doors shut. “So, what part of my existence did you doubt, exactly?” You asked, amusement in your tone. “Mark knowing me? Or my being a sphinx?”

“The first one,” Renjun had recovered from his initial shock, his voice level as he answered. “I’ve met a sphinx before.”

“And what did you have them do to you?”

“What?”

“You’ve tricked Mark into petrifying you, had your blood drank, and you want a siren to dose you up. I’m wondering what about sphinxes could provide that sort of… rush.”

“I’m not an adrenaline junkie.”

“Your words, not mine.” You held up your hands. “And I’m not judging you, Renjun. Just curious.”

“I don’t know them like that, anyway. It’s my friends’ boss.”

“So what’s on your list, then?”

“I want to solve a sphinx’s riddle.”

One of your eyebrows quirked up, and it was then that the elevator dinged and stopped on your floor. In the copy room, you held a hand out towards Renjun expectantly, and he reluctantly gave you a stack of notebook paper from within his binder. You put the first page on the pane of glass of the copier, lowered the lid, and prepared the setting to make the first copy. “I’m not giving you a riddle,” you stated into the heavy silence that had descended over the two of you.

“Why not?” Renjun whined, reminding you of a petulant child.

The copier shot out the first page, and you repeated the process with the backside. “As a Magical Creatures Studies major, I’m sure you know very well why not.”

“I would totally solve it though! You wouldn’t have to worry about me going insane!”

“You either greatly overestimate your intelligence, or greatly underestimate a sphinx’s.” You shook your head.

“Plenty of people have solved sphinx riddles.”

“And even more have gone insane trying,” you retorted. “No way am I going to even risk making you go insane.”

“I’ll sign whatever waiver you want! You won’t be liable at all!”

“But it’ll still be my fault,” you sighed. “Sol-channeling, nixing, flying, I’d show you any of that. But no riddles.”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, “Fine.”

“How’d you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Make Mark petrify you.”

“It’s all in there.”

“Yeah, but we’re going to be here for a little while I copy all these.” You put the next page on. “You can tell me how you figured it out, can’t you?”

“Well, I started by taking notes of as many parameters I could get about when, where, and how Mark was petrifying Johnny,” Renjun started, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “At first I was a bit concerned that he wouldn’t be able to petrify anybody but Johnny. But then I found that in addition to him always petrifying Johnny, one of three things was always present.”

“And what were those three things?”

“Being at home, it being nighttime—aka he was tired—or him being stressed. I figured if I could remove Johnny from the equation but hit all the other three, and conveniently hide his sunglasses, I had a pretty good chance of being petrified.”

“And what if he had accidentally turned you to stone for real?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “He’s a developing basilisk with absolutely no control over his powers, he could have seriously hurt you, or worse.”

Renjun shrugged. “That was a risk I was willing to take.”

“Yeah, for the both of you,” you scoffed, throwing the lid of the copier open and accidentally hitting the wall behind it in the process. “Do you know how awful Mark would’ve felt if he had actually turned one of his friends to stone? And then he had to live with that for the rest of his longer-than-human life? Did you even think about that before tricking him into petrifying you for some stupid fucking magic junkie bucket list?”

The human seemed to be at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth several times before he looked down at his shoes, going silent.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, Renjun.” You closed the lid on the next page, turning to look at him pointedly. He was looking incredibly guilty, but you weren’t going to let him get away with a noncommittal silence. “Look, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that your heart is in the right place, and you’re just genuinely curious about all this stuff, but your magical friends are not just here for your entertainment. Whatever they do to you, they have to live with too. You know that, right?”

He sighed bitterly, and after another long, contemplative pause, nodded. “You’re right, you’re right.”

“Yeah, I know I am.”

You sent Renjun off with his original notes and hopefully a lot to think about. You yourself didn’t have too much more work left to do, and locked yourself in your office to go over the copies you’d made. He’d been thorough, and you were realizing that Mark really hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d called his friend crazy. About thirty minutes before the end of the workday, there was a timid knock at your door, and you put down the papers to go answer the door. It was one of your team members, who timidly informed you of a horrible error that had happened that would put the entire project back by two days if it wasn’t fixed today. It was really nobody’s fault, so you took a few deep breaths, rolled up your sleeves, and got to work with everybody else. It was Wednesday, though, and you kept an eye on the time as you worked, running mental calculations in the back of your mind as to when you’d have to text Mark to let him know you’d be late getting home. Thankfully, it was all solved right before then, and you were able to run out the door at just the right time where if you speedwalked and made every light perfectly, you’d be home right on time.

And so you burst into your hallway at exactly 5:59 p.m., spotting Mark on your welcome mat, just lifting his fist to your door to knock. “I’m here!” You called out to him, making him whip around, the surprise apparent on his features. “I’m here, sorry, I’m here. Got held up at work.”

“Hey, no worries,” he flashed you a bright smile, stepping out of your way to let you unlock your front door. “Everything alright?”

You threw an exasperated look at him over your shoulder as you disarmed your alarm, then led the way into your apartment. “Heavenly Sol, don’t get me started. Computers are out to get us all, I swear.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mark nodded, closing the door behind you two and flicking the latch. “Add printers to the list, too. I can never figure out the ones in the library when I have an assignment due.”

You threw your purse onto your kitchen table haphazardly, starting to look through your fridge for dinner ingredients. “Oh shit, I was going to pick up stuff for dinner on my way home, but then everything fucking caught on fire right before I was supposed to leave.”

“That’s okay, Y/N,” the basilisk reassured you. “We can just order pizza or something, alright?”

“Yeah, okay, pizza.” You shut your fridge, rubbing your face in frustration.

“I’ll call and order it, you go get out of your work clothes and stuff. Sound like a plan?”

You took a deep breath. “Sure. Thanks, Markie.”

He beamed at you again, letting you get a full view of his baby fangs. “See? I’m not totally useless.”

“Nobody said you were except you,” you finally chuckled, patting his cheek on your way out of the kitchen.

Jongin had invited everyone around to his place for another dinner party, and you were the first one to arrive tonight. You’d already cracked open a bottle of wine—you snooze, you lose, Baekhyun and Minseok—and were tipping back your first glass of the night as Jongin finished up the food preparations.

“Y/N, how’s your basilisk doing?” Your friend asked, plating a serving of pasta.

“He’s doing alright. It’s been a little rough these past few weeks, if I’m going to be honest with you,” you sighed, doing another heavy pour for yourself. “I taught him some breathing exercises, and those helped a bit, but I can only watch him breathe for so long.”

Jongin made a noise of acknowledgment, but didn’t say anything else, fingertips messing with a silver chain around his neck.

“Do you… have any tips for me?” You asked, used to his minimalist way of communicating.

Your friend pulled out from under his shirt the pendant that hung at the end of that silver chain. It was a black gem that could fit neatly into his palm, obsidian, an intricate weaving design of a snake carved out of the face of it. “Does he have an anchor?”

You habitually twisted the ring around your right ring finger. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Find him one.” He tucked the necklace back under his shirt. “Get him out of his head.”

“Right. Thanks, Jongin.”

A flurry of excited knocks came from the front door, and you and Jongin exchanged knowing looks. You threw open the door to see an excited Baekhyun and already beaming Minseok, the former’s eyes lighting up even as he gasped in mock offense.

“You started drinking without us?!” The siren threw a hand over his chest as he locked in on the glass in your hand and open bottle on the kitchen island.

“Yep, you’re a glass and a half behind,” you taunted, guiding him in by the arm he had around your shoulders. “Better catch up, Baekhyunnie.”

“She opened that not even ten minutes ago,” Jongin informed the other two flatly in lieu of a proper greeting.

“Fuckin’ narc.” You stuck your tongue out at him as Baekhyun started pouring for him and Minseok. Minseok, meanwhile, was over by the vinyl record player, flicking through Jongin’s collection until he picked one that he liked, and swapped out the classical music that the basilisk already had playing.

“I was listening to that,” Jongin complained as a funky, upbeat pop melody started coming through the speakers.

“And now you’re listening to this,” Minseok retorted. “Much better party music.”

“And you people wonder why I don’t invite you to events with my colleagues,” the basilisk sighed, taking out his bottle of witch’s brew from the fridge. His slit pupils trailed over the figures of you and Baekhyun, not nearly tipsy enough for the kind of dancing you were doing, but doing it nonetheless. “Heathens, the lot of you.”

“Oh, like we didn’t all go to college together,” Baekhyun fired back, mischievous glint in his eye. “We all know what you used to get up to on that stuff, Jongin. Before you started playing pretend at being respectable and refined.”

“Yeah, come on, NiNi!” You tugged him into the living room by his wrist, playing absolutely dirty by bringing out the nickname you used to call him when you were little, little kids. When you first met, you couldn’t quite say his name, so you somehow landed on NiNi, which you called him until you could finally say it intelligibly. Even now, you only brought the nickname out when you really wanted something. And according to the now nearly two glasses of wine in you, you really wanted him to dance with the other three of you.

“God, fine,” he rolled his eyes, taking a deep swig of the witch’s brew before letting you fully tug him into the mess.

The following Wednesday found you opening up your door a few minutes early, 5:55. Mark was already pink-eared and covering his face with his hands. “God, let me in, please, please,” he groaned, making you cock your head curiously.

Before you could ask what was going on, you heard a couple wolf whistles and taunts from further down the hall, and spotted a gaggle of college boys heading towards you. Or, rather, heading towards your neighbors’ apartment, presumably, as you spotted Chenle and Jisung in the throng of students. You opened your door wider for Mark, who didn’t even wait for you to move as he ducked under your arm to run inside. With a final humorous glance at the group, you turned around to face the anxiously pacing basilisk.

“And what are you so worked up for?” You asked with a chuckle, shutting your door behind him. “You just got here, take a breather.”

He gesticulated at the closed door, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, because they all think we’re—”

“Having sex? I know.” You laughed again and headed back into your kitchen.

“And you don’t care?”

Pivoting on your heel to focus a pointed look on him, you put your hands squarely on your hips as you told him frankly, “Mark. I’m a grown ass woman. Whatever ideas my two college kid neighbors and their little twerp friends have about my sex life are so beyond the realm of things that I care about.”

“Oh.” He blinked, and you could practically see the gears turning in his brain as he processed that. “Of course.”

With that settled in your mind, you turned your back on him again to attend to your cooking, continuing your conversation over your shoulder. “You should really try it, you know.”

“Try what?!” He squeaked as he was halfway through taking his backpack off his shoulder and setting it down beside the couch.

“Not caring so much about what other people think about you. You know they’re only doing all that because you’re reacting like this.”

“I know, I know,” he admitted with a sigh, his voice much closer now. You heard the scrape of one of the stools at your kitchen island as he pulled it out to sit down and watch you cook.

“So, have you been working on—”

“Wait, do you think I’m a twerp?”

You pivoted around, knife in hand. “Three seconds ago I would’ve said no, except you just interrupted me, so yes, I think you’re a rude little twerp with no manners.”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “Sorry, sorry.”

“So have you been working on the breathing techniques I showed you?” You tossed the last bits in the container, sealing it up before putting it in the fridge.

“Yeah.”

Putting everything into the sink to be washed up later, you spun around to look at Mark eagerly, “Good. Now come on, grab your bag.”

“Wait, we’re done already?” 

“No, we’re going shopping.”

“I thought you were cooking dinner?”

“Yeah, that’s my dinner for tomorrow, it’s got to marinate overnight. You and I are eating out tonight. Come on!” You clapped your hands together in a hup-hup gesture, and Mark scrambled to grab his bag before meeting you at the front door.

“For a lot of magical creatures who were born with their powers, they often see it as shameful to use objects to focus or help them harness their abilities,” you explained to Mark as you stopped in front of your first destination. He rushed to hold the door open for you, and you gave him a nod and grateful smile as you continued, “Save for witches, of course, that’s kind of their whole thing. But for beings like us, whose powers come on later, a lot of times having an external object can help ground us a lot better and give us something physical to tie this new part of us to while we’re learning to use it.”

“What kind of object?” He asked, looking around the apothecary hesitantly.

“It’s different for every kind of being, and even for every individual. That’s why I couldn’t just show up with some rock and say ‘here you go!’ You need to pick it out for yourself.”

“What’s yours?”

You held up your right hand, where a toffee brown gem gleamed from a silver setting on one of your fingers. “Tiger’s eye ring. My grandmother gave it to me when she was helping me out with my powers.”

“It’s really pretty.”

“She said she got it from a witch ‘friend’ of hers a while back,” you commented humorously. “Anyway, anything speaking to you?”

He looked over the merchandise around you, and sighed. “I mean, it’s all cool, but... nothing really jumps out.”

“That’s fine, don’t force it. This is just the first aisle of the first store we’re looking in. Deep breath, Mark.”

“Right, okay. It can be anything?”

“Anything. Doesn’t have to be a stone, doesn’t have to be jewelry, those are just sort of the most popular items. I hate to have to say this but... you’ll know it when you see it. You just will.”

“Y/N.” He said your name flatly. “I have never been that sure of anything in my entire life.”

You tried to keep in your giggles at his clearly exasperated expression. Tweaking one of his cheeks, you reassured him, “First time for everything, Markie.”

Three apothecaries and a 24-hour ramen place later, and you could tell Mark was Over It, capital O, capital I. He had really been trying his best, engaging with every miscellaneous item that you showed to him, but you could tell that none of them were it for him. Leaving the last shop for the night, you opted not to take him into another one, instead meandering away from the shopping district downtown that you had been in.

“I’m sorry I’m such a dud, Y/N,” Mark groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“No, you’re not, Mark,” you tried to reassure him. “You’re just… taking it at your own pace.”

“Was that supposed to make me feel better? You might as well have called me a late bloomer.”

“What’s wrong with being a late bloomer?”

“That’s what people tell losers so they don’t feel like losers.”

You rolled your eyes. “And that’s how I can tell you’re still a kid, Markie.”

“What?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a so-called loser, or a late bloomer, or taking things at your own pace. Part of growing up, and becoming an adult, a real grown-up, is realizing that there’s no one prescribed path and way to do things. Especially when it comes to being a magical being.”

“That’s easy to say when you’re already a grown-up.”

“I suppose.” You shrugged. “Here, I’ll let you in on a secret, hm?”

“Oh yeah?”

“When was your first kiss?”

“What?” He sputtered out. “I thought you were going to tell me a secret?!”

“Humor me.”

He mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“Seventeen, okay?!” He huffed. “Listen, it was my first girlfriend and—”

“Twenty-one,” you cut him off with a shrug.

“What?”

“My first kiss was when I was twenty-one,” you repeated nonchalantly. “You thought I had it a lot earlier, didn’t you?”

“It’s not like I was really hypothesizing about it or anything—”

“But the way you told me about yours, you got defensive, like you had assumed yours was late or something, and that I was going to judge you, because I must have had mine earlier than seventeen,” you pointed out. “But I didn’t.”

“But you’re… you’re so… Why?” His face screwed up in confusion.

“That was my first serious boyfriend,” you explained. “I wanted it to be special. I didn’t expect it to take that long, but it did.”

“And what was the point of this?”

“There’s nothing wrong with whatever pace your life is going at, Mark. I don’t think ‘late bloomers’ even exist, because that implies there’s a benchmark to do something by, and having it happen after that therefore makes you late.”

Mark was quiet for a few moments as you continued walking. “You really think I’m still a kid?”

“Oh yeah,” you ruffled his hair. “Only a kid would be worried about if someone thinks they’re a kid.”

He made a disgruntled sound at you messing up his hair, but did nothing to move out of the way of your hand. “Where are we even going now? Another store?”

“Nah.” You led the way off the sidewalk and into the grass, towards the river that cut through the center of town. Traffic hummed overhead where a bridge crossed the water, and you stopped at a rocky patch to pick up a smooth pebble, tossing it up and down a few times. Looking over your shoulder at a skeptical Mark, you asked, “You know how to skip rocks?”

You tossed your first one, managing to skip it a few times before it plopped under the surface. Grabbing another rock, you pushed it into Mark’s hand insistently. “Oh, gross, it’s cold and wet,” he wrinkled his nose, but readied his arm nevertheless.

“You’re literally a basilisk, dude,” you retorted, watching him line up his shot.

“Rude.”

“Hey, I don’t mind.” You held up your hands defensively. “I’m just saying.”

He got it two-thirds of the way across, and shrugged. “Eh…”

“First one to skip it all the way across wins?” You suggested with a smirk.

“Wins what?”

“Mmm…” You hummed thoughtfully. “I got it! Winner earns a secret.”

“Huh?”

“Winner earns a secret of their choosing from the loser. If I win, I can ask you to tell me a secret about whatever topic I want. If you win, same goes for you.”

“Why would I agree to that?”

You grinned. “Because you want to know more about me, don’t you, Markie?”

He gulped, then started looking around at the rocks down by his feet. “Fine. But don’t ask me anything weird if you win.”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that?” You snickered, searching for your own rock to toss.

Mark went first, and his almost made it, but lost momentum about eighty percent of the way there. You went next, flicking your wrist the complete wrong way, only getting one skip before your rock pathetically plopped under the surface. The basilisk next to you giggled. “Are you even trying?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Like you’re doing any better, you little shit.”

“Real mature,” he shook his head, brushing off some dirt from the rock he just picked up. “Real grown-up of you. Who’s the kid here, allegedly?”

“Just throw it.” You were already searching for your next pebble.

“So, did you say anything to Renjun, when you met him?”

“What do you mean? Of course I talked to him.”

“No, I mean like—” Mark flicked his arm a couple times in practice shots, maintaining his hold on his stone. “He apologized to me, for tricking me into petrifying him and bought me lunch. Renjun doesn’t apologize.”

“Oh,” you feigned surprise. “That’s nice of him.”

“Y/N.”

“I didn’t threaten him, if that’s what you’re asking. We chatted. He apparently thought some more afterwards.” You finally spotted a lovely lighter colored one, with dark, perfectly circular spots all along it. You couldn’t quite make out the colors in the negligible light from the moon and lone streetlamp all the way up on the bridge, but you liked the weight of it in your hand.

You looked up just in time to watch Mark skip his rock all the way across the river, skidding up onto the shore on the other side. He jumped up and down victoriously, turning around to look at you, excitement on his features. “Yes! Did you see that?!” He cheered, an ecstatic grin on his face. “Ha! Take that!”

“Good job, Markie,” you snickered, holding a hand up for him to high-five zealously. Your palm stung where he had smacked it enthusiastically, a loud slap of skin hitting skin ringing out. Taking your phone out, you turned on your flashlight to look at the rock that you had found, taking in the mossy green color and dark red spots. “Huh, cool.”

As you were about to toss it back into the water, Mark’s hand darted out to grab your wrist. “Wait a second…”

“What?” You looked at him curiously. “You want to try to make it across twice? You won’t get two secrets from me. Sorry, one-time offer.”

“No,” he shook his head, holding your hand open to stare down at the stone. “It’s… it’s a nice rock.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agreed, continuing to study his face. “Do you… want to keep it, Mark?”

“Do you mind?”

“No, go for it.” You turned your hand over, depositing it into his palm. “All yours.”

He continued looking at it with fascination, fingertip tracing over the textured edges. “Y/N… I think this is my anchor.”

“I think you’re right.” You patted him on the shoulder. “Congrats, dude.”

“Hey, can I uh, take a raincheck on asking you for that secret? I kind of want to think on it.”

“Sure. Use it wisely.”

“I just got home, Sehun, what could be so pertinent that you need to call me now?” You sighed as you answered your ringing cell phone some weeks later. “And why are you still at work? You said only ten more minutes, thirty minutes ago.”

Your coworker sounded simultaneously guilty, nervous, and as exasperated as you, “I know, but Director Han was asking to see some of the numbers and then, well... I got this email from Mr. Shin. I don’t know how to respond. I forwarded it to you.”

Sitting down at your kitchen table, you opened your laptop, which turned on already to your work email. Right at the top was a forwarded email from Oh Sehun, and you clicked on it. You skimmed it over, your lip curling with distaste. Mr. Shin was a project manager in another department, and was apparently trying to assign “urgent tasks” to your employees that needed to be on his desk first thing tomorrow. Sehun would’ve needed to stay all night and/or come in ridiculously early tomorrow in order to get this done. “I’ll handle Mr. Shin, don’t worry about doing any of this. You go home. Now.” You directed Sehun. “And I’ll remind Director Han in the morning about the company’s overtime policy as well.”

“Right. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Sehun.”

Setting your phone aside, you quickly drafted an email in reply to Mr. Shin, keeping your snark to appropriate corporate levels, reminding him that he couldn’t assign tasks to your employees, and any requests such as this had to come through you first. As well as outlining the unreasonableness of the time demands.

“So what do you do?” Mark asked, suddenly reminding you of his presence. It was Wednesday, though your usual dinnertime ritual had been interrupted before it could even start, Sehun’s call coming as soon as the college student had stepped foot in your apartment.

“I’m a project manager at a company that does network security for other companies,” you informed him, not taking your eyes off your screen as you went to re-read the email for a quick proofread.

“Project manager?”

“I manage a bunch of other people’s projects instead of actually working on them myself, and get paid more than them for it.” You filled in a missing word, and deeming the email finished, pressed send, shutting your laptop. Looking up at Mark, who had an adorably confused look on his face, you gave him a smirk. “When you grow up, Markie, you’ll understand that most corporate jobs are fake and it’s all about your title and how well you can negotiate your salary and bullshit in front of your boss.”

“So you don’t like your job?”

You shrugged. “I like it just fine. It pays for me to live here by myself, after all. I have reasonable hours, and plenty of free time, vacation days, and disposable income. I keep my subordinates and my superiors happy. But if I got a better offer at another company, and my company couldn’t match it, I would have no qualms about packing it up next week.”

“Seriously?” His eyes widened.

“Seriously.”

“Just-Just leaving?” His voice rose with alarm.

“The company, yeah. Not here. I have a life here. My family, and my friends,” you explained, standing up from your dining table.

You could see him visibly relax at that. “Oh, okay.”

“And my Markie,” you teased, pinching his cheek as you passed him on your way to the kitchen.

He squirmed a little, but didn’t knock your hand away. “Hey...”

You laughed to yourself, stopping at the sink to wash your hands before starting on dinner.

“Am I not your friend?” Mark’s question stopped you as you were grabbing ingredients from the fridge.

“Huh?” It was your turn to be confused. Your hand hovered over a bell pepper.

“You said you have your family, your friends, and me. You didn’t include me in your friends. Am I not your friend?” His voice was closer now, and you shut the door to turn towards it, not expecting him to be right on the other side. You jumped in your skin a bit, but that wasn’t the only reason your heart was racing, and a shiver shot up your spine all the way to the back of your neck. Mark’s dark, slit pupils were focused on you with such an intensity that you would’ve thought he were trying to petrify you if the both of you didn’t already know that that wouldn’t work. There was something so startlingly adult in his gaze, all sense of boyish charm that his features usually held gone as the overhead lights of your kitchen cast them in harsh shadows and angles. For the first time ever when you looked at Mark, you were reminded that basilisks were technically predators.

You laughed, hoping he couldn’t hear how nervous you were in it. Wishing your heart to still, you squeezed his upper arm reassuringly. “Oh, no, of course you’re my friend. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out like that.”

Were his arms always this toned? Or was this just the first time you noticed it?

Mark held your gaze for another moment before he blinked, shook his head, and smiled, “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry about that. School’s just fried my brain, you know?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled back, patting his shoulder before opening the fridge again.

“You need any help?”

“Sure, sure. You mind chopping some vegetables?” You held the bell pepper out to him.

He nodded dutifully. “On it!”

As he started on that task with the same eagerness to please that he always had, you found that you couldn’t box him back in as just that cute bumbling college kid who had appeared on your doorstep a few weeks ago. Gently pressing your hand to his back to let him know that you were skirting around behind him with your own knife, you took note of how firm it was under your fleeting touch, hidden under another one of his school t-shirts that hung off his shoulders in such a way that it seemed as though every readjustment of his arms caused the motion to catch your gaze. When he asked you to assess the cuts he was making, you had to reach over to adjust how he was holding the bell pepper and knife, listening to his own heartbeat for a twofold reason: to not have to hear to your own spike as your gaze dragged over his forearms and hands where they gripped the handle, and because you were curious. You weren’t a fool, you knew Mark was attracted to you superficially the moment you opened your door the first night. But what about now?

You carefully made a couple minute adjustment to his fingers, letting your own fingertips graze over his skin and linger for just a moment longer than necessary, as if you were making extra certain he had the right position. To your satisfaction, you heard his heart pick up to more of a skitter, and his breaths through his nose quickened. Then, you let go of him as quick as you’d descended.

“Try that now,” you murmured. He pushed the blade down and sliced it through the red pepper easily, at the perfect width. You squeezed right at the bend of his arm approvingly as you praised him, “Good job, Mark.”

“T-Thanks.” The tips of his ears were red, and you could feel his arm tense under your grasp. Taking your hand back to pick your blade up again, you then went back to chopping your own ingredients.

A few weeks later, and Mark had been progressing pretty well now that he had an anchor. You’d taken his stone to a local coven’s shop downtown to get it turned into a pendant so he didn’t have to worry about remembering to put it in his pocket every day. Interestingly when given free rein to match the carving to him without either of your input, the witches had crafted a lion instead of anything serpentine, as was popular for basilisks. On a Wednesday morning, you had just settled into your desk at work when your phone buzzed with a text from Mark.

[markie: i am SO sorry but my prof just announced a study session tonight and i NEED to attend. are you free any other time this week? if not, next week is great as usual!]

[you: saturday. 10:30 a.m. be there or be square]

[markie: be there or be square? i forgot how old you are]

[you: nvm don’t come over you ungrateful twerp]

[you: i was joking, Sol forbid women do anything]

[markie: nooooooo im so sorry 🥺🥺🥺]

[you: nice try but those emojis are doing nothing you googoo gaga ass bitch]

[markie: i'll bring bagels?]

[you: fine. no bagels no entry]

[markie: 🫡]

Saturday at 10:29 a.m. there was a knock at your front door. Mark was in fact on the other side, holding up a brown paper bag with a logo of a nearby bakery on the side.

“Hey, come on in.” You smiled breathlessly, readjusting the toddler on your hip.

“Thanks.” He shut the door behind him, then nodded to the child. “So uh, anything new, Y/N?”

“He’s not mine,” you replied frankly. “This is my nephew. I’m emergency babysitting, hope you don’t mind. We had already rescheduled once, and it was last-minute.”

“No, of course not. Little guy’s cute.” Mark gently poked MinMin’s chubby cheek, making the little boy giggle, and the basilisk giggle back in turn. “So this is what a baby sphinx looks like...”

“Not a sphinx, he’s a wittle witch.” You cooed at the baby in your arms, gently pinching his tummy to elicit another joyous laugh.

“Huh?”

“He’s not actually related to me, he’s my friend’s kid. I’ve just known Jongdae—his dad—for so long that I get to be Aunt Y/N.”

“That’s really nice... So what’s his name?”

“Everyone just calls him MinMin. I don’t think the poor guy will ever be called by his real name unless he’s in trouble.”

“Oof, the full name scolding.”

“Speaking of... Did you remember, Mark Lee?”

“Ouch. You can literally see the bag in my hands.” He shook the bag before putting it on the dining table.

“I meant your homework, not the bagels.”

“Oh.” Mark grabbed a couple dishes from your kitchen cabinets, setting them at your usual places before doing the same with napkins. “Yes, I did that too.”

You sat down, settling MinMin in your lap as you peered into the bag for your usual bagel order, setting it on your plate. “Alright, then show me.”

“Uh... with MinMin here?” Mark asked uncertainly, looking at the child.

“Oh, right. Hold on.” You stood up and walked over to the diaper bag Jongdae had dropped off when he’d shown up and deposited MinMin into your arms in a rushed panic. His wife was an emergency medicine doctor and had gotten called into a shift at the ER in the wee hours of the morning, but your friend was already booked to perform at a wedding that day, and the only babysitter he could find at the last minute was you. You were more than happy to take MinMin for the day, even with your prior arrangements with Mark.

Rooting around through a couple of the pockets, moving aside diapers, snacks, and spare changes of clothes, you finally secured what you were looking for. A teeny, tiny, baby-sized pair of sunglasses. Taking him and the glasses back over to your spot in front of Mark, you sat MinMin down in your lap and gently pulled the green Keroppi-themed sunglasses onto the child’s face. They secured around the back of his head with a strap, which you adjusted as you spoke to Mark, “He would probably be fine, but just in case.”

Mark still seemed hesitant.

“His parents are witches, these are enchanted,” you reassured the basilisk, tapping the frames. “And I’ll be nixing anything you send our way. He’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Aren’t we supposed to eat first?” He sighed, gesturing to his bagel that he hadn’t even been able to take a bite of.

“You’re right, you’re right,” you relented. You were a few bites into your meal when MinMin had finished off his sippy cup. Picking up the empty container, you took it and the toddler with you as you stood up from the chair. “Oh, all done, bub? Let’s get you something else.”

Opening your fridge, you started pointing out the options to the child, “Let’s see… we have water, your dad left you a juice box… or we can open the chocolate milk we grabbed from the corner store before Markie got here?”

“Choco!” MinMin chirped excitedly, and you chuckled as you took out the carton. As you turned to grab the sippy cup, you weren’t expecting to see Mark turned around and peering at you with interest on his features, his eyes locked on the jug in your hand. You raised an eyebrow at him, continuing your task of rinsing out the previous drink before cracking open the carton.

“Mark…” You said knowingly. “Do you want chocolate milk?”

“Please?” He replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sure.” You smiled to yourself as you grabbed another cup from your cabinet, filling that and MinMin’s up before putting the chocolate milk back. Handing MinMin his sippy cup to hold, you carried him on one hip and Mark’s glass with the other hand, setting it down in front of the young man as you went to sit back down.

“Thank you!” He beamed, immediately picking it up and taking a big gulp.

You had the same fond smile on your face as you immediately saw his dark milk mustache, handing him a napkin. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you!” MinMin echoed, lifting his own sippy cup to his mouth. “Thank you thank you!”

“Aww, you’re welcome, MinMin,” you giggled, patting the top of the boy’s head.

“Alright, you’re doing pretty good,” you declared as you’d reached a stopping point for the day.

He ducked his head bashfully. “You’re a good teacher.”

“Aw, thanks.” You stood up, grabbing the napkin from MinMin’s snack to toss in your kitchen trash. The boy was playing with some toys next to the two of you on the floor of your living room.

“So uh—” Mark cleared his throat over a voice crack. “What are you doing for the rest of the day? Do you have MinMin all day or…?”

“Jongdae said the reception won’t be over until late tonight. But his wife should get off sooner than that.” You tidied up a couple miscellaneous items in your kitchen as you chatted. “And what are you doing today, Mark?”

“Well—Woah!” At his sudden exclamation and the small giggle that followed, you peeked up from the dish you were drying to see Mark cautiously holding his hands up like he was under arrest as MinMin floundered around in his lap—you guessed he had fallen into it at first—for a second before righting himself and plopping down properly. “Uh… hi, buddy?” Mark said, his lack of self-confidence evident in the high pitch of his voice.

“Hi!” MinMin replied cheerily, his attention otherwise on the toy in his hand.

“You two alright in there?” You questioned, not bothering to hide the amusement in your tone.

“He just kind of sat down, I don’t know,” he quickly explained, still not lowering his hands.

“If you’re okay with him being there, that’s fine.”

“Y-Yeah!”

“You sure?” You walked back over, sitting down in front of the two boys so you could reach out and teasingly pinch MinMin’s nose. “You look terrified. He’s a baby witch, but he won’t do anything to you, promise.”

“It’s just… I have an older brother, and I’m the youngest cousin,” he admitted. “Haven’t really been around a lot of babies. Basilisk or otherwise.”

“Me neither, before MinMin,” you replied in understanding. “Only child, and so were my parents.”

“Wow, really?”

“Sphinxes are rare, remember?”

“I mean, I knew that, but I never really thought about what that really meant like, for you. Like, your family, that kind of stuff.”

You shrugged as a sort of ‘it is what it is’ gesture. “So, you never did tell me what you’re doing today.”

“Oh, uhm, well, we’re all having a movie night, at Chenle and Jisung’s later. And I was wondering if you—”

“Would let you stay here until then so you don’t have to go all the way back home then come all the way back here?” You finished knowingly, eyebrow quirking up.

“Yeah! Yeah, exactly,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Sure,” you agreed. “Looks like MinMin isn’t going to let you go anytime soon, anyway.” You indicated towards the toddler who had slowly started slumping over in Mark’s lap, very clearly about to nap.

“Uh, what do I do?” He asked you with wide eyes.

“He can sleep there, or I can take him.”

“Maybe you should…”

You nodded, standing up to go over to MinMin’s bag and pull out a floor mat, stuffed animal, and baby monitors. After setting everything up in a clear area of your floor, you scooped the boy up out of Mark’s lap and deposited him onto the mat on his back. You watched as he rolled around and readjusted until he was comfy, eyes fluttering shut completely and breathing evening out. Satisfied, you walked back over to Mark and offered him a hand up off the ground. He took it, seeming confused as you then led him away from the living room and towards your bedroom. At your room, Mark stopped in the threshold like crossing in would burn him alive, as you flopped onto one side of your bed, set the baby monitor on your nightstand, and grabbed your laptop. You scoffed and patted the other side of the bed, “Do you need to be invited inside like a vampire? Please, come in, Mark.”

“I’ve never been in your bedroom,” he muttered, taking a hesitant step in, his eyes focused on his feet.

“Really?” You scrounged through your memories, and came up empty. Shrugging, you patted the empty space on your bed insistently again. “First time for everything. Come on, we can’t watch TV out there with MinMin napping.”

He tentatively sat down cross-legged, his entire body noticeably tense as you slumped into your pillows and started scrolling through your options.

“You pick,” you declared, pushing the device towards him. “I’m in the middle of a drama and if I put it on, you’ll be confused.”

“I don’t mind, you can put on what you want,” he nudged the laptop back to you.

“Nope, I don’t need a twerp making fun of my drama preferences.” You pushed it back.

“Not a twerp. And I won’t make fun of it.” He pushed it over again.

“On one condition,” you bargained, pointing a finger at him threateningly. “You need to get invested. No scrolling on your phone. I’ll pause and answer any questions, explain everything for you. But I need you to be an active watcher with me. Deal?”

“Deal.” He nodded quickly.

As you queued up the next episode, you explained the basic premise, “It’s set in modern day, but there’s flashbacks from all different time periods. It’s about a phoenix who was cursed hundreds of years ago and can never remember her past once she reincarnates. This is obviously difficult for her vampire lover, who now has to win her over again with each reincarnation, but they’ve made it work so far. Except he wasn’t there when she had her last reincarnation, because she got into an accident while he was away at work or something. So in her amnesiac state after reincarnation, she wandered off, and he ended up losing her for long enough for her to have started a completely new life. And by the time he finds her again, she now has a new partner!”

Mark was nodding along, having listened to everything with rapt attention like you were teaching him about his powers again. “So that’s where this episode starts?”

“No, Markie,” you laughed and patted his leg. “That was just the first half of the pilot. We’re about to start episode eight.”

“Wait, that’s it?!” Mark scrolled down to the bottom of the list of episodes in disbelief. “But they just can’t leave it there!”

“The season is still premiering,” you informed him with a chuckle, readjusting your pillow under your head. “I think there’s maybe five more episodes?”

He had gradually sat back against the pillows at the head of your bed over the course of the two episodes you’d watched, and ran a hand through his hair as he let out a disgruntled sigh. “You’ve got to tell me how it ends.”

“It premieres on Fridays at 8:00.”

His brows knit together with confusion as he tried to follow the conversation. “It’s okay, I won’t make you wait five days to watch it with me.”

It was your turn to be confused for a beat, and then you realized that he thought you were offering to not watch new episodes when they premiered on Fridays and instead watch them with him when he came over on the following Wednesday. “No, Mark, if you want to watch it, you can come here and watch it. On Friday.” You clarified, then at his apparent surprise, tacked on, “With me.”

“But I thought you didn’t want to give up your Friday nights?”

“Yeah, because I’ve been watching this,” you gestured to the laptop screen. “No magic, that stays on Wednesdays. Fridays are for ‘Our Love from the Ashes’ only. Deal?”

You held your pinky finger out to him. He looked down at it nervously, then hooked his with it. “Deal,” he nodded, shaking pinkies in a very business-like manner.

At the same time, you started hearing the babbling sounds of MinMin waking up, and your phone screen lit up with a text. You grabbed both the baby monitor and your phone as you rolled off your bed, checking your messages and heading for your door. Covering your mouth, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped.

“What?” Mark was following you, and stopped when you did by the threshold.

“Jongdae’s gig got cut short. He’ll be by to get MinMin soon,” you said, reading the message from your friend again.

“‘Got cut short?’”

You looked up at the basilisk as you said plainly, “Groom got cold feet, apparently.”

His eyes widened. “Oh my god…”

There was a knock at your front door less than an hour later. “MinMin, that’s your Dada!” You told the toddler enthusiastically, pulling on his last shoe as he sat in your lap.

He kicked his feet excitedly, making the task more difficult. “Eee!”

“Mark, can you get his diaper bag for me?” You requested of the basilisk, who was standing off to the side uncertainly.

“Yeah, of course.” He quickly went to oblige.

You walked over to the front door holding one of MinMin’s hands, and opened it for your friend. Jongdae was still in the full suit he was meant to perform in, bowtie and all, and stepped inside to give you a hug hello. “Hi, Y/N,” he patted your back. “Thank you again.”

“Hey, Jongdae,” you hugged your friend back. “No problem, he was great for us. I feel so sorry for that poor bride, though.”

“I know, I know.” He shook his head.

“Please tell me you’re still getting paid, right? At least a half-day or a deposit or something?”

“I keep my deposit, yeah. I usually don’t insist on much more if it’s not a mutual cancellation. Feel too bad…” He rubbed the back of his neck before picking up his son, focusing a much brighter smile on him. “Hi, MinMin! Were you good for Aunt Y/N?”

The boy nodded quickly. “Yeah!”

Jongdae then turned back to you, “So who did you say was coming over again? Baek?”

Mark finally approached from where he had been awkwardly hovering by your dining table just behind Jongdae, holding MinMin’s diaper bag. You stepped in to make introductions, grabbing Mark’s arm to bring him closer. “Jongdae, this is Mark, the basilisk I’ve mentioned, remember? Mark, this is Jongdae.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mark said politely, offering out the bag.

“You too.” Jongdae accepted the bag, giving the younger man a quick, mildly intrigued once-over before looking back to you. “We owe you one, Y/N.”

“No you don’t, you know he’s welcome here anytime. He’s a little angel.”

“For now. The terrible twos are around the corner,” your friend scoffed, turning towards the door again.

“You’re going to jinx yourself,” you warned him, grabbing the door handle to hold it open for him.

“I’ll throw some salt over my shoulder when I get home.” He shook his head, then gave you and Mark a nod goodbye. “See you two. Say bye, MinMin.”

“Bye!” The boy waved zealously over his dad’s shoulder, and you grinned and waved back before shutting the door behind them.

Turning back to your one remaining guest, you tilted your head to ask, “When does movie night start?” Before Mark could answer, however, the sounds of explosions and engines revving came through your living room wall, albeit slightly muffled. “Right now?” You guessed, amused.

“Oh, didn’t even realize the time…” Mark’s ears were pink as he looked at his phone as if checking said time.

“It was very sweet of you to stay, Mark, but you could’ve gone to movie night. You saw how good MinMin was, I would’ve been fine with him on my own,” you smiled and squeezed his arm appreciatively, herding him towards the door.

“There’s still dishes—”

“You want to do my dishes?” You laughed. “College boy who wants to do dishes instead of go to a movie night with his friends? What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, I just—I don’t know, it’s not fair. You do everything.”

“It’s my home. You’re my guest.” You cocked your head curiously. “It’s okay, Mark.”

“Well, I’m here a lot, you know? You’re already helping me with my powers and stuff. I want to help you too.”

“Okay, you can start doing your own dishes if that’ll make you feel better,” you agreed skeptically. “Next week. Go on, I’m sure they’re going to give you enough shit as is for being late.”

“It’s not just the dishes,” he mumbled under his breath, stuffing his feet in his shoes. You weren’t sure if you were meant to hear that.

As he went to grab the door handle, you put a hand on the door to keep him from opening it. “I want you to bring Johnny next time.”

“What?!” He squeaked.

“Bring Johnny when you come on Wednesday. You need to practice using your powers on someone they’ll actually work on.”

“I don’t think that’s a good—”

“I’ll be right here, Mark,” you reminded him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll see if he can come.”

At 5:58 p.m. the following Wednesday, there was a knock at your front door. You opened the door to two figures this time, Mark’s familiar face and another young man behind him, a head taller than him. “Mark! And you must be Johnny.” You beamed at the two of them, beckoning them in and then introducing yourself to the human, “I’m Y/N, please, come in.”

“Thank you for inviting me over.” Johnny nodded politely as he followed Mark in.

You furrowed your brows, looking over at the basilisk suspiciously. “Mark, you did tell him why we invited him over, right?”

“I did, I swear!” He promised.

“I know it might sound kind of weird, for me to be thanking you for inviting me to get petrified and compelled or whatever, but I want to help Mark out however I can. So really, thanks,” the human smiled genuinely.

You relaxed at this, guiding them further into your apartment. “Well in that case, you’re welcome.”

“Y/N, bathroom?” Mark pointed down your hall.

“You know where it is.” You waved him off as you headed towards the kitchen to grab three glasses.

Johnny followed you into the kitchen, careful to lower his voice as he told you, “Besides, none of our friends have even met you, and we’re all kind of curious about Mark’s new older lady friend that he keeps talking about, so I just had to come, petrification be damned.”

“I do hate to burst your bubble, Johnny, but Chenle and Jisung have met me before. They live next door,” you informed him.

“Oh, Mark’s other friends?”

“Yeah, I guess. He hasn’t drawn me a diagram, so I don’t have a perfect idea of who knows who, sorry.”

“Well, of our other friend group, I’ll be the first to have met you, then.”

“And? Am I everything you all had dreamed of? The mysterious sphinx in her lair luring poor little Markie in every week?” You opened your fridge, skimming your eyes over your drink options. “Wine? Beer? Water? Chocolate milk?”

Johnny chuckled, “Is that for ‘Markie?’”

“No,” you snickered. “My nephew was over this past weekend, but I figured I’d offer it to you guys since I had extra.”

“What kind of wine?”

“A very lovely red. The grapes are grown in a vineyard in this fairy kingdom whose vale naturally produces magical dew. It’s hard to describe, but the flavor that gets imparted is… exquisite to say the least.”

“Sold.”

You poured two glasses of the red wine, then filled up the third with chocolate milk. “So, if Mark hasn’t explained how this works, we’ll eat dinner first, then get into the magic stuff. It’s kind of like exercising, it’s pointless to do it on an empty stomach.”

“You’re different than I thought you’d be,” Johnny admitted thoughtfully, swirling the wine in his glass around.

“More human looking?” You guessed, expecting that you were the first sphinx he’d probably ever met. Not only were your kind rare in and of themselves, but Mark had mentioned that Johnny didn’t even meet any magical creatures until coming to college just a few years ago.

“That, and… younger?”

You snorted, Chenle’s previous ‘MILF hunter’ comment echoing in the back of your head. You set your wine down to cross your arms and cock your head as you asked him, “What do you know about sphinx and/or basilisk aging?”

“Literally nothing. Mark molted all over our apartment a couple summers ago and it was so gross but apparently that’s something that’s supposed to happen a year or two after basilisks reach adulthood.”

“So I could be a thousand years old for all you know.”

He blinked. “…Are you?”

“No.” You shook your head. “However, Mark and I will both outlive you and your grandkids, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Woah… congrats.”

“But since you brought it up…” You lifted your glass back to your lips, taking a slow sip. You then leaned in conspiratorially. “Between us, does Mark have a thing for older women?”

Johnny smirked and leaned in as well. “Why? You interested?”

“Just heard a little rumor, that’s all.”

“I don’t know about having a type, per se, but he definitely has a thing for this one older woman he knows.”

Before you could respond, you heard the door to the bathroom open, and straightened back up. Johnny furrowed his brows in confusion, and you nodded towards the entrance of the kitchen, where Mark appeared just a moment later.

“Hey guys—oh, chocolate milk! Sweet!” He happily picked up the untouched third glass. Mark then went to explain to his friend, “Y/N only buys chocolate milk when her nephew MinMin comes over. She’s way too much of a real adult to have it around otherwise.”

“Is this your passive-aggressive way of telling me I should buy chocolate milk just for you to drink when you come over?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“When you start helping foot my grocery bill, you can dictate what goes on my grocery list, how about that?”

Mark’s eyes widened at that, and he didn’t respond, instead taking another big gulp of his chocolate milk. When he brought his cup down from his face, he had a chocolate milk mustache, and offered you a big thumbs up as he grabbed for a napkin. “Thanks, Y/N! This is perfect!”

“Uh-huh,” you rolled your eyes, but were unable to fight the fond smile on your lips as you turned back to your fridge. “Alright, dinner’s pre-made ravioli, the next person who whines doesn’t eat.”

“Yum!” “My favorite!”

Sat at your dining table across from the two roommates, you took a sip of your drink before engaging your new guest in conversation again, “Are you a student as well, Johnny?”

“Yes, I’m a Comms major, focus in advertising,” he answered.

“And what do you want to do? Advertising?”

The human shrugged and smiled. “Don’t know. Something I don’t hate, I guess.”

You laughed. “That’s fair. I was the same way when I graduated undergrad. Didn’t care where I worked as long as it paid well, didn’t have crazy hours, and wasn’t so boring that I wanted to bang my head against a wall while I was there.”

“Exactly.” Johnny gestured at you triumphantly. “Where’d you end up working?”

“Network security company,” you shrugged one shoulder. “Honestly, I’m not even a big tech person. Can’t fix my own wi-fi if it’s out, past turning it off then back on again. I’m a manager.”

“Need an intern?”

“Dude, you have a job,” Mark interjected, elbowing his friend in the arm.

“I’m networking, dude,” Johnny replied pointedly, elbowing him back. “Not all of us can bank on being doctors in eight years, you know.”

You watched their bickering with amusement before answering the human’s question, “I can make an inquiry. The Advertising AD may or may not owe me a favor…”

“Thanks!” He beamed at you. “So, I’m sorry, if this rude or something, but sphinxes do those riddles, right?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Yes… Don’t tell me Mark has two magical adrenaline junkie friends? I’m not giving you a riddle either.”

Mark’s head shot up from where he had been sullenly eating his ravioli, his eyes going wide with mortification. “Renjun asked you for a riddle?!”

“I didn’t give him one,” you snorted. “I’m not going to be responsible for some kid going mad.”

“I’m going to kill him,” the basilisk groaned, covering his own face in embarrassment. “Why is he like this?”

“I’m not asking you for a riddle, don’t worry,” Johnny assured you. “I was just curious… Would that make sphinxes good poets or writers, then?”

“Sphinxes are good wordsmiths, yes,” you answered with a smile. “But we stick more to oral traditions. One of our favorite pastimes is riddle-weaving. Sphinxes will swap riddles back and forth, solving each other’s riddles to see who can come up with the best one. It’s a good way to pass the time on long car rides.”

“Renjun also said there’s a lot of sphinx lawyers?” Mark added.

“If you compare the percentage of the entire population that are sphinxes and the percentage of lawyers that are sphinxes, yes, sphinxes are overrepresented in that field,” you nodded. “Kind of like how there’s a lot of unicorns in healthcare and education.”

“And dryads in ecology,” Johnny followed your train of logic.

“Exactly.”

After dinner, the three of you moved into your living room. The sun was beginning to set outside, so you retrieved the glowing spheres that had been sitting in your lamps and sent them back outside to rejoin the rest of the rays. You preferred to light your apartment with sunlight when possible, as it was both more beautiful to you, and way more cost-effective than using electricity.

As you went to turn the ceiling light on with the lightswitch, you started explaining what you’d just done to your human guest, “That was sol-channeling. You might hear it be called heliokinesis as well. Sphinxes always call it sol-channeling.”

“Can you sol-channel moonlight? Since it’s technically just reflected sunlight?” Johnny questioned curiously.

“Nope. Magically different properties. Just like how werewolves are only affected by the full moon and moonstone, not by any sort of sunlight or sunstone.”

“…Right. Of course.”

“We can only manipulate existing sunlight, but we can’t make it, and we have to send it back before the Sun sets.”

“What happens if you don’t send it back before the Sun sets?”

“We’re only borrowing the sunlight from Sol. It has to be anchored to us while it’s here,” you said, guiding him by the arm to stand in one spot. “If we don’t end that connection ourselves willingly, it’ll still go back… and rip a piece of our soul out with it. The more sunlight that you’ve sol-channeled, and have anchored to you, the more of your soul that’s taken.”

You then positioned Mark across from Johnny, facing his friend from several steps away. The basilisk’s eyes were locked on your face in horror, but you just kept calmly readjusting him.

“Can you… regrow it? If that happens?” Johnny asked quietly.

“You can heal, physically,” you answered levelly, walking behind Mark. “Hurts like a bitch for a while… but healing a soul, that’s something that takes a lot of power. I can really only think of one thing that would do that…”

“What is it?” Mark blurted out.

“The Sun,” you replied bluntly. “Phoenixes, when they reincarnate. Everything is healed, soul included.” They were quiet for a moment, and you clapped your hands together, changing conversation topics, “Alright, time for some compelling! Ready, guys?”

“Totally!” Johnny gave you two thumbs-up.

“Mark?” You prompted the basilisk right in front of you.

“Shouldn’t you be by Johnny? In case you need to nix it?” He pointed to the human, looking down at his feet.

“I can nix from here,” you assured him. Reaching over his shoulder, you secured between two fingers the silver chain that you knew his lion pendant dangled from. You pulled it out from under his shirt, holding it in his eyeline. “Breathe, Mark. Let’s do a round of those grounding breaths, hm?”

You let his anchor go to rest on his chest again, and watched his eyes flutter shut as you started counting him through the breaths. Once he was done, he opened his eyes back up, the slit pupils slowly dragging up from his feet to your face first. You smiled reassuringly at him from your spot just beside him now. You squeezed his arm. “You’ve got this, Mark. Just like we’ve done before. I’ll be right back here, okay?”

As you went to step back, you saw Mark gulp, and his gaze fell down again. He wouldn’t be able to compel Johnny if he didn’t look him in the eye. While you had read through Renjun’s notes pretty thoroughly early in working with Mark, you were using them as a guide of what not to do. You didn’t want him to constantly be in a state of being stressed, tired, and stuck at home in order to be in tune with his powers. But right now, you could tell that you were hitting at least two out of three of those. Dinner had already taken up a considerable portion of your evening, and Mark was still not as relaxed as you needed him to be.

“Hey, Mark, I finally figured out why Yuta’s barely passing all his classes,” Johnny suddenly interjected.

That caught the basilisk’s attention, his voice confused as he went to respond, “I thought he was on the Dean’s List—”

“Because sirens only know what’s under C-level,” the human finished with a wide grin.

“Dude—” Mark was cut off by his own laughs. “That was bad. Like, barely made sense bad.”

“Well, did I tell you about this fairy philosophy major I met the other day?”

“What? Were they cute or something?”

“Yeah, a real Thinker-bell…”

That one even made you snort as Mark devolved into giggles. Johnny caught your eye as he continued, “You know how Taeil and Doyoung are witches that live together?”

“I mean, Jungwoo’s there—”

“And they were broom-mates…”

“Stop, dude,” Mark’s protests were dampened by his non-stop giggles as he clutched his sides. “We’re trying to— We’re trying—”

“What’s a vampire’s favorite fruit?” You cut in, making both of them turn to you. “A neck-tarine…”

Johnny actually burst out laughing at that, probably more than the awful pun warranted, as he quickly doubled over and had to hold himself up with his hands on his knees. Mark stumbled just the slightest towards you as he was still giggling, finally moving from the place that you had set him up in. “Y/N, not you too!” He complained through laughter. “God, you two are awful. Not funny at all.”

“Then why are you laughing so hard, Markie?” You pointed out with a chuckle, letting him lean his weight on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“Because I can’t believe you would make terrible dad jokes like that.” He took deep breaths, still holding his side. “Looped back around to being funny.”

“Then why’d you laugh at mine?” Johnny was upright again.

“Pity.”

And as you caught Johnny’s twinkling eyes again from across the room, you figured that you were thinking the same thing. Success. One much more relaxed Mark Lee.

Mark found his footing again, and with one more deep breath, looked up at Johnny. You watched him carefully, feeling the exact moment he made contact with his powers, extending them out towards Johnny. They weren’t overwhelming, out-of-control, hasty, or at risk of boiling over. Johnny stood still, pupils dilating as he looked to Mark for his cue.

“Touch your right index finger to your nose gently,” Mark instructed calmly. That was something you had worked on, specificity without complexity.

Johnny lifted his right hand, tapping his nose with his pointer finger.

“Put your right hand down.” After he had done so, Mark then requested, “Lift your left hand above your head, slowly.”

Johnny raised his hand like he was in a classroom, holding it there.

“Put your left hand down please.”

The human lowered his hand again.

“Thanks, Johnny, you’re done,” Mark released him, and you felt the energy draw back into the basilisk as steadily as it had extended out. He let out a breath as Johnny blinked and came back into himself. “You alright, man?”

“Great!” Johnny beamed and gave him a thumbs up. “Thanks for not making me do anything weird.”

“I told you I wouldn’t, man.” The basilisk rolled his eyes.

“Mark!” You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, practically vibrating with excitement. “You did it! On purpose!”

“I’m going to pee, before the petrification,” Johnny whispered loudly, excusing himself down the hall.

“I-I mean, I had a good teacher...” Mark muttered, tentatively hugging you back.

“I won’t argue with you there,” you snickered, squeezing him even tighter. “I’m proud of you, Markie.”

Two days later, and it was Friday night. After a long week of work, you finally could relax, order some food, make yourself a drink, kick your feet up, and just have a nice quiet night to yourself. Well, sort of. You had actually ordered food for two, prepared an extra glass of ice water, and were awaiting a familiar knock on your door before you could kick up your feet and start your show.

Mark knocked at 7:50 p.m., just 10 minutes before the newest episode of Our Love from the Ashes would be premiering, and you ushered him in quickly. Squished into the middle two couch cushions next to each other so you could both have access to your coffee table to eat from, you were pleasantly surprised to find that he wasn’t incredibly tense or actively running away. He was doing exactly what you’d asked him to do—getting invested. Reacting to the episode with you, quiet at the tense parts, laughing at the funny parts, pretty much the perfect drama watching partner. You were done with your food halfway into the episode, and dragged over a blanket to cover your lap now that you weren’t at risk of any spillage. It was large enough to cover both you and Mark, so you put it over his lap too, and that was when he suddenly choked on a noodle.

“You alright?” You snorted, giving him a couple solid smacks on the back. “Food go down the wrong pipe?”

He wiped his mouth with a napkin to catch a dribble of sauce. “Yeah, sorry. Don’t—Don’t mind me.”

Right as you focused back on the show, however, loud shooting and explosion sounds started up from the other side of your living room wall, and you sighed. You reached forward to grab the remote, pausing the show before scooting out from under the blanket and walking over to your shared wall with Chenle and Jisung. Banging your fist against the wall a couple times, you then waited. The video game sounds decreased significantly, then you heard a dampened, “Sorry, Ms. Y/N!” from Chenle this time.

“That’s how loud it is?” Mark asked, now looking incredibly guilty.

“Yep,” you replied, plopping back down on the couch next to him and pulling the blanket over you again. With the show still paused, you looked over at him curiously. “Are you missing a video game night right now?”

“It’s not like everyone or anything,” he shrugged, casting his eyes down to his dish as he pushed food around with his utensil. “I mean, I think it’s just Jaemin, Hyuck, Chenle, and Renjun. Jeno and his girlfriend are celebrating their anniversary, and Jisung’s not even there at the game night in his own apartment because he’s out with his girlfriend. It was going to be a single losers night.”

“So what does it mean that you’re here with me instead then?” You mused humorously, hitting play.

Mark apparently wasn’t hungry anymore, as he set his food down and leaned back against the couch cushions. But he didn’t relax very much. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of his legs bouncing up and down. With the warm summer air outside, he had worn a t-shirt with some comic book character on it. As his fingers started messing with the texture of the blanket, your eyes followed the movement, up to his hands, then further up to his forearms, where you could see his muscles twitch and flex in the slightest under his skin. You were suddenly more aware of the lounge clothes you were wearing. They were nothing special, a comfortable t-shirt of your own and pair of shorts, but as you became conscious of exactly how much the shorts had ridden up with the way you were sitting under the blanket, your focus was still locked on Mark’s hands, not the show that you had unwittingly tuned out.

“Sorry,” Mark’s voice was sheepish, and you blinked, looking up from his hands to his face. “Didn’t mean to pull at a thread. I just fidget, you know…”

His fingers had stopped messing with the blanket, and you gave him a half-hearted smile and shake of your head. “It’s fine, Mark. Didn’t mean to stare like that, sorry.”

When you turned back to the screen, you were able to focus on the show for a whole two minutes. And then the main couple’s romantic kiss turned into a prolonged make-out session. Mark’s hands pulled at the thread again. You smacked a hand down over his, harder than you intended to. He jumped under your touch, but stopped his accidental unwinding of your textile. You kept your hand there to prevent him from unraveling the thread again, skin buzzing with a new kind of energy where it touched his. You didn’t look at him. Then the kissing turned into a bit more, with some conveniently placed objects in frame, and a tasteful fade-to-black. Mark shifted a bit higher in his seat. You slowly took your hand back. That wasn’t the end of the episode, as there was a very cute morning-after scene as well, but you could barely celebrate the fact that the characters were back together. Finally looking at the basilisk beside you out of the corner of your eye, he was staring straight ahead at the TV, his leg back to bouncing. He ran a hand through his hair, and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

As soon as the credits started rolling, Mark was on his feet. “Uhm, thank you for having me.”

“Right… thanks for coming over.” You walked him to the door like usual, which he seemed to be racing you to. Holding your hand on the door handle without actually opening it, you watched him shift uncomfortably in place. “Are you okay, Mark?”

“Hm? Fine, fine!” His voice cracked. “It was a-a good episode.”

“Yeah, they finally got back together and—”

“Sorry, I just remembered I actually have an assignment due at 11:59 tonight,” he blurted out, scratching the back of his neck. You peered over his shoulder at your stove clock visible from your kitchen. 8:58 p.m.

“Oh. Well, I’ll let you go then.” You went to give him a one-armed hug goodbye without a second thought, feeling him stiffen in your loose hold. Stepping back, you opened the door for him. “See you Wednesday, Mark.”

His face was bright red as he stammered out, “See-See you. Goodnight, Y/N.”

His sneakers squeaked as he took off down the hall. You closed the door behind him and looked back into your apartment, which felt oddly empty now.

Pushing open the door to Half Moon Bakery some days later, you were immediately enveloped by the cozy and sweet smells of the various breads, sweets, and pastries inside. Two employees were behind the counter, one attending to the register while the other restocked their shelves with loaves of bread from a tray, his back to you.

“Hi! Welcome to Half Moon! How can I help you?” The friendly-looking worker at the register greeted you brightly. As you got closer, you could very clearly smell that he was a werewolf, musky and warm.

You offered the young man a smile back. “Hi, I’m actually—”

“Y/N?” The other employee, who had also been wearing a backwards baseball cap, turned around then, surprise on his features.

It took you a second to place the face so out-of-context, immediately offering a kind greeting as soon as you recognized him. “Oh, Johnny, hey. It’s good to see you. Almost didn’t recognize you in the apron, sorry.”

The human gestured down to the navy-blue apron he had donned as part of the bakery’s uniform. “Yeah, it’s me.”

The first boy’s eyes widened as he turned to Johnny. “Wait, Y/N, as in…?”

“Yes, Jeno, this is Chenle and Jisung’s neighbor,” Johnny confirmed pointedly through gritted teeth. You knew very well what was also implicitly being confirmed, because if he knew Johnny, knew your name, and knew Chenle and Jisung, then Jeno presumably also knew Mark and your apparent reputation among their friend group.

“I-It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Y/N. Uhm, sorry about all the noise all the time,” Jeno stammered out an apology.

The way he addressed you made you chuckle lightly. There were only two people who called you that, and with whom he would’ve had to be apologizing for noise if he’d been with. “Oh, you must be one of Mark’s other friends that’s always playing video games so loudly in the boys’ apartment next door.”

“R-Right. Again, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m teasing, Jeno,” you reassured the poor boy, who looked like a kicked puppy at this point. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“So what can we get you?” Johnny asked, motioning to all of the various baked goods in the shop.

“As delicious as everything looks, I’m actually not here to eat, unfortunately. Another time,” you promised. Refocusing on the real reason you came into the bakery today, you looked around. “Minseok in?”

“Oh, yeah, Mr. Minseok’s in the back. I can go grab him for you,” Jeno offered.

“Would you please, Jeno?”

“So, how do you know Minseok?” Johnny asked as you waited, genuine curiosity in his tone.

“Oh, we’ve known each other for years,” you started. “We’re—”

“Y/N, hey!” Minseok calling your name out snapped your attention to your friend making his way out of the back of the bakery.

“Minseok— ah!” You got cut off by a sputtering laugh as he came around the counter to hug you, patting his back in the embrace. When you pulled back, you didn’t let your friend get very far, brushing at a white smudge on his cheek. “You’ve got flour on your face, you know? I swear you’d have lost your canines a decade ago if it weren’t for me, Kim Minseok.”

“I work in a bakery,” he reminded you with a huff, disentangling from you to cross his arms stubbornly. “Call it an occupational hazard. And you’ve got some on you, too.”

“Oh, and whose fault is that?” You scoffed, wiping at your own face where it had brushed against his in the hug.

“Yours. You’ve got to play better defense, Y/N.” He pretended to punch your upper arm a couple times as if in a boxing match.

“Defense against flour-covered hugs? My bad, I’ll train up on that this weekend.”

Your friend dropped his mock boxer’s stance. “Anyway, you ready to go?”

“Yep, I am if you are.”

“Absolutely.” He nodded, then turned to his employees, who suddenly seemed extremely invested in wiping down the countertop by the register. “I’m about to take my lunch. You two need anything from me?”

Johnny shook his head, giving his boss a reassuring grin. “Nope, nope, all good.”

“Jeno, you think she needs anything back there?” Minseok asked the werewolf.

“Nah, you saw her, she’s totally in the zone,” Jeno replied, a soft smile overtaking his features. “We’re actually taking our lunch break soon, too.”

“Cool. Be back in an hour, hour and a half.”

You lifted a hand to give them your own farewell, “It was good seeing you guys, bye!”

“Since when do you know my employees so well?” Minseok squinted at you as the two of you walked down the sidewalks together.

“They’re both Mark’s friends,” you explained.

The sphinx made an extended ‘ohhh’ sound as you rounded the corner to your destination, a quick, casual café. While you didn’t technically have a timed lunch break since you were in a salary position, your schedule was full up with meetings for the afternoon that you couldn’t be late for. Minseok held the door open for you. “So I guess I have you to thank for Johnny no longer missing shifts because he got petrified, then.”

You covered your mouth with your hand to cover your laugh. “I guess so.”

Saturday night found you hosting all your friends at your place—a rare occurrence. It wasn’t that you didn’t like hanging out with all your friends, it was that you four usually went out somewhere, or to someone else’s place. You weren’t a big hostess in general, and typically Jongin or Baekhyun preferred to do the hosting of the four of you, but somehow, this time, everyone ended up at your place for board game night.

“Something you’d like to tell us, Y/N?” Baekhyun raised his eyebrows as he dug a forest green garment out from between two of your throw pillows on your couch. He set his wine glass down on the coffee table to spread the hoodie wide, allowing you to see the logo on the front, the name of the college that Mark and your neighbors attended.

“Mark left a hoodie here?” You questioned. “The horror…? It’s a hoodie, not a condom. Calm down, Baek.”

“I just don’t get what you’re waiting for.”

“What are you talking about?” You walked over to take the hoodie from him, folding it up and setting it aside on your dining table so you wouldn’t forget to give it back to Mark on Wednesday.

“You haven’t talked about any other man since you started ‘mentoring’ this kid,” the siren said frankly, putting his hands on his hips. “Every time we see you, it’s ‘Mark did this’ and ‘Mark said that’ and ‘Mark’s doing so good’ and—”

“I don’t sound like that,” you scowled.

“You kind of do,” Minseok agreed, reclined on your couch.

You looked to Jongin, hoping that he’d at least back you up. He shrugged.

“I’m just saying, from what you’ve been saying, he’s been wrapped around your finger since he laid eyes on you,” Baekhyun continued. “So, what are you waiting for? He’s got his powers under control; he’s obsessed with you—have some fun. I think you’ve earned it. Go be the MILF you want to see in the world.”

“You mean the MILF that you want to see in the world. Pass.”

“What? Is he not cute or—”

“I said pass, Baek. Leave it.”

“Does he have a partner or something?”

“No, I don’t think so. Can we just play—”

“What is your—”

“Baekhyun.” Jongin cut him off coolly. “Stop.”

The siren held up his hands. “Fine. Sorry.”

As everyone sat around your coffee table to start setting up the board game, you could feel Minseok’s contemplative gaze on you. “You really like him, don’t you?” The other sphinx asked quietly, into the dead silence. “Your basilisk.”

Never had you ever been more relieved to hear loud, raucous video game explosions from the apartment next door. You scrambled to your feet, happy to be out of that conversation. “Oh, that’s the boys. Sorry, hold on.” You walked over to your shared wall, and banged your fist on it a couple times.

The volume was quickly cranked down, then Jisung called out, “Sorry!”

You turned back to your own friends with a pleased smile. “There we go.”

A moment later, your phone buzzed in your hand.

[markie: sorry, i tried to tell them it wasn’t quiet enough]

[you: that’s alright. thanks, markie]

[you: also, you left a hoodie here. you can grab it wednesday]

When you sat back down to set up the boardgame, your friends apparently decided to leave the topic well enough alone, letting you start reading off the direction with no further poking or prodding.

A few hours later, after the games had been abandoned but before your friends were ready to leave, you were washing up a few glasses at your kitchen sink as the others debated some movie options to round out the night. There was a faint knock on your front door, and you looked at the time on the stove clock curiously.

“Oh, can someone get that?” You called out to the living room, hands still wet, soapy, and holding an equally wet and soapy glass. “I’m expecting a package, needs to be signed for.”

“I’ve got it!” Minseok shouted back, the sound of the front door opening following just a moment later.

“W-What?” A familiar stutter reached your ears, and you grabbed a dish towel to start drying your hands off, listening carefully to make sure you’d heard correctly. There was no reason Mark should be at your door right now.

“Oh, Mark, right? Johnny’s roommate.” Nope, apparently he was, according to Minseok’s memory.

“Mark?” You poked your head out of the kitchen, the rest of your body following when you did in fact see the basilisk at your front door. “What are you doing here?”

“What is he doing here?” Mark pointed at the other sphinx accusatorily.

“So this is Mark?!” Baekhyun had joined you three at the door, delight on his features. “Minseok, don’t be rude, let the boy in.”

“What’s uh, what’s going on?” Jongin called from the living room as he, too, stood up to start walking over to the front door.

You shook your head at your friends, turning to chastise them, “Oh my God, all of you, stop it.” Clearly, the younger basilisk was in some kind of panic, and you had no clue why he was even at your door when as far you knew, he and his friends were playing video games thirty seconds ago.  Putting your focus back on Mark, you softened your tone, “Mark, why are you—”

But the college student turned on his heel and took off down the hallway at a sprint.

“Mark! Hey!” You called after him, stepping out of your doorway, but it was useless, as he was already long gone down the stairwell. With a sigh, you dropped your hands to your sides in defeat and moved back into your apartment. Leaning against the inside of your closed door, you looked around at your friends, at a loss for words.

“Do you think we scared him?” Baekhyun asked, his head tilted.

Jongin’s forked tongue flicked out, his eyebrows shooting up before his features relaxed again. “You think?”

The next Wednesday, as the time neared 6:00 p.m., you paced your living room anxiously, eyes on the microwave clock as you strained your ears to listen to every minute sound in the hallway. Listening for footfalls, or maybe even the door of the stairwell opening if it were quiet enough. 6:00 passed, then 6:01, 6:02, 6:03, 6:04, and at 6:05 you checked your phone for any indication from Mark that he was still planning on coming over, maybe just running late. You hadn’t heard a peep from him since Saturday, which included leaving you on read this afternoon when you asked him if he wanted pizza or dumpling soup for dinner. You made pizza, too distracted to trust yourself to do more cooking than putting a frozen pizza in the oven. 6:08 p.m., and you heard someone walking down the hallway, past the boys’ apartment, and finally stopped on your doormat. They knocked, and you let out a sigh of relief, rushing to answer the door before he could have the opportunity to run away again.

You unlocked your locks in record time, a breathless smile coming to your face at the familiar figure of Mark standing there. His hands were stuffed into his hoodie pocket as the side of his mouth pulled up into a sheepish half-smile. “Hey, Y/N. Sorry I’m late.”

“Mark,” you breathed out his name in relief. “Just get in here, would you?”

“I’m really sorry about Saturday,” he apologized immediately as soon as you had locked up, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, what even was that?” You asked, a concerned frown on your face as you stepped closer to him. “I mean, why did you come over? And then why did you run away as soon you showed up?”

“It’s… not a good reason. And again, I’m so sorry.” He ran two hands through his hair this time, thoroughly mussing it up.

“Uh, do you want to sit down, Mark?” You offered your couch up.

“Sure, sure, yeah.” He obliged, but was on the edge of his seat, leaning his weight forward on his arms and bouncing a knee. You were getting more nervous just looking at him. “Uhm, so, Jeno had told me about when you came into the café last week, when you got lunch with his boss. And I sort of got freaked. And then I came over here and he was here, I got even more freaked. And then all those other guys were here and I got super freaked and bolted. Like I said, I’m really sorry.”

You opened and closed your mouth a couple times as you tried to figure out what you wanted to address first. Finally, you landed on: “Jeno told you? Not Johnny?”

“Johnny helped me get un-freaked enough to come over tonight.”

“Well, big thanks to Johnny, then. Though I will admit that I’m not sure what to do with the fact that me having friends freaked you out so bad in the first place.”

“I-I know, it was really immature of me, I just…” He sighed, wringing his hands together.

You felt bad, he was clearly at a loss for what to do next. He knew he’d messed up and how, and had apologized multiple times. You figured he’d only gotten so “freaked” because he’d known so little about the situation, so you decided that offering some more information would help put him at ease.

“Baekhyun, Minseok, and Jongin. Those are their names,” you said. “They’re my closest friends. Baekhyun’s a siren, Minseok’s a sphinx like me, and Jongin’s a basilisk like you. You can ask me questions about them, if you want.”

“How did you guys meet?”

“We were all in the same class together in primary school.”

“Oh that’s cool!” He replied brightly.

“What?” You blinked at him, caught off-guard. That usually wasn’t the reaction that piece of information garnered from other magical creatures that were from here.

“That you guys went to school together and you’re all still friends. I don’t know how many people I went to primary school with that I could even still name off the top of my head. Did you guys have like a Cool Magic Kids Only Club type thing or something?”

You looked down at your lap. “Not exactly…”

Mark had picked up on the unease in your tone, all perk falling from his features. “What? Is something wrong, Y/N?”

It took you a moment to figure out how to phrase this for him, pressing your lips together in a line as you thought. When you settled on the words, you told him gently, “We were all in the same class because we were the only kids in our class. It was for magical creatures only.”

“Wait, what?”

“I mean, not just the four of us, there were ten students total. But, yeah, we were kept separate from the human kids in school. For their safety.”

“I’ve heard about that kind of stuff, like, when integration was first happening, but you’re not that much older than me!” He pointed out, his jaw dropped in disbelief.

You decided to do a little test. “Mark, did you go to speech therapy? When you were in school?”

“What? No.”

“Jongin, the basilisk, he used to get pulled from class three times a week to go to speech therapy to ‘fix’ how he spoke.” You made sure to throw sarcastic air quotes around the word fix.

“What the fuck?”

“I mean, I didn’t have any powers, so I just had to keep my first set of teeth in check, you know. But they didn’t believe me when I told them I couldn’t possibly be a danger yet because sphinxes didn’t get their powers until they were adults. After all, sphinxes were riddle-makers, tricksy, and couldn’t be trusted.”

“Oh, oh my god, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

“So, anyway, that’s how we all know each other. Thirteen years of educational trauma does a lot to make some pretty unbreakable bonds.”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry, I was a dick.”

“Thanks, Mark. But to be fair, you don’t know any of my friends, do you?”

“I’ve met Minseok before.” He tried to reassure you. “And Jongdae!”

“You mean you’ve said hi to Jongdae once, and met Minseok as Johnny and Jeno’s boss.” You shook your head with a small smile. “But I mean, I’ve met a bunch of your friends. Chenle and Jisung, obviously, and I’ve met Renjun, Johnny, and now Jeno. You talk about all of them all the time. It’s not entirely unreasonable that you could’ve… jumped to conclusions.”

“But it wasn’t fair of me to do that.”

“Well, can’t argue with you there.” You agreed. After a pause of the two of you just sort of looking at each other, you offered, “Do you want to hear more about them?”

“You don’t have to… tell me anything you don’t want to, Y/N.”

“Minseok and I weren’t always the closest on the surface, you know. Baekhyun and I liked more of the same stuff, Jongin didn’t really to talk to anybody except me for our first few years of primary school, and Baekhyun and Minseok would team up to pick on me sometimes, but there was always an unspoken bond between us, since we were both sphinxes.” You decided to start with Minseok, since that’s who started this whole freak-out in the first place. “You know, we’re so rare, it was comforting to have another one of us around during all of this. We weren’t allowed to riddle-weave at school, obviously, but whenever we could find the rare opportunity at our magic-only recess, or in a corner of the library, or walking home from school when we were a little older, we’d swap riddles back and forth with each other. One of us would give a riddle, the other would solve it, then give a riddle back. And don’t get me wrong, our whole class was really close. There were only ten of us, and we had pretty much no contact with the rest of the students at our school until high school. But the four of us, Minseok, Baekhyun, Jongin, and I, were truly the best of friends. Still are.”

“What about the rest of you? The other kids from your class?” He asked.

“We keep in touch with all of them. Sort of parted ways in college and as we got older, you know. I actually work with one of them. Remember that phone call I got from my employee, Sehun?”

“Kind of?”

“He’s one of my former classmates, a witch.”

“Oh. Huh.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw him walk in on his first day. Let me think… Jongdae, witch, he’s the only one of us to have a kid so far, MinMin; Chanyeol, werewolf, just got a promotion… then of course Minseok owns the bakery, Baekhyun has his boba shop, Jongin has a whole designer brand... Yeah, we’re all doing just… great. Really makes my heart happy.”

“Ah, Y/N…” Mark got to his feet, throwing his hands down by his sides in fists as he paced.

“Woah, Markie, are you okay?”

“No, just— Doesn’t it make you mad? That they did this to you guys?”

“It used to, yeah, absolutely. We used to be the angriest, angstiest, most vitriolic people you could ever meet. We hated that school, and society, and the world for letting them treat us like that. Hell, Jongin still hates his speech therapist, and I’ll let him die with that grudge.” You shook your head, the momentary bitterness dissolving from your tongue and a melancholy replacing it instead. “But it ate at us. And not only that, but society kept changing. And we were all stuck in that time, in those memories, stuck with that anger. It was killing us from the inside. I am so glad you didn’t meet me in college, Mark, because it was not pretty. The number of nights that none of us can remember—and not for any fun reason—is far too many.”

He still didn’t seem convinced, but had stopped his angry pacing, standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I mean, just look at you. You went through the same schools that I did practically right after us and had a completely different experience. A better one. And that makes me so relieved.” You beamed up at him, and saw a mixture of guilt and bashfulness flicker across his face. “It doesn’t take away what happened to me at all. But anger with no direction is useless. It all really hit us when Jongin, Minseok, and I all developed our powers the same semester of undergrad. And we were all messes. We couldn’t get them under control because we were just so angry. We felt like we were being forgotten, that our suffering was being forgotten. Everybody else was moving on and pretending like it never happened. When I uh, mostly unintentionally melted a portion of a professor’s car, my grandmother pulled me away for spring break—absolutely ruined my plans—and made me spend the entire week learning to control it all.”

“You melted—”

“Thankfully, Dr. Kwon was very understanding, and I wasn’t kicked out or anything.”

“How did Minseok and Jongin…?”

“Those aren’t really my stories to tell. But ultimately, we couldn’t hold onto that anger anymore. So instead, I try to focus on all the good that we have in our lives, and all the things we’ve been able to accomplish despite what was done to us.” You then gestured to him, “And I look at the magical creatures who came after us, how much better things were for them, and are continuing to get, and all I can feel is happiness now.”

Mark sighed and sat down on the cushion next to yours, and you found yourself relieved to see the anger drain from his face. “I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s not my… thing to get angry over.”

“No, Mark, it’s okay.” You reached out to grab his hand, pulling both of them over to rest in your lap. Your other hand was up by your mouth, where you were chewing on a nail in between your thoughts— an anxious habit your grandmother thought she had broken you of in high school. “It tells me you care, and it means a lot, that you do. Makes it still feel real. And it is your thing to get mad about, as far as I’m concerned. What happened to us—and to Jongin—could’ve easily been you and your friends too. I’m just really glad it wasn’t.”

The basilisk squeezed your hand, then scooted closer until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee. But it wasn’t electricity that jumped between you two this time, or strange butterflies in your stomach. It was an unspoken, understanding kindness that connected you and Mark, and a quiet sense of security that had settled deep in your chest. You shifted to rest your head on his shoulder, letting go of his hand only to wind your arm under his and lace your fingers together.

“Mark?” You said quietly, gaze locked on your intertwined fingers.

“Yeah?” He murmured, and you could feel him turn his head to look down at you.

“When you asked me if you’re my friend… one of the first times you were over. You remember that?”

“Ah, god, Y/N.” He shook his head, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have asked you. I was insecure and fishing for—”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t answer you honestly,” you insisted. You held Mark’s hand even tighter. “You’re not my friend, and… I don’t know when it happened. Honestly, I don’t think you ever were.”

He was quiet for a moment, letting your confession settle over the two of you like a blanket. But you didn’t feel suffocated by it, or scared. It sort of felt like something that was always in the room with you and Mark, but now you two were just finally talking about it. And after Mark’s history of impulsive decisions, and talking without thinking, and getting freaked, you were more than happy to give him whatever time he needed to get his thoughts together before responding to you.

“Can I ask you for that secret now?” He asked into the empty air of your living room, his voice wavering.

“Of course. Anything.”

“How... Can you tell me a secret you have about me? About how you feel about me?”

You lifted your head off his shoulder to turn in your seat and face him. His big, brown eyes were looking at you like you were everything, and you just took a second to admire him as you pulled together your own thoughts. Here everyone was worried (to varying degrees of seriousness) that you were luring poor, innocent little Markie into your lair every week and corrupting him. But really, you’d been unknowingly leaving the doors to your heart wide open for this little basilisk to slither right in and make himself at home. And now that he was here, you had no intention of ever asking him to leave.

“I like you, Mark. Something other than friendship. Romantically,” you clarified. “I have feelings for you.”

His grip tightened on your hand as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Mark? You okay?” You asked softly.

“Great, yep, awesome,” he promised. “Just uh, just losing my mind a little.”

You laughed, stroking your thumb over his comfortingly. “Take all the time you need. Don’t want any more freakouts if we can avoid them.”

“Y/N?” He looked up at you again.

“Yeah, Mark?”

His eyes flicked between yours and your mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You agreed enthusiastically, but didn’t make another move for fear of scaring off the skittery basilisk.

He still hesitated, though. “D-Do you want me to?”

So polite. It was taking everything in you not to pounce on him.

“Yes.” You said again, a bit firmer. For encouragement, you took his hand that you were holding and moved it up to your face.

Mark took the cue and gently cupped your cheek, leaning in towards you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let him guide your mouths together. The first touch of his lips to yours was feather-light, barely there.

“I…” He drew back, dropping his hand to hold yours again. “Like… You want to date me?”

“Yes,” you confirmed with another light chuckle.

“You’re laughing at me again.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You tried to compose yourself, but you knew that you still had the same smitten smile on your face. “You’re just… too cute.”

“Do you remember when I came here to ask you for help with my powers in the first place?” Mark asked, poking a couch cushion. “What you said about your couch?”

“My couch…?” You echoed, trying to think that far back. It felt like a lifetime ago at this point that you had first welcomed the incredibly timid basilisk into your home. Then it hit you. “I said neither my couch nor I would eat you whole.”

“Unless I asked nicely,” he added, swallowing thickly. “I’m-I’m asking nicely now, Y/N. Please, if you want—”

“Oh, Markie,” you sighed, standing up and pulling him up with you. You grabbed his jaw between two fingers, looking into his slit pupils as you pulled him closer. “You’re so adorable.”

Before he could say anything else, you crashed your mouths together. His hands immediately flew to your hips to ground himself, as you kept one hand on his jaw and the other rested on his shoulder. You had a reason for standing up, however, beginning to push him back in the direction of your bedroom.

He asked to be eaten whole, after all.

When your work alarm came the next morning, you snoozed it and buried your face back into your pillow. There was a groan from beside you, and you could hear Mark shifting as well.

“Don’t tell me that’s actually how early you get up for work?” He asked incredulously.

“I have to shower, and make breakfast, and brush my teeth, and get dressed in clean clothes, and commute,” you mused. “Can’t just roll out of bed five minutes before I need to leave and show up in the same pajamas I slept in anymore.”

“Ugh.”

You chuckled, rolling over to snuggle up to his side, throwing an arm over his waist. “Do you have class today?”

“Summer break.” His arms hesitantly wrapped around you.

“Right, right. Well, I guess you can snooze until I’ve got breakfast ready, then.”

“Mm, pretty sure I heard something about a shower?”

“You might have,” you replied coyly. “Why?”

“You know, Renjun was telling me about how climate change is shrinking the natural habitats of glacial sirens at the poles, and—”

Your laughter cut him off, and he started giggling at himself as well. When you’d finally caught your breath, you said, “I’ve heard the ‘saving water’ line before, never heard it taken to that extreme. Come on, if we waste any more time, we’ll be having untoasted bread for breakfast.”

“Ooh, my favorite,” Mark grinned, following after you.

⤷ anthology masterlist | blog masterlist

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview on Today (2024)

Jonathan Bailey and Matt Bomer tell a decades-spanning love story, set against a dark time in American history, in the miniseries "Fellow Travelers."

"It's a once or twice in a career experience to get to tell characters' stories for three plus decades," Bomer tells TODAY.com.

It also seems to be a "once or twice in a career" friendship between the two stars.

As we sit down to chat after their appearance on TODAY, I tell Bailey this interview will be audio-only, not on camera.

"So you'll get to hear Matt's Elphaba riff," Bailey jokes, before Bomer belts out a near-perfect tenor rendition of the closing notes of "Defying Gravity."

In addition to "Fellow Travelers," which premiered on Showtime in October 2023 and led to both stars receiving Emmy nominations, Bailey is also gearing up for the release of the film adaptation of "Wicked."

"I wore my emerald shirt to support," Bomer says later.

Throughout the interview, they share effusive praise for each other. Bomer was a "huge fan" of Bailey's work before they met, he says, and the "Bridgerton" actor then "exceeded all expectations." Bailey credits Bomer, who served as an executive producer on the show, with making "the whole thing happen."

"He's been a hero for a long time," Bailey says of his co-star.

Their friendship may be the happily ever after that, on its surface, is absent from their show.

"Fellow Travelers" chronicles the love story between political consultants Hawkins "Hawk" Fuller (Bomer) and Tim Laughlin (Bailey) over the course of four decades. Their relationship starts against the backdrop of the Lavender Scare in 1950s Washington D.C. and runs all the way up to San Francisco in the '80s, at the start of the AIDS epidemic.

The show is romantic, sexy, moving and devastating, right up until the last line.

An 'instantaneous' friendship

Bomer says their friendship was "instantaneous."

"I feel like we went from coworkers to friends the first time we read together," he says. "It was so great to have someone I could completely trust as my scene partner and lean on and who made me better every day as an actor an a person at times."

He adds, "It was never really an effort."

Because their characters maintain an off-and-on again relationship over the years, Bailey and Bomer saw their characters through different ages and life phases.

That “nature of the love story” means they “grew with every scene," Bailey says.

"One of the most bonding experiences was seeing each other turning up through the different decades — see how we were aging, sometimes gracefully, sometimes not, and then sometimes gracefully again,” he says. "We're bonded, I'd say, for life."

‘Fellow Travelers,’ ‘Bridgerton’ and ‘Wicked’ — oh my!

The intensity of the show's emotions was matched by the intensity of filming.

Bailey, known for his breakout role as romantic hero Anthony in "Bridgerton" Season 2, filmed Season 3 of "Bridgerton" and his upcoming film "Wicked" at the same time as the Showtime drama.

When asked on TODAY Aug. 16 how he kept all the roles in his head, he simply answered, "I don't know."

But he did recall a time when his roles as Tim in "Fellow Travelers" and Fiyero in "Wicked" overlapped.

"There was one afternoon where we had a two-way trailer," Bailey said. "And the trailer was sort of rocking."

"I was like, 'What's going on in Johnny's trailer?'" Bomer recalled.

"I came out really sweaty," Bailey continued. "My Tim glasses were on, and I had on Adidas from the waist down, and I had been practicing my 'Wicked' choreography."

At its busiest, "Fellow Travelers" filmed for entire days — literally.

"Some of the days were like 20 hours," Bailey recalls to TODAY.com.

They filmed Episode 6, "Beyond Measure," largely set in the ‘60s —years since Tim and Hawk last spoke — in about three days, Bailey says.

"We had to wrap the show. You had places you had to be, and the schedule was so tight, we were just doing 18-hour days, 20-hour days," Bomer adds.

This happened after theactors had filmed the final scenes of the show.

"So we'd done the real heavy moment —," Bailey says, as Bomer adds, "We had this great release for the whole experience. But then we had to go back."

And about that ending...

"Fellow Travelers" turns out to be a frame narrative. The show both opens and ends in the '80s during Tim and Hawk's last reunion, before Tim dies of complications from AIDS.

Tim's death is not shown on screen. Instead, it's revealed through the final scene, which sees Hawk and his daughter looking at Tim's name on the AIDS Memorial Quilt in 1987. For the first time, Hawk tells her about his relationship with Tim.

The last lines of the show are Bomer's.

"He wasn't my friend. He was the man I loved," Hawk says.

Both actors confirm that the last time Tim and Hawk saw each other was in 1986 at the political gala shown in Episode 8. After Tim tries and fails to get an audience with the California governor to advocate for a crucial AIDS bill, he interrupts the event with a protest. But before taking the stage, Hawk kisses Tim, who then tells his longtime love to go home.

"I have to fight this fight. That means letting go of everything else. And if you're around, I will not be able to let go," Tim says.

Bomer calls their ending "brilliant."

"To see Tim in this moment of absolute triumph, where he is his most authentic self, pumping his fist in the air with a passion and a cause — everything that he had tried to hard to be in the '50s, he is celebrating out loud in the '80s," Bomer says. "I just thought it was such a beautiful, heartbreaking way to go out."

Tim’s arc “ends with his strongest moment, even though his body is dying," Bailey adds.

Hawk meanwhile, "hits the 'f-it' button," Bomer says.

"To kiss Tim openly is such a huge, revolutionary act (for Hawk)," he adds. "So he's definitely made the choice that he's going to take a complete new path for his life."

Bailey says the gala was the last time Tim and Hawk saw each other “in this world.”

"From the last scene, you can tell that he will live on as Hawk's great love of his life," Bomer adds. "Forever."

Source

[melonteee]

I've seen many people complain that Oda in Post Time skip One Piece spends a lot of time worldbuilding and making up side characters on every island that distract from the main ones and the plot. While I can see where some people are coming from, as someone who reads comics from Marvel, I WISH the wordbuilding and side characters were that developed because most of the time, unless it's about space or magic or directly related to the plot, the world feels genuinely dead. Even the main setting of a story sometimes feels so dead, like for comparison

Around 2 years ago, they had an event where, at some point, an inhabited island got pretty much nuked. We spent 3 real life years on that island and the writers really couldn't make any readers care less about all the civilians (men, women, children and babies) dying as they wrote them as a single minded entity who didn't mind that fate if their government told them to do it so they used two of the "main characters" (the most selfish pricks imaginable who never even cared about the island and the people there as they are long-established villains + due to plot, were made part of the people who rule over the place and get the most privilege and best life there compared to everyone else), to pull the heartstrings of fans on how terrible it is for them to die this way and how tragic that these two had to die in this event... All because the plot hyperfocused on the island's government (not even interesting to read and full of what felt like highschool drama) instead of the people the government looks after and who would be the greatest casualty here. All of this didn't matter either because everyone on that island was brought back to life (that plot device was present even before the event so caring about anything was going to be hard from the get go) including the "main characters" that died.. Guess who got to come back to life first while many others were on a waiting list years down the line still ?

Now compare this to Oda and what he did with Lulusia. All things related to this island were mostly cover stories, many cuts back and forth in a "meanwhile in...", ... But once Chapter 1060 hits, we feel the tragedy and horror, we are at awe at how much destruction was unleashed on these people. That scene was made even more horrifying and sad when it was animated in Episode 1089...and then we learn the reason the island was obliterated had nothing to do with Sabo being there. Any island we knew who partook in a revolution could have been a target. We find out that even that was an excuse because the main goal was to test a weapon and nothing more. Oda is using a tool here called "less is more" for this island and it was sincerely enough for me to care A WHOLE LOT about Lulusia even if the main characters never set a single foot there and it wasn't part of the main plot. There wasn't even a main character who "died" there either to pull on our heart strings. We just saw these people triumphantly come out of a political crisis and enjoy their first hours of freedom after lord knows how long and then

They were all gone. Erased. And even if they didn't all see what was about to happen to them, they felt it. They died in fear

Oda is very very good at his world building, because he makes sure these islands are LIVED in, not just that they EXIST. It's all well and good to wipe out an island to show the political and immoral powers that be, but we don't feel the impact unless we SEE the people and culture existing on the island.

It's why now, with Vegapunk explaining the state of the world, we are getting reactions from EVERY corner of the globe. We are being reminded how big this world is, how lived in this world is, and how many people are suffering under the world gov. We CARE about this world, we care about the PEOPLE in this world, and Oda's spent years building his world up for THIS moment. It's really spectacular.

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Zeus x Eurylochus - 70's au (Not sure what to call it)

I'm thinking about an AU set in the 70's where Zeus is living a double life. He and Eurylochus already have three daughters together. The oldest is Zeury at 10 years old, the middle is Eurylana at 8 years old, and the youngest is Lily at 5 years old.

(Don't ask me Zeus and Eury's ages yet because I'm not sure. And don't ask me how their daughters got here either. That's up to you how they were born.)

TW: Mentions of cheating, homophobia, and assassination attempts. That's about it.

Lore/Backstory

Eurylochus is very much aware of Zeus' other family, but he won't say anything because he's emotionally and mentally not in the mood for the drama.

Not to mention it's the 70's, gay relationships weren't accepted like that. So, the other reason Eury doesn't say anything is to make sure his and his kids' lives aren't at stake.

I'm not really sure how they met yet so don't ask. I'll give you the details once I have them.

And...Eurylochus loves Zeus. That's the third reason he won't say anything. They were childhood sweethearts so to speak but due to the times, Zeus had to marry Hera. It was an arranged marriage, so Zeus didn't really have much of a say in the matter anyway.

As for Zeus, he does love Eurylochus but doesn't have much time for him. He tries though. Genuinely.

Jobs

Of course, Zeus is a rich CEO of the city's most well-known tech company. Surely a job he worked for and DEFININETLY not a job his father gave him after he stepped down.

Eury isn't rich but he's not poor either. A well of middle class "single" dad who's a principle at his daughters' school. On the side he works at his mother's bakery.

Family/Friends

Eurylochus is the only child of a mechanic, James, and a baker, Angela. Both of his parents are aware of their son's relationship with Zeus and have mixed opinions about it.

James won't except the relationship at all nor will he acknowledge his grandchildren. Angela is more lenient though. She always wanted grandkids and well...she got them.

Angela kind of finds the irony laughable. All her life she's been told to be specific for what you wish for. She supposes she should have been specific to HOW her grandchildren came to be...and what gender she wanted her son to be with.

She's against his relationship with Zeus too but doesn't express it often.

I may change this to Eurylochus going no contact with his parents though, I'm not sure.

His friends Odysseus and Polites don't know that Zeus is the girls' father. They just know those girls belong to someone other than Eury.

-

At the beginning of her marriage, Hera would be so hurt when Zeus cheated on her. No amount of begging or "think of the children" could stop him. It got so bad until she just...snapped.

With every new whore he found would be a new one for her to...remove from life so to speak. With some should we kill them herself and with others she'd hire someone to do it.

Zeus just think Hera may have threatened the girls to stay away from him. He doesn't know that Hera has them assassinated.

Zeus and Hera have four children in total: Hephaestus (oldest), Athena (second oldest), Ares (middle child), and Hebe (youngest). I can't decide their ages yet so if you have any ideas let me know.

Zeus isn't exactly the greatest man in the world, especially to his children. It's clear that Athena is his favorite of the bunch...he mostly forgets about the others, especially Ares.

The only friends Zeus has been his brothers...that's it. And even they are iffy about it sometimes.

Family life

Zeus is actually a good father to his and Eury's daughters when he's around. He showers them with gifts, affection, and genuine care. Zeus does love Eurylochus, don't worry.

When he can he'll send flowers or other gifts to his address. Sometimes they'll even share a kiss or two. Maybe even a night of cuddling if their lucky.

It's rare for Zeus to be there for any holiday but when he can he goes all out. Christmas is his favorite time of year so even if he can't visit, he'll let his little girls know he loves them.

Eurylochus is of course, the disciplinary parent while Zeus is the fun one. The oldest girls favor Zeus a lot more, mainly because he buys them things when they ask for it.

Lily favors Eury more because from her perspective, he's around a lot more than Zeus is. But she likes Zeus too.

Eury is "Papa" and Zeus is "Dad"...I'll come up with more but let me know what ya'll think of this so far.

[dietmountaindreww]

the interview

Part 1

Drew Starkey x Female Reader

warnings: none!! fluff, slightly suggestive.

Y/N and Drew are in the back of the taxi which he politely ordered for them, sitting across each-other. Drew knew Y/N had anxiety and her leg can’t help but shake slightly with nerves. This would be her first press interview ever.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks and placed his hand on her leg softly over her skirt, helping to calm her shaking, not making a big deal out of the situation. “We will be there in no time, you are going to be amazing, i’m sure of it.” Drew promised, looking into Y/N’s eyes. She looked at him, before calming down; something about his touch was so soothing. “Yeah, i’m just nervous. But i’m sure i’ll be fine with you there.” Y/N replied calmly. “What’s it like? Being interviewed?”Drew smiles. “At first it’s weird, you aren’t sure how to answer questions sometimes. It sort of feels like being put on the spot, but it’s all part of being an actor.” He explained, wanting to help take some pressure off her as he could tell she was nervous. “After a few times it won’t be as weird anymore, trust me.. we will be fine, I know that.” Y/N smiled and nodded in appreciation of his gentle reassurance. “Thank you Drew.”

She looks out the taxi window to the busy streets of Downtown New York, before realising his hand was still resting on her leg.. she didn’t react physically of course but her heart and mind was racing at an unbelievable speed. “No worries.” Drew winked playfully, taking her hand from off her leg as he sets it on the window bar, he glanced over to see if she was okay. He didn’t want to make it awkward and all he wanted to do was comfort Y/N.. he’s also looking at her because she looks absolutely beautiful.. drawing his eyes away quickly before it was noticeable.

The taxi stops and they arrive at a reporters building, where their interview is. Although Drew had been in Outer Banks since season one, Y/N was joining him to do a dual interview seeing as she played the Drew’s character’s love interest.. essentially a main part in the show. “Is this the place” Y/N asked Drew as she stepped out the car after he insisted on holding the door open for her. Drew looked back at the building, slightly nervous now too. But he plastered a smile just for her. “Yeah, i think so.” He takes her hand softly, walking inside the building and heading to reception. Drew whispered to Y/N as a woman escorted them down a corridor. “You’ll be fine, the press will love you.” He’s a good friend and he knows how terrifying it can be in the limelight. Y/N returned a soft smile of gratitude before entering a small room where she and Drew shook hands with the Female Reporter and the Camera crew. Drew gives Y/N a professional nod as they sit in two chairs opposite the reporter, about to start live-streaming.

The reporter sits down, direct to them after hearing the command; “ACTION!” Y/N is happily giving the woman her full respect and attention, Drew admires this before doing the same.

“Drew, what is there to expect from your character, Rafe Cameron in season four of Outer Banks?” The woman shuffled her cards before listening to his response. Drew smiled, speaking as a natural. “I can promise you season four is going to be amazing. You are all definitely going to see me more in action, viewing Rafe at his best and his worst.. he certainly has some big choices to make and definitely some hard ones. For himself, and those who he loves.” Drew motioned to Y/N playfully, “A lot more action and drama, as if there wasn’t enough already.” The three of them chuckled at this. Nodding in agreement, the reporter turned to Y/N. “Y/N, as a new character how did you settle in with the cast? How was filming?” Y/N smiles and replied surprisingly with immediate confidence. “Working with the cast and filming crew has been such an honour, and i’ve made such great friends in the past few years of filming. The cast are like family to me already and we’re more than welcoming.” Drew smiles at her reply, he is more than happy she feels so comfortable and he knows how important it is to have the support of your friends and colleagues on set.

The reporter looked at both of them. “How did you find playing each others love interests, was it awkward?” Y/N giggled slightly before responding on her half, “I’ve loved working with Drew, honestly it was a dream. He’s so good at what he does and he makes everything fun, so nothing was ever awkward. I don’t think i could’ve done it with anyone else.” Drew chuckled, she was really doing well and it made him feel more at ease somehow. “I completely agree with Y/N, she’s so talented and definitely has her moments where she lights up the room.” Y/N blushes slightly before turning back to the reporter who has her next question ready.

“Will we be seeing buzzcut Rafe or curtain bangs Rafe this season?” They answer several more questions before the reporter was on the final two questions.“The fans want to know.. are you two a thing?”

The camera man looked in confusion at the reporter, seeing this question wasn’t on their set list. Y/N blushes profusely before smiling uncomfortably. “No.. just friends” she awkwardly replied. Drew feels quite awkward and doesn’t know how to answer this. “We’re just really good friends, nothing more.”

The reporter nodded. “Final question is selected by the viewers watching this live stream right now.. What’s each of your dream roles in a movie?”

Y/N smiles at the camera and waves cutely. “Hi everyone, thanks for your support!” Before turning back to the reporter, “I’d love to be in a marvel movie. I always loved the comics growing up.” Drew smiles. Y/N could definitely land a role in a marvel movie with that beauty and that body. “I can see that Y/N, As for me I would just love to be the lead in any sort of action movie, it’s really fun and i think i’m pretty good at it too. I would love to be in something like that.”

The reporter thanked them and Y/N and Drew are walking out to exit the building. “That was so much better than i thought it would go.” Y/N giggled as they walked out into main street. Drew shrugged, “That went pretty smoothly, i’m so proud of you.” Y/N blushes before Drew spoke and hugged her tightly with a friendly smile. “Do you want to celebrate your first interview success?”

Y/N felt a little flustered in his arms as she remembered a few weeks ago when he held her like this when they hooked up. It was like they never mentioned anything that happened.. friends with benefits with a full stop. “Sure , How were you thinking we celebrate?”

Drew pulled away, hands in pockets. “I thought we could have dinner and maybe some wine too.. or if you prefer we can just go to mine and watch a movie.. or we can go to town.. you choose. How does that sound?” He wants whatever she would like to do, and Y/N nodded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Wine sounds nice.”

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭— 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐅

Note: Check Description and other chapters first to understand the story ^^♡

Chapter 17

Bang Chan

"Your files are secure Chris."

click click tap

"There's no way he'll be able to get through this" Seungmin's fingers were flying over his laptop keyboard in such speed, his hands were basically going invisible.

"Are you sure?" I took a sip from my glass of bourbon, the liquid burning slightly as it went down.

The room was filled with the soft hum of his computer set up and the occasional beep from the various gadgets he had around the place, it feels like I stepped into a server room instead of his penthouse.

"Are you doubting me?" Seungmin looked up, arching an eyebrow, my hands immediately went up in surrender. He narrowed his eyes at me and then looked down at his screen, his fingers flying across the keyboard again.

"I've doubled the firewalls, encrypted the sensitive data, and set up real-time monitoring. If he even tries to breach the system, we'll know."

"Well, then good" I nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease from my shoulders. At least the digital side of things was secure. After that bastard's visit 2 days ago, I was positive it was Victor who must have tried to access our files to leak information about the launch.

Relief washed over me after Min assured about the security, I looked around at my friends gathered in the living room at his place this afternoon. If I spent another hour in my office I'd definitely lose my mind, so I made plans with Seungmin to talk about the file security and we decided to invite the guys over as well since we didn't meet after Christmas and New Year's.

"So," Hyunjin said, breaking the silence with a grin. "Someone disappeared for a long time during Mr. John's party"

The guys' eyes flickered to Hyunjin then me, I shifted in my seat taking another sip of my bourbon while having Hyunjin smirking at me without an end.

"Oooooh," Han interjected, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Spill the tea, Hyunjin. What happened?"

"Nothing happened" I said defensively. The last thing I needed was for them to turn this into a grand drama. But it wasn't like they were gonna stop anyway.

Hyunjin leaned back, stretching his arms on the head of the couch. "Well, I was just chatting with Aria, you know, making polite conversation. Then Chris here comes over, looking like he's about to rip someone's head off, and next thing we know, the two of them disappeared for the rest of the night."

The room went to a chorus of oooohs, Changbin bursted laughing, slapping his knee, the sound echoing through the whole room. Sometimes his laughter was funnier than the joke itself, contagious and impossible to ignore.

"Oh man, did you get jealous? Of our Hyunjin?!" Changbin managed between laughs, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

"The hell? No I didn't."

Yes you did.

I kept my glass on the table with a soft thud and looked at him, "I just didn't like the way this guy," I gestured at Hyunjin, narrowing my eyes at who was supressing his laughter, "was looking at her"

Felix chuckled. "Sounds like jealousy to me. You were worried Hyunjin would sweep her off her feet with his charms."

Hyunjin closed his eyes nodding proudly. "I mean, can you blame her? I'm the Versace Prince after all."

Ever since he got crowned Versace Prince by Donatella Versace herself, it's been impossible to shut his mouth about it. Not that I blame him. I'd be crazy flattered if I were to get crowned in only a few months of modelling for them.

"I wasn't jealous." I said firmly. "I was just concerned"

Han wagged his finger at me. "Sounds like someone's got it bad. You actually care, huh?"

I sighed, shaking my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. "It's not like that. I just wanted to make sure she was okay."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that," Lee Know said with a smirk.

"But disappearing with her for the rest of the night? That's a bit more than just 'making sure she's okay.'" His fingers air quoting as he spoke.

The guys laughed, but I couldn't stop from playfully scoffing at their teasing. If I told my old self who was erratic and carefree in Europe that I am now married and my friends giving me shit, calling me out on being 'jealous', that Chris would have asked me if I was high on crack.

"We heard about the whole 'wife calling you during a meeting' thing. Bet that was a first, huh?"

My head immediately turned to Seungmin as Changbin's question remained unanswered, the guy was hiding his grinning face behind that screen, trying to avoid my glare.

Seungmin glanced up, feigning innocence. "What? It's not like it's a state secret."

I rubbed the back of my neck and cracked my knuckles, "She never calls me, so I knew something was wrong."

Felix leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And you rushed home like a knight in shining armor, didn't you?"

"Shut up, Felix," I glared at him. "I did what anyone would do."

"Yeah, right," Han chimed in, nudging I.N. "Our fearless leader, dropping everything for his lady. It's almost romantic."

"Almost?" I.N raised an eyebrow. "I'd say it's pretty damn romantic. Next thing we know, he'll be writing her love letters."

"Or serenading her with his guitar," Lee Know added with a smirk.

"You guys are impossible. It wasn't that dramatic." I grabbed my glass again and chugged down the remaining liquid, coughing lightly. Jack Daniel's is better.

"Sure it wasn't," Felix said, grinning. "Just admit it. You were worried."

"Not worried," I corrected, trying to maintain some dignity. "Just concerned."

"Concerned, worried, same thing," Lee Know said, waving a hand dismissively.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my cool. "What we do in private doesn't need to be involved in our conversations."

"Right," Changbin interjected, a sly grin on his face. "Because what happens behind closed doors is where the real magic happens, isn't it?"

I rolled my eyes. "You guys have way too much time on your hands"

"Since you're the only married person among us and constantly need advice, it very much is an interesting topic," Seungmin added, glancing over the top of his laptop with a smirk.

Despite their relentless teasing, there was a warmth in their banter that reminded me why these moments felt kind of good. Friends who give you shit and still have your back, they were the best.

Hyunjin clapped me on the back getting up from his spot, “Just remember, if you ever need guidance on how to keep a lady happy, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass." I kept Aria happy enough— probably not in the best way, but I'd rather step on a thousand Legos than see her that close to him again.

What the fuck. Am I actually jealous?

As I leaned back on the couch, my mind swirled with thoughts. I'm beginning to hate the way I'm starting to feel around Aria. Getting too close to her will only make it harder for both of us when our...deadline reaches.

Which is in exactly seven months from now.

This was a problem. Not just because of the ticking clock on our arrangement, but because I wasn't supposed to feel this way. I shouldn't feel this way. We had a clear line drawn between us. But lately, that line was starting to blur.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. Although at the same time, I'm starting to actually like how there's someone to go home to. Unlike last year when my mansion was empty, my housekeeper and butler spent more time there than I did.

It was unsettling how quickly I'd grown used to her laughter echoing through the hallways and her presence filling the emptiness. The way her cheeks swell when she smiles or how good she feels in my arms. And how quickly I'd come to look forward to it.

"We'll figure this out"

"And you won't. You've come this far"

Aria's words replayed in my head again, the way she reassured me. There was a warmth in her voice, a sincerity that cut through my defenses.

She believed in me, in us.

It was more than I ever expected from this arrangement.

I stared at my friends who were engrossed in their own worlds. Min's head glued to his laptop, Hyunjin, Changbin and Lee Know gaming, Felix texting and scrolling his phone while Han and I.N snacking, engaging in a conversation.

And my mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I was used to control, to having everything in its place. But Aria had a way of dismantling my rules without even trying. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

Part of me wanted to push her away, like I did with almost everyone except for my parents and my friends. To keep the distance that had always been there. But another part of me, a part I was struggling to ignore, wanted to pull her closer.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. This was a dangerous path. Letting my guard down, letting her in, could only end in heartache.

But as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I couldn't deny that she was becoming a part of my life. More than just a contract and a part I wasn't sure I wanted to let go of when the time came.

With the launch and fucking Victor trying to bring me down, my life had become a balancing act on a razor’s edge. Every decision, every move felt more critical than ever. And now, with Aria in the mix, it was getting harder to keep everything on track.

I leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling of Min's living room, the sounds of my friends' laughter fading into the background. The weight of my thoughts pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.

Seven months.

That was all the time I had to figure out if I could let go of the woman who was turning my world upside down, or if I was willing to risk everything for a chance at something real.

"Are sure you want to have your Pre-launch event in this Venue?" The sudden voice felt like a splash of cold water, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What?" My voice got caught in my throat, I turned to see Han, standing next to me scrolling his phone without looking up.

"The venue. Are you sure you wanna have the event there?" He asked arching an eyebrow, removing his eyes from the screen.

"Yeah." I replied, trying to refocus. "This place has the right mix of elegance and exclusivity."

"Cool. I'll email you the details by tomorrow and the guest list?"

"Jane has it set. She should have sent it to you by now" I said, shifting slightly on the plush sofa. Han nodded, his fingers moving swiftly as he made a note.

My father suggested we hold a Pre-launch event to build hype and attract potential investors for the upcoming line. He always had a knack for these things, knowing just when and how to create a buzz.

He also suggested I speak with the event host he has been working with over the years but I knew better to trust Han with my event.

Just at the age of 23, Han managed to host successful events for multiple brands and had quickly built a reputation as the go-to guy for high-profile launches. His attention to detail, coupled with his ability to anticipate what would captivate an audience, made him invaluable.

"Just make sure everything is flawless. No room for errors," I reminded Han, though I knew I didn't need to. His track record spoke for itself.

"Don't worry," Han replied, his tone confident. "I've got everything under control. This is going to be the talk of the town."

I nodded at him and took a moment to look around at the guys. Seungmin, was the tech genius, which makes sense why his penthouse looks more like a micro data center rather than an actual house, who made sure my digital security was airtight and of his other clients as well.

Changbin, lounging comfortably, was the CFO of Tommy Hilfiger, his sharp mind for finance keeping budgets and investments on track. Lee Know involved shaping trends and setting new standards in luxury fashion was the Creative Director of Gucci.

Felix and Hyunjin, the dynamic duo, were renowned models for Louis Vuitton and Versace, while I.N, with his magnetic presence and social media savvy, served as a brand ambassador for Bottega Veneta.

And I, currently am COO but the future CEO of Aurelius.

As the evening sun painted the penthouse in golden hues, the excitement and anticipation among us were palpable for the Pre-launch event. I glanced at my watch, it was almost 5pm, I did kind of promise Aria I'll be home by the evening.

Since I truly suck at telling how I feel, I might as well treat Aria a bit more...nicer, for the remaining six months before we have to part ways. For some damn reason that thought made my heart clench, it was a heavily uncomfortable feeling.

With a sigh, I stood up from the plush sofa, catching the attention of my friends.

Changbin raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Off to be the dutiful husband, Chris?"

I chuckled lightly, rolling my eyes as I straightened my shirt. "Something like that."

"She'll be coming to the party won't she?" Felix asked, sitting down on the couch holding a glass of water. Him, I.N, and Han never drink when it's not a weekend.

"Yes," I tried to keep my tone casual.

"Better watch out," Seungmin who finally laid down his laptop, gestured at Hyunjin, "Or this guy might steal her away again" said with a smirk spread across his face as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.

Hyunjin grinned mischievously. "Like I said, can you blame her? I've got irresistible charm."

The guys chuckled, and I could feel the heat rising to my face. "Don't push your luck," I said, my voice was tinged with annoyance.

"Why not? It's not like it bothers you" He let out deep chuckle, somehow that only irritated me more.

"She's my wife."

The room fell into a silence like a sudden drop in temperature, leaving the air thick and tense. The words slipped out unexpectedly, surprising even myself, the guys exchanged glances, then all their eyes fell on me as I stood their as if I was rooted into the floor.

"About time you admitted that" Lee Know chimed in, clinking his glass with Seungmin, a cocky grin playing on his lips while bringing his glass up.

"Let's not make a big deal out of it." I muttered, slipping my phone and keys into my pocket, I could feel the weight of their scrutiny, their eyes on me like lasers. 

"Too late for that," I.N's amused expression was hard to miss.

I could feel the weight of their gazes, their smirks, and the unspoken words hanging in the air. Their reactions only fueled my desire to get out of here.

"See you guys later." I grabbed the jacket off the couch and headed for the door, their laughter and teasing followed me. But I didn't bother to defend it. I didn't want to defend it.

As I made my way towards the elevator, that same unfamiliar feeling settled in my chest.

The lights flashed as I clicked the key to my Porsche, the engine roared and I swifted into the streets. The sun began descending in the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellow, the nightlife beginning to stir as I drove by.

A flower boutique caught my eye as I drove through the bustling streets, I went past it, then without thinking, I U-turned. I pulled up to the curb, parked and stepped out into the setting evening air.

I haven't stopped at a flower shop before, hell I never had a reason to buy flowers in the first place.

The bell above the shop door chimed softly as I entered. The place was surrounded by gorgeous flowers, filling the air with the sweet scent of fresh blooms. A young woman behind the counter looked up, smiling.

"Good evening. How can I help you?"

"Hello. I'm looking for tulips," I said, my voice sounding almost foreign to my ears.

"Of course," She gestured me to a vibrant display of flowers, and there they were, their petals a mix of pinks and purples sitting in delicate glass vases. I stepped closer, the sweet fragrance enveloping me.

She wrapped a neat bouquet of purple tulips delicately and tied it with a satin ribbon as I searched for my wallet.

"Someone must be very special," She commented as she finished wrapping it.

"Yeah," I replied, taking the bouquet, feeling a slight unfamiliar flutter in my chest.

"She is"

I handed a hundred dollar bill, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of it before she quickly composed herself.

"Sorry sir, we can't break a hundred."

I smiled slightly, holding out the bill. "Keep it," I said. "It's a tip." 

Her expression shifted to one of surprise, then gratitude, her cheeks flushing slightly as she accepted the bill. "Thank you," she replied, her voice sincere.

I nodded, barely acknowledging her thanks as I turned my attention back to the bouquet in my hands. The tulips were delicate, almost fragile, their colors vivid against the darkening evening outside.

I walked back to my car and placed the bouquet on the passenger seat, it's soft fragrance mixing with the scent of leather. The city lights flashed past in a blur as I drove home as the flowers rested beside me.

Once I pulled up to the driveway of my mansion, my heart began thundering in my chest like a like a drumbeat echoing through an empty hall.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car grabbing the bouquet, and walked inside, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. The house was quiet, the only sound was my footsteps on the marble floor and the door slowly closing shut behind me.

"Aria?" My voice echoed, bouncing off the walls, only the lights from first floor and the living room were on, Aria was no where to be found until she came out of the guest room holding her tablet.

"Oh Chris, Hey. You're home early."

"Yeah I was with the guys and um," A hand embarassingly went behind my neck while the other came from my back, holding the bouquet.

When the hell did I hide the bouquet behind my back?!

"I got these for you." I handed it to her, my heart racing at the speed of a runaway train.

Aria's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she just stared at the flowers. Then, a soft smile spread across her face as she took the bouquet from me, her fingers brushing lightly against mine.

"Oh Chris, thank you."

I shifted uncomfortably, not used to these kind of intimate gestures. "You're welcome. I know they're your favorite."

She looked up at me, her eyes shining with genuine appreciation. "They are."

Feeling the awkwardness of the moment, I cleared my throat, it felt like I had a cactus shoved right down it. "I know that we are a bit... complicated"

Dear fucking heaven. Why was talking to my own wife so hard?

Her eyes were glued to me, then fell on the tulips, then back to me. Good God, I might explode here out of sheer discomfort. I felt like a teenager fumbling through his first confession.

"I just wanted to, you know, show that I'm, I don't know. Trying."

She smiled softly, her fingers tracing the petals of the tulips. "I can see that, and it means a lot."

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and tension. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I'm not exactly Mr. Romantic."

She laughed gently, a sound that was both comforting and nerve-wracking. "I won't. But it's nice to see this side of you."

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ease the tension in me. "Thanks. Don't expect too much."

She just shook her head, chuckled and walked near the vase that was on our coffee table removing the roses and putting in the tulips. Okay, since when did we have roses in the house?

And that's it?

Whatever. I didn't care. I took a deep breath and walked to her, her presence was genuinely comforting and terrifying at the same time, I started to wonder when did I get so affected by her.

She glanced up from the vase, her expression soft but curious. "Want dinner?"

A knowing worked its way onto my mouth at her question and right as she turned away figuring out my intentions, I grabbed her wrist, pulling her to me and lifted her up on my shoulder.

"CHRIS!"

"Oh yes sweetheart, I do."

------------------------

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Thank you for reading!

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Next Chapter

[agirlwithdemonblood]

The Celebrity Next Door: Chapter 8: Embracing Enough

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Chapter Summary: A day spent on the board walk brings a whirwind of emotions.

Warnings: Panic attacks, fluff, panicking, insecurities.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Time flies when you're having fun, or so they say.

I used to doubt it; fun didn't always make time race by for me. But this past week with Jensen and his kids felt like just hours since they arrived. Now here they were, packing up to head back to their mom's place.

I gathered my things, slipping on my shoes by the back door, preparing to leave when Jensen wandered over, a playful smirk on his face. "Where are you sneaking off to?" he teased, pulling me close by my coat.

I chuckled, gently pushing his chest back. "Home, silly."

His smile faltered, and he looked at me, surprised, almost hurt. "Why?"

Confusion washed over me as I approached him, offering a polite smile. "What do you mean, why? Out of respect. Remember last time?"

His expression turned cold, and he glanced away, attempting to rebuild his walls. "Hey, Jensen, don't do that," I urged gently. "I'm not trying to upset you. Last time we agreed we were enjoying the drama-free zone. We don't have to change anything."

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want it to change. I don't want to hide anymore. This past week has been amazing for all of us. I want our little bubble to pop and step into the real world, together."

I smiled, setting my bag down and moving closer to wrap my arms around him. "Then let's pop it."

Half an hour later, the kids' mom arrived.

I swallowed my nerves, standing from my spot, glancing to Jensen who seemed even more nervous than I was.

Her face dropped when she saw me, a knowing smile on her lips. "Oh, Hi. Y/N, right?" she greeted, stepping closer to us.

I nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes, nice to see you again, Sarah!"

She maintained her composure, glancing at Jensen, who was unusually quiet and still, frozen almost. "Jensen? Are you going to say hi or just stand there like a deer in headlights?" she teased.

Jensen managed a polite smile, shaking off his nerves. "Hey, Sarah. How was the drive?"

She shrugged, looking towards her car. "Not bad. I do miss Austin, though. Might consider moving back."

Jensen's jaw clenched, his expression turning cold and guarded, walls going up brick by brick. I stepped back, letting them talk, sitting beside the kids on the stairs.

"So, did you guys have a good week?" I asked.

Katie nodded, leaning against my shoulder. "I'll miss you!"

I laughed softly, touched by her words. "I'll miss you too, Katie. But don't worry, I live right next door. Come visit me whenever you're back, okay?"

She nodded eagerly, and I turned to Kevin, who sat with arms crossed, wearing a grouchy expression. "And you, Kevin? Did you have a good week?"

He shrugged and huffed, retreating into his cold behaviour as if the week hadn't happened at all. It stung a bit, but he was a kid, struggling with the back-and-forth between parents. It couldn't be easy.

The parents' voices rose before falling silent altogether. Jensen walked away from Sarah, shaking his head, and approached Katie and Kevin, attempting a smile. "Come on, guys. Time to get in the car."

We waved goodbye as they drove off, and I couldn't help but feel a sting of sadness seeing Katie and Jensen look so downhearted. They weren't my family yet, but I could feel myself growing emotional seeing the hurt that filled the area.

Once the car was out of sight, Jensen sat on the stairs, and I joined him quickly. He stared out at the road, jaw clenched, fists tight with whatever was going on in his mind.

"Jensen?" I whispered, catching his attention.

He turned towards me, managing a sad smile. "I'm good. It's just a lot sometimes."

I nodded understandingly, squeezing his hand tightly. "Well, why don't we do something today? Get out of the house a bit?"

He smiled genuinely and squeezed my hand. "Yeah. Let's do it."

After looking up things to do, Jensen suggested we visit the beachside market. It had little kiosks and stands with handmade items, something I was excited to explore.

We parked on the street, his hand finding mine immediately. Jensen was never shy about affection in the right moments. With his kids around, it was innocent; just the two of us, it was constant and comforting.

As we strolled down the pier, I admired the beautiful booths displaying a range of handmade items—henna art, handmade bags, clothing, and more. It felt like walking through an art exhibit, each stall captivating my attention.

Jensen chuckled softly, drawing my gaze. "What?" I asked nervously.

He smirked, pulling me close. "You're adorable. That's what."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, Jensen was never shy of that either. He'd constantly throw compliments at me, telling me how beautiful I was, how adorable. He didn't realize how much those words meant to me, especially since I didn't feel like skmeone who belonged beside a celebrity like him, but he made me feel otherwise.

We continued down the boardwalk, stopping at each booth. Jensen paused at a display of handmade gemstone necklaces while I spotted something intriguing at the nearby booth—a handmade beanie with "COD" embroidered on it, Call of Duty.

My thoughts turned to Kevin. Would he like it? Would he find it ridiculous? Jensen wrapped his arms around me from behind, a soft kiss on my shoulder sending shivers down my spine. "What are you looking at?"

I smiled, pointing to the beanie hanging on the rack. "I'm not sure if Kevin would like it, but..."

He turned me to face him, a wide grin on his face. "He'd love it."

We purchased the beanie and were about to leave when giggling caught my attention. Two girls from a nearby booth were whispering and giggling, eyeing Jensen like he was a celebrity cutout.

Time seems to fly when you're having fun, or so they say. I used to doubt it; fun didn't always make time race by for me. But this past week with Jensen and his kids felt like mere hours since they arrived. Now they were packing up to head back to their mom's place. Kevin and Katie sorted their bags in the hallway while Jensen came down the stairs, as usual, to see them off.

I gathered my things, slipping on my shoes by the back door, preparing to leave when Jensen hurried over, a playful smirk on his face. "Where are you sneaking off to?" he teased, pulling me close by my coat.

I chuckled, gently pushing his chest back. "Home, silly."

His smile faltered, and he looked at me, surprised, almost hurt. "Why?"

Confusion washed over me as I approached him, offering a polite smile. "What do you mean, why? Out of respect. Remember last time?"

His expression turned cold, and he glanced away, attempting to rebuild his walls. "Hey, Jensen, don't do that," I urged gently. "I'm not trying to upset you. Last time we agreed we were enjoying the drama-free zone. We don't have to change anything."

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want it to change. I don't want to hide anymore. This past week has been amazing for all of us. I want our bubble to be real. I want us to step out into the real world together."

I smiled, setting my bag down and moving closer to wrap my arms around him. "Then let's change it."

Half an hour later, the kids' mom arrived. I swallowed my nerves, standing my ground as Jensen seemed even more nervous than me.

Her face dropped when she saw me, a knowing smile on her lips. "Oh, hi. Y/N, right?" she greeted, stepping closer to us.

I nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes, nice to see you again, Daneel!"

She maintained her composure, glancing at Jensen, who was unusually quiet and still, frozen almost. "Jensen? Are you going to say hi or just stand there like a deer in headlights?" she teased.

Jensen managed a polite smile, shaking off his nerves. "Hey, Daneel. How was the drive?"

She shrugged, looking towards her car. "Not bad. I do miss Austin, though. Might consider moving back."

Jensen's jaw clenched, his expression turning cold and guarded, walls going up brick by brick. I stepped back, letting them talk, sitting beside the kids on the stairs.

"So, did you guys have a good week?" I asked.

Katie nodded, leaning against my shoulder. "I'll miss you!"

I laughed softly, touched by her words. "I'll miss you too, Katie. But don't worry, I live right next door. Come visit me whenever you're back, okay?"

She nodded eagerly, and I turned to Kevin, who sat with arms crossed, wearing a surly expression. "And you, Kevin? Did you have a good week?"

He shrugged and huffed, retreating into his chilly demeanor as if the week hadn't happened at all. It stung a bit, but he was a kid, grappling with the back-and-forth between parents. It couldn't be easy.

The parents' voices rose before falling silent altogether. Jensen walked away from Daneel, shaking his head, and approached Katie and Kevin, attempting a smile. "Come on, guys. Time to get in the car."

We waved goodbye as they drove off, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness seeing Katie and Jensen look so crestfallen. They weren't my family yet, but I felt a deep emotional tug.

Once the car was out of sight, Jensen sat on the stairs, and I joined him quickly. He stared out at the road, jaw clenched, fists tight with some inner turmoil.

"Jensen?" I whispered, catching his attention.

He turned towards me, managing a sad smile. "I'm good. It's just a lot sometimes."

I nodded understandingly, squeezing his hand tightly. "Well, why don't we do something today? Get out of the house a bit?"

He smiled, the first genuine one all morning. "Yeah. Let's do it."

After looking up things to do, Jensen suggested we visit the beachside market. It boasted kiosks and stands with handmade items, something I was excited to explore.

We parked on the street, his hand finding mine immediately. Jensen was never shy about affection in the right moments. With his kids around, it was innocent; just the two of us, it was constant and comforting.

As we strolled down the pier, I marveled at the beautiful booths displaying an array of handmade goods—henna art, handmade bags, clothing, and more. It felt like walking through an art exhibit, each stall captivating my attention.

Jensen chuckled softly, drawing my gaze. "What?" I asked nervously.

He smirked, pulling me close. "You're adorable. That's what."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, Jensen never holding back his admiration. He didn't realize how much those words meant to me. I didn't feel like someone who belonged beside a celebrity like him, but he made me feel otherwise.

We continued down the boardwalk, stopping at each booth. Jensen paused at a display of handmade gemstone necklaces while I spotted something intriguing at the adjacent booth—a handmade beanie with "COD" embroidered on it, Call of Duty.

My thoughts turned to Kevin. Would he like it? Would he find it ridiculous? Jensen wrapped his arms around me from behind, a soft kiss on my shoulder sending shivers down my spine. "What are you looking at?"

I smiled, pointing to the beanie hanging on the rack. "I'm not sure if Kevin would go for it, but..."

He turned me to face him, a wide grin on his face. "He'd love it."

I purchased the beanie and were about to leave when giggling caught my attention. Two girls from a nearby booth were whispering and giggling, eyeing Jensen like he was a celebrity cutout.

I glanced at Jensen, who seemed unbothered, unaware of the giggles or the fingers being pointed his way, and then I remembered. He's a celebrity-this is normal for him.

We started to walk back down the boardwalk when their high pitched screams stopped us in our tracks, the girls from before rushing over, stopping only inches from Jensen.

"Jensen! Oh my god! Can we get a picture please?"

Jensen turned towards me apologetically, but I shrugged it off with a polite smile. I knew this could have happened, I knew he was a celebrity, I just forgot. I didn't realize how intense this could be. How does he handle this?

After snapping a few photos for the girls, I handed back their phone. Insecurities started swallowing me, watching their perfect smiles, beautiful clothing and sun-kissed skin, and than there was me. I wasn't the type anyone would expect to see with a celebrity. Anxiety crept in, wondering why Jensen chose me.

I passed the phone back and started walking down the boardwalk, my anxiety rising with every step, the air in my lungs squeezing tight as my mind continued it's torture.

He caught up as I walked ahead, his hand gently resting on my back. "Hey... Are you okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. Panic swirled inside me, doubts echoing loudly.

Your not enough. Your fooling yourself by thinking he would EVER want to be with you. Jensen deserves better. He doesn't find you attractive. You're nothing.

"Honey?" Jensen whispered, stopping me and looking into my eyes, concern etched on his face.

I swallowed hard, a raspy cough escaping me, breathing fast. "Okay... okay, deep breaths," Jensen coached gently, his touch comforting.

I hated it. I hated that he was staring at me like this. I hated that I was ruining everything with my stupid mind. I hated that he had to take care of me. I hated that I wasn't good enough for him.

His hand was gentle yet firm on my arm, leading me to the stairs on the pier to get some privacy. I shakingly sat down, throwing my head in my hands to avoid whatever pity look he was offering me.

"Honey. Please talk to me, what's going on?"

Great job Y/N, now your worrying him for no reason.

"Jensen... you don't need to... I'll be okay," I managed between breaths, but the fear and sadness in my eyes were evident.

"Why are you saying this?" he asked softly, tilting his head, eyes searching mine.

I shook my head, tears streaming down. "Because... I'm not worth it... I don't fit in your world, Jensen Ackles and... I'm just me."

He took my hand, tilting my chin to meet his gaze. A soft smile graced his lips as he spoke, his eyes firm. "Says who?"

"Everybody." I raised my voice, the anxiety rising each moment. "Society. You seen those girls, I'm nothing compared to them. Their sun kissed skin, beautiful outfits and model like faces. I'm not like that at all."

He nodded and moved in front of me, holding my hands tightly. "You're right. Your not like those girls, that's why I like you. I love that even though you've been here for a while, you still have light skin, I love that I can clearly see the sun spots and freckles on your face, I love that you don't spend hours in the mirror putting makeup on, you just instantly look gorgeous. What you look like doesn't determine your worth but if it did, trust me your more than worth it."

I rolled my eyes and gained the courage to stand, my thoughts spiralling. "You don't need to say that."

He moved quickly, grabbing my arm and spinning me around until I was nestled tightly against him, his hand softly urging my head to rest on his chest.

"You are more than enough. You've never demanded anything from me. You gave me a second chance when I didn't deserve it. You've helped me countless times without expecting anything in return. And you connect with my kids so well—Kevin won't admit it, but he likes you. You've made an effort to play video games with him, to do what he enjoys. Katie takes up a lot of time, and I worry he feels left out, but you see him. You effortlessly balance everything, without seeking praise."

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly, feeling him ground me. He understood me better than anyone.

"You will always be more than enough for me. You're the one I want to be with. Those other girls? They're not beautiful to me. You are beautiful. Naturally, flawlessly gorgeous. Just look at yourself... You take my breath away, honey."

Jensen gently lifted my face towards his, kissing me with a passion I'd never known before. Our bodies pressed together, warmth enveloping us. His hands moving to my hair, pulling me impossibly closer, making sure that I knew he meant what he said.

Each pause for breath left us gasping, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. We were falling in love, or perhaps we already had.

If he could love me like this, then maybe, just maybe, I truly was enough.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 9 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[absolutebl]

This Week In BL - Everything is Awful or New or Both

Feb 2023 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessmen t of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

My School President (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - It’s an ep 11 so we knew this was gonna be a downer. This was definitely a “date me date my friends” kind of situation. At this rate, GeminiFourth’s other characters in Chicken are going to kiss before TinnGun do. I love Tinn’s dad. Also, it looks like our a tiny little ship of crumbs is sailing. How cute is that!? Sunshine + sunshine! Bonza. 

Bed Friend (Sat YT & iQIYI uncut) 1 of 8 - Fuck buddies get messy, AKA Between Us the second cumming only this time in an office (and on a desk). I have been waiting for James to hold down (or be held down in) a BL for years! All hail the new kings of high heat. BUCKLE UP I GOT A LOT TO SAY. I like that there’s a dark underbelly (*snicker*) of trauma to this one, it has a slightly a Japanese feel which suits mature characters and an office setting. King’s yearning worried eyes are glorious. Poor thing, he totally adores this beautiful broken fragile boy and doesn’t know how to capture his attention. I admit Net was the one I worried about with this pair. James was always gonna be great. It turns out, I didn’t have to worry. This is an awesome show and I fucking love it. It nearly scooped the top spot. Frankly this is the Office BL I have been WAITING for Thailand to give us. 

NOTE: I watched both YT’s cut and iQIYI’s uncut version. (Anyone else feel odd using those terms under a high heat BL context?) I like YT’s better, mostly iQIYI’s interface is shit. Deets? There was a little extra from the “morning after regrets flashbacks” but not so much I think you’ll regret missing it. Unless you REALLY prefer high heat. The emotion of the sexual connection and Uea’s lonely submissive need was transmitted in both versions, but the iQIYI is slightly more MOAR. 

Never Let Me Go (Tues YT) ep 10 of 12 - Flashbacks to the cutest boyfriends ever and then PAIN. All I can think is “thank fuck this was handed to Pond & Phuwin.” One of the world’s saddest executions of the sniff test trope. Meanwhile, Perth is SO GOOD but I wish Chopper would record his conversations with his dad. Look, we all know Chopper is gonna take his dad’s bullet for Nuengdiao, right? Oh well, if you didn’t know, I just told you. 

Moonlight Chicken (Weds YT) 3-4 of 8 - The plot... erm... thickens. I told you Jim had a tragic backstory with an ex. And now it’s all gotten VERY messy. Sigh. Fourth & Gemini are cute, tho. 

Hit Bite Love (Sat YouTube) ep 4-5 of 6 - I do like King & Burger. The idea of giving your perspective boyfriend your CV is ADORBS. Auditioning for the part, as it were. I would like it known that my sexual identity is chili (AKA spicy) henceforth. (My pronouns are MaxTul & sometimes Phi.) Look, this is an absurd show. Last ep it was BDSM 101, this ep we got a lesson on how to use a condom properly? AND why the closet is both necessary and damaging? I mean I applaud their educational endeavors but BL: The After School Special? Did I sign up for Degrassi Junior BL while I wasn’t looking? 

Boyband (Thurs YT) 1 of 10 - BL drama about putting an idol boyband together. AKA how to make ABL suffer by combing favorite (celebrity romances, Kpop) and least favorite (bad singing) tropes. AND? I REALLY like it. It’s fun! What singing there is, is looped not live. So we in Cutie Pie territory. It’s easy to skip. The pairing is rich/poor and I like an other side of the tracks romance.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 5: Love in the Future (Taiwan Weds Viki) ep 8 of 10 (or 15&16 of 20) - Covid strikes. Boyfriends are worried. Omg they are so cute and hot and awkward. Tension in the office politics too. It’ll be okay, babies. 

Jack o’Frost (Japan) ep 1 of 6 - After getting dumped, Ritsu has an accident and gets amnesia. Ikuya, his ex, struggles to help him regain his memories while wondering about the state of their relationship. But Ritsu falls in love with Ikuya all over again. Engaging opening but I’m just not sure about the premise. 

It’s Airing But ... 

Chains of Heart (Sat Gaga) 1 of 10 - Not dropping for me until tomorrow so it’ll be in next week’s round up I hope. Suspense thriller about a forest ranger, smugglers, amnesia, and lost love. Stars Haii (Cirrus in TT2) and Marc (My Gear & Your Gown in YYY). Adapted from a Y-novel of the same name by TJ Tommy.

My Beautiful Man 2 (Viki & Gaga) - Because there are only 4 eps, I decided to wait and binge this one. 

Cafe In Love (Thai) 10 eps on Ch3+ - Thai pulp, stars the actor who played Noh’s best friend Ohm in Love Sick 2. When his coffee shop closes, a man tries everything to save it and falls in love along the way. I had a hunt but can’t find it. 

Moments Of Love (Thai) Feb 14 Foremorfilm Production movie for cinema release. Was originally a series with Golf (609 Bedtime Story & The Eclipse) to direct, and SmartJames (LeonPhob from Don't Say No) to star. BUT is now something totally different. We’re all confused.

Destiny Seeker (Tues WeTV ) 10 eps - it’s not on any WeTV I can get ahold of. Engineering student Songkram is head of dorm 3, for "strong & athletic" students. Aye is head of dorm 2, for the "good looking" students. Aye used to be Songkram's tutor and friend, but they fell apart after becoming dorm heads. Aye is actually in love with Songkram but thinks Sonkram likes someone else. Songkram actually likes Aye. So, Bad Buddy the pulp rebirth meets that weird Japanese “girls-crossdressing-as-boys for love and infiltrating secret society of hotness” tradition.

Our Winter (Thai & Korea ?) - TutorYim vehicle supposedly airing now. Search me. 

The End Of The World, With You AKA Bokura no Micro na Shuumatsu (Japan Sun Gaga) - DNFing this one. It’s way too high heat for them to end it happily and full of dark stuff like cheating, suicide, depression, abuse. I actively HATE one of the main characters and mildly dislike the other. Easier to just stop watching.  

Next Week Looks Like This:

2023 forthcoming BL master post. (see comments some are inaccurate, NOT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

My favorite thing to happen in BL this week. Possibly EVER.

Honestly, such a weird little After School Special. (All Hit Bite Love.) 

SAIL MY LITTLE CRUMBS! SAIL!!!! 

You TELL her, Paw. (All My School President) 

We stan the out boy. Own it, babycakes. (Moonlight Chicken.) 

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? Beautiful by BEAST, look, sometimes we gotta go back to our roots. Check out the legends for what they were, criticize my taste later. Fuck I miss those times when everyone had to sing live and the one with the hot mic had to stop dancing to catch his breath because, ya know, he still had to sing. 

ALL that said, you slackers should check out HELLO GLOOM - Dancing In The Dark. I alway said IMFACT was the most woke Kpop group, now they broken up(?) nice to see ‘em solo in queer fuck-off style. 

[marley-manson]

M*A*S*H for the fandom ask

Thank you! 💖

Favorite character:

Hawkeye!!! My guy! I have written so many odes to him so I'll refrain here, but man. Big fave.

Least Favorite character:

Potter. Sorry, he's a sweet loveable old traditional man and that absolutely sucks ass for the political messaging, which is my second favourite aspect of mash after the homoeroticism.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Hawk/Trap

Hawk/Frank

Hawk/BJ

Hawk/omc

aaaand Hawk/Charles I guess

Character I find most attractive:

Margie probably

Character I would marry:

Honestly, none of them. All the women with speaking roles are either military volunteers or have established lives and obligations in a war torn country.

Character I would be best friends with:

The random tertiary characters who don't do anything obnoxious and are just kinda there. Kellye, Igor, various unnamed nurses. I don't want to be friends with someone who could be a sitcom character.

a random thought:

I love how long running episodic tv eventually gets like, a fanfic esque vibe, where the writers are writing fully established characters in a fully established setting and incorporating fully established details into their ideas. I find it very satisfying and enjoyable. There's an exchange in Peace on Us, it's a random little offhand line, totally nothing, but basically Charles tells Hawkeye to stop complaining because he has the most points since he's been there longest, so he'll be going home before any of them anyway. And Hawkeye's response is basically, yeah I've been here so long that I have every right to complain.

And I love that in order to write that exchange some writer had to remember that Hawkeye's canonically been there the longest so logically he would have more points than Charles and BJ.

Like I said, absolutely irrelevant detail, there's hundreds just like it, but it's just a good tiny example of something I like about older tv. It's not about consistency either since Mash is bad with continuity lol, it's just about knowing that the writers are building on a world that exists with or without them, I guess.

An unpopular opinion:

Is there one I haven't already talked about at length? Today I will say:

Hawkeye doesn't have a character arc. He doesn't get more worn down, he doesn't lose his resilience. He has ups and downs throughout from season 1 to 11 and he has a breakdown at the end, not a tangible decline. The seventh episode of the whole show was about Hawkeye and Trapper being extremely burned out, there's no down to go from there. The entire show is one big down for Hawkeye. The change is solely tone, and Hawkeye's the only one this really affects because he's the only character there from start to finish, aside from Margaret who did have an arc.

Hawkeye's biggest breakdowns pre GFA are, imo, Dr Pierce and Mr Hyde, and The Late Captain Pierce, both episodes in the first half of the show, and at the very least anything in later seasons like eg Depressing News is equal rather than worse. If anything it could be argued that he gets a little more of a handle on himself and the situation in the later seasons thanks to being there so long. He certainly has enough of a handle on himself to emotionally support the hell out of everyone else for very little support in return lol, and there are moments when he gives others cautionary advice based on his own hard-earned experience, like when he warns Winchester about insomnia in Dr Winchester Mr Hyde.

Like, basically in the early seasons Hawkeye was miserable in dark comedy, in the later seasons he's miserable in character drama with a side of comedy subplots. There's no devolution there.

my canon OTP:

None. The most a canon romance is to me is neutral.

Non-canon OTP:

Hawkeye/Trapper

most badass character:

Klinger. And I love how the show frames him sometimes along those lines - like Margaret and Hawkeye's "isn't there one man among you?" / "The job's open" exchange when they're being held at gunpoint, followed by Klinger showing up in a dress and disarming dude with his stole in White Gold.

pairing I am not a fan of:

Hawkeye/Mulcahy I'll say. I don't dislike it on principle or anything, I'm happy for the fans and its surge in popularity, but I can't say I'm a fan, because I just can't really suspend my disbelief when it comes to Mulcahy fucking - gay fucking even - without like, having an immense religious crisis. And I don't particularly care to read about a priest having a religious crisis, so idk, doesn't work for me any way I slice it.

character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

Yeah Klinger's a good choice for this, when he became company clerk, when the show has him flip flop on whether he loves the army because all his friends are in it (I can fanwank it away but if I have to do that it means the show fucked up), when they make him the guy who makes stupid mistakes... all a downgrade.

favourite friendship:

Hawk + Margaret. I love them because they're very odd-couple, they would never be friends outside this circumstance and only became friends within the circumstance after years of enmity and change from Margaret. I don't think they'd remain close after the war, and that's part of what I like about their friendship. It feels real, but temporary and very much a friendship of convenience, because Margaret's the only person around Hawkeye can really have certain kinds of emotional talks with.

character I want to adopt or be adopted by:

n/a

ask meme

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

Slow Horses

Fave viewing over the past few years has been SLOW HORSES on AppleTV+. A spy show with all the intrigues of a John le Carré novel, but if George Smiley was written as a sarcastic smart arse and every other spy was a downbeat comedian. 

River Cartwright chased by one of ’The Dogs’.

The show focusses on spies who’ve disgraced themselves, but for various reasons can’t be set free into the wild. We are led into this espionage backwater by an earnest young spy who has become persona non grata with Mi5. His efforts to get back into the slick world of Regent’s Park puts him at the heart of the action in the series. Though he’s from Mi5 royalty (as his grandfather used to head the organisation) he’s banished to a shabby facility called Slough House. 

Lamb uses his signature flatulent power-move on Taverner. 

This kingdom of losers is ruled by Jackson Lamb, hilariously played by Gary Oldman. Famed for being a chameleon, Oldman is clearly having enormous fun here, playing this jaded old cold warrior, who doesn’t care any more. Lamb has let himself go physically, but is still mentally sharp enough to anticipate when he’s being setup. Which is often, and most likely by his Mi5 boss Diana Taverner (played with deadpan ice queen flair by Kristin Scott Thomas). Her disdain for the screwups of Slough House doesn’t stop her from using their services. These ‘Slow Horses’ are ostensibly kept on by ‘the service’ for menial jobs - filing and desk work - but they are sometimes caught up in intrigues too. Simply because Mi5 often needs fall guys.

Shirley & Marcus pinned down by The Tiger Team.

Mi5 is portrayed as a world of grasping political climbers. The higher up the political totem pole, the more damehoods & knighthoods there are. But ruthless sociopaths abound too. More than willing to sacrifice their underlings if it advances their own interests, or covers up a blunder. The traditional baddies of spy stories are here, but rather than the Russians or international terrorists, domestic political dirty dealing is responsible for most of the body count.

Min & Louisa surprise an intruder at Slough House.

For all their flaws, the Slow Horses have more decency than the ‘winners’. They are prickly & snarky characters, that are nevertheless likeable. A fave of mine is Roddy Ho, Slough House’s IT expert. His hilariously pompous dialog is brilliantly played to the smugly annoying hilt by Christopher Chung. Pint-sized firecracker Shirley Dander (Aimee-Ffion Edwards) and wily old school operative Catherine Standish (Saskia Reeves) are a couple of other faves, but honestly, all the characters have their moments. 

Roddy analyses the kidnap photo of Standish. 

The show-runner is standup comedian & writer Will Smith, who manages to deliver laughs aplenty but also real drama. Main characters can die, and probably when you’d just learned to love them. We enjoyed watching this show so much that, after finishing the 3rd season, we RE-watched the entire thing, and were entertained even more the 2nd time. 

Jackson Lamb has an ice cream.

Having just exhausted all the viewing options available, Julia & I just began the book series that the show is based on, by Mick Herron. Though many details differ, the books are remarkably similar to the TV series, tonally. Added background details to the characters & plots make them enjoyable even after seeing the show. Hopefully they will feed us enough Lamb until season 4 drops at the end of 2024.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

More Precious Than Rubies: Part 4b

This is an alternate timeline story that has a Rafael Barba track and a Sonny Carisi track. The two paths split off in part 3.

WC: 3390

TW: Angst; end of relationship drama.

AN: The prompt was "I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!"

Sonny wasn’t sure that there was anything more he could do, but he thought about you all the time.  As a public defender, there was always a good chance that you’d drift through the precinct, your heels clicking on the tiled floor and your jaw set and ready to brawl with Barba.  When it happened, Sonny could only watch in admiration at how relentless you were. 

And if he enjoyed the way your various twill or Italian wool skirts fit you like a glove, no one needed to know about that other than god and the priest who heard his confession.

He didn’t have anyone to talk to, really.  Amanda was a lost cause, too wrapped up in her own issues.  And Sonny wondered if she’d ever really loved anyone or been in a real relationship.  She seemed to go through men – no shame – but there was no common ground between that and a committed relationship.

The best support he had was Bella and, god help him, her fiancée Tommy.  Sonny had never been much of a fan of Tommy’s, but the man had gotten his life in order after a stint in jail for drug charges.  He worked hard and loved Bella, which was the best Sonny could hope for his sister.  And now that she was pregnant, he hoped it would be enough.

Sonny went over to the couple’s place one Saturday night to cook for them.  Tommy was a lost cause in the kitchen, and Bella was well into the third trimester – complete with swollen feet and a ravenous appetite for their ma’s chicken marsala recipe.  Sonny was only too happy to oblige.

After dinner (said chicken marsala, a mixed green salad, and crusty rolls – all wolfed down by Bella with an appetite that made Sonny smile), the trio sat in the tiny living room and sipped the rest of the red wine that Sonny had brought.  Bella helped herself to half a glass; Sonny had objected, but Bella had given him an earful about how her doctor said that half a glass of red had heart benefits that outweighed the negligible potential bad side effects, and furthermore, if he was such a fucking expert on pregnancy, he was more than welcome to carry the future Baby Sullivan for the next month and a half.  Sonny had looked to Tommy for support halfway through her tirade, but the man wisely averted his eyes and carefully studied the label of the wine bottle until Bella was spent.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, then Sonny’s younger sister asked, as if she hadn’t just yelled at him, how Sonny was doing.  Just like when they were kids:  screaming and pinching each other one minute, friends the next.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but Bella saw right through it.

“Liar.  You look tired.  You sleeping?”

Sonny shrugged.  “Usually.  Some of the stuff I see at work makes it hard.”

Tommy made a sympathetic noise – he had been assaulted repeatedly by his own parole officer and was in therapy as a result, so he knew at least a taste of what SVU dealt with.

“You need someone to go home to,” Bella declared with authority. 

Sonny winced and tried to hide it behind a sip of wine, but his sister caught it. 

“You seeing anyone?” she asked.  “It’s been a while since you got dumped.”

He ducked his head and considered not telling Bella about your recent reappearance in his life but decided to go ahead and tell her.  She’d find out anyway, and maybe she could offer some insight from the female perspective.  When you’d broken up with him over a year ago, Sonny had leaned heavily on his younger sister, crying to her about the loss of you.

So he told her all the news:  how you marched into the precinct one day as a public defender, how you went to lunch with him and accused him of emotionally cheating with Amanda, how you made polite small talk with him and sometimes looked sad when you saw him.  How he didn’t know what to do now.

“She probably still has my number blocked,” he finished.  “And I doubt she’ll go to another lunch with me.  I see her all the time now but can’t get through to her.  I wish…I wish I could just let her know how I really feel.”  He sighed and scrubbed his hands down across his face.  “I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!”

Tommy made that sympathetic clucking again, and Bella looked sad too.  You had only met Sonny’s entire family once, but you’d spent time with Bella a handful of times after the two of you clicked instantly.  Sonny had pictured a future where the two of you were married, and Bella and Tommy were married, and your respective children could grow up together, cousins as close as siblings. 

“Well, if you can’t talk to her or call her, you could always write her a letter,” Tommy offered.  He rarely spoke up at Carisi gatherings, and both Sonny and Bella looked at him in surprise.  Tommy shrugged.  “You know, at least you can get your feelings out on paper.  You don’t have to send the letter.  But if you do….” He trailed off, uncomfortable.

Bella cocked her head at her fiancée.  “That’s actually a good idea,” she said, and Tommy beamed.  They both turned and looked at Sonny expectantly.

“Maybe,” he conceded. 

“C’mon,” Bella wheedled.  She punched him lightly in the arm.  “Girls love romantic gestures like that.  And who writes love letters anymore?”

“Maybe,” he repeated, but he was already composing the opening lines.

-----

He typed out all of the drafts on his personal laptop, revising and rewriting and sometimes deleting and starting over entirely.  It took him a week to get a final version ready.

He thought about Bella’s line about romantic gestures and stopped at a stationary store.  He bought some nice, heavy paper edged in a dark blue that reminded him of the sweater you were wearing when he first met you.  He bought a nice pen too, and then he got to work.

If you hadn’t gone to that lunch with him and opened up a bit about where you had been when you broke up with him, Sonny would never even consider writing you a letter.  But you had, and it had given him a slender bit of hope that you’d be open to hearing more from him.

It took a few tries.  His cursive was out of practice, and the first few attempts resulted in misspellings and ink blots.  He kept writing it out until it was perfect though, even if his hand was cramped and aching from writing so much.  Bella was right – who wrote love letters anymore?  If he couldn’t give you anything else, he could at least give you one, perfect love letter.  You deserved that much, at least.

*******

You were feeling great – you had spent the morning at a sexual cybercrimes conference.  You had seen Barba, implied that his coworker O’Dwyer was smarter than him, and then delighted at how offended he looked.  Of all the ADAs you had to deal with on a regular basis, Barba was your favorite to wind up.  You practically skipped back to your office, where a mountain of new cases waited for you.

You shut the door to your office and shed your suit jacket in the airless little room.  You kicked off your heels and slipped into a pair of sandals and settled into your chair. 

You started with the interoffice mail:  standard memos and policy changes and an updated public defender contact list.  There was a retirement card being passed around for an older paralegal who was ready to hang it all up and move to Boca Raton. 

You moved on to your regular mail.  There was the usual junk that slipped past your admin.  A plea for a donation from Fordham.  Some letters from past clients. 

At the bottom of the stack was a manila envelope with your name printed carefully across the front.  No return address – another client, probably.  You opened it and slid out another envelope of heavy, creamy paper.  Your name was written across the face in familiar handwriting.  Your stomach dipped when you recognized it.  Sonny.

You thought about tearing it open then and there, but you got a call to go to the 5th precinct, so you tucked it into your satchel.  It was probably safer to read it at home anyway.

-----

The letter sat in your bag like unexploded ordinance, but you got through the day.  You rushed home, skipped dinner, and poured yourself a tumbler of wine to the brim.  You settled onto your couch, took a deep breath, and opened the letter. 

The paper was heavy stock and gorgeous.  The handwriting was careful – nicer than Sonny’s usual scrawled signature or block printed notes from college.  He’d obviously put time and thought into whatever he wanted to say.  So you took another breath, took a few deep swallows of wine, and read it.  It said:

You probably think that we first met when we both went bowling with our mutual friends, but that wasn’t the first time I’d ever seen you.  The first time I saw you, we were in the same class a semester earlier – Investigative Criminal Procedures.  It was a huge lecture hall, and you always sat about five rows ahead of me.  Of course I noticed you, because you are beautiful, but it was a fight you had with the professor that made me realize how much of that beauty came from deep within you.  Maybe you remember?  Professor Graham had some controversial thoughts about search and seizure, and you shot your hand up, didn’t bother to wait for him to call on you, and then you launched into an impassioned tirade that tore every one of his points apart.

My first thought after that class was that if I ever was in trouble with the law, I was going to hire you as my lawyer.  My second thought was that I was certain that I loved you.

When I finally met you that night at bowling, you see, I already was in love with you.  And you were so friendly and happy, laughing at your own terrible score – I only fell harder.  When I went home that night, I made a vow that I’d make you mine, and for a blessed while, I had.  But I lost my way, and I lost you in the process.

I don’t want to dwell on what I did wrong because I replay it every day of my life.  I just want you to know that I regret, every day, how I neglected you.  How I took you for granted.  How I assumed that you’d wait around for me to get my act together.  How I didn’t put you first or make you feel how special you are to me.  I’ll always regret how I failed you.

But I want to say all the things now that I should have told you when we were together. 

You are, as I said, beautiful, both inside and out.  You always manage to make my heart stop every time I see you, whether you’re in your work suits or in your comfortable pajamas.

You have so many amazing things going for you.  You’re easily the smartest person I know, and you have both book smarts and common sense.  You’re always able to get to the easiest solution to a problem.  You’re abilities in the courtroom as a public defender just proves this.

You have an amazing sense of humor.  You always seem to be able to find the humor in the situation, and you always made me laugh.  And you manage to tease people in a way that builds them up and doesn’t tear them down.  It’s a gift.

You have an amazing heart.  You always show care for your clients, and before that, care for your friends, for me, and even for the strangers who cross your path.  You never seem to judge – you give the homeless man money with the same love you give to your friends when they need you.  I love that about you.  You don’t make people work for your love:  you just give it freely, even when they don’t deserve it.  You certainly gave it to me far longer than I deserved it.

If I had to describe you in a single word, it’d be “rock.”  You were always my steady foundation, my touchstone for when things seemed too hard.  You supported me when I wanted to give up on law school.  You supported me when the NYPD was moving me from precinct to precinct and I wanted to give up on being a detective.  You saw me at my worst moments and kept me grounded and gave me hope.  Sometimes I felt my faith failing me, but I never stopped believing in you.  And no matter what happens, I never will.  

More than anything, I want to you know – really know – that I loved you then and I love you still.  I know why you probably won’t believe that, but it is true.  I know I didn’t give you enough proof of that fact, and I regret it.  I know that you think there was another woman with a place in my heart, but that wasn’t the case and still isn’t the case.  How could there be room for anyone else there, when you took it so utterly and completely?  And when you have it still?

I hope this letter did not upset you.  It was not my intention if it did.  These are all things I should have said a long time ago, when I still had you, and it’s no one’s fault but my own that I have to write them down and send them to you now. 

If nothing else, I want you to know that I loved you completely then, that I love you completely now, and for the rest of my life, I’ll love you just as much.  And as such, I want you to be happy, no matter what that looks like. 

It was signed, “love always, Sonny.”  But you could barely read it through the tears streaming down your face.

You probably read it twelve more times before you went to bed, and since you were unable to sleep, you read it twelve times more.

-----

You saw Sonny across the courtroom a week later, but he just nodded at you and gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his bright blue eyes.  You nodded back and smiled. 

You were working on your own response, in letter form to keep it true to his own letter.  You approached it a lot like your law work – you wrote out an outline and built it from there.

It took you a few weeks to craft the perfect response, and you carried it in your bag for another week.  You didn’t want to mail it to him.  You figured, after the way you’d dumped him, you owed him a hand-delivered letter.  It was the least you could do, especially after he made the ballsy move of even reaching out at all.  And you had to admit that there was something romantic about getting a love letter.  It was a stark contrast to your last attempt at dating, when a guy you’d gone on a first date with texted you a week later with an unimpressive dick pic.

Then you got a call about a client in the 16th who was arrested and about to face arraignment in a day.  You checked your bag and made sure the letter was there.  If you saw Sonny, you vowed to hand it to him then and there.

********

Sonny was tortured by that stupid letter.  You never responded.  He knew deep-down that you might ignore it, but he had some stubborn hope that you’d reach out to him.  He had a stupid, recurring fantasy where you rushed over to his apartment in the middle of the night after reading his letter, tearfully admitting that you still loved him too. 

He saw you once in court, and you nodded at him in greeting but didn’t say anything.  He resigned himself to finally admitting that it was over.  But at least you knew how he felt.  Maybe it gave you some comfort or closure.

-----

It was another grey day in Manhattan.  Well, it was July and sunny, but Sonny didn’t feel particularly up to his nickname.  Amanda was just starting to show in her surprise pregnancy, and she was an irritable, nauseous mess.  Fin and Liv had collared a potential serial date rapist who was preying on Hudson University students, and he sat in the interrogation room after asking for a lawyer.

The elevator dinged, and Sonny heard the familiar click of heels.  He felt his stomach drop while his heart soared, an uncomfortable feeling.  The feeling of possibility that would probably just disappoint him.

You breezed past him and Amanda and strode into the interrogation room where Barba was waiting.  Sonny heard first some low voices, then louder ones as you and Barba got warmed up and then traded snappy retorts as you tried to find a compromise.  Everyone, including Sonny, knew how to read the situation now:  if you marched out with your head tilted and Barba strolled out scowling, it was no deal.  If you marched out with a smile and Barba strolled out scowling, there was a deal.

Today?  You marched out with your head tilted in defiance, and Barba fell in step with you for a few strides, trying to salvage some deal.  Sonny smiled to see it.  Barba never seemed flustered by anything, but you had a way of making the ADA seem rattled.  You just shook your head at him….until your eyes fell on Sonny.

You started to smile, but your eyes slid over to Amanda and Sonny saw it all in slow motion.  He saw your smile falter as you took in his partner’s pregnant belly, and he saw you make a giant assumption about who made it that way. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and he watched you practically sprint out of the bullpen.  Barba, for his part, looked confused and started to follow but stopped.  Sonny went after you and nearly caught up thanks to his long legs, and even though you kept jamming the elevator button, he managed to get his hand in and stop the doors.

He called your name, but you shot him an angry look through tears that were welling in your eyes.

“Let go of the door,” you said through gritted teeth.  Your voice had a shaky quality as you fought the urge to cry.  “Just let me go.”

“No,” he replied.  “I know what you’re thinking….”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” you retorted.  You punched the button on the elevator a few more times for good measure, then you reached into your bag.  “I’m thinking that I’m a fucking idiot.  That’s what I’m thinking.”

“It’s not like that,” he pleaded, and he felt his own eyes fill with tears.  You were so distressed; he just wanted to reach out and hold you, but when he extended a hand, you visibly flinched from it.

“I don’t care what it’s like!” you wailed, and you pulled a folded piece of paper – no, pieces of paper – out of your bag.  You tore them in half, and then again and again and again until you couldn’t tear anymore.  Then you threw them at him, and Sonny realized that the confetti was your reply to him.  Or had been.  He knelt to pick up the pieces of torn paper, and the elevator, finally released, closed its doors and carried you out of the building.

He couldn’t chase after you.  You were too hurt by what you saw – or thought you’d seen – and he was on such thin ice anyway.  All he could do was gather up the tiny pieces of paper from the dirty precinct floor.

And take them back to his desk.  And start to put them back together.

[starfall-spirit]

Day 3: Sunshine

Summary: Elain enjoys a picnic with Lucien, pondering the future they'll share in Day.

AN: This event is my first time posting Elucien. Naturally, I ask you to be polite in your feedback.

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 658

CW: None

He was far too handsome for his own good. Elain was all too aware he knew that as he lounged on the thin blanket spread out beneath them, a glint of golden sun catching in the red of his hair as the mid-summer breeze ruffle the strands that weren't pinned beneath his shoulders. "I can feel you staring, mate."

He smirked slightly as she settled on her elbow beside him, his eyes still closed against the light peaking through the leaves swaying above them. "Sometimes I wonder when I'm going to wake up."

Lucien peeled his eyes open, rolling onto his side to mirror his mate. "What do you mean, love?"

She fiddled with a fallen leaf. "Things have always been... For years and years, it's been one danger or drama or expectation after the next. And now..."

Now she was happy. Her future was bright, unrestrained by conflict or social expectations. She had the leisure to build a real relationship with her sisters even as she no longer depended on them so entirely. She had the freedom to build a life of her own with the male she loved with her whole heart. To spend the rest of her long, long life in his arms, content to lie beneath the sun day after day with only the sounds of bright laughter and music and unadulterated joy around them.

That's not to say the Day Court was flawless. Every person and place had their faults. But it was a far cry from the first few years she spent in Prythian, one court as cold as the next as they tried to piece together a war-cleaved continent. She hadn't bore the brunt of it and she'd never try to claim she had. But it had still been an exhausting few years.

Middle sister.

Mediator.

Gentle and good and kind and perfect.

Breaking away was the most terrifying and exhilarating thing she had ever done, to be frank. And it had brought her here, out of the box she had been pushed into as a girl and into a whole new way of seeing the world.

"Now I'm free of it all and waiting for reality to set in. For some conflict or conundrum to shatter this dreamscape." Her mate hummed, an arm curling around her waist so she was forced to shift with him when he rolled onto his back again. Contentment shuttered down the thread between them as she buried her face in his chest, letting their legs tangle around one another. Full from their picnic with the warmth of the high sun around them it would be all too easy to drift to sleep there, she knew. Another little element of this utopia of theirs. "It all feels too perfect to last."

His fingers tangled in her unbound hair, stroking from her scalp to the curled ends before repeating the motion. "I've never taken kindly to good fortune either," he murmured. "At least, not until you came along. It was far too fleeting to trust. But with the war behind us, the courts near peace, our bond officiated, here with my true family and you at my side... I'm willing to risk it."

"Can you promise me this is forever?"

He smiled, kissing her hair. "No, my love. But I can promise it's the beginning of a brilliance to bloom. And I'll push Lady Luck as long as I'm able if that means we'll have our happily ever after."

"Promise?"

"By the sun above us," he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth. "By the moon to rise." Another kiss fell under her jaw before he raised his head again, lips just inches from her own. "Every star that falls or burns for us night after night. By the very bond between us, I swear with all I am, Elain, we'll have a lifetime of joy and light."

And as his lips finally found hers, she believed.

~~~~~

General/Elucien taglist:

@elucienweekofficial // @goddess-aelin // @acotar-fanns // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiyawhitethorn // @vulpes-fennec // @headcanonheadcase // @aldbooks // @panicatthenightcourt // @corcracrow // @jennity-blog

[joyouslee]

MLC fic ramble - 《只今》 by

应该没人认出来

ok, since lofter has locked down all posts to people with accounts, I can't do full recs for anything on lofter anymore (i.e., I can't re-read so I can't give specific warnings), so instead I'm just going to ramble about the fics I love and if you are able to access lofter read at your own risk since this is just rambling based on my memory. Keep in mind my general warnings.

The author's summary of the fic is: a fic about what's more painful, losing the person you love or losing their love.

FDB goes back in time and becomes the young master of Wanshengdao in order to save LLH.

Here's the link to the first chapter, but now it just redirects to the login unless you have an account. (*weeps*) Go read if you can!

My spoilery ramblings under the read more:

This fic is AGONIZING. Oh the angst in this! The premise is all knives and the execution was sharp. In the original timeline LLH and FDB were lovers then LLH gives up the Wangchuan flower and leaves as in the drama. LLH dies and FDB buried him. FDB dies (later it's revealed how and it's heartbreaking) and wakes up back at Wanshengdao and this time he knows that LLH isn't going to eat the Wangchuan flower. SO he tells SGD he'll help him in exchange for the flower, and he ends up giving SGD the mother bug, and LLH is aware of the betrayal. He ends up imprisoning LLH so that he can cure him, but Qin Po dies in the process.

LLH escapes. (I can't remember the exact details but it was something like FDB marries LLH - I think SGD intends for it to be a humiliation for LLH - and lets him escape during the ceremony preparations.)

By the time LLH leads a rebellion back it's a couple of years later. He finds FDB blind and imprisoned in the Ji Le tower, dying from having the mother bug implanted in him.

The rest of the story deals with LLH's anger at FDB for what he did in order to save him (and from LLH's pov he doesn't understand why FDB would go to such extremes, since he doesn't know FDB has already experienced his death and knows he won't eat the flower), and LLH's gradual uncovering of the things that FDB did in order to try to save as many people as possible from SGD.

It also deals with FDB's guilt - his decision lead to Qin Po's death, and he also ends up killing government officials (I forget the details but it was later revealed to have been set up by SGD) as part of SGD's coup. So after his rescue he's tormented by his guilt and is very submissive to LLH. FDB thinks LLH hates him and thinks he deserves the hate (from LLH and from all the people he knows - people are calling for his head because he's SGD's son). LLH's angry about FDB's abasement and the way he's subsumed by his guilt and atonement, and is very conflicted because he loves him but also hates what he did.

Finally it deals with the inequality of their position and how that affects their relationship (e.g., FDB's reliance on LLH for his life/ protection, his inability to draw any boundaries because he feels he deserves punishment as well as because he thinks his own judgment is bad).

I love this because it's ultimately about atonement and forgiveness, and about how to live again after something so devastating. The amount of guilt FDB carries and how he works to atone for it - he is a good person who made an awful mistake, and he is trying so hard to make up for it. I loved seeing him slowly understand that sometimes there's no way to pay it back to the person hurt so he can only live and pay back the universe.

There's also a bit of political plotting and FDB gets to break XZJ's sword (yay!). This is huafang but DFS has a strong role as friend to both of them (and has comments about the dogfood he suffers through). So it's not just all angst.

A few warnings for the things I remember: there's an attempted rape (not explicit/ not between huafang), and power dynamics issues because of the imprisoning (both of LLH in the beginning and later FDB) and my recollection was that they were having sex through those time periods so no one was at his best. There also is some issues about dressing up as the wife in the weddings (i.e., SGD intended to humiliate LLH by it, and then later FDB reluctantly wears a woman's outfit when he marries LLH). Again, read at your own risk since this is just the stuff I remember.

[fangirl-erdariel]

If you were given the job of 'showrunner of a show about Faramir' what would you do?

Oh that's a fascinating question, thank you! I will freely admit that I don't necessarily consider myself the most knowledgeable person about Faramir or the best at writing him even in my immediate fandom circle, so this is unlikely to be anything particularly groundbreaking or interesting, but I'll give it a shot

I think, since you've not given me specific limitations on when in the timeline this will be set, and that I would go for a show that focuses on Faramir in the months leading up to Boromir leaving for Rivendell, ending with that event. Not that a show about him in the times after the War of the Ring wouldn't be fascinating, but I don't think it's something I'd be very good at writing. And I'm not necessarily interested in following the story through the events of LOTR, either. So, like I said, following Faramir in the times leading up to the event that basically ties him and Boromir so tightly into the events of the story.

Wouldn't be a very long show, obviously, with that sort of time frame, but I'm a firm believer in deciding on the limits of the story you want to tell and narrowing it down to something you can manage, before starting to tell it. (Let's ignore the fact that I don't actually do that irl when I write fanfic, I just sit down and write and see what happens; the imaginary me who is a showrunner of a tv show is obviously more organized than the real life me anyway.) Not everything needs to be ten seasons long. And you could still get a full-length season or two out of even that premise, I think.

I would probably go for a somewhat episodic problem-of-the-week format, but with some overarching themes and plotlines developing across the whole show. I can't off the top of my head give you a list of episodes or their synopsis (how do you pluralize that? synopsis? synopses? synopsises? why is English so difficult), but, you know, most episodes probably focusing on the various troubles of leading the soldiers in Ithilien, one episode focused on the planning of an attack on an enemy troop that will be moving through, another of "how the f*ck has the enemy been managing to constantly mess with our supply lines that we thought were secure and how do we stop them from doing that", maybe one of the classic "there's a spy among our midst but who is it??" plot, one where Faramir has to handle a bunch of young inexperienced soldiers who are either uncertain or too reckless and eager to pursue glory and probably going to get either themselves or other people killed if he can't get them to get their act together. And so on and so forth, I'm sure you get the gist. Probably mix it up sometimes and have some episodes set in Minas Tirith, maybe a couple bringing Faramir on some errand to more southern parts of Gondor, too. Ithilien episodes would probably have elements of military drama, Minas Tirith episodes elements of political drama.

I think the second-to-last episode of the show would have the first time Faramir has the dream that'll send Boromir to Gondor, and would have the attack on Osgiliath and that whole thing. And the absolute last episode would be just focused on the dream and what to do about it, and would see Boromir leaving on his journey.

I think one thing I'd explore a lot would be the differing ways that other characters see him. Both in terms of the relationships with his family, the way that he is a beloved little brother to Boromir but always the less capable and worthy in Denethor's eyes, but also in terms of outside that family circle. Like, we see in the books that he is adored by the people, and that he is greatly respected by the soldiers under his command, he is a captain they are glad to follow, a skilled leader who is able to keep troops from panicking and retain good order even in difficult, chaotic situations.

And then, going off of that, how does all that compare to the way Faramir sees himself? How does the place he is appointed by those around him fit, or not fit, what he himself would want to be, if he could choose? Even people who love or admire you can still view you in ways that aren't entirely true, or treat you in a way or put you in situations that you find constraining or poorly fit for you, and I think playing with that with Faramir could be interesting. I think I might go for making one of the conflicts carried through the show be that while Boromir loves Faramir, he doesn't always quite treat him as a responsible adult and an equal, but a little brother to be protected and watched over and helped, and for all that Faramir also loves Boromir, it's still frustrating. And though Boromir does insist on being the one to make the journey to Rivendell because he's older and stronger and doesn't like the idea of Faramir going off alone on a long journey to the unknown, it is still in some ways also an admission on his part that he trusts Faramir to be responsible and clever and capable enough to be in charge of the lives of soldiers and of various duties Boromir has that will fall on Faramir in his absence, without Boromir's constant oversight and being always somewhere near enough to come to his aid.

Besides that, I think I would like to incorporate hope and despair as one central theme, seeing as it's also so very central to LOTR. Also, this isn't anything about deep themes or being clever or whatever, it's really just self-indulgence, but I think I'd like to incorporate songs and poetry the characters actually sing and recite into the story. Just, like, whatever, military marches, funeral laments, narrative stuff sung to pass the time, people competing on who can most accurately memorize some tricky poem just for the hell of it, all that. Like, Middle-Earth just has music so intrinsically bound into the stories and it's an aspect of the books I really love, but so few adaptations incorporate it much at all! (I am tooootally not jealous to my mom because she got to see the 1988/-89 LOTR play that actually included a bunch of the poems from the books set to music, totally not, why are you asking)

Also, can we cast Luke Pasqualino as Faramir? No particular reason except that I think he's pretty

Geez, that got long ':D Idk how much sense any of that makes, but, hey, thanks for giving me an excuse to ramble!!

Out of curiosity, if you were given the same job of being a showrunner for a show about Faramir, what would you do with it?

[concerningwolves]

today's disconnected but related Thoughts are about how stories should exist within "containers", and how problems in long-running TV series are typically introduced when the writers don't use those containers properly. I'm struggling to articulate it in a coherent order, but:

● an audience needs to be able to see some kind of boundary enclosing the story, otherwise it doesn't feel satisfying. This is why we have set plot structures like Freytag's Pyramid and Fichtean Curve which so many stories follow. Most storytelling formats lend themselves to this – novels, certain comic books and graphic novels, plays, and films all have a beginning and an end. You open the book or enter a theatre or switch on the telly, and you experience the story, and then it ends. The story might live with you afterwards, if it affected or resonated with you or made you want to analyse it, but if the creator did their job well you'll at least feel closure with it on a mechanical level (i.e., plot and character arcs have conclusions that you can see fit within the framework of the story, even if personally you didn't like or agree with something). The Good Place is an example of a TV series that did this very well, because the writers had a set vision for the series and they executed it.

● A lot of TV dramas and serials operate on the premise of being ongoing – a story that stretches on without any defined end in sight. This can be done well, but sometimes the story gets bloated and stale, or it ends up like separate swatches of cloth instead of an interwoven tapestry. I'm not saying this means every TV series automatically fails to tell a story in a satisfying way, or even that the series that don't are inherently bad. It works differently from books or films, and therein lie its strengths as a storytelling medium! For one thing, TV is excellent for character-focused stories, and these can go on and on for ages and still be enjoyable and entertaining (even if not "good" by critical artistic standards). There's also more flexibility in TV than in a film; the ongoing format lets writers string out rising and falling tension, and focus in and out on different plots/subplots across a far larger scope.

● The way these shows work is the overarching medium of the series contains smaller stories in the form of plots. The boundaries between one plot and the next usually need to be permeable, too – a plot arc should conclude satisfactorily, yes, but the things that happen in it ought to resonate with the larger narrative afterwards, otherwise it'll feel pointless to the audience. Ghost Whisperer is an example where the creators failed to do this, repeatedly: each of the five seasons introduces a new concept which seems to be building towards some kind of climax, and then... doesn't. Characters vanish from the story never to be mentioned again. Huge events that ought to have life-altering consequences for the characters only have consequences for a few episodes, and then it's swept under the rug. The series had its appeal in a fun concept and lovable characters, but was let down by the execution. By contrast, medical drama Grey's Anatomy has been going successfully since 2005. It has some continuity issues (like interns vanishing without explanation) and some plots are better than others, but on the whole it takes its status as a long-running story seriously and does it quite well.

● The streaming model and the way TV writers are treated is a factor, too. Even where the boundaries of a story have been pre-defined and could be executed well, the creators often don't have the chance. (and I'm sure the same is true of long-running manga/comic books/graphic novels, although I'm focusing mostly on TV here). Ratings, network politics and actors' personal lives/ambitions have a huge impact on what happens to a TV series, and the popularity or apparent success of a series doesn't always guarantee its continuation. Just look at Netflix's habit of axing series after 2 seasons! Or at Good Omens, which despite being written by Neil Gaiman, having a huge fanbase, and a pre-set story which would be concluded in three seasons, hasn't yet been officially greenlit for season 3 (afaik). The industry has created an environment where stories are commodified, and that's not an environment in which stories can flourish.