#somehow i am going to submit this picture and have people look at it and compare it to the one in my passport

[ritahayworrth]

looking at the printout versions at home and confirmed! this is one of the worst pictures of me ever taken!!!

I think I have just gotten the worst ever pictures of me taken and it's for official purposes 😭😭😭

[jmdbjk]

We are sure.

WARNING, SPOILERS.

I have no doubt that every now and then, especially in the beginning, at the end of a long day or when they are tasked with doing something they've never encountered... they look at each other and say ...

And it allows them to laugh it off. They said they were making memories they could look back on while doing their service. What a fantastic period of time they had to create these memories.

This ending scene of the last episode of Are You Sure? has changed the way I think about that moment of them from the Bangtan Bomb of their enlistment day.

On their enlistment day we were so sad and were convinced they were too. And they were. But at that time we had no idea the fun they had during these three fantastic trips, they ate some wonderful food, drank a lot of beer, saw sights they don't have time to see when they are traveling for promotions and performing, spent a lot of "just being" time together which is obviously something they enjoy doing.

And knowing that at the end of Jungkook's I Am Still documentary, there was a scene of him showing Jimin his shaved head... it's as close to seeing it all play out as we're ever going to get. Piece it all together and you have a clear picture of this strong connection they have with each other.

Like Hobi said in his recent Weverse letter, I hope Jimin and Jungkook have come to realize by now it will all be ok. 27 days left until Hobi is back. 8 months, 23 days until Jimin and Jungkook are back. 38 more Mondays.

And they gave us a tiny bit of hope that this isn't the end of Are You Sure.

Delulu time: They have a lot of time to scheme and plan a reboot. Planning the next trip can also help them have something to look forward to. Like Jin did, they can do a quick live at the Hybe building before jetting off to Bora Bora or Alaska to start filming the reboot of AYS. They can make it happen if they want to. It will be another ten days after their discharge before Yoongi is free too and the group can be one again. They can go away for a few days, get comfortable with cameras and civilian clothes again. Get busy, Universe! Please?

All along, Jungkook was expressing his love for these trips, his excitement for the experiences, his enthusiasm for the good food and his easy-going vibe because he's with someone who fits him so well. Jimin enjoys the vibe of being with Jungkook and enjoys watching Jungkook be immersed in everything that brings him joy. He said if we watched these episodes, this is what its like at home.

They made it clear there are no other people on earth either of them would rather be with than each other for these trips. Jungkook said it himself: these were the best trips of his life. Jimin teared up a little when it was time to head to the airport. This was a chapter closing in their lives. If it impacted them this much, they will for sure somehow try to do it again after military service.

Besides the fact the two loved creating this, the series has been ranking high in viewers which would help sway any decisions as to whether a reboot is worth the expense. Of course it is!

Questions: I guess the behind episodes will also be on Disney? Why would they be submitted for ratings if they were only going to be on BangtanTV? Or maybe they'll be on Weverse too?

With the purchase of the photo book, there is a digital code for 52 more minutes of footage. We'll begin seeing clips of that on Sept. 29 when people begin receiving their copies. Got mine! Can't wait for it to get here!

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Josephine Baker (The Siren of the Tropics, ZouZou)— Josephine Baker was an American born actress, singer, and utter icon of the period, creating the 1920s banana skirt look. She was the first black woman to star in a major motion film. She fought in the French resistance in WWII, given a Legion of Honour, as well as refusing to perform in segregated theatres in the US. She was bisexual, a fighter, and overall an absolutely incredible woman as well as being extremely attractive.

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Josephine Baker:

Black, American-born, French dancer and singer. Phenomenal sensation, took music-halls by storm. Famous in the silent film era.

Let's talk La Revue Negre, Shuffle Along. The iconique banana outfit? But also getting a Croix de Guerre and full military honors at burial in Paris due to working with the Resistance.

She exuded sex, was a beautiful dancer, vivacious, and her silliness and humor added to her attractiveness. She looked just as good in drag too.

So I know she was more famous for other stuff than movies and her movies weren’t Hollywood but my first exposure to her was in her films so I’ve always thought of her as a film actress first and foremost. Also she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture so I think that warrants an entry

Iconic! Just look up anything about her life. She was a fascinating woman.

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

[runningwithscizzorz]

Sorry if this isn't where questions about your commissions go, but I'm really bad with navigating new websites and stuff like that haha

For the contract, do I have to email you first and then fill out the form? Or do the form, submit it, and then send a picture of the signed contract via email?

Sorry, I'm very easily confused haha

No worries! Here's the process, 1. With your commission in mind, look through the price sheet and specify what kind of commission you want and the price of it 2. Go to the google form on my website and fill it out, putting in your email/contacts (I've seen some people ask this, but if you're somehow unable to sign the form, you can just take a screenshot of the end of the form with your digital signature either typed out or signed) 3. I, the artist, look through your google form application, then I am the one who contacts you based on the contact you provided. Therefore, you are not the one who initiates contact, I am👍 This is for safety reasons and to keep me from becoming overwhelmed with messages

[mckennalumley]

on word counts and writing speeds

At great length, I’ve talked complained about how my writing process is capricious. I write best at night then I write best in the middle of the day, I’m a plotter then I’m a pantser, I write in order from beginning to end and then I skip all over the place wherever my writing whims take me. The latest fluctuation is my relationship with word count and writing speed and those two things go hand in hand. Like the twins from The Shining.

Measuring a book by word count is industry standard for the publishing world because books themselves are hardly ever the same. So word count is accurate in a way page count could never be with different margins, fonts, page sizes, and layouts. However, page count is how the average person measures a book and that’s something I’ve had to remember over and over again.

My first book, Titan Academy, comes in at roughly 103,000 words, which is a lot, but is also right within average for the fantasy and sci-fi genres.

When submitting to agents and editors, every genre has its typical word count range:

Romance: 70,000–100,000 words

SciFi/Fantasy: 90,000–120,000 words

Historical Fiction: 80,000–100,000

Crime/Mysteries: 70,000–90,000 words

Young Adult: 50,000–80,000

Even though I’m self published and not beholden to the framework of traditional publishing, these word counts still somehow etched themselves into a deep, forgotten my part of my brain that I didn’t consciously acknowledge, but still influenced how I thought and acted all the same. Titan Academy was perfectly average, word count wise, and that was very satisfying to me. So imagine my consternation when the first few drafts of TA2 all clocked in at less than 50k.

That’s still a lot of words! It’s a whole story! The whole plot fit into those words. But it’s half the length of the first book and typically, sequels are longer than the first book in a series.

So picture me; stressed, surrounded by empty coffee mugs, in sweats I’ve worn six days in a row, in a dark room, illuminated solely by the glow of my laptop screen, convinced that something is wrong with me, personally, for being incapable of shoving enough plot into this book to make it an “acceptable” length, growing more distressed each passing day because people are waiting for this book and they have expectations that will almost certainly not be met by this paltry excuse for a novel.

But then. But then. The skies clear and I open a window and shower and drink some water and it occurs to me that basically no one is going to think about the word count (never mind the fact that all of you reading this now are most definitely thinking about the word count, and likely will be when the book comes out now that I’ve brought it up)((I am simply Ignoring That)). Readers are going to look at the book itself, at the heft of it, flip through it and see what number is in the upper corner of the last page.

So I ran to my computer to do one of my favorite tricks (which somehow, throughout all of this, I had completely forgotten about. I think there may be a gremlin living in my brain that steals and eats information)((actually, I know there is. It’s called ADHD)). I took my manuscript and set the page settings to match those of the first Titan Academy book.

Titan Academy is 361 pages.

TA2 is currently 351 pages.

Granted, I did make the font a teensy bit bigger, but nothing that would raise immediate suspicion, especially because I made the font a teensy bit smaller than average for Titan Academy to make it less pages (down from 480, if I recall correctly) so it would be less expensive to print. And I haven’t actually formatted anything yet, so that won’t be the final page count but it did make me breathe a massive sigh of relief.

After that weight had been lifted from my shoulders, it became so much easier to get back into the doc and write those new scenes, bringing the word count up to just over 60k.

Something else that unraveled with this revelation was my attitude toward writing speeds. I used to think of myself as a fast writer and I took pride in that. I could write 2,000 words in two hours. I’d do online sprints with my writer’s group and blow everyone out of the water (not that it was a competition, but it also wasn’t not a competition). People would comment their shock and awe at my ability to churn out words like it was going out of style and I let it inflate my ego like a hot air balloon.

When I started to tug on the thread that is word counts, my writing speed plummeted to a snail’s pace and that only added to my frustration. I kept trying to force it, to clear my mind and just write, but only succeeded in clearing my mind of everything.

Because the point of writing fast, of writing sprints, is word count.

When it came to writing at the speed of light, my only focus was how many words I was putting on the page. The quality of those words didn’t matter and the story suffered for it, which meant that when it came time to revise, the only thing I had to work with was a huge, steaming mess. Add to the fact that revisions, by nature, can’t be done quickly. You have to sit and think and ponder and daydream and play around with different fixes and hope that pulling on one thread doesn’t unspool the whole thing completely (Yes, that has happened to me)((Yes, it was awful and I cried about it)).

Now that I’ve removed the concept of word counts from the pedestal I’d unwittingly placed it on, I am happy to report that I have once again fallen in love with the storytelling process. Slowing down, writing one line at a time without rushing to the next one, has reminded me that writing is, above all else, fun. I’ve been letting myself frolic in entertaining side projects and that revitalized my motivation and delectation which has directly translated to my work on the TA sequel, which I’m delighted to say is coming along quite nicely now.

Even if you’re not a writer, the act of slowing down and disregarding outside expectations and framework might just reinvigorate your outlook on whatever it is that you do. But if you are a writer, I hope this helped in some way, shape, or form and without all of the painful teeth pulling that I went through to get here. Either way, thank you for reading all the way to the end!

If you liked this post you can read the full thing here and find others like it on my substack here

[beesmygod]

BLOODBORNE LORE Q+A PART 6: the founding of pthumeru, the discovery by byrgenwerth, and the fishing hamlet

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

---

BLOCK #LONG POST/ TO NOT SEE THESE HUGE POSTS

shawn asked me a question about the mensis ritual and mergo and the process of trying to answer it in short became a catastrophic failure.

this is going to be a nightmare (hehehuhehehe) to try to explain in broad strokes to people who don't know bloodborne or even to people who do, but i'm going to do my best. anyone who tells you they know what happened or they have "solved" the mensis ritual is a liar. the timeline is muddy and deliberately vague, up to and including how long ago everything happened. i have educated guesswork but that's it.

i will post pure speculation in italics and important nouns in bold. i am peppering this with as many wiki links as possible to back up my claims. not gonna lie this looks like a fucking MAD magazine editor went to town on it or like the timecube website submitted a guest article.

but much like how you need to first make the universe in order to make an apple pie, we must first talk about the history of yharnam before we can talk about its newest resident, mergo.

---

untold eons ago, a race known as the pthumerians served the great ones as they slumbered. after becoming exposed to the deliberately vague notion of "the eldritch truth" (it is unclear if this is a specific phenomenon, like the secret to their longevity, or simply the knowledge of the great one's existence), they developed a unique and startling appearance: pallid skin, black eyes, and slacking jaws. i mean, they also lived underground so they look like underground creatures do. either way, they are distinctly inhuman humanoids.

this civilization became lost, but did not die; they continued to serve the "gods" underground, excavating tombs and chambers without rest. over time, they elected a leader, yharnam, pthumerian queen, who was given a ring imbued with special meaning by the great ones indicating her commitment to bearing a special child, a child of blood (the ramifications of this are not known). she still wears the ring today.

arguably, a civil war breaks out in pthumeru, (as evidenced by the armors left by what must have been early cainhurst knights, but i have not looked into this enough to be satisfied) that results in a schism that pushes some pthumerians to the surface, where they become the modern day royalty of cainhurst. the cainhurst royalty and the pthumerian royalty both aspire to have a child of blood and have knights that work explicitly to further this goal, putting them at odds with each other. today's cainhurst royalty maintains some of the "pthumerian look" but not to such an exaggerated degree, with the resemblance fading with each removed generation.

pictured above are the canonical cainhurst royalty and their descendants in order of relation from left to right: annalise, queen of the vilebloods (top left), lady maria (top middle), arianna, woman of pleasure (right; she is also the most distant descendant). the bottom image is concept art of lady maria during her boss fight with a more exaggerated look that did not make it into the game.

---

anyway: a bazillion years later or whatever. the cainhurst royals rule over a land that includes the victorian england-ish city of yharnam, named for the forgotten queen of pthumeru. the main appeal of yharnam is its proximity to a university of bold, weird research.

the school of byrgenwerth and its scholars were once an archeological and historical research center. however, during the course of their studies they discovered a vast labyrinth beneath the school where (if the first location they discovered was the same as ours this would be the pthumerian labyrinth) they encountered ancient humanoids, women with the ability to re-animate corpses, an perpetually burning dog who somehow still lives and, most intriguing of all, a creature that defied all understanding. further investigation revealed an unspecified "holy medium", ritual blood, which does not coagulate. this is the ritual blood found in old yharnam on the altar.

further investigation of the labyrinth was halted by the first encounter with a beast. here is a longer post about that encounter and my evidence that leads me to believe it occurred.

this is where things get really fuzzy as to which event happened first. im going to post this part without italics because all the events do happen. its just not clear in what order.

in order to combat these newfound beasts gehrman, a student of byrgenwerth (as he has dialogue where he refers to willem as "master"), took up self-styled arms (the first trick weapons) and became the first hunter. he was followed by a collection of self-styled mercenaries that would come to be known as "the old hunters". there is evidence of the old hunters having once been in the labyrinth as you can summon one to help you fight and the bell descriptions reveal that they were used by the first hunter after discovering them in the labyrinth.

the miraculous healing abilities of the old blood (the origins of which are not specified but i can show you my guesswork later lol) in the labyrinth became known to the students at byrgenwerth. the blood is used to combat the beasts by use of invigorating injections. blood is plentiful and works quickly to heal.

byrgenwerth also begins study and collection of the "phantasms" present (or were once present) in the labyrinth. the discovery of the augur of ebrietas, a slug that summons flailing tentacles of unknown origin, and the arcane properties of pearl slugs drives the school's continued plunges into the depths in spite of the danger posed. part of this research involved discovering the parasitic qualities of these creatures, which could inhabit eyes.

while continuing to investigate the ruins, byrgenwerth became aware of a fishing village where a washed up carcass of a monster was teeming with otherworldly parasites and a stillborn fetus. the parasites had caused the villagers to transform into fish-like monster people not dissimilar to the monster on the coast. the villagers seem alright with this change and actively cultivate millions of the parasites for daily use, such as especially potent lamp oil [1].

upon arrival to the village, the school and its hunters helped themselves to a little bit of genocide just for fun. villager's heads were treppaned open in the search for "eyes on the inside" (a visual metaphor for insight as well as a literal phenomenon) and the monstrous corpse was desecrated by the byrgenwerth researchers who took her child (as the villagers of the fishing hamlet chant) and one of the orphan's three umbilical cords, the one lined with eyes.

i know we find this in a weird place later. we'll get there.

but this wasn't just some pile of fish goo they were fucking with, it was the corpse of the great one, kos (or as some say, kosm). kos's wrath and retribution would come in due time. this event triggered the creation of the hunter's nightmare, a sort of eternal, bloody hell for hunters who participated in the massacre and those who become "blood drunk" where the must relive the event for all eternity. notable hunters trapped in the nightmare from the time of the old hunters include ludwig (not yet notable), laurence (looking awful but he had a busy couple of years before he wound up there), some named NPC hunters such as yamamura and gratia, and lady maria.

lady maria, gehrman's apprentice, could not tolerate her role in the fishing hamlet massacre and threw her beloved weapon into the fishing village well. she, with others, joined laurence when he split from byrgenwerth to found the healing church. its not explicit that the fishing village massacre was the reason for the split, as there were ideological differences (and family matters) brewing that also came to a head, but a one sided genocide seems like a matter that would cause a splinter between one faction that is ruthless in its methods and another that appears to be in the business of healing.

but thats a whole other post.

---

uhhh this took a very long time but once im done with this i will never have to type it ever again. the next one covers the healing church in its entirety and should end with the arrival of our hunter in yharnam as the city fully slides into chaos. thank you for reading. or not. its none of my business.

---

https://www.reddit.com/r/bloodborne/comments/3uq6wq/interesting_lamp_in_the_hamlet_spoilers_maybe/ which leads to this image: https://i.imgur.com/zVJbcJ2.jpg

[twsthc]

TWST GENDER AND SEXUALITY HCS

thanks again for submitting stuff on twitter! i tried to include everyones hcs somehow but also keep it true to my own hcs. again this took forever so sorry for any writing/grammar inconsistencies

⚠️ warnings: i typed the word "transmascpilled" with a straight face, light chapter 3 spoilers!!

last updated: oct 6, 2023

HEARTSLABYUL 🥀

Riddle: Unlabled Questioning Asexual, Transfem (she/any)

because of her parents i think her identity was the last thing on her mind

after going to nrc they found out about... expression?! crazy i know

started to cautiously experiment with his identity, but isnt very open about it and is still figuring himself out.

Ace: Cupioromantic Bisexual, Cisgender (he/him)

is always getting "crushes" on people (he cant tell the difference between platonic and romantic love)

after pining for someone for like a week he gets a little "OHHH" moment

asked cater about it, got laughed at, and was directed to the lgbt wiki

despite this he can feel romantic attraction! he just feels very little. is deuce's qpp/possible romantic partner

Deuce: Pansexual, Gender curious (he/him)

hasnt really thought about his identity much but after some research (an Am I Gay Quiz) he realized he was pansexual

still figuring out his gender

type of fellow to say "HIS PRONOUNS ARE THEY THEM" /j

Cater: Queer, Transmasc NB Genderqueer (he/they/any)

@/heartslabyulian on twt explained it better than me but the resistance against his mom and sisters about "being like them" (feminine) is so transmascpilled

also i think theyre just having fun expressing themself like who cares? wear a skirt, dont bind, grow out and dye your hair, use fem terms, literally just go crazy

Trey: Cisgender Bisexual (he/him)

male/nb preference

pretty confident in his identity but isnt opposed to experimentation

SAVANACLAW 🥩

Leona: Unlabled, Intersex GNC Transfemneu (she/him)

lions are one of natures queerest animals

i think he wouldnt care too much about gender presentation

i was inspired by that gay lion in kenya (as well as the real lion king) and have come to the conclusion that leona kingscholar is bisexual (bangs gavel)

Ruggie: Pansexual, Agender/GNC Transfem (he/she/they)

read a fanfiction where ruggie used she/her and i havent been the same

expresses herself how she wants but doesnt really align with any gender

im conflicted if he would be agender or nonbinary SIGH

Jack: Panromantic Asexual, Gender curious (he/him)

still figuring out his gender just give him a minute

sex repulsed ace, hes really uncomfortable w the topic and thought of sex

all he knows is he likes boys alright

OCTAVINELLE 🐚

Azul: Bisexual, Intersex Transfem (she/he)

i think one of the reasons azul wanted us to get that picture from the museum so bad is not only cos hes self consious of his younger self but because he looked "more masculine" and he just really hated it

me when im in a depressed and self conscious competition and my opponent is azul ashengrotto [insert enel one piece shocked face reaction image]

Floyd: Unlabled, Genderfluid (he/any)

doesnt care for labels he just wants to have fun in the sun!!!

type of guy to go "im a boy but a girl but a Man but a pretty princess but also a mud eating warrior but also--"

just like me fr

Jade: Aromantic Asexual, Agender (they/he)

fucking battery

look i get its probably stereotypical to hc the typically "stoic" guy to be triple A but just hear me out: i dont care (also jade isnt even stoic he is such a silly guy!!)

its MY headcanon account and EYE get to choose which anime boy i project on

SCARABIA 🌞

Kalim: Lesbian, Transfem Genderfluid (she/he)

she has lesbian eyebrows okay?

always sliding around from fem to masc, his outfits often reflect how hes feeling

blink and she switches from ultra pink miniskirt sparkly frilly femme girly teengirl into a baggy pants oversized band shirt beanie wearing 7/11 mountain dew big gulp drinking Creature. seriously iconic

Jamil: Bisexual, Nonbinary (they/he)

they dont have time to worry about their identity

he has BILLS to PAY

but seriously they never got the time to do any self reflection when they were younger and after their OB they were able to fully come to terms with and explore their identity

POMEFIORE 👑

Vil: Queer Polyamorous, Genderqueer Transfem (she/her)

said this already on twitter but she/her vil is so real

figured herself out even before NRC

i dont have much to say about pomefiore as a whole tbh like theyre just Gay it just makes sense?

Rook: Pansexual Polyamorous, Agender (they/them)

this is the one hc i will never ever budge on

i cant explain myself. rook is just agender okay.

the panpoly bit is because he sees beauty in everyone and wants to share beauty with everyone (and he wants potential romantic partners to share beauty with each other as well)

Epel: Gay, Trans man (he/him)

also took an Am I Gay Quiz

asked vil about her identity and for advice on finding himself and stuff

he came out to leona as trans during practice and leona was like "okay? me too? now do 30 pull ups?" and epel was so happy

IGNIHYDE 💀

Idia: Bisexual, Nonbinary (he/they/xe/it ++)

i think lilia canonically uses he/they pronouns for gloomurai. im not fact checking this i will just saw someone on twt say it once and choose to believe

probably found out he was bi after playing an otome game

list of neos: xe/it/exe/cy/vi/byte/if/gore

Ortho: Experimenting (he/it/neos)

someone on twitter said ortho was that ""cringe"" baby queer who is constantly changing his identity and trying out different pronouns

and it reminded me of myself when i was 12 and named myself ""moth"" 😭 so its canon now

idia is supportive and uses his heaps of money to buy new pride flags/pins for whenever ortho comes to a new conclusion

DIASOMNIA 🐉

Malleus: Pansexual, Agender (any pronouns)

doesnt care about gender constructs, but in a way thats like "human gender doesnt make any sense so you can perceive me any way you want and it literally will not matter i dont care"

didnt even realize that going by different pronouns and wearing fem clothes was considered to be out of the norm until being introduced to human society

Lilia: Unlabeled, Agender (no pronouns)

again for fae gender isnt a construct as much as it is for human societies

id imagine lilia doesnt really mind using he/him pronouns after learning about those constructs but really doesnt care for them

Silver: Lesbian, Nonbinary (he/him)

when lilia took silver in, lilia didnt want to get too close to him, so lilia just used he/him on silver as a bitter reminder that silver isnt fae (contrary to raising silver without pronouns like he would typically for a fae child like malleus)

but then lilia got attached anyway LOL but the he/him stuck

kalim and silver are nonbinary lesbians in love

Sebek: Questioning, Questioning Nonbinary (he/him...?)

hes like "STUPID HUMANS AND THEIR GENDER" but at the same time is secretly questioning if its okay to use she/her pronouns, wear a wig, and put on makeup

because his dad is a human he got pronouns and grasped the concept of human gender constructs but was also able to experience his moms side of not caring about it

[chirpingfromthebox]

A Case for Chaos

With team names and logos coming out today(?), I figure I should dust off this ol' draft of mine and beat the clock to submitting my pitch for PWHL Minnesota's team name.

Since I did one for New York I figure I am duty-bound to make a case for my own team as well.

This way if they pick something stupid, I will have solid proof that I could (and did) come up with a better idea.

And, dear readers, I will ride that small sense of superiority until the wheels fall off.

Part 1:

These Options Are Bad

Let's start by killing some of the other options I've heard floated around for all these months.

The Superior.

Everyone in the Twin Cities has a weird obsession with Lake Superior and I do get it: it's pretty amazing. And I too love the north shore. If I were to move out of the cities I would probably dip to Duluth.

But here's the thing: we are just one of the states and provinces bordering the lake. And we are not even close to being the one with the most area connected to it! So it's far from a distinctly Minnesotan thing. And it isn't even connected to the city they actually play in!

In spite of what happened the last time we named a sports team after lakes, I do love the idea of referencing lakes somehow. And yet I still think trying to claim Superior as our own is as silly as a team being called the Atlantic or something.

And if all that wasn't enough, the biggest reason against it is this: if you call yourself "The Superior" and you lose? You look like such an idiot.

"And with that loss the Superior will continue their seven game losing steak."

I mean, look at that. The jokes against you write themselves.

If you lose you sound ridiculous and if you win you sound pompous. It's a lose-lose situation.

The Valkyries.

Even if it's not intentional it seems way too much like an play on Minnesota's football team The Vikings.

As such: automatic disqualification.

The Reign.

I get it. Purple is a historically royal color. There's the whole Purple Rain play on words from Minnesota native Prince's 1984 movie/album/song. It's clever.

And more importantly it actually works with their prechosen color of purple, which is honestly a hard one to match.

I love wordplay too much to be mad if they went for it. But once again: the loftier your name is the more you sound like an idiot if you lose.

If you went on a losing streak someone on the playground call you the "reigning losers."

And that's just a wicked burn.

The Frost / The Freeze.

I've heard this one floated around since those teaser pictures dropped. But I stand firm that "The Minnesota Freeze" sounds like some sort of Midwest twist on a sno-cone.

It will not get me hyped, it will make just make me want a treat.

The Monarchs.

The Monarch butterfly is the state butterfly. The word can also mean royalty. Purple is a royal color. I see what they're doing here.

But Monarch butterflies are Orange.

Having that on a team with Purple jerseys would constantly give me psychic damage.

(listen, this is my post and I will disqualify things under whatever criteria I want, okay?)

The Grey Ducks.

Honestly? I can't say I don't like it. It's silly so no big league team would pick it. But I like silly things!

People not from around here probably don't get it, but for some reason or another Minnesota seems to be the only state that plays the child's game Duck, Duck, Grey Duck, while everyone else plays Duck, Duck, Goose.

You all already know what I'm going to say here though, right?

Grey is not Purple.

It's weird. It bugs me. And for that reason: No thank you.

Part 2:

Chaos Reigns

With some of the things I don't want out of that way, let's get to what I do want.

My choice for team name would be:

The Minnesota Chaos.

I love this one.

I think it's a strong word. It sounds really cool while also sounding fun. It's a primordial concept, something that was here since the beginning and will be here after the end.

And it's fitting.

Minnesota was all over the place this inaugural season (and post season). They truly could not be predicted. They traded their 2nd round draft pick mid-season. Despite only needing a single point to clench the playoffs they instead went on a massive losing streak at the end of the season, got in anyway, lose two more games, and then reverse sweep to make it into the playoffs? Friggin' wild stuff.

And the great thing about Chaos? It works if you're winning or losing. Chaos can be something strong and it can be something weak. So you sound great no matter how you're doing.

And you've already learned I'm weird about colors, so does purple work here as a color?

Yes!

Your tagline could be "Chaos Reigns" and cash in on that royalty angle. And purple is also often associated with mysticism and magic, and those things have a very chaotic vibe to them if you ask me.

And you know what? There's just a lot of weird fun you can have with chaos.

Part 3:

Getting Weird With It

I personally hate mascots, because costumed characters make me uneasy and I don't know how to interact with them. However, there's some fun you could have with this.

Like the mascot could have one name, but then have like 3 or 4 different mascot costumes and every home game roll a die to determine which mascot is used that day.

Heck, pick up as many different mascot costumes as you can find and use a different one every time. Mix and match pieces from different costumes.

Maybe a mascot from an entirely different team would show up instead? Who knows! But it would be weird good fun seeing who the mascot for the day was.

Look! T.C. Bear is here in a Chaos jersey. Why? Why not?!

Likewise I would sell some merch with the logo spot blank so people could sew in whatever random thing they wanted.

(They would never go for this though, because people hate extra work and the league would want to have a distinct identity to sell their product. But once again this is my post and I can dream whatever silly things I want!)

I doodled out some possible logo ideas, but I can't nail down one I love. But I like the idea of maybe doing some sort of riff on a butterfly symbol to have a chaos theory connection?

--------------

--------------

Anyways, I've got a million more ridiculous ideas for why this would be a fun idea and I could go on and on. But I'll save y'all from further silliness.

Thank you for sticking around for this silly post. And happy name day to us all. Hopefully we got some goods ones?

[detective-dr-curious]

"you are not oblidged to know how to do something you've never done before"

seems like a very obvious thing right? but even so i just stared at that phrase for literally half an hour, rethinking my whole life.

and its so funny, becuase, schools for example, right?

we are taught things, necessary unnecessary that's another discussion, but we are taught things we generally don't know right? and we are supposed to be learning that stuff right? but also we are immediaetly given homework the very same week and are already expected to be able to do it perfectly, somehow. and same with exams, which just seem endless once the semester begins. which becomes extremely apparent especially when i moved from europe to the us to study.

let me expalin: it's so funny that each homework and quiz and whatever else is counted within the final grade of the course and as a result your gpa, in the us. in my understanding, this means that every single thing you do from start to finish in your semester will result in your gpa being affected.

and here's the thing, in europe homeworks don't count towards your grade, generally. the only thing that counts is if you DID them, again at least where i am from. and just to put it out there, I changed 10+ schools within the 12 grades of school, before going to college, so this wasn't something that only one school had.

and here's the thing, this has NOTHING TO DO WITH EU VS US this is just purely about expectations, becuase at least I PERSONALLY am so used to have this expectation of doing something PERFECTLY the first time that- this phrase had me shocked, sitting at my desk staring at the screen for good 4 minutes.

becuase this expectation was put on me by my parents, by my friends, classmates, teachers and naturally i also now have this expectation of myself but just how wrong is that?

if we go back to the example of schools, if we are meant to be learning, then how come failing classes is a thing? like, i am in college, i have to write lab reports every week, and let me tell you, when i was taking organic chemistry together with its lab (mandatory) I HAD ZERO CLUE ON HOW TO WRITE A LAB REPORT. Becuase i just never had to.

I WAS NOT OBLIDGED TO KNOW HOW TO INSTANTLY WRITE AN A++ LAB REPORT and yet I got 6 or 7 Fs in a row and only passed that class thanks to a C, two Bs and the very last report on which I got my first A ever in that class, passing with an exact narrow window of 70.31. And oh, did i mention that one of my friends who was in the same exchange program as i was and with the same exact cluelessness having failed that class with an avergae of 69.57? oh and the fact that if you fail the lab, you automatically fail the associated class?

and funny enough, i am taking biochemistry right now, again, together with its mandatory lab, and guess what? spare for the last report that i submitted, which was extremely rushed, i dont have any grade that's below an A rn. that is, i actually LEARNED how to write those reports, with each F that i got.

perfect. wonderful. abolutely fantastic.

except may i remind you that it almost cost me 4 ENTIRE CREDITS??? AND WHO KNOWS HOW MANY DOLLARS???

like yeah, the overarching goal of learning was accomplished, sure, but only becuase of my own ability to quickly gain a skill that i was expected to know! AND I WAS NOT OBLIDGED TO KNOW HOW TO DO SOMETHING I HAD NEVER DONE BEFORE!

the thing is, people might disagree with me, becuase apparently you guys do learn how to use the MLA format in high school and how to cite correctly and how to write scientifically acceptable lab reports, so this is more of a foreign students thing than it is general, but please zoom out and look at the bigger picture and at your own life. how many things are expected daily of you that you had never done before? and worst of all, have you ever been laughed at for not being able to do something like this?

add in the fact that i have a very competitve nature, both since birth and due to my environment, as well as very high standards from myself and, well, yeah. mental breakdowns guaranteed.

so, after reading a phrase said by a character comforting another one after their first unsuccesful attempt at sucking dick, i am here to tell you that it's okay if you don't succeed at something on your first try. even if you were labelled as the smart kid, the gifted kid, or if your whole personality is / was based around being the intelligent / capable one.

[cat-26]

Uh beacon I found this in my drafts, I'm gonna be honest I think this is MONTHS old (like I think before we talked in may(?)) but I guess I might as well answer you?

Since I wrote this I'm almost done with flight training, I have been and returned from my internship, and I have my paper reviews already.

Anyway, here is what I wrote at least 6 months ago:

----

i have come back to tumblr to find people are deciding who is the mcyt tumblr sexyman and that techno and scar are fighting each other. wild times.

CONGRATS ON YOUR PAPER! i submitted one like 2 weeks ago and i'm still waiting to hear back, but i'm read to be annoyed at the reviewers for just not getting it.

please do wait the recommended 6 weeks for another peircing. but also. after that. GO FOR IT. (i would never do it because i am a coward so i'm content with normal ear piercing i got as a kid)

ugh. i've decided post docs are in general not good for the lab ecosystem. most of them have nothing to lose, they are mean to not-phd people, and they think they don't have to work. i am very happy your toxic post doc is gone and that now you get a new desk. (if you can, i highly recommend a little plant. mine makes me smile when my research sucks).

BEACON i literally learned how to crochet like 1 week ago. i made a little tiny bee (i'll try to remember to post a photo). it is so relaxing. (i used to cross-stitch but i have a grandma's wrists so it hurt if i cross-stitched for too long) (crochet is great so far) and i was thinking i'll ask my labmates what their favorite animals are and if they are easy to crochet i might make little plushies for them! that's a funny coincidence! :D appart from that i'm still doing scrapbooking which is always fun and then i get to actually look at the pictures we all take all the time

i am doing great! my phd is still not done, but we'll get there (i hope). i have an internship in the summer i'm exited about, and after that it's write thesis time to be out by may 2024 at the latest. i've been learning how to fly, i did my first landings yesterday (it is Scary. pointing straight at the ground is scary, and then you have to like rotate the plane close to the ground to be parallel to the runway which is somehow worse because then you can't even see the ground) but my instructor is great so that helps a lot

also i have to say, i want to make like a sign that says "deep in the trenches of scientific research hell and fighting for my life" to put at my desk for when Those Weeks happen. or maybe make it my email signature (haha imagine answering some high-ranking industry guy's email with that)

HELLO BEACON!! long time no talk. how's life? how's the lab? i hope you're doing well :) -cat

BELOVED CAT @cat-26

in all honesty, i put off answering this ask for four days bc at the time of receiving this message i was deep in the trenches of scientific research hell and fighting for my life.

but despite being awake for 25 consecutive hours and counting, i am doing much better today and it is cold but it is sunny and a friday and i can probably leave lab early

i got a new ear piercing three weeks ago and i already want another one. but i’m gonna be a responsible adult and wait the full 6 weeks of recovery before getting another one. if not for the physical health of my earlobe, then for my wallet.

finally parted ways w my toxic postdoc. turns out, maybe i don’t hate science maybe i just hate getting repeatedly gaslit and overworked by my mentor 🤪 it’s been a Rough week and a half. and i’m Tired. but it’s Over now and i have a new desk and lab bench and everything. i still gotta move all my equipment over though. hopefully our manuscript is like fully published by may so that smthg good comes out of all of this, i think it’s like 95% done.

i’m trying to get into crocheting. gonna go to the nearest craft store (which is not that near) to get starter supplies. i wanna be able to crochet those cute stuffed animals for my friends.

and my 2023 resolutions are to 1. (over)think less and 2. introduce more whimsy into my life. i’m doing pretty well on both fronts. i saw the green comet on wednesday. pretty neat.

how have you been? i hope 2023 has been going well for you!! are you done w your phD yet? one of my friends got accepted to their second favorite phd program last week

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[rabbivole]

sorry i have to ramble about this *somewhere* or i'm going to die. this mysterious ripmaster has a bunch of even the weird shit that was basically made bespoke for a server i played on, so presumably someone i used to know sent him some stuff. (he has a collaborative halloween map a bunch of us submitted houses for and i might literally have a house i made in there.)

i went looking for something on a whim and: he has avbar1. this is the picture he's provided, and the actual bar the map is named for is behind the camera, but this room is the other half of the map:

that's a big working accordion. i had completely forgotten until seeing this, but i am intimately familiar with this room. i have run circles around this room chatting with people i was way too young to be talking to many, many times.

the other thing i remembered upon seeing this was that accordions and polka were sort of a meme (it was the era of weird al, you see) and there was something you could do in this room, some hidden button you could press, to play a polka song. and from the detritus of my brain from 20-odd years ago i'm thinking... john jeski - sailing? definitely jeski and sailing. i can't really remember the song well but i'd know it if i heard it.

i go to youtube and find nothing. i google 'john jeski' as a flailing attempt and find the obituary of John Jeski, the 'Polka Master'. he lived in connecticut and passed away in 2007. he started the John Jeski Band in 1974, apparently performing throughout new england and receiving a congressional plaque. his obituary fondly remembers him as 'one of the best accordionists in the Polish American field'. i dig a little more and i find a raw html 1998-ass page for him on polkas.org, and sure enough, something's labeled Sailing. i somehow remembered this perfectly. and it's only a 30 second clip, but jesus christ, this is it. the map had a much longer excerpt, but this is it, hosted by nancysplaceforpolkas.com. please join me in enjoying 30 seconds of what i can only describe as joyful oompah music that i had forgotten, remember perfectly, and never expected to hear again. (and cursory googling suggests finding the whole song may be tough. hmm.)

it was just this weird polka song that was included in a map that the guy must have heard somewhere and included as a half-joke, the way that meme songs live on beyond being memes because 'well, it's a meme song, but it kinda goes hard, though'. we wouldn't have used any of those words at the time. i probably said it pwns j00.

god, avbar1.bsp is probably old enough to drink. avbar1.bsp can probably fight and die for its country (canada, i think? i think he was canadian)

fuck. this is so much and if i'm able to get even 10% of these running i may have to start thinking about taking pictures of them

ok well. as of like two weeks ago, some absolute fucking hero i don't think i've ever crossed paths with has uploaded a rip of ~5gb of team fortress classic maps. the number of these i remember intimately is fucking insane and i thought a lot of them were lost forever

a) i'm like weirdly emotional about this b) after a quick glance in my old SIERRA folder, i think i have a few things he's missing. so uh i should. probably send this person a message

[axwalker]

Jealousy--One Shot

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2. Engagement Tour. 

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

WORDS: I’m using my WD golden ticket so 3,000 words. 

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT!! 🍋🍋🍋 A very frustrating Drake and Alexis.  

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 !!!! 

I’m participating in the  @wackydrabbles​   prompts. This week’s prompt is “I can’t do this anymore.” 

I apologize for any grammatical errors.   

Tags in the comments ;) 

DRAKE

Standing next to my window, I admire the Roman ruins of the Palatine hills as the royal train rolls into Rome. I’ve always loved Italy, but something about this trip is getting to me. It might be the woman occupying the cabin next to mine. It might be the fact that my best friend is almost as crazy about her as I am. Almost. He can’t possibly care for her the way I do. I down the rest of my glass and pick up a simple shirt and a pair of pants for tonight’s banquet. Fuck the black tie.

Since O’Brien came back to court, I tried to avoid her as much as I could. As a result, I’d cut off a leg tonight just to lay eyes on her again. I crave her like a drug. I spent the last few days debating with myself, and each day I grow a little more desperate, my arguments growing wilder and less probable by the minute. “Maybe” is how every single thought began, each one borne of desperation. Maybe I can make Liam understand that I’m crazy about the woman he loves. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve been lying for months. Maybe Alexis will realize that she wants a quiet life with me. It’s a weakness on my part; I just need to get through this banquet without giving into it.

Thank God there’s a bar. I’m going to need something to make this experience tolerable. I grab a whiskey and drink half of it before I even head to my table. I’m halfway there when my eyes meet Kiara’s. She’s been leaving me flirty messages since we built the barn to celebrate Liam’s engagement. She’s a beautiful and smart woman but I couldn’t be less interested. 

“Come with me,” she says, pulling at my elbow. “I saved you a seat.” 

At that very moment, Lexie walks in. She’s wearing a red silk dress that matches her lips, pours over her curves, and reveals only a hint of cleavage while allowing you to imagine what you can’t see too fucking easily. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her back, highlighting her long neck and her gorgeous face. As always, I seem to settle on her mouth. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her wear red lipstick before, and, for some reason, this opens an entire box of fantasies. I want to see it soiled. To kiss her so hard that neither of us can breathe. To pull back and find that mouth ajar, panting, the lipstick a red blur around the edges., I want it so badly I’m not sure how I’ll get through the goddamn night without having it. My hands sliding that silk dress over her head, learning every inch of her the way I’ve dreamed about for months. Except right now, Lexie’s eyes are fixed on the point where Kiara’s arm is linked with mine, and her expression—sad and wounded—is like a knife to my chest. I step away from Kiara, grabbing my drink and draining it. “I’m sitting with Maxwell and Olivia,” I tell her firmly. 

 “Doesn’t Lexie look gorgeous?” Max asks. My eyes move across the room again. Her red dress shimmers, sticks on her curves. `

“She looks like she needs more clothes,” I complain. 

“Olivia helped her choose that dress,” Max says with a brow arched. “It fits her like a glove.” 

“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s sort of the problem.” 

My gaze is still on her, though. Moving up from her hips to her waist to her breasts, back up to that mouth of hers. I picture it again; the lipstick smeared, her breathless under me. And then a single hand cups her hip bone, visible through the thin silk, and I’m ejected from my fantasy at high speed. My lust transforms into rage in a single breath. Fucking Signore Francesco Lombardi. When everyone finally takes their seats, I discover that she and Francesco are at the table on the other side of mine, giving me a painfully direct view of the two of them. Whenever she stands, his eyes are on her, devouring her. He paws at her when she returns, jumping to pull out her chair but managing to get his fucking hands over approximately sixty percent of her body when he does it. And if he tries to look down her dress one more time, I’m definitely taking him out. I don’t give a fuck about our diplomatic relationships with Italy. I go to the bar again and ask for another glass of Macallan. Tonight it’s either get drunk or completely lose my shit in front of hundreds of witnesses. Pretentious food and great speeches are given out that I don’t notice. She is more real to me than anything in this room or out of it, the only thing I can see. No one knows her fears like I do. No one knows how fragile she really is, how deeply sweet. How funny and smart and kind. But I know. And for all the fighting we’ve done, there aren’t two people in this room as made for each other as the two of us. My world is constructed entirely of rules about what I owe Liam –my education, my career, and so many other things. But somehow, it excludes the only thing that matters to me. Her. If it weren’t for how Liam feels about her, she’d be here with me tonight. I watch her say something to Liam, and he nods, his eyes telling her how he feels. Jealousy runs through my veins. 

 “Enough,” I say quietly as I stand. I don’t know what possesses me to follow her. I know, with every bone in my body, that I have no claim on her. But I saw that look in Liam’s eyes, the one that says he’ll do anything for her, and I found myself on my feet. She’s halfway down the hall by the time I reach her. She looks over her shoulder warily when she hears me, but she is too late. I’m already there. I grab her elbow before she has time to react and pull her into an empty office. She stiffens and pulls back, ready as always to fight. Eyes flashing and hands on her hips. Seething before I’ve even said a word. “You have no right to—” That’s when I cup her jaw and capture that mouth I’ve longed for the whole goddamn night.

ALEXIS 

 His mouth comes down on mine, demolishing my pathetic attempt to object. He seizes it thoroughly, with such certainty, as if he’s spent his entire life practicing for this precise moment. His hands raking back through my hair, his tongue finding mine as he presses against me. His mouth moves over my neck, and he groans, a noise of both despair and satisfaction. 

“You didn’t want me a week ago, but now you do?” I start to push back, but he holds me tight against him. 

“I just don’t want you stuck in a shitty ranch with a poor veterinarian when it all ends. It was never about not wanting you.” I know there are other reasons why I’m supposed to object, but they escape me. I’ve wanted this too long, his hands on my body, my skin pressed against his, and his mouth creating a trail of kisses down my neck. It’s right. I’ve known nothing in my life with such certainty as the fact that nothing in the world matters more to me. His hands move from my hips to my breasts, and then he pulls one strap of my dress down, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses over my shoulder and collarbone, almost reverently. Nipping with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. He pulls the dress down to my waist, unclasps my bra with a single hand. He cups my breasts, bringing his mouth to them in the same way, sharp and sweet at once and creating a need in me so intense that it borders on pain. I gasp and arch toward him, submitting entirely as my head falls backward against the wall. He pulls back just enough to see my face. His chocolate eyes are dark now as he searches mine, looking there for something he desperately needs. Permission. He wants permission. As if I’d ever tell him no. 

“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.” 

“You’re sure?” His voice is gruff with desire. And when I nod, he pushes the dress over my hips and allows it to slide to the floor. His hands follow, skating over my hips, down my thighs, and I stand before him now in nothing but panties and heels. “That fucking dress nearly killed me,” he says, smoothing my skin as he kisses me again. He pushes against me, his shirt against my bare skin, his erection pressed hard to my stomach, a quick pulse there as if he is desperate for friction. He slides his index finger under the elastic of my panties. The moment he touches me, my whole body jolts. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re already soaked.” His finger slips back and forth, lightly, in torturous circles before it pushes inside me. 

“Oh God,” I whisper, my body bowing toward him. He adds a second finger, and this time his groan is louder than mine. 

“Jesus, Lex,” he growls. “You’re going to be the end of me.” 

I unclasp his belt and unzip his pants reaching down to pull him from the confines of his boxers. He is thick and heavy in my hands, hissing as my fingers wrap around him, tugging gently. 

“Stop,” he exhales after a minute. “I’m not gonna last if you do that, and there are so many things I want to do to you first.” 

He pushes my panties down and lifts me up almost simultaneously, turning to deposit me on the table behind us. He kisses me once, hard. “Lie back,” he commands. He drops to his knees, spreading my legs so I’m displayed before him. Suddenly, his fingers are joined by quick swipes of his tongue. 

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Drake … just—”

 His mouth and tongue lick and brush and pull, creating flames that begin there and spread all the way to my toes. I try to move, but his free hand clamps down on my thigh, holding me in place. 

“I’ve dreamed about doing this every goddamn night for months, Alexis. So let me.” 

I can’t even nod in agreement because suddenly, everything inside me is building so quickly that I can’t tell where I am or where I’m going. 

“Oh,” I gasp. And then his fingers push inside me and I explode with a cry of ecstasy and surprise, arching against his mouth. He doesn’t pull back, but instead slides his hands beneath my legs and tugs me closer, buries his face to create wave after wave of something I never thought would happen in the first place. 

“Holy shit,” I breathe. He leans over to kiss me and when he does, I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him against me so suddenly that he gasps in my mouth. 

“Lexie,” he groans. 

“Please,” I whisper. It seems impossible for anyone to be more satisfied than I am now, yet I still need the very thing Drake wants most, the thing he is so sure he shouldn’t give. He looks tortured and pulls back, but I tighten around him, pressing him against me. “Don’t even think about stopping right now.” He shifts his hips just enough that he is pressing right there, not inside me but mere seconds away from it. In a single pulse, he could be buried deep inside me. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice tight. “Do we need …” 

“No,” I beg. “Just do it. I’m on the pill.”

He pushes in, barely. He’s so thick that already I’m stretched to the point of pain. 

“Oh fuck, Lexie,” he whispers. “God, that’s so good. Just give me a minute, or this is going to be over before it starts.” 

Finally, he moves once more, going slowly, a low noise deep in his chest as he finally shoves all the way in. 

“Are you okay?” he asks between clenched teeth. I nod as I adjust to the size of him, pain still outweighing the pleasure. It’s when he starts to withdraw that the pain recedes as a burst of pleasure sucks the air from my lungs. It feels too good, something so vast and all-consuming it can’t possibly end well. I never finish this way but oh my God… If it were ever going to happen, it would be now. His next thrust is faster, more certain, but he stops entirely at my sharp inhale. “Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks. 

“No.” He didn’t hurt me. He stunned me. His strokes come slow and rhythmic then, as he leans over, finding my mouth with the table bracing his weight, his arms taut. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he says, holding still inside me. 

“Keep going,” I beg. “Don’t stop.” 

“Patience,” he grins. “You have no idea how hard it is not to come right now.” 

I grab his ass and push upward, ignoring his warning, thrilling at the low grunt he makes. “Alexis,” he growls, “goddammit.” 

His hips jerk back and then forward, almost involuntarily. It’s all I need. I cry out as it happens again, everything inside me bursting. He thrusts quick and hard, desperate now, and then stiffens with a single guttural noise as he pushes in one final time. He falls against me, his mouth against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. It’s closer than I’ve ever been to another person, and I would like to stay here, just like this, forever. But after a moment, I open my eyes when I realize what we’ve done. 

It’s a little like waking from a dream. What the fuck have I done? The best sex I’ve ever had and the biggest mistake I’ve ever made just occurred simultaneously. The guilt and astonishment collide with each other. It was wrong. No matter what other considerations there are, I just slept with Liam’s best friend.

I know I don’t owe Liam anything. I came to Cordonia to see if there was something between us beyond that kiss in New York, and there wasn’t. He’s engaged to Madeleine and I’m hopelessly in love with his best friend. Bu this isn’t about me. This is about Drake. 

I just became that woman. The kind of woman that would stand between two brothers. The type of woman capable of breaking a lifelong friendship in a moment of lust. 

I know that sooner or later, Drake will resent me, us, if he loses Liam. Somewhere inside, I knew that, but because I wanted him and was jealous of Kiara, I chose to ignore it. He looks up at me, and his smile fades. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks. There’s dread in his voice. His jaw hardens. “You regret it.” 

“Drake,” I sigh, nestling in his chest. “It’s not that. It was…amazing. I just need to figure this out.” 

“Figure what out?” 

I bury my face in his neck. I don’t want to be having this conversation with him. I wish there was a way he could just hold me and take me to his cabin and work this all out on my own later. But there’s not. “What happens next. I mean, it shouldn’t have happened. We both know that. Liam… “

“No,” he snaps, pulling away. “Do not bring him up. Are you really going to let the way it might look to everyone outside this room dictate whether or not it’s okay? This is about us, Lexie. No one else.” 

Except it’s not everyone outside this room. It’s him. Until a week ago, Drake was determined to push me away. He didn’t want to betray his best friend. He told me over and over again that he wasn’t that kind of man. That he would never forgive himself. 

I let my need obliterate every reasonable thought, as usual. And in doing so, I’ve let myself down and—far worse—I may have put Drake’s friendship with Liam at risk. I pull away and grab my dress and bra off the floor. 

“We have to get back out there before someone notices we’re gone.” 

He buttons his shirt. “So you want to go back and continue flirting with Liam like this didn’t just happen?” he asks.

.

It’s right then, at that precise moment, that I realize that no matter what happens, Drake and I will never be together. Liam will always be there, between us. Right now, in our post-orgasmic bliss, Drake is not thinking straight, but I know what he will be telling me tomorrow morning. Or at least how he will be feeling. Guilty. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” I take a deep breath to calm myself. “So what matters most is that we both get through the banquet like nothing happened.” 

“And then what?” He growls.

His anger doesn’t scare me. “Can we please just get through the next hour?” I ask. “Liam is out there. Olivia, Max, Kiara are out there. The most important thing either of us can do right now is to act like nothing’s wrong.” 

He fastens his belt and moves to the door, his jaw rigid. He’s doing what I asked, but I hate that he’s leaving mad. I’m doing this for him. I don’t want him to lose the only relationship in his life that matters to him. “Drake, wait—” 

 “For what?” he demands. “I just fucked you on a table, and now you’re sending me on my way. What more could you possibly need to add to that?” With those parting words, he crosses the door and walks out, leaving me heartbroken. 

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Last Part

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language Word Count: 3.4k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | You are on the Last Part

A/N: And so it comes to an end, and let me tell you guys, I am not okay 😔 This is going to be a bit of a longer A/N, so please bear with me. If you’d like to get straight to the story, I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND, so feel free to click Keep Reading!

Lowkey, I had a bit of a meltdown as I typed the final words on this fic because I hadn’t realized how attached I had grown to the characters. This is the first time I wrote three different chapter openers before deciding on one, because I simply couldn’t believe it was goodbye after this.

These mofos had constantly been on my mind for the past two months and a half. I would spend most days thinking about where to take them and then bringing them to life at night, after my entire day was over. When I wasn’t writing, I’d make little notes about thoughts I had into the night about them so that I wouldn’t forget them when morning comes. 

This was my first ever (and as of right now, my only) chaptered fic. I had no idea parting with it would be as emotional as it was. When I think back to when I first received the prompt for this, I had never even imagined I could write Renjun, let alone a series. But there was something in the prompt that had gotten my wheels turning. And I am so immensely glad that it did. There were days when I thought “Oh man, what have I gotten myself into.” Some days, the story would just flow. Other days, I’d keep staring at the blinking cursor not knowing what to type. But when I did, I found my emotions so deeply connected with the characters. I was happy when they were happy. I was sad when they were sad. So, parting with them is very hard to say the least.

But through this journey, I got to experience the joy of reading all of your reviews and comments and honestly, it made it all worth it. THANK YOU to every single one of you that read this story and waited on it and laughed and cried with it. You have made my life better in more ways than you can imagine.

In this moment, I want to thank 🍙 anon, because it was their prompt that put me in this mess in the first place. And so, it is only fitting that I dedicate the final part to them 💛

“Oh, we definitely need a picture together. How about here? I think this place would fit everyone.” Kim Doyoung looks about, finding a spot best suited for the photo he wanted.

“I think right there on the platform would be better. We could get everyone in two tiers.” his assistant suggests.

“You’re a genius. Let’s gather everyone. It’s not often that so many NCTU grads and students come to Midnight Arthouse,” Doyoung nods.

“How many of us are here, anyway?” Renjun muses. The assistant looks at her iPad, checking once again.

“I think there’s 23 of you. So, let’s definitely go for the platform.” she nods.

“Okay, then.” Doyoung claps his hands together once, “Gather everyone,” he says to no one in particular and walks ahead with purpose. Renjun and the assistant’s eyes meet and they smirk. Of course this was directed to the both of them. So, they set about to work.

As it would turn out, gathering 23 people from a charity event with art and food and drinks would be a bit of a task. But somehow, they manage to gather all alumni and current students on the platform in three tiers instead of two for a somewhat chaotic picture. There must’ve been something in the water at NCTU because none of it’s students could stand still for very long. They get maybe one decent picture and several in which someone or the other was moving or pulling a face.

His friends aside, looking around at the group, Renjun realized that he recognized nearly all of them. Yangyang and Hendery and the rest of their frat were here. As were the 127s, old and new. Renjun recognized them all, except maybe two boys, who didn’t seem to know a lot of the others either. When the pictures were done and the main events were over and the crowd had started to dissipate, Renjun finally walked over to the artwork to observe it up close.

Honestly speaking, watching the work with his own two eyes left no doubt in his mind that this artist deserved to be spotlighted like this. This work was in a league of its own. Watching it makes Renjun smile; because looking at it makes him think back to a few months ago when he was sitting in Kim Doyoung’s office, thinking of himself as some sort of a big shot. But the truth is, there was no way he had that caliber then, and there is no way he has that caliber now, though he was sure as hell working on it.

“This is the piece I lost the bid on.” Renjun hears a voice and he turns around to see Zhong Chenle’s father observing the art with him. Renjun bows politely and smiles under his mask,

“I mean, this is a remarkable piece. You have good taste.” Renjun acknowledges.

“What about you? Why isn’t any of your artwork displayed here?” he asks and for a while, Renjun smiles a bit nostalgically. He could’ve been here, had he made something for the Annuale. Had he just selfishly taken that shot. Then again, there would’ve been no real guarantees. Because Kim Doyoung was pretty particular in the people he chose, whether they were recommended by his family or not. Working with him closely in the last couple of months had taught Renjun that. It had also taught him how underdeveloped his skill was in the real world context.

“I guess I still have a long way to go.” Renjun replies humbly.

“Don’t we all?” Chenle’s father nods, “Are you working here at this establishment?” 

“Um, I… I suppose I am. I am Kim Doyoung’s apprentice. He is my mentor.” Renjun nods.

“So I might see your work here soon enough, eh?” Renjun assumes the kind man is smiling under his mask because his eyes seem to be making the same shape as Chenle’s do when he smiles. So Renjun grins back.

“I mean… if I work really hard, I might get to shoot my shot in the next Midnight Arthouse Annuale.” Renjun fantasizes.

“Or maybe you’d get lucky like this young artist,” he points his chin towards the artwork.

Renjun smiles, “I would credit her luck, too if I hadn’t seen her work. But her talent is… it kinda speaks for itself.”

“Oh, no, you should definitely credit her luck. Talent isn’t enough. The stars have to align. Luck, talent, the right place, the right time. It all has to come together.” he says nodding. 

Renjun considers his words. They seem to be coming from the wisdom of experience. 

What if Renjun hadn’t received the phone call about his grandma back then? Well, then he probably would’ve made something lackluster and gotten rejected. Working with Kim Doyoung has taught him as much. It didn’t matter who had put a word in for him. At the end of the day, his work had to be outclass.

What if he had received the phone call and then still had enough time to submit something for the Annuale? Then he still probably wouldn’t have because… well, because of you.

What if he had gone ahead, regardless of you or his grandma and just made something and submitted it? Then he still would’ve been rejected. Because the truth of the matter is, he just didn’t have the caliber that artists associated with Midnight Arthouse did.

In that sense, Renjun supposes everything was in fact happening at the right place and right time now. Doyoung was mentoring him and he was getting better by the day. The stars were aligning for him. He knew it in his heart.

“Then I would wish that it all comes together for me, too.” Renjun says.

“When it does, young man, I’ll be the first one to bid on your work.” he says and Renjun doesn’t even have the time to react when he feels a presence breeze in his direction and invade his personal space.

Renjun doesn’t even have to look up to know who it is. He can tell by the way this body fits perfectly into his side. He can tell by how naturally his own body responds and just puts his arm around it’s waist.

“Oh man, I missed all of it, didn’t I?” you lament, as you loop your arms around his neck from the side instead of a hello.

“Not all of it. The guys just left but your brother and his friends are still here. Besides, you had work.” Renjun turns his head and looks into your eyes to reassure you. “Y/N, this is Chenle’s father.”

“Oh, hello!” you say cheerfully and respectfully bow and give you greetings. “It is so nice to meet you. Chenle looks just like you!”

“Yes, I’ve been told I’m a more handsome version of him,” he smiles then turns to Renjun, “And who might this young lady be?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. She goes to NCTU with us.” Renjun introduces you and you bow again. Oh, the thrill he got every time he got to introduce you as his girlfriend. Fuck, he’s pretty sure he’d never tire of it, even if it had just been a few months. The serotonin boost in his veins is strong and he gets the urge to squeeze you and hold you forever.

“Oh, that’s very nice. Come have a meal with us before we have to catch a plane back home, okay?” Chenle’s father invites the two of you. 

“Oh, I would love to!” you say in your chipper tone before your eyes start darting around “I’m going to have to excuse myself for a little bit, I just wanna say hi to my brother.” you say and you politely bow before you start moving away.

“Babe, hang on…” Renjun says, holding you back by your hand. He brings his fingers delicately to the bridge of your nose and softly pinches down the mask over it so it sits more snugly on you. “There, it’s much safer now.” Renjun nods and watches the affectionate smile your eyes give before you move away. You looked so pretty today, even if you were just coming back from a four-hour internship. You were easily the most beautiful girl in this room, though Renjun suspected that you’d be the most beautiful girl in any room you entered. 

Albeit sometimes, Renjun had to wonder if your talent or your beauty was greater. Because you had become the only junior in NCTU to land an internship at the SMK Trainee Drive. And now that you were a senior, you were somehow managing to keep your grades up alongside it. 

Renjun, on the other hand, would find himself struggling with balancing his apprenticeship with his school work. So he knew firsthand how your discipline was something else altogether. Recently though, he had experienced a rise in his grades because you had been taking him on so many study dates that your organizational skills and motivation had started to rub off on him.

Renjun walks around the studio and the party and feels like it’s been too long till you’re finally back by his side. 

“Love in the Time of Corona,” you read the title of an art piece displayed in front of you. “That was supposed to be our thing.”

Renjun laughs and has no qualms in looping his arms around your waist and finally pulling you into himself.

“I guess we should’ve realized then how un-novel the idea would become in a few months.” he comments. 

“Un-novel is not a word, Huang Renjun.” you narrow your eyes at him.

Renjun laughs. “It is now,” he says and lets out a long exhale, “I missed you today.” he complains, though he looks down at you with warmth.

“Well, you’ve got me now. And you have me for the entire weekend.” you reassure him, your palms on his chest.

“Mhmm.” Renjun smiles and he wants to lean in to kiss you. But Kim Doyoung specifically had people assigned to walk around and make sure that everyone had their masks on when inside. “Also, we already have a thing.” he reminds you and winks.

You laugh, and say “I guess we do,” then let out a happy sigh as your eyes avert from his for a moment, taking in your surroundings. “Our Couple Thing should give you some ideas on what you can make when your work is displayed here in the 2022 Annuale. I won’t be late to that, I promise. I’ll take a day off from everything else in my life.”

Renjun's heart grows warmer still, and he’s sure his eyes reflect what he feels, “How can you be so sure my work will be displayed in the 2022 Annuale?”

“I don’t know, Huang Renjun. I just have a feeling about you.” you say and Renjun can see you smile even if your lips are covered by a mask. Your eyes always smiled before your mouth did, anyway.

“Y/N L/N, I have a feeling about you, too.” he retorts. 

“And what feeling would that be?” you raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a secret.” he says, but now he sees your pout, even if he can’t see your mouth because your cheeks have puffed up over the mask. It makes him laugh.

“You’re no fun.” you protest.

“I’ll tell you once we get out of here.” Renjun offers.

“Well, I’m ready to leave.” you jut your chin up. Renjun grins and offers you his arm. You grab it with your entire body and the two of you start walking out together.

You had plans for the weekend, after all. And Renjun was determined to keep you all to himself for once, with no one else demanding your time. Not your internship, not your assignments, not any of your friends, and especially not Lee fucking Donghyuck. He was finally going to take you away where it could just be you and him and nobody else.

This moment felt way too surreal to Renjun.

The campfire had simmered down from a glorious roar to a comfortable burn, giving off just enough heat in the cool of an early winter evening. The sky was in it’s fading moments, where the pink of the light was slowly turning to violets and the violets were slowly merging into darks. 

Renjun remembered suggesting to you all that time ago that maybe you could go somewhere together. But now that he was here, he hadn’t imagined that the moment would feel as surreal as it did. 

Because now the two of you are sitting in front of your tent by the fire, entwined in one another. You’re sitting between his legs, arms around his neck, nuzzling your cheek inside his padded jacket while he supports your head on his arm and kisses you.

He’s holding you in his arms and kissing you and everything seems so perfect that for a moment, he has to pull away to watch your face and wonder if all of this was real. And though there is a gentle smile on your face, you’re not opening your eyes much. Because you know full well that Renjun’s lips would be back on yours in no time. So you play with his hair as they fall to his forehead and when he kisses you again, you press up into him so he would wrap his arms around you and hold you tighter. He does and he rubs his hands up and down your back and attempts to close his jacket around you.

“Are you cold?” he asks lovingly. You shake your head.

“No. I just want to crawl inside you.” you say, like it’s the most logical thing to be said.

“Creepy.” Renjun remarks but holds you closer still.

“You should be happy you haven’t seen my collection of your hair clippings.” you quip as you nip into the skin of his neck.

“Oh, sweet. That rivals all your used tissues I’ve kept in my shrine at home.”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” you coo at him and then lean up to kiss him some more and he laughs. But soon, he pushes the arm that you were using like a pillow up so your face would be closer to his and he could kiss you as deeply as he was truly craving. 

The two of you keep kissing like that till the sky is dark. It was an odd sort of trance, being so lost in one another that neither of you cared about what time it was or how long you had been sitting here, wrapped up in one another. Your phones were zipped away in your bags and you hadn’t checked them even once since you had parked your camping van and set up your tent. It was a slow, peaceful sort of bliss, just sitting by the fire and kissing and kissing with nothing else on your minds but being here like this with one another.

“Renjun?” you say, your voice sounding like it was returning from a deep thought.

“Hmm?” Renjun asks as he combs your hair away from your pretty face.

“You know, I learnt today that a cactus can live anywhere between 10 and 200 years.” you tell him, idly tracing the birthmark on the back of his hand.

Renjun leans in and presses long into your lips. “Yeah?” he replies and watches your face. It seemed hazily focused, like it was trying to catch onto a faraway thought.

“I also learnt that it can take up to 30 years for a cactus to bear flowers.” you say in an introspective, wistful tone.

Renjun looks away to hide his smile. Oh God, you were so cute. “Yeah?” he says again, but it’s getting more and more difficult to keep a serious face.

“Sometimes, a cactus doesn’t flower at all.” you say and then you turn your head to look at him like you’ve resurfaced from your thoughts and are now in the moment. Renjun’s grin grows wider. “Renjunnn…” you whine and so he has no choice but to tenderly hold your cheeks in his palms and stroke your hair.

“What?” he chuckles.

“You said you’d think you’re worthy of my forgiveness when the cactus bears flowers.” you whine again and Renjun has to plant a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what I said?” he chuckles some more and then leans in to kiss the anxious realization away from your lips. 

“Renjun.” you pout and Renjun laughs and takes his beautiful, whiny, kindhearted girlfriend in his arms and hopes that his hold could chase away all the worries from her pretty, brilliant mind.

He kisses you because his heart can’t bear it any longer. How did he manage to hold a heart like yours in his hand?

Renjun feels an indescribable amount of happiness. Like he wasn’t sure that you were really here with him, in his arms, all for him to hold, with no worry or burden afflicting him. The happiness is so immense and so incredible and so heavy that for a moment, he feels it suffocating him. He wonders if he deserved this kind of happiness.

But right in the next moment, he stops himself. He knew how easy it was to relapse into those tempting, lonesome thoughts. But if there was anything that therapy was teaching him, it was that of course he deserved happiness. 

Though right now, holding you in his arms, this happiness was choking him. He felt like his heart was swelling and pressing against his lungs and his chest couldn’t bear it and he could no longer breathe. 

“Y/N…” he exhales, holding you back so he can look at your face and you could look up into his. He pauses to gather another breath. Then, he just says it. “I love you.”

And doing so does the trick. He feels his chest slowly getting lighter, because this is what it had been bursting with. Now, he’s told you. Now, it can be unburdened.

You look up at him and there is nothing but a sparkle in your eye, and tenderness in your smile. For a while, you say nothing, just looking upon his eyes like that. “Thank you.” you finally whisper back at him.

Renjun pauses for a moment. But then, he relaxes. This was okay. You didn’t have to say it back right away. Renjun was ready to give you as much time as you needed. So he presses his lips into your forehead once again till he feels you laughing against him. He pulls back in confusion and you grab at the lapel of his parka.

“Huang Renjun…” you say and he looks back at you with uncertainty, “... I love you, too.”

And Renjun can’t help it if he kisses you too hard. He can’t help it that he’s squeezing you too tight. He wouldn’t care if the night brightens back into morning and the morning fades back into night. He was going to hold you just like this for the rest of his life. 

So he lays you down and kisses you deeper, like he wanted to make up for all the time he had lost. All the time in his life when he hadn’t known you. All the time he had known you and didn’t let himself have you. He was going to make up for it all. And as he zips the tent up and shields you from the rest of the world, he wonders if he could spend all of his days just like this. Holding you and loving you and knowing that you loved him back; and if he could, today was a damn good day to start.

The fire slows to a simmer till all that’s left are embers that keep being carried away by the breeze. But the two of you remain inside, in your own world, happy that you had found one another, happy that you could finally have one another. Happy that you could hold one another and say that you loved each other and have nothing in the world hold you back, not now, not ever.

You were Y/N and Renjun, Renjun and Y/N, two names that were forever intertwined because that’s how people would call you now. You were the couple that belonged so perfectly with one another that people would wonder if you’d been together for years. And any time someone with a burning curiosity would come up to you and ask,

“So, where did you guys meet?” you would just look at one another, smile and say, “Well, we met in online class.”

~THE END

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[teamxdark]

He’s Not Here

More masquerade content but what’s this at the end???

In the grand castle ballroom, surrounded by soft golden light and the countless nobles clad in shimmering fabric, King Arthur was so bored he could cry.

This wasn’t what this night should have been; it was a masquerade party, an opportunity to hide away his identity and mingle among the people 一 okay, the nobility, but he would take what he could get 一 like he was a person instead of a king. Finally he had a chance to dance around until his legs ached, to eat food without worrying about the repercussions to his image should he dare speak with his mouth full or use the wrong spoon, to hold conversations that weren’t about politics or finances or how he was doing the best-or-worst job looking after an entire kingdom with a myriad of people with different needs and opinions. 

So how was it that, out of everyone in that room, he was stuck listening to some dull-voiced stag drone on and on about the rising price of grain?

“This is why pricing is tricky, you have to account for the pests before you ship it out and…”

Arthur fought the urge to dash away, but the instant he tried, he knew he would give himself away. His speed was renowned throughout the land, alongside his golden armor and brilliant blue spines. Those, at least, he had taken care of; Merlina had spent the better part of an hour adjusting his coloring to a warm orange and growing out his spines to disguise him beyond the limits of a simple mask. She had tried so hard to give him a chance to have a night off without people instantly worrying for his favor or trying to get something from him… only for him to be trapped all over again.

Arthur would have happily made an excuse to leave, if the stag would only let him get a single word in. His conversation “partner” seemed not to need to breathe, droning on and on in an endless monotone, offset by the cheerful music and bright lights and flashy costumes.

I’ll never be free of this.

“And now that the price is rising, it leaves me in a strange spot, you see. On the one hand, I sympathize with the people who cannot afford my wares, but on the other hand, it means more profit for myself and my own family.”

Chaos above, Arthur wished he hadn’t bumped into this man. His fingers tapped restlessly against his leg, mildly quelling the urge he had to just flee, to drop everything and everyone he had ever known and flee into the night and into the unknown.

“Not to mention, the cost of labor--”

“Mind if I cut in?”

Arthur’s head snapped over to the new voice, endlessly relieved at the interruption, though the stag continued to drone on, the odious voice still grating his ears even as the king faced the bold newcomer.

It was a tiger clad in elegant black clothing with silver accents, extending a hand out to him, and even though Arthur was eager to take it and be whisked away from this living nightmare, something about him made him take pause. His eyes took in the white fur streaked with blue, the slowly flicking tail that reminded him of Sir Percival 一 was it common among all cats? 一 and the eyes looking gently back at him.

He trusted those eyes. It was the look that they held, a look that reminded him of… 

Arthur mentally slapped himself. He’s not here, he reminded himself as he finally took the hand offered to him.

“Yes, please.”

The tiger seemed to brighten just a fraction at his approval, and he led him away from the trappings of boring conversation to the dancefloor, and Arthur had to try hard not to think about how this felt like being rescued by a knight. Especially not…

He’s not here.

The king was jostled from his thoughts as his new partner started to fit him into a hold, and a brand new anxiety washed down upon him as he tried to remember how to reciprocate the hold. Dancing lessons had never been high on the list of priorities when it came to running a kingdom, and yet somehow Arthur was expected to be able to social dance like a pro when his days were filled from dawn to dusk with meetings and drafting decrees and submitting notices of approval until he passed out on his bed. Arthur swallowed, trying to remind himself that stumbling during a dance was still preferable to listening to that one-sided conversation…

...but his partner didn’t dance like a professional. Well… he did, there was no denying his grace and timing, but he didn’t dance like he expected Arthur to be one as well. The steps were simple, the turns basic, and Arthur’s mind swam in relief as he realized that, somehow, this stranger was leading him through steps that he had managed to pick up on through trial and error.

This chance encounter was proving to be everything he needed.

The stranger led him carefully around the floor, maneuvering slowly around other people rather than weaving expertly between them like so many other couples did. If Arthur closed his eyes, he could easily pretend that he was practicing his basic steps with his brother, or his friends, or his--

He’s not here.

And yet…

Yet it was so easy to picture it, even as the peals of laughter surrounded him and washed into his subconsciousness like a spark of delight for him to enjoy. The strong hold, the careful footwork, the calculated rhythm…

Lancelot…

Arthur’s eyes opened, and though he saw stripes they were the wrong ones, and the bittersweet feeling of missing someone dear to him almost caused him to heave a sigh.

He had it bad, and he knew it. His greatest knight and closest ally and dear friend… Sir Lancelot was beyond compare. From questing as youths to his coronation, and in every disaster thereafter, Lancelot had been there, his pillar of strength in a tumultuous world, always standing nearby to passionately defend him or to spare him a quiet gesture of support. Lancelot had protected him from danger, defended his honor, strived to keep his spirits up for years and years…

Arthur had never considered himself one for romance, but as years went by, Lancelot had claimed more and more of his thoughts, attention and affection until the knight unknowingly held the king’s heart firmly in his hands. Too many times to count had Arthur been struck by the urge to grasp his hands, to sing out the words in his heart to him, to draw him close and see if he could make such a powerful knight’s knees buckle below him with a kiss alone…

One song changed into the next, and Arthur, too swept up in his fantasy, didn’t let go of the stranger, didn’t notice the slight lull in their dance, and so the dream kept going.

Lancelot wasn’t there, but Arthur could lean into this stranger’s hold on him, follow his dance, focus on his attire, concentrate on the energy he exuded, energy that reminded him so strongly of his Lancelot, and Arthur’s mind could so easily turn his dream into something more substantial. An illusion for him to drown in, just like this masquerade offered.

The music kept swelling, the sweet notes tickling his ears and driving him even deeper into his dream like he was in a trance. He kept dancing with the man that reminded him so much of his beloved that a second dance turned into a third, and Arthur clung on to his dream, not even registering that it might seem strange until--

“I mean no offense, but surely there are others who would want to dance with you?”

Arthur blinked, and the dream shattered as the man in his arms shifted back into a stranger. The king’s feet stilled, his gaze dropping to his feet. Arthur had to fight back waves of embarrassment and disgust at himself before he could answer.

“Forgive me, but the way you dance…”

HE’S NOT HERE!

“...it reminds me of someone dear to me.”

“O-Oh.”

His companion seemed at a loss, and Arthur held back another sigh, counting the beats in his head before pulling him along for the next dance, leading him in a very basic, repetitive step around the floor.

“I apologize,” Arthur murmured, knowing that there wasn’t much he could do to salvage the situation. At this point, he could only offer his apologies and an explanation. “I know it’s not fair on you, to imagine you are someone else, but…”

A look of hurt passed over his dance partner’s face, and goodness, even that reminded him painfully of Lancelot.

“...but you remind me so much of him.”

Arthur’s eyes swept over his partner, taking in the paradoxical way that he looked completely unfamiliar and yet he still somehow managed to feel so much like his dear knight. Perhaps the dream hadn’t fled from him quite yet, because now Arthur’s yearning mind was searching for any and every chance to convince himself that this was, somehow, Lancelot whom he was dancing with.

“You dance like he does,” Arthur thought aloud, as his partner remained silent. “Careful and precise.”

Your movements… I know them like I know my own.

“Pardon my asking,” the stranger returned, “but why do you not dance with him tonight?”

Like a weight to his soul that would never truly leave, Arthur’s melancholy came back to embrace him. “Ah… he isn’t here.”

He’s not here he’s not here he’s not here--

“Or at least…”

Arthur looked into the stranger’s eyes, his desperation to go back to his dream nearly choking him with emotion as the tiger’s eyes widened at the sudden look directed at him.

“...I haven’t recognized him, yet.”

Arthur knew it was terrible to put such a fantasy on a stranger at a party, but he wanted so badly to believe that this man was Lancelot. Arthur wanted to believe the ludicrous ideas his mind was supplying him with, that somehow this was Lancelot in front of him, disguised beyond all normal means. The tiger in front of him appeared to fluster, his mouth parting as though wishing to speak, though no words came forth.

“You have stripes like he does, too,” Arthur murmured softly, thoughtfully, and yes, he truly was reaching for every last detail in his pathetic attempt to turn what he had in front of him into what he wanted to see.

“If it pleases you,” the tiger finally said as the third song changed into a fourth one, “I… am not opposed to you pretending that I am he.”

Arthur smiled at that, feeling suddenly hesitant at the idea, now that the stranger, as kind and helpful as he had been, had given him his consent to mentally transform him into someone else, to be a player in this dream of his. It was sad, and unfair, but Arthur knew sadness and injustice. He tried to battle it every day, slowly changing and updating laws as they became outdated, but everything went so slowly and people only kept crying out in pain and Arthur wanted just one day, just one, to take ahold of something that he wanted and to cherish it.

“Thank you,” Arthur whispered as he stepped further into the stranger’s hold, feeling warmth overtake him as he confessed his truth. “I have loved him for a great long time and… perhaps this is the closest I shall get to what I dream of.”

Because that was all this would ever be: a dream.

He’s not here.

Arthur’s eyes closed as his head dipped down to rest on the tiger’s shoulder, a soft smile spreading over his muzzle as he noticed that he was of a similar height to Lancelot, and the dream came back in full swing. Arthur’s arms wrapped around his partner, blocking out any consideration to the lack of spines on his back, and the king focused on his heartbeat as it hammered in and out of sync with the other’s.

“I understand the sentiment,” his partner whispered in response, and Arthur had to hold back what was either a laugh or a sob, morphing it into a hum on its way out.

You speak like him, too.

And so the king held his partner as tightly and tenderly as he would a lover, humming along to the song as the masquerade around him faded into nothing. There was nothing, nothing in his dream, but himself and his Lancelot as they spun around slowly.

He’s here. He’s here, I can feel it.

Arthur’s dream permeated his mind, overtaking his consciousness, and as the fourth song faded into oblivion, he finally let out the sigh he had been carrying all night.

“Lancelot…”

Two pairs of feet stilled as both parties realized what had just been said, and one final word jolted the king from his dream.

“A… Arthur?”

He was here all along.

[secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer]

Invisible String (Harry Styles x Reader)

(Soulmate AU)

A/N: Got inspired with this while listening to Taylor Swift’s Invisible string, hence the title. It took me a really long time to write this, hope you like it! 

Warnings: none

Summary: In a world where soulmates are connected by an invisible red thread, how would you find yours?

“Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I’ll pull him to me.”

“Honey, you know that’s not how it works, right?” My Mom leaned forward and placed her hand on my arm, she looked genuinely concerned for me.

“Mom, you got it easy. You were fifteen when you bumped into dad. Literally. And here I am, twenty-six and still don’t know who is my soulmate,” My voice rising slowly as I pushed her hand away from me, I was getting rather frustrated having the same conversations over and over again.

“Oh don't be so dramatic, your Grandma was thirty-five when she met your Grandpa and you know how happy they were. You'll find him," my mom tried to reassure me. Again. “Or her," tilting her head to the side, she added as an afterthought.

I almost wanted to roll my eyes, my Grandma was a very patient lady, unfortunately, she didn't pass down the trait to me.

I had been waiting for my soulmate ever since I turned five and sort of understood the concept. Invisible red strings. Fate. The one.

My parents sat me down one fine day and explained to me how two people that were meant to be together were connected by an invisible red thread tied to their little fingers.

All I asked them at the time was if the thread was invisible, how did people know it was red. They told me I'll find out in due time.

I still didn't know the answer to that.

But after my five-year-old brain had absorbed the newly received information, I got obsessed with finding my soulmate.

There was something incredibly reassuring about having someone only meant for you. But wrapped around it was the uncertainty of how and when and you will find them, or even if you'll find them.

After that day, I would constantly find myself reaching for my pinky finger, a calmness washing over me, a hope to find someone, and call them mine.

My friends and I spent hours discussing our soulmates, what they would look like, how would we meet them, and so on. Our parents would look at us and coo, mostly finding this adorable, reminding them of a time when they were young and probably did the same.

That's how things worked.

I was ten and had left my obsession behind. I still found comfort in my little finger during times of sadness and anger.

One night in the middle of June, after a big fight with my parents, I ran up to my room, plopped myself on the bed, and let loose all the emotions building up in me. 

It was a few hours later when my breathing calmed down and the tears on my cheeks dried when my left hand reached for my pinky, and my fingers felt a soft textured thread reaching out from it.

My eyes widened as I looked down at my hands but found nothing, only my fingers wrapped around what seemed to be air, a few inches in front of my right hand's littlest finger.

I could not comprehend what had happened and chalked it up to delusions due to my tiredness.

The next morning I woke up, groggy, my hands automatically reached for the supposed string that I could feel the previous night and found that I could still touch it. "Maybe I am still tired," I convinced myself before sleeping for another few hours.

It was after spending a few days just feeling out the string that I realised I could touch the red string of fate.

My parents didn't believe so, they thought I was still a delusional kid with my head up in the clouds. They found it cute for a couple of days, happy that I was still interested in finding a soulmate, but then my constant attempts at convincing them that it was true got annoying for them.

No one seemed to believe me, and my friends thought I was lying for attention.

Nothing like this had ever happened. Fate worked mysteriously, fate worked behind the scenes. No one was supposed to know how, it just worked. I must be lying.

Since no one believed me, I found solace in my thread, in my soulmate. I tried pulling the string, hoping the one on the other side would reply, would pull it towards them as well. But nothing.

I guessed maybe they couldn't feel the string as well, just like everybody else. But my soulmate was not like everybody else. If I could touch the thread then they could as well, after all, our souls were connected. Maybe they just didn't want me.

I never stopped though, just like my pinky had become my safety blanket, I found a new comfort in pulling the thread, twisting it between my fingers, still praying that my other half could feel it, even if they didn't respond.

I would spend hours trying to follow the thread, but it seemed endless and at the time, my block was where my world ended. My soulmate was way out of my reach.

Three months later, in the middle of my English class, I felt it. A tug. I looked down, before realising I could not see it. I almost laughed at my stupidity, but it was clear as day, my soulmate had responded. 

My head shook as a slow smile crept up my face and I couldn't stop the sigh leaving my mouth. My classmates probably worried about my sanity, shaking my head and smiling at nothing sitting in the centre of the classroom. But I didn't care.

Knowing that there indeed was someone on the other side was like finding a piece of land after a lifetime at sea. I didn't waste a second to reply and received a tug again. I smiled, he was here and he was here to stay.

It was the start of something new. Every time, one of us felt down or lonely or happy we would pull at our thread, we now had someone to share those moments with.

I didn't know if his family or friends knew about us, but it felt like our secret.

Over the years, we formed this new language between us. Sometimes, we would pull the thread at the same time, or wait for the other to respond but no one would. It was uncoordinated and messy, like two drunk people attempting to dance, but it was ours.

I was eighteen when I figured a way to enhance our communication. Morse code.

It was some random detective show that gave me the idea and it seemed perfect. I just didn't know how to communicate this to him.

It took me less than a month to learn morse code. After I was done learning, I tried pulling at the thread in a specific pattern ‘Hey Soulmate’.

He wouldn't understand the message, but I prayed he would realise what it was.

He did.

Somehow, my soulmate had lost the ability to disappoint me. I smiled at the thought.

It took weeks of incomprehensible back and forth between us for us to finally be able to understand each other. It was hard, but we achieved it.

I realised two things from our exchanges.

One- My soulmate was a dork, his dad jokes were endless and two- I loved every second of it.

He would start pulling at the string in the middle of the night and I had to grab the notepad and pencil from my bedside table and decipher his messages half-asleep. And It would end up being some lame knock-knock joke.

You bet I laughed every time.

 Which always led me to wonder what it would be like to actually be with him. How would he be as a partner? Would he hold my hand walking down the street? Would he kiss me in front of his friends? What nickname would he give me or would he give me any at all?

I spent most of my time talking to Harry, whose name I had learnt in one of our earliest full conversations.

My parents let it slide, believing it to be some teenage issues. My friends were lucky enough to have found their own soulmates at a young enough age and were too busy being in love.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked him one night.

I kept staring at the neon stars on my ceiling. Trying to conjure his face in my mind as I waited for his response, but didn't feel the now familiar tug that carried his replies.

It seemed like hours before my little finger was finally pulled at. With my notepad and pencil at the ready, I was prepared to write. “A musician”.

The corners of my mouth were pulled upwards and I imagined a young faceless man with a guitar in his hand performing in a stadium for thousands of people.

A laugh left me when I pictured him ending his concert with a final joke. People would groan at him but laugh nonetheless. They would love him too.

My mind then wandered to a future where he was performing at the Madison Square Garden, people screaming I love you from the audience. A huge smile gracing his lips. He would then came home late at night after the concert and lay down on the bed next to me. He would wrap his arm around my sleeping form and whisper I love you in my ear and I would respond with a sleepy mmph. He would smile down at me and eventually fall asleep too.

I looked down at the thread which was still pulling but all I could catch was a question mark. I cursed myself for not paying attention and asked him to repeat his question.

“What about you, Lovie?"

I stilled. Lovie? A nickname. So he was a nickname kinda guy.

I almost forgot to reply to him. But then instantly hit him back with a “Journalist”.

My pinky was pulled again, “Maybe that is how we will cross paths”.

I liked the thought.

"Owww," my right hand was pulled harshly when I stood up to submit my English assignment, causing me to fall forward. I was confused for a few seconds, trying to piece what caused it, but found nothing.

I looked around as everyone was laughing at my clumsiness, still dazed, I stood up and placed my essay on my teacher's table who looked at me with her eyebrows furrowed in concern, her lips parted to whisper "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head and returned to my seat, head down and my thoughts racing a thousand miles a minute. Before it clicked, Harry. I couldn't believe he made me fall down on purpose, or maybe it was an accident.

“Sorry”

I shook my head at my clumsy partner and focused on my teacher who had started talking about something else already.

I wasn't going to let the incident go that soon. During our next conversation, instead of sending him a reply, I held onto the soft, invisible thread tightly and yanked it towards me.

Not getting a reply soon after, I started worrying I had actually hurt him. Panic flowed through me, this was an insane idea, why would I do that? What if he was driving? What if he was at a height?

“Owww”

I admit I laughed, the incident wasn't hilarious enough to call for that level of laughter, but I did.

All my panic had immediately flown out of me. I loved it; before he pulled his end of the string again and made me fall down.

Thus, welcomed a new addition to our language.

We would yank our strings during mid-conversations, making the other fall down wherever they were. Did injury turn us on? We never tried to guess.

~

Moving to college was harder than I thought, I didn't know if I was moving closer to Him or farther away.

I considered asking him where he lived, but shook the thought away, we had promised not to reveal to each other any of our identifiable qualities except for our first names. We wanted to leave some things up to the true mastermind, Fate.

Going to New York University was my dream. Receiving my acceptance letter was an emotional moment for me, it took my Mom like an hour to calm me down enough to actually read the letter.

So, physically being here, standing in my dorm room was another level of excitement. I was ready to bedazzle the world with my writing.

"Ouch," someone came rushing into me from the back. I turned around to look at the person who bumped into me, only to find a five-foot-something, brown-haired girl standing in front of me, rubbing her forehead.

"Hi."

"Hello, you must be the roommate. I'm Olivia, what about you?" Her eyes held a curious gaze, as she extended her right hand towards me.

"Y/n," I placed my hand in hers and shook it lightly, having a good feeling about her.

"Y/n, brace yourself, we're gonna be best friends for a really long time."

I knew it.

During my time at NYU, Olivia really did become my best friend, she introduced me to her soulmate, Ashley, who was somehow an even bigger bundle of joy than Liv. I didn't know that was possible.

"Who're those guys?"

"Hmm?"

"In your poster, I have always wanted to ask you that," I pointed at the big poster Liv had stuck on her wall in our first year.

She looked at me, her brows raised up to her forehead and her mouth agape, "You don't know One Direction?"

"I mean, I have heard of them. Are they any good?" I remembered my friends back home making me listen to a song of theirs, "What makes you beautiful', it was catchy but I never dug deeper into them. I didn't even know why.

"Only the best," her mouth was set into a hard line, but her forehead was covered in creases as though she was thinking deeply about something.

"Come on, I'll show you their songs. I don’t why we’ve never done this before.”

This commenced a whole night of one direction albums, music videos, their documentary, and their recent concert film. She even called Ashley to our room, which began an intense lesson on the fandom ships, theories, and dramas. It was a busy night.

By the next day, I was more knowledgable about one direction than I had ever intended to be. I didn't it mind it though, I got to further learn the inner makings of my best friend.

I had to admit, I was a little partial towards Harry Styles, his name had become a personal favourite of mine. Plus, he was cute.

I also noticed how clumsy he was on stage. Constantly falling down, mid-performances. It was hilarious. Olivia told me that's just how he was. Goofy, dorky, always telling lame jokes.

“Do you know one direction?”

I waited for his reply, this one took longer than our previous ongoing conversation. I didn't like it when he replied late.

“Yes.”

“Olivia introduced me to them.”

“Who do you like the best?”

I didn't even have to think about it at all, “Harry styles.”

I hoped he was smiling, where ever he was.

“Really? Not my personal favourite.”

That idiot. My face was hurting from smiling so much. I wondered how I would even be in this guy's presence without physically hurting my cheeks.

But I knew I wouldn't mind it, as long as I could be with him.

“Who do you like then?”

“You.”

~

I had never known how successful my dream of becoming a journalist could be. All I knew of back then was my talent for writing and my passion to make my voice heard. And it was all I had ever needed.

Rolling Stone was a magazine only a few could say they were not familiar with. And even fewer who wrote for it.

I was one lucky girl, who worked through countless unpaid internships before finally landing a job at this prestigious place. I had written quite a few articles under the politics section of the magazine.

I kept up with Harry over the years, at this point I knew basically everything about him, except for what he did for a living, where he lived, and who he was. But I loved him. And I waited for him, even if did get tiring at times.

Everywhere I went, it felt like everyone had found their soulmates except for me. I was the one girl standing alone in the middle of a dance floor during a couple's song.

All these years he still seemed none the closer to me.

We still found joy in tripping each other during random hours of the day though; Falling for him was the highlight of my day.

~

"Maybe if I yank it hard enough, I'll pull him to me."

I had a rocky relationship with my parents, they had never believed in me, too busy in their own love story to pay attention to their only daughter. I couldn't hold it against them though if you had something as beautiful as they did, why would you focus on anything else.

I sigh in bitterness as my Mom rambled on about how she met my Dad. Although I had heard the story a billion times, it still made me smile. Then, reminded me how I didn't have that.

My phone started vibrating next to me, I looked at it to find it was my boss calling me. I tilted my head upwards, trying to recall if I had informed her of my visit to my parents' house. I had.

Confused, I picked up the phone, "Y/N, you need to come to the office now. We need you to take over the article Rob Sheffield was supposed to write," my boss's commanding voice instantly hits my ears, making me flinch backwards.

"Wait, what?"

"Rob had an urgent business to attend to and you are the only replacement available." Her voice carried her usual urgency.

"But Rob is a music journalist, I write politics." Her words were rushing past me and it was getting harder for me to keep up.

"Obviously I know that, but as I said you are the only replacement available, everyone else is already working on their pieces. Come to the office and get your assignment. Now." When I was told my boss did not joke around, they were not kidding.

As soon as she hung up, I started packing up my stuff. I explained to my Mom about the situation, her shoulders slumped, I knew she really wanted to spend more time with me, but she sighed, nodding her head in understanding.

Walking into the Rolling Stone's office every day still brought me back to my first day here. When I was a twenty-three-year-old naive girl, with a heart full of determination and a head full of ideas.

The elevator doors opened and my eyes fell upon the old Rolling Stone covers hung from the wall, they looked like gold records in a music studio. I walked down the lobby to the reception and asked Ally if my boss was available.

I knocked at her door, patiently waiting for her to invite me in. Three years later and I was still deathly afraid of her.

"Y/n, you are going to interview Harry Styles. You'll leave for LA tomorrow morning, and meet him first thing after landing, hang out with him a couple days, get to know him, this is going to be the cover story. I know music is not your department but right now I really don't have any other option. Do your research all day today, we'll publish the article in next month's issue. It better be good." She clicked her fingers, pointing them at me and then shooed me away from the entrance of her cabin.

"Harry Styles huh," I walked towards my desk remembering all the late-night dance parties I had with Liv and Ashley during college, blasting all of One direction's hits, discussing fan theories and whatnot.

The familiar pull nay yank brought me back to the present, on my office floor, with my colleagues watching over the all too familiar scene.

A smile graced my lips, at this point I had lost the ability to feel shame. I sat down on my desk and pulled at my thread.

“You will pay for this.”

“I am ready when you are, Lovie.”

How was our relationship ever going to work if I was ready to melt any time he called me that.

I knew he was waiting for me to trip him, but I didn't. I would get him when he wouldn't expect it. Not today sir, not today.

I went to start researching on Harry Styles and preparing my questions for tomorrow. A groan escaped my lips as I slammed my forehead on the table, this was not enough time.

Harry Styles was a multi-millionaire, platinum record selling artist with millions of fans. He was portrayed to be this womaniser, who played with people's hearts. But, the first thing I learnt about him during my research was of his kind heart.

I surfed through countless videos of his interactions with fans, clips from his concerts, conversations with paparazzi and not once did I find him in a bad mood or as someone less than the absolute model of perfection. Everybody had bad days, well everyone but Mr.Styles apparently.

As someone only writing about the people in power; the politicians, the stark deviance from my usual subjects was a well-welcomed change.

He was a part of various charities, always preaching about love and kindness. Honestly, I was a little jealous of how lucky his soulmate was, to have someone like him.

After reading possibly everything I could about Harry, I started working on the questions I would ask him. I was determined to know how he managed to be the way he was. How he remained calm even after constantly being harassed by fans and paps alike; How after all these years, he still didn't let the fame get to his head.

I woke up the next morning feeling weird tingles in my stomach, I wasn't able to determine if it was good or bad. I went about my usual routine trying to ignore the tingly feeling. I read through my questions again, I had formed a sort of admiration for Harry (the singer) and I wasn't going to embarrass myself when it mattered the most.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time, feeling good with the outfit I went for- a tan, high-waisted lace-up jumpsuit. My confident outfit seemed like compensation for the nerves running through my body.

My mind wandered to my soulmate for a second, wondering what he must be up to right now. I looked up at myself in the mirror again and saw the smile on my face. Only for you, partner. I shook my head, picked up my suitcase and left for the airport.

The last thing I wanted to do after a six-hour flight was to meet an international celebrity, but I shrugged, a job was a job.

The deli we were supposed to meet at was a quaint place, the two ladies working there were incredibly sweet. They greeted me with the widest smiles and escorted me to a semi-secluded corner when I told them about the purpose of my visit. They doted about Harry, who I concluded was a regular here, calling him 'my love'.

Harry hadn't arrived yet and I was starving, the fragrance of different foods in the deli wafted to my nose, serving as a constant reminder of my hunger. The ladies whose names I had learnt to be Gloria and Raisa noticed my condition and offered to bring me a sandwich, but I declined the offer, not wanting to order before Harry's arrival, considering it to be a bit rude.

But, ever the saviour Harry entered the deli soon after, I admit I released a long breath in relief, I would finally get to order.

Harry's presence was like a force of nature, no one could escape it. I stood up from my seat, without thinking twice as if something compelled me to honour it. I couldn't pry my eyes away from him, and I didn't want to. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Every step of his brought him closer to me, the weird tingles I had been feeling all morning intensified, crawling up to every part of my body. I wanted something, anything to help me ground myself.

My hands frantically searched around for my thread, and as soon as my fingers made contact with the string of fate, the familiar calm washed over me.

Maybe in my frantic state, I pulled the string too hard. I winced, almost closing my eyes as Harry's expression changed into one of panic, his eyes widening as he fell forward. I worried about my Harry as well, realising how hard I must have pulled the thread.

Oh.

OH.

I rushed towards Harry, helping him up. When my hand touched his bicep, a warmth started flooding through my veins, locking eyes with him, I knew he was experiencing the same thing as well.

We both looked down towards our hands and a red string was seen connecting our pinkies. We met each other's eyes again.

"Hi," he gave me a toothy grin. I could die a thousand times for his smile.

"Hello," his eyes, a little sunken, were the most beautiful green I had ever seen, I could spend a lifetime getting lost in them.

"Well since I've already fallen for you, how abou' we go out to eat something. Oh wait, we're already here." His chest was out, and his eyes gleamed at his statement, he was weirdly proud of his jokes.

My entire body shook, I didn't know if I was laughing at his ‘Pick up line' or the situation. I was standing in front of my soulmate, whom I've pined after all my life, only for him to turn out to be Harry fucking Styles.

His brows furrowed in concern as I continued laughing, even he realised his joke was not funny enough to prompt this big of a guffaw.

I took a step back, my hands reaching up to rest on the sides of my face, tears were streaming down my face from laughing too much. Harry's contorted face making me laugh louder. I could not stop.

He reached out his hands and wrapped them around mine. I noted how big his hands were compared to mine, warmer too. "Hey, are you okay?"

 I nodded my head, taking deep breaths to calm myself. When I seemed to have a hold on my laugh, another round burst from me. I started shaking again.

At this point, Harry had given up on me and started laughing as well. We were garnering unneeded attention but we couldn't stop. I noticed from the corner of my eyes, Gloria and Raisa were hovering around us protectively, not letting anyone come near us. Angels.

After several minutes or hours, we stopped for good. And even though my stomach was hurting like a bitch, my smile couldn't have been wider.

"So, it's you huh," I started, bringing Harry to my table, "My soulmate heh." My palms were getting sweaty, I tried to subtly wipe them on my pants.

He sat across me, reaching out and grabbing my hands in his again. I changed our hand positions, interlocking my fingers with his. The red string between us lengthening and shortening constantly, conforming to our movements.

He nodded, a smile ever-present on his face. He released a small breath, his shoulders slumped slightly, "I've dreamed of this moment for years. It's good to finally meet you, Lovie."

A weird gurgle-like sound left my mouth. My eyes widened as I covered my mouth, horrified and embarrassed at the same time.

He just looked amused, raising his eyebrows as if to ask me what the fuck was that.

"It's just, it keeps hitting me that this moment is real. That you are here in front of me and you are the Harry Styles-" my eyes continued to dart down to the striking red colour of the thread I was so accustomed to not seeing "-But like you are also just Harry, who I've known all my life." 

"I get tha', I do," he nodded fervently, "All my life, I pictured a faceless girl when I imagined a life with you. Now everything seems complete, like the final piece of the puzzle has been placed and I can see my life as a whole picture and I see you with me," he then shrugged his shoulders, wanting to be seen nonchalant.

Hearing him reflect on everything that I've been feeling as well, brought tears in my eyes. He noticed my eyes getting glassy,

"Was it too much too soon?" His fingers were slightly tapping on the table, he kept looking down at our joined hands and biting his lips. My eyes fell to his lips, I hadn't noticed how pink they were.

"No, no, not at all," my hold on his hands tightened as I shook my head, trying to ease his nerves as well.

I went silent for a minute, not sure if I should continue before starting to tap a pattern on the table. One I hoped he would get without having to write it down.

“I love you.”

If the smile on his face were to say anything, it was that he got it. Of course, he would.

Our fingers started to tingle, pulling our attention towards them as we watched the red string starting to disappear.

When it seemed to be fully gone, I traced my hand around the table, checking if I could still feel it, I couldn't. It had really gone away.

I knew this would happen, but it didn't make saying goodbye any easier. Harry brought our hands together again, catching my attention again, "I don't need the string any more, I have you in my arms now." He rested his forehead on mine, breathing slowly.

He then brought my hands up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on my knuckles. Causing a soft gasp to leave my lips. I swear he would kill me one day.

"I love you too, Lovie."