#so this is really nice even if i spent most of my time skimming it looking for the awakening trio

[sieglinde-freud]

actually scratch that. i take back what i said about leo mainly bc odin’s goofy little ówò faces ARE adorable in it and made up about 70% of the reason i now consider the fates manga peak content even if it is sadly only 16 chapters </3

yeah honestly like i know leo was the most popular fates character but i j kinda assumed this was written well before that poll came out so i was kinda surprised?? but from what i skimmed through (and i did read a few scenes in full) its actually rly interesting to hear it from his perspective and i think its p cool especially cuz it might build off of the leo centric drama cd (MAYBE. i dont actually know im gonna have to relisten to that and then read this) but hes j a funky guy. though i also appreciate the scenes with more xander focus bc 1) laslow and 2) hes just kinda like. LIKE HES SOOOO “dont say anything bad about king garon even though hes the worst guy in the history of guys and kills—not just kills but MURDERS people” like why are we thinking like this buddy. ur sooo interesting lets talk about that!!

[moonstruckme]

hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to. 

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment. 

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?” 

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas. 

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.” 

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—” 

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.” 

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks. 

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse. 

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?” 

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly. 

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.” 

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful. 

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?” 

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.” 

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.” 

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo. 

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?” 

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in. 

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you. 

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact. 

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice. 

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur. 

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises. 

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons. 

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed. 

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

[thestarlightexpress]

Kinktober Day 4 - Hatefucking - Eris x Reader

TW: sexual themes including degradation

A/N: this is so late in the day, i spent way too much time reading and not writing, oopsie

word count = 2.26k

NSFW under the cut

Kinktober Masterlist

As much as you hated the High Lord of the Autumn Court, you did have to admit - Beron Vanserra knew how to throw a party. While they may not be as relaxed as the parties you’re used to back in Dawn, Autumn parties sure did have a well-developed sense of finery. 

As one of Thesan’s most trusted courtiers, your official goal was to preserve the tenuous trade routes between Dawn and Autumn and keep a low profile. But to be fair, attending a quick party wouldn’t hurt anyone - or so you thought.

You were leaning back against a tapestry hung on the wall of the marvelous ballroom, watching High Fae dressed in reds, oranges, and greens dance around you. You supposed you should’ve taken the opportunity to mingle with the Autumn nobility but you really couldn’t care less - the glass of fine Autumn whiskey helping you decompress and making you feel just floaty enough to be enjoyable. 

After the week you had, you definitely deserved to relax. You normally excelled at court relations but there was something about the Autumn Court that got under your skin. Or well, really someone - the Heir Apparent, Eris fucking Vanserra.

You could never understand how someone so gorgeous could be so damn insufferable. You guessed that there had to be some balance in the universe. After all, it wouldn’t be fair for him to be easy to get along with and nice to look at. On top of how unbearable it was to listen to him all week, you had also managed to embarrass yourself multiple times by getting lost in just how beautiful he was. How unfortunate it was that he had to ruin your daydreams by running his mouth.

You were so distracted by your reminiscing that you didn’t even hear him approach you. “Having fun?”, Eris drawled in your ear. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d appeared out of thin air. 

You sighed dramatically before glancing over at him, “I was until you decided to bother me.” You took a second to take him in - wearing his finest Autumn attire, his wavy shoulder-length hair impeccably styled, and his pointed ears adorned with gold hoops and cuffs. 

Eris gave you a piercing glare before smirking, “Well aren’t you just peachy tonight? You’d think you’d be glad tha-”

The rage started boiling as his perfectly lilting voice skimmed your ears in just the right way. “Gods, do you ever stop talking?”

Flames sparked in his amber eyes as they narrowed on you. Before you had a chance to react, he gripped your arm and winnowed both of you away.

You blinked and the ballroom faded away to reveal a spacious but quaint bedroom - including a cherry wood four-poster bed, floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a magnificent window showcasing the beauty of the Autumn Court right outside the Forest House. 

Unfortunately for you, you weren’t outside the Forest House, you were pressed up against a door by Eris Vanserra, in what was likely his bedroom. 

The pressure of his hand on your shoulder, his thumb grazing your collarbone, quickly brought you out of your trance. You craned your neck to look up into his eyes, only seeing thinly veiled rage reflected back at you. “Do you really think you can speak to me like that in my own home? You should know better than that, sweetheart.”

You scoffed and tried to push him away but he only held you tighter, “What gave you the impression that I even care what you think? You don’t scare me, Vanserra. I see right through you.” 

While you knew most of the male’s cruelty and insufferable nature was only for show, the fact that he could very easily overpower you at this moment was not lost on you. You just prayed to the Mother that he couldn’t sense the small amount of fear in your voice. 

Something changed in Eris’ stare like he knew something you didn’t. “I don’t scare you? I don’t know about that, princess,” his free hand firmly gripped your waist and you swore you felt sparks under your skin at the touch. “We both know exactly how much I scare you. But, I think you like that.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat - he had realized something you hadn’t even been able to admit to yourself. That despite your best efforts, you couldn’t resist the small wave of arousal you felt every time he displayed even a minute amount of his power. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I know you hate me, probably fantasize about killing me, but I think you fantasize about other things as well.” Eris’ voice sent shivers throughout your whole body. 

He started to pull away before you gripped the back of his neck and kept him close to you, “The only thing I’m fantasizing about right now is how to shut you up.”

Eris released a breathy laugh against your neck before taking your earlobe in between his teeth. “There are many methods to do that, perhaps we should investigate the ways?” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. 

His gaze flitted between your wide eyes and your plump lips, waiting to see who would break the tension first. You figured your night couldn’t really get much worse, so you rose up and pulled him to you.

His lips softly brushed against yours, sending a shock down your spine. Eris reluctantly pulled away, lips parted and ragged breaths sawing out of his chest. He suddenly leaned back down and roughly kissed you. 

Within no time at all, his tongue roamed around your mouth and your hands were hurriedly pushing his tailored jacked off and onto the floor. 

Eris hiked the skirts of your dress up to your hips and pulled you up against the door, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. 

His lips attached to your neck, quickly working at sucking multiple bruises into the soft and supple flesh of your neck. You tried to distract yourself by unbuttoning his silk shirt as you threw your head back against the door. 

One of your hands floated up to tangle in his hair, lightly pushing his face into you.

You tried and failed to stifle your moans, “Oh fuck Eris - I still hate you, for the record.” 

He sharply bit into your neck at your teasing, pulling a raspy groan from you. One of his hands rose up from his hips to paw at your supple breasts. “ Don’t worry, bunny - I still hate you too.”

You smirked and ground down against his very evident erection. “Are you quite sure about that?”, you whispered in his ear. He lowly growled and bucked his hips up, his bulge grazing your clothed clit. 

Eris spun around and threw you down on the bed before stripping off his shirt and standing between your legs. He leaned over and reached around to unzip your dress before pulling it off, leaving you almost bare save for your thin, lacy panties.

He caged you between the bed and his strong chest. You ran your hand over the expanse of firm and freckled skin as he leaned down to kiss and suck at your exposed tits. 

His warm and wet mouth around your nipples had you leaking through your panties and moaning for more. You raised your leg and teasingly rubbed your foot against his clothed cock. 

At the sudden stimulation, he menacingly growled and bit down on your collarbone before pulling back to look down at you. He licked a smear of blood off his bottom lip before roughly gripping your thighs. He flipped you onto your stomach and hiked your hips up.

Eris gripped your hair and harshly pulled back to arch your back before snarling, “You want to act like a cock-hungry whore? Then I’ll fuck you like one.” He ripped your panties off before spreading your ass to take in your glistening cunt.

You really shouldn’t have teased him when he was this temperamental but you couldn’t help yourself. You bit your lip before muttering, “I sure hope so, you’ve yet to deliver on most of your threats.” 

You started to realize that you got yourself into deep shit when you felt the temperature of the room drop as his rage grew and fiery heat radiated off of him. He clicked his tongue before forcefully slapping your ass. “I should’ve known you would’ve been an insufferable brat, just like you always are.” 

You were sure there would be a hand-shaped burn on you in the morning if the scorching heat emanating from where he struck you was any sign. The delicious mix of pain and pleasure had you dripping all over his sheets.

You heard him fumble with the laces of his pants and pull them down, hissing at the cool air brushing against his swollen cock. He spread your legs further apart and ran his leaky tip between your soaked folds. “Fuck baby, you’re already so wet for me. I could just slip right in, couldn’t I? Let’s test that.” Without any more warning, he pulled your hips back onto his cock as he thrust forward into you.

The burning stretch and sheer size of him already had you tearing up. He groaned as he stilled inside of you, giving you time to adjust. However, the alcohol you ingested earlier already had you pliant and ready for him. You huffed and wiggled your hips against him, “Well fucking get on with it already, would you?”

The hands gripping your hips heated up to an almost scalding temperature as he hissed at the sudden movement. He reached forward to grip your hair - arching your back up towards him - as he started relentlessly fucking into you. The sheer force of his cock sliding in and out of you knocked the air out of your lungs. 

Your gasps quickly turned into moans as the pleasure hit you like a tsunami. The tip of his cock hitting a specific spot inside of you on each stroke and his balls slapping against your clit already had you teetering over the edge. “You just have to be a bitch, don’t you? Can’t even act properly when I’m about to fuck you,” he managed to groan out between low moans and growls. 

You gripped onto the silk sheets for dear life. It was moments like this where you could definitely see how powerful he is, the true Heir to a High Lord. You were starting to get overwhelmed by all the different sensations Eris was giving you - the warmth of his hands, the fullness inside you, even his scent of clove and honey from his sheets. Despite this, you couldn’t help but whine for more. “Gods Eris, don’t stop. Fuck - harder!”

He pulled your chest up and off the bed to him before he growled in your ear, “You’ll take exactly what I give you,”. One hand slipped down to rub tight circles on your clit, “Gods, such a good fucking pussy. So tight and wet for me, gripping me just right.”, he moaned in your ear. 

He placed a knee on the bed next to yours to get a better angle. “Do you have any idea how hard it's been to restrain myself around you? To not kick everyone out of those insufferable meetings and bend you over the table?” The new angle had his tip brushing against your cervix, making you see stars as your vision dimmed. 

You could tell he was getting close when his voice wavered and his chest lightly shook against you with the force of his rapid thrusts. Your walls started to flutter around him as the pressure started to mount in your body. 

You interlaced your hands with his as he growled in your ear, “That’s it, bunny, right there.” He bit down into the crook of your neck as his cock rapidly twitched and spilled inside you. The pressure peaked as you fell over the edge, gushing all over his cock as you came. 

He gingerly pulled out of you and laid you down on the bed on your back. Eris leaned down and softly kissed you. Your chest was still heaving as you tried to will your heart to relax. You were so focused that you didn’t notice him slip into the adjoining washroom. He quickly returned clad in maroon sweatpants, with a wet towel and glass of water. 

You propped yourself up on your elbows and raised your eyebrows, questioning what exactly he was doing. He lightly chuckled as he handed you the water, “I may not like you but I’m not a brute, you still deserve to be treated properly.” 

Eris kneeled at the edge of the bed and started to slowly wipe down your shaking legs and through your center. He then laid down some clean clothes next to you, which you quickly slipped on.

Eris sat on the bed against the headboard and pulled you over to rest your head in his lap as you curled up next to him. He placed one hand on your waist as the other ran through your hair. You glanced up to see his head against the headboard, eyes closed with a content smile. He peered open one eye and smirked down at you, “As much as I enjoyed this, we go back to hating each other in the morning.”

You snorted at his blunt command, “Agreed. Until next time, lordling.”. You quickly shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep encompassed by his comforting scent.

[cannibalisation]

i literally loved the tattoo artist!sirius fic you wrote it was literally pure gold!!

if you take requests could i request a James Potter x reader where reader works at the record store and he is a regular— some romance after a while of the two exchanging small talk :3 thought that would be cute!

ill just put 🐙anon whenever i make a request

i. flirt

james potter/gn!reader

thank you so much for your request! and i’m glad you enjoyed my sirius fic. i might write a second part if it is asked for ♥️ (1.3k)

caution. flirty (cringy) james, reader is nervously whipped(?), bastard cat, uncreative title, so many music references, i’ve never written for james before as he is to me the most challenging marauder to write for, i hope that i haven’t butchered his character.

i’m new to the marauders fandom and have limited knowledge, sorry for any character inaccuracies.

THREE hours and twenty-five minutes have passed since you first clocked in.

For roughly two of the three hours, you spent stacking shelves with cassette tapes and lining racks with ageing vinyls. It wasn’t a challenging job; you’d prefer it to anything else, but that doesn’t make the work any less tedious.

You’re more than grateful that the manager of Blackbird Records is not a cruel one. He allows any type of music to your liking, and fortunately he hasn’t insisted on a Christmas carol mandate until late November.

Glenn Frey’s smooth croon of lyric sounds out in the store, and you hum along to the words. It’s mostly empty inside; a handful of customers are dotted around, shuffling through the record bins. A young girl with messy copper-coloured pigtails lurks near one of the clearance bins at the end of an aisle; you pretend to not notice as she pockets a lone cassette tape with a sly grin—she has good taste after all.

Angus, the fat ginger cat of the store, sits to your left. He is a favourite among customers, and his picture even rests beneath the “Employee of the Month” plaque. He is lazy, though; he doesn’t even give you a piece of his mind when you attempt to push his sleepy form off the till during busy hours. He likes lying in the sun, so you are kind enough not to bother him right now.

The entrance doorbell chimes, and somehow, without even looking up, you know who just walked through.

James, though he insists you call him Jamie, has been a regular at Blackbird for quite some time now. And for the last few months, he has been trying to convince you to at least go on one date with him.

He’s nice about it, which you’re grateful for; he isn’t pushy or demanding; it’s really just casual flirting. Every time he comes up to the register to purchase his chosen items, he manages to throw in a cheesy pick-up line. On each occasion he does so, you either grimace in embarrassment or your face happens to heat up.

Sometimes he comes into the store with his mates; they laugh at him when the amorous quips clearly don’t woo you.

James clicks his finger in your direction and winks as he struts past you. He looks nice today, in dark denim jeans and a red polo jersey, much too big for his frame.

With a subtle glance, you watch as he flicks through the LPs that sit inside a storage bin. His supple fingers are adorned with silver and gold rings; you can’t help but admire the flex of the veins in his hands as he skims over the albums.

You retreat your gaze quickly as he turns his head in your direction, how humiliating it would be if he had caught you essentially checking him out. From what you knew about him, which was a limited amount of knowledge, as the only time you see him is during your midday shifts, James was a playful type.

Once you had thought that you’d recognised one of his friends sitting at the same table as you during your psychology class, but he wasn’t exactly discernible. He was quiet and kept his head down for most of the class, but that tweed grey and navy sweater he had on (something you think your grandfather would wear) was too familiar.

James moves on to the listening station now, where the staff picks are located. He turns one of the record player dials and shifts a pair of battered headphones atop his mess of curls. You busy yourself with caressing Angus’ patchy fur as James nods his head along to the running track.

The one-eyed cat observes you with an astute gaze, like he knows exactly what you are thinking. You stare back at him, matching his gaze with equal telling—furrowing your brows to intimidate him. Obviously that does not work, and the beast just looks at you as if you were a fool (he’s right).

The sound of someone clearing their throat breaks you out of the staring contest shared with the cat, and you plaster on your customer service facade with grace.

James stands in front of you now, bronze skin gleaming in the sunlight. God, there was truly no reason to disagree with the fact that he was a cut above the rest. His eyes, chestnut in theory but hazel in the sun, eyed you with a playful look.

You stutter out a quick “Hello” and ask, “Did you find everything alright today?” As he places an album onto the counter. The Clash’s Sandinista!—your staff pick. He had listened to your pick of the week and is purchasing it.

He laughs with a small nod and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, eyes not leaving yours as he does so. You smile politely in return and move to scan his item; your hands are shaking.

Under his gaze, you can’t help but grow self-conscious. He has pretty eyes; there's no denying that, but they are especially heavy on your form today, and you don’t know why. Was the Beatles shirt a no-go for today? You work at a record store; musician-based articles of clothing are practically compulsory.

Despite that, you choose to ignore any building thoughts in your mind and read him the price owed. He complies with a more-than-friendly smile and hands you the exact number of bills. In an amicable—or rather teasing—manner, you bid him farewell.

For a brief moment you think he looks almost dejected, that once again you have rejected his kind-hearted attitude. That idea is quickly erased as James puffs out his chest and clears his throat once more.

“Hey—Do you live on Abbey Road? Because you got me crossing the street just to be near you!”

Oh god.

You see James again on one of your closing shifts. He saddles himself up beside the wall as you finish stacking a shelf with CD albums. His arm rests right in front of your face, and you try not to urge forwards.

“Can I help you?”

“Sure can. You, me, local pub. My mates are in a band and are performing there on Friday, think you’ll like them.” He states, voice like honey. It’s true, you probably would enjoy watching a local band perform, but you doubt you’d even be able to be calm in such a situation. Hours, if anything, spent in an enclosed, stuffy area with James? Your heart would burst right out of your chest.

As he awaits your answer, James grabs onto each CD you place down and flips it around on the shelf. You say nothing as you repeat the action; neither does he. You doubt you’ve ever met someone so annoying, yet beautiful at the same time.

“Come on—I’m dying over here.” He gasps dramatically, dragging his fist across his chest as he jokingly heaves out a final breath before sliding down to the floor. You can’t help but laugh as he does so, removing yourself from the task at hand to peer at him with a small smile. You can already feel the judgmental gaze of Angus before you even speak.

“Fine, fine! I finish at half five on Friday; now will you get up off the floor? It’s grimy.” He quickly does so at that declaration and looks with hopeful eyes. James places his hands on your shoulders and grips them lightly; it leaves you breathless. “Seriously? You’re being honest this time?”.

With a laugh, you grab a hold of his hands from where they rest on your shoulders. “Yes, will you pick me up?”

“Obviously, here, half five.” He lilted before turning away and skipping over to the front door, “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

You hope that you won’t.

authors note. my first request, thank you again and i hope it was to your liking 🫶🏻 please feel free to request anything else! this is my fandom/character list and I’ll practically write anything so long as it inspires me to do so.

[lizzieislife94x]

Its You (w.m)

Requested <3

 GirlxGirl

WandaxFem Reader

NO under 18s 🤦🏼‍♀️🤣

Wandas POV:

I take a nice walk to the library it's nice out and I need to get out of the compound for a bit it was getting hectic in there some fresh air and a good book is what I need I take in all the sights along the way, feeling happy and content it's good to get out while I can, I start college in a little over a week and I've never really been to school before I'm smart really smart just never had the school setting so it's exciting but I have a feeling the work load will be a little stressful at the start before I know it I'm walking up the beautiful stairs heading into the library once I reach it I look around and smile a little as I take deep breath before wandering around isles looking for the perfect book I let my fingers skim over all the books as I walk along gently biting my lip in hopes of finding what I'm looking for.

Y/ns POV:

My eyes skim the books as I look for the book I'm looking for after a minute I spot it and smile I've been meaning to read this for the longest time I reach for To Kill A Mockingbird and gently pull it to me but feel a gentle resistance I look slightly confused as I stop and look through the gap and notice a stunning brunette at the opposite side I take the book and walk round to her side "hey I'm so sorry I didn't know you wanted this, here please you can have it first I don't mind waiting a few extra days to read it" I smile wide as I hand her the book and she accepts with the most beautiful smile I've ever seen "I don't mind if you want it first, I'm wanda by the way" she says reaching her hand out for mine I can't help but get lost in her beautiful green eyes as I take her hand shaking gently "I'm y/n it's nice to meet you wanda and honestly no its ok you read it first I can find something else do you maybe wanna go grab a coffee or something" I say with a smile as she nods shyly I quickly pick another book as we both head to check them out and head to the cute cafe across the street, I get us a table as we order our drinks "so do you come here often" I say making light conversation her eyes find mine as she plays with her rings "I've been twice now but I love it its good to come and relax I like to get a book to check out and spend a little time inside the library reading I feel like it's good to get a few hours of silence" she says honestly as the waiter brings our drinks I say thank you before turning my attention to wanda "I've been coming here for years and yeah I totally get what you mean I love coming in finding a nice spot and spending hours reading here" she smiles as I speak we spent the next few hours chatting getting to know eachother I have a feeling we're gonna be good friends, I find her insanely attractive but I know she'd never feel the same but she's an amazing girl from what I know and just getting to have her even as a friend is amazing "here take my hoodie you're shivering" I say handing my hoodie to her as we're sitting outside the cafe and it's getting late which makes me look at the time "oh my god wanda I'm so sorry I really have to go will you be ok getting home" I say getting up leaving some money on the table as she smiles "yeah ill be fine y/n thank you for today" I smile and we bid our goodbyes as I run to parking lot.

9 days later:

y/ns POV:

"Yeah mom I know listen I have to go I love you but if I don't leave ill be late for my first day back at college, ok bye I love you" I hang up the phone with a giggle as I grab my coffee and head to my car this is my second year back at college and I'm honestly so excited I make the quick 10 minute drive I got an apartment pretty close to the collage once I arrive I park up and grab my bag and phone I smile as I get out and see my 2 friends waiting for me "hey y/n" they both say excitedly as we all hug and walk to class chatting about what we done over break "guys hurry I really don't wanna sit anywhere near the front of class middle to back is fine" paige says as we all laugh and agree we walk in and sit 2nd row from the back as we fall into a comfortable chatter after 5 minutes we're silenced by our teacher he welcomes everyone back almost an hour into the class someone clumsily crashes through the door "I'm so sorry I'm sorry this is my first day I got lost" my eyes snap open to the voice no it can't be the teacher points her up to our row as I look at the empty seat beside me fuck she makes her way up to me as I look up at her and she looks at me a smile appearing on her face as she sits "it's you" I whisper "no way y/n hey" she whispers back before we get silenced I can't help but steal glances at her as we work once class is done we head outside I wait with paige and jade as they look at me confused "why are we standing here" jade asks "I met this girl at the library over a week ago we spent all day hanging out and she's beautiful and amazing and I'm waiting for her so if she's hanging out with us deal with it we have a new friend" they look at eachother and smirk while I look around for wanda I smile as I see her walk out "wanda hey over here!" She smiles walking over to me as she pulls me in for a hug I can't help but enjoy the contact and the smell of her hair is amazing "wanda these are my friends jade and paige, guys this is wanda" I say introducing them they all smile and say hello we spent the next few weeks together all of us hanging out jade paige and wanda quickly became friends too me and wanda hang out alone to spending time at the library or going for late night walks it was amazing.

5 months later: 

Wandas POV: 

"Yeah that guy Dan keeps asking me out and it's gross I don't think he understands the words I don't like men I like women" y/n says while laughing I can't help but feel a little jealous as I fake a laugh along with girls my feelings for y/n have grew so much stronger over the last few months when i first laid eyes on her I felt a connection but shook it off because she wanted to be friends and I wanted her in my life but when she talks about other people hitting on her or taking her on dates it upsets me it should be me "wanda you ok" jade says nudging my shoulder as I look at her "yeah I'm all good" I say faking a smile as I take a sip of my coffee "there's the waitress that always flirts with you y/n" paige whispers  as she makes her way over to us "hey its y/n right? You guys come in here all the time" I feel my sadness and jealousy rising as y/n smiles and speaks to her "yeah what's up" she bites her lip and plays with her hair "I was uh just wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me I think you're breathtakingly beautiful" I see y/n blush as I look down nervously playing with my rings I think jade noticed I'm not sure though I don't think I can take hearing her answer "that could be fun you know what yes let's do it ill go on a date with you" as I heard her reply I stood up and put some money on the table as my eyes water I don't dare look at any of them "I uh I need to go" and with that I quickly run out of the cafe and start running along the side walk once I get a few stores away I slow down and walk as the tears spill from my eyes i should have made a move fuck "wanda! Wanda!" I turn and see y/n running after me once she catches up I look down "I'm fine y/n you have a date to go plan for" she stops me making me look up at her as she wipes my tears "whats wrong please tell me" I sniff and shake my head as she rubs my cheeks with her thumbs "is it because she asked me on date" I look at her and slap my hands against my sides "yeah, yeah it is OK I just I dont" I stop speaking due to the tears "wanda ill go back right now and cancel I'd rather spend time with you" I shake my head and start to walk "no y/n I'm fine why waste your time on a friend when she could be your future" she grabs my wrists and turns me to face her grabbing my cheeks gently "she's not my future my future is right infront of me" before I could let her words sink in she crashers her lips to mine in a kiss full of emotion telling us both what we've been to scared to tell eachother both of us pouring our everything into the kiss it feels like the world has stopped spinning and everyone else around us has stopped, once air becomes an issue we break away resting our foreheads together "wow" she breaths out as I smile "I have been wanting to do that since we met but I thought you only wanted to be friends" y/n confesses as I laugh a little "I've been the same and I thought you wanted to be friends" both of us fall into a giggle. 

2 months later:

Y/ns POV:

Me and wanda have been dating for 2 amazing months after our amazing kiss and confessions I cancelled my date with the coffee chick and asked wanda to be my girlfriend and honestly its been the best 2 months every second with her is amazing all i could want and more this girl is my future.

AN: no smut bc it would have be mega long haha so I'm making this a 2 parter next part will be the fun haha on an unrelated note me and friends are booking a holiday to Turkey for next week so that's fun also unrelated I went for a bath forgot I had sun burn (a very warm bath) and almost screamed when I sat in the tub bc it stung like a bitch hope everyone has a great day/night �

[kafus]

my orre colosseum team

i spent the past month or so on-and-off breeding this team for orre colosseum in XD gale of darkness, a postgame challenge i've never played through before. the long time was mostly due to being in bagon hatching purgatory for weeks

i planned out the whole team before breeding it. orre colosseum is basically like gen 3 VGC - bring 6, pick 4 with team preview, no repeating held items, battles are in doubles format. there's not anything else quite like it in gen 3 especially because team preview wasn't the standard yet, so i was kind of in the dark when it came to teambuilding. i knew orre colosseum NPCs had preplanned teams by the devs, not randomized out of a pool of pokemon sets like the tower/frontier , which is more in line with the original stadium games, and it was usually considered a fairly difficult challenge, so i had to give it some thought

this is what i ended up with after skimming some resources for the orre colosseum format played by real players, but not checking orre colosseum teams in advance as i wanted to be surprised. the IVs here are weird since like i said, i spent like a month breeding these pokemon manually (hatched around 2000 eggs overall give or take, i wasn't counting all of them) so their IVs aren't perfect across the board.

the main two things i was keeping in mind while teambuilding were speed, protection from explosion/self-destruct, and spread moves that affect the whole field. tailwind and trick room don't exist yet and speed control options are very limited in gen 3, so base speed and training in speed is really important. additionally spread moves that affect the whole field like earthquake and explosion don't have their damage cut the same way moves that only target both opponents do in this gen, so they're extremely powerful and a team needs to both have access to these options and be able to defend from these options.

i was also hellbent on not using any legendaries (box legendaries and mythicals are banned from orre colosseum AKA restricteds, but legendaries like the kanto bird trio are allowed) and not using metagross or gengar, two of the gen 3 doubles GOATs and... idk i'm just tired of using them frankly, i feel like i have enough skill to beat NPC opponents without them, even if they're tougher. so that's why i don't have pokemon like latios on the team, etc.

i will admit that while teambuilding i completely forgot about rock resistance which is pretty relevant in gen 3 in general... i have THREE pokemon weak to rock and no resisted switch-ins. BUT all rock moves in gen 3 are physical, and i have three intimidate users, so instead of changing up the team i was already attached to after realizing this, i just decided to roll with it.

anyway with all that out of the way and the acknowledgement that this team isn't perfect, i'll explain the pokemon one by one:

first up, tangerine! she was actually the pokemon i teambuilt first and was most excited to use since i got really attached to the persian i used in my recent firered nuzlocke named after my friend zur. in fact, she stems from zur's bloodline so i let zur name her, and they picked tangerine lol. other than just wanting to use one of my current favorites though, persian actually has really nice moveset options for doubles - fake out is not common but is incredibly useful in any doubles format, and icy wind is one of the very few speed control moves in gen 3. double-edge with silk scarf rounds her off with some big damage and shadow ball lets her hit ghost types... though i'll admit protect is definitely more optimal here instead of shadow ball, i just really wanted to use shadow ball because of an ongoing inside joke with zur & co about it (look up the tag #/freakylocke on my blog and you'll find it eventually)

i've played three rounds of orre colosseum so far, so the easier ones, but tangerine has been popping off, she's very useful i'm so proud of her.

tenchi the arcanine is next, also a pokemon i was hellbent on using. during my firered nuzlocke i was really excited to use arcanine since it's a version exclusive and i almost always play leafgreen, but my growlithe died early on from a careless crit, and after that i was determined to use arcanine in the battle tower or something to make up for that disappointment. i ended up routing that desire to orre colosseum instead! the aforementioned dead growlithe was also named after a friend, my friend babs, who picked out the name tenchi.

he's pretty straightforward - overheat does massive damage and ideally he gets to use it twice for free because of the white herb. hidden power grass provides extra coverage and extremespeed lets him pick off weakened opponents. protect lets allies safely use earthquake. also my first intimidate user!

next up, firegreen! bulbasaur was my favorite starter for most of my life until sprigatito came around and venusaur is still one of my most beloved pokemon. his name was recommended to me by my friend note. i was just really captivated by the comedic nature of his name, lol.

he's the team's weather control and has access to sleep powder. synergizes nicely with tenchi who can throw out really powerful overheats in the sun, even with a stat drop. and of course solarbeam is great in the sun.

his EV spread is really specific compared to most of the other pokemon on this team - he has enough speed to outspeed uninvested base 85 speed pokemon, he has enough HP/special defense to live a modest max special attack latios psychic, and the rest i dumped into special attack. this bulk has proven incredibly useful in some battles already so i'm glad i did his EVs the way i did. the slower sleep powders is also convenient for the following guaranteed sleep turn.

now louie the gyarados (named by my friend Serena who was once again a nuzlocke encounter from my firered nuzlocke lol) is kind of a weird one. at this point i knew i was probably going to use salamence, a flying type, and i wanted a second flying type (or levitate haver) for double earthquake immunity. i had also already added arcanine and venusaur to the team, fire and grass types, and fire/water/grass is a known good type combination on a team. so i combined these traits with gyarados - having yet another intimidate user isn't half bad to have either!

i bring him to battles more situationally, ie. in the first round i brought him against lovrina's obvious full stall team because taunt just absolutely decimated hr and prevented her from doing literally anything, even with taunt's crappy 2 turn length in gen 3. he's really meant as a support pokemon - speed control with thunder wave, taunt - and he's meant to stick around as long as possible and be annoying, hence protect and brightpowder (gen 3 doesn't have a lot of hold items so i figured i might as well). but of course i have at least one damaging option and i picked earthquake for that.

i don't remember exactly how i EV'd him but i do know i calculated his HP/defense to live... some rock move... so yeah his EVs improve his match-up into rock type attacks. i dumped the rest into attack, but i may adjust later to give him some speed if necessary, dunno. haven't needed it thus far.

now here's scramble, the only pokemon i actually named myself... her name takes after the sheer amount of eggs i hatched for her, over 800. it was torture. don't ask (lighthearted)

she's the premier damage output of this team and i often lead with tangerine and her so tangerine can use fake out and allow her to get off a substitute, which keeps her safe from most status moves and an attack, and then she can set up dragon dances and absolutely go to town with hidden power flying and earthquake.

i actually ran into a battle with a ditto out of the few battles i've played so far and wound up in a situation where i had to deal with the ditto copying scramble's own singular dragon dance and posing a huge threat to the rest of my team. intimidate really came to the rescue there lol

somehow she ended up being the only non-kanto pokemon on this team. that was not intentional.

and last but not least, scoop! my friend rat recommended the name ice cream scoop, which obviously doesn't fit within the 10 character limit, but i got really attached to the "scoop" part and went with that. he's very straightforward - incredibly fast max speed coverage that hits decently hard and can clean up games from the back. the lum berry is there to prevent him from getting paralyzed or otherwise have his cleanup stopped by status, an d he has protect for ally earthquakes, explosions, etc.

and yeah that's the team. i love them. they took such a ridiculously long time to put together but totally worth it. i'm excited to get back to more orre colosseum when i get the energy

[gay-dorito-dust]

Good day,

I really like your works! Especially your new resident evil series! May I request a moment of peace in a save room, when our "business" partners helping each other with wounds, catching their breath,maybe eating some raw eggs. Also, it would be great if you will increase percent of romantic tension. It can be in whatever format you'd like to write. Thank you! Wish you a nice day!

Leon Is hella ooc, the ending kinda sucked and idk if I made enough romantic tension as I spent most of this fic giving reader and Leon a jokey relationship.

‘In here!’ Leon exclaimed, ushering you in hastily, wasting no time in shutting the door, where you were left waiting on baited breath for a good couple of seconds as the villagers gave up their search and have their feet carry them back way they came; You and Leon unanimously heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

‘That was a close one.’ You told your partner as you hunched over with your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath as repentance for all the running you did prior. While it was an advantage to being a well trained agent but to also be known as a well trained agent with shit stamina felt like the start of a shit joke somehow.

‘You’re hurt.’ Leon pointed out rather abruptly, his eyes honed in on a partial part of your body.

‘Where?’ You asked, too tired to even bother looking, besides the adrenaline rush didn’t do much to help either as you were pretty much waiting for it to leave your system so you could finally start to feel the pain you’ve had to put off in effort to finding safety.

‘Here.’ He told you, taking ahold of your hand gingerly, where he then proceeded to show you the gash spanning the expanse of your upper arm. ‘Oh. That. It’ll be fine with some antibiotic and a bandage.’ You said, deducing the severity of your wound, ‘it doesn’t look too deep to cause me any serious issues. Besides our mission to locate and find Baby Eagle takes a higher presidency then that of my injuries.’

‘Yeah, nice speech and all but the mission won’t be a proven success if we leave that,’ Leon then gestured to the wound on your upper arm with his free hand, ‘and anything injury related untreated and prone to infection.’ He tells you as he leads you towards a chair situated next to an conveniently placed wooden table, sitting you down on it while he then pulled up a chair in front of you. ‘Besides, I have developed a preference for having my partner to be alive and breathing to annoy me after all is said and done.’ He adds to lighten then mood, which clearly worked when he saw a smile tug on your lips and the playful light in your eyes when you used your free hand to lightly smack him on the arm.

‘You cheeky little shit. I’ll have you know that this ‘annoying’ partner of yours is the one keeping you alive.’ You rebutted, flinching slightly when Leon disinfected the gash. ‘Sorry.’ He utters, trying to figure out a different approach in clearing out your wound without causing you more discomfort. ‘It’s fine Leon, just a little sting. I can handle it.’ You said softly, finding your partner’s willingness to compromise endearing, with your reassurance in mind, Leon continued to clear your wound; where he would stop every now and then to rub his thumb against the back of your hand or squeeze it reassuringly whenever you flinched or hissed involuntary at the stinging sensation permeating throughout your entire arm.

It wasn’t before long that he had properly dressed your wound, double checking that the bandages weren’t too tight on you but yet also not too loose; When your eyes stopped on his jaw and focused in on an sharp cut, dried with blood, running just across his jawline. It wasn’t deep which was a good thing as it meant that it wouldn’t be in need of any sort of dressing but you’d rather be reliant on absolutes then on taking risks; that you didn’t notice your hand had reached up to hold the back of his neck secure, nor the hitch in your partners breath as your thumb skimmed the skin beneath the cut as though he were made out of porcelain, nor the way his pulse seemingly picked up by your closeness in proximity when you gauged a closer inspection.

‘What’re you doing?’ Leon asked before jokingly adding, ‘have I got something on my face or at I so dashingly handsome that you can’t help yourself but get a closer look.’

‘Hate to break your fantasy Kennedy but despite how obscenely attractive you like to perceive yourself as but be a good partner and hand me that there antiseptic spray, you’ve got a good sided cut running along your jawline.’ You informed him, holding out your hand as he pressed the cold can of the spray into your hand begrudgingly. ‘Thank you sweetie.’ You chuckled at his groan, knowing how much he hated this part as much as you did, but it was basic medical procedure 101 and it had to be done. ‘let’s just get on with it before I regret trusting you with that thing.’ He grumbles.

‘Oh don’t be such a Debby downer Leon,’ you told him as you angled his face to look directly at you as you leaned in once more until your faces were mere inches apart and your breaths were fanning across the others face, ‘I am a professional.’ You heard your partner snort, ‘oh like how you ‘professionally’ sprayed antiseptic into my mouth that one time?’ Leon joked but immediately afterwards his hands instinctively gripped onto your waist, pulling you into him a little when you began to disinfect his cut, causing a gasp to slip past your lips at the suddenness of his action and the closeness of your faces; so much so that your nose was practically brushing against his and your lips were ghosting over each other’s.

Yet you wouldn’t allow this to go to your head as anything but as Leon acting out on instinct. ‘I said I was sorry didn’t I?’ You whispered, having finished disinfecting his cut by now and gingerly placing a plaster over the top but instead of pulling away from your now patched up partner, you remained where you were; breaths width away until…

‘Would you like an egg?’

‘God damn it Leon!’ You exclaimed before calming down, ‘but yeah I would like an egg.’

‘White or brown?’ He asked, presenting you with each egg.

‘Brown please.’ You told him, thanking him softly when he gave you the egg as you both began to make quick work of them in complete silence.

[dearestkong]

reflections // end-of-year exams🍓

it's the return of dearestkong~~ i finished my last exam yesterday, and i'll begin daily updates soon!! it's nice not to be in panic-study mode, but I still have a ton of work to do for university applications. here are some things on my mind.

the good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

when it came down to it, i could face the inertia head-on. during the short hiatus i was studying 6 hours a day, most days.

utilising resources: notion has been a godsend!! it used to scare me, but then i realised i was putting too much pressure on myself to make it look nice. a bare-bones table is fine.

it was a tough week (weeks), but i got through it and only cried a few times.

tried to take good breaks. saw a lot (!!!!!!!!!!!!) of beautiful things and ate delicious food.

today i had the whole day free; that's incredibly rare because there's always some sort of obligation going on. so i spent the morning reading, i took a walk, i finished my book in a cafe. i went back to my tutoring job and saw the kids again. i watched tv while cleaning my room. i turned off my phone-- i was determined not to waste the gift so i ended up having a much more fulfilling time than i normally do. and as i think back on it, i was being so stupid. there's nothing that special about today. every day is a gift! if i can do that once, i can do it always.

the not-so-good (.◜ᯅ◝)

felt burned out within the first week of revision but i didn't feel like i was working hard enough. i never feel like i work hard enough, and the problem is that's backed up with fact in my head because i never managed to complete my to-do list-- i went into exams knowing that i didn't do enough question practice or only briefly skimmed some topics.

was overconfident on some exams and underconfident (?) on others. cried before one because all the stuff felt alien to me, but it wasn't even that bad fr. i need to chillax

accidentally met someone incredibly beautiful and was struck with longing during the whole week which is not exactly what you want uring a time of academic pressure, you know?

realised that even when i'm not actively relapsing, i'm still doing a lot of self-destructive things. sleeping at midnight before an exam, choosing my phone over the book i really want to read. staying in bed too long or skipping exercise to rot.. i know all those things will make me feel bad, but i do them anyway. i'm too mean to myself.

in conclusion I MISS POSTING. idgaf if this takes time out of my day, the self-examination really helps me. in the process of writing a new introduction because my pinned has kind of aged out of relevance, but we'll see how it goes. !!! onwards!!!

[papermatisse]

Solace || B.JY

† genre: horror, fluff?

† word count: 5.4k

† warnings: extreme stalker behavior, paranoia, betrayal

† synopsis: when the world seems to be entirely against you, sometimes all you need is a comforting set of arms and whispered reassurances to get you by.

† (a/n): fourth installment of spooktober anthology! stalkers freak me TF out :)! this is also the longest one thus far 👌. enjoy!

† taglist: @scuzmunkie @hipsdofangirl @hydroyaksha

anthology | masterlist

The life of a star is never purely the glitz and glamor they portray it as being, and the same goes for social media influencers. Not that she'd compare herself to a star, because she was anything but. Just an average nobody who managed to post pretty, aesthetically pleasing pictures that appealed to the masses. Though aside from the few hundred thousand people who awaited for her next update, she lived her life just as normally as anyone else. Wake up, go to work, go home. If she was feeling especially daring, perhaps she'd take a different route home just to experience something new. Her free time was spent traveling with her friends and gaining new experiences in life, all the while taking pictures to document her memories forever.

Perhaps things started changing around the time she grew more comfortable with her platform. She'd perfected the art of showing, not telling. Her brief stories were enough to sate the curiosity of her followers, though still maintain her overall privacy. She'd even grown comfortable slapping on the locations of her travels—albeit, she'd post them after she left.

At first, it was mundane. A simple acknowledgement of profile names she recognized as being veteran followers. She'd look out for their sweet comments or if they tagged her in any content. Sometimes she'd even invite them to her live sessions for simple one-on-one chats. There really was no indication of any ulterior motives.

The first time she sensed something off was after having had dinner with her friends, as she scrolled through the comments of her latest post featuring said meal. A single comment amidst the sea of a thousand others, seemingly unassuming at first glance, though enough to stir a feeling of unrest within her.

"The picture doesn't capture how absolutely tender your steak really was."

It left a lingering thought in her mind as she went to sleep that night. It's a common statement, and one she's heard quite a few times, though in the context of meeting someone in person. They usually like to comment something nice like "your pictures do you no justice," or something along those lines. Hearing this comment online, and not even about herself, just felt… off. Though she tried not to dwell on it. There will always be a shroud of ambiguity when conducting communication online. It's a facet of this life that she must consider at all times.

Though as time progressed, the strange occurrences seemed to only intensify from that point on—all deriving from the same username.

DanteanNomad.

She recalled the name towards the start of her account, though he never actually spoke. That comment of her dinner was his first interaction with her. The first of many, so it seemed.

He had begun leaving comments on every new post she made, each comment just barely skimming the gossamer thread of suitability.

"You have such a captivating presence, even in the virtual world."

"I find myself coming back to your profile long after you've posted, just because you're always on my mind."

"I'm always eager to see what you'll share next. It's like a little window into your world."

He even comments in her lives, yet somehow only she seems to be wary of his approaches. No one else seems to notice. Her friends have merely suggested blocking or reporting him, yet something deep in (y/n) knows that won't do her any good. Especially after a certain post she made garnered yet another comment from this person.

"The blue sweater was a good choice."

It was his most unsettling comment. It was mundane like everything else he says, though the underlying connotations were beginning to surface in her mind. Because how else would he have known that she spent nearly an entire hour debating on wearing it before finally opting to do so? And through the gut wrenching anxiety which twisted her insides and tormented her heart, she successfully blocked him.

At least that's what she thought happened. However, he continued to appear on her account, as if her countermeasure did absolutely nothing to deter him. Neither blocking, nor reporting, nor even calling customer support for assistance. Nothing seemed to rid her of this plague upon her life.

His words were beginning to get to her, and she felt herself sinking into a dark chasm of paranoia. As if nowhere was safe for her anymore. As if her own walls seemed to be only a mode of voyeur for his own sick delight. It left her seeking an answer to her anxieties, worriedly searching her home with a wooden bat at the ready, yet coming up empty. Not even a secret camera nestled in any dark and unassuming nooks of her room. Yet these precautions did not sate those paranoid thoughts consuming her.

"How about we host a party?" Belle suggested, hope in her voice as the group of friends sat together at a cafe. "A little house party at my place! Just us. We'll invite some trusted friends and colleagues. Just let loose, without the worries of being in a public place?"

The group slowly turned to (y/n), nestled in the corner of the booth, sipping away at her beverage whilst nervously considering the proposition. Her friends had been nothing but supportive, albeit with a touch of skepticism in their mannerisms. They didn't see the cause for concern in it all, but they saw (y/n) and how the occurrences ate away at her. To them, she was perhaps going through a minor mental breakdown and needed all the support she can get.

So while the prospect of a party made her incredibly uncomfortable, especially during such a strenuous time as this one, she could see where her friends were coming from. She could see their attempts at a compromise. They wanted to bring her relief in the only way they knew possible, which was having fun and forgetting your worries. The thought was touching, even if the idea of a party brought a subtle edge to her disposition. She didn't want to be a damper on their fun. She didn't want to be the driving force to expel her friends from her life.

And so she found herself, rather unwillingly, nodding along to their idea.

With the party in full swing, (y/n) attempted to blend in with the other participants. Some faces she recognized, others she didn't. Names had begun to blur into one, and she found it more and more difficult to keep track of the attendees with every new introduction she received.

Sooner rather than later, she found herself slipping out the sliding glass door onto the balcony. The cool night air was a comforting presence on her overheated body, sharply contrasting with the sheen of sweat residing over every square inch of revealed skin. With the full moon hanging overhead,she allowed herself to drop her defenses, body weary from being on edge the entire night. The thought of leaving revolved around in her head, and she toyed with the idea, amusing herself with silly schemes of escaping under the surveillance of her friends.

The sound of the sliding glass door jostled her from her thoughts, defenses building up once more as she turned around and prepared herself for the battle of socializing.

"Hey," the man greeted, gently nodding her way. He was another familiar face of many. A friend of a friend's, no doubt. While she wanted to dismiss him, she knew he meant well.

"Hello," (y/n) responded meekly, nervously tapping a finger against the red cup in her hands. The man gave her space, which she was rather grateful for, as he approached the railing of the balcony and leant against it.

"Taking a break?" He continued, staring out into the city. Whilst his eyes lingered elsewhere, he carried that air that his undivided attention was upon her.

"Yeah." He never turned to her, and so she followed his lead, staring out at the city below. Though unlike him, her resilience was much weaker, and she continuously kept glancing his way. "You, too?"

"Just a little break. Never hurts to lay low for a few minutes. Get off the freeway and do a little drive."

Such a simple analogy, one that seemingly pertained to solely the party, though she couldn't help but gape slightly at his words. They seemed to transcend the immediate situation and coincide with her exact predicament. And the subtle dose of validation had her defenses weakening by the minute.

"Yeah, I get that. I get that a lot actually." Her voice wavered as her emotions seemed to take over, doing everything in her power to hold the onslaught of tears threatening to be released. The last thing she wanted was to startle away this kind stranger with a sudden bout of crying. Though he was just full of surprises she wasn't prepared for.

"Hey. Hey, it's alright. You're okay." His voice was soft, retreating from the railing in favor of comforting her any way he could. He hesitated in touching her, hands hovering over her body, though his presence alone seemed enough for her defenses to all but crumble as the first sob broke through. And then the next. And soon she was full blown weeping into this man's chest, burying her face into his dark sweater and releasing all of her pent up frustrations.

His arms around her were a comforting constant, rubbing up and down her back and holding her tightly against him. She felt… safe. For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel eyes upon her or the paranoia that someone was attempting to infiltrate her space. It was just her and him. And she couldn't have been more grateful.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, hands grasping at his top in desperation, not wanting this reprieve to ever end. He seemed to understand as he just shushed her and drew her closer.

"It's okay. You're okay."

She didn't know for how long they stood there for, rocking back and forth in this calming trance-like state. As if slow dancing to the acoustics of the cityscape below them. And it was all she could have asked for.

"Thank you. For everything." A final sniffle on her part, and she hesitantly shifted to look up at him. "I don't know your name." He let out an amused huff, arms still wrapped around her body, though retracting just enough to meet her curious gaze with his own delighted one.

"Jinyoung."

The coming days were a mix of ups and downs which rattled the very fabric of her life. Any semblance she may have attained had been washed away with the torrential events succeeding that of the party.

On the one hand, following that very night on the balcony, (y/n) found herself more than grateful to have met Jinyoung. Sweet, attentive, dedicated Jinyoung.

He filled her days with kind messages, reminders she was not alone in this and that he was always there for her whenever she needed him. It was a comforting sentiment, waking up to texts from him and then going to sleep on call with him. He'd send lovely pictures to her, like a dog he passed by on a walk, or the setting sun from the view of his apartment. As if saying he thinks of her in everything he sees.

Jinyoung through his ceaseless attention upon her proved how truly little her friends seemed to acknowledge her and her situation. The way he provided his undivided attention whenever (y/n) deemed to speak on the subject was further proof that her friends had merely granted her a percentage of the help she needed. She realized she was venturing into dangerous ground, though she couldn't deny the feeling that Jinyoung was perhaps the only person she really needed in this lifetime.

And he continued to prove that with every thoughtful action of his.

Though even with this brief reprieve, the plight seemed to only spiral more out of hand than ever initially conceived.

Again, it started out covert. Live streaming with her fans when she accidentally broke a vase of hers. It was entirely circumstantial, and she laughed it off for the viewers, even if she was disappointed in the cute decor she had picked out herself when first moving in.

Within a matter of days, however, the once demolished vase she presumed she'd never see again was found at her doorstep, neatly tucked away into a box. Pristine and brand new.

Her friends all praised the mystery fan who sent it, commenting on how sweet it was of them to do so, but (y/n) grew even more uncomfortable, as all she had ever shown of that vase was a single shard when it broke. There was no possible way for someone to know the exact item she once had.

Her suspicions were soon being proven with the first sighting of a photograph in her mail. Photos of her house. Photos of the cafe she frequents. Photos from her friend's house where the party was just a few weeks ago. All information she's never revealed online before.

The next set of images was that of her in her day to day. Walking with her friends at the park, reading at the cafe, even shopping at the grocery store. Images taken from afar, though unsettlingly close enough that she could have very well seen them had she looked around.

At this point, her friends were now growing wary of the situation, understanding the severity of it all as it had gotten this out of hand. Jinyoung was the one to suggest the cycling method. One person stays with (y/n) at all times. Whether it be staying over at her house or spending the day with them elsewhere, she would always be monitored by one of them.

Surprisingly, they all agreed, and the rotations soon began. Just as Jinyoung had planned, one person would take night shift, and when the next would show up for their shift, they'd leave. Things seemed to work swimmingly, and (y/n) felt more comfortable than she had in ages. She began reducing her time online, as well, keeping her online presence even more professional and disconnected than ever before. If there was anything she was doing to feed this person's delusions, she wanted to put an end to it as soon as possible.

"Where did you go?" Jinyoung asked from where he sat on her couch, eyes remaining on the screen where their movie was still playing.

"I went to get the mail before it got dark," (y/n) responded, pressing her back against the door to close it as she made her way back to the living room with Jinyoung. She shuffled through some junk mail and a few letters from fans before landing on a small mailer package. There was nothing attached to it. No return address or indication of any shipping company, nor did she recall ordering anything recently.

Absentmindedly, thoughts still wandering on the subject of what she could've purchased, she peeled back the sticky opening, reaching in to retrieve the item. Though as her fingers grazed a suspiciously familiar material, she retracted, eyes widened as fear began to settle in once more.

The fabric was unmistakable. Something that had been lingering in her mind for quite some time now, and she both wanted to confirm her fears though also run away from them.

Tentatively, she tilted the package her way, peeking into the mailer for a mere second before a gasp ripped forth from her throat, tossing the offending object across the room.

"(y/n)?" Jinyoung was immediately by her side, movie abandoned as he focused on the panicked girl hyperventilating and staring at the thrown package. His hands wandered about, brushing back her hair, stroking away her tears, squeezing her shoulder, anything to get her back to reality. "(y/n), talk to me. What's going on?"

She was silent. Her throat had constricted upon itself. The room seemed to sway in this infinitesimal spiral, as if her body wanted to shut down, though her brain refused to go unconscious. This painstaking tug of war that left her absolutely deteriorated.

There was a momentary lapse in her demeanor as Jinyoung's presence anchored her to reality. His soft and warm touch grounding her when she could have drifted off long ago. His sweet whispers murmured into her ear, drawing her away from the accursed object lying at the other end of the room. And she was once more glad to have Jinyoung by her side, lulling her to a rare yet ever so peaceful slumber.

When she wakes up, she'll explain it to him. She'll explain how weeks ago, as she did her laundry, she realized her favorite undergarment had all but disappeared. She'll explain how she searched high and low yet couldn't find it anywhere. She'll explain how she briefly forgot about it from how long it's been.

She'll explain how she finally found them—in an anonymous package delivered to her.

"Is this the last of it?" Jinyoung's voice sounded from behind (y/n) as she stood amongst a sea of boxes. A quick scan of the room, listless and barely even acknowledging anything, she turned to Jinyoung with a nod.

"Yeah… That's all of them."

"Are you sure?" He asked again, stepping into the room to stand beside her. She looked around again, though now she felt even less concentrated on the matter as his gentle touch once more rested on her, warmth penetrating through her sweater and stirring a sense of comfort in her conflicted mind.

Another nod, along with a brief and assured smile, and Jinyoung finally seemed sated. He glanced around alongside her, eyes scanning the many boxes scattered about his guest room.

"We'll get to packing after we eat, yeah? What would you like?"

"You can order whatever."

"I want to eat what you want to eat."

Her cheeks warmed under his attentive gaze, muttering something about giving her time to think as she wandered out into the main living area of his apartment—of course, with Jinyoung in tow.

As if he hadn't done enough for her as is, the moment that horrid package arrived at her home, Jinyoung had all but insisted she live with him. At least for the time being. Until she can find her bearings. Find a solution to this ordeal.

It had taken some insisting on his part, as she didn't want to burden Jinyoung anymore than she already had. He urged her into accepting, anguishing over the possibility of her being harmed while he's not there for her. How tormented he'd feel if she were to ever get hurt. And no matter how much she wanted to reject his proposal, insist that she could return home to her parents whilst she figure out the ordeal, she felt compelled to accept his offer. His soothing warmth encompassing her as she wept into his chest, the low timbre of his hushed voice quelling her frightened soul. Jinyoung felt like safety.

His apartment reflected his personage well. As if a perfectly crafted haven for her. Decorating which fit her tastes to a tee, kitchen stocked with all of the foods she loved to eat, even her favorite candle scent filling the air whenever she walked around. Her room as well carried this sense of home with it. Even with the swarm of boxes stacked within it, it felt like she belonged there.

All of this was only a mere factor of her new happy living situation, as the primary source of that security came with Jinyoung's presence. Those texts she had always loved receiving now transitioned into little sticky notes everywhere. Reminders to eat and take care of herself, to text him when she wakes up, silly jokes to brighten up her day. And when he'd arrive home to see her seated at his couch, the mirthful smile that would spread on his face all but melted her heart. The grins he'd give her as they cooked dinner together, watched movies together, existed as one together.

Perhaps that's why she wasn't too shocked when Jinyoung one day asked her to be his.

A sweet and simple declaration of love. With full stomachs and wine muddled minds, he professed how he felt whilst they sat in the living room, movie long forgotten as their conversation hit uncharted waters. His thumb smoothed over her knuckles, eyes ardently staring into her own as he spoke. It was undeniable now how smitten she was with him, something she hadn't truly processed with all that had been conspiring in her life. Though now with the light of the moon seeping into their home, intermingling with the warm orange glow of the lamps, movie droning on as mere white noise in the background, and Jinyoung's adoration practically radiating off of him in waves, she felt it near impossible to reject him. A shy smile and a whispered acceptance, their fates were sealed with a deep and passionate kiss.

A whirlwind romance that seemed too good to be true. Sticky notes exchanged for morning whispers and good night kisses. Cuddles on the couch, Jinyoung's soft and tender touch lulling her into a state of tranquility. As if nothing could ever harm her again. And for a moment, she had forgotten what had led to such happiness. What trials she had gone through to get where she was now.

It was almost scary how quickly she had forgotten what lay outside the safety of Jinyoung's apartment. Even the brief outings with her friends seemed to never spark that subconscious paranoia that had lay resilient up to this point. Her social media had returned to its state of normalcy. Live sessions were back to how they once were. Comment sections were filled with their usual dynamics of love and hate. And through a bit of hesitancy on her part, after checking the account that had been tormenting her—DanteanNomad—she was pleased to learn he had gone radio silent.

It seemed things were back to normal. And there was only one thing left to take care of.

"What?" Jinyoung asked, voice low as he looked up from his dinner plate.

"I think I should move back home." He remained silent, staring at her through his lashes with furrowed eyebrows. She took that as a sign to continue on either way. "I mean, your solution worked! I've been safe and protected this whole time. To be honest, perhaps a little coddled at this point." She laughed, though Jinyoung again stayed quiet. "There's no activity anymore. I think it's safe to go back home."

"I don't understand." Jinyoung put down his fork with a clatter, hands wringing together and resting against his mouth. "What about this place isn't home to you? Is it the guest room? You can just sleep with me in my room. Is the food not satisfactory? Are you not happy with the couch or the TV?"

"Jinyoung," (y/n) cut him off, a chuckle of disbelief expelling from her lips. "It has nothing to do with you at all! I don't know how you could have come to that conclusion. You've been nothing but supportive of me." His eyes seemed to endlessly pierce into her, still waiting for a valid explanation. "I just think… We should have space."

The silence was near deafening. The kind of silence where your ears ring to fill the void. A thick tension filled the atmosphere, this heaviness lingering in the room that felt almost suffocating in a sense. And Jinyoung's eyes remained trained on her. Gone were the warm and loving eyes of her lover. The eyes that would crinkle every time he laughed. The protective eyes she'd wake up to, already watching and waiting for her to wake, too. There was no comfort in his gaze now, replaced only by a dark, cold, unforgiving emptiness that twisted her gut into knots.

"Space?" He asked, eyebrow quirking up at the word he all but spat out.

"Jinyoung…" Her voice was wary, barely even spoken above her breath. "I don't want to rush through things. You have to understand. I want things to be as natural as possible. I don't want to jump into certain stages of our relationship that we're not ready for." Her hand shook as she reached across the table for him. His eyes lazily drifted to her hand and back to her, and after a few seconds, he reluctantly held her hand in his. Though the comfort she sought in his hold was hard to find, his touch feeling cold, uncaring almost. "If you think about it, you'll feel even more excited to see me when we meet. Distance makes the heart grow fonder."

The remainder of the night was perhaps the strangest she's ever seen Jinyoung be. He walked about the apartment like a robot. Eyes distant and calculating. Posture tense and brooding. He cleared the table, cleaned the dishes, prepared dessert, all in utter silence. Even on the couch, his demeanor remained as is. It was as if it didn't matter how close she got to him. The little kisses she pressed to his jaw to try and awaken him from this state. The swirled patterns she'd trace along his chest. Jinyoung stayed in this perpetual state of solitude. And if she wasn't mistaken, it looked almost as if he was thinking. So deep in thought that he barely even processed when the movie ended and she got up to go to bed. A final kiss goodnight, and she went to her room.

The next day was like a complete switch from the night before, with the return of her loving and affectionate Jinyoung. He helped her pack any necessary items, insisting she keep everything else here for whenever she sleeps over. He helped return her home, checked the premises to make sure she was safe, and even helped her unpack afterwards. To top it all off, he decided to stay over, and she couldn't have been more delighted to have this Jinyoung back, cherishing the cozy embrace of his arms around her again.

Like that, she entered another state of normalcy. A combination of her days before the online occurrences and her days after meeting Jinyoung. They'd spend their free time together, go out on dates with one another, alternate houses for movie night. She had to relearn how to live on her own, but the joy of living life without any fear made up for any discomforts she may have felt.

Life was perfect.

(y/n) closed the door behind her with a huff, tossing the sponsored packages she received onto the floor. With a heavy sigh, she trudged through the darkness of her house and into the kitchen, fishing out a water bottle from the fridge before turning to find the light switch. Though as she did so, she was greeted by the sight of flowers on her counter.

It was a rather obscure sight to behold. A clash of purples and yellows and blues. The ones she could identify were baby's breath. So, so many. Practically pooling out of the feeble vase the flowers were tucked away into. Turning the vase around, she searched for a note. Perhaps Jinyoung brought them in whilst she was out. Though when she did find the slip of paper she had wanted, it was empty. Virtually no writing at all. And while she was momentarily stumped, a brief flash of a memory sparked in her head. The memory of an equally blank return address.

A gasp surged forth from her throat, backing away from the flowers until she was pressed against the wall. She clutched her phone, ready to call for help as she slipped out of the kitchen. But then she took a gander at the living room.

The first thing that caught her eye was the pop of green suddenly in her vision—a moss green couch. Atop it were pillows that complemented its shade, and a throw blanket across the cushions. The walls were adorned with artworks she admired, bookshelves contained trinkets she fawned over. And atop the coffee table lay a candle of her favorite scent.

All of these things were mere fantasies to her, nothing more than fleeting desires for a future home. Added to a wishlist of her own to track them for future reference. Yet now resided in her living room as if always having belonged to her.

At this point, her mind was racing, heart beating out of her chest. Her eyes darted around her home to find that practically everything was unfamiliar to her. Paintings, vases, furniture, plants. Everything was different. Everything was what she had always wanted. Yet she had bought none of it.

In a surge of mindless panic, she bolted out of the living room and down the hall, eyes downcast so as to not see the walls lined with more unfamiliar decor. Once inside the sanctity of her bedroom, she planned on calling for help. Whether it be from her friends, the authorities, Jinyoung, someone had to come and save her from this hellscape of a house.

She all but shoved open the door, nerves alight with utter fear from what she had just experienced. Her hand clutched the phone like a lifeline, just about ready to call emergency services before she caught sight of what had become of her room. What nightmare had unfolded in the place she once considered her sanctuary.

Every square inch of wall.

Every available surface.

Every single speck of her room.

All of it was plastered with photos. Photos of her.

Ones printed from her social media just last week, ones from years ago, ones she had deleted immediately after posting, ones she didn't even remember taking. Shots of her walking around town with her friends or spending time on her own out and about, like the ones sent to her in the mail, yet these she had never seen before.

There were shots from her window as she did her makeup. Shots of her changing, though with horizontal dark lines obscuring the full images—grates from her louvered closet door… as if having been taken from within.

Photos of her sleeping in her bed... taken from right above her.

She stumbled back, a gasp catching in her throat as her pulse thundered in her ears. A whispered sob spilled from her lips, and then a defeated, mortified shriek as she crumbled in upon herself. Her body coiled into a fetal position, face burying itself into her knees. Her one refuge which hadn't been violated by this sickening invasion.

She didn't know for how long she remained there until Jinyoung soon came, the familiarity of his voice calling out to her relieving her anguish almost instantaneously. A remedy to her every ailment. (y/n) felt his hands roam across her, gathering her limp body into his own sturdy one, cradling her to him in his protective embrace. He littered her face with soft kisses, brushing away her tears and whispering reassurances to her. If he was shocked by the surrounding area, she hadn't been made aware, mindlessly nestling further into his body and crying out the last of her tears.

"Jinyoung," she muttered weakly, voice battered and defeated. He hummed softly, fingers gently carding through her hair as he rocked the two to and fro. Her eyes were shut, face pressed into the crevice of his neck, hiding away from the horrors of the world, the horrors of what she once perceived as her home. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, my love," he responded, voice mellow and steady. The vibrations from his chest soothed (y/n) as she grew more distant from her surroundings.

"I want to go home."

Those words were like music to his ears.

Everything he had ever strove for. Everything he had ever wanted in life. Like a confirmation that all of his hard work, all of the trials he'd gone through, had finally paid off. He had finally obtained his one sole desire—and he wasn't letting her go ever again.

A smile crept onto his face, a twisted and manic grin as his arms coiled around her tighter, claiming her as a constrictor does its victim. Taking a look around at the memories he had captured of her ever since he first met (y/n) online, he felt triumphant. Succeeding in both capturing (y/n) whilst simultaneously proving how she can never be safe without him. Victory was sweet, but this false vindication for a situation he himself conjured felt somehow even sweeter.

"Of course, my love. Let's go home."

[viperwhispered]

Jamemi timeline part 1

The plan was to put together a vague Emi x Jamil timeline (with the help of this helpful post from yuurei20, my own screenshots and the wiki), but… It ended up not quite so vague.

So y’all are getting this in 2 or 3 parts. Hopefully it’s of interest!

This first part will cover the time from the beginning of the game / schoolyear until the end of book 4.

For more info on my yuusona, you can find the masterpost on Emi here, part 2 of this timeline here, and part 3 here.

Jamil and Emi first meet during book 2, when Emi & Heartslabyul gang are investigating the spelldrive injuries. Jamil, of course, is aware of Emi from what happened during orientation, and probably has been keeping an eye on her - you know, just in case. 

Neither one of them leaves a particularly strong impression on the other - they both find each other nice enough, but rather unassuming. Still, they’re at least somewhat aware of each other after that - Jamil paying more attention to the magicless Prefect and all the hubbub surrounding her than she does to him.

And then comes book 4. Emi’s a little more adjusted to Twisted Wonderland and NRC, but she’s also been through Riddle’s overblot, Leona’s overblot, and the more long-term stress of dealing with Azul’s demands.

So, when winter break rolls around, Emi’s dreaming of a peaceful holiday spent lost in books (because escaping to fiction is part of how she copes - she’s been making extensive use of the campus library ever since she arrived).

The campus is so quiet with most people gone, surely she’ll be able to just chill and unwind?

Yeah no, getting dragged into Scarabia’s business it is.

For what I checked, the Prefect and Grim spend two nights in Scarabia and escape during the third night on the magic carpet. So that’s two full days of marching to the oasis and all that other stuff, and three evenings spent conversing with Jamil and the others. (Feel free to correct me on my canon details tho, since I did just skim through my screenshots instead of a thorough reread.)

During their forced stay in Scarabia, Emi buys Jamil's act hook, line and sinker. I mean, she finds all his flattery a little weird, but chalks it up to cultural differences and Jamil really wanting to convince them to stay and help. 

Though it is a little weird, how she suddenly agreed to stay and help like that - and how she can only think of Jamil’s pretty eyes when thinking back on it.

But, like, she has more pressing things to worry about than that weirdness.

Overall, Jamil seems like a steadying, calming presence in the chaos that is Kalim’s mood swings. Plus he seems like a sensible, reliable person in general - and the whole dorm seems to agree. So Emi definitely drifts towards / becomes partial to Jamil during this time.

When Kalim casually mentions Jamil being his servant and having been with him since childhood, it definitely catches Emi off-guard. She's not used to such arrangements or to dealing with people who’d be rich enough to have people serving them - and Kalim, of course, is at the extreme end of that spectrum. 

The more Emi learns about the extent of Jamil's duties and how long he's had his position, the more bothered she is. Of course, it's not her place to judge, different norms and all, and if Jamil seems fine with it… (🙃) But it just doesn't really sit right with her, since it’s so far out of her realm of experience and from the sort of responsibilities she thinks should be placed on people at that age. Kalim being so capricious here certainly doesn't help her unease any.

I’m sure Jamil would pick up on Emi’s unease whenever Jamil’s servitude would come up. What I’m not sure is if he’d realize what exactly makes her uneasy. So he might just think she looks down on his position or something (poor guy).

On the other hand, the more questions Emi asks (because I think she’d be unable to keep herself from being curious, because what do you mean you’re actually a servant and have been for years), the more likely Jamil is to see that she’s someone who could see the untenability of his position, or offer him some sympathy - or pity, which I suspect he’d be less enthused about.

I still can’t decide when, exactly, Jamil would be catching feels - and when he’d realize them, which is a whole other thing. But this time together - as much as it would be under false pretenses - would certainly give him a fair bit more insight into Emi and her character, compared to what he’s learned mostly second-hand before.

Anyways. Magic carpet happens, and Emi & Grim find themselves at Octavinelle.

Emi’s not exactly delighted about getting the octatrio involved, but it’s not like she has much of a choice in the matter when that’s where the carpet crashes her and Grim. She’s not much involved in what Azul and the tweels are up to, but can certainly sympathize with Jamil struggling to adjust to the disorder they bring.

And then Jamil’s true colors come to light.

It’s only later, when she’s had time to reflect, that Emi starts to suspect that Jamil might’ve used his signature spell on her as well. Still, already at the moment of revelation, she comes to realize how Jamil’s been lying to her and Grim, while getting them involved in the situation.

So it’s Jamil who actually had her marching in the desert and kept her locked up in the dorm, all the while acting oh so concerned. What a jerk.

Plus, Emi being afraid of snakes doesn’t exactly help matters during the overblot.

It’s not like she’s wholly unsympathetic to Jamil’s situation, from what she can gather about the strain he’s been under. Still, she feels hurt, betrayed and used, having trusted Jamil only to find out just how misplaced that trust was. Thus Emi goes from having sought Jamil’s insight and even support to giving him the cold shoulder.

She’s pretty shaken, too - yet another overblot, yet another fight. Plus the stress of having been confined to Scarabia without knowing when she and Grim might be able to leave, and just what might happen until then.

So much for that peaceful holiday trying to recover from all the stress and trouble before this - instead she got some fresh trauma and worries, yay. 🙃

Jamil, meanwhile, gets to watch Emi join the ranks of all the others who are now looking at him with suspicion and seem to want to give him a wide berth.

[squarebracket-trickster]

Writer Q&A Tag Game

Thank you @sunset-a-story for ALSO tagging me way back in August. I AM SO SORRY

1. What motivates you to write?

It itchy, itchy urge to create something. I NEED it OUT. I MUST make sense of it ALL. The thoughts need ordering and putting together to maximize the happy chemicals. I see something I like that someone else made and I get jealous so I must do something like that, but MY way, and BETTER. It all makes me very itchy (restless).

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

I skimmed my entire 3rd draft (so far) to pick a line. There are a lot of good ones but none I liked more than the rest - I couldn't choose. So... I know I've already shared this one but dammit. It is a kickass line. It's also the first line of WIPVII - and you do not know what devils I sold my soul to to escape THAT writer's block.

I will live, I tell myself through the salt water in my eyes and the sting of the south wind on my face. This will make for a good story one day.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Banter and wit. Which is funny because I always thought that was the thing I would struggle most with - I was the academic overachiever who took herself too seriously in school. But when I reread my drafts there is something that makes me laugh in nearly every scene. Most of my highlighted lines are banter or retorts.

6. What do you enjoy most about the Writeblr community?

I love seeing writeblr content on my dash and I looooove getting interactions when I liveblog my writing. It is so nice to be able to share this with people who love it too (rather than inflicting it on my poor irl friends who are not writers). I just love all you Writeblr friends so much!

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

A 2x3.5' and a 3x5.5' whiteboard with a rainbow's worth of whiteboard markers in different thicknesses for brainstorming, family trees, timelines. My sketchbook, a mechanical pencil, and YouTube drawing tutorials for my maps and concept art. MS Word, dark mode, Times New Roman pt 11, with comments enabled for my manuscripts, outlines (bullet points), and worldbuilding notes. Subfolders within subfolders stored on my PC to organize all my Word docs. Two separate USBs which my completed manuscripts are saved to (in case something happens to my computer AND one of the USBs).

I have yet to find any worldbuilding or map making software (and it hasn't been for lack of looking) that gives me enough flexibility. I have yet to find any writing software that has features Word doesn't but that would actually help my process rather than overwhelm me.

I do want to write out a draft of WIPVII by hand at some point (though with my penchant for writing hand cramps this might be doomed). I also want to try an electric typewriter.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

WIPVII doesn't have very complex worldbuilding (there is no magic and most of it is ripped from real world history) but I do always love it when authors tell us what way the wind is coming, what smells it carries, what the view is in the distance, whose lands those are... that kind of stuff. Really creates a sense of place. I spent a lot of time mapping all this out in my own novel and I am very happy with it! The description feels so rich!

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Learn more about the craft. Writing is problem solving. If you aren't happy with something figure out why - the mechanics and technique behind writing. If you're still stuck learn even more. There are so many great, free resources on tumblr, youtube, blogs, pinterest (though it is most stolen from tumblr) even twitter and tiktok.

Also, learn how to filter out what advice is helpful now versus what should wait for later so you don't get overwhelmed. If you haven't even written a first draft yet don't bother with pacing, exposition, line editing, or let alone how to query. Just focus on the macro-stuff like plot and character arcs.

Tagging with the lightest brush on the shoulder these nine alleged humans: @cheeto-flavoured-pasta, @alnaperera, @bluberimufim, @daisywords, @boundedsea, @full-on-sam, @writernopal, @ashen-crest, @surroundedbypearls

[castlebyersafterdark]

Curious about your take on some of the big fandoms with canon gay couples that are popular right now as a guy whose super into Byler and how they stack up and if you're also into them. Mostly because I like all of these but they just don't hit as much as Byler for some reason and the possibility that they won't be canon haunts me. As much as I feel like we're being spoiled lately with good queer rep it would be so much bigger through ST. These: ofmd, rwrb, 911, wwdits, iwtv

I agree that nothing really hits as much as Byler for me and never has, but most of my previous fandoms have been very big ones with minimal possibilities of canon gay couples or even gay characters at the forefront. So that's what's exciting for Byler - that it is very very likely to be true and Stranger Things is as big as the other stuff I've fixated on, this time with a queer storyline that can't be edited out for the overseas box office or touted as the 34th first gay character who appeared for 3 seconds in the background and is a bug lady with a bug wife or some shit haha. Byler is gonna be a game changer - because of the size of it and how mainstream the show is. Hell yeah. Keep the faith! And best friend to lovers is my favorite trope and to have one so well done is rare and I think that's why the brain rot is invasive to the core here.

Hmm. Look at all those acronyms haha.

OFMD - Watched the first season and good for them! Much love to older gays. Cool that this show kind of had a major moment. Didn't watch the second season. Just wasn't that into it, the humor wasn't really hitting for me? Maybe one day.

RWRB - Maybe I would have liked it more if I read the book. It was cute? Kind of simple? Almost too cute? But always nice to see more gay love stories hit the mainstream. I'm sure readers were stoked it got made into a movie. This one was part of a 'smoke up and have a laugh' night for me and you know who hahaha Also, the American guy was hottttt but he was not a good actor!! This was based on fanfic right? I think that's kinda cool. But you could tell.

911 - I'm happy for yall and for yall's firefighters but I know literally nothing about this one.

WWDITS - Never watched it.

IWTV - Also never watched it. But it looks kinda interesting. Maybe.

I think the overall thing to take away here is it's so fucking cool there's a list to have opinions on at all?? I feel this barely skims the surface. We've a ways to go and fandom is certainly helping make queer love stories mainstream and widely accessible. Spent my younger days deluding myself that they were gonna make Stucky canon or Andrew Garfield's spiderman bi even though I knew that was super lame to hold out hope for and now here we are with the reality of Byler which is part of one of the most major IPs around.

[totally-not-deacon]

WIP Wednesday, Baby!

Thank you for tagging me @throughtrialbyfire!! Gonna tag @molliehaswords, @bokatan, and @kemendin, as well as whoever reads this! Consider your ass tagged!

Anywho, I've gone on like, a massive writing binge that showed up outta nowhere, so the hard part's gonna be what to actually post lmao. I think I'll go ahead and give you a snippet of the next chapter of Arenthia Red. We're at the top of the roller coaster baby, and it's all downhill from here!

“Are, um…” Lucien hesitated, taking the drink she offered gratefully. “Are you alright?”

“That obvious, huh?” she groaned, yanking the cork from her bottle, taking a long drink before continuing. “I will be. Just, ugh, not only did we get dragged halfway across the province over a hunch an old Blade had, it had to be the most insufferable one I’ve had the displeasure to meet.”

“You’ve met other Blades? When?” Marasa gave him a flat look, tapping on the Dominion insignia on her brigandine. “Oh… right.”

“Yes, I did not like the way she tried to push you around. We do not know her.” agreed Inigo before grinning. “Though I think you got under her skin just as much. That was quite fun to watch.”

“She certainly rubbed me the wrong way as well. And Inigo is right,” Xelzaz chimed in. “If she’s a Blade, and you’re Dragonborn – isn’t she supposed to take orders from you?”

“Well, no one said she was good at her job.” Rooting through his pack, Nebarra grumbled without looking up – seemingly getting more annoyed by the second while his bottle sat untouched. Marasa bumped his shoulder, holding a spare reed out for him. He looked at her – presumably curiously, not that she could tell – for a moment before taking it with a quick, mumbled thanks.

Their conversation ebbed and flowed as some grabbed a hot meal, or in Marasa and Nebarra’s case, a few more rounds. She was just happy to take the conversation off of Delphine and on to… anything else, really. Lucien and Xelzaz had gotten into some kind of scientific debate she wasn’t even going to pretend to understand, so she tuned them out. Instead, she and Inigo reminisced about the jobs they’d done when she first arrived to Skyrim – the ones she could remember, anyway. Even Nebarra spoke up a few times. Despite her insisting her forgiveness, even if it was a bit slurred by now, Inigo still expressed guilt over how their partnership had ended. She wouldn’t let him continue the self-flagellation, though, and tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“C’mon, tell me something fun!” she hiccuped, well into her third bottle by now. Her volume had been steadily increasing with each one and the other bar patrons were beginning to take notice. She could very much be a loud drunk. “Besides the Rift, what’s your favorite place you’ve been to?”

“Well, my brother and I spent a lot of time in Cyrodiil. The trees in the Great Forest were very pretty in the autumn, almost as nice as the Rift.” She nodded along, though her smile faltered, brows knitting together. Maybe talk of the forest made her feel homesick, he reasoned. He’d skim over that, then. “We found much work in the area, especially in Chorrol. There were many beasts and bandits that needed to be taken care of. We had a great time there.”

“C-Chorrol…?”

Something about her tone immediately caught Nebarra’s attention.

“Yes! If you have not been, I recommend you visit. It is a very nice city.” When she didn’t respond, his tone softened, colored with concern. “My friend?”

“I…” Her throat felt dry, armor felt too tight – too hard to breathe. Their eyes were all on her, she knew they were, boring into her, watching every move. Her chest pounded, and she could feel sweat pricking the back of her neck. She needed… She needed –

Marasa shot to her feet and turned heel to her room, not looking back and slamming the door behind her. The table fell silent, all of them watching where she’d gone. Inigo’s cheery attitude fell guilt-ridden once again, ears pinned back. He wasn’t sure what happened, but it had to be his fault. He was about to follow her when Nebarra held a hand up.

“Don’t. Let her be.”

“But I need to apologize. I do not know what I said, but I have made her upset –”

“Do it later.” he said firmly.

[cherrycoke-ruralroads]

watching paint dry | f.w. | s.o.l

A/N: This is my first fic! Hopefully, it's written in a way where it can be read as either platonic or some secret tension that's slowly building over time, whichever you prefer. It's like a slice of life, just a simple story of relatively normal interaction between two friends. Peace!

Summary: Banter between two friends after taking a break from painting. Little bit of swearing, implied friendly innuendos. 1958 words.

You sighed quietly and slowly walked over to your bucket of water to clean your brush of paint. The bristles soaked up the water as you dipped the 4 inch chip brush in. You took your fingers to the bristles and preened them between your fingers under the water, then swept them in a circular motion across the palm of your hand. Though wanting to be done with it, you were thorough. A couple of extra minutes spent meant that your tools would last. You wet the brush and took a swipe of a bar of soap across the hairs. You pointed it upwards so that the soapy water would soak down to the ferrule, getting to any paint that had made its way there. You took it to your hand again with the circular motion, this time with your hand above the brush, before dipping to the bottom of the bucket for one last circular scrub. You skimmed through the bristles to make sure there was no paint left, then beat them quickly against the lip of the bucket to get rid of excess water, which was fun.

Course, you could have done this all with an apparently simple spell, though not apparent to you. The Scouring Charm was pretty unpredictable when you, usually decent in charms, cast it. You set the brush aside on a towel, which also held washed roller, and a couple of other brushes. You took the corner of the towel and just really quickly dried your hands.

Now for the paint to dry so you could get on with it, though honestly you didn’t want to continue the work today.

You sat down across from your soon to be mural, and waited. You probably waited two minutes or so before getting back up and making your way to the painting. To be fair, it felt longer, but of course when you touched it slightly, you got some paint on your fingertips. It was still wet enough that there would be no fingerprints imprinted in the paint, and if there had been, well it was going to be covered in plenty of layers anyways. You spread the paint from the tips of your fingers onto the pad of your thumb, then from your thumb down the side of your index. Instead of, obviously, cleaning your hand in the bucket of water.

You sat back down. The halls were pretty empty. In fact, only a few students had quietly walked by while you were painting over the course of the last few hours. It was Friday evening, so most students were grabbing some food in the Great Hall, or in their common rooms or whatnot, and if they were hanging about the hallways, they didn’t happen to be hanging around here. It was nice. You had swung by the Great Hall earlier and nicked some food so that you could eat when you took a break.

You were focused on picking up the last bits of pie crust crumbs on the plate, the crumbs breaking into smaller pieces every time you tried taking the fork to them, when you heard footsteps coming down from your right. You looked and saw a red headed boy, tall and broad, shoulder length hair. You couldn’t tell at that point based on features which twin it was, but you figured based on the sweater, that is was Fred, because that’s what he wore earlier that day. You weren’t sure at what point the correct distance between him and you to say hi was, so you just looked at him with a closed-mouth smile until he was 10 or so feet away.

“Hey,” Fred said, as he looked down to you and smiled.

“Hey, whatsup?”

“Not much,” Fred paused as he sat down next to you, one leg bent and one leg out, “just mucking about, I suppose. You?” He put his hand into his sweater pocket, “Want some?” He pulled out some chocolate. “You got paint on your hand, in case you probably hadn’t noticed” he added smugly.

“Oh, yeah, thanks! And yes, I know.” You grabbed the wrapped chocolate ball he was offering to you. “Just waiting for this paint to dry, it’s something they want for…” You stopped as you were unwrapping the foil to the chocolate, eyeing it and Fred in a sort of light-heartedly suspicious way. “This,” you asked, tilting your head downwards slightly and looking at him through the tops of your eyes, eyebrows raised, “this isn’t something along the lines of your Canary Creams, is it?”

“Ha, no, this time it’s just chocolate. At least, I hope so, since I’ve had some too. Tested enough stuff today.” He chuckled.

“You sure?” You sort of chuckled breathily as you said it, but, you did want to be sure.

“Yes, Y/N.” Fred said, not dissimilar to how a teen might playfully say ‘Yes, Muuuum’.

“Good. Though, ‘suppose there’s worse birds to be” you said, before you threw the ball of chocolate up. You did not catch it in your mouth. It sort of hit your chin, onto your chest, where you tried grabbing it, but then it bounced and rolled into your lap. You grabbed it quickly and shoved it into your mouth.

“Oh wow, good one, truly skilled and truly impressive you are,” Fred said sarcastically and he laughed and smirked.

“Oh shut it,” you said, slightly unclearly as you tucked the chocolate in your cheek to speak. A friendly blush from the situation rose to your cheeks.

“Anyways,” Fred chortled, “you were saying? About why you’re painting this? It looks nice, so far by the way.”

“It looks nice? Yeahhh, sure, it’s literally three different colours of grey. It’s just the base layers.”

“Well yeah, I figured that, but, you never know! Like, what if I said ‘what’s it going to be, hows’it going to turn out?’ when it was actually your already finished masterpiece, right? If I say it looks nice, it means A: I’m complimenting you, B: I’m not making any wrong assumptions. Win, win, or, apparently not! Bloody hell, Y/N, just take the bloody compliment!” he explained, teasingly flustered.

“Riiiight, I don’t even to know how to respond to all of --”

“By thanking me!!” he blurted, tongue-in-cheek.

“Alriight, thanks.”

“You are very welcome, Y/N. Anyways, fucking hell, you still haven’t told me what it’s bloody for!”

“When did I have the time after your whole monologue?” you said, laughing with spirit. “McGonagall asked me if I could do a mural for some winter dance thing or something.”

“What winter dance thing?” Fred asked.

“I’m not really sure. A ball, I figure. She says there’ll be an announcement of some sort during the Halloween Feast, which is, you know, I’m sure great and all, but it doesn’t really help me with painting the mural now.”

“I wonder what it will be. If it is a dance, I know plenty of boys who will go wild trying to get one of Beauxbatons girls. Especially dear old Ronniekins. That will be a sight to behold.”

“Oh come on, like you’re not one of those boys, swooning over them!” you teased. Fred was your close friend, you knew him well enough.

“Absolutely not, annnddd, even if I was, they’d be swooning after me!” he stated lively.

“Yeah, uh huh, sure.” You thought his confident banter was funny, and you wanted to make fun of it, even though you figured he was probably right about at least of some of the girls swooning over him. In the courtyard, he would catch a couple of the Beauxbaton girls looking at him, or they would catch him admiring their assets, and he would make his way over to them to charm them with his wit and magic tricks. And it worked. After these interactions, you would always blurt out laughing and call him a moron.

“Well, ya know what, what can I say? The French accent always gets me ‘hon hon horn’ --”

“Don’t finish that Fred, I swear to Merlin!”

“What, you saying the French accent doesn’t get you ‘hon hon horrrrn---’”

“Frreed!” you said spluttered as slapped him comically on the shoulder. Though you didn’t want to encourage him, it was a funny joke and you struggled keeping your laughter in.

“Alright, alright” he gave in, while rolling his eyes and smiling. “But come on, what about you? Any of the new visitors we’ve got pique your interest?”

“Pique it? I don’t know, I don’t think so.”

“Surely there must be one. You know you’ve gushed while talking to the ones we had conversations with in the yard.”

“Gush? Whaddya mean gush??”

“It’s just who you are. I don’t mean you’re a flirt, like I am,” he paused and smirked, “but you’re a very bubbly person, and coupled with the fact it’s very obvious when you find a boy attractive, -- yes Y/N, it’s obvious -- you sorta … gush over them. I am not saying you’re in love with them, you’re just flirty in a non-conscious way. Besides, I don’t think the guys mind and they probably just think you’re really friendly. It’s just because we know you well enough that we notice, that, AND we’re not as thickheaded as those Dum Dum Durmstrangs.” Fred explained.

You thought about it. What he was saying made a lot of sense, though it was embarrassing and you didn’t want to admit that Fred was even partly right. Your cheeks became hot.

“You’re blushing, by the way. So I know I’m right.” Fred pointed out and laughed quietly. He then tilted his head back and rested it against the wall, looking up at the great heights of the Hogwarts ceiling.

“If anything, you’re thicker than a ‘Dum Dum Durmstrang’. ANYWAYS,” you lilted as you got up from the floor, “the paint’s probably dry by now.” you said, refocusing your attention on the mural you didn’t want to keep working on. If you were going to keep at it, you had lost your chance the moment that Fred turned the corner of the corridor, because your brain finally had a proper excuse to give up for the remainder of the evening.

“You know you don’t want to, Y/N.”

“And what, pray tell, do I want to do, Fred Weasley?” you inquired with a slight grin.

“You want to hang with George, Lee, and I. Maybe some of the girls if they decide to join in. We’ll be testing some new stuff we’ve made.” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Thought you said you had enough of testing stuff today?”

“This should be a little bit more fun and chill for the tester, if you catch my drift.”

“I don’t… wait… do I?” you looked at him curiously, asking him to confirm if you were on the same page.

“Yeah. You do.” He nodded and scrunched his face up into a friendly smirk.

“Mmm.” You wanted to, but you felt like you should continue painting. You looked at the wall, then to Fred, back and forth to make a comical point.

“Y/N.” he laughed. “It will be more fun than watching paint dry,” he quipped.

“Well yeah, with me it will be,” you quipped back. You convinced yourself to go. You quickly put everything away in the very conveniently placed storage cupboard, and made your way down the hallway with your friend. He put his arm around your shoulder and you tried to do the same as well as you could, and you both skipped down the hallway like total lunatics, laughing giddily.

And so this became a regular thing, every time you had to watch paint dry. You loved watching paint dry.

[ask-andrew-montrose]

A familiar owl flies into your dorm room. Surprisingly, it does not have an envelope in its talons but a rather short note instead, covered in cute colourful doodles of pumpkins, and bats, and sweets. When you take it into your hand, however, the doodles protrude from the paper creating a three-dimensional image: pumpkins have carvings on them that light up as if there are candles inside, bats flap their wings, sweets turn into bars of dark chocolate, salty nuts, and pretzels. But despite all that, it distinctly smells of lavender.

My dear Monty, Please tell me Theodora did convince you to go to the Halloween event today! We spent weeks organizing the Ball and I would really, really, REALLY love to see you there! It is only for years 6 through 7 so it would not be too crowded. You don't have to actually participate in games or talk to people if you don't want to. But it would mean a lot to me if we... [this part of the writing looks a little out of place: if you squint hard enough, you might notice the traces of the ink vanishing charm, the new text written in its place] spent some time together. I wonder if you'll like my costume~ With hopes of seeing you there, William ☀️

Once you put the note down, all the images become flat once again.

Andrew is in the middle of trying to mentally prepare himself for what is probably one of the hardest holidays for him. Between the candies being offered everywhere, and the costume Theo lovingly sent over to him earlier that day....he wasn't sure if he was going to make it.

Speaking of the costume, he had spent more time grimacing at it than it would have taken to just put the damn thing on. Theo had anticipated this, and even mentioned the threat of wrangling @ask-felix-aberg in to make sure he wore it in the event that Andrew tried to avoid the inevitable.

He groaned.

But just as all hope was lost, Montrose spots his most frequent owl visitor. Except this time...the parchment in his talons was very curious indeed. Getting closer, he was immediately intrigued by the festive doodles all over the lively paper. At the touch of his hands, he inhales sharply as it comes to life in the most enchanting of ways.

He smiles begrudgingly at such a personal touch. The dark chocolate, nuts and pretzels were a relief, and welcome treat indeed.

And then that lavender.... well, that wasn't too bad of a treat either. His eyes skim the letter, softening at what looks like William having a hard time writing one curious bit. He sighs lovingly and makes sure to bold one part specifically to reassure his silly fox.

My Fox,

I admit....I wasn't sure if I'd be up for it, but since you ask much more nicely than Theodora...Congratulations. Consider me convinced.

I am very much looking forward to seeing your costume, I can only imagine what that brain of yours has come up with. Just...promise not to laugh for too long once you see mine. Theodora delights in torturing me. As usual.

Games sound great, Will. I am ..actually looking forward to it.

See you there,

Monty

[frankieking]

A Dad's Child Who: Thomas, Frankie & Jordan ( @thomas-meier ) What: Thomas starts to see Jordan for who he is and Frankie tries to not get in the middle. When: This para takes place over a year with breaks detailed. A/N: Just a brief look into Thomas' breaking point and how Frankie stayed away to help repair a marriage already on the brink.

FRANKIE:

Frankie sat in the dinning room by themselves with a bologna sandwich on their plate as they finished off some college applications. Two years of rehab and getting their life straight was enough to get their mind on track too. It had been a year since losing their grandparents and while they were grateful to Thomas for everything they’ve done for them, Frankie needed to start repaying. They heard footsteps and looked up, flashing Jordan a small smile. “Hey! You hungry ? I can make you one?” Meaning the bologna sandwich. Frankie knew they still had to win Jordan over. Even though it had been a couple of years since they were in one another’s lives, being in rehab didn’t give them the opportunity to bond and Frankie knew that’s what Thomas wanted most of all. Even though he had adopted her a few years back, there was still a disconnect. Frankie didn’t want to think it was their relationship with Thomas but lately, they weren’t quite sure. Maybe if they spent more time with Jordan, everyone would be happier. “I finished my Stanford application. Want to take a look?”

JORDAN:

Jordan was still wary of Frankie. He didn’t want them to be doing drugs in his house. He did voice his concerns to Thomas when Frankie came back from rehab, but he was brushed off and told Frankie was doing ‘much better.’ He would believe it when he saw it. As he passed through the dining room, he did grin back at Frankie. *’Be their friend.’* he constantly told himself. “Oh. No, I don’t eat bologna. Thank you.” Jordan was aware that he was technically Frankie’s adoptive father as well, but he didn’t feel that sort of paternal attachment toward them. “Stanford? I thought you were just applying to state schools. Um, do you need help with it? The application?”

FRANKIE:

Frankie was very aware that Jordan didn’t really click with them and they didn’t exactly blame him. Frankie came with a slew of problems and a Newlywed couple didn’t need to deal with. It didn’t matter how long Frankie was in Thomas’ life. “Ah alright. I could prep something else for you ?” Frankie pushed the essay they had just finished for Jordan to read. “State schools? And not take advantage of this noggin?” They pointed to their temple and smirked. “I had a 4.2 GPA and some pretty excellent references. Besides, I keep hearing that my story would give me an excellent chance at getting in. What do you think?”

JORDAN

Jordan shook his head. “No, it’s not necessary to make me anything. I’ll just wait for Tom to get home to have dinner with him,” he said and sat down at the table to skim over the essay. That noggin? The one that thought it was cool to do drugs? Jordan was skeptical. “Well, you had those two years ago when you graduated high school. Will they still hold up?” He asked. “If they’re looking for students who dealt with a lot, you’re certainly a poster child for A Lot.”

FRANKIE

Now Frankie was tough. They could roll with punches but they could also throw them. However, this was Jordan and they had to play nice. Thomas really liked him and he deserved that much from Frankie. They cleared their throat and watched Jordan with eager eyes hoping he genuinely was reading their words. His words however were biting. “I did and I regret not doing it then. A lot happened and I’m a changed person now.” Frankie took the essay from Jordan. “Yeah well, I don’t plan on banking on that solely. I’ve got plenty of writing credits off school campus and I was involved in a lot of events and activities even while I was in the program. They helped turn me around but also helped nourish the parts of me that might have been otherwise ignored. So yeah. Stanford.”

JORDAN

“Hm. Yeah, you could have been halfway through college by now. But no matter! You’re going now,” Jordan said, reminding himself to be nice to Frankie. “Well, if Stanford accepts you, at least Thomas makes Ivy League money and can put you through college, even if you don’t get scholarships. Though hopefully he doesn’t have to dig into the college fund we already have set up for our future children.”

FRANKIE

“Yeah…that wasn’t—“ they sighed and filed away their essay instead of going a few rounds with Jordan. The sooner they were out of the house the easier it would be for them and for Thomas and Jordan. “He doesn’t have to put me through college. I’ll apply for loans and I’m sure there will be scholarships available. I wouldn’t want you guys to take any of that money. For your kids.” They wouldn’t let Jordan know how those words cut deeply. “You don’t have to worry about any of that.” Frankie was starting to believe they were more of an inconvenience than their kid and that was fair considering they were technically an adult now. Frankie was no longer the 11 year old Thomas had met once upon a time and they had royally fucked up more than once.  “Besides, I’ll be in the dorms so it’ll be easier for everyone.”

JORDAN

“Yeah, that’s what everyone has to do with college these days, right? Take out loans,” Jordan shrugged a little.  He really wasn’t worried about it. Thomas made enough money. And he would ask for a bigger salary when his contract was up, too. Thomas promised him that if the Sharks wouldn’t pay, he would go to another team. Maybe they would even go back to New York! “Oh! Dorms are good. You’ll have a lot of fun with kids your age. Just not too much fun, right?” He said, knowingly taking a jab at their sobriety.

THOMAS

Thomas got home from practice while Jordan and Frankie were talking. He was hopeful the two of them were getting along when he heard them discussing college. He knew how excited Frankie was to start applying. Thomas had encouraged them to apply everywhere they may want to go, especially if it was nearby so he could still see them often. When he heard Jordan taking verbal jabs at Frankie, he heard enough and walked into the dining room. “Jordan. That’s enough. Leave Frankie alone. You know how hard they have worked to get to where they are now!”

FRANKIE

"Right." In truth, Frankie was already annoyed but they were trying hard to make sure Jordan didn't see it for their father's sake but also so that Jordan didn't think he was winning.  When Jordan perked about the dorms, they imagined it was because he probably wanted them out of their house as soon as possible. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Finally, Jordan had hit a nerve. "You'd love it if I went away and then tripped up and relapsed so you could prove me wrong."

Frankie would keep going but then they heard Thomas enter the room. They cleared their throat and gathered their applications, essays, and laptop. "It's okay, he has no reason to think I'll make it. I should go back to my room or something."

JORDAN

Jordan was suprised to see Thomas back so soon, and it showed on his face. "I was just kidding. Everyone knows that. Frankie knows that. I want what's best for her, of course. Same as anyone," he said, covering his own ass.

THOMAS

Thomas just gave him a stern look and frowned at Frankie. "*I* know you'll make it. And you don't have to go up to your room. This is your house, Frankie. You can spend time anywhere you'd like." Thomas desperately wanted to contradict everything Jordan said. He would be more than happy to help Frankie go to their dream school. It wouldn't have any impact on future kids, though with each passing day he was glad not to have them with Jordan. "Are you really going to live in the dorms? I know it's encouraged for freshmen to live close to classes and other campus activities, but you know you can stay home and commute. Whatever *you* want."

FRANKIE

Frankie looked away, quickly wiping away their tears and hoping Thomas didn't see. They ignored what Jordan said and gripped their laptop close to their chest. It was times like these where maybe a hit of something wouldn't feel so bad. "Yeah.." They whispered and sniffled. They pulled out their phone and texted their sponsor their code word.

"Thanks, Thomas." Frankie realized they hadn't called him dad in that moment and it made them cringe but maybe they weren't a part of this family after all. When he mentioned dorming, Frankie didn't want to contradict him but knew it be best if they weren't around as much anymore.  "I'll be 40 minutes away if I get into Stanford so it won't be bad. Dorming seems...*appropriate*." They didn't want to seem ungrateful so they added, "You can visit whenever, I promise." Frankie had made up their mind for their father and no one else in that room. He deserved the best chance at a functional relationship.

THOMAS

Thomas nodded a little, though it stood out to him when Frankie didn't call him 'dad'. They normally did these days. He honestly loved being called dad and felt like Frankie was his child, even if they hadn't been for a long time. "Don't give me an open invitation. You'll never get rid of me," he grinned a little. Even if Jordan was being a dick, he wouldn't be one to Frankie. He genuinely believed in them and he wrapped his arm around Frankie, hugging them from the side as they held onto their laptop. "I'll be here the rest of the night if you need me, okay?"

He waited until Frankie was out of the room and upstairs before he started in on Jordan, telling him that he heard everything and that it was unacceptable to make Frankie feel bad like that. He told Jordan that Frankie had as much of a right to the college fund they set up for their kids as any other child they had because Frankie *was* their child. He hated fighting, but it was happening more often.

FALL SEMESTER-

FRANKIE

It was the fourth week of the start of the semester and Frankie was doing great. There were a few moments of temptation which they had communicated to their sponsor and to their dad as well. They had even told Thomas about the one incident in the spring after their conversation with Jordan. Hopefully Thomas was doing better with him. Happily, they sealed an envelope which included ame mementos from Stanford including a t shirt for Thomas and a keychain for Jordan plus her entire first paycheck of wages from working at the school bookstore. They had signed the back of it for Thomas to deposit. It was a drop in the bucket for everything he was doing for them but they figured it was a start. “Hi Dad; when I become a movie star, the check will be bigger. Doing great here. I’ll see you during Thanksgiving. Maybe.” Frankie wanted to see him but didn’t want to cause more trouble. After they sent off the package, Frankie buried themselves back into their work.

THOMAS

Thomas tried to see Frankie more. He offered to come to the school all the time on his way home from games in San Jose. It was halfway between, after all. Unfortunately, the open invitation to see Frankie any time wasn't that open. They were working a lot, in addition to studying all the time. Thomas was *incredibly* proud of Frankie. Every time they texted him when they felt tempted, he beamed with pride. They were so aware and determined to stay clean. Thomas admired Frankie for it. When he got the envelope from them, he immediately put on the t-shirt. Stanford Dad. It was his new favourite piece of clothing. He snapped a photo of himself in the mirror with a cheesy thumbs up and sent it to Frankie. 'I'm going to wear this every day and brag about you more than I already do! Also, I'm not cashing your check. Keep your money! Go to a 24-hour diner at an unreasonable hour with your friends or something! Love you! Keep at it!'

FRANKIE:

Frankie laid back in their twin bed, phone attached to their chest as their eyes filled with tears. “What’s up with you , King? Heart break already? It’s first term!” Their roommate shouted out and threw a fruit roll up at them.

“No. I just miss my dad.”

“Boo daddy’s girl!”

Frankie didn’t bother to correct their roommate. It was too late and they were too nostalgic. * “looking good, dad. Please don’t wear it everyday. Laundry is still a thing. I’m sure Jordan will appreciate you washing it every so often lol. I wanted to start paying you back for rehab. You’ve done too much for me already. Friends? As if. No time for friends.”

Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went. Frankie told Thomas they were going to attend winter session and vouched to stay at a motel instead. They couldn’t imagine making the holiday better for Jordan and he wasn’t even texting them these days. That’s okay. They’ll visit for Spring Break.

*“Did you get my Christmas/Hanukkah gift? It’s a real virtual calendar. Now there’s no excuse to miss important dates. Like April 3. I’ll be home by then.” *

WINTER/END OF TERM

THOMAS

"I can do laundry every day! He deals with my man stink after games. It's fine. You will do no such thing. And go make friends! You're too sweet to not have them. You have the dad seal of approval. Bribe them with hockey tickets or something?"

Thomas desperately missed Frankie at Thanksgiving and the holidays. He offered to take them Black Friday shopping. Then he practically begged them to come home at least for Christmas Eve and New Year's.

Jordan made snide comments about Frankie not wanting to come back because they didn't miss them. And once, Thomas blew up on him after he made a comment that maybe Frankie was too coked out to come visit.

"Of course I got it! Did you get the big care package I sent you? If you insist on being away for the holidays, I'm going to send you every gift that you would have gotten for the eight crazy nights. I've got April 3 on the calendar! It's a roadie for me, then, but you should definitely tag along! Part of it is in Toronto and Ottawa. You can see my side of the family. My mum and dad say you should have gained the Freshman 15 by now and insist on doing it themselves. I believe mum said she'd make a babka just for you."

FRANKIE

Frankie had gained 15 pounds and they actually looked like themselves. They looked healthier and they had dad’s good fortune to thank for that. They secretly wondered if Jordan hated them for that too. Frankie wanted to see their adoptive grandparents more than anything. They yearned to surround themselves by family. It’s all they’ve ever wanted. Thomas was the only person after their grandparents that made them feel like they belonged. April 3 came and went.  Jordan told Frankie that he and Thomas wouldn’t be around and that it’d be better if Frankie stayed on campus. Passover was the last straw. Frankie needed to see Thomas. They texted their dad their apologizes but sent him their transcript. Straight As and next year they’d be signing up for a communications class. It wasn’t enough to fill the void and by the time the summer hit and everyone began to pack up, Frankie was lost and alone.

“Dad, can we talk?” They texted. “Please come get me. I need to talk. Something’s very wrong here. Why didn’t you want to see me for spring break? Or Passover? I thought that was our thing?”

THOMAS:

"Look at those grades! Your professors must love you! You work so hard!

And of course we can! I'll come straight from practice to campus - after showering. I told you that you were welcome, but your plane ticket to Canada was canceled... Did you not do that?"

FRANKIE:

Frankie’s brows furrowed as they sat on their suitcase. “What plane ticket?” They responded immediately to their father. There was no way Jordan would have set that up.  Right? “I know you said I was invited but then next thing I know Jordan is telling me you guys were going to be too busy and I shouldn’t come. I didn’t know there was a plane ticket. I would have been there.”

THOMAS:

"... what do you mean what plane ticket? Jordan showed me proof that he bought two. He told me you canceled. I missed you the whole time. My family missed you."

FRANKIE:

They guessed they always knew Jordan was somewhat evil. His comments to Frankie were rarely kind and he was good at covering it up with sarcasm and Thomas, well he loved his husband and there was no crime in that. Frankie’s trembling hands searched for the conversation from the spring and how Jordan had convinced them there was just no space for Frankie on this break. They snapped the screenshots and sent them to Thomas. Frankie didn’t want to be the reasons Thomas and Jordan fought so after the initial text, they added, “maybe he just wanted you for himself and family too.  I would have been a disturbance. He’s always thinking I’m gonna relapse. Maybe he thought a big trip like that would have sent me over the edge. He loves you. Don’t go too hard on him.” Frankie couldn’t believe they were defending him but they wanted Thomas to be happy above all things.

THOMAS:

Thomas couldn't believe what he was reading when Frankie sent him the screenshots of the text messages. They did make more sense than Frankie *not* wanting to come to Canada to see him play and see his family. Especially because they were all so keen on seeing them for spring break and Passover. "You wouldn't have been a disturbance. Not in any sort of way. If the stress of Stanford hasn't led to you relapsing, my family certainly wouldn't. I can't go back in time and fix what he did, but I'm going to do something about it so it doesn't happen again. I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm so sorry. I'm driving to see you, okay? I love you, sweetheart."

FRANKIE:

Frankie didn’t necessarily like Thomas’ words. He was always a man of his word and that meant that he’d hardly budge from a decision if he made one. Frankie respected that about him and quite frankly, it helped them become a better person. “I’m sorry. I would have been there. I miss you so much and it’s so stupid because you’re less than an hour away. I really wanted to see bubbe and zayda. Do they think I hate them? What are you gonna do? I love you too. I’m sitting on the quad on top my suitcases. I got us both Dunkin. Don’t text and drive.”

THOMAS

"I miss you every single day. You have to believe me, Frankie. Of course they don't think you hate them. They also love you very much. I'm going to have a stern talking to Jordan, okay?" Thomas knew that he was going to do more than that. The therapy they'd been taking for the last several months wasn't working. Things were getting worse. And this was the last straw. "I'll be there very, very soon."

FRANKIE:

Frankie was glad to hear that their grandparents didn’t hate them. They hoped that whatever conversation Thomas had with Jordan it wouldn’t be too drastic. Hopefully one day, he’d grown to like them. Once they saw their dad walking onto the quad wearing his Stanford t shirt, they tapped their second suitcase so that Thomas could sit beside them. They raised their hand and handed them one of the iced coffees they had been babysitting. “Hey, dad. Long time no see.”

THOMAS:

It took everything in Thomas to not sprint through the campus to find Frankie, but that would just leave him sweaty. He looked at his child and hugged Frankie tight after taking the iced coffee. "Hi, Franks. I'm so unbelievably happy to see you," he said. Thomas forwarded all of the screenshots to Jordan with a simple message. 'I know what you did.' Then he silenced all messages from his husband. "You didn't tell me it was time to leave the dorms. I would have come with the other car, though I suppose the suitcases will sort of fit in the trunk and the backseat. You *are* coming home for the summer, right?"

FRANKIE:

Frankie tightened their embrace with their father, unable to fathom how they haven’t seen him since last summer. “Sorry. I mean to be fair, I’ve been wallowing. You too probably, huh?” Frankie waited for Thomas to sit on the suitcase beside them and rested their head on his shoulder.

“Frankie’s dad! That’s what’s up! I’m Luke. I love Frankie! Did you know they’re an excellent chess player?”

“Luke, no.”

Frankie’s friend rolled his eyes and then held the phone sign to his ear. “Callll meeeee”

Frankie shook their head and closed their eyes. “No. He’s not my boyfriend.” Frankie missed this. “I’m sure he’d like to be. Yes, I’d like to come home for the summer. Jordan is probably gonna want to hide all the cough syrup I I’m sure. “

THOMAS

"Of course I've been wallowing. I've missed my favourite kid," he grinned and sat on the suitcase. He laughed a little at the young man named Luke. "You play chess? I didn't know that. And I *was* going to ask if he was your boyfriend. Thanks for letting me know. You're welcome home any time. It is your home, as I've told you many times. Jordan is... well. He's being a fucking asshole. More than normal. I didn't want to tell you, but we've been in couple's therapy. Before you worry, it's not your fault. It's absolutely not your fault. It's his. And also mine. I have to take responsibility for my part in it."

FRANKIE

“I’m your only kid.” Frankie laughed and watched Luke walk away before adding, “I learned this year actually ! We can play if you’re down. I have a lot to tell you and I want to hear all about Canada. The good parts at least.”

They frowned at Thomas’ confession when it came to his marriage. “I’m sorry. I know how much you love him. Is it—bad, bad or this may go away in a couple of months bad?”

THOMAS

"Technicalities," Thomas smiled. "We can play chess. I would love to hear about everything. Your classes. Your job. Your friends. Everything I've missed. I'll tell you all about Canada. Your aunt Trish - my twin, remember - wants you to come stay with her for a few days this summer. I told her that you wouldn't be a live-in babysitter for her," he chuckled. "Her own twins are two now," he said. Thomas didn't want to dump everything on Frankie. It wasn't healthy to do that. "It's been bad, bad for a while now. I was blind to it."

FRANKIE

“I want all  those things. School is great. I’m really acclimated and the other students are pretty cool. I’m working every morning before classes at the bookstore. I get 25% off discount so that’s nice.” Frankie smiled and then chuckled when their father. Even if they weren’t biologically related, they sure had similar mannerisms. “I would love to visit aunt Trish.” Hearing about the relationship woes, Frankie grabbed their father’s hand to give it a supportive squeeze. “ I’m sorry. He’s… I think he’s troubled or something. Are you thinking… the D word?”

THOMAS:

Thomas grinned. "You don't know how glad I am to know you like school and that you're fitting in here. A discount is nice. I know text books are more expensive than they should be," he said. "You don't have to stay with her. You can stay with your grandparents. My mum will make you so much food you'll explode," he grinned. Thomas squeezed Frankie's hand back. "Or something... yeah. I think it would be for the best. Again, it's not your fault."

FRANKIE:

Frankie smiled at Thomas. It was one thing hearing how proud he was through text and it was another to hear it in person. Without hesitation, they wrapped their arms around Thomas’ neck and started to cry. “I missed all of this. All the dad and Frankie stuff. I took you for granted and —and I was so mad at Jordan but didn’t want to ruin anything for you. I love you so much. You saved my life over and over again and I can never repay you for any of it.  I don’t know who my biological dad is. I’ll never know. He left me before he got to know me and you wanted me as your kid after you got to know me and—“ Frankie sniffled and held on. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be so happy. I’ll stay with bubbe and I’ll eat all the food but I want to see you too and I want to stay home. I’ll commute and take a shift after class instead. I’m sorry about this. I know you’re saying it wasn’t my fault but I’m still so sorry.”

THOMAS

Thomas hugged Frankie tighter than he had since they were in the hospital after almost dying. Tighter than he had since he dropped them off at rehab. “Frankie,” Thomas said, voice cracking a bit as he started to cry as well. “I miss it all. I miss you, and I love you. I never, ever want anyone to get between us again. You repay me by being my child. You repay me by kicking ass at school.” He pulled back a little to look at Frankie. “Whatever you want! You can commute or you can stay on campus if you like living here. Just come home on the weekends. And come home for the holidays and breaks. Don’t apologise for something that isn’t your fault.”

FRANKIE

"I don't either. I wish things would have been different with Jordan." They wondered if he'd be there when they returned home. Frankie looked up at Thomas and smiled a bit sadly. "I'll make you proud." They wiped their tears away and forgot for a moment they were sitting out on the quad. "I'll think about it. I have to let them know about room and board by next month so I have time. In truth, Frankie didn't want Thomas alone during the divorce process.  "Do you want to get something to eat before we get back? I'm craving some nuggets." They chuckled. "And fries..."

THOMAS

“Me, too. I didn’t marry him with the intention of getting a divorce,” Thomas said. He still loved Jordan and that was the hardest part. “I know you will. You always do. I’m glad you don’t have to choose now. Just let me know. And if you’d prefer off-campus housing with friends, I’m sure we could figure that out, too,” he said. “We can absolutely go out to eat. It sounds like you have a specific place in mind,” so let’s get your stuff loaded up into the car, then head to the restaurant.”

FRANKIE

"I know. But you're great. And I'm sorry but if he can't see that, he's the one with the problem." Sure, Frankie was biased but Thomas was the most amazing person they've ever met. It set such high expectations for when they got older and found someone of their own. "Friends." They chuckled. "I have like four friends and one of them is Luke. If I even mention housing together, he may have a coronary. "Also..." Frankie grinned as they walked toward the car with Thomas. "How do you feel about me playing field hockey for Stanford?"

THOMAS

“I haven’t been perfect. Especially early on, but at least I’ve grown up a bit,” Thomas said. “Hey, the quality of your friends is more important than the quantity. Always remember that,” he grinned and carried the heavier bag. “You should do it! That would be fun! And I would come to any game I’m able to be at,” he promised.

FRANKIE

"And that's what matters." Jordan could kick rocks. Frankie had so much disdain toward him that they didn't know what they'd do if they bumped into him again. Perhaps that was why Thomas wanted them to spend some time with family until the dust settled. "Yeah? I'm signing up!" Frankie grinned. "Show them my skills and everything you've ever taught me. And *I* will come to any game I can catch of yours." Frankie finished loading the car and then hugged their dad once more. 'We're going to be okay, dad. I promise."

THOMAS

Thomas smiled widely. Despite hardly even hearing from his child for the last year, it felt like they fell right back into their stride. “Good! I hope you have so much fun with it and make a ton of friends,” he grinned. “They’ll ask how you’re so good at stick handling. Then you can just say your dad is a Shark. I can’t wait to see you at more games. You know there are always tickets for you.” Thomas hugged Frankie again after the car was loaded. “I know we will, sweetheart. We got each other.”

FRANKIE

"Friends, he says! Pfft." Frankie joked, always jokingly defiant about fostering new friendships with others or even relationships. They never really took a deep dive into why they avoided them like the plague but if they had to guess it was because they were afraid of losing them just like they'd lost just about everyone. When Thomas started to become so purposely in their life, Frankie feared the loss of a father figure and then turned father. Last year, they had convinced themselves that was exactly what was going on. Perhaps Frankie couldn't handle too many people to hold on to. Relationships were some liability. Maybe that'd change someday but for now, they'd deal with it. "I will brag about my dad, the Shark." Frankie nodded, knowing that they had to do better with Thomas after the tumultuous year they just had. They *did* have each other and when he said it, Frankie looked up at him and smiled however there was a big part of them that knew Thomas deserved something better. Something *more*. Hopefully, someday, Thomas would find true love and someone that would embrace his entire life. "Come on, let's get those nuggets."