#she’s the first grandparent/close relative I’ve lost in my life

[tartagliove]

My grandmother passed away today. I know she’s at peace and is no longer in pain, which I’m so grateful for, but I’m also extremely sad. I’ll be gone for the next few days to process and grieve and not fall apart at work.

[sleeperswakewriting]

A humble fic request; in which Petra convinced herself that Levi only regards her as a baby maker. We need emotional & conflicted rivetra 🥺

Dude, I have a whole Handmaids Tale AU drafted which is going to be this theme. But until then, have this drabble of Petra being a surrogate mom and Levi is a 40 year old finance man!

Rated: T

Word Count: 1.6k

“Do you need anything else?”

Levi propped Petra’s head up with another pillow while she giggled. “I’m good. Thank you, Levi.” She rubbed her swollen eight-month stomach and gently patted it. “Your dad is going to be a helicopter parent, I just know it.”

Levi pouted and took away her bed tray. “Am not. I’m just making sure the mother of my child is comfortable. Daisy will thank me later,” and he leaned over to kiss Petra’s stomach, whispering only to his daughter, “Won’t you?”

Petra’s heart welled, trying to temper the misplaced affection she garnered. He wasn’t speaking lovingly to her but to his daughter. Not Petra’s. That agreement was settled before they even conceived via a fertility clinic.

Down on her luck, Petra was desperate to pay for her college tuition after her father lost her job. She combed through everything: bartending, waitressing, dropping down to part-time, but nothing would even come close to the thousands of dollars she would need. She could drop out, get a job, and then return to school, but she knew the statistics. People rarely returned after they left, and she was determined to finish school and help her dad from going under.

So, she did what any twenty-something year old would do, desperate for cash—she searched the internet. She could donate her eggs, but that would only barely cover what she needed, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready to have several little Petras running around without her knowledge. Her genes were good as far as she knew, and no glaring medical issues from her mother or father’s side. Her mother died early from a car accident, but her maternal grandparents were fit as they could be at their age.

When she found a thread on becoming a surrogate mother, Petra nervously clicked on the website and began to read testimonies. Good, bad, downright horrific, she came out on the other side with an array of opinions and a choice. There was an agency right down the road from her school, and she told herself that she would only stop by for a consult to see if she would be a good fit. All she wanted was information.

Then she ran into Levi Ackerman in the waiting room.

Forty years old, he was every girl’s sugar daddy dream from his peppered gray hair and well-tailored suit. She caught him grumbling about all the paperwork and she made a joke if he was trying to have a baby, he was going to have to fill out a lot more.

He laughed and asked her if she was a current surrogate. Tongue-tied, she said she was still thinking about it.

“Why don’t we skip all this bullshit paperwork and have a drink?”

She assumed he meant he wanted to sleep with her and she heartily accepted. As luck would have it, he wasn’t a sleazy man trying to take advantage of a young woman, and he was completely serious about using her as a surrogate, without the trouble of a third party. He had a private lawyer to handle all the legal and financial matters, but he said he would be more comfortable knowing the mother of his child.

“I’d like to attend all the doctor’s appointments too.”

What could a single, 40-year-old man want with a baby, Petra wondered, and she asked him on their first “date.”

“I’m lonely. Love never worked out for me and I’ve always wanted children. I want at least one before I get too old to take care of it. I have a fortune that I want my own blood to inherit, I don’t have any relatives. You get to an age where you start to think about future generations, and I’m tired of waiting for the right one.”

That was enough for Petra to agree after he told her the amount he was offering. It would be more than enough for the rest of her college tuition and it would cover her living expenses until she obtained a full-time job.

What turned into a financial arrangement blossomed into the most wonderful eight months of Petra’s life. The insemination felt like a regular pap-smear, and since they were tracking her ovulation, within two weeks, they were pregnant.

Levi was overjoyed and treated her to dinner, discussing all the names he had in mind.

“What do you think of the name Daisy?” he asked on a trip back from the doctor’s. He held a coffee in his hand and Petra mirrored him, except hers was decaf.

She forced a laugh, though it pained her to imagine a different time and place where her opinion would be taken into consideration.“It’s your child, Levi!” she chided, giving him a playful bump with her hip.

“I don’t want you to hate it.”

She could never hate anything that came from him.

Part of the agreement was that she wasn’t allowed to date while carrying his child and Petra didn’t mind in the slightest. Levi took one look at her one-bedroom college dorm and demanded she move in with him until the baby was born, and then as long as she wanted to breastfeed. Even though he had preferences, citing the latest research, he understood it was unrealistic to take up nearly a year of Petra’s life.

She also didn’t want to get too attached to him or the baby, but from the moment she saw the first ultrasound, she cried. Levi held her hand, his eyes dancing on the screen and not on her, and she wished he would look at her like that.

Through their interactions, she learned he was a kind, though odd, man. He kept to himself most nights, preferring to read in the evenings after his busy job in finance. Why finance? She asked him, interested since she was studying accounting. Makes good money, it’s boring as shit though. His reply sent butterflies down her stomach; she didn’t realize she enjoyed dry humor so much until she met Levi. His mannerisms were a delight in themselves, and the effortlessly cool persona he embodied was sexy as hell.

“That’s why I want a kid. There’s more to life than work.”

Somewhere along the way, she fell in love. It was in tender moments when he’d rub her back when her stomach ached from the weight of their, no, his daughter. Or when held her hair when she had morning sickness, she quickly learned how much he hated messes from his immaculate living space.

The worst part was when he unveiled the nursery. Levi lived alone in a three-bedroom house, and she knew he was making renovations in preparation for the baby. Between the paint fumes and sawdust, she generally kept away from that part of the house since she made herself comfortable in the large room he outfitted her.

“Close your eyes,” Levi said, placing his hands over her face. Petra laughed, reminding him again that this wasn’t for her.

“I want her to feel your excitement.”

So she acquiesced with a heaviness in her soul and when Levi revealed the room, she cried.

“Blame it on the hormones,” she said, wiping away her tears. A field of daisies was painted along the walls and a decadent crib sat on one side of the wall. By the window sat a mahogany rocking chair with a cushion, and Petra imagined herself nursing. She would coo while Levi looked at the greatest loves of his life.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” He asked excitedly. He began to move throughout the room and the utterly happy expression on his face urged Petra to reach out.

“I got a mobile to match the room, but maybe she’d like animals instead?”

“Do you think this elephant looks constipated?”

“Maybe I should get a darker shade of pink—wouldn’t want vomit stains.”

Petra knew his affection was nothing more than friendship. While she insisted that she didn’t want or needed to be a part of their lives, Levi offered to send her pictures as their daughter grew older. She was still undecided, after all, this was supposed to be a pit stop in her life. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the man whose baby she was carrying. This was a financial transaction.

And yet, seated on Levi’s couch, with her head pillowed in his lap while he rubbed her stomach as she bemoaned of muscle aches, Petra allowed herself to dream as she breathed in his musky cologne.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and a white shirt, a sight that she reveled in since he rarely deviated from his well-dressed attire. With his hair freshly washed and a five o’clock shadow set in, she imagined him rubbing his chin along her bare skin as he kissed her. She would love to be ruined by him, but with her state, he would take his time, worshipping her body. He’d whisper how lucky he was to have found her—the perfect mother to his child and woman of his dreams. With her swollen belly, she’d have to be taken from behind, but she wouldn’t care, just as long as he loved her.

That’s all she wanted.

Turning her head so that her face fell into his lap, Levi threaded long fingers through her hair while he turned the volume down on the TV.

“Time for bed?”

Petra shook her head, pretending to yawn but allowed a bleary smile to weave between her lips. “Just a little while longer. I’m comfy.”

His deep laugh sent longing down her spine.

“Sure,” and he rubbed another circle into her stomach, “whatever you need.” And he moved to raise the volume, not seeking idle chatter between them.

Petra moved to face him and played with the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

One more month and this would all be over.

She was going to savor every last moment, even if it broke her.

[fandomscombine]

The Boyfriend Introduction

George Weasley x Reader

This is an entry for @wonderful-writer​ ‘s Ficmas Writing Challenge 

Prompts: “Exactly how many people did you invite over for Christmas dinner?”

Tropes No.6. There’s only one bed

Trope No.8. Snowed in

BG: Will George make a good first impression on your strict parents over Christmas Dinner? What happens when prying muggle relatives are added to the mix? No magic is allowed, and a heavy snowstorm trapped everyone inside. What was supposed to last a couple of hours had stretched overnight. Will your family approve of George? Or will he be trapped with people who dislike him for the night?

A/N: This took almost a month to write. Started this with my writing motivation streak on high. Then the burnout came, I could write nor even read. Now I’m slowly trying to get back into the mood. Yea I realized that it’s not super Christmasy. But I hope that you enjoy it all the same.

WC:3352

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

‘Okay, you remember everything?’ You had just finish debriefing George on the what to expect when you arrive home later. What your parents likes and dislikes, what the home dynamic is, etcetera, brownie points to note to make sure he lands on your parent’s good side-you want your boyfriend’s first impression to be perfect!

‘Yes love, EVERYTHING. We’ve gone over this 3 times already, trust me it’s all up here’ George said, tapping a finger against his temple. ‘At this rate, I am more scared for them as it would be a total stranger knew everything about them!’ He pointed out.

‘Hey, you’re not a total stranger, they’ve met you before!’ You countered.

‘For only a couple of minutes, plus Fred was with us that time, I doubt they could have differentiated between us from that short time alone.’

Recalling back to the end of the summer holidays when your family had bumped into the Weasleys and Harry while school supplies shopping at Diagon Alley. You were just leaving of Flourish and Blotts while they were headed in. You had dropped your brand-new books and the twins had helped you pick them up. You had exchanged a quick thank you before hurried leaving to catch the bus back to muggle London.

Your parents had gratefully allowed you to spend the holidays at The Burrow, but only after they had met the boyfriend who you could never stop talking about. Majority of your letters back home consisted of gushing about how wonderful and sweet George is, so naturally your parents were curious and intrigued to finally meet this handsome fellow.

They had arranged for a Christmas Eve Dinner at home before you depart for The Burrow later in the evening.

‘You know, you still haven’t told me how you got your parents to let you spend the Christmas holiday with us.’ Quipped George. ‘I thought your dad was pretty strict.’ The Hogwarts Express had started slowing down, nearing its destination of Platform 9 ¾.

‘Yea but I guess it the real gamechanger was Mr.Weasley. The last I heard was that they started hanging out during breaks in the Ministry. It started out as a reconnaissance of some sort-the basic background check if the boy dating my daughter is good enough. Which then blossomed into friendship.’ You lean back against the train compartment window, giving him more space to reach up to the luggage rack overhead.

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘George! Y/n! Over here!’ Ginny yelled. She was standing near the trolleys, surrounded with a group of redheads.

Once you reached her, she wrapped you in a tight embrace. ‘I’m going to miss you.’

You chuckled, patting the girl’s shoulder. ‘Gin, I’m only be gone for a couple hours, we’ll be back by midnight.’

‘Yea, but til then I’ll be stuck with these dofusses.’ She winced, nodding towards the direction of her brothers.

‘Hey!’ exclaimed Ron.

Ignoring him, Ginny continued. ‘You know how time drags with these idiots. Why couldn’t I just come with?’

‘No you aren’t young lady.’ Stated Mrs.Weasley, making her way pass her children. ‘This is a very important occasion, meeting the parents. George has to make a good impression to y/n parents.’  She turned to the younger twin, hands on her waist. ‘So. NO funny business okay? I expect you to be on your best behaviour.’ She warned.

George raised 3 fingers up. ‘Yes ma’am. I promise.’

Mrs Weasley knew that despite George’s playful response, would keep this promise. Afterall she knew her children at heart. Recognises George’s coping tactics for nerves is through humour.

‘Alright then. I’ll see you later.’ Hugging you then her son. ‘Oh before I forget, we’ll take your luggage back with us so that it’ll be easier for you to get home. Fred! Percy! Come help me with these!’

‘Thank you Mrs.Weasley for-‘

‘Molly dear, call me Molly. I’ve known you for years now, you’re basically part of the family.’

You can feel your face warm up. ‘Thanks…Mrs…. I mean Molly for everything.’

‘No worries dear. Just be careful, I heard that it’ll snow more later.’

‘We will Mum.’ Replied George, placing a kiss on her check. ‘Don’t worry.’

You held your hand out to George. ‘Ready for your first ever ride on a muggle double decker bus?’

‘Oh yes.’ He nodded, interlocking his hands with yours.

~

‘Mum! I’m home!’ You shake off the snow that had stuck onto your boots before entering.

‘In here Dumpling!’ said a distant voice.

‘Dumpling huh?’ George teased; a smirk plastered on his face.

You were glad to see him calm down. ‘yea yea.’

‘Care to tell me why?’

‘Nope. Now get your butt in here.’

The house though small is full of life. Walls are lined with picture frames of the family together and along the hallway are frames of each member throughout the years.

You follow the fragrant smell of citrus in the air coming from the kitchen.

You head towards the opened refrigerator. ‘Merry Christmas Eve Mum!’ You greeted but were surprised to see someone else. ‘Dad! What are you doing here?’

‘What do you mean? It’s MY house!’ He resorted, taken aback.

‘You know what I mean.’

‘They let us off early in the Ministry.’

‘He means he left early’ Chimed your mother.

‘Perks of being the head of the department.’ He says nonchalantly, releasing you from a airtight embrace.

Your eyes light up. ‘You got the promotion?’ You asked, your father standing proud with a dazzling smile. ‘Congratulations Dad!’

‘Now now, this evening is not about me.’ His eyes dart to the tall boy behind you. The boy whose face showed apparent awkwardness during the mini intimate family catch up. ‘I don’t believe we’ve formally met. y/f/n yf/l/n.’ Extending his hand.

‘george..’ George cleared his throat. ‘George Weasley ,Sir. Pleasure to meet you Sir.’  George wondered if his hand had sweat more, feeling that your father was gripping his tight. Before his mind were to go down that rabbithole, he turned to your mother. ‘M’am..’

‘No please, call me y/m/n.’ Your mother insisted. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you George, we’ve heard so much about you.’ She leaned in close, whispering. ‘Between you and me, most of our dumpling’s letters here are about you!’ She looks over her shoulder to make sure, they aren’t overheard. Thankful you are preoccupied with dad. ‘It’s great to finally have a face to the name!’ Taking a more solemn tone she continued. ‘Listen you take good care of her okay, she doesn’t let anyone in her emotions easily, so you must be special.’

Just as fast as it came, she was back to normal. George would have thought that he imagined that whole exchange if it weren’t from the gleam in your mother’s eyes.

‘Right then.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘y/f/n, my love. Why don’t you give George here a tour of the house. Then help y/n and I when you’re done.’

‘On it my love.’ Your father replied, pecking your mother’s cheek. ‘George! I’m told you love inventing, so why don’t we start on with my study, I bet there’s a lot of things you’d find interesting.’ Said your father, leading George up the kitchen and up the stairs.

Once they rounded out the corner, your mother was instantly at your side, bumping your hips. ‘He seems like a nice boy. Quieter than I expected.’

‘Yea, He’ll get into the zone later.’ You noted. ‘Give him time and when he’s comfortable, he’ll be more like himself. He’ll really nervous, that’s all.’

‘I know.’

That made curious. ‘You know?’

‘Oh yess.’ Your mother sighed. ‘Your father had that exact same face when he first went to meet Grannie and Grandpops.’

‘Really?’ How had she never shared this story before?

‘umm hmm’ She reminisced. ‘It’s good that his reaction is like that. It shows that one’s scared and anxious, wanting to impress and give a good first impression.’

When she saw how lost you look, she held your chin up, elaborating. ‘It means that he cares. That it’s a big important deal, meeting the parents.’

~

It’s been a hour already since your father had dragged George off, to what you believe as a house tour disguised as a boyfriend interrogation. Truth be told you were scared out of your mind, you never had brought home a boy before so you didn’t know what to expect, this is unknown territory.

The growing sounds of footsteps and…laughter? Surely that was a good sign.

‘Woah that is a lot of food. Exactly how many people did you invite over for Christmas dinner?’ George had come up behind you, with a hand on your lower back- touchy as if warming up and testing the waters on how much physical touch he could get away with, with your parents in the room.

‘A lot.’ You replied, angling up to poke his cheek. ‘You’re not the only one with a big family, Weasley’

‘I thought you were only 4 of you?’

‘well, my mom’s side of the family is coming.’ You explained, counting them on your fingers. ‘So that’s includes my grandparents, aunts and uncles and their family-my cousins.’

‘why only your mom’s side?’ George was genuinely confused, isn’t Christmas all about getting together with family?

You chuckled. ‘oh it’s a funny story actually…’

‘More like an almost disastrous story.’ Cut in your father. ‘See my brother is a lightweight but every Christmas he tries to outdrink himself. And one Christmas, things…..got out of hand.’

When your father didn’t explain more, your mother further clarified, taking pity on George’s ever more puzzled look. ‘Long story short, he end up doing magic infront of my family specifically changed into his Animagus form it would be easy to say he just disappeared behind the couch if his animal form was small but his was a tiger- so harder to cover up.’

‘Dad ultimately had to obliviate 7 people’s memories of the past hour. From then on, for long holidays we separate the family into magic vs muggles.’

‘SO remember NO magic!’ Announced your dad. ‘Tonight, we act as Muggles, no magic at all cost. We won’t wanna risk Ministry intervention.’

~

The early Christmas dinner had gone in a blur, the food was quickly devoured by the table of 15. Yes that’s right, 15. Normally the dinner table could expand to accommodate 6 people, but thanks to transfiguration, your father had lengthen it to fit the then arriving guest.

In addition to enjoying the food, your relatives had seized the time to pry into your love life in between bites. The previous years’ answer of “I don’t have a boyfriend” followed by their unwanted input about what you’re doing wrong, was obviously not applicable.

So you ended up being interrogated by your aunt on your right, while George, who was sitting on your left was being questioned by your grandfather.

‘Gee is that the time! We better get going, maw come on dear we don’t want to be caught out of the road by the snowstorm.’ Your grandfather said, helping your grandmother up from her seat. ‘Get the car ready, Finn.’

At that, everyone began to get pack up. Usually you would all stay up for more talks, but under the threat of a looming snowstorm, it was better to be safe than sorry.

~

‘Alright dumpling, got everything?’ Your mother wondered, straightening up your coat.

‘Yup’ You replied, all snuggled up. You didn’t bother telling her that the coat wasn’t necessary as you would be apparating back to the Burrow- you knew how much she hated the tension apparition causes to one’s temples.

‘George..’ She said, now moving towards the quiet young man who had once again caught himself a bit out of place in such an intimate family moment. ‘It was really nice to meet you; I do hope that we would get to see you most often now that y/n has formally introduce us.’ She pulled him into a motherly hug. ‘You take care of my dumpling, or else… you’d find out what muggle parents do to those who hurt their children, and I warn you, you magic folks don’t know what’s coming.’

The final warning came and went, and George managed to utter. ‘I promise.’ Before your father came into view, looking more unreadable and stricter than their introductions earlier in the day.

George was terrified, he had thought that things had gone well, surely they had bonded over the guide house tour. Might had he said something wrong during dinner, Grandpa y/l/n sure did ask a lot of questions. George mentally recalled the past couple of hours, where could this all gone sideways.

To his surprise he was greeted with an outstretched hand. ‘You’re a good lad, George.’ Remarked your father, ‘Oh and you can call me y/f/n.’

Both your and George’s eyes go wide.

‘Thank you, sir! I mean…’ George was still nervous, a part of him thinking that this was a secret test. ‘y/f/n, sir. Thank you’ Tried George, the tips of his ears red.

Your father chuckled at the hesitant boy, ‘In time you will get the hang of that’ He turned to you. ‘That is.. if y/n is willing to for us to join you two in the future. The dinner might have frightened you off, sorry for that.’ Your father wrapped an arm around your mother, ‘Perhaps the next time could be with MY side of the family…’

At that moment the doorbell rang.

‘Now who could that be?’ Voiced your mother. ‘Mum, Dad!’

‘Bad News dearie, Roads and Highways are closed for the night-Too much snow.’ Explained your grandfather, barging into the warm house. ‘We’ll have to stay the night.’

‘Uh! George my boy, you are still here! Great! Pa look who it is!’ Cheered your grandfather, pinching his arm (His cheeks were too high up to reach).  Leaving George’s right sleeve with specks of melting snow. ‘Though I am afraid we would get to chatting in the morning, sleep is calling me.’

But before George would reply that he wouldn’t be here in the morning, your father interjected. ‘Yes yes of course, the guestroom is ready as always. Have a good night’s rest nannie.’ Looking past her to the doorway he shouted. ‘Finn you can take the couch, we’ll give you some blankets in a sec.’

He gestured for you both to follow him into the dinning room. You quickly followed suit, panicking as to how in the world could you apparate to the burrow while presenting a valid reason to your grandparents in 2 young person’s disappearance overnight when the is a heavy snowstorm raging on.

‘I wouldn’t suggest apparating tonight’ He huffed. ‘Unless of course if you don’t mind popping back in again tomorrow morning.’

You shook your head. You were not an earlier riser, besides spending the night in the burrow when had to be back home first thing would be wise, you would be just exhausting yourself.

‘Good. I’ll notify Arthur of our situation. Now unto the other thing….’ He raised a brow at George. ‘Since that the spare room and the couch are taken, it would be rude to ask a guest to rest in a more comfortable place..’

You internally groaned, you kinda had an idea where this conversation was headed to but gosh was it in the parents handbook to deliver to so awkwardly?

‘…you are bot old enough and trust both of you. So, George if you don’t mind, you would be spending the night in y/n’s room.’

You dared risked a quick glance at your boyfriend and you could tell that he was trying not to smirk.

George in fact was trying his best not to smile, biting the insides of his cheek to stop himself.

‘So no funny business.’

‘Yes Sir.’ George didn’t dare call him, y/f/n. Not at this moment, even if he was granted the permission.

~

‘So….This is me.’ Presenting your room. ‘It’s not much, but-‘

‘It’s beautiful.’ George cut you off. There wasn’t much going on, seeing that you spend majority of the year in Hogwarts and only a month or two at home. A single bed next to the window overlooking the road, a small desk, a wardrobe with a mirrored door and 2 bookshelves. Plain white walls decorated with a small makeshift photo wall of your most cherished memories.

Spotting the photos next to your bookshelf, he chortled.  ‘It’s really sweet of you, I feel honoured.’ He turned to you. ‘But this one? Seriously??!!?’ Pointing at the photograph.

It was of the yule ball. The relationship wasn’t official yet, it was still teetering on the side of best friends but with something more or so Fred calls ‘Y/n and George’s Era of Mutual Pining’.

The shot was of you in your gown, not so elegantly piggybacking on George, who was mid fall. Despite it all, you were both laughing your heads off. Ginny had taken that picture with your muggle camera. Something about it being developed as a standstill compared to the moving wizard photos adds charm to it, further highlighting such a moment.

‘I for one love it.’ You declared, leaning your head on his shoulder.

‘We do look nice together.’ He teased. ‘But gosh that is a bit unflattering, don’t you think? It looks like we’re drunk!’

‘Drunk on love you mean.’ Nudging his side. ‘Though we haven’t admitted it then.’

George squinted closer, ‘Wait a minute! It’s not moving!’

‘Yup, don’t want any muggle walking in a moving photo. But more importantly, it’s forever captures the moment of ‘I am in love with my best friend, a person who would never let me fall.’

‘Expect to fall in love, with your truly.’

‘Exactly.’ In moments like these, where no one else in the room, does George lets his sappy cheesy side on full blast and you love it. It’s as if a top-secret surprise that is for your eyes only.

‘Now come to bed with me.’ You reach for his hand, dragging him to your tiny bed. ‘I’m tired’

‘Love as much as I want to, I don’t think we’d fit.’ Eyeing the bed. ‘One of us will fall off- most probably me.’

Taking one of you pillows he said ‘ I’ll just lay down here.’

‘Nuh uh, not in my house. You are my boyfriend and my guest! No way am I letting you sleep on the floor!’ You argued. ‘Come cuddle with me, pleaseeeeeeee’ Giving him your best pout. ‘We have had any alone time, the whole day! Pleaseeeee babe! ’

George shook his head, knowing that the was no way that he could ever say ‘NO’ to you. He did miss his girl and after an exhaustive day practically being interrogated by multiple family member, he was grateful to finally spend time with you. ‘Alright.’ Giving into your request. ‘Scoot over and let me engulf you into a world of softness.’

Your head was resting on George’s chest, bopping along with his each intake of breath. The snow outside is still pouring but the all the noise is silenced as you focus in his heartbeat.  Tilting up slightly you pipped. ‘You comfortable Georgie?’

George wrapped his arms around you tighter. ‘I’m good anywhere with you.’ He placed a final kiss on your forehead before exhaustion take you both away to dreamland.

~

Bonus:

The sun had come up, casting a warm glow onto the white blanked pavement.  

Still drained from the day before, neither of you had woken up to your bedroom door opening.

‘Merry Christmas Y/n dearie! Nannie has bought you your favourite hot choco—’  Your grandmother stopped in her tracks upon seeing 2 angels tangled together with smiles etched on their sleeping faces. Reminding her of own younger days.

She leaves the mug on your desk, quietly shut the door. Once out on the hallway, she quickly makes her way to her husband, eager to tell him what he just saw and excited to come up with more questions they could interrogate George with-only the best for their granddaughter!

--

 Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

[baby-witch-eli]

Quantifying my Craft

I found this lovely post by @breelandwalker, who I totally recommend checking out, and it inspired me. My cards and horoscopes have been pushing me to reflect on my goals lately so this is exactly what I needed right now! I decided I'd give it a go.

Broad Concepts

I like to follow western traditions; Celtic traditions in particular are near and dear to my heart. This is why I chose to focus my worship in the Celtic Pantheon, and I'm currently working on building a relationship with Brigid. I would consider myself an eclectic, although divination and nature magic are my two main areas of focus. While I like to ask others for advice while I learn, magic is something I prefer to practice on my own. I've only been practicing since late January, interestingly enough I started around Imbolc. So far I've found intentions are the most important aspect of witchcraft and it has helped me greatly to practice intention in all aspects of my life.

Working Space

I began constructing an altar to Brigid yesterday. Frustratingly enough, my mother is going to have me put away all my small little items and decorations tomorrow as we're trying to sell our house. We won't be moving for a few more months though. I'm hoping I'll be able to keep the altar up but I'll look into online altar options if needed. I already keep an online altar to myself on an app called #SelfCare that I would highly recommended.

Right now my altar to Brigid has a white candle in a green holder; a sailor's knot I wore around my wrist until it started to come undone; a silver bell for music and creativity; the first piece of pottery I ever painted; a picture book of the traveling I did around Michigan a few years ago; an empty journal I hope to fill with art and poems dedicated to her; and a beaker (cauldron stand-in) I dedicated by burning a sigil in that holds nineteen white rose petals and a whisker my cat lost. I'm charging a carnelian and working on a piece of fox, the spirit guide she sent me, embroidery to add to the altar. It's positioned on top of an organizer I have on my desk, which is pushed up against a window.

There's a spot under my porch I wanted to use for meditation but I discovered I'm too jumpy and distractible to meditate outdoors. I don't like having my eyes closed when out of the open and I have an exaggerated startle response. Instead, I find it better for me to meditate in the bath. Sitting in water at least ankle deep with the lights off, after everybody else has gone to sleep and when the moon can shine through the window, is the ideal place for me to sit and follow a guided meditation. I find meditations that take me on a journey through my astral space are the most effective.

Ideally, I'd like to be able to have my own space where I can freely spread my altars and workspaces throughout the house. I want to be able to fill it with plants and books and cards and candles. While I'm at home trying to avoid suspicion from my Christian family, I just have to make the most of what I have.

Tools

My first deck is on the #SelfCare app. I call it my "Familiar Deck" as that's the one I'm most connected with. It's brutally honest, which I love. My second favorite deck is the "blue-eyed" deck I use for my Daily Draw. Another brutally honest deck and one I find to be very accurate. When asking Brigid questions, I prefer to use the Yes/No deck. It gives you your answer and is also good at accurately conveying "secondary," not yes/no, messages. You'll notice all of them are online and that's because, once again, I live with my Christian family and must be covert.

I have a quite a few crystals as I, thankfully, was interested in collecting them when I was younger. The tumbled crystals I have are small and few; most of my crystals are raw. I keep forgetting to charge them when there's a full moon out. I'll have to set a reminder or something to that effect. At the very least, I'm happy that I don't have to bother with trying to obtain any without my parents becoming suspicious. One of these days, I'd love to start collecting rings and wear several. It's also silly little dream of mine to get an onyx pendulum someday.

As far as books go, I bought a beautiful journal I've dedicated as my grimoire. It's dark blue with shiny, gold space decals. I would love to collect witchy books but I don't have money and I couldn't get away with it while living at home. I hear there's an excellent discord that stores witchy books and I think it's something I'll look into. For now, my information comes from my internet research. Thankfully, I did debate for several years, so I know how to find sources from accurate cites, but it certainly takes a lot of work to find good information that way.

The Year

I’m interested in learning more about the Wheel of the Year and incorporating it into my practice. Imbolc is especially important to me, as I worship the goddess Brighid. I missed it this year but I hope to celebrate it in the future. I have yet to study the important of dates outside of astrology so I’ll have to make sure I study it more.

History of My Magic

Honestly, I’ve always felt a very strong pull towards magic. I was raised in a very religious family though so I was always afraid that answering the call would condemn me. I grew up reading as many fantasy stories as I could, connecting with any animal I was able to, and spending as much time in the woods or by water as I could. The woods and the water have always felt full of magic to me and inspired me to want to practice witchcraft. Ever since I was little, I’ve had a great fondness and affection for the moon and stars. I’ve also always felt very drawn to Celtic folklore, magic, and Irish culture. I have distant family ties to Ireland and even though it’s a relatively minor aspect of my heritage, it’s always felt the most important to me. Movies like Song of the Sea and Brendan and the Secret of Kells helped tighten my bond with it. I even started learning as much as I could about the Fae after some books I read piqued my interest. I’ve always been the kid who kept a firm belief in magic even after all my friends “outgrew” it.

It took me a long time to finally answer the call to magic. Like I said, I was raised in a religious household. My grandparents even accused me of being a witch when I went through my Harry Potter phase! It actually made me rather pleased. There were a few times I came very close to beginning practicing witchcraft but I shied away for fear of Hell. It wasn’t until I finally was able to distance myself from the church earlier this year that I decided to start practicing magic behind my parents’ back. I’m very glad I did.

Progress

I’ve only been practicing for a few months. I’ve been very busy with college so it’s been pretty lax so far. I’m trying to build some sort of consistency. The end of the semester is a bad time for that, for sure. I’ve really connected with astrology and tarot-reading. Learning about the symbolism of different bugs and animals has also been something I’ve honestly also done, so it’s nice to be able to incorporate that into my practice. Dragonflies have always been signs of good luck for me (or bad omens, as the one time I saw one dead was one my Grammy found in her garage; she showed it to me a month or so before she passed away from cancer).

Recently, I began meditation. I met my spirit animal, a brown-eyed fox, who I ended up learning was sent by the goddess Brighid to guide me. I contacted Brighid about twice and set up an altar for her. The first time I heard her speak to me was when she was telling me I don’t drink enough water (I haven’t met with her since I pulled an all-nighter for college and I’m sure she’s not particularly pleased with that). I’m hoping to get back into my meditative practice soon. I’ve also needed to meditate to ask about a crow or raven that my sister and I kept crossing paths with while going out to lunch together. I’m not sure if it’s a sign of something or if the Morrigan wants to contact me. I’ve also heard the name Cernunnos repeated in my head lately so I’ve wanted to look into him too. I didn’t think I’d have anything to do with deities after my experiences with Christianity but Brighid quickly changed my mind.

Final Notes

I actually started writing this post a week or so ago but life got crazy. I’m in the last few weeks of my Freshman year of college, so it’s hectic. Right now I’m staying at a cabin in the mountains over the weekend, so I’m hoping this will give me the chance I need to wind down and reconnect with Brighid and my higher self. I’m hoping to get a daily routine going for my practice over the next few weeks.

[gwentoryfics]

Hot for Teacher, Part 10.

GENRE | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

PAIRING | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

WORDS | 11.3k

SUMMARY | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

WARNINGS | Swearing. Phone sex. Video sex. Masturbation (male and female). Pillow humping.

PARTS | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • More Coming Soon

NOTE | The smut MAY have gotten a little out of hand this time... NO REGERTS. Also sorry that it took me so long to finally finish & post this. Anxiety, depression, and long work weeks really suck.

TAGS | @astralsweetness, @bearboyunho, @day6grams, @heyheydee7, @hhhongseok, @honeyutoda, @kkxn0, @precious-seungwooya, @seraplantery, @smilechannie​, @the-deviant-world, @yeosang-ponytail​

“Jinho?”

You’re completely frozen in place as you stare at your brother, as bright eyed as he’s ever been, standing just across the lobby. He stands on his tiptoes to wave as people pass between you both, and then he’s walking towards you.

Jinho, your big brother, is here. He’s right here.

You finally break out of your shock, vision growing blurry with tears as you rush towards him, abandoning your grip on your suitcase as soon as he pulls you into a hug.

“_____, I missed you!” Jinho squeezes you tightly, and you notice his body is much more solid than it used to be.

“Jinho…” You weakly whimper his name as the tears begin to fall, still in utter disbelief that after so long you finally get the chance to see him again. You haven’t heard a word from him since the day he disappeared. 

“Come on, _____, don’t cry.” He pats your back but doesn’t make any attempt to let you go. 

Even with your arms securely wrapped around him, you still can't comprehend the fact that he's here and he's alive and he's here.

Jinho waits until you finally release him, giving you all the time you need to hold him close. He gives you the warmest smile, and as much as it soothes you, it also makes you suddenly, incredibly angry.

"Where did you go?" You ask, frustration thick in your voice. "Why did you leave? Why haven't I heard anything from you?"

Jinho's smile fades, but he seems understanding of your pain. "Let's talk about it in the car, okay?"

You nod, overwhelmed by all of the emotions flooding you. Jinho grabs the handle of your bag and leads you out into the parking lot. You tightly grasp the sleeve of his coat as you walk together, afraid that he could slip away from you at any moment.

Once you’re finally on the road and headed home, he speaks up. “You know how mom and dad wanted you to be a secretary? Or a housewife? They’ve been telling you basically since you could walk that they already decided what you should do with your life and that their plan was the best plan. Right?”

You hum quietly in agreement. They had always been vocal about what they wanted for you.

“They did that to me, too, I’m sure you remember.”

“Yeah, I lost count of the number of times I heard them telling family and neighbors about how you were going to take over the farm one day.”

“It’s suffocating. It felt like I had no control over my life, like I couldn’t actually do what I wanted to do.”

“What did you want to do?”

Jinho sighs, shifting in his seat as you coast down the street, headed for the country. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I still don’t. All I knew was that I wanted to make my own decision. So I joined the Army.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up a little straighter, surprised. “What?”

Jinho lets out a short laugh at your response. “Yeah, it just seemed like the right way to go. I didn’t have a plan for university or for a career, so I thought joining the Army would let me get away from home for a while, let me meet some new people.”

“Jinho, how does that make any sense? You left home because you had no freedom, so you joined the Army, where you also have no freedom?”

“I never said it was a good idea, or even the right one. But it’s the choice I made. I got to make that decision,” Jinho responds bitterly. A little softer, he says, “I didn’t have the balls you have to uproot your whole life in pursuit of a passion, to tell mom and dad that you won’t do as they say. So I just had to leave, had to disappear.”

You chew on your lip, processing everything he’s shared with you, but one question remains: “Why did you have to abandon me, too?”

“It felt like the only way. It felt like I needed full separation from my life here, and you were unfortunately part of that. I feel awful about it and I never should have removed myself from your life like that. You’re my little sister,” He looks over at you fondly, but it’s bittersweet. “And I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to be there for you but I was selfish and left you to fend for yourself. I am so, so sorry for that.”

You hate to admit it, but you understand where he’s coming from. It makes sense. You just hate that it made you feel so shitty and like you didn’t mean anything to him. But you’ve always loved your big brother, and honestly you’re so happy to have him back that it’s feeling more and more difficult to continue being upset with him. Still, you put on a pout. “Maybe if you buy me some ice cream before we get home, I’ll think about forgiving you.”

“You’ve got it. One large chocolate cone for my favorite baby sister, comin’ right up.” He heartily agrees to it, and you smile.

“How long are you home for?”

“It’s indefinite. I’m done with the Army.”

“Really? What are you going to do now?”

Jinho laughs. “No idea. But that’s kind of freeing. Like I can just decide to do anything now.”

“That’s true,” you laugh with him. “And no matter what you end up choosing, I’m proud of you for figuring it out your own way.”

With a fond smile, he says, “Thanks, _____. And I’m proud of you for following your heart and doing what you love, despite whatever bullshit mom and dad try to shove down our throats.”

Oh, if only he knew just how much you’ve been following your heart… But you’re not ready to tell him all of that right now, if at all. The two of you used to be really close growing up, but him leaving obviously drove a pretty big wedge between you. It doesn’t feel right to tell him exactly what you’ve been up to at school.

Besides, it feels really nice to just let yourself get away from the drama, to just relax in the car with your brother on your way home, with the promise of ice cream in the very near future. You want to enjoy this just a little while longer before you’re forced back into contemplating your predicament.

All of the boys in your life can wait. The only one that matters right now is Jinho.

When you finally pull into the driveway, it feels like a weight lifts up off of your shoulders. It’s so good to be home; you love the excitement of the city, but there’s something so peaceful about the small farm town where you grew up.

Your parents are both thrilled to have you home, of course, and the four of you stay up a little too late just to enjoy being a full family again. Regardless of the circumstances of Jinho’s disappearance, it doesn’t seem like your parents are holding any grudges. You’re really thankful for that.

The next day, the Thanksgiving festivities kick off with a trip to your grandparents’ house where your dad’s large family crowds around the tables in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. The food is incredible, the relatives are loud, and everything just feels right… Although you can’t help but be excited about moving on to the next house for dinner.

After a few hours of eating and visiting with your relatives, your family piles back into the car and heads to your mom’s brother’s place--more specifically, Minseo’s childhood home.

As expected, Minseo tackles you as soon as you walk in the door, smothering you with a hug and squealing about how much she missed you.

You squeeze her as tight as you can, twirling in circles with her in your arms. “I missed you too! We have so much to catch up on!”

“Oh my God, you have no idea.” Minseo puts her mouth right up against your ear and whispers, “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“What?” You practically squeak, partially from the surprise of her announcement and partially from the tickle of her breath. You release her from the hug and grip her arms. “Who? Since when? What happened?”

“I can’t get into it now because the whole family’s here and honestly my parents are not thrilled that I’ve even been hanging out with this guy. But what do you think about a good old fashioned sleepover at your place tonight?”

“Of course!” You nod excitedly. 

“Yay! Okay cool.” She plants a kiss on your cheek and gives you one last hug. “I’m gonna go say hi to Jinho, since I haven’t seen him yet since he’s been back.”

You remember that she was supposed to pick you up from the train station. “When did you find out that he was home? I can’t even begin to tell you how shocked I was to see him at the train station instead of you.”

“Only a few days before you got here. He got my number from your mom and asked if he could pick you up instead. I told him yes, of course, but only if he bought me ice cream to make up for the fact that he was keeping you away from me for an additional day. I still need to cash in on that.”

With a giggle, you admit, “I made him buy me ice cream too, as an apology for disappearing in the first place.” 

“What else is he good for if he isn’t supplying us with snacks?” Minseo laughs heartily. “Anyway, I love you, and I’m excited to chat more tonight.”

“Love you, too.” You give her a smile as she walks off to greet your brother.

More family members arrive, and eventually you all get settled for dinner. The food is delicious, as it always is, and you mingle with some of your aunts after the meal.

As you scan your eyes across the living room, you catch Jiyoo's gaze for what must be the fifth time already. Honestly, you're starting to wonder why she hasn't just come over to say hello yet. You excuse yourself from the conversation your aunts are having, which you weren't really a part of anyway, and slip through the room to finally greet your cousin.

"Hey, Jiyoo!" You walk right up and give her a hug. "How's the married life?"

She lightly hugs you back, but she seems a little stiff. "Oh, you know, it's going well. Hey, um, can I talk to you for a sec?"

You let go, immediately sensing that something must be wrong by the way she just dismisses . "Yeah, of course. What is it?"

"Maybe let's…" She nods her head towards the back door. "Maybe some fresh air?"

"Sure, okay." You agree, deciding to just follow her lead on this one.

The cold night air instantly hits you as soon as you step foot outside, but it's actually kind of refreshing. The house was getting a little stuffy because of all of your relatives, anyway.

Jiyoo takes a seat in one of the lawn chairs sitting out there and gestures for you to sit in the one next to her. You oblige. "Is everything okay?"

She finally confronts you, asking, “Did you really sleep with Hongseok?”

Panic strikes deep into the core of your bones. How could she know? “Sorry, what?”

“He told Hwitaek and I overheard and I just… I thought we should talk about it.”

“He? He told… Hwitaek?” You’re absolutely flabbergasted. Why would he do that? Was he just bothered by the way you ran out and needed to talk to a friend? That wouldn’t be entirely unfair of him, but you had both agreed to keep it a secret originally and you assumed that still rang true for your most recent tryst.

“Hey, it’s okay, just… just be honest. If he’s just talking shit about you, you can let me know and I’ll set the record straight.” Jiyoo searches your face for a sign of the truth, concern lining her delicate features.

You try to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. This is certainly not something you wanted to tackle tonight, but you suppose you don’t have much choice if she already knows about it. “...And if he’s telling the truth?”

Jiyoo’s lips press into a thin line. “Then I guess I just need to accept that my baby cousin isn’t that much of a baby anymore.”

With a frown, you apologize. “I’m really sorry… I know it was a bad idea but I just…”

“You couldn’t help it. I get it.” Jiyoo lets out a deep sigh. “Honestly, that’s how I was when I met Hwitaek.”

You look to her expectantly. “I’ve never actually heard the story.”

Jiyoo hums and crosses her legs, settling back into her chair. “We were both bio chem majors, so I saw him around quite a lot. He has sort of a distinct face, one that’s really memorable. And he used to always wear these big headphones everywhere he went. I always wondered what he would listen to.” She smiles as she fondly reminisces. “I used to work at the computer lab in the science building part-time, and one day he passed by. And just as I turned around in my chair to tell my coworker about the cute Headphones Guy, he walked right up to the desk.”

You smile, enraptured by her storytelling. “Did he ask you out?”

“Don’t rush the story!” Jiyoo chides. “No, that’s actually not why he came back. He asked me if I knew what time the building closed, and I said I wasn’t sure. And then he gave me this weird look and laughed, saying, ‘What do you mean? You work here. How do you not know what time the building closes?’ I felt like an idiot, but I just told him that I knew when the lab closed, but that I didn’t know if the building closed at the same time. I didn’t think it was that crazy, but he did, apparently.”

“Wow, that’s very romantic,” you sarcastically comment with a chuckle.

“Yeah, it might not have been a great start, but the thing is, he stayed right there at my desk and talked to me for an hour and a half until my shift was over. And then he walked me to my dorm building. And then he came upstairs, and I’m sure you can guess where this is headed.” She smiles at you deviously.

With a laugh, you respond, “Really? You gave it up that quickly? I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“_____, you’ve seen him. I took one look at him and I was enamored. Add his dorky personality on top of that and I was practically telling him I loved him that night.” Even in the darkness of the backyard, you’re positive that she’s blushing. “And now look at us. He’s the love of my life and I wouldn’t give him up for the world. So all of this to say, I absolutely understand how there are certain people that you just can’t resist.”

You just nod. “It’s definitely difficult.”

“So how have you been handling the semester?”

“I mean, I tried to keep things between us as normal as possible but obviously that didn’t really work out, as you’re apparently aware,” you laugh. But when you look over at her, she just looks at you quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

And that’s when it dawns on you that this whole time she’s just been talking about your original hookup with Hongseok. She doesn’t know about the one that happened literally two nights ago. “Oh! Oh… oh no.”

You can’t cover for yourself in time. Jiyoo’s eyes grow wide and her mouth hangs open as she realizes exactly where the misunderstanding came from. “Did you sleep with him again?”

“I thought that’s what you were talking about!”

“_____!” Even though Jiyoo is shocked, she keeps her volume low, well aware that the entire rest of your family is packed inside. “He’s your professor!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Frustration blossoms in your chest. “And what about everything you just said? I thought you understood!”

“This is different! It’s one thing to be swept off your feet by a handsome stranger, and it’s entirely another to screw your professor!”

“Are you seriously mad about this right now?”

Jiyoo just shakes her head in disbelief. “_____… What have you done?” She falls silent, and somehow that is the worst thing that you could have received from her. She takes a deep breath and then instructs you to stay put as she disappears inside. When she returns a few moments later, Hwitaek and Minseo are in tow.

She literally brought in recruits. You immediately throw up your walls, feeling the need to defend yourself. “What’s this all about?”

Jiyoo looks at you like the concerned mother hen that she’s always been whenever you’re involved. “I think we all need to talk about how you’re handling yourself.”

Minseo’s brow furrows with confusion as she looks to Jiyoo. “What happened?”

“She slept with Hongseok again.”

Both Hwitaek and Minseo are visibly shocked by the news, but more importantly, you’re shocked by the gall that Jiyoo has to spread your personal life around like that.

Minseo’s expression melts to something that looks kind of like sadness. Before she can say anything to you, though, you shoot daggers at Jiyoo. “Why don’t we all just quit being such a gossipy family and instead just mind our own business?”

“_____-” Jiyoo tries to reach out to you, but you turn and storm off, heading towards the barn just to get a second away from everyone so that you can breathe.

You slip inside the large barn, slowing your pace as you walk past the tractors and other equipment stored there. You head directly to the back of the barn and plop down onto the floor. 

There’s something weirdly comforting about being in the barn. It reminds you of growing up, back when things were a little more simple. Your life working on the family farm hadn’t been particularly easy--it’s very challenging work--but at least back then you didn’t make such shitty decisions for how to live your life.

You barely get more than a minute of solitude before the barn door creaks open, and Hwitaek pops his head in. “_____?” He looks around for a second before he spots you. “Can I come in?”

“You’re not here to lecture me, are you?”

“Not going to lecture you. I promise.”

You chew your bottom lip. “Come in.”

Hwitaek closes the door behind him and makes the long walk over to where you’re seated. He joins you on the floor, and sits quietly for longer than you expected. Maybe he just doesn’t really know what to say. It’s not like the two of you have ever spent time together before. You chatted for, like, a second at the wedding, and that’s it.

Eventually he gets some words together. “I’m not going to apologize because it’s not my place to, but I’m sure you know that Jiyoo likes to make everything her business.”

“Not sure if you’ve seen any trends yet, but that’s kind of just how our family is.”

“I’ve noticed.” He chuckles. “Minseo has been spending a lot of time at our place recently and oh my God those two never run out of tea to spill.”

You have to laugh too because you know how true that is. “Yeah, they can be a lot. I’m sure it’s at least partially a small-town mindset. Everyone here is always in everyone else’s business and I’m just kind of over it. That’s half the reason why I wanted to get away and go to university.”

Hwitaek nods. “I can understand that. I’ve never lived in any major cities but it definitely seems like a change of pace compared to here.”

“It is. But I like it.”

Another silence falls between you, and you absentmindedly fiddle with your shoelaces as the cold starts to set in. It’s a bit awkward, but you just stew in it until he speaks up again.

Eventually he says, “Hongseok has talked to me about you. I know it’s not any of my business though so we don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”

“Jiyoo said he told you about… the wedding.”

“He did. And he told me how hard it has been to be around you. It sounds like he’s really been struggling with everything he’s feeling, and I shouldn’t be surprised that he caved. I even told him not to act on his impulses because clearly that introduces a lot of risk into the situation, and I didn’t think that was a good idea. He’s usually so disciplined…”

“It’s kind of my fault,” you confess. “I have zero self discipline and I just couldn’t keep myself under control.”

“Well regardless of who takes the blame, I do trust Hongseok with my life and I think he’s got a good head on his shoulders. It’s not my job to tell you two what you should or shouldn’t do, so I’m going to take a step back. He certainly doesn’t have any ulterior motives, so I don’t think it’s truly that concerning that you’re student and teacher.” He shoots you a side eye. “As long as you’re not planning to blackmail him or anything.”

You just shake your head. “I’m not like that. What happened between us has absolutely nothing to do with me wanting some sort of personal gain or anything. It’s just… he’s just attractive, that’s all.” You feel your face heat up. It feels weird to say that to Hongseok’s best friend.

“He really is. And he’s charming, too. I get why anyone would fall for him.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Who said I was falling for him?”

“Feel free to tell me you’re not, if that’s the case.” Hwitaek looks over at you, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

You frown. You know you’re definitely attracted to him, and you enjoyed spending time with him at the exhibit, but do you have any feelings? It’s hard to tell because of the way things ended. “I don’t know. I think we just need to talk when I get back. I kind of ran away last time I saw him so there’s a lot that’s unresolved.”

“Just be honest with him when you talk, and that’ll encourage him to open up, too. There’s no point in trying to have a discussion with him if he feels like he has to watch everything he says.”

“Yeah, I think some honesty would probably be good for us.”

“No matter what you two decide about where to go from here, it’s up to you two. Just know that there might be consequences, so be careful. And I’ll do my best to keep Jiyoo out of it.”

“Thanks, Hwitaek.” You give him a small smile. “I appreciate your support.”

“Of course. He’s my best friend and I want him to be happy. It’s risky, but I get it.” Hwitaek stands and holds out a hand to help you up. “Let’s head back now. It’s freezing out here and I’m dying to dig into that pumpkin pie.”

You and Minseo sit silently on the old couch in your basement, munching on gummy candies and popcorn as an old movie plays on the TV. It’s not one that either one of you is particularly enthusiastic about, but it’s just one of the many DVDs tucked into the entertainment center the TV stands on. 

She’s been more quiet than usual since she came back to your house with you after the family dinner had ended, and you’re positive that it has to be because of the sudden announcement of your affair with Hongseok. You’ve been dying to bring it up with her, but you had to wait until Jinho finally went to bed so the two of you could be alone. 

Now that he’s gone, it’s time for you to talk.

You’re not really sure where to start, so you just ask, “Are you mad at me?”

Minseo sighs. “We always tell each other everything. Why didn’t you tell me about Hongseok? Why did you tell Jiyoo first?”

“I was going to tell you, I swear. I was planning on telling you about it tonight. Jiyoo just accidentally figured it out first because I’m a dumbass and misunderstood what she was talking about.” You lie down across the couch, resting your head in Minseo’s lap. “I’m sorry that you didn’t get to hear about it from me first but I promise I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I was just saving it for a better time, kind of like how you didn’t want to talk about your boyfriend when we were at your parents’ house.”

Minseo rakes her fingers through your hair, and you close your eyes, pleased. “I get it. I’m sorry for being grumpy about it.”

“It’s okay. We all get grumpy. Do you want to hear about it now?”

“Duh,” she laughs. “I want every single detail. Spill.”

So you tell her everything. How he gave you the private tour of his exhibit, how you essentially invited yourself over to his apartment, how he made it pretty clear that he didn’t really want you to leave until he had his way with you. How you ran like the wind out of his apartment the next morning. And you even tell her about your trysts with Wooseok, and the fact that you’re supposed to be mulling over whether you want to date Kino when you get back to the city. And as you expect, she’s incredibly invested and interested in every single morsel of information you share with her.

“You’re really out there living your best life, huh?” She comments when you finally finish your stories. “What an exciting mess you’ve created.”

“It’s great, right?” By this point you’re seated upright again, and you lean heavily against the back of the couch, letting your head fall back against it. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about any of it.”

Minseo shrugs. “Just do what you’ve always done: follow your heart.”

“It’s so much more complicated than that, though.” You respond with a frown. “I can’t just do whatever I want anymore.”

“Well but you can. To an extent, at least. It’s your life, after all. And it’s up to you to make sure that you’re living in a way that makes you happy. It sounds like you enjoy spending time with all of the guys you’ve been around, but now you’re too stressed by the circumstances to keep enjoying it. Obviously hooking up with multiple guys and ignoring romantic feelings isn’t the answer anymore.”

“And my heart will tell me what to do now?”

“It’s a starting point. Take me and Hyojong, for instance. My parents don’t like him, but I do. He’s what makes me happy. So screw what other people think. Don’t worry about our family. Don’t worry about your friends back at school. This is totally your choice, and you get to decide what you want to do. If you’re just living your life based off of what other people want or expect from you, then you’re bound to have regrets.”

You have to admit that she’s right. You only get one life, and you’re the only one that gets to run it. So you can’t let yourself worry about what other people will think if you decide you’re interested in anything romantic with Hongseok, or Kino, or Wooseok… or how the three of them might feel if you choose not to pursue anything romantic with anyone. You have to choose for you. 

“I have to choose for me.” You nod. “This is my life and who cares what other people think?”

“Exactly! That’s the spirit.” Minseo smiles broadly. “You’ll figure it out. And whatever is right is what will happen.”

You return her smile, and refocus the conversation on Minseo. “So Hyojong? That’s your boy?”

Giddy, she nods excitedly. “Yeah. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, but _____, he is absolutely wonderful.” She pulls out her cell phone and shows you a photo of the two of them picking apples. You immediately recognize his heavy-lidded gaze and long hair.

“Really? The bartender from the wedding? Girl!” You nudge her playfully. “I knew you thought he was cute but I didn’t know that you were, like, into him into him.”

“I didn’t know either! But I’ve been spending a lot of time with Jiyoo and Hwitaek recently and Jiyoo kind of set us up, and he’s so weird and funny and cool. He’s perfect for me.”

A warm smile touches your lips. “I’m so happy for you, Minseo. That’s exactly the kind of love you deserve.”

“Thanks,” she nearly blushes. “Now we’ve just gotta get you on the same train.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I get it figured out.” As your conversation comes to a close, you look back to the TV. “Can we please watch something else? I’m so over this movie.”

“Oh my God, I thought you’d never ask,” Minseo laughs. “Yes, please.”

Late Friday night, you find yourself digging through your closet in search of the sheet music you know you have for “Rhapsody in Blue”. You meant to bring it with you this year but you forgot about it when you made the move back up to your dorm. You’re certain it must be in here, but you keep getting distracted by old photo albums and yearbooks and all of the other nostalgia packed into the shelves of your closet.

One of the items that catches your attention is the keepsake box that your mother put together for you. It started out as a place for you to store all of the cards you got for your birthday or holidays, but you added other random items to the box like the friendship keychain Minseo made for you when you were younger, or the small piece of wood you found that broke off of the dance floor during your school’s prom.

Inevitably, whenever you revisit the keepsake box, you find something in there that you had forgotten about. This time is no different.

When you open the small box, your eyes immediately land on the dried up flowers sitting at the very top: Hongseok’s boutonniere.

You completely forgot that you decided to keep it--your night with him was just a pleasant memory by the time you departed for school. When you had put the flowers in this box, you had no idea just how much of a story would grow.

You pick up the small bundle of withered blooms, running a finger over the dried petals until you realize something that you should have noticed before--now that the flowers have shrunk, you can very easily see the piece of paper that’s tucked in the middle of the bunch.

Gently, you pick out the paper, the dramatic beating of your heart picking up rapidly. Did he leave you a note when he gave you the boutonniere? What secret message could he have snuck to you?

As you unfold the small note, you realize he didn’t leave you a message--he left you his phone number.

Ten digits, his name, and a stupid winky face.

Part of you wants to crumple it up and throw it out the window. Rid yourself of it forever so you can stop thinking about him all the goddamn time. 

But another (and unfortunately much stronger) part of you tells yourself that this is special. This means that you were never just a random hookup to him. Well, maybe it was random, but the phone number at least implies that he wanted to see you again.

Hongseok quite literally asked you to reach out. He gave you everything you needed to establish a connection with him. 

What would have happened if you had called? Would he have wanted to take you out on a date? Would he have asked you to get all dolled up again, just like you did that night, just so he could ruin you? 

And more importantly… what would he do if you call him now?

There’s so much that was left unsaid between you and him after you ran out. You have a million questions. And for some reason, you’re feeling stupidly brave right now. (You blame it on the dumb winky face.)

You jump onto your bed and grab your phone, your hands shaking as you pull up the dialpad. Are you really about to do this?

You punch in his number.

You press the damn green button.

You hold the phone up to your ear, pulse racing at the sound of the ringing.

And then he answers.

“Hello?” His voice alone sends something terribly wonderful shooting through your veins.

“Hi.” You answer simply, not really sure what to say.

Hongseok pauses for a moment, and then he says, “Sorry, who is this?”

Idiot. He doesn’t have your number. “Oh, right, um, it’s me. _____.” 

He pauses for a longer moment, and you worry he might hang up on you altogether. 

“Um, so I’m home right now for Thanksgiving, and I… I found the flowers. And your number.”

“I’m not sure this is appropriate.”

A bitter frown reaches your lips at his response. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

“Well what do you want me to say, _____? What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know!” You’re starting to feel exasperated, but you remind yourself that your rushed exit could be the cause of his attitude. More calmly, you say, “I’m sorry that I left like that. I just panicked and I had to get out of there. I’ve felt so confused about everything.”

“I suppose I can’t blame you for that.” Hongseok sighs gently. “We sure have made things confusing, haven’t we?”

You nod, and then realize he can’t see the gesture. “Yeah. We really have.”

“Can you give me a minute? Just stay on the line.”

You hum in acknowledgement and the call goes completely silent. Your pulse is through the roof, equal parts excited to be speaking with him over the phone and fatally nervous to be speaking with him over the phone.

After a little while, his voice is back. “Still there?”

“I am.”

“Thank you for not leaving this time.”

You let out a small laugh to accompany your eye roll. “Was that all a test?”

“Not exactly.” Hongseok chuckles in tune with you. “I just needed a second to get myself a drink before having this conversation.”

“Ah. You think it’s going to be that bad?”

“For my career, probably. Or my sanity, at the very least.”

It’s pleasantly surprising to you how quickly he drops his guard this time. “I drive you that crazy, huh?”

“Yeah.” He admits. “Yeah, you do.”

Now it’s your turn to be silent. You hadn’t expected him to so openly admit that.

“I have to ask…” He starts. “I thought maybe you just lost the boutonniere or that my phone number fell out, and that’s why you didn’t call. But you kept both of those things. So… why didn’t you?”

“Hongseok, you folded the paper up so small and you tucked it so far into the flowers that I had no idea it was even in there. I just saved the flowers because… I don’t know, they had a good memory attached. I didn’t even see the paper until now because the flowers finally wilted enough to expose it.”

“Was it really that small?”

“You folded it four times,” you laugh. “Once or twice would have sufficed. And you could have just handed it to me separately. I don’t know why you were so sneaky about it.”

“I thought it would be a cute gesture!” He defends himself. “I was just trying to be romantic.”

“You had the right idea. And hey, I called you eventually.”

“Yeah, just not under the circumstances I expected.”

There’s a thick pause, the silence heavy between you. You know exactly where this conversation should go, but you’re scared to be the one to bring it all up. The longer the silence goes on, though, the more you realize you just need to suck it up and ask the questions you want answers to.

“...How do you feel? About what we did?” You try to keep your voice steady to hide your nervousness. Then you tack on, “I think now would be a good time for us to start being honest with each other.”

He exhales deeply. “I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt more conflicted about something in my life. I’ve spent the last few months preaching to you about morals, and then I brought you into my home, fully aware of the Kryptonite that you are.”

You can’t let him take all of the blame for what happened. You say, “I’m the one that suggested it.”

“Yeah, why did you do that?”

“Because I thought I had something to prove. I swear I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. I genuinely thought that I just needed to one-up your car ride suggestion to show you how okay things were between us.”

“But now here we are.” Another pause, but this one isn’t as long as he willingly confesses to you, “I hate that you left. I absolutely hated it.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have run out like that.” You apologize, but there’s more you want to say. “But… I’m not sorry about what we did."

There. You admit it. As much as you felt the need to apologize to Jiyoo about your behavior the other night, it was empty. You don’t regret it. And if you had the chance to sleep with Hongseok again, you'd do it. It might be wrong, but you honestly couldn't care less. Especially now that you're talking to him, hearing his sweet voice and remembering the way he touched you.

Quietly, he responds, "That makes things quite complicated, doesn't it?"

"How do you feel about it?" You press him, feeling like tonight is the night he’ll actually be frank with you about what he’s thinking.

"It was careless of me to let you into my home, and even more careless of me to give in to my desires. I genuinely thought I could handle being around you, but I can't. I can't be around you, _____. You're far too much of a temptation."

"You say you can't. But you want to be," you push. You're getting him to open up one way or another.

And it works.

"Yes, _____, I want to be around you. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Only if it's the truth."

"It is." Frustration is sharp in his voice. "I've been a wreck thinking about you since you left. I've been absolutely torn up trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do now and wondering how you’ll act in class, if you’ll even show up. And now you just call me out of the blue? Do you know how badly I wanted you to call me this summer?"

You answer with your own question, keeping your voice soft. "I called you as soon as I found your number, didn't I? I swear I would have called you in a heartbeat if I had seen it sooner."

He sighs deeply. "Can you imagine how much harder this semester would have been, though? It was hard enough for us to stay apart this long, and that's after sleeping together only once this summer. We could have potentially built up a lot more… history before the semester started if things had gone differently."

"So you're saying you would have slept with me again if I had called you the next day?" A coy smile comes to your lips and you grip the comforter on your bed.

"If you called me, and that's what you wanted, then of course."

"And the day after that?"

He laughs. "As often as you wanted."

Butterflies stir deep within you. "...and what about now?"

Hongseok is quiet for what feels like a century before he responds. "What is it that you want?"

You bite your lower lip, knowing exactly what you want to say but trying to get up the courage to speak it. Eventually you just force it out. "I want to see you when I'm back from break."

"When do you get back?"

"Sunday afternoon."

"Come over then. I'll be home."

Incredible excitement pulses through you. He's done fighting it. He has given in just as much as you have.

"You'll have to text me your address," you coolly respond.

"I'll do that."

Quiet falls over the line, and you know that there's still something else you need to talk about. "What does all of this mean when it comes to class? It's too late for me to drop and honestly, you haven't done a great job of giving me unbiased grades anyway. You're too good at math for that to have been an accident every time."

"You're right about that, and I apologize again. You, on the other hand, have done a wonderful job keeping me honest."

"Why did you boost my grades, anyway?"

"Because I knew you'd come storming into my office to get it fixed."

"So what, you just wanted to see me?"

"I did."

"You know that was a terrible plan, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"You've really got it bad," you joke. But there's a little bit of weight to it, just a touch of truth.

"And you don't?" He replies, and you feel the same weight in his voice.

You let yourself respond flirtatiously. "How can I not?"

Hongseok lets out a soft chuckle. "We've been screwed since the beginning, I think."

"Agreed," you murmur. "I knew the second I laid eyes on you that I was in trouble."

"It was that easy, huh?"

"It was mostly the tux," you lie. He gets a big ego far too easily.

"Mm. Then what was it the other night? Because I certainly wasn't wearing a tux."

You laugh and shamelessly divulge, "It was the glasses…"

"Really? Those old things?"

"They just looked so… you looked really handsome in them." The blatant compliment is rough on your tongue. It feels weird to so openly tell him that he's attractive.

"Mm," he hums. "I like hearing you say that."

Your already quick heartbeat picks up, but you don't know how to respond. So you just pick up your unfinished train of thought. "Wait, we're getting distracted. How are we going to finish this semester?"

"I swear on my life that I will give you a fair grade. I won't boost it in your favor just to prove my interest, and I also won't lower it if you decide you want nothing to do with me. I understand that I gravely mishandled the first part of this semester, and I just need you to trust that I'll do better this time."

You frown a little. "I want to trust you on that. It at least makes me feel a little better that you were always willing to fix my grade when I told you there was an issue."

"And if you have any further complaints about your grade, we can discuss it. That is always the truth."

"Okay. That makes me feel better." You breathe a little easier. 

"And of course, it goes without saying that this should remain between just the two of us."

You sigh heavily. "Then I'm just gonna come clean right now and let you know that Jiyoo and Hwitaek already know."

"You told them?" Hongseok sounds rigid as ever, and you hope you didn’t just ruin his pleasant attitude by telling him that.

"It was an accident! Jiyoo came up to me spouting about how she knows about everything because you blabbed before, and I thought she meant everything everything, so I accidentally said more than I should have. In my defense, I'm obviously not the first one to talk to them about it so I'd appreciate it if you weren't too harsh about this."

He takes a deep breath, and you hear the clink of ice in his glass as he takes a drink. "They really are nosey--well, Jiyoo, mostly. Hwitaek just gets sucked in."

"She's always been that way," you confide.

Hongseok actually chuckles. "That doesn't surprise me."

"It's still kind of weird to me that you know them so well. And then you ended up being my professor? What are the odds?"

"Mmm… I’d say about one in twenty-seven million, nine-hundred-sixty-seven thousand, six-hundred-thirty-two or so."

You laugh in disbelief. "Don’t tell me that you legitimately just did that math in your head.”

“I mean, I can only take partial credit for that because no, I didn’t do the exact math for our situation. I don’t even know how to start calculating that. But I do know that the average probability of winning a six-number lottery is thirteen million, nine-hundred-eighty-three thousand, eight-hundred-sixteen, and I figure our situation is probably even more rare than that, so I just doubled it. That figure is probably still too low, though.”

“Oh my God,” you just shake your head, laughing. “You’re absurd. You just know the exact probability of winning the lottery? And you just did all of that multiplication in your head? Who does that?”

“I do, _____. I’m a mathematical genius.” Hongseok sounds so serious that you can’t help but laugh a little harder, and he laughs right along with you. "It really is unreal, though. I had no idea that I would cross paths with you at the university,” he continues. “Do you feel okay with all of this?"

"Yeah, I do.” You start to regain your composure. “I feel much better now that we're talking."

"Good. I want you to feel okay, especially if we both want to… move forward with any kind of relations."

You have to roll your eyes at his choice of words. "'Relations'? That's what you went with?"

"Ah, yes. 'Rendezvous' would have been better."

"Oh my God, you're an idiot," you laugh wholeheartedly. 

He chuckles quietly. "What should I say, then? What do you think is more appropriate?"

"Maybe hook-up?" You offer. "Or… bang sesh? Fuck fest?"

That elicits deeper laughter from him. "All good options, I suppose."

"Or if you wanted something a little softer… maybe… a date?"

"I like that suggestion." His voice is warm when he responds, and then more quietly he says, "I was afraid that I ruined everything because of the way you ran out. I thought I went too far and made you regret the whole thing."

Butterflies stir deep in your belly. "You didn't ruin a thing. But I was definitely surprised when you kissed me. And… you said you couldn't stop thinking about me. I had no idea."

"I've spent more time thinking about you than I'd care to admit, if I'm being honest."

You let yourself smile broadly when he says that. It's not like he can see you grinning like a fool, anyway. "What would you think about?" You prod.

"Most of the time, it's your eyes."

"Really?"

"They're so intense, and so honest. It’s unbelievably easy to feel connected to you because of that, even when you’re mad or upset." He softly muses. "And when I'm not thinking about your eyes, I'm thinking about the way you danced with me at the wedding reception. Or the incredible music you make when you sit down at the piano. Your passion is truly amazing."

You appreciate the compliment, but that's not really the type of conversation you're trying to have right now. "And what about when you're alone? What do you think about when you think of me then?"

"Are you looking for something a little more R-rated? Is that what you want?" He teases you. 

You sink a little lower into your bed, humming quietly in agreement. 

"Those are the times when I think about the curve of your body, your clothes on the floor, you pinned under me." He confidently responds.

"Mm… Are you alone now?"

"I am." He responds darkly. "So yes, those are the thoughts currently going through my head."

A delicious flame of pleasure licks at the space between your thighs, and you drag your fingers subconsciously across your throat. "I have very similar thoughts… like thinking about your face buried between my legs." You don't allow yourself to be embarrassed by the bold statement--you're too turned on to think critically, anyway.

“Just you wait until Sunday, _____.” The mellow timbre of his voice has taken on some edge. “I have to warn you, though. I can’t guarantee that I’ll let you leave once you get here.”

“I want you to wreck me, Hongseok. Just absolutely demolish me when I get there.” Your voice becomes increasingly breathy as your hand slides up under your shirt, pushing your bra out of the way and toying with your nipples. Christ, what you wouldn’t do to replace your hand with his right now.

“If you’re going to keep talking like that, I think that can certainly be arranged.”

Pinching your nipple, you let out a soft gasp. All rational thought is very quickly going out the window as your need for release quickly takes over.

“_____, are you touching yourself?”

You know your noises aren’t quiet enough to prevent getting caught, but you’re also not at all guilty about being caught. You let your voice be sultry. “What if I am?”

“Then I just might have to join you,” Hongseok responds, fucking cool as a cucumber like always.

Your stomach twists into a delicious knot--you’d love nothing more than to masturbate with him over the phone. But before you get too carried away, there are a few things you want to take care of first. You abandon your chest, fumbling for the headphones that lie tangled up on your nightstand, knowing that you’re going to want both of your hands free for this. You also stuff a blanket along the bottom of your bedroom door to block the light coming from your room and help muffle any sound--your family should all be asleep by now, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.

“You always get me thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking.” His voice comes through your headphones loud and clear, and your phone buzzes in your hand with the receipt of a text message. “Check your phone.”

You quickly realize the message is from him, and as soon as you open the message, you swallow hard. Hongseok sent you a picture of himself lounging in bed, in nothing but low-slung sweatpants. At the top of the frame you can just barely make out his teeth biting into his plush lower lip, and his muscular abdomen takes up the majority of the screen. But perhaps the most important and eye-catching piece of the whole photo is the unmistakable outline of his hard cock through the fabric of his sweats, emphasized by his hand holding the base and pulling his pants tight against his erection. You have no doubt that he must have taken photos like this a thousand times before because no one is that good at taking sexy shots without some practice.

“F-fuck,” you mumble, completely caught off-guard by the photo. Every thought you have is some combination of you wanting to kiss or lick or bite or suck every inch of him, and you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. “Oh my God, you’re such a tease.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No it’s fucking amazing but Christ, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“Well if you’re open to suggestions, you could maybe send something back.”

You pause for just a second, contemplating, and then respond. “Okay, hold on.”

You know that getting a good photo could easily take you twenty minutes, so you reserve yourself to the fact that you’re just going to have to settle for whatever you can get in the next sixty seconds. You quickly shimmy out of your sweatpants so you’re just in your blue cotton underwear and a graphic tee. You pull up the hem of the shirt to expose a little of your tummy, and then try to snap a picture similar to his. It’s not quite enough, though, so at the last second you decide to slip your fingers into your panties, pulling the band down with your thumb to show off some extra skin.

There. That’s the shot.

“Okay, I’m sending it,” you tell him quietly, your hand oddly shaky as you press Send. 

He hums softly in acknowledgement, and you hear him suck in a breath as soon as he opens the picture. “Fucking hell,” Hongseok groans. “You are so hot it is unbelievable.”

A devilish grin creeps onto your lips. You love that he’s just as floored by you as you are by him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

"For starters, I'll put that rotten mouth of yours to good use. And then--what was it? I'll wreck you. Ruin you. Demolish you. I'll pin you to the wall, the bed, the floor, and I'll stuff you with my cock until you can't think straight."

Jesus Christ this man knows just what to say. You haphazardly push your panties down, kicking them off onto the floor as your fingers graze over your slick pussy. "Too bad we have to wait a whole two days for that."

"I guess I'll just have to fill the time thinking of you and stroking my cock."

His words send a delicious shiver down your spine. "Maybe you'd like to think of how wet I am right now, how easily--aahh--how easily my fingers slip right inside." You glide one finger into your pussy, delighted by the way your nerves completely light up at the sensation. Your other hand returns to your chest, making sure your whole body is tended to.

"Fuck," he chuckles playfully. "You've got me so hard, _____."

"Ugh I just wanna ride you forever." You hear him moan quietly over the line. "Are you touching yourself, too?"

"Of course I am. How can I not when you paint such a lewd picture of yourself in my head?"

"I'm fingering myself and wishing you were here, Hongseok. I wanna be strewn out, completely wasted because I'm so drunk on you."

"Tell me what you're doing, _____."

"I've got one finger pumping slowly in and out of my pussy. My palm--nggh--is pressing against my clit. And my other hand is up my shirt, pinching my nipple. It feels so good, Hongseok, oh my God…" You start to get carried away in the pleasure you create for yourself, and you struggle to keep focused.

"I want you here so badly," Hongseok groans, and you know it's because of his pleasure. "I swear I have never in my life wanted anything as much as I want you right now."

Your heart flutters uncontrollably. How does he always manage to make these moments feel romantic? You desperately want to respond, I'm all yours if you want me to be, Hongseok, but it feels too heavy. Too laden with emotion. You swallow all of that down and respond with a much safer, "Tell me what you're doing right now, Hongseok."

"I'm thrusting my cock into my fist and desperately wishing it was your pussy instead, wishing I could fill my hands with your ass and occupy my lips with yours."

You whimper at his words. Imagining him fucking his hand drives you absolutely wild, especially when accompanied with such sweet words. And you can hear his hard breathing, his deep dulcet tones as he tells you exactly what you want to hear.

Hongseok continues, "My cock is throbbing in my hand, fuck, I wanna be inside of you so bad."

"I'm dying to feel your cock again," you moan quietly, careful to keep your volume low. As you slip in another finger, you feel the deep pressure that you know precedes some of your most amazing orgasms. Oh, this is gonna be good. "Fuck, Hongseok…"

He moans softly too, murmuring your name as he pleasures himself. "I want to feel your wet pussy squeezing my cock," he groans. "What do you think, _____?"

"I want it, Hongseok, I want you to…" You're cut off by the buzzing of your phone.

"Check your phone," Hongseok breathily commands.

You release your nipple and pick up your phone with one hand, the other coming to a standstill with two fingers still pressed inside you. Electric anticipation shoots through you at the thought of receiving another dirty photo from him.

But this time, it's not a photo.

Hongseok sent you a video.

With a shaky hand you press play, and you're immediately drowning in lust. The video shows his hand tightly gripping his cock as it moves up and down the shaft, slick with spit or lube or something. You hear him hum your name in the video's sound. 

"I want to feel your wet pussy squeezing my cock," he groaned, and it sounds even more filthy and amazing because he recorded it. And then the video shifts up his torso and to his stunningly handsome face. Hongseok stares right into the camera, flicks his tongue across his lower lip, and asks, "What do you think, _____?"

You watch it again, open-mouthed in shock and practically imploding. Not only is the video the single most sexy thing you've ever seen, but he was brave enough to send you his face? If you wanted to, you could use this video alone to turn him in to the school. He literally just handed you blackmail.

You would never, ever in a million years use this video for that purpose, though. It's just amazing to you that he would trust you so much to send you such incriminating content.

"Hongseok," you finally speak. "You are so unbelievably perfect."

"Hardly," he lets out a soft, low chuckle. "I'm just horny out of my mind right now."

"Me too, and fuck it feels so good."

"I want to see you, _____."

Your breath catches in your throat. You've never taken a video of yourself like that before, and it sends a dangerous thrill through you that he's asking for one. And as you pick up your phone, you see the call screen, and you notice that small little camera--the tiniest suggestion that you could change this call to a video call at any moment. 

And then you dare to press it.

The phone rings again as you wait for Hongseok to answer the video call, and you're wholly unprepared to see his face when he picks up.

He looks at his phone for a moment, just looking at you, and then the most beautiful smile breaks across his face. "Hey."

Every organ in your chest is an absolute wreck. "Hey," you echo. 

"This isn't quite what I expected when I said I wanted to see you, but I'll take it."

"It's convenient though, isn't it?" Your walls involuntarily clench around your fingers, reminding you of your need for release. "Let me… show you."

You lower the phone to skim down your body--although your top half is still covered by your t-shirt so you're really not showing much--and when you get down to the hand tucked between your legs, you lift one leg and wrap your arm around it to get a good shot of your pussy. Your fingers press deep into your slit, and you moan for Hongseok.

"Shit, _____, you look so good. I wish I could taste you."

You pull out your fingers and separate them, showing him the strings of your wetness that spread between your digits. "That's what you want?" And then you bring your hand and your phone up towards your face, putting on your best sultry eyes as you twirl your tongue around the tips of your fingers.

Hongseok groans, "Oh Christ," and then he shows you his cock, forcing you to plunge your fingers back inside your pussy out of sheer desperation.

"Hongseok, I wanna cum so bad," you whimper. You can feel it building deep within you, and you just need something to push you over the edge. And honestly, watching him work his cock might just be enough.

You feel absolutely depraved watching him stroke himself, curling your fingers into your pussy as you masturbate together. It's delightfully sinful and you're obsessed with the way it makes you feel. 

"Hong… Hongseok…" you moan his name, forcing your eyes to stay open so that you can keep your focus on his hard length. The coil in your abdomen tightens to its limit, and you're entirely aware that the dam is about to break. You struggle to keep your pussy in frame, as you push yourself over the edge. "Watch, watch! I'm coming…"

And just like that, your whole pussy convulses and you abruptly pull out your fingers, watching as you squirt all over your bed. It's nearly impossible to prevent your moaning, so you do your best to keep the volume down as you explode.

Hongseok sounds just as pleased as you thought he might be when you hear a string of expletives come over the line. But even his words are broken up with soft grunts and almost-moans. "I didn't know… you could do that."

"Sometimes," you laugh, quite out of breath from the water show. "Do you like it?"

"Of course I do," his hand picks up its pace. "I want to make you squirt next time."

"You can do that," you acknowledge. Even after your release, you notice that your clit isn't at all sensitive and you are still pretty turned on. So you keep your hand down there, absentmindedly rubbing circles into your bud.

It's not long before you feel the need to engage your hips. You start thrusting up against your fingers, but you want something more.

"I need your cock," you moan to him, partially convinced that his body is the only thing you’re missing. 

"I can't even tell you how badly I want to give it to you," he responds in a dark, sultry tone. On camera, he starts to thrust up into his hand instead of just stroking it, and you think it looks absolutely amazing. You thrust your hips in time with his, but you need more.

Less-than-gracefully, you climb up onto your hands and knees, propping your phone up against your headboard. He gets a nice tall shot of you kneeling on the bed, legs spread and strings of juices hanging from your pussy, and you hear him groan something about how he loves this view.

You grab your pillow and fold it in half for extra height before tucking it between your legs and spreading your folds so that your clit rubs directly against the pillowcase. You ruthlessly hump your pillow, eyes completely trained on your phone so you don't miss a second of Hongseok's jerking. 

"Christ, you're unbelievably sexy. That is so hot, _____," Hongseok groans. His hand twists the head of his cock before plunging back down the shaft, his arm muscles bulging as he quickly jerks off. You can see his cock rapidly twitching, pulsing extra hard as he approaches orgasm. 

“Think about me riding you, Hongseok,” you quietly moan, trying to encourage him to climax. “Think about burying your cock in my pussy and grabbing my hips and filling me up with your cum.”

“Is that what you want?” His breathing is ragged. “You want me to cum inside you?”

“Yes, I want it,” you confess, and you know it’s the truth. You’ve fantasized about letting him fuck you raw so he can feel every inch of you as he cums. You’re dying to know what that feels like.

“Fucking Christ…” Hongseok’s hand moves a little faster, strokes a little deeper, until it’s clear that he can’t hold back anymore. “_____…”

With just a few more pumps, Hongseok finally releases, his throaty moans accompanying each rope of cum that shoots up onto his chest. Between the sounds and the visual he provides, you simply cannot handle yourself.

“Hongseok,” you murmur his name. You continue to grind against your pillow, blissfully soaking it with your juices. The delicious tension in your abdomen is too much--it's coiled too tightly and it's going to snap any second now. 

Your eyes squeeze shut so you can better imagine Hongseok lying beneath you, his calloused hands grasping your waist as you rock and grind your hips. 

"_____, you're perfect. Fucking perfect. Ride me, _____." He seems to play along with the fantasy in your head, inching you closer until you finally break. 

Pure, blissful pleasure rushes through you like adrenaline as you orgasm, roughly dragging your clit over the cotton of your pillowcase. It takes everything in you to keep quiet, and your thighs tremble with each powerful wave.

And when you finally open your eyes, you see Hongseok watching you with so much adoration it makes you want to cry. 

"That was amazing," you pant, breathing hard from the exertion of your orgasm. 

"It was amazing to watch, too." Hongseok beams. "I am so attracted to you it kills me."

You collapse onto your bed, tossing your pillow aside and picking up your phone. Hongseok genuinely appears to be glowing, and you can't help but wonder if he sees you the same way. You just smile and say, "I can't wait to see you."

"Neither can I," he responds warmly. He takes a moment to wipe the cum off of his chest with a towel, and then he settles back into his bed, lying on his side and gazing sweetly at you through his phone. "I can't tell you how badly I want to kiss you right now."

"I wish you could. Man, you're such a good kisser."

“Sunday. I’ll kiss you all I want on Sunday.”

It’s weird how much you wish you could just reach through the phone and touch him, run your fingers over his cheek, brush his hair out of his eyes. Your heart pounds as your eyes skim over his face, taking in his beautiful image. He makes you feel so warm and happy. It’s undeniable that you’ve got feelings for him. And so you don’t even think twice before the words come out of your mouth: “I like you, Hongseok. I don’t care that you’re my professor. I’m done worrying about that because I just like you and I want you and that’s all there is to it.”

It’s true. One-hundred percent.

Hongseok’s smile is small and sweet, but bursting with tenderness. “I like you too, _____. I don’t care about you being my student, either. We’ll make this work for us.”

“Mhm.” The fluttering in your chest is endless, and you know this couldn’t feel more right. “We’ll make it work.”

You both stay on the line as you turn off lights and tuck into bed. Hongseok talks to you about nothing, and your mind is finally at ease as your eyelids start to become heavy with sleep. His voice is a lullaby and when you finally fall asleep, you dream of nothing but the warmth of his arms.

POST SCRIPT | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 11, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © GWENTORYFICS. NO TRANSLATIONS, REPOSTING, AND/OR MODIFYING OF THE MATERIAL IS ALLOWED WITHOUT MY DIRECT PERMISSION.

[wheresmynaya]

Lost in the Lights Ch.1 | Brittana

Looks like I’m back at it again! Honestly it’s only because it’s currently (American) football season and I’ve been wanting to write QB!Britt for SO LONG and Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince gave me lots of feelings about it.

 Also the Steelers are still undefeated so I’ve been in a good mood. 

Summary: Brittany S. Pierce is new to WMHS and quickly finds that the students there aren't as open-minded as the ones she's used to, especially when she takes over as the Titans' starting quarterback. Many heads are turned including Cheerios Co-Captain Santana Lopez who has some obstacles of her own to tackle.

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) 

Once Brittany taped up the last box and set it aside for the movers to take, she took the rare moment she had alone and reminisced. She knew this day was bound to come. Since her father’s passing earlier in the year, Brittany’s mother – Whitney – had begun making the arrangements to move closer to Brittany’s grandparents in Ohio. Aside from a handful of friends, they didn’t really have anyone else close by and with Brittany’s little brother – Pete – still too young to stay home alone and Brittany busy with school, Whitney needed the extra help.

The move made sense, but Brittany dreaded it in silence. She was going into her Senior year and being the new kid at school wasn’t how she planned on spending it. She kept her feelings in check though as she boxed up her whole life and said goodbye.

Brittany didn’t want to make things harder by digging in her heels, so she put on a brave face for the sake of her family and finished her Junior year without making any complaints. Instead, Brittany did everything she could to help make the transition a little easier.

With a light knock on Brittany’s door, Whitney made her presence known.

“You ready to go, Britt?” Whitney asked gently.

Brittany could feel her throat tightening. Was she ready? The answer was obvious and deep down, Whitney knew that. She closed the distance and gave her daughter a hug.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Whitney whispered.

Brittany just nodded and held on tighter.

\\

It had been a long drive and it seemed like everything started to look a little greener the further they got from the coast. Even the trees changed from the bushy palms Brittany grew up with to tall oaks, but after what felt like a million hours the Pierce Family finally made it to their destination.

“It’s a good looking house, right kids?” Whitney asked cheerfully as the family stretched their achy limbs in front of their new home.

It wasn’t anything special, just a typical three bedroom, two bath. The siding was white, the shutters were blue and the wooden fence looked relatively knew. At a quick glance, the house looked like any other on the block. Brittany didn’t have any complaints though and when she glanced down at Pete, neither did he.

“It’s cute,” Brittany agreed with a smile then nudged her brother, “What do you think, Petey?”

“I like the windows,” Pete pointed up at the shutters, “Blue’s my favorite color.”

“Mine too,” Brittany winked.

“Well, go pick your rooms,” Whitney instructed.

She didn’t get a chance to tell them that they were the exact same size, one just faces the backyard and the other faces the front. The two took off towards the house giggling the whole way while Whitney just shook her head and trailed after them.

\\

It took them a couple weeks to settle into their new place with the help of Brittany’s grandparents, but it was finally starting to feel like home even if she felt like something was missing.

Or rather, someone.

Some nights she could hear the soft whimpers coming from her mother’s room and some nights Petey makes his way into Brittany’s bed because the dreams keep him up at night. Everyone misses him and that makes the transition a little harder. The nights are usually hard for everyone, but they manage to get by together.

It’s better during the day when it’s light out and there’s less time to overthink things. An Ohio summer has nothing on a Florida one, but Brittany doesn’t complain about that either. She can catch a tan wherever the sun shines, so she does just that.

She and Pete find a park within walking distance of their house and visit often while Whitney is out job hunting. Most days, Pete has more energy than Brittany can keep up with so the park really comes in handy. On the rare occasion, Pete sometimes would rather sit with Brittany on a blanket under one of the big trees there and color.

Sometimes, Brittany joins him because as Pete would say, “You’re never too old for coloring.”

\\

One day while they’re at the park, Brittany spots a couple of guys that look to be around her age. They’re a little ways away, tossing a football back and forth. She can just barely hear their voices, but they’re muffled and mix with the sound of her music playing from her phone.

“How’s this look, Britt?” Pete asks as he holds up his coloring book.

Brittany nods, “Excellent color choice for the hair.”

“I thought so too,” Pete grins and goes back to his scribbling while Brittany lazily flips through the latest issue of Sports Illustrated.

She switches from reading articles to watching the guys play. She notes their form and posture and she can’t help but critique them. Their throws are pretty average, but they aren’t too bad and she goes back to reading.

“Watch out!” Brittany hears one of the guys yell. She braces herself and holds out a protective arm over Pete’s head. Soon a football bounces down just a couple feet away from her blanket and rolls to a wobbly stop beside her.

“Way to go, Sam! You almost hit them,” The lean guy yells back to the shaggy-haired blonde.

“I thought you had that!”

“It was overthrown! Do you think I’m seven feet tall?”

“You could’ve jumped.”

“This is why you’re third string when we don’t even have a second.”

“Whatever Mike, I’m just having an off day,” The blonde grumbles as he trails his friend.

“You always say that,” Mike shakes his head and starts to jog over to Brittany and Pete, “Sorry about that!”

“That’s alright,” Brittany smiles as she reaches for the ball and pushes to stand. The leather feels familiar in her hands and it’s just now that she realizes she hasn’t picked up a ball in so long. Her fingers automatically slide into position between the laces though like they’re magnets being drawn together.

Brittany sets her eyes on Mike and draws her arm back to throw a perfect spiral.

The pass connects with the intended target – obviously – but the looks on both of the guys’ faces is priceless. Brittany smiles proudly as they whoop and holler. She didn’t realize she kind of misses that.

“Show off,” Pete teases though he matches her proud smile.

“That was an awesome throw!” Mike applauds as he rushes over, “Like Woah! Sorry, I’m Mike. That’s my friend, Sam.”

Sam’s still a little ways away but he waves as he jogs over, his blonde shaggy hair bouncing with every step. He kind of reminds Brittany of a golden retriever, eager and a little dorky.

“I’m Brittany,” Brittany greets and pats Pete’s head, “This is my brother, Pete. We just moved here.”

“Oh, I think we’re neighbors!” Mike grins, “The house with the blue shutters?”

“Yeah, that’s us.”

Sam finally joins the group, “Great throw! Can you do that again?”

Brittany shrugs casually, “Yeah. Probably.”

Mike and Sam drop their jaws in disbelief.

“My sister’s a quarterback,” Pete informs them, “She’s the best at school.”

“I was the best at our old school,” Brittany corrects and ruffles up his blonde hair.

“You were a,” Sam blinks, “I’ve never met a girl quarterback.”

Brittany tries to keep from gritting her teeth at the way he says girl. She knows he didn’t mean any disrespect, but it still makes her skin crawl. She forgets that some places aren’t as progressive as her old school, so she keeps the polite smile on her face.

“You have to try out,” Sam insists, “You’re better than half of those guys and no girl has ever tried out before. It would be so cool!”

“You saw me throw one time,” Brittany chuckles.

“Exactly, that’s how much we suck!”

“Hey!” Mike shakes his head and gives Brittany an encouraging smile, “You’d be great on the team.”

Mike seems genuine enough, they both do, but Brittany’s unsure of how she’ll be received here. She’s already going to be the new kid in school, she didn’t really want to add on to that by being the first girl to try out for the team.

“I don’t know,” Brittany looks unsure and glances down at Pete, “I wasn’t planning on playing this year.”

“You’ve got to,” Mike adds, “You have a killer arm.”

“Would totally bench Hudson,” Sam jokes with Mike.

Mike nods, “Without a doubt.”

“Is Hudson your current QB?” Brittany wonders.

“Yeah, for three years and we haven’t made a single playoffs appearance,” Sam answers with the shake of his head.

“Sam was going to try and play him for the starting position,” Mike explains, “Clearly he needs some work though.”

Sam scoffs and punches at Mike’s shoulder.

“Clearly,” Brittany chuckled. She liked these guys. They were kind of dorks but harmless and they seemed friendly.

“Well, we don’t want to pressure you if you don’t want to play,” Mike says a little more seriously, “But if you change your mind, try-outs are next Tuesday at William McKinley High at noon. See Coach Beiste.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Brittany replies, “Thanks.”

“Cool. Well, how about one more for the road?” Mike suggests and holds out the ball to Brittany.

Brittany was happy to oblige and slaps her palm against the leather, “Go long.”

The guys took off running, playfully shoving at each other as Brittany took her stance and got into position. She let them get a few more yards further before drawing back and letting the ball fly.

Again, it was a perfect throw.

When Sam caught it this time, Mike cheered while Sam did a celebratory dance. It wasn’t the smoothest thing Brittany had ever seen, but it was the funniest and it had her and Pete laughing harder than they had in awhile.

\\

That night at the dinner table with Whitney, Pete talked animatedly about his and Brittany’s day. Brittany always loved how excited he got about the smallest things and he always told stories with so much detail. They were worried that it would fade with their dad’s passing but Pete was still so full of love and light.

“We made friends at the park today too!” Pete said which piqued Whitney’s interest.

“Oh really?” Whitney smiled and looked to Brittany, “Making friends already?”

“I wouldn’t call them that,” Brittany chuckled as she picked mindlessly at her plate, “A couple guys from the high school here were playing catch. Apparently one of them is our neighbor too.”

“Mike!” Pete clarified.

“Yeah, Mike and Sam. They tried talking me into trying out for the football team,” Brittany explained, “I don’t think I’m going to play this year though.”

“What? Why not?” Whitney asked worriedly, “You’ve played every year since middle school.”

“I know, but I want to be able to help out here if you need me to,” Brittany reasons and glances over at Pete, “I don’t want to get stuck with football like I always do.”

“You love it, Britt, and you’re good at it,” Whitney tells her, “You should try out.”

“What about Pete?” Brittany questions, “No one will be home when he finishes school.”

“Gran will pick him up,” Whitney suggests easily.

“But – “

“No buts,” Whitney gives her a stern look, “It’s your Senior year and you love the game. If you want to play, you should. Isn’t that what your dad always said?”

Brittany feels something clench in the pit of her stomach and she isn’t sure if it’s a good feeling or a bad one. She can still hear her dad’s voice gently guiding her and maybe that’s what helps her decide this time too.

“Okay yeah, I’ll try out,” Brittany announces and it’s the first time she finally feels like herself again since moving to Ohio.

\\

It’s a muggy Summer’s day when Brittany arrives at her new school for try-outs. She can already feel all eyes on her as she walks through the gate and joins the others on the field. She spots Mike and Sam with a few others and they wave at her while the others give her curious looks. Brittany gives them a nod but stays focused. It feels like it’s a hundred degrees there, but she’s use to the heat after growing up in Florida. She stands tall with her chin held high as she makes her way over to the Coach.

She’s pleasantly surprised when she finds that the Coach is also a woman.

“Coach Beiste?”

“Cheerios try-outs are held in the gym,” The woman tells her without a second glance.

Brittany bites her lip and tries to shake the nerves, “I’m not here for a cereal ad, Coach. I want to try-out for the team.”

The woman pauses and eyes Brittany curiously as she says, “This is football try-outs.”

“I know,” Brittany nods resolutely, “I’ve played before.”

“Position?”

“Quarterback.”

Coach looks impressed, “What string?”

Brittany smirks, “I was the starter.”

The woman blinks and it’s similar to the look Sam gave her.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Brittany. Brittany S. Pierce.”

“You just move here or something?” Beiste asks as she jots down Brittany’s name on the clipboard, “I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yes,” Brittany nods, “I just moved here from Florida.”

“Alright. Well, you won’t get any special treatment on my field,” Beiste tells her sternly, “You’ll run the drills, same as everyone else and I’ll see how you go. You throw up, it’s an automatic out.”

“Of course,” Brittany grins, “I don’t want it any other way.”

\\

It’s no surprise to Brittany when she aces try-outs. She’s always been pretty athletic and she starts every morning with a run so she’s in tip-top shape and breezes through the drills. Even the team’s resident quarterback – Finn Hudson – struggles to keep up with the others. Brittany notes how uncoordinated his movements are and starts to understand why the team hasn’t made a playoff appearance.

Finn’s saving grace though is that he has a pretty good arm, but Brittany is confident that hers is better. Actually, she knows it is. If they’re going to compare stats, Brittany has him beat in every category but she lets her talent speak for itself. No one likes a cocky new kid on the block.

“You’re promising, Pierce,” Coach Beiste tells her after the third day of try-outs, “Between you and me, you can run circles around Hudson and I have no doubt you can outshine him.”

“I appreciate that, Coach.”

“But, he’s been our starter for nearly three years now. He’s got the team’s respect and trust,” Coach Beiste reasons.

Brittany nods. She hates how she has to start from scratch here. At her old school, she didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, they just knew she was talented because they grew up with her. Here, they don’t know anything about her and that puts her at a real disadvantage.

“You can’t just come in like a bat outta hell and snatch it from him,” Coach continues, “You’re going to have to play for it; prove yourself to me and the team that you can do a better job. You’ve got to really earn this.”

Brittany saw that coming too so she nods, “I understand.”

“I took a look at your record. I hope you don’t mind,” Coach Beiste says, “It’s very impressive, Pierce. I haven’t seen talent like yours in awhile around here. I almost forgot what it was like to see stats like yours.”

“Thank you. I’ve been playing for a long time.”

“I can tell, so this is what I’m going to do. There’s a pre-season game coming up,” Beiste tells her, “I want to put you in, see what you can do. If I like what I see, you might just be able to nudge Hudson out. There are a lot of Seniors on this team, I know they’d love to see the Championships and I think you can get them there.”

“I know I can,” Brittany says without a second thought.

Coach pats her hard on the shoulder pad, “That’s what I like to hear. Go get cleaned up.”

\\

While Brittany gets packed up a little while later, she feels someone standing close by. She waits for some off-handed comment – she’s heard a few of the guys mumble them under their breath – but it never comes. She figures it’s either Mike or Sam but when she turns, it’s neither of them.

“Hi,” The guy greets. His voice is meek, almost angelic and it takes Brittany by surprise.

“Hi,” Brittany smiles back though as she stands.

“I’m Kurt,” He says and does a showy kick, “I’m the kicker.”

Brittany notes his small stature compared to the other guys. There’s not an ounce of muscle on him it looks like, typical for someone on special teams.

“I’m Brittany,” She replies, “Not sure what I am just yet.”

“I hope you’re going to be our knew QB,” Kurt grins and takes a seat next to Brittany’s duffle as she continues packing up, “I’m rooting for you. I know there are a few others that are too, they just don’t want you to know about it. I don’t really understand the point, we all want to win.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure,” Kurt nods and starts to admire Brittany’s keychain, “Oh! We play for the same team.”

“Obviously or this would be pretty embarrassing,” Brittany says with a straight face.

“No, I meant – “

Brittany grins slyly as she watches his face turn red. She glances down at her rainbow unicorn keychain in his hand and meets his gaze, “I know what you meant.”

Kurt laughs it off awkwardly and tries to recover, “It’s nice to finally have someone to talk to on the team.”

Brittany can hear just a hint of sadness in his tone and looks up, “They don’t talk to you?”

“They do, but it’s not the same. We don’t have much in common. All they want to talk about are video games and hot chicks,” Kurt scrunches his nose like there’s a bad taste in his mouth but then he looks at Brittany and relaxes, “Then again, you might be able to relate with that last one.”

Brittany chuckles as she reties up her hair, “You think so?”

Kurt eyes her and nods to the keychain again, “I don’t know many female quarterbacks that are straight. Actually, I don’t know any female quarterbacks.” Kurt ponders for a moment then looks to Brittany apologetically, “I’m sorry, that was intrusive. I apologize.”

Brittany gives him a pat on the knee as she stands. She pulls up her heavy duffle and adjusts the strap on her shoulder, “You’re not wrong, but I’m here to play football. Not drool over girls, no matter how pretty they are.”

Kurt smiles, “Good to hear. It would be nice to win for a change.”

“I’ll do my best,” Brittany tells him, “I’ll see you at practice.”

\\

Whitney and Pete are in the stands along with Brittany’s grandparents on the day of the game against Crawford County Day. Brittany’s been sitting on the bench for a whole quarter and her knees are bouncing at the opportunity to get on the field.

She watches her team in action and it’s almost embarrassing how ununified they are. It’s like no one’s taking charge – no one’s leading – and it hurts to watch.

“Blitz! Blitz!” Coach yells, “Watch the blitz!”

Brittany can see it coming, but Finn doesn’t change plays.

The ball is hiked and Finn hands it off to their Running Back – Noah Puckerman – but the defense slips through from all sides. Puckerman is swallowed up in an instant.

It’s a loss of three yards, third down.

Brittany glances over at Coach and her face is beet red.

The next play is even worse. It’s meant to be a simple slant pass, but the lack of communication between Finn and the receivers – Mike and Sam – has everyone on different pages. When Finn drops back, no one is open and the pocket collapses in on him for a sack.

Brittany cringes at the hard hit and shakes her head.

“Damn it, Hudson!” Coach snaps and throws her hat on the ground.

The Titans finish the half down by 13 points.

\\

It’s the longest twenty-minute halftime Brittany has ever endured. Coach just tears into the team for being so sloppy. Apparently Crawford County Day is meant to be one of the easiest teams on their roster so the fact that the Titans are behind already isn’t really a good sign.

“Good thing this is just a scrimmage!” Beiste yells, “I’ve never seen so many poorly executed plays in my entire career. What the hell was that out there?”

“They’ve gotten better, Coach.”

Brittany presses her lips tight together to keep from laughing at Finn’s excuse.

“I am captain of the U.S.S. Kick Ass, not the U.S.S. Back Talk,” Beiste said pointedly and looked at Brittany, “Pierce, your starting.”

“Wait, Coach!” Finn argued, “You can’t start her, she’s…she’s –“

Brittany arched her brow at him, waiting for a lame insult to come tumbling out.

“She’s gunning for your job, Hudson,” Beiste cut in.

“You can’t be serious!” Finn crossed his arms, “We don’t even know if she can play.”

“You just keep your eyes on me then,” Brittany smirked as she pulled on her helmet, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Woah!” Sam cheered and high fived Mike.

“Shut up,” Puck shoved at them both, “Have some respect.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kurt replied meekly.

Puck rounded on him, “What was that, Hummel?”

Kurt just lifted a dainty hand and admired his nails quietly.

Brittany just smirked. Maybe she didn’t have the entire team on her side yet, but she liked her odds so far.

\\

At first, things were a little rocky. It seemed that the offense wasn’t use to someone taking charge – they weren’t use to her taking charge – but Brittany kept at it and it started to pay off.

Once she got into her groove, she could read the defense so easily and adjust accordingly. She’d hear the grunts of disbelief whenever she’d call an audible, but by the last quarter she felt like she had finally made ground and gained some of the team’s trust.

Because by the last quarter, the Titans were up by 3 points.

She could play it safe with just seconds to go, but this was just a scrimmage and she wanted to make a lasting impression. She didn’t just want to win with a field goal attempt, she was confident that she could put more points on the board before the final.

Brittany straightened up and motioned for a timeout. The ref blew the whistle and Brittany gathered the team for a huddle. She took out her mouthguard and looked around at her teammates.

“I want to try Blue 80,” Brittany tells them.

“You’re ballsy, Pierce!” Matt Rutherford – the Tight End – said but it came out as a compliment.

Mike and Sam looked between each other before Mike spoke up, “We’ve never made a completion with this play.”

“Guess we should change that,” Brittany shrugged.

“You really want to blow the lead?” Dave Karofsky – the Right Guard – mocked.

“It’s the last play of the game,” Sam defended, “The worse that could happen is it gets intercepted and they run it all the way –“

“Shut up, Evans!” Azimio – the Left Guard – snapped, “Don’t jinx us.”  

“It’s all or nothing,” Brittany reasoned, “Scared QBs don’t make plays and I think we can put more points on the board. You with me?”

She held out her gloved fist and waited for the other’s to join her.

Puck was the first to hold out his fist, “You pull this off, Pierce, and I’ll tell Finn myself that you’re the better QB.”

“You’re on,” Brittany smirked and watched as the rest of the team joined her, “Titans on three. One…two…three!”

“Titans!” They yelled out in unison. Brittany was impressed, she was already making them a more cohesive team.

\\

Everyone got into their positions, what looked to be a simple running play. The defense fell right for it and adjusted accordingly. When the ball was snapped, Brittany faked the hand off to Puck and swiftly dropped back, watching as the other team went after him instead of realizing she still had the ball in her possession.

Meanwhile, Mike and Sam broke away from their defenders and jetted up the field. Both were wide open, but Mike crossed into the endzone just before Sam did. While the pocket still held, Brittany made her decision and let the ball fly before it could collapse in on her.

She hoped and wished and prayed to anyone who was listening that Mike would catch this thing. So much was riding on this; the team’s trust, their respect, solidifying her position as the new quarterback. Mike needed to catch this.

The relief she felt when he did was unmatched!

The crowd roared and Brittany’s chest swelled with pride. She glanced up at the sky and smiled, her dad would’ve loved that play.

Soon she was swarmed by her new team and they hoisted her up on their shoulders as they chanted her name, “Pierce! Pierce! Pierce!”

“Hate to say it, bro,” Puck said as they carried Brittany off to the sideline where Finn was close to throwing a tantrum, “But the girl’s got mad skill. She’s got my vote.”

“Who cares about a vote. That’s not how we do things,” Finn scoffs, “It’s up to Coach.”

“Easy, Hudson, you could learn a lot from her. Kid’s on fire,” Coach Beiste smiled proudly and patted Brittany on her helmet, “You got the job, Pierce. Titans, your new quarterback.”

“Thanks, Coach!” Brittany grinned while most of the team cheered.

\\

After the game once everyone had changed out of their uniforms, Brittany was surprised to see Puck approach her with an interesting offer.

“Yo Pierce! Wait up,” He called after her.

“Hey,” Brittany nodded.

“I’m throwing a party this weekend before school starts up again,” He says, “I wasn’t going to invite you because didn’t know if you were cool yet.”

Brittany gives him an unbelieving look but it goes over his head.

“The whole team’s going and considering you’re our QB now I figured it was only right that I let you in on it,” Puck then gave her a sly grin, “Lots of hot babes will be there if that’s your thing. Is it your thing?”

Brittany chose to ignore the question, “Thanks for the invite. I’ll try to swing by if I can.”

“Not to brag, but my parties are usually pretty awesome,” Puck flaunted, “If you want to start off on the right foot at this school – being the new kid and all – you’re gonna want to show up.”

She couldn’t decide if that was meant to be a threat or that he just sucks at persuading, but Brittany shrugged it off. She was beginning to get the impression that Lima might live up to the stereotype of being a small town.

Brittany didn’t waver though, “I’ll keep that in mind, Puck. I’ll see you around.”

\\\\\

As a Cheerios Co-Captain, Santana Lopez knew that there were certain social obligations that she had to keep up with. One of those obligations being the End of Summer party Puck always threw. Only the top dogs of McKinley were allowed to attend and if you didn’t it was basically social suicide.

With everything that happened last year, Santana couldn’t afford to miss it no matter how much she hated going. It was like her reputation had been in freefall and she was barely holding on. She couldn’t have that – not for her Senior year – so she sucked it up and told her parents she was sleeping over her best friend’s house.

Quinn Fabray – the other Co-Captain of the Cheerios – was the only person it seemed like that kept Santana sane. They considered themselves the hottest bitches McKinley had to offer and most of the student body couldn’t help but agree. They had the looks, the smarts, the snark; they were the perfect duo and were set on ruling the school.

Santana hoped that last year was just a minor blip in their legacy. She had high hopes coming into Senior year, she already felt like she had hit rock bottom and she was over feeling sorry for herself.

The best way to feel on top again? Attend Puck’s party.

Of course, it was easier said than done.

\\

The music is loud and there are people everywhere. Honestly, Santana has no idea how these things have never been shut down. She thinks maybe the dopes down at the Lima Police Department are just too swamped with real crime-fighting to deal with Puck and his shenanigans for the millionth time.  

That’s obviously a joke. Nothing interesting ever happens in Lima, the LPD are just a bunch of lazy fucks who apparently don’t care about a couple dozen kids drinking underage.

Santana sits with Quinn at the edge of Puck’s pool and they just people-watch as they dangle their feet in the cool water. It’s a hot night and there are already a couple drunken idiots wading in the shallow end, singing along to the music at the top of their lungs.

She looks down at her red solo cup and swirls the amber liquid. She barely has a buzz so she takes another gulp in hopes that she’ll catch up and finally start enjoying the party.

Quinn watches her wearily but does the same. Neither of them want to be there but appearances are important, especially to them.

Speaking of appearances, Santana spots a leggy blonde across the way through the glass double-doors. She’s dressed casually in cut-off jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Santana raises her brow; she wishes she could show up to a party looking like that. It took her an hour alone to do her make up, let alone pick out the right outfit.

Santana continues to watch her – though she feels a little weird for it. She’s never seen the girl around here before and decides that’s the reason why she can’t take her eyes off of her – she’s just curious. A little piece of her deep down inside calls her out for lying.

Still, Santana just assumes the blonde came with one of the football players since that’s who she seems to gravitate to. She notices the familiar faces from the football team – Sam Evans in particular – and watches as he hands the blonde a red cup.

The girl smiles in return and wow, Santana’s a little star-struck by its brilliance. Sam must’ve said something dorky because now the girl’s laughing and shaking her head at him. Santana’s never seen someone so effortlessly beautiful and she has to bite her cheek to keep from smiling too. This girl, she has one of those infection kind of smiles and it’s trouble.

Mike Chang walks up next and clinks his cup against the girl’s and together they begin to chat.

Santana quickly glances to Quinn to catch her reaction. Mike and Quinn aren’t exactly official, but it’s obvious they have a thing for each other.

Quinn’s not looking though and Santana feels a little relief. She can’t deal with a jealous Quinn tonight, and a little part of her doesn’t want this new girl to have to deal with that either.

When Santana glances back, she recognizes Sugar Motta – McKinley’s resident Richie Bitch – pulling the blonde girl in to dance and suddenly Santana’s watching a little too closely.

This girl can clearly dance and the way she moves with Sugar is so graceful. Sugar on the other hand isn’t as fluid, but their hands smooth over each other teasingly. When the blonde’s hands land on Sugar’s hips, they start to sway together and Santana can just tell that the blonde’s the one leading now.

Santana can feel this coil within her tightening the longer she watches, her mouth getting drier at the way she takes control.

Then the song changes and the two laugh and carry on so carefreely as if nothing happened. Their moves mimic the steady rhythm and they start to bounce with their fists pumping at the air in time to the pounding bass.

Santana frowns at the slight pang of jealousy; she used to be like that, so uncaring and full of life. She danced with whoever she wanted – boy or girl – and it didn’t matter, but now…now it does.

“Who’s she?” Quinn asks, her gazing lining up with the blonde talking to Sugar.

“No idea.”

“Should I ask around?”

“No!” Santana blurts and Quinn eyes her suspiciously. Santana adjusts, “No. I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later. She’s hanging around Sugar and you know she can’t keep her mouth shut for more than two seconds.”

Quinn smirks, “True.”

\\

When Puck finally rears his ugly mug, Santana’s surprised they were able to dodge him for so long.

“Hey ladies,” He greets with his signature smirk, “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

There are beer stains on his open button-down and Santana can smell the tanning oil on him from where she sits. He’s got a nice body or whatever, but that doesn’t mean he needs to strut around basted in Hawaiian Tropic. She can’t really talk though, she and Quinn have both made out with him at some point in time.

“Scram, Puckerman,” Santana replies with a roll of her eyes, “I’m not drunk enough to deal with your lame ass.”

“Is that any way to talk to the host?” Puck mocks and squeezes in to sit between the Co-Captains.

Santana groans and shuffles away from him, but he throws a heavy arm around her and Quinn’s shoulders. She can smell something stronger than beer on his breath and scoffs as she gets out from underneath his arm, “You’re gross.”

“Whatever. I’m not here for you anyway,” Puck brushes off and leans heavily against Quinn instead, “I know you’re not on the menu anymore or has that changed?”

Santana’s taken aback but her heart begins to pound wildly at the accusation.

“Choose your next words carefully,” Santana warns.

“What?” Puck laughs, “You still trying to hold out on me?”

“Puck,” Quinn snaps and shrugs out from under him too.

He’s too drunk and wrapped up in his own bullshit to notice that he’s crossed a line, but his voice grabs the attention of those surrounding them.

Santana suddenly feels small, trapped even. It feels like everyone’s staring now and listening to Puck’s drunken words.

“All I wanna know is if that phase is over with now?” He says and it’s like the final blow for Santana.

She shrinks back and her vicious words that use to come so easily for her die on her tongue. There’s a crowd gathering now and she notices the blonde girl from before eyeing them too.

“It’s not a phase, asshole,” Quinn snaps and surprises everyone watching by pushing him into the pool.

Santana’s eyes go wide as she sees the big splash. She’s never been so thankful to have Quinn as her best friend.

“What the hell, Quinn!” Puck grumbles as he resurfaces, “I had my phone on me still!”

“Shouldn’t have been a dick then,” Quinn shrugs and hooks her arm with Santana’s, “Let’s go, the beer’s flat here anyway.”

Santana finally kicks into gear and nods, “Yeah. I’m not trying to be hungover for practice tomorrow.”

Santana doesn’t know why, but as they turn to leave she looks around for the mysterious blonde. To her disappointment, she’s nowhere to be found.

They make their way to the street and begin the short walk home in silence. Santana’s heart is still racing even though they’re so far away now that she can’t even hear the low thrum of the music emanating from Puck’s place. She hopes that no one saw her choke on her words, maybe they’ll be too distracted by Quinn’s actions to remember.

It’s not until another ten minutes later when they’ve arrived at Quinn’s house that Santana finally finds her voice again.

“Thanks Q,” She says quietly. She knows she doesn’t need to elaborate and she’s thankful for that too.

Quinn only lifts her shoulder in a lazy shrug, “You would’ve done the same for me.”

\\\\\

The first day of school rolls around quickly for Brittany, but despite being the new kid she makes friends relatively easy. Kurt’s in her first class and she’s honestly so relieved to see a familiar face.

He takes it upon himself to show her around and introduce Brittany to his friends. So far, Brittany’s met a Tonya or Taylor – she’s not very good with names – but she’s nice. There’s also Mercedes – she remembers that name – who Brittany met in her Astronomy class and alongside Kurt guide, they guide Brittany through McKinley High.

It’s a total Mean Girls moment and Brittany finds herself laughing at how eager they are to show her around.

When they get to lunch, she notices that everyone is pretty cliquey which is something she isn’t use to. At her old school, everyone mingled with everyone. It didn’t matter if you played sports or if you were considered cool, people just hung out with whoever they wanted.

At McKinley High, that’s clearly not the case.

All the football players sit together but instead of joining them, Kurt leads Brittany and Mercedes to a different table close by. They get a couple of curious looks, but all Brittany can focus on is what they’re wearing.

“Why have they got on their letterman jackets?” Brittany questions with a laugh, “It’s so hot outside, they have to be melting.”

“How else do expect them to establish dominance?” Kurt says sarcastically, “I only wear mine on game days. You don’t have one yet, right?”

“No,” Brittany answers, “But I do have my own number now.”

“Oh good,” Kurt grins, “It’s official now.”

\\

Kurt and Mercedes are still trying to give her the rundown, but Brittany’s starting to reach her peak when it comes to taking in all the new info. Whatever they’re saying now is kind of going in one ear and out the other, the only thing that brings her back is spotting the familiar brunette she saw at Puck’s party.

Even if Brittany drank a little more than she anticipated, she was still sober enough to remember the saddest looking girl at the party.

“And those are the Cheerios,” Mercedes tells Brittany as if she could read her mind, “McKinley’s cheerleading squad and top of the social food chain.”

“I haven’t seen them at any of the games,” Brittany looks to Kurt for an explanation.

“They don’t bother with pre-season,” Kurt answers, “They’re basically the only ones here winning any titles. Coach Sylvester practically lets them get away with murder.”

Brittany notes all the high ponies and uniforms, everyone’s make up is on point and there’s not a single hair out of place. They all look immaculate, but Brittany focuses on the two that she’s most familiar with.

“Who are they?” She asks.

“The blonde one is Quinn Fabray,” Kurt informs her in a hushed tone, “She’s Co-Captain along with the brunette – Santana Lopez – and both of their families are loaded. They’ve been best friends since ever, you rarely see one without the other. Quinn’s kind of a prude and Santana’s – “

“A complete bitch for no reason most of the time,” Mercedes finishes for him.

Kurt shakes his head, “She has a reason.”

His cryptic words interest Brittany. Hell, she’s been interested ever since she saw Quinn push Puckerman into the pool.

“Doesn’t give her an excuse to terrorize us,” Mercedes reasons, “The girl is trouble.”

Kurt bobbles his head from side to side and looks back at Brittany, “It’s best if you stay out of her way, Brittany. It’ll make your life a whole lot easier.”

“You think?” Mercedes asks, “She’s on the football team, the quarterback even. You think Santana will mess with her?”

Kurt shrugs, “She still messes with me doesn’t, she?”

“That’s true,” Mercedes frowns.

Brittany just nods, but that doesn’t extinguish the curiosity that has blossomed within her.

\\

And maybe someone above is testing her, because when Brittany arrives to her final class of the day she finds the exact person Kurt and Mercedes have been warning her against interacting with: Santana Lopez.

And to make matters even worse, the only available seat left in the room just so happens to be the one right next to her. Brittany shakes her head and glances at the board to double check she’s in the right place.

Creative Writing – Miss Holliday Room 215

Brittany’s definitely in the right place and lets out a sigh.

Might as well bite the bullet, Brittany thinks as musters all the confidence she has left and she approaches the table. She’s been rushed at by guys ten times the brunette’s size moving at full speed on the football field and yet, she can’t help but feel a little nervous when she comes to stand before the Co-Captain.

“Hi,” Brittany greets with a polite smile, “Can I sit here?”

Santana glances up at her like she can’t believe the audacity Brittany has. She eyes her up and down then goes back to filing her nails, “No.”

Brittany nods, so Kurt and Mercedes might’ve been right.

“There aren’t any other seats left,” Brittany adds.

Santana doesn’t even look up this time, “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Brittany has to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. This girl is something else but Brittany’s never been one to back down.

Unfortunately her teacher – Miss Holliday –  approaches, “Are you seriously starting off the year by being a pain in my ass, Lopez? Don’t give the new kid a hard time. Move over.”

“Fine,” Santana rolls her eyes and slides her books closer to her side of the table.

Brittany looks back at the teacher and smiles, “Thanks.”

“All good,” The woman says casually. She’s young and reminds Brittany of one of her favorite teachers at her old school, “Have a seat, Sweet Cheeks.”

Brittany does as she’s told and gets settled next to Santana. She can feel the tension radiating off the Cheerio, but tries to ease it by introducing herself.

“I’m Brittany,” She tells the brunette and adds a friendly smile for emphasis. If she’s going to be stuck sitting next to her for the rest of the year, they can at least be civil. Right?

Wrong.

“I didn’t ask,” Santana retorts and spends the rest of class giving Brittany the cold shoulder.

For some reason though, that only makes Brittany want to get to know Santana even more.

Afterall, she loves a challenge.

\\\\\

It’s the last Cheerios practice indoors and Santana and Quinn soak up the privilege of conditioning in a space with A.C. There are many reasons why Santana dreads having to join football team outdoors for practice, one being that it’s hot as hell still during this time of year and also she can’t stand the cat-calling.

With Coach Beiste as the acting head coach now, the guys are a lot more tame but Santana still hates how she feels like she’s being watched all the time. Some of the other girls on the squad don’t mind it too much though, they’re all about teasing and the pleasing apparently.

“How’s your schedule this year?” Quinn asks between stretches.

“It’s alright,” Santana shrugs, “Super easy. I got Holliday and Schuester again.”

“Lucky!” Quinn says, “I got Hagberg. I wish she would just retire already.”

Santana agrees then she remembers her last class of the day and how the mysterious blonde from Puck’s party now has a name, “Hey. Remember that girl we saw at Puck’s?”

“The blonde one?”

“Yeah, her. Brittany,” Santana murmurs the name, “I have a class with her.”

“Oh! Is she cool or something?” Quinn’s intrigued, “She’s pretty and she’s got some moves. We could get her on the squad?”

Pretty, Santana thinks it’s an understatement now that she’s seen her up close. She’s never seen eyes so damn blue and that smile – again, wow.

Quinn catches her swept up in her thoughts and quickly plays it off, “Hell no.”

“Really? Why not?”

“She’s just…,” Santana racks her brain for an excuse but she’s blanking, “She’s just not Cheerios material.”

Quinn calls her bluff, “How would you know?”

“I just do,” Santana scoffs and continues to struggle for a reason, “There’s something different about her, okay?”

“Different is good though, right? We could use that.”

“God Quinn, just drop it alright?” Santana snaps and walks off.

Quinn just laughs in disbelief, “You’re the one that brought her up!”

\\

The rest of the week is a little of the same. Santana goes through the motions of her day although a hidden piece of her longs for her last class with Brittany. She still ignores the blonde’s attempts to make conversation, but it doesn’t seem like the girl is giving up anytime soon.

Quinn still presses for Brittany to join the squad, but Santana’s not having any of that either.

Quinn can’t understand why Santana’s being so adamant about the decision. Santana doesn’t know why either. In fact, there are a lot of things Santana doesn’t understand when it comes to Brittany, but she’s not exactly ready to unpack any of that.

If anything, she’s afraid of what it all could mean.

It isn’t until Friday night that things begin to get a little clearer for them all.

\\

It’s the first regular season game which means it’s the first game the Cheerios make an appearance in. The Titans are pumped but Santana isn’t sure what’s gotten into them, they never win so cheering for them always feels like a waste of time. There’s a different air about the team this year though, but Santana doesn’t think much of it as the game kicks off.

Santana and Quinn and the rest of the Cheerios do what they do best and breathe life into the crowd like always, but they find that they don’t need to work as hard to keep morale up because the Titans are actually winning for a change.

In fact, Santana has to check the score twice to make sure she’s reading it correctly.

Home: 9 Away: 0

“What the hell?” Santana bumps Quinn with her pompom, “We’re winning?”

“Weird, right?” Quinn replies and nods over to the Titans’ bench, “Wonder if it has anything to do with that?”

Santana blinks, “Is that Finnocence?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Santana snaps back to the field, “Then who’s out there?”

“Sam?” Quinn questions but they know he’s #6 and #6 is on the other side of the field catching a perfectly thrown pass.

They both look to the quarterback and Santana asks, “Who’s #12?”

“No idea,” Quinn shrugs, “But he’s killing it!”

Santana doesn’t know much about football but she does know a lot about winning and whatever this guy is doing seems to be working.

Santana and Quinn spend the rest of the game trying to figure out who’s beneath #12’s helmet, but decide that someone already on the team must’ve been given a new number with the promotion to quarterback.

There’s really no other explanation.

All that though is quickly forgotten as the game ends and the Titans come away with their first win of the regular season. It’s practically unheard of considering their losing streak. The stands erupt in applause and Santana watches as the Titans go wild too. Sam and Mike hoist #12 onto their shoulders as the quarterback pulls of his helmet.

When Santana sees long blonde hair cascade out from underneath it, she just about faints because the Titans’ new quarterback isn’t some random guy: it’s Brittany.

“Well,” Quinn’s equally surprised and bumps Santana with her shoulder, “Looks like you were right about her being different.”

[oraclememehacker]

I’m going to shill a little bit and gauge reaction here! Cause I can of course. Here are my OC’s that I’ve created over the past years and a little explanation about them.

Adelina Fincher: Age 34, My Ace Attorney OC

She’s a prosecutor for the district of Los Angeles but didn’t originally live there. Her parents are Katherine and Victoria Fincher, highly regarded actors and noted perfectionists. As a kid she was emotionally neglected and abused by her parents who never found anything that she did good enough. This lead her to be more closed off and barely made any friends because she was too busy trying to please her unpleasable parents.

She wanted to be a prosecutor growing up because of law shows but her parents insisted she become an actor like they were and she learned a lot about playing a role because of them. However, she eventually convinced them that she would go to college and get her law degree, and that they would help pay for it. On one condition. She’d get a 4.0 GPA. And she did! At the expense of her social life again aside from 1 friend. But when she graduated she was saddled with a ton of debt because her parents were broke and were going after her for money.

She is straight forward, honest and doesn’t hold anything back. She is also sharp witted and is able to figure out things about people when they are holding back from her. She also has a crippling addiction to pepsi and drinks a 12 pack during court. It takes her a while to warm up to people because of trust issues (her parents betrayed her, she’s had others betray her and so on). But if you break her shell she is very friendly and cracks all sorts of puns and jokes.

Elly Lane: Age 25, a trans female OC

Growing up in San Diego California well before she came out as trans, Elly lived a relatively normal life, though her parents were highly religious. One time as a joke she was forced to wear a dress as a humiliation tactic and she found that she actually found it quite comfortable and that was the start to her becoming trans, though it would be a long time before she realized what it meant. As she grew up, she wore dresses more and more, having to hide them from the prying eyes of her parents who were convinced that she was mentally ill and needed to be subjected to some form of conversion therapy.

Elly took refuge behind a computer screen and is a massive fan of anime and manga. Her favorite Anime/manga of all time is a made up for her anime series called Princess Rikako, a series about a Princess with the ability to shape shift into whatever she wanted, albeit with more realistic limitations to it in terms of being able to change back. It was also a big part of what made her come out as trans. In person she is soft spoken and quick to emotional outbursts, usually tears because getting overwhelmed emotionally is very easy to happen to her.

Online though she is argumentative and defensive of her favorite shows. Japan and it’s culture are her favorite things and she has spent years learning to speak and write and read Japanese on her own, and while she’s not perfect, she was able to go to Japan on vacation and that’s when she eventually came out as trans. In the rp universe I have with her on discord she met up with Ren/Akira and Futaba in Akihibara and eventually became friends with the phantom thieves, and was able to get a job at Leblanc Cafe and stay in Japan whilst working towards her naturalized citizenship. And is currently in the midst of transitioning.

Valerie Mable, Age 33. My buff girl OC

Growing up in Minneapolis Minnesota Valerie grew up to a relatively poor family who didn’t have much to their name and as a result she valued food because it was scarce. However there come a point where her family ran across a large sum of money and her life turned around instantly. No longer was food and essentials something that had to be treasured but instead it was something that she could just have whenever. That resulted in her eating a lot and gaining a lot of weight. Even though she is 6′0 she was seen as very fat, being over 350 lbs at one point in her life.

She wanted to be a lawyer, a defense attorney and ended up going to the same college that Adelina did and she considered Adelina her only friend there, and was defended against when her weight was used for bullying. Despite being roomates with Adelina the two didn’t talk as much as expected and when Valerie graduated she didn’t even get to say goodbye to her friend. She went on a mission to lose weight and ended up developing anorexia as a result and nearly dying having lost a ton of weight in such a short period of time.

Afterwards she got her life back together and devoted herself to fitness where she became the buff fitness guru that she is today. She is a defense attorney in the district of Minneapolis and holds herself in high esteem, and will put your ass to work if she feels that you need a good workout. She is open about her jealousy towards other women and seeing buff women was the reason why she became so fit in the first place.

Leiko Enomoto, Age 23, my crazy destruction filled OC

Currently going to the same college that Makoto Nijima is, she is currently working on her degree to become an architectural designer. Her goal is to create the tallest structure in the world and she already has a mockup in blender to show this design. Plus she has worked on designs for buildings like big bang burger. As a kid she was rambunctious and a hard time for her parents but she was still loved regardless. Part of this was because of her then undiagnosed ADHD.

When she was little she played around in her father’s workshop and had a hot piece of iron fall on her face and that created a permanent crescent moon shaped scar on her face. She is reckless and often gets herself injured for various reasons. Her parents were killed in a burglary gone wrong and she was sent to live with her grandparents who did their best to take care of her despite her ways. Eventually she was diagnosed with ADHD but by then she was just seen as a nuisance by a lot of people. And she played into that, cursing and swearing a lot, dying her hair multiple colors, the picture has her with rainbow colors but she also does warm and cool colors depending on her mood.

She is a tinkerer by nature, working on such things as a custom battery for a power wheels jeep, a custom vibrator (she is really open about her sexualness and is a proud bisexual, she’ll talk about using her toys out in the open) a potato cannon and a flamethrower. Her tinkering keeps her mind occupied along with the work she does in blender for buildings. She loves explosions and watches action flicks just for the destruction.

These are my OC’s that I’ve made since 2017 and I want to know if anyone is interested in me doing a blog with them! I’ve been rping with them with my SO for a long time now (Leiko is my newest) and been a really enjoyable time. If I need to I will put this in a readmore because this post is rather long. Thanks for reading if you had the attention span to do so! And please ask if you have any questions.

[incomingalbatross]

So, I was wondering, when it comes to your Greg Pines AU do you have any thoughts on how Wirt would relate to his step-family?

Ooh, thank you! This is a very good ask, especially since I’ve been thinking more about my version of the Pines Family Tree lately. :)

So I actually have two answers to this, dependent on my two variant ideas for this step-family’s origins. I will talk about BOTH, because I can’t choose...although that also makes this pretty long. Sorry.

Background: my background is a little complicated, because for timeline purposes I decided Wirt had to be the baby in that one AToTS shot. THEREFORE, I have decided that Shermie met Wirt and Greg’s mom (her placeholder name is Rachel and they had related jobs in NYC) when she was pregnant with Wirt, but Wirt’s father was already out of the picture because he was Not Good Parent Material. Shermie, though, A) really liked Rachel and B) thought she deserved support regardless, and so he offered said support and also got his mom to befriend Rachel. So Ma Pines happened to be taking care of Baby Wirt temporarily the night Stan was disowned.

Two scenarios branching off from here:

Scenario 1: Things didn’t work out between Rachel and Shermie, they parted ways, and she raised Wirt on her own...only to reconnect some years later when Wirt was seven or eight.

In this scenario, Wirt was at first pretty resentful of Shermie’s presence in their lives, and while he eventually accepted him for his mom’s sake, he assumed that Shermie was only tolerating him for his mom’s sake as well. Greg’s birth also gave Wirt some additional insecurities about his place in their family. HOWEVER, I think the events of OTGW canon got Wirt past some of this and led to growth in their relationship.

He’s met Ma and Filbrick, and they visit Shermie’s family, though Ma maintains contact more than Filbrick does. She treats Wirt and Greg pretty much equally as her grandchildren, but Wirt’s never gotten to know her very well, and is one of those kids who sees family visits as being Awkward and Uncomfortable anyway--he doesn’t like strangers in his home! It’s nerve-wracking! So he doesn’t dislike his step-grandparents, but he doesn’t like them either.

Scenario 2 (which doesn’t line up as well with the apparent Creator’s Intent for OTGW, but I like it): Things DO work out between Shermie and Rachel, they get married while Wirt is still tiny, and he grows up with that arrangement. In fact, by the time he’s a teenager Wirt is completely unaware Shermie is not his birth dad, and finds this out very abruptly shortly before the events of OTGW. His parents swear he used to know this! They didn’t realize he forgot! Wirt, meanwhile, maintains that he NEVER knew this and his life is a LIE...

Basically, this reframes OTGW as Wirt’s extended “What Do You MEAN I’m Adopted?” identity crisis, which entertains me.

Anyway, in this scenario Wirt loves Shermie as his dad and values his good opinion immensely, although he still sometimes feels his dad doesn’t Understand him (because, y’know, Wirt is highly self-conscious and Shermie doesn’t naturally talk about things like poetry and teen angst). After the Shocking Revelation, the “he can’t relate to me” angst is dialed up to about fifteen, along with a sizable helping of Betrayal and insecurity, and leads Wirt to decide that actually they don’t have a real relationship. Shermie is just trying to wait this storm out, basically...and then OTGW happens. Which actually helps a LOT, because A) Wirt acquires some perspective and B) again, Shermie is horrified to have nearly lost BOTH his sons and he shows it.

In this world Wirt knows the Pines parents as his grandparents all along. Ma still has more contact with the family (and Filbrick does not give Wirt and Greg equal treatment, but he’s a jerk all-round so Wirt just registers that as general disapproval of himself), and Wirt is still Awkward and Uncomfortable around them, but I think he’s more at ease with Ma in this one? Probably.

In either case, I’ve decided that Shermie reconnects with Stan not long after OTGW, in fall/winter of ‘83. Prior to this, Wirt was only vaguely aware that Shermie had siblings (Ford wasn’t in touch, Stan obviously wasn’t, and Shermie doesn’t know how to talk about them given all that baggage) and after...I think he eventually learns that there was another brother who died and that it’s too painful to ask anyone about, but that’s it.

After this, Stan doesn’t visit much, for Secret Portal Reasons, but he is happy to meet both boys and occasionally send them presents. Wirt is put off by his loudness and tendency to willfully embarrass others *coughWIRTcough*, so they have a rocky start, but things improve.

(When Wirt was a baby, Teen Stan ADORED him. He was the first baby he’d ever known personally and Stan thought he was just the greatest. He and Ford--who also thought Baby Wirt was amazing--babysat sometimes. There was some casual child endangerment but also Ford would tell him science facts in a Very Serious Voice and Stan would let the baby “punch” him and then dramatically reel back.

Eventually Stan will actually tell Wirt enough of this to get them past the aforementioned rocky start.)

In the end, Wirt probably thinks of Stan as the eccentric relative (which takes doing in this family, admittedly!) whose life was marred by tragedy but who’s still family. They’re not in close contact once Wirt’s an adult but if he ever heard Stan was in trouble, I think he’d step up.

...I feel like there’s a lot more that could be said about Wirt’s relationships here, and I’m not 100% sure of all my conclusions, but it’s what I’ve got tonight. Thank you for asking! Although this may be More Words than you signed up for. :P

[440mxs-wife]

Christmas Surprises

"Dean?" you called out. "Have you seen those three red plastic totes? They have some holiday decorations in them," you explained. You wanted to avoid saying "Christmas" because that particular day has not always been the merriest for the boys.

"No, and I don't know what you're talking about, either. I'm trying to get some work done, so look for them yourself!" Dean shouted.

You grimaced, thinking of the large task ahead of you in searching all of the storage areas in the bunker. You had already searched through some of the rooms, so you went to a new one you hadn't looked through yet. At that moment, Castiel had popped in, and was leaning against the doorway when you came up empty.

"Hello, Cas! What brings you here today? Anything we can help you with?" you asked, with a smile.

"I was hoping to assist you, if I may," he smiled back, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

You looked deep into his blue eyes and blushed. "Th-that would be lovely, thank you. Two sets of eyes are better than one," you remarked. You have been harboring a secret crush on the angel that you didn't think anyone, including Sam and Dean knew about. Cas had saved your life when you were kidnapped by demons, who were looking for Sam and Dean.

"What are we looking for?" Castiel asked.

"There are three red plastic totes that have holiday decorations in them. Well, for one specific holiday, really. The one after Thanksgiving," you hinted.

He cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Black Friday? I didn't think you celebrated that day with such enthusiasm or decorations. I can't wait to see--" he started.

"No, no, Cas," you laughed. "I mean....Christmas," you whispered.

"Why are you whispering it?" he asked.

You looked around to see if Sam or Dean was within earshot before answering. "Because for Sam and Dean, that particular holiday hasn't always been one for celebration. It's one more reminder of friends and loved ones they've lost, of the Christmases they didn't celebrate for one reason or another. For me, though, Christmas was always a magical time. Back before I lost my family," you added wistfully.

You first met Sam and Dean on a hunt about 15 years ago. Your parents and sister were killed by this vengeful spirit when you were 17 years old. You had just moved into a new house, and had only been in it for a few months before it took your family. You were out with your friends that night, even though you were technically grounded. If you had been home, you would've been killed as well. After that, you trained to be a hunter and were successful in your solo hunts.

When you met the Winchesters, it was because of a case where a new family had moved in to your old house and had met the same fate. You did your research, and found out how to kill the vengeful spirit. Afterwards, the boys invited you to live with them in the bunker, and you've been with them ever since.

As you and Castiel moved from room to room, you told him of your favorite Christmas memories and about your family traditions. Your grandparents always had a flocked tree, which they would decorate with only blue lights and blue ornaments. How you always had to get up so early on Christmas Day, because you had to travel to three different relatives' houses that day. How it was tradition that every year, your dad would make that famous party mix with the cereal, pretzels and nuts.

"Wait, so your mother stopped putting names on the gifts and only put numbers on them?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes, and it was my sister's fault, too! She would look at all of the gifts and try to guess what she was getting. It annoyed my mother, because she liked the surprise. She loved seeing the reactions on our faces when we opened what she knew was the perfect gift," you explained.

"Did your mother assign one of you even numbers, and the other odd numbers? Something like that? How did she know who got which gift?" he asked.

"There was no rhyme or reason to the numbers. She assigned the numbers according to the order that she wrapped the gifts," you replied. "She kept the master list in her room, until it came time to unwrap gifts. Whoever passed them out called out the numbers, and she said who to give the package to," you said.

"That sounds like a perfect way to keep the element of surprise," Cas remarked.

"Yeah," you said softly. You wished with all your heart that your mother could be here with you. To see what you've done with your life, all the people you've helped. How strong and independent you are, thanks to her and your dad's guidance.

Sensing your mood, Cas came over to you. He put his finger under your chin and tilted your face upwards to look into his vibrant blue eyes. "I can sense what you're thinking," he started. "You wish that your mother could be here now, especially at this time of the year. Know this though: I am positive that she would be proud of the woman you have become. I myself am honored to be your friend," he finished, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles.

"Thank you, Castiel," you said quickly, blushing. "I am honored to be your friend as well," you replied, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek.

You didn't seem to object, so he kept hold of your hand as you continued on your quest. "Here's the last room. They have to be in here," you said as you searched the shelves. "A-HA! Here they are!" you exclaimed. You grabbed one tote from the shelf, while Cas took down the other two. Together, you went out to the main living area of the bunker to sort through the contents of the red totes.

You eagerly ripped the lid off of one tote, and found it was the one that held your ornaments. Every year, your grandmother would give you and your sister an ornament. She wrote your name and the year on it so you knew when she gave it to you.

Then there were the ornaments you had picked up for yourself over the years. These were mostly from small-town hunts, when you were browsing through the little shops on the square. You continued your grandmother's tradition of writing your name and the year you purchased the ornament.

You picked up each ornament and held it in your hand as memories worked their way to the surface. Cas watched the changes in your facial expression, a genuine smile spreading across his face. He could see you almost reliving the memories of when your grandmother gave you the ornament, and you thought about what each one meant to you. At a few points, you wiped away a couple of tears before they could fall.

Cas sat next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. "Lot of memories, huh?" he remarked.

"Yes, there are," you tried to smile through the tears. "Good ones, too. Hey, we need to get a tree! But, first we should decide if it should be real or artificial. Let's ask the boys," you suggested, holding out your hand to Cas. He took your hand, and when he reached a standing position, his face was very close to yours, noses almost touching. "I-I think I m-might have seen Dean go th-this way," you stammered, pointing to your left. Still holding hands, you went in the direction you last saw Dean.

"Dean? Where are you? I need to ask you something," you started.

"What? I was on my way to the showers, so make it fast," he finished, glancing at you holding hands with Castiel.

"I would like to decorate for Christmas. Yes, I know it's not your favorite holiday, but it would mean a great deal to me if we could. I wanted your opinion about whether we should get a real or an artificial tree?" you asked.

"How should I know? You are absolutely right, Christmas is not my favorite holiday. So, I don't care what you do," he retorted. Looking at Cas, Dean silently asked if he could talk to him in private. You released Castiel's hand and slowly walked back to your red totes.

"Cas, is there something going on with you two? You were looking kind of cozy, holding hands," Dean smirked.

"I don't understand, Dean, friends hold hands, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. No, buddy. Do you like her? I mean, really like like her?" Cas hesitated at Dean's question. "Come on, though, what's not to like, right? She's smart, she has a hot body--" Dean started.

Cas inched closer to Dean's face. "Do not speak about her with such disrespect," he growled. "Yes, she is smart, but she is also kind, caring and nearly always puts others before herself. Her beauty goes far beyond her physical traits because she also has a beautiful soul. She has the most sparkling hazel eyes that I could lose myself in, and the most musical laugh I've ever heard. Her smile lights up her whole face, and I could listen to her speak on end about any subject."

Dean held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa, Cas, just making an observation. You know what, though? Sounds like you love her, man," Dean remarked.

Cas pondered Dean's last statement as he watched his friend walk towards the showers. Cas decided to get Sam's advice on love. But first, he wanted to catch up with you after Dean had given you his "opinion" on a Christmas tree.

He found you sitting with your totes, putting everything back in the container. You replaced the lid and pushed it away from you in frustration. You leaned back against a pillar and stared at your hands resting in your lap. Cas sat down next to you, your shoulders touching. "So, have you decided whether we should have a real or artificial tree?" he asked.

"No, not yet, Cas. I'm a little tired right now. I think I'm going to take a nap," you said absently as you rose from your position on the floor.

"Are you sure you're all right? What about the tree?" Cas asked.

"Cas, you heard Dean. He doesn't care one way or another. In fact, I think he'd rather that I drop the issue entirely. Maybe I should," you said sadly.

Cas reached for your hand, taking it in his. "I don't think you should. Maybe you'll feel differently after a nap. If you want to sit on the couch....I'll sit with you until you fall asleep," he offered. You gave him a small smile and nodded, then the two of you walked over to the couch.

He waited until you sat down and got comfy, then he went to your room for your favorite blanket. He wrapped you in the blanket, then removed his trench coat. Cas sat down on the couch next to you, draping one arm across your shoulders and drawing you close to him. You rested your head on his shoulder and your hand on his upper chest, then closed your eyes. Cas threaded his fingers through your hair and whispered sweet words to you in Enochian.

When you had fallen asleep, Cas carefully extracted himself from your embrace. He laid your head on a pillow, placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and made sure you were covered in your blanket. He went in search of Sam, who was getting a snack in the kitchen. "Oh hey, Cas," Sam greeted him.

Cas said there was something he needed to speak to him about. Sam asked him if it had anything to do with you, at which Castiel nodded. "I believe I'm in love with her. How do I find out if she feels the same, and what do I do about it?"

"After what I saw out on the couch, I think it's safe to say she feels the same, buddy. Have you kissed her yet?" Sam asked. Cas shook his head, but Sam could tell that kissing you had crossed his mind. "Here's what you do," Sam said as he started to formulate a plan with Cas.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When you awoke, Castiel was no longer on the couch with you. Probably had angelic duties to attend to, you thought. Get real. He can't and probably doesn't want to spend every waking moment with you. You went to the kitchen for a bottle of water and a snack. As you passed through the library, you noticed a remarkably tall and somewhat full Christmas tree had appeared. The pine scent permeated the air and you got excited about the holiday again.

Sam and Cas came out to see you admiring the tree. Castiel immediately noticed the change in your thoughts and smiled. "Do you like it?" he asked, now standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. "Sam and I went to Hoffman Tree Farm and picked it out while you were asleep," he explained.

"I love it! It's the perfect tree," you replied. You turned around and found yourself wrapped in Castiel's arms. "Thank you so much, Cas," you gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek and hugged him. "How about we go and decorate the tree?" you suggested.

"Sounds good," Cas replied.

The lights were put on and plugged in, courtesy of both Sam and Dean. You reopened the red tote that had your ornaments and started hanging them on the tree. You remembered that you had purchased some new ornaments in town, so you went to your room to get them. You had also bought some tinsel, which you always loved to see sparkle on the tree.

You handed a new ornament to each one of the boys, with the year and their initials on it. For Sam, his ornament was shaped like an open book. Dean's was a chef's hat, in honor of his famous burgers. Castiel's ornament was a honeybee with a Santa hat on it and a big cheesy grin.

Also among your purchases were ornaments for John and Mary. You handed them to Sam and Dean to hang on the tree. They were touched that you remembered their parents, and each gave you a hug. Cas winked at you in support, causing you to blush.

You continued to add ornaments to the tree, some old and some new. Feeling a bit mischievous, you took some tinsel and placed it in Cas' hair. When he didn't notice, you put a few more strands in his hair. Some must have drifted to where he could see it, because he turned around, only to see you with another few strands in your hand, ready to put in his hair.

For a moment, he looked upset, then he tried to return the favor by grabbing some tinsel and tossing it in your direction. You ducked just in time, so it landed on the floor. You stuck your tongue out at Cas, which he interpreted as a challenge.

He began chasing you around the bunker with the box of tinsel, intent on getting his revenge. "You'll never catch me!" you taunted, then suddenly realized you were backed into a corner.

"You were saying?" Cas teased, a wicked grin on his face as he moved closer to you. You tried to move to either side, but it was no use. Cas' legs were slightly spread apart, so you took the opportunity and dove between them. You scrambled to a standing position and the chase continued.

When you had reached the doorway back to the library, your foot slipped on some tinsel that had fallen on the floor. Cas swooped in and caught you in his arms. "At last you are my prisoner," he grinned. "Have you any last words before I pronounce sentence?" he taunted.

You looked up and saw a bunch of green leaves with white berries attached. You tilted your head in confusion. "Is that....mistletoe?" you asked.

Cas followed your gaze and confirmed that it was indeed mistletoe. "A Christmas tradition that Sam explained to me. One that I am very much looking forward to following," Cas said softly.

"Well, who am I to break tradition?" you asked breathily. Cas raised you to a standing position, but did not release his hold on you. At this point, your lips were only a fraction of an inch apart. Your heart was hammering wildly, and you were certain that Cas was aware of it.

The moment that your lips met, it felt like fireworks were exploding. You closed your eyes and melted into the kiss, which was deepening with every passing second. A small moan escaped your lips, further encouraging the angel to continue. Your fingers ran through his short, jet black hair, while his hand cupped your face and his thumb caressed your cheek.

"Oh, Cas," you whispered.

"Yes, my love, I feel it too. I've been dreaming of this moment for some time now," he admitted.

"You have?" you squeaked out. "And?" you asked.

He grinned. "Honeybee, I promise you. Reality is SO much better," he answered before diving back in for another kiss. 

When the kiss was broken, Cas leaned his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. He took your hand and intertwined your fingers. "Shall we finish decorating the tree, my love?" he winked. You nodded, blushing slightly and walked with Cas back out to the library.

You saw Dean and gave him a hug. "What was that for?" he asked. "For helping with the lights, for making this truly a 'family moment'. That's what Christmas means to me, family. So thank you, Dean," you answered.

Dean quickly cleared his throat. "You're welcome, kid," he said gruffly. Gesturing towards Castiel, he said, "Take good care of him. He loves you, you know."

"I know, Dean. I love him, and I promise to take the best care of him, just as I know he will do the same for me," you replied softly.

[purplesurveys]

1062

survey by chrissylee22dc

A

Achievements: I guess I’m being asked to list some of mine...some of the ones I’m proudest of, at least, are graduating university with honors, landing a job (liking it is a big bonus), and taking up leadership positions.

Age: I am 22, but never felt quite like it.

Are you planning something right now? Kind of. I’m eyeing a long road trip to Tanay with just myself and go to one of their coffee shops, but idk when I’ll be able to do that. My wallet and bank account are still beat from Christmas lol (and until now I’m still buying gifts for friends), so it might have to wait until sometime next month.

Arizona or Alaska: I think Arizona weather is already quite like ours here, so I might enjoy Alaska a bit (if not a lot) more. There’s generally a lot more factors I find interesting with Alaska, like their food.

B

Birthdate: April 21st.

Build: I’m quite thin and underweight, but I actually recently made plans to start working out - both to make an effort to be healthy with myself, and also to feel good post-breakup. I’m hoping to see some changes in my body and build in the coming months.

Babies, do you have any? None of those, not sure if that’s still the plan for me.

Blonde or Brunette: Brunette.

C

Childhood sweetheart: Erm, does Gab count? We technically weren’t kids anymore when we first got together. I wasn’t attracted to anyone as a kid and was more concerned with growing my Pokemon pogs collection.

Current mood: I’m hungry and can go for savory breakfast foods right now, like shakshuka or huevos rancheros. Also a little anxious because I really don’t want to think about work, but tasks continue to pile up for a certain client.

Children, are there more in your future? There aren’t even any to begin with.

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi just because it reminds me of Punk and my chaotic wrestling fangirl years.

D

Dad's name: Edgardo, but no one calls him by that full name. He has two nicknames; one of which he hates and only family and friends use, and the other is the name he has permanently introduced himself as in his workplace.

Dating anyone: Not anymore.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Don’t most people?

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

E

Elementary School: I’m not sharing that.

Eye color: Dark brown/black.

Ever going to China? Probably not right now considering the present situation. I’d love to go to the rural cities and have a peek into their country life.

Early or Late: EARLY. Lateness is a big pet peeve, unless the excuse is super reasonable like Manila traffic or a car accident.

F

First Crush: The first person I felt remotely attractive to was Andi, from 6th grade. Then she moved to New Zealand and the crush quickly faded out.

Fears: For concrete things, I hate cockroaches and fair rides. For bigger concepts, I fear getting left behind, failing, and not getting approval, and the idea of never being satisfied or happy with who I am, what I’ve done, or where I’ve gone.

Future goals: Have a place of my own, be able to sustain myself, and keep myself alive.

Funny or Serious: I think everyone has to have both sides. I wouldn’t want to hang out long with people who can’t be sat down to just shoot the shit with conversations that go a little deeper. At the same time, I’d be quickly bored with someone who talks about existential or philosophical topics 24/7 and takes everything seriously.

G

Grandparent's names: On my dad’s side, Dolores and Federico; on my mom’s side, Agnes and Jun. My maternal grandpa is the third in multiple generations of Abelardos in the family, but his nickname is simply ‘Jun,’ because Philippines.

GPA: We don’t measure our grades with that, but we do have a GWA; I’m just not sure how that can be converted to GPA. Mine was in the 1.47 range, which was good enough for cum laude honors. I barely missed out on a magna cum laude honor (which required a 1.45 GWA), so that’s something I’ve always been pressed about and I know I could have clinched it if the pandemic didn’t cancel my final semester, which would’ve given me the chance to pull up my grades.

Going anywhere this weekend? I don’t think so. I want to spend the remaining 5 days of my break completely unproductively.

Giver or Taker: Giver. I like pleasing people.

H

High School: I attended one school from kindergarten to high school.

Hair color: Black.

Hate anyone for life? I don’t think so. I dislike some people, but I can’t tell if I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.

Hairspray or Gel: When I’m going somewhere or attending something fancy, I use hair gel to hold my hair down.

I

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Eighth grade is freshman year of high school, right? In that case, my best friend was Gabie.

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes it is. I like no longer being updated about Gabie’s life. Back when I still tried to push my way in, I was miserable. I stopped doing so over the holidays and I just stopped reaching out, stopped trying to communicate, everything. I’ve been a lot happier that way.

Is there anything you wanna share? That’s kinda the goal with every survey I take.

Ice Cream or Cake: Right now, maybe ice cream. I’m very picky about cake, and I don’t like the spongy ones aka most cakes I know.

J

Jumped rope for fun: That’s exactly what I use jump ropes for. I don’t think I ever used it for fitness or working out except for maybe PE.

Junk around you right now? I mean, not really. I have my embroidery stuff in a pile beside me, but I don’t consider them junk.

Joining anything anytime soon? Not planning on it. I briefly considered joining a gym as a new thing to do for 2021, but in the end I figured working out at home would be enough. Angela recommended the latter as well, so that’s how I abandoned my gym plans quickly haha.

January or July: I guess July? January always feels just a teeny bit stranger than other months, considering it’s the beginning of a new year.

K

Killed anyone: ...This serious?

Keeping a secret? I keep different secrets from different people.

Kicking someone off your top friends today? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.

Kiwi or Apple: Apple, just because I’ve never had the chance to taste kiwi.

L

Lost anyone close to you: I’ve lived 22 years, of course I have. I’d be very surprised if someone has lived that long but has never experienced losing people, whether from a fallout, from death, etc. Just this year alone I lost a great-aunt on my maternal grandpa’s side, and a ton of relatives from my maternal grandma’s side.

Last kiss, when and who: Gabie, three months ago.

List 3 people that you'll love forever: I can only think of Angela. And of course, Gab.

Lover or Fighter: Fighter, I suppose. I can be relentless. Right now with my breakup has been the only time I allowed myself to take a step back and not forcibly take things under my control for once.

M

Middle School: We don’t follow the concept of middle school here. The levels in middle school fall under elementary school as well.

Marital Status: Single.

Mom's name: Abigail.

Music or TV: TV.

N

Northernmost state you've been to: Batanes, which is as northernmost as northernmost gets in the Philippines.

Nickname: A lot of family members call me Byn, but for the most part Robyn has always been my main nickname.

Name your future boy and girl: I have yet to make up my mind about this.

Naughty or Nice: Nice. I never particularly feel ~naughty, and since the breakup I especially haven’t felt the need to be sexual.

O

Opened a piece of mail that wasn't yours? Sometimes I’ll open the electricity or water bill addressed to my parents out of curiosity just to find out how much we consumed in the last month. But nothing more than that.

Occupation: I’m an associate at a PR agency.

Owe anyone money: Nope.

Outgoing or Shy: Shy at first but I can get outgoing once I’ve warmed up to a person/situation.

P

Place you most want to be? Right now? I’d love to be at a coffee shop or bar at a higher altitude, with a view of the city. I used to go to a lot of these before the pandemic hit, but now I’m thinking of doing it again.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? No.

Planning a major trip? Not really. Most tourist spots require swab tests and I am not having anything go up my nose.

Pink or Black? Love both, but I like pink ever so slightly more.

Q

Quit a class: I’ve never dropped a class. I’ve wanted to, but there was so much paperwork to fill out to do so and I also didn’t want to be behind on my overall schedule.

Quickly...the first word to come to mind: Whistle, because the pink/black question reminded me of Blackpink.

Quitting your job soon? No lol I’m barely two months in.

Quiet or Loud: I can be both, but these days I’ve been quieter.

R

Riding in an airplane: I have no idea what this is asking.

Ride, tell me about yours: ^ Same.

Running for any political office in the future? No plans to.

Rain or Snow: I guess rain, since it’s the only one I’ve experienced.

S

Siblings names and ages: Nina is 20, my brother is 17.

Shoe size: I fit anywhere between a size 6 to 7.

Shave daily? It used to be daily, but I haven’t had the need to since the quarantine began.

Shower or Bath: Shower.

T

Turning 21 was (will be): It’s been a year since then.

Texas, ever been? No but I have relatives who live there, so it’s one of my choice states to visit and stay at if I ever plan to go to the US.

Think you'll live to be 100? I doubt it. I don’t have any relatives who lived until that age.

Tame or Wild: Idk, tame I guess?? I don’t know what this is asking.

U

Unique quality about you: I feel like this is a question best answered by other people who see and interact with me more than I do myself.

Underwear on? Yeah.

Under your bed lies: Large containers with all the magazines I collected from childhood that I can’t bring myself to throw out.

Under or Over: Idk, you have to be more specific.

V

Virgin? No.

Vacation time left? I have five days left, including today :( I plan to be the most unproductive or bum-y I’ve ever been, because I have no clue when I’ll have a break this long again.

Voting in the next Presidential election? Of course.

Volleyball or Swimming: I like swimming more, but I like watching volleyball.

W

Went white water rafting? I don’t think so, but I would give it a shot.

Wearing right now: A hoodie that’s around two sizes bigger for me.

Write a sentence about you: About anything? I’m a little upset with myself for having been a bit lousy with survey-taking during the holiday break. I planned on taking a lot to catch up on the ones I’ve missed out on, but so far I mostly take just one a day lol.

West Coast or East Coast: East.

X

X-Rays in the past month: 0.

X-Mas plans: Had a get-together with my mom’s side of the family on the 24th; we hosted our own Christmas party on the 25th; and we visited my dad’s side of the family on the 26th.

X, does it mark the spot? Idk.

X-Tina or Britney? Britney.

Y

You lost "it" when? I mean, I’ve had more than one moment where I freaked out...

Your favorite song:  I’m really in love with Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House. My favorite songs come and go, but this one has been a constant.

Your favorite place on Earth: Sagada.

Yes or No: Idk. I’m not enjoying these vague ass questions.

Z

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Zodiac Sign: Idk, I’m still a Taurus.

Zippos are neat, agree? I don’t have an opinion.

Zoo or Circus: Neither.

[sparklesparklekoushi]

Water Lily Songs

This is a rewrite of my Semi fanfic, I posted the old one here and the rewrite first on ao3 here. 

Semi Eita x Reader

Chapter One

There was a legend I was told of as a child, the legend of the sirens.

Beautiful mythical men and women who were half fish, half people. Voices like silk and irises of gold and silver, one may say that they look like they have been sculpted and created by the gods themselves.  They were not to be mistaken for merfolk however, as those were their less vicious relatives. No, sirens were vicious water dwelling creatures who took humans as their prey. They loved seducing those who they deemed intriguing and eventually, disposing of them when they have had enough.

Living near the seashore as a child, I wasn’t really allowed to visit the white sand beach. That is because I lived with my grandparents who had taught me all about these mythical creatures. I wasn’t exactly ever scared of these creatures, nor was I interested in finding them. It was more of an; “I knew they could exist, but that wouldn’t hurt me at all”.

What they allowed however, was for me to be able to swim in a pool and join the swim team in all the years of my life so far. They knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep me from the water forever. They knew that, one day I would want to swim more than I know I do, or at least, these were my grandfather’s last words to me before he died. And as weird as his words were, I understood them completely.

I loved going to the beach before I was told the legends by my grandmother. I loved swimming in the pool we had in our backyard and wanted to be in the water almost all the time. There was something soothing about the cool water, not even just on a summer day. Even in the winter, when the water wouldn’t freeze, I would swim. I would enjoy the chilling feeling of the somewhat icy water around me, as snow falls from the sky.

Normally, or as I would eventually learn, you would get sick from doing that, but I didn’t. My grandparents didn’t seem to mind either, so I grew up thinking it was fine, until of course, my best friend Kiyoko had told me in junior high. It was a funny thing for both of us at first, how she would worry and I would insist that I’m fine. Then we got used to it, and laughed it off every now and then.

I’ve been swimming all my life, like the water is a part of me and my being. And this got me a scholarship to a good school, Shiratorizawa. In junior high I had left the shores I grew up seeing and now in high school, I have left all of the sea breezes and sleepovers, for a dorm and a varsity position on the girls’ swimming team.

I’ve always won with my team, every year since 1st year, and now it is my last. As captain I’ve received invitations to colleges and universities for another swimming scholarship. But even with all these things, I’ve been feeling rather empty lately. Sure I was doing well, I still loved swimming and being with others, yet… something was missing.

Sometimes, when I’d get time to visit Kiyoko at Karasuno, we would talk about this and she would show a concerned look at how frustrated it made me feel.

“Maybe you should take a break, y/n.” Kiyoko put her hand on my shoulder.

I was helping her put back volleyballs after a weekend practice the Karasuno boys team had, “Why so?”

“I know you aren’t losing any of your affection for anything, but maybe you should take a break and look at things from a wider perspective, you know like how we used to joke around.”

So I finally decided to take her advice, hangout with other friends, take small breaks from doing the things I love, and maybe just maybe, try something different. Today I headed for the gym where the volleyball team practiced at to meet one of my close friends, Tendou Satori.

The way my friendship with Tendou was weird to say the least, we were in the same class in our first year of high school. Then all of a sudden, he came up to me and asked me if I could sing.

“You’re L/N-san right?” He looked at me with a curious glance

“Yes, why do you ask?” I looked up from my copy of Shonen Jump

“Do you sing?”

“No? I’ve never really tried to..?”

He smiles and nods as he introduces himself and finally asks about the copy of Shonen Jump I was reading. Despite the odd question, we could talk to each other easily as mean as others were to us.

Sometimes, Tendou would even joke that people wouldn’t look at him as weirdly as the swimming angel Y/N is his friend. I would brush it off, and joke back that he had crazy good abilities as well. I smile as I hear that their practice is over for the day, and walk into the gym, greeting their coach who gives me a nod in reply.

“N/N-chan!” My friend singsongs as he walks over to me, “Did you bring over the newest edition?”

I smile and pull out a copy of what actually brought us together as friends, “Of course I did.”

He smiled even wider and took one copy from me, “Oh, we’ll be going out today, would you like to come with us?”

I blinked once, “Where? Are you sure it would be okay?”

“It's fine, Y/N-san, it will only be the third years anyway.” Ushijima says with a nod, he was the only other person I truly knew amongst the third years, but then again, I had been classmates with all of them….except Semi.

I have a reason to believe that Semi Eita has a vendetta or grudge against me. From the moment we met when I was introduced to them in our first year, once he had found out that I was on the swim team, it was as if I had lost all chances of being able to become friends with him. I honestly could never understand why he wouldn’t ever look at me for more than 10 seconds, or why he would always shut down the idea of singing with me or me singing at all.

I’d hate to admit that he has a beautiful voice, soothing and alluring something like a CD track playing from the record player. Yet, he never really liked singing in front of us much, or anyone as I’ve heard. So the reason as to why he wouldn’t sing, well, I haven’t figured it out yet.

With a smile I accept my friends’ invitation and that is how I find myself in a situation I would never be able to prepare for; getting stuck under a bus stop with only the man with a grudge himself, Semi Eita. We were on our way to the mall when we all got split up because of miscommunication, so here I am with Semi as the only two people under a bus stop, in the rain, without an umbrella.

We sit a good distance apart, silently and awkwardly. Semi has a frown on his face as he looks at the schedule for the buses. I take this opportunity to study his features. His ash blonde hair looked soft and a little messy, his clothes were simple but they suited him well, his facial features were pretty and I find myself admitting that he does look rather handsome.

For the first time, he looked at me and I got to stare into his eyes for the very first time, he had flecks of gold and silver in his irises, they were beautiful. He looked away and sighed dejectedly.

I took a deep breath, “Semi-san, why do you hate me?”

He coughed and looked back at me, not daring to meet my eyes, “H-hate you?! Where did you get that idea…”

“You never look at me or talk to me, and when you do, you always make fun of me….”

He sighs and looks into my eyes, “You’ve heard me sing, right L/N-san?”

I hum in agreement, “Yes, why?”

“Do you feel anything weird when I sing?”

“Yes and no, I just think you have a pretty voice...but sometimes I feel jealous.”

“I thought so.” He chuckles somewhat sadly.

“What do you mean?” I shoot him a curious stare.

“Do you see how my eyes have streaks of gold and silver?” he asks with a serious tone.

I nod.

“So why are you unaffected by my song?”

“...your song..?”

“Do you know why it seems as if I hate you?”

“Yeah,” I say looking down a little and he moves closer.

He laughs with a hint of sadness, “Well, for one, you're a swimmer. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to….”

The rain pours down harder and harder as he moves closer, “And secondly, you aren’t affected by my voice at all… I thought it was something that would be different over time, but then I saw your eyes...and realized ah, a siren, but you aren’t one at the same time.”

What? A siren?? What is he on??! I think to myself.

He looks at me amused, “I know you’re confused, but were you ever asked not to take singing lessons as a child?”

“....yeah...how..”

“Because you don’t need them, because the legends are real and you are one...or at least half of one..”

The rain is heavier now, and so is the mood of this whole conversation. Some of the things he was saying made sense, but I didn’t want them too, it sounds like pure madness in all honesty.

“If you sing at the karaoke later, you’ll know what I mean… but since you aren’t fully a siren, you won’t be of any harm…” He looks at me with an expression proving he was serious.

He thought of something and then took my hand, “You know what, we’re going to the nearest beach”, he says as the next bus arrives with no one in it.

“What?!”

He then starts humming a tune and you were somewhat mesmerized, “So it does have some effect, interesting…”

With that you get on the bus with Semi, all plans abandoned for the day. Partly because you are entranced, but mostly because of your own curiosity, but will that be your downfall?

[mimixeu]

⟨  AMANDA  ZHOU.    CIS  FEMALE.    SHE  /  HER.  ⟩    though  the  mist  might  prevent  some  from  seeing it,    MEMPHIS    “  MIMI  ”    YIU    is  actually  a  descendant  of    A R E S.    it’s  still  a  question  of  whether  or  not  the    TWENTY - FIVE    year  old    EAST  ASIAN  STUDIES  MAJOR    from    SEATTLE,    WASHINGTON    has  taken  after  their  godly  parent  completely,    but  the  demigod  is  still  known  to  be  quite    OBSERVANT    &    SELF - SABOTAGING.

                  +    DOSSIER.      +    PINTEREST.      +    PLAYLIST.

PERSONALITY.

most  people  find  mimi  to  be  quite  unassuming  at  first  glance.    from  a  distance,    she  is  twinkling  eyes  and  a  pearly - white  smile,    fun  to  be  around  and  ever  so  easy  to  talk  to  ;  but  the  closer  one  tries  to  get  to  her,    the  farther  away  she  runs.    you  see,    she  is  used  to  getting  hurt,    and  her  powers  being  at  the  heart  of  it  all.    with  time,    she  has  learned  the  art  of  self - preservation,    and  has  sworn  to  never  let  anybody  get  too  close  to  her    ⸺    lest  they  end  up  turning  on  her,    too.    it’s  this  self - preservation  that  has  made  her  exceptionally  good  at  observing  people,    figuring  them  out,    learning  their  secrets.    she  knows  more  about  other  people  than  they  ever  do  her.

          it’s  no  surprise,    therefore,    that  envy  is  an  emotion  that  comes  exceptionally  easy  to  her,    often  greeting  her  like  an  old  friend.    seeing  large  groups  of  friends  around  campus  often  makes  mimi  yearn  for  more,    for  uncomplicated  companionship  and  untainted  relationships,    but  she  knows  it’s  far  safer  to  keep  the  world  at  arm’s  length.    it  doesn’t  mean  that  she  doesn’t  long  to  be  loved  and  wanted  by  her  peers.    the  same  goes  for  her  romantic  life.    she  has  never  fallen  in  love,    never  had  a  relationship  last  long  enough  for  her  to  become  attached.    she  prefers  serial  dating  to  long - term  relationships  because  it  means  she  has  control,    but  mimi  romanticises  the  idea  of  something  more  stable,    one  unaffected  by  her  fears  of  rejection.

          despite  her  self - sabotaging  ways,    mimi  is  known  to  be  very  loyal  towards  the  people  she  does  keep,    of  those  who  have  outlasted  the  fragile  fury  and  rocky  turbulence.    (    after  all,    if  they  are  to  be  in  her  life,    then  she  might  as  well  protect  them  with  her  entire  being.    )    she  is  also  relatively  good - humoured  and  likes  having  a  laugh,    takes  pleasure  in  making  people  smile.    it  is  a  smile  that  hides  her  resentment  for  ares,    as  she  firmly  believes  that  she  could  have  had  something  resembling  a  normal  life,    even  vaguely,    if  it  were  not  for  her  relation  to  him.    unlike  some  of  her  peers,    she  does  not  hold  her  godly  parent  to  high  regard.

FACTS.

the  maternal  side  of  mimi’s  family  hails  from  the  island  of  hong  kong,    just  off  of  china.    back  in  the  seventies,    when  mimi’s  mother,    jingfei,    was  still  just  a  child,    they  immigrated  to  the  united  states  where  they  first  lived  in  augusta,  ga,    before  settling  in  seattle,    wa,    where  mimi’s  uncle  was  born.

mimi  is  fluent  in  english  and  greek,    as  well  as  cantonese  as  mandarin,    as  she  was  taught  to  speak  both  languages  from  a  young  age.    of  the  two,    she  prefers  to  speak  cantonese.

in  her  early  years,    mimi’s  mother  was  an  air  hostess  who  frequently  travelled  for  her  job.    this  was  how  she  met  ares.    she  had  no  plans  to  quit  her  job,    not  even  when  she  learned  that  she  was  pregnant  with  what  would  become  their  daughter,    and  continued  to  work  through  her  pregnancy  for  as  long  as  it  was  allowed.    for  the  formative  years of  mimi’s  life,    she  was  essentially  raised  by  her  grandparents,    only  seeing  her  mother  when  she  was  able  to  take  leave.

as  a  teenager,    mimi  found  herself  as  camp  elektra  in  silverlake,    ca,    and  it  was  the  only  place  she  felt  like  she  could  fit  in  for  the  longest  time.

she’s  been  a  student  at  eonia  university  for  five  years,    and  has  bounced  between  several  majors.    currently,    she  is  majoring  in  east  asian  studies,    but  she  has  also  studied  architecture  and  marine  biology  in  the  past.

stable  relationship    ?    never  heard  of  her.    due  to  her  abilities,    mimi  doesn’t  have  very  many  close  friends.    she  won’t  allow  it.    instead,    she  prefers  to  keep  many  acquaintances,    and  probably  knows  at  least  one  person  in  every  course  /  house.    she  is  very  good  at  remembering  faces  and  learning  names.    even  if  she  doesn’t  have  a  lot  of  people  she  considers  to  be  friends,    she  still  very  much  likes  to  make  an  effort.

mimi  met  her  father  once.    he  appeared  at  the  gates  of  camp  elektra  and  was  immediately  charged  into  by  his  fourteen - year - old  daughter.    in  front  of  a  crowd  of  young  demigods,    she  created  a  scene,    demanding  answers  from  ares,    questioning  him  of  her  existence  and  his  motivations.    it  was  a  rage  like  she  had  never  felt  before.    she  told  him  she  hated  him,    and  though  she  was  told  off  for  disrespecting  one  of  the  gods,    she  thinks  he  knows  she  means  it.

POWERS.

limited  necromancy    :    she  remembers  seeing  ghosts  as  a  kid.    sometimes  they  had  faces,    but  more  often  than  not,    they  were  blurred  figures    ⸺    like  silhouettes  behind  a  glass  pane.    they  never  stayed  for  long,    but  sometimes  they  would  come  to  her,    whispering  enticing  words  and  asking  for  her  help.    every  adult  she  ever  told  dismissed  them  as  creations  from  an  overactive  child’s  mind  rather  than  spirits  that  genuinely  existed.    it’s  not  an  ability  she’s  particularly  hone,    and  over  the  years  it  appears  to  have  waned  significantly,    but  mimi  still  sees  them  sometimes,    in  the  dead  of  night  when  no  one  is  watching.    she’ll  glance  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye  and  perhaps  a  blurred  figure  smiles  at  her  through  the  dark.

odikinesis    :    from  a  young  age,    people  have  always  acted  peculiarly  around  her.    teachers  would  be  impatient  for  no  reason,    often  picking  on  her  when  she  was  late  or  forgot  her  homework,    and  even  friends  and  family  members  had  a  habit  of  becoming  noticeably  more  irritable  in  her  presence.    mimi  never  understood  why.    whatever  she  did  to  make  it  up  to  them,    it  only  seemed  to  make  matters  worse.    as  a  child,    it  wasn’t  something  she  necessarily  intended  to  happen,    and  she  slowly  learned  that  if  she  concentrated  hard  enough,    then  it  didn’t  have  to  happen  at  all.    but  more  recently,    she’s  also  realised  that  as  much  as  she  can  put  out  the  coals,    she  is  capable  of  fanning  the  flames,    too.    it’s  become  a  habit  of  hers    ⸺    in  moments  of  pent - up  rage  or  insecurity    ⸺    to  find  people  in  varying  states  of  anger  and  agitation  and  turn  the  volume  up  to  one  hundred.    she  knows  what  she’s  doing  is  wrong,    and  it  always  leaves  her  with  an  overbearing  amount  of  remorse  when  all  is  over.    she’s  lost  plenty  of  friends  as  a  result,    and  always  vows  to  learn  from  it  but  never  does.

other  abilities  :

sonic  scream    :    it  happened  only  once,    when  she  was  a  toddler.    for  hours,    young  mimi  wouldn’t  stop  crying.    she  was  passed  from  relative  to  relative,    each  attempting  to  soothe  and  comfort  her,    but  by  hour  three,    it  was  clear  her  tears  were  not  going  to  relent.    then  it  happened    ⸺    the  tot  let  out  a  terrific  wail.    it  shattered  the  windows,    cracked  the  mirror  down  the  hall.    then  all  at  once,    it  was  over,    the  crying,    the  screaming    ⸺    all  of  it  was  gone.    her  entire  family  was  left  stunned.

telumkinesis    :    while  the  ability  can  be  useful,    it’s  not  one  mimi  chooses  to  use  on  a  regular  basis.    although  she  may  incite  the  occasional  brawl  and  spars  along  with  her  brothers  and  sisters,    she  rarely  involves  herself  in  the  chaos,    thus  she’s  never  found  much  need  for  weapons  outside  of  training.

OUT OF CHARACTER.

hellooooo    !!!!!!!!    I’m  nixie,    24+,    she  /  her pronouns,    from  the  gmt  timezone.    I  heard  about  this  group  from  my  lovely  friend,    who’d  been  hyping  it  up.    I’ve  been  considering  rejoining  groups  for  a  while  since  my  indie  blogs  have  been  stressing  me  tf  out  lately,    so  I  decided  to  join  on  a  whim  and  now  I  am  here  to  bring  you  my  misfortunate  chaos  baby,    mimi  yiu,    who  never  asked  for  any  of  this  but  lost  her  ticket  out  ✌🏼  I’m  SUPER  excited  to  start  writing  with  you  guys    !    feel  free  to  look  through  any  of  the  links  listed  in  this  post  or  on  my  page    !

[lovemesomesurveys]

[-lastcall]

how often do you look in a mirror, a day? I honestly avoid that as much as possible. If I need to, I spend as little time doing so. I’ve become extremely self-conscious these past few years.  

you are thinking about somebody, and who might that be? I’m not, though.

who is the last person to see you in your underwear? Just me.

you need to vent about things, who do you call? No one. I’d do that in a survey and/or series of tweets.

do you enjoy deep conversations? Yes.

did you/are you planning on going to college? I did and graduated. did you ever place in the spelling bees in elementary school? I never participated in one.

do you remember your kindergarten teacher? I do.

what color is the shirt you are wearing? Like a lilac or lavender color.

the last text message you sent out said..? “Oh okay.”

do you ever feel like you are being watched? I haven’t felt that in a long time.

what color is your bedspread? Light blue.

you get a text saying they love your older sibling. you say? I’d have no idea who would send such a text. I’d assume it was a wrong number and just ignore it.

what is your biggest kept secret about? Hmm.

if you see a shooting star, do you make a wish? I’ve never seen one.

does it take a lot to make you in a bad mood? Not these days that’s for sure. It happens in the blink of an eye at anytime, multiple times.

what is your favorite relative? I don’t choose favorites when it comes to that, but there are family members I’m closer to than others.

your mom says she is in love with your principal. you freak out, right? I’m not in school, but yeah that certainly would have been shocking.

what was your biggest fear as a child? Bugs.

my biggest pet peeve is one-worded texts, what is yours? Eating sounds. Gahhh.

why did your last relationship end? He decided he was done.

did your parents ship you off to summer camp as a child? No.

in ninth grade, all you cared about is what? *shrug*

what would be your acceptance speech if you won an award? Uh, I don’t know? That’s something I’d have to spend a significant amount of time to think about. I couldn’t just come up with something like that on the spot.

have you ever lost a close friend? Yes. A few.

are you angry at anyone? if so, why? Just myself.

when was the last time you smiled truly? It’s been a long time. :/

pick: mcdonalds, wendys, or burger king. McDonald’s.

what is the most played song on your ipod? I haven’t used my iPod since like 2012, so I have no idea.

why did you choose this survey to take? I haven’t done it before and felt like taking it.

are there mosquitos where you live? if not, consider yourself lucky. Yes.

have you ever been inside of the statue of liberty? Nope. I’ve never even been to New York. I’d like to someday, though.

what is the first thing (other than clothes) that you see in your closet? A couple of my mini backpacks hanging up.

have you actually watched JONAS, or just assumed it was stupid? I did watch it. I was a huge Jonas Brothers fan at the time. I still enjoy their music.

what is the first thing you think of when i say blue? Sadness.

how old are you? I’m 31 years old.

what is your name, anyways? Stephanie.

have you ever built a snowman? Nope.

i fell down the stairs five minutes ago, ever done that? No.

do you still own any stuffed animals? I have a room full of stuffed animals, majority of which are giraffes.

where is the weirdest place you have ever had a bruise? *shrug*

what is the most addicting thing you have ever done? Drink coffee the first time.

do you visit your grandparents on a regular basis? No. They live out of state, unfortunately. They used to travel here to visit every summer, but a few years ago they just couldn’t make the long drive anymore and I haven’t been able to make a trip there.

what kind of deodorant do you use? The Secret brand in powder fresh.

did you basically waste your life in school, if the world ends in 2012? We’re still here.

do you sing to songs in the car when you are alone? I don’t drive so I’m never alone in the car, but I do sing along to songs in the car anyway.

do you laugh at other people when they are alone in their car singing? No. have you every actually written a song? I’ve attempted to before.

the world will end in an hour. what do you do? Die? <<< Ha, yeah.

ever visited time’s square? Well, no, since like I said I’ve never been to New York.

do you live in a place that is full of snow or only wishful, in winter? No, sadly. I wish it snowed here.

ever accidently sent a text message to the wrong person ABOUT that person? Omggg, no. I would die.

what makes you relax? I haven’t felt relaxed in a very long time. I really need a beach trip. 

are you one of those camera whores? No? What’s a camera whore? Just curious... <<< Someone who loves to take selfies. I’m definitely not.

what is the longest amount of time that you have gone without sleep? A little over 30 hours.

ever cried in public? Yes.

what color eyes does the person you are currently head over heels about have? There’s no such person, currently.

does the weirdest dream you have ever had involve your history teacher? Uh, no...

d03z iiT b@hHt3R y3wH d@T ii R0t3 liiK3 diiz? it bothered me. YES.

how many christmas trees are in your home during the season? One real one and then the mini one in my room.

do you remember the reason for the season or are you all for the presents? I absolutely do remember the reason for the season.

how many trophies do you own? Zero.

have you ever played any sports that involve a ball bigger than a coconut? I’ve bowled before.

do you still watch cartoons? Yes. Just earlier I was watching Braceface.

what name do you think is the prettiest on a girl? I really like the name Autumn.

do ya know a guy named ben? Yeah, they go by that nickname.

ever told your date you were going to the bathroom and actually left? No.

what never fails to put you in a bad mood? The miserable summer heat.

do you journal/blog any? This is it.

have you ever read any sarah dessen books? No.

what is the first thing that comes to mind when i say green? Christmas trees on my mind now.

have you ever made a threat that you went through with? I don’t make threats.

how many pillows are currently on your bed? I’m surrounded by them.

do you share a bed with anyone, or is it allll yours? It’s alllll mine.

are you scared to be alone after you watch a scary movie? Nah. are you totally annoyed when taylor swift wins all awards at an award show? I’m personally not a fan, but hey good for her.

do you own any songs that are from limewire? Not since the late 90s/early 2000s...

have you smacked anyone’s butt today? No. I don’t smack anyone’s butt.

are you from the north/south/west/east? West.

ya live in America, right? I do.

would you ever want to be a celebrity? Nooo.

did you ever take ballet as a kiddo? No.

[krazyclue]

Italian in Name Only

I am a mixtape of European influences, but the two biggest are Italian and Irish, so it's maybe ironic that I've never been much for family. Not hostile toward it, more like disinterested.

 Italians and the Irish have the reputation of being devoted to their families. If there's nothing quite like a good Catholic upbringing mixed with poverty to convince people to have loads of children, then being middle-class and an only child is the antidote. Never wanted children, never wanted to be part of a family, didn't even really have a notion of them. I just never thought about it.

 Not until lately anyway, and I do not mean in the sense of having children myself. I mean of being suddenly conscious of a growing need to know what my origins are, to see how I somehow fit into the larger concept of a family. When my ancestors arrived in America, what they did once they got here, and how that differs from or mirrors what other families have found. This desire might have something to do with the pandemic and all that time spent alone when the world was shut down—the isolation making me want to reconnect and do so on a deeper level.  

Most of my knowledge of Italy is from the movies, design, and fashion. My understanding of Ireland is even more limited since I spent my only visit there wandering between pubs listening to white guys with 'dreads spinning drum'n'bass. I don't speak any Italian beyond a stray "Ciao, Bella" or "Vaffanculo." I know the second one because English soccer fans used it in a taunting chant whenever they played Italian teams ("Where were you in World War 2? VA-FFAN-CULO!!"). My father spoke fluent Italian when he was a child but forgot most of it in adulthood.  My immediate family is small and spread by time, distance, and some animosity; I know very little about most of the members of my extended one. If I have cultural heritage, it's hard to know what it is.

 I am not at all sure what made me start to think this way. It could have been watching the HBO adaptation of My Brilliant Friend, based on Elena Ferrante's novels. The show is a portrait of two women growing up in 50's Naples. We see their lives against a backdrop of a country coming fitfully to life after the devastation following the Second World War, its progress held back by repressive patriarchy. Grim moments often give way to more ecstatic ones before doubling back again the other way, leading to emotionally vivid set pieces that capture the personal and historical in the same scene. The score by Max Richter alone can induce yearning and seeing the young, very inexperienced cast gradually develop into compelling actors makes the whole experience unforgettable, like the best work of the Italian neorealist cinema.

 But My Brilliant Friend is set in Naples, and my family is from Tuscany. Italy, like the States, is a country of regions that do not always like each other, the north versus the south, and my ancestors would have been culturally different from the show's characters. Still, carried by the show, I find myself more and more drawn to thinking about Italy—I have roots in Germany and France as well, but for some reason, Italy is the country for which I feel the strongest connection. 

 Possibly I am entirely led by my stomach. Early in the pandemic, I started getting into Italian cooking, going carefully through a copy of Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hasan, who you might call the Julia Child of that countries' cuisine. I have a copy of Silver Spoon too, a compendium of real recipes from Italian families, from which I've made a few dishes, and I have my grandmother's pasta maker, and somewhere on an index card her hand-written ravioli recipe. It took all day for her and my grandfather to make that recipe; she stirred the slow simmering meat and prepared the ingredients, and my grandfather painstakingly sealed each ravioli with a fork.

 My German grandfather may have loved his pig's feet and pickled herring, but that obsession thankfully was not passed onto me, nor, as far as I know, to anyone else in my family. I might like a good stout too, even some Irish stew on occasion, but it's Italian food that captures my imagination. I am only beginning to know how each region has shaped that cuisine and the influences that created so many varied dishes. 

 I have not kept up with my family. I hardly know most of them, and outside of my parents and my uncle, I am not in touch with any other relatives. I forget the birthdays of even the closest friends and family; I must mark them on a calendar, or I'll miss the day altogether. My uncle has become something of the family historian and has been sending emails to nearly a dozen family relations. While I do recognize many of the names, there are far more that I do not remember and at least two I only know of by reputation. There are also people I met on that list, only once or twice, and those I saw most often were back when my grandparents were making their famous ravioli to go along with the Thanksgiving turkey, and that was a long time ago now.

 Those emails coincide with my awakening interest in my origins. I know a few more names now: my great grandparents Enea and Italia Lorenzetti emigrated here in 1916 and had two sons; my grandmother's dislike for Enea, a man with old-world beliefs who thought women shouldn't drive, my grandfather's brother, who threatened to walk out if Enea told them how to run their business; a rift with the Catholic Church because a priest wouldn't baptize Enea's and Italia's daughter unless they paid him an indulgence, and that the girl died soon after.

I've seen family photos, the people captured in those images ghost-like in those black and white pictures, and since I am such a mongrel, I do not look at all like them. Of course, I'd like to know more, but really, what I want is a better sense of what Italy is and why I feel so drawn toward it, not only the particulars of my one family's experience. I will start getting to know my family, but that is only the beginning of reconnecting, not its conclusion.

As I read and study (and hopefully get to make that first trip to Italy after the pandemic canceled my trip scheduled for last October), I want to know Italy without romanticizing it. You can convince yourself that life is better "over there" when it's probably the same or worse. Okay, maybe better too, possibly much better. But I don't want to become an obsessive Italy fan. Or fall for obvious cliches—about how Italy is a place where people know how to live. Italians are all passionate and stylish, speaking with their hands, operatic and over the top, and all the other hot-blooded Italian tropes. I'm sure there's some truth there as well.

But Italy also had one of the worst Covid-19 outbreaks and still struggles with a government, often in disarray, that cannot impede the dominance of the Camorra clans in Naples. And Italy still hasn't quite overcome the legacy of Mussolini: a far-right movement led by Matteo Salvini remains threateningly close to taking power, a rise aided by racism and xenophobia. I do not want to idealize or unfairly condemn the place, but rather know Italy and its' people for whatever they are, so I can see how it shaped myself and my family. I want to take pictures in the streets, wander without a plan until I got lost and needed one. Maybe discover my operatic personality.

 Coming out of this lockdown, old age not quite here but getting closer, as in just around the corner smoking a cigarette close, with the world isolated from itself, without any family of my own; maybe that is what sparked this need to connect with a sense of place, a sense of family. That's what being "white" can mean—it's when you've become so absorbed into American culture that your ancestry seems like it started around about 1980 (in my case anyway). I used to joke that my cultural heritage was shopping malls and Back to the Future movies at the multiplex.

 I think that has some advantages to being part of a well-defined community or coming from a large extended family. If you have no family, you won't be assigned an identity by what they think you should be. You won't have as many expectations about your choices before you get to choose for yourself.

 The problem is that you also have no sense of history or your heritage or how your small part fits into it the larger story. You are isolated. You can claim America, the nation of immigrants, but you make a claim not knowing where your people came from, and that might be the worst side effect of assimilation: forgetting the past. I've never known much about mine. I regret letting so much time slip before realizing family and heritage are so important. Now I am going to do my best to embrace my past, whatever it may be. 

[mommytulip]

this is my first ask but i've been on your blog for a while now. mommy i lost a really special person (a family member passed away) a few hours ago and it saddens me to know that. i knew she was bedridden, she's been like that for months until god decided to take her life away. i don't know, it's just unexpected and hard to grasp. this whole time... i reassured myself that she was going to recover and i'd get a chance to properly visit her soon... goodness...we were reallg close, i'm already missing her so much but i'll continue to live on with the precious memories i've made with her within me. it's not necessary for you to reply to this but i really want to get this heavy feeling off my chest. thank you mommy, i appreciate you reading this rant and i'm sorry for taking away your time. take care ^^

hi baby, I'm glad you feel comfortable to share this with me.

I've yet to go through grief, so i unfortunately don't have much advice to give. but my grandma (and possibly grandpa) are on their deathbeds essentially, so i can maybe help with that part.

there's a lot of reasons that you might not want to or be able to go see someone. especially when you know that they're hurting, so please don't blame yourself for that. personally, i won't be going to see my grandparents (on that side of the family) any more simply because it would hurt too much. i imagine it might've been the same for you.

i doubt that your relative was upset that you didn't go see her. regardless, there is nothing to do about it now.

the only thing you can do is work through your pain and keep living the life you want, and always remembering the good memories you had with her.

my grandma has this saying, that my mom and i are saying a lot these days. "one day we will all die, but every other day, we're going to live".

so you just keep on living. grieve. keep your loved ones close and keep her memory alive

[jadestrange]

Death.. it’s not what you think

I don’t know why but ever since I was a child I was soulfully drawn to a character in a drama series I’m to embarrassed to mention the name - She said somehow she’d always known she would die young and indeed she did.

Ever since I’ve never really managed to let it go. I contemplated death from an incredibly young age and I’ve never really known why. No one close to me had even ever died when I was a child, yet death and the concept of the non-existence was constantly on my mind.

I recall for some reason I always thought about it every time we would drive through this one curve of the road near my grandparents home that would trigger it. Every time they drove past it on the way to drop me off at home I would immediately imagine non-existence, something I possibly couldn’t grasp. For some reason “nothingness” terrified me.

Death seems to be motif throughout my life, but to an abnormal degree. Ever since I could cognitively dream, I had only and ONLY had lucid nightmares. I was aware. But never fully in control. If I screamed, my voice disappeared. If ran I’d move in slow motion. If I covered my eyes from gore or horror my hands and eyelids would turn transparent. I think about the age of 5/6 I finally managed to gain enough control to do one thing and one thing alone…Kill myself

It was the only escape. The simulated pain of death within a dream was much more bearable than the nightmares themselves - even though I experienced genuine pain while doing it sometimes.

One time in particular there was nothing to kill myself with. No tall building. No bridge. No water. No knife. Nothing… 

but a wall

So I ran 

over

and over

smashing my face into my wall - until I woke up.

I felt it all

In fact recently I had a similar lucid nightmare. 

The problem with lucid dreams is that the deeper you go the more real and tactical they feel... and the more you feel. 

I often recall ever tactical piece of physical items in my dreams, analyzing them with my hands and fingertips in awe, amazement and sometimes fear at how real they felt. There was no physical telling in the difference between the dream and reality itself. Only the conscious tells whether it is or isn’t a dream - normally due to the absurdity of their nature.

In this Dream people or things were chasing me. Fear pure fear. I don’t know why. But all I knew was that THAT emotional pain was so unbearable that the risk of the pain of jumping headfirst off a bridge was worth it. I took a moment, feeling the scratchy grit of the cold metal poles of the bridge railings inside my sweaty palms. ‘This felt real’ I knew it. ‘But I had to’, it was the only way to escape. I was no longer in the lucid state of being able to control my environment only myself. I had to fight every instinct any real person would jumping head first into the low ground, the only difference was that little shred of hope - that maybe - just maybe I would wake up from the impact before I could feel anything.

I wonder if that’s what people who jump off buildings think as they’re falling down and there’s no turning back - that maybe - just maybe - they’ll die before they feel any true pain.

I paused writing this. A sudden chilly reminder came over me of a boy who momentary lost his sanity and indeed jumped head first down the stairs and indeed died. My friend saw it... I just felt a memory of a dream doing the same thing. That was weird.. I’m moving on

So right death. Another theme I carry is the need to resolve things with everyone and anyone I have encouraged to the point that it is either annoying or maddening for other people.

I guess I felt and still feel like I’m in a perpetual awareness of my death possibly arriving on tomorrows door.

Or perhaps I just want to feel lighter, because everything else, all the hidden things were too heavy to carry on their own. Like a camel’s back I could handle no straw - or more yet not even a feather.

I guess that makes me rather pathetic in other people’s eyes. But perhaps those are normally the eyes of someone who has not felt that weight.

I’m aware that a kg/ton of feathers is the same as a kg/ton of straws ( a metaphor for different the forms of pain if you didn’t catch that) - but how strong are the camel’s legs? How wounded are they? How well nourished were they since they were born? Are they loved or lashed?

Perhaps the weight may seem the same to outsiders eyes however - how it feels internally cannot be seen but merely felt by those who themselves have experienced it or at least something very similar.

I think I have a very confusing and troubling relationship with Death. On one side it always made me aware of the appreciation of my existence (the physical world, emotions, senes, conceptualization)

But on the other side it always came with an impending sense of constant pressure to fulfill my deeds and “pay my debt” in some sense. perhaps that’s not the right way to say it. More like “do the best I can” you know? Leave your mark on the world, give something back, make a positive impact as your farewell.

Which could either be unrealistic or perhaps it is just my assumption how grander that impact has to be. Something big. Something that says “The carbon footprint left by this one was worth it” haha.

Is that silly? Is that normal? Do other people feel this way or is everyone right about me? That I put too much pressure on myself.

Which too within itself seems to be a contradiction since society itself, friends, family, work, reputation, sustainability all requires pressure.

Some say I over think. While I think others under think.

Which is funny - considering I once had a lectuer tell me I was under thinking a script concept when in reality he was under thinking and unwilling to assume it had any more nuances or complexities that was an incredibly difficult topic to tackle.

It’s funny how sometimes you can seem stupid when you try explain something complex because the jargon and general context / information you’ve build up over time seems so obvious to you. Without that context your explanations can become muddled - since they would require a lot of time to give the context.

Quantum Physics for example. I remember trying to explain the concept to my friends in high school. It seemed… crazy - ridiculous - stupid - pseudo. In a strange retaliation my ex BFF went to the science teacher and queued it to come back to our group to tell me I was wrong (after we all agreed to have dropped it by the way).

I of course responded “Yes because a person who’s literally only studied a high school’s equivalent of physics would have the knowledge of a field way beyond her years and degree”

Eh.. School. Not so much friends. More just the people you settle for. Looking back all my relationships were pretty toxic - aside from one. I wrongfully teased my one friend for having hairy legs once and I still feel really bad about it today, in fact I messaged her a few years ago about it saying sorry.

But what the rest did to me… was.. ah.. definitely not on the same scale. I was betrayed a lot.

I got use to betrayal from a young age. Families seem to think it’s funny to undermine things that are important to children. It’s like they seek joy from it, I think they think it’s fun for the kids but it’s not.

Having your secrets shared between your family and laughed at as a child is.. betrayal. Being neglected, left in unsafe or unhealthy hands, unjustifiably disciplined … physically disciplined - are all betrayals.

I got accustomed to it. Silence was the way. Never tell anyone anything. People don’t help you anyway. In fact they often use it against you. Or worse undermine your pain.

It was strange.. I was clearly bullied. Yet I was the one who got sent to a shitty - oh lets just distract you for a bit but not really do anything- school councilor.

Death… mm. death death death. I understand the contemplation at around the time I started school, but why when I was like little little? Why have I always been crushed so easily?

Why was I always a target?

Did I want pity? no.. maybe sometimes (not that THAT ever worked - but no mostly it is was genuine emotion and debilitating pain. Crying. Freezing. Hyper-ventilating.

I wonder if I did it to myself. Had I done something so outright bizarre that deemed my the school target? What it cause I was a year younger? Was the shame of teachers shouting at me due to my ADD in front of my class.

Or was I just Overly Empathetic?  I remember my first day of school…. the teacher shouted at a girl next to me and I started crying - she in turned shouted at me for crying.

Despite being broke now I did have money as a kid. Not like the rich kids of the school but, I had lunch money. Maybe that was it. I shared it too often maybe?

Was I too honest? Too weird? Too much of a push over? It was everything I had every been taught to my by mother’s side of the family. The family I mostly grew up in.

It’s quite sad. My mom could write a way better book full of funny characters and bizarre relatives like a movie - all the drama - the comedy. She started writing - it was good too. But she was too tired from work and stopped.

I think it’s sad because my stories aren’t funny.. just sad. Maybe with some beautiful moments (although the best ones would be indescribable). I think hers would have been better. A story a woman overcoming a broken abusive family and poverty who worked her way to the top of owning her own company.

Inspiring.

While mine just feels like a bummer… maybe that’s just because it isn’t finished yet.