#thay can be civil about it and tell us what to read if we are interested

[mintyfrogpluto]

What they're saying is that we are stealing Catwoman's trait of being a protector of Crime Ally, especially Women and Children, and Helena's trait of all the interpersonal relationships with people, basically their brand of Justice. ⟵ I read this in an anti-Jason post.

They think all of Jason's side of the fandom want this. And this is the reason most of fanfic writers take above concept for him in their writing.

Which they don't understand ...

1. Is none of their business what a fanfic writer do in their own work because they don't get paid to hear this bullshit. And everyone is entitled to their own imagination. They put their work out in the world for people who enjoy and appreciate it.

2. Not everyone in Jason's side of the fandom want him near Batfamily or in Gotham. I personally want him as far away from Gotham as possible. Because every Bat needs to get out of that hellhole to become somewhat mantally stable.

But we won't have that because DC likes to make him suffer and bind him to Batman one way or other. Especially Jason, whenever he's near them his mental health takes a critical hit. And we will see him getting used as a plot device without doing anything developing for his character.

This is the reason most people writing him in fanfics give him above interpersonal relations to people of Crime Ally, Women and Children, because he can't escape Gotham. So, why not give him something to do and continue his Crimelord Era without taking away what he stands for now.

And what is wrong with a character having same kind of epiphany, sense of justice without ever meeting the ones who started it way before him. He does not have to be original. He only have to be himself.

They want us to like these Female characters and stop giving cool things on all the Male characters. Maybe they are afraid that if we imagination it too much some day it will become true. And all the credits will go to him.

But aren't you guys here to hammer it to people's head who are the originals. Besides it will never became true.

And the way they keep telling people to read it especially Jason Todd fans is funny. We don't want to read it for this specific concept. We will read it if it ever become canon because it has Jason Todd. We will read it specifically for him. Those Female characters already delivering it before has nothing to do with it.

Everyone can like whoever they want it has nothing to do with male or female. Everything is fictional.

I've seen more posts about people claiming that Jason stans want him to be like Helena (catholic (??) with a soft spot for kids and women – which he has btw since the 80's, just depends who's writing–), than posts actually acknowledging and praising her as her own individual character ngl

[kukuandkookie]

Sinophobes are a fun batch of people because they will write shit like this and completely mean it. 🤣

They always refer to the Red Guard and the evil CCP and how badly it destroyed Chinese culture and tradition, but they never want to address the fact that there’s a historical domino effect for why China rejected tradition for a bit (if you get stomped on by colonizers for a lengthy period of time, you’re naturally going to feel like you didn’t modernize fast enough to fight back against said colonizers).

These sinophobes also never want to address the fact that so much of Chinese tradition and culture is actually alive and well in China! It still exists—meaning you can literally fucking wear a hanfu on the street or eat some traditional food or go to a fucking museum or read a traditional poem or look at some traditional art. And what even is the Chinese tradition and culture they’re referring to, anyway?

China is so big and diverse with such a long history, are you going to say the other ethnicities don’t count as part of China’s cultural identity? Like on China destroying culture, does that mean the Qing dynasty doesn’t count as Chinese because it had Manchu leaders and influence? Are we really going to act like Taiwan, Singapore, Thailand, and Malaysia can encapsulate all of China’s complex history and culture when a) it is so complex and b) they have their own fucking cultures and histories???

Like I’m pretty sure if you told a Taiwanese person or a Thai person that the place they’re from is an embodiment of China, they’d be pissed off at you.

Even with how contentious Taiwan is, whether you’re pro- or anti-China, you’re not going to bring up the history of Qinshihuang and the terracotta warriors or the Great Wall etc as being part of Taiwanese history. So why would you expect to find the major aspects of Chinese culture and tradition in Taiwan? Especially when I thought we were supposed to see Taiwan as its own thing!!!

Comments like this one just fascinate me because they’re obviously wrong, yet they’re so happy being wrong since they come from this stubborn prejudice that doesn’t fucking care that China actually does still have its historical traditions and cultures and that they’re actually pretty decently intact for a nation with a history as long and as chaotic as China’s. But this comment fascinates me all the more because it feels like they went so anti-China they got confused by their own messaging, because why does it sound like you don’t see Taiwan and Singapore and even Thailand and Malaysia as having their own unique identities and cultures? 😂

This is also why bad faith comments like this become amusing after a while:

People like this don’t believe that there can be anything good about China. They pretend to be all civil and tell you to “just focus on the good of China,” but they don’t mean it lmao. Because as soon as you post something about China that is positive, such as praising its greener energy efforts or its high speed rail or what have you, these people will tell you it’s fake or ask, “But at what cost?”

It’s just ironic, and in multiple ways.

It’s not okay to run accounts and channels hating on the US but it’s okay running accounts and channels hating on China like China Uncensored or that one David Zhang guy who I swear to fucking God I wish YouTube would stop recommending to me when I search up “China vlog”—?

But most of all, it’s ironic because Chinese people can and do “sell the beauty of China,” but sinophobes have their ears and eyes closed to shit like that. What can you do, am I right? ;P

Which is why more and more Chinese people are becoming pro-China, and then sinophobes wonder why Chinese people are so brainwashed.

It was literally just a few weeks ago that someone praised a video on Chongqing because it showed the city in a more mundane light rather than painting it as a cyberpunk city, and when people disagreed with them, they said this:

The answer to their last question is obviously “the sinophobia here stems from you immediately doubting anything positive about China as propaganda and then assuming anyone who disagrees with you is a CCP shill while also insisting that China itself must be a dystopia in reality” (also, Chongqing went viral because of tourists on TikTok, and no, you can bet they weren’t paid by the Chinese government, so how exactly is it propaganda again?).

People like this wonder why there are so many “CCP shills” out there to the point they feel the need to call them the “CCP Junior Kids’ League” without realizing they’re contributing to the creation of these “CCP Junior Kids’ League” members.

Because oh, I don’t know, buddy—maybe antagonizing an entire nation doesn’t always endear you to that nation’s citizens?? I know I for one became more pro-China after being surrounded by sinophobia online, and I’m a Canadian-born Chinese who never even really felt Chinese growing up.

And the funny thing about sinophobia is that it’s just this quiet, increasingly acceptable aspect of western society. It’s not a hate that’s outwardly violent or brutal, so it’s not as big of a deal. It’s almost mundane and banal. That’s why I always feel weird discussing it, like I should be putting disclaimers everywhere that emphasize I’m western, I’m educated, I’m critical of nationalism and patriotism, because if I didn’t, I’d just be another “member of the CCP Junior Kids’ League.”

And now I feel guilty discussing it because sinophobia can’t be easily compared to other forms of racism that manifest in far more brutal ways, especially in this current day when Israel is committing literal genocide with such cruel, fully dehumanizing, hate-filled, racist roots.

But whenever I do discuss sinophobia, it’s stuff that’s built up over weeks and weeks and weeks. I do curate my spaces and I do ignore prejudice when I have to (eg I learned the hard way to NEVER search up “中国🇨🇳” on Twitter because you will get a lot of racism against China from Japanese users). It’s only when it gets to a point that I’m exasperated and rolling my eyes that I vent on Tumblr.

I will admit though that the more time passes and the more sinophobia becomes normalized, the more my exasperation also turns into mild amusement. They hate China so much, man. They will literally never change their minds. They will always be this ignorant. Isn’t that wild? 😂

And although, when I do think deeper about it, I do admit I think it’s a pity that people can walk the streets and think of what are essentially my people (ancestrally speaking, anyway) in such a degrading, delusional fashion and be so wrong about China, yet it’s just a fact of life. It’s pretty normalized and not something that will likely be challenged because it’s “not wrong morally” to hate on China as long as you emphasize “I hate the government.” So I can only be exasperatedly amused by their ignorance.

[finelinevogue]

We need more Bella and Megan content!!! Insta posts were so cuutee!!! Maybe a blurb abt the relationship between Megan and the family?? It could be interesting… I imagine then being a very open and close knit family u know, where they can talk freely about anything,and yes including sex, and I think it could be interesting to see how maybe bella needs some advice/want to talk to someone about being intimate w her gf and doesn’t know how to bring that up to her family bc she is embarrassed and doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable?? I’ve never read a doc like this, or where one of the kid is not straight (only w/ Harry or the reader being bi) and yeah it should be written abt more.

megan and belle are sooo cute yes! ok let’s see where this goes!! hope you have fun reading;

belle - 18

“Will you stop faffing, you look beautiful honey.”

You slapped Belle’s hands from playing with her outfit again. Tonight you and Harry were properly meeting Megan for the first time, by taking them out for a meal at this new Thai restaurant down the road. Belle had been worrying all evening as she was getting ready, coming downstairs multiple times to show off outfits to you so you could give them your honest opinion. It didn’t help her when you said she looked beautiful in all of them. Belle wasn’t into playing “girly” dress-up, but she thought that putting effort in for her girlfriend, tonight, might be a good idea. So she’d finally decided on some denim jeans, a basic top and then one of Harry’s old blazers. She looked amazing.

“Just so nervous.”

“Why? You like them, right?” You asked, adding on a bit of lipstick, whilst you were sat at the table of this fancy restaurant.

“Yeah. Like really like them.” Belle emphasised, shrugging off the blazer as she was becoming too hot with nerves.

“Well then we’ll really like them too. We trust you.” Harry butted in, sitting as close to you as he could whilst sat in these chairs. Before you’d managed to sit down at the table he’d moved your chair along to be closer to his, meaning he could slink his arm around the back of your chair and have his hand in your lap if he wanted to. Even after all these years he still knew how to make you feel especially loved.

Belle’s phone pinged and it made her freak. “Oh god, it’s Meg. They’re here.”

“Okay, B. Calm down and go and get them from outside, we’ll just order some wine or something.” You ordered her softly, trying to put your daughter more at ease. She was more nervous than you imagine Megan would be.

Your daughter stood up from the table, both you and Harry smiling at her. “Okay.” She pushed her chair in behind her and about to walk off, but she quickly turned back to you both, “Remember; Megan Dover, they/them pronouns and don’t mention anything about astrology otherwise we will be dead before we leave this table,okay?”

You both chuckled at her, loving how she was so aware of her girlfriend and the things that were important to them. “Okay love. Now stop fussing and go.” Harry shooed his hand and his daughter away from the table. She turned back around to flash you two thumbs up and you both smiled at her, watching your all-grown-up baby walk away.

“We’ve done well Styles.” You turned to face him, to find he was already admiring you, thinking about the wonder life you’d both created and the wonderful children that had been a product of it.

“Was just thinking the same thing, m’heart.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss you, pressing his lips onto your lipstick-stained ones. He didn’t care if his lips became painted a different colour because of it, he would never miss the opportunity to give his beautiful wife a deserving kiss. He loved you too damn much.

You cupped his chin and he tightened his arm around you, that had been slunk around the back of your chair. He squeezed your thigh three times in signal for saying ‘I love you’ without any words needing to be spoke. You tapped his chin three times in return. Everyone always hated how loved up you two were, but really you just think they’re jealous of how perfect your relationship is. Sure you have your ups and downs, but isn’t that what makes it so perfect? You pulled away and looked into his dreamy eyes, kissing him once more for good luck, before returning your attention to your glass of water for a drink.

“Thirsty?” He asked you, keeping you close.

“Mhm. All that talking I was doing this afternoon on the phone to that bloody insurance company.”

“You did give them a piece of y’mind though, love. You were a lot more civil than I would’ve been.” Harry chuckled, waving his hand to catch one of the waiters attention.

“Seriously though? Nearly charged us an extra £1,000 for a service charge. Bloody fuckers.” You sighed and put your water back on the table after taking a lengthy sip.

“£1,000 isn’t really that mu—” He didn’t finish his sentence though because he caught sight of your stern face and knew exactly what you were thinking. You hated when he talked about money as if it wasn’t a problem, because you didn’t want your kids to grow up with that ideology. “You know what? They’re bastards and i’m proud of you for handling them so well.” He kissed you again and then the waited came over, stopping you from having a go at him for being cheeky. You pinched his leg in respond and he caught your hand, holding it tightly in his as if a warning for you to stop.

“Evening Sir. How can I help?” He asked politely, his serving towel draped over his forearm.

“A bottle of y’cheapest red wine please.”

“Certainly Sir.” And the waited was gone.

“Cheapest?” You asked confused, making Harry turn back towards you.

“Well it’d be a bit hypocritical of us to ask for our favourite bottle of wine, which is £1,000 darling, now wouldn’t it?” He smirked at you, knowing he’d played you just perfectly.

“Such a git.” You scoffed in pretend offence and then kissed him again too make sure that he knew you weren’t mad.

You both sat back and looked in the direction which now you could see Belle walking back over to you from where she’s gone to fetch Megan. Belle was guiding them book, Megan following closely behind her, and they were holding hands. They looked completely adorable and you wanted to just rush your camera out and snap loads of photos of them to remember this moment. Yes, you were that mum who takes a photo of everything and anything when it came to your children. You even had an album on your phone dedicated to your children’s haircuts… You leg started to shake nervously in anticipation.

“Calm down you!” Harry laughed quietly, just incase the two girls could hear you. Harry stood up out of his chair first and held out his hand for you to follow. He made sure your chair didn’t tip back as you stood and kept ahold of your hand as they approached you both.

You caught Belle’s eye and you could how happy she was from the twinkle within.

“Mum, Dad, this is Megan,” Belle introduces you all, Megan still stood slightly behind her, “Meg, this is my mum, Y/N and my dad, Harry.”

Harry was the first one to cross his hand over the table. “Lovely to meet you Megan.”

“And you Mr Styles, but please just call me Meg.” They shook hands together and Harry smiled at them warmly, wanting to make her feel as part of the family as possible. He was good at that.

“Well then then you, please, call me Harry. Makes me feel old otherwise.” His joke made the table laugh and ease any nervousness that had been there before.

“That’s because you are old, dad.” Belle added cheekily.

“Oi watch it you. Don’t think I won’t embarrass you in front of your girlfriend.” He raised his eyebrows teasingly and pointed sternly at his daughter, who did pack quite the punch with her snarky responses sometimes.

“I’m counting on it Harry.” Megan laughed, which made everyone chuckle again. Megan was such an easy girl to get along with and it was clear that they made Belle a very happy person, for that you indebted to them.

“And nice to see you Meg.” You shook your hands with Megan as Harry and Belle continued to banter over the table. You were sat opposite Megan, Harry next to you and Belle diagonally opposite you. You and Megan both sat down before Harry and Belle did.

“Likewise Mrs Styles,” you gave them a look which had them chuckling as they corrected themselves, “Y/N, sorry! Are they usually like this?” They asked you, watching Belle and Harry talk about some absolute rubbish.

“Oh don’t even start! They wind each other up all the time. Drive me up the bloody wall they do!” You laughed and you felt calmer when Megan laughed too. “Wine?” You offered them, having had the bottle delivered whilst you were all being introduced to each other.

“Yes please.” They smiled and held out the glass to help you pour. You poured them a generous glass and then followed by pouring yourself one too.

You weren’t blinded by the beauty of Megan. They had strong-loving brown eyes and blonde hair that seemed to be toned down with brunette roots. They had a simple face with perfectly plucked eyebrows and a fiercely sharp jawline. They were just very naturally pretty, that you could tell. They were wearing similar to Belle actually, which made you think they’d coordinated their outfits - your inner mum was freaking out over the soft thought. You and Harry often liked to coordinate outfits too, like tonight - both of you were wearing navy blue.

“You want wine B?” Meg asked Belle, breaking her away from the pointless conversation with her dad.

“What? Oh, yes, yes please.” Belle responded, shifting closer towards Meg and holding their hand again. They kept their public displays of affection to themselves, a bit like you and Harry had originally been. You filled up your daughters glass, but passed on filling up Harrys glass because he was driving home tonight.

“So what do you plan on studying at university Meg?” You started the conversation with the easiest question you could.

“Marine Biology.” They answered and you could tell they were clearly excited by the tone of happiness in their voice. You didn’t miss the squeeze of pride that Belle gave them either.

“That sounds good! Where abouts are you going to study?”

“Newcastle, actually.” Meg went quiet and you understood why, because Belle was going to the exact same university to study Engineering.

“Oh really?” Harry asked, pretending to be surprised but it definitely came through sarcastically - this earned him a kick under the table from his daughter.

“Oh shut up!” Belle rolled her eyes and Meg smiled at her playfulness with her family, it made them really happy that their girlfriend had such a loving and special family.

You were so not ready to send off your daughter to university, because she was your final baby to leave the safe nest of the Styles home and it was just going to be you and Harry left. You were excited for the time you’d have with him, but you were sad to see you final child leave you. You were even more excited for Belle to be going out and adventuring the world as she wanted to. She was going to do great things and you couldn’t be prouder of her. It eased you to know that at least Meg would be their with her - almost like a home away from home.

“You have any brothers or sisters Meg?” You asked.

“I have a younger sister, but she’s evil.” Meg laughed, before taking a sip of their wine.

“Evil how? ‘Cause my children are the exact same.” Harry spoke sincerely as if one of his children weren’t sat directly in front of him. It earned him another kick to his legs from his daughter. “See? Evil.” Everyone laughed, Belle just sulked.

“Well Ivy just terrorises everyone and anyone. She’s just evil.”

“Belle ain’t much better i’m afraid.”

“Dad! Meg is going to leave me if you keep painting me out to be an arsehole.” Belle rolled her eyes, but was brought out of her strop by Megan who brought her hand up to press their lips on her skin.

“Can’t chase me away that easily Belle.”

And it was that moment that you knew that Belle had found a forever partner in Megan, just as you had found in Harry.

[animationnut]

Of Broken Spirits and Renewed Hope

Spoilers for True Colors.

Rating: K+ Summary: Three human girls arrived in Amphibia. Only one made it back home. Note: If Google has any degree of accuracy, นางฟ้า is Thai for angel.

“Home.”

Anne felt her vocal cords vibrate in her throat, felt her tongue curve around the syllable of the word, felt her lips as they moved to accommodate her vocal cords and her tongue. But she was speaking from instinct, not intent, as her brain swam in a haze of mixed colours—green, pink and blue, and the orange glow of a blazing sword—

Anne could feel herself wavering on the edge, practically see the black abyss threatening to swallow her whole, but three harsh coughs interrupted her dark spiral.

“What’s that smell?” rasped Polly, covering her nose as she wheezed. Her gags racked her small form and Hop Pop quickly whipped a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to cover Polly’s face.

The buzzing in Anne’s ears stopped and the world exploded with sound and sensation.

Dozens of horns blared from commuters who were impatient and annoyed with traffic that should have been as familiar to them as the back of their hands. Heat seared Anne’s exposed skin as the metal of the vehicle they were lying on burned from the exposure to the Californian sun. Exhaust rose in black clouds, sour and noxious, burning Anne’s nose and making her eyes water.

There was the click of the car door opening and Anne snapped her head around. The portly man gazed blankly at her as his mind struggled to comprehend what he was witnessing. With a boggled expression, he looked between the girl wearing an armoured chest plate and the three large, anthropomorphic frogs sitting next to her.

“Hi,” chirped Anne, managing to sound upbeat and cheerful. “Sorry, dude. We’ll just be on our way.”

“Where did you come from?” he asked. Anne couldn’t identify his dialect, but his accent coupled with the maple leaf-shaped air freshener and his outfit screamed ‘tourist’. “And what the heck are those?”

Sprig opened his mouth, no doubt to introduce himself, but Anne seized the Plantars in a one-arm hold, squeezing just tightly enough for speech to be difficult. “Sorry,” she repeated, using her free hand to snag the strap of her backpack.

She slid down the hood and if it weren’t for months of walking over sticks, stones and hard, uneven ground, the hot asphalt seeping through her worn-out sock might have crumpled her. But she ignored the pain as she swung her bag over her shoulder. The weight of Frobo’s deactivated head nearly sent her sprawling, but she regained her balance and took off running.

She weaved her way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic, climbing over vans and sports cars and SUVs, ignoring the shouts and curses aimed her way by the disgruntled owners. She reached the metal barrier that separated the embankment from the freeway and she hoisted herself over it.

They tumbled down the grassy slope and Anne sprinted through the trees. The sounds of human civilization eventually quieted and Anne halted her sprint when she registered Sprig smacking at her arm.

She quickly let them go and they dropped to the ground. Anne’s knees buckled as the adrenaline drained right out of her. Her mind was a mess of thoughts and her lungs felt like they were going to collapse.

The flaming blade piercing through Marcy’s chest. The stunned expression in Marcy’s eyes, the way all colour faded from her face. The tears that spilled down her cheeks, and the final words that tumbled from her mouth as her eyes rolled back into her head.

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

Anne’s agonized scream was promptly choked by the vomit that filled her mouth.

Hop Pop was by her side in an instant, hands gripping her shoulders as she hunched over and hacked into the grass. Her throat burned and her limbs trembled, the sight of Marcy falling lifeless and the sound of Sasha’s horrified howl haunting her.

The sobs that pealed out of her came from somewhere deep inside the girl. They were filled with pure loss and devastation and it echoed amongst the towering trees. Tears poured down Anne’s face, snot leaked from her nose as she cried and her fists pounded into the grass as emotion overcame her.

“Marcy!” she wailed. “Marcy, nooooo! Maaaaarcyyyy!”

Hop Pop wound his arms securely around her neck and pulled her close. Sprig and Polly clung to her, and all of his grandchildren were in a state of grief, tears glimmering on their skin and their small bodies shaking.

Hop Pop swallowed back his own sadness. As traumatizing as it had been to see a child slain in front of his eyes, he had to be strong for his family. He stroked Anne’s hair, patted Sprig and Polly’s heads, and gave comfort not with words but his presence.

Anne cried herself hoarse. When she found she had run out of tears to shed, she weakly sat up and wiped at her face. “It’s not fair,” she said croakily. “Hop Pop, it’s not fair.”

“I know, kiddo. I’m so sorry.” Hop Pop rubbed his thumb gently over Anne’s knuckles.

“She sacrificed herself to save us,” said Sprig, squeezing his eyes shut against the swell of despair. “Her and Sasha.”

Anne gave a distraught moan, her head bowing slightly as the weight of two worlds crushed against her shoulders.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” ordered Hop Pop, and Anne reluctantly lifted her chin. “We don’t know what happened to Sasha. She’s a tough one. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“We don’t know that!” shouted Anne, her voice cracking. “Marcy should have been fine, but she isn’t! She’s dead, and Sasha might be too! This isn’t how it was supposed to go! We were supposed to come home together!”

She began to dry heave, stress and panic and grief clenching tight around her heart and making her feel sick. Hop Pop grabbed her face with both hands and stared steadily into her wet eyes. “Breathe with me. In and out.”

Anne’s first attempts resulted in strangled gasps, but eventually she gained control of her breathing. “I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.

“We worry about that later,” said Hop Pop firmly.

“But what about Andrias? And if Sasha is still alive—”

“Anne, right now, none of us are in a state to do much of anything,” said Hop Pop calmly. “To be honest, I don’t know if we can do anything.”

Anne blinked at him before realization hit. “The music box is still in Amphibia.”

Polly was crestfallen. “Does that mean we’ll never be able to go home?”

“What about Bessie and MicroAngelo?” asked Sprig desperately. “And Ivy! I didn’t get to say goodbye to Ivy!”

“Hush,” said Hop Pop soothingly, pulling Sprig and Polly into his arms. “The townspeople will take care of our snails, and I’m sure Ivy will understand, Sprig. As for going back home, I don’t know.” He let out a heavy sigh, feeling every year of his existence weigh down his bones. “Maybe we can figure something out. But if we can’t, we have each other. Home is where we are, even if we aren’t in Wartwood.”

He swept his eyes over his grandchildren, biological and adopted, and saw the words provided little peace in the moment of intense sorrow. But he knew they would come to appreciate how fortuitous it was that they returned to Anne’s world as a family, even when the losses they suffered hung darkly over their thoughts.

Anne was staring numbly at the ground and Hop Pop tugged lightly at her elbow. She fell easily into his embrace, as if she were made of nothing but feathers, and her forehead rested against the top of his head. For a moment they just stayed there, Anne’s body radiating warmth and causing Polly and Sprig to nestle closer to her, seeking her familiar heat.

Polly was the first one to hear the musical twinkling. She blinked over at Anne’s backpack. “Anne, your bag is singing.”

Anne slowly turned to follow Polly’s gaze, and it took her several seconds to register the noise. Suddenly it was as if a live wire had touched her and jolted to action, shrieking, “My phone!”

The Plantars were jostled as she dove for her bag. She ripped Frobo’s head out and Polly said furiously, “Hey! Don’t treat him like he’s junk!”

But Anne barely heard her. She plunged her hand into her bag, the bristles of her brush and points of her bobby pins sticking her flesh. Her fingers wrapped around her phone and she yanked it out.

Her text alert, which she hadn’t heard in months, was jarring to her ears. The notification center on her phone was being flooded by dozens and dozens of texts, missed calls and voicemail alerts. They poured in so fast Anne was only able to glimpse the names attached before they were replaced by another batch of notifications.

The majority of the texts were from Sasha, Marcy and Anne’s parents. There were a couple from the local police station, which caused Anne’s stomach to grow cold with fear. She hadn’t even considered the consequences of literally disappearing off the face of the Earth.

And then her phone froze, unable to keep up with the backlog of messages coming in all at once. Frustrated, Anne stabbed at her screen with her finger, but it was no use.

Her eyes fell upon the last text to make it to her notification center. It was from her mother.

Oh, นางฟ้า, your father and I miss you so much. We pray for a sign that you and the girls are alive, and that you will return home soon.

“Oh, Mommy,” whispered Anne, her fingers digging into the rubber material of her phone case.

Hop Pop approached and set a hand against her back. “Let’s go see your parents,” he said softly.

“But I don’t even know what to say to them,” she said helplessly. “I don’t know if they’ll understand. It’s…the things I’ve been through, the things we’ve been through, they don’t happen here. Not ever.”

“Well, we’re here to help you explain things,” said Sprig earnestly.

“Yeah, I’m…I think I might need some time to prepare them for you three,” muttered Anne. “They are so gonna freak out.” She glanced back at her frozen screen, and her heart plummeted as she read the most recent message from Marcy’s father. “Oh, how do I tell them?” she said in despair. “How do I tell Sasha’s parents that I had to leave her behind? How do I tell Marcy’s parents that their daughter is…is…”

Her voice wobbled and her eyes started to sting once more. Anne wanted to cry, but she didn’t have the energy nor the water for proper tears. Hop Pop gently set her phone back in her bag, which Anne allowed without protest. He laced his fingers with hers and said, “We’ll tell them the truth, Anne. That’s all we can do. We’ll tell ‘em how brave their daughters are.”

Anne gave a sniff. She tugged her hand free from Hop Pop’s grasp so she could rub at her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, for sure.”

She took a few minutes to gather herself, to try and clumsily sort through the heavy emotions swirling in her chest. She wanted to mourn, but there wasn’t time. She had to see her parents, had to tell them what happened.

“So, how long have you been gone?” asked Polly in a small voice, embarrassed by her earlier outburst. “Does time work the same way here?”

“Um…I don’t know.” Anne gestured to her pink backpack, where her phone was once again nestled safely inside. “It froze on me, so I can’t check the calendar or anything. And I didn’t get to see the dates on the first few rounds of texts.” She looked over to see the pollywog nuzzling Frobo’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Polly. I shouldn’t have thrown him around like that.”

“S’okay,” mumbled Polly. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just really sad and upset right now.”

“Me too.” Anne leaned over and brought Polly into her arms, pressing a gentle kiss against her head. “I’m sorry, Polly. Maybe we can fix him.”

“Yeah,” piped up Sprig. “He just needs a new body, right? When we get home, we can go back to that weird machine place and get him a fresh one.”

Polly perked up at that. “Yeah…yeah!” she said. “If we keep his head safe, we can rebuild him!”

There was hope in her eyes. It glimmered and shone and Anne found herself hypnotized by it.

Something flickered in her heart.

“Until then, we’ll do what we can here.”

Hop Pop, Polly and Sprig looked at her in surprise. The teen’s chin was set, her mouth settled in a determined line. “Anne?” ventured her best friend. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not just going to sit here and wait,” said Anne. Her own hope ignited, and the spark soon blazed throughout her whole being. “I’m not gonna just do nothing.” She set Polly down and stood, her fists clenched by her sides. “You’re right, Hop Pop. Sasha’s fine. Marcy…Marcy made the mistake of turning her back to Andrias, but that wasn’t her fault. Sasha won’t do that. She’ll find a way to take the box from that monster and open the portal again.

“But until she figures that out, I gotta do my part. That music box came to Earth somehow. The thrift store where Marcy found it, they had a wardrobe with the Amphibia symbol engraved into the wood. And Marcy knew what the box could do, which meant she found some information about it somewhere.”

She thought about Wartwood, her home away from home. She thought about Wally, Mrs. Croaker, Archie, Bessie, MicroAngelo, Toadstool, Toadie, Loggle, Ivy, Sylvia, Felicia, Stumpy, Maddie and the rest of her friends from the humble country town. She thought about Sasha, who despite her need for control and her habit of lying to get what she wanted, came through for her friends in the end.

She thought about Marcy.

She had tricked them into leaving their parents, their lives, and trapping them in a world so beyond imagination that Anne never in a million years would have dreamed it up. She had done it because she was so scared to lose the friends she loved most, so desperate to stay with Sasha and Anne forever.

She had been inconsiderate. She had been selfish.

So had Anne. So had Sasha. Marcy didn’t deserve to die for her mistakes—none of them did. They were just three teen girls who sometimes did stupid, stupid things.

But they cared about each other—Anne believed that. Even if it was misguided, even if it was manipulative, she knew Sasha and Marcy cared about her—they sometimes just went about it in all the wrong ways.

And even though Marcy was the reason they were in this mess in the first place, and even though Sasha’s trickery was the reason Anne didn’t initially believe her about Andrias, she cared about them, too.

Right now, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t sure if she still wanted to be friends with Sasha after all she had done. It didn’t matter that she still stung over Marcy’s own manipulative scheme to take her friends away from everything they ever knew.

However complicated her emotions currently were, it didn’t mean she couldn’t still care about the two girls she’d shared her most precious memories with.

She was going to find a way to get back to Amphibia. She was going to save her friends. She was going to bring her frog family back home. She was going to save Amphibia and countless other worlds from Andrias’ tyranny.

She wouldn’t let anyone else she loved die by his hands.

“We’re not helpless!” she said fiercely. “We won’t let him make us helpless! We’re gonna stop him!”

Her pupils and irises illuminated a bright blue.

“They did it again!” exclaimed Polly.

Anne blinked and the colour of her eyes returned to normal. “What?”

“Your eyes! They did the funny light-up thing! Are you gonna turn blue again?”

Anne flexed her fingers, but she didn’t feel numb or tingly, like she had when Andrias had thrown Sprig out the window. “No, I don’t think so.” She glanced down at her hands, brow furrowed. “To be honest, I have no idea how that happened. I don’t even really remember it? I mean, I know what I did, but it felt like I wasn’t in my body while I was doing it.”

Sprig looked between Polly and Anne in confusion. “I clearly missed something when I was falling to my death.”

“Oh, it was so cool, Sprig! Anne went all glowy, and she was using blue magic, and she was flying! She nearly beat the snot out of Andrias!” said Polly excitedly.

The words reverberated through Anne’s mind; She nearly beat the snot out of Andrias.

She could beat him. She was still connected to her stone, and that fact seemed to cause Andrias great unease.

“Do you think you’d be able to use those powers again, Anne?” asked Hop Pop, following her same train of thought.

“I’ll learn,” said Anne firmly. “I’ll figure it out. Once I get control of my powers, Andrias won’t stand a chance.”

There was no question of whether or not she’d be able to gain control of her newfound abilities—she had to. It was her best bet to defeat Amphibia’s king.

Sprig tilted his head to the side. “Do you know what activated them in the first place?”

Anne regarded him, intense warmth and adoration bubbling in her stomach, and she gave a soft smile. “You. When he threw you out the window, I thought you were dead, and I was so angry.”

At a momentary loss for words, Sprig’s eyes filled with touched tears and he jumped into her arms. “Oh, Anne.”

“I love you,” said Anne passionately. She lowered to her knees and brought Hop Pop and Polly into her steel embrace. “I love all of you. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

“We love you too,” said Hop Pop tenderly, lightly running his fingers through her curly hair. “That’s what we’ve got over Andrias—love for one another. Pardon the sappiness of it, but that’s what we’ll use to beat him.”

“It’s not sappy at all,” said Anne. “It’s the truth.” She gave them one more tight squeeze before setting them back down. She grabbed her backpack, swinging it over her shoulders, and she picked up Frobo’s head. “Come on. I’ve kept Mom and Dad waiting long enough. I can’t wait for you guys to meet each other.”

They headed back to the freeway, where Anne hoped one of the stuck commuters would be willing to lend her their cell phone so she could call her parents to pick them up. As they made their way up the littered slope, Anne closed her eyes briefly.

Hang on, Wartwood. I’m coming back for you. Do what you can until I get there, Sasha. I know you can do it—you never give up.

A lump swelled in her throat, and she swallowed back a sob.

We won’t let him win, Marcy. I promise we won’t. You saved us, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t return the favour.

A breeze kicked up, ruffling her thick, curly hair, and in the caress of the wind she swore she could hear a carefree giggle and a sweet summons of Anna-Banana. She let out a slow breath, and a lone tear spilled from the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek.

I forgive you, Mar-Mar. I forgive you.

[atlafan]

Office Neighbors - Part Twelve

a/n: a lot going on, but a happy time all around, enjoy! (reblogs and feedback are super helpful!) not proofread, sorry!

warnings: angst, fluff, smut...the word “homo” is used negatively. If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read, or skip over that scene, you’ll be able to tell it’s coming. 

words: 16K

masterpost

Harry made love to you, quickly, before Andy got home. You both were just getting yourselves cleaned up when you heard the front door open and close.

“Hello?! I thought you guys were going to the pub.” Andy says and you both hustle out of the bedroom. “Did you say yes?”

“I said yes!”

Andy beams at the two of you and rushes over to give you both a hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks, buddy, thought we all could go out and celebrate together.” Harry says. “Wanna go wash up?”

“Yeah!”

The three of you all go to the Thai place for dinner, and then head home to enjoy the ice cream cake. You were beyond excited, and you promised yourself you’d call everyone tomorrow to give them the good news.

“When are you gonna tell Mum?” Andy asks Harry with a mouth full of cake.

“Um, m’not sure yet. I’d like to tell my own mum first.” Harry chuckles. “I’ll have to FaceTime her when I first get up tomorrow.”

“I’m sure we’ll tell your mom soon, Andy.” You smile at him.

“What kind of wedding do you wanan have?”

“Small.” You and Harry say at the same time.

“Just close friends and immediate family.” Harry says.

“I thought girls liked big weddings, though?”

“Not all girls.” You laugh. “I think it’s more special when it’s intimate. When you have giant weddings you care more about making everyone coming happy when the days is supposed to be about you and your partner.”

“What did Phil and Julian do?” Andy asks.

“Oh, they’re not married. They’re in a civil union. They were rings, but they’re not married.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “It just wasn’t something they wanted to do. Not everyone needs to get married. I think it depends on your values and stuff. Your dad and I both really like the idea of marriage, so we’re getting married.” You smile.

Andy nods and continues on with his cake. Later on, after Andy goes to bed, you and Harry find yourselves having a little make out session in bed. You were straddling him, and he had his arms wrapped around you.

“Can I ask you something?” You breathe.

“Yeah.”

“I love the ring, I really do, but…” You bite your bottom lip.

“But what?”

“I just wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

“That’s what she said.” He bursts out laughing and you roll your eyes with a sigh. “Sorry, I had to.” He strokes your cheek. “I figured that since we won’t be spending a lot on a big weeding that I could go a little extra on the ring.” He pecks your now swollen lips. “I thought you deserved a nice, big rock to go along with my nice, big co-“

“If you finish that sentence I swear to god I will pack up and leave.” Harry laughs and grins at you. “You’re in a goofy mood tonight.” You run a hand through his hair.

“I’m giddy, babe.” He kisses you again. “I’ve never had a fiancé before.”

“Hmm, me neither.” You smirk.

“Look at us, having a real first together.” He boops your nose and you can’t help but giggle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

You lean back in and lightly bite down on his bottom lip. You suck on it before licking into his mouth. He squeezes your hips before sliding his hands to your ass. One of his hands traces around your stomach and inside your leggings. He tugs on the band of your panties and slips his hand inside there as well. You grunt against his lips, but let him continue. His fingers slide between your folds, and you tug at his hair.

“Sure you’re not too tired for this? You’ve had a long day…” He says as he looks up at you, still feeling around.

“Yes.” You groan. “Then when we’re done I’ll be about ready to pass out.”

“Okay.” He cranes his neck to kiss you, and he slides two fingers inside you.

You gasp into his mouth from the feeling. He drags his fingers in and out of you slowly and rub his thumb over your clit. You rock your hips back and forth at the same pace as his fingers. You grip at his shoulders as it becomes more intense.

“Put one of your hands back in my hair, babe.” He grunts. You were soaking his fingers and he was trying to not lose it in his pants.

You do as he says and get a good grip on his locks and he moans softly. You press your lips back to his, not wanting to be too loud, and continue to ride his fingers. He curls them up and pets them against your front wall and you gasp again. You continue to moan into each other’s mouths as you get closer to your breaking point. The hand you have on his shoulder slides down his torso, and you tug on his jeans.

“No, it’s okay.” He tells you. “This is just about you, Y/N.”

“But it’s gonna hurt if I don’t.” You whimper.

“It’s fine, baby, just wanna get you off.”

He bites your bottom lip and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You come around his fingers and ride out the shocks. He slowly removes his hand from you and he sucks his fingers into his mouth as you catch your breath.

“Harry, are you sure you don’t want me to-“

“No, sweetheart.” He pecks your lips. “You were gone for so long, just missed you.”

You kiss him again and get off of him to go clean yourself up. Truth be told, even if Harry had let you rub and tug at him, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to come. He was fine earlier, but the conversation during cake was distracting him. How was he going to tell Paige has engaged, and more importantly, how was he going to tell her she wasn’t invited?

//

Harry had sworn Andy to secrecy. He explained he wanted Paige to find out from him. Anne and Gemma were overjoyed with the news, as were your family and friends. You sent them all pictures. You even had Andy take a few pictures of you and Harry together in the backyard as a makeshift engagement shoot, it was fun. Andy blew bubbles to add some aesthetically pleasing effects.

“I swear if he doesn’t go to a college for art, it would be a damn shame.” You say as you look through the pictures. “Might post this one on my insta.” You show Harry a photo of you and him, he was holding you from behind and you both had big smiles on your face.

“Whatever you want, babe.” He kisses your cheek.

“So, there’s something I wanna run by you…” Andy was over at Caroline’s today so it was the perfect time to chat about wedding stuff. You were outside with him as he was gardening.

You enjoyed sitting in a chair while he would tend to the flowers. He always looked so cute with his bucket hat and tools.

“What’s up?” He says, turning to look at you. He takes his hat off and wipes some sweat from his forehead.

“How long do you wanna wait to actually get married? I mean…there’s not rush, but I don’t know if I wanna wait that long.” You look down at your lap and twiddle your thumbs. “I’m one-hundred percent sure about us…”

“So am I.” He scoots over to sit in front of you and he takes your hands in his. “Wouldn’t have proposed if I wasn’t. I just figured we’d be engaged for a while so we weren’t planning while you were working. This is a big year for you.”

“I know…but planning a wedding could be a good distraction for me. It’s like you’re always saying, I probably don’t have a great work-life balance. I could carve out time to work on both.”

“Alright, when are you thinking, then? This spring?”

“I was actually sort of thinking later this fall.” You mumble and look at him. His eyes widen and his mouth suddenly feels dry. “Like beginning of November? I was thinking maybe we could have a really small ceremony at the Boston Commons, and then Julian mentioned on the phone he could get us a deal at the hotel. It would be perfect for your family and whatever friends you’d want to have fly in. He said we could use one of the smaller function rooms for the reception. It’s still warm enough in Boston in November to be able to do something outside too.”

“Would…would just a couple of months be enough time for you to get an outfit together. I know you said you weren’t sure if you wanted to wear a dress, but fittings take time regardless.”

“Honestly, I was thinking of just taking a trip down to Macy’s with Nora and looking at some stuff there. I might wear a dress, but if I see a pantsuit I like I may go for that. I’ll wear white still, I think, I don’t really like the blushes or the peaches…” You try to read his face, which could be very difficult sometimes. “Are you having an internal freak out? Is this all too soon for you?”

“No, not at all…um, people just might think you’re, uh, pregnant since we’re rushing a little.” He swallows. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No, I would tell you if I was, babe.” He nods at that. “I just, I mean, it’s nice to be your fiancé, I just can’t wait to be your wife, that’s all.”

His features completely soften. He felt like a puddle of mush. He was so fucking in love with you, and that love, for the first time in his life, was actually being reciprocated. Truth be told, he’d take you right to the courthouse now if he could. He definitely didn’t want a long engagement, he just didn’t want to add to your stress. He stands up and cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

“But you’re gardening.”

“I’ll get back to it in a minute. Let’s go grab my planner and see what weekend could work best in November.”

“You’re serious?!” You nearly squeal as you stand up.

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I wanna be your husband as soon as possible too.”

You wrap your arms around Harry’s neck, and he hugs you back briefly before you go inside. He grabs his planner from up in the loft and you both go into the kitchen to sit at the table to look at it.

“Here.” He taps on a date. “November 6th…”

“Oh, and it’s a Saturday, that’d be perfect, baby.”

“You really wanna get this all together by then? It’s gonna be a lot.”

“Julian’s got my back with the hotel, and Phil said his restaurant could cater the buffet. We’ll save a ton of money. Also, Mark’s part-time job is a DJ, so music is covered too. We just need to get your family here, essentially.”

“What about a honeymoon? Do you wanna take a trip or something?”

“Andy usually goes to Paige’s for Thanksgiving, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So what if we just take that entire week off? We could go somewhere warm if you wanted…or, I mean…I’m sure I’ll be spending the holidays in London with you, we could go on a trip then?”

“No, that’s a family thing, and yeah, you’re definitely coming.” He ponders for a moment. “I think a trip during Thanksgiving week could be fun, actually. You won’t miss your family?”

“I mean, I will, but we’ll see them at the wedding.” You shrug. “I’d much rather take a little vacation with you.”

“Where would wanna go?”

“On a gigantic level if money was no object? I’ve always wanted to go to Greece, but I know that would be tough to swing, especially on such short notice…”

“Hmm.” He puckers his lips in thought. “Yeah, that’s something we should really plan out…maybe we could save that trip for another special time.” You nod at him. “Somewhere warm…oh! What about Florida? That’s a perfect time of year to go, and hurricane season will be over. We could go to Miami or something.”

“I’ve never been to Miami! That would be a lot of fun, there’s so much to do there.”

“Alright, it’s settled then.” He slaps his hand down on his planner playfully. “We’ll get married in on the 6th, and then we’ll go on our honeymoon during Thanksgiving. I’m a master at planning flights, so let me take care of that, yeah? If Phil could get us a menu or something I’d like to do a tasting…”

“Agreed.” You were smiling ear to ear. “Oh my god, we just set a date!” You squeal and throw your arms around him. “I love you.” You kiss him. “I love you so much.” You kiss him again.

“I love you too, baby.” He kisses you. “Now, let me go back to tending to my flowers, I’ll be pissed if my roses get fucked up.”

He gets up and you can’t help but giggle at him.

//

It was time for the annual back to school shopping trip. You stayed back since it was a tradition for Andy to go with just his parents. You didn’t mind. Andy not only needed new school supplies, but he needed some new clothes as well. He had grown another few inches over the summer. His doctor thinks he’s going to be about six feet by the time he’s a sophomore in high school. Harry and Paige decide to meet up at Old Navy for the shopping spree.

“Okay, Mum and I are going to hang by the changing rooms. You can go around the store on your own, look for sales, and then you will try on the clothes for us.” Harry says firmly.

“Fine, but no coming into the room with me.” Andy mutters. “It’s embarrassing.” His voice cracks slightly and then he clears his throat.

“So you want me to tug on your jeans out in the open? Alright.” Paige shrugs.

Andy makes an exasperated noise and walks away, making Harry and Paige laugh. The two make their way to go sit at the chairs outside the changing rooms.

“I’m surprised you’re not looking around yourself.” Harry says to her.

“I have plenty of clothes.” She chuckles.

“Listen, uh, while he’s busy looking at clothes, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He takes out his phone and shows Paige his lock screen, which was now a picture of you two kissing, and you were cupping Harry’s cheek with your left hand to showcase the ring. Andy had given you about two seconds to stage the photo.

“Um…why are you showing me a picture of you two kissing?”

“Look closer, at her hand.” He sighs.

Paige squints and then gasps, putting a hand over her mouth.

“Oh! You…you proposed to her already? That’s great! Congratulations.” She moves to hug him, but he shakes his head no.

“We’re in public.” He mumbles. “Anyways, yeah, we’re engaged now.”

“That’s incredible, I’m really happy for you.” She gives him a sincere smile. “Andy knows?”

“Yeah.”

“When did you do it?”

“A week or so ago.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“No offense, but you weren’t exactly top of my list of people to tell immediately. I was waiting until I saw you for this. We’ve been busy figuring things out. What Andy doesn’t know is that we’ve set a date already. We plan to tell him later. We wanted to make sure everything could happen where we want it before we started telling people.”

“Holy shit, you already set a date?” She puffs out some air from her lips. “Well, that’s great. When is it? I’ll put it in my phone now.”

“You don’t need to do that.” He puts his hand over hers to stop her from taking her phone out. “We’re keeping it really small.”

“So?”

“So…immediate family and close friends only at the ceremony and then a few extra friends at the ceremony.” She gives him a confused look. “You…you’re not invited.”

Before she has a chance to react Andy comes over holding a pile of clothes.

“Do I need to try every little thing on? Or is one outfit okay?”

“One, um, one outfit’s fine.” Paige says. “Go on.”

“Mum, are you okay, you look pale?”

“The, uh, leather from the shoe section is wafting over here and it’s giving me a headache. I’m fine, baby, go try your things on.” They watch Andy go into the dressing room, and she turns to look at Harry. “Alright, run that by me again.”

“You heard me the first time.” He says quietly. “You may have wanted me at yours, but I don’t want you at mine. Do you know how embarrassing it was to be put at the old college buddy table?”

“I thought you’d feel more comfortable there! Where did you want me to put you?”

“How about with my son?!”

“Okay.” Andy says coming out in a tee shirt and jeans. “Tug away if you must. They fit really well, though.” Paige huffs and stands up to check out the clothes. She tugs on the waist of Andy’s jeans and nods. “Can we go to the shoe store after? I was thinking I could get some boots for fall.”

“What kind of boots?” Paige asks. “You have two sets of snow boots, and rain boots already.”

“Like…like the boots Dad wears.”

“I can order you some online, I get them from a shop in London.” Harry says. “I like this outfit on you, go ahead and change and then we can check out.”

“I don’t know why you thought now would be a good time to bring this up to me.” She says. “You’re really hurting my feelings, Har.” She says quietly as Andy goes to change.

“I knew I’d be seeing you.” He shrugs. “I…I can’t keep doing this with you.”

“Doing what?”

“Pretending like we’re best friends who hooked up once and accidentally got pregnant. We were in a relationship for two years, and then you decided to walk away. Fine. We see each other and do this co-parenting for Andy. I feel like I leaned on you for a long time because you were around, but I have someone else in my life now to fill the hole you created.” He runs a hand through his hair and blinks a couple of tears away. “You have no idea how hard it was to sit there and watch you walk down an aisle that didn’t lead towards me.”

“Harry, I-“

“Okay, all set.” Andy says. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s my allergies, let’s go checkout.”

“Can we get lunch before we go to Staples?” He asks, and Harry and Paige look at each other.

“I don’t have time for that, honey.” Paige says. “Um, are you starving? I could get you a pretzel for a snack?”

“Okay.” Andy shrugs.

Paige and Harry split the payment for the clothes. Andy carries his bags out of the store, and Paige pulls Harry to walk next to her, behind Andy.

“This conversation isn’t over.” She says quietly to him. “Clearly you’ve been keeping some things buried and we need to hash it out.”

“Fine, but I’m not changing my mind about the wedding.”

The rest of the afternoon Harry and Paige said about two words together. She hugs Andy goodbye before she gets into her own car. Andy climbs into the back seat of the car.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“When can I start sitting in the front seat?”

“Hm, I don’t know, they change the safety ages all the time. When you’re thirteen I think? I can check when we get home.”

“Okay.” Andy picks at his bottom lip, a habit he picked up from Harry. “Is everything okay between you and Mum?”

“Never better, why?”

“Things just seemed weird with you both today.” Harry sighs at that. He’s not sure how honest he should be with Andy about all this.

“I told her about my engagement, and she was really happy for Y/N and I…but then I told her we set a date.”

“You did?! When?!”

“A couple of days ago, please act surprised, Y/N and I wanted to tell you together.”

“Okay.”

“So, Mum wanted to know when the date was, and I told her she didn’t need to worry about it because…I wouldn’t be inviting her.”

“But she invited you to hers, how does that make sense?”

“Andy.” Harry sighs again. “I only went to hers because of you. I wanted to see you all dolled up and walk her down the aisle. I also knew she just needed a little extra support because of Gramp not physically being there.”

“I’m…really confused…I thought you were, like, friends.”

“I know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Mum and I are friends, but sometimes she acts like we’re best friends, and it makes things difficult for me. I think she forgets that she…that she broke my heart, and that since it’s been so long it shouldn’t matter anymore, and I should just be over it, and I am, in a way, but I don’t like getting too comfortable with her.” Harry pulls into the garage and turns the car off. He turns to look at Andy. “I know you don’t know the full story, and you don’t really need to. Mum and I are okay, you don’t have anything to worry about, alright?” Andy nods at him. “Good, now, let’s go inside, Y/N will want to see all your new things.”

Andy acted as surprised and excited as he could when you and Harry told him about the date for the wedding. He was shocked that it was happening so soon, but happy for the both of you. He was excited to be a part of another wedding since his mother’s ended up being so much fun.

“Will I be allowed to bring friends?” Andy asks.

“You can bring one friend.” Harry says. “That’ll be fun, a little sleepover in a hotel.”

“Yeah! Wait, the Ariana Grande concert is in November…”

“No worries, Andy, it won’t conflict with anything.” Your assure him.

“Okay good.” He sighs with relief. “Caroline’s coming with me to that, so I guess I’ll invite Brandon to the wedding.”

“We’ll make sure to put you both in a suite with Grammy and Auntie Gem. You, Brandon, Ritchie, and Lizzie can all have your own party.”

“Cool.” Andy smiles. “I’m really happy for the both of you.” He gives you both a hug, and then goes into his room to put his things away.

“Well, he’s certainly handling things better than when Paige got engaged.”

“I think this is different with him. He had her to himself his whole life, and then all of a sudden he didn’t. I’d probably be resentful too, but he said he had a really great summer with Noah and Rachel, and that’s all that matters to me.” He looks back towards Andy’s room. “Can we go chat up in the loft?”

“Yeah.” You follow Harry upstairs.

“Just wanted some privacy, um, I told Paige we were engaged today.”

“Oh! How did she take it?”

“Good…at first.”

“What happened?”

“I told her we had set a date already, and she wanted to know what it was, and I told her it didn’t matter because she wasn’t invited.”

“And you thought a good time to have that conversation was while you were clothes shopping with your son?” You ask flatly.

“Everyone’s always telling me to rip the band aid, so I did.” He huffs. “We’re meeting tomorrow to talk more, she’s not happy with me right now, I sort of started to tell her off, but she just wasn’t understanding.”

“What else is there to talk about?”

“She seems to think we need to hash some things out, or whatever.”

“Well, there’s clearly some unresolved shit buried between the two of you. Where are you going to meet her?”

“For coffee in the morning…are you alright with that?”

“Yeah, I can hang out one on one with Andy for a bit. We can watch TV and eat pancakes.” You smile.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He takes your hands in his. “I hate that I even have to deal with this bullshit.”

“Harry…” You nuzzle your nose to his. “It’s okay.” He pecks your lips and sighs.

“Thank you for always being so cool about all this. I don’t know I’d do if you were a classic psycho.” He laughs.

“Oh, I’m plenty psycho, just not about stuff like this.” You smirk and kiss his cheek as he laughs more. “This isn’t something I have much control over, you know? It is what it is.”

//

Harry wasn’t really looking forward to coffee with Paige, but he gets up and goes like he said he would. She was there waiting for him already, sipping on a piping cup of tea. He sees that there’s a second cup on the table already.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hey.” She says. “I got yours…black coffee.”

“Thanks.” He sighs and sits down.

“Okay.” She sighs. “I don’t want this turning into something heated, I think we can both have a mature discussion, we’re adults.”

“Right.”

“What you said to me yesterday, I…I didn’t realize you were still harboring those kinds of feelings. It’s been so long, Harry, I thought you were over all of it.”

“I am.” He says as he sips his coffee. “But I can’t help it when memories come back and I’m reminded that I wasn’t good enough to be the one to put on a wedding for.”

“We would have just gotten divorced, and you know it.”

“Did you ever even love me?”

“Of course I did! I just thought it was puppy love, infatuation…lust.” She chews her inner cheek. “I didn’t think I’d be spending the rest of my life with you, I was twenty-one years old! I still wanted my life to be my own. We had an accident, a happy one, and I don’t regret a thing, I love Andy with every fiber of my being, and I’m happy you’re his father.” She looks away and then back at Harry. “We wanted different things, Har.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“You wanted to get married and have more kids, did you not?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t.” She says bluntly. “I certainly didn’t want to have more kids.” She scoffs.

“But you’re such a good mum!”

“It’s my choice! I never wanted to have kids!” Harry’s eyes widen at that.

“Then why did you?”

“Because…because when I looked at all of my options, I just couldn’t…I don’t know, I looked at it as fate or something, like I was meant to have Andy or something. It was a perfect storm, Har, the condom broke, and it never had before, and I gotten off the pill. I was supposed to be Andy’s mom, and that was plenty. You deserve to be with someone who wants the same things as you. Part of why I ended up with Noah is because I knew he didn’t want more kids either. I also like that he’s older, but that’s a whole mixed bag that I won’t get into.”

“Right, because I’ll always be the immature punk?”

“You’re a fucking year younger than me, get over yourself.” She rolls her eyes. “You really don’t want me at your wedding?”

“No.” He sips his coffee. “The last thing I want to think about that day is you. It was nice of you to invite me to yours, and because of Andy and Y/N I went. If I didn’t have her I honestly don’t think I would’ve gone. I’m sick of carrying around all of this baggage, Paige. I’ve known you for fifteen years, or at least close to it, and I feel lucky that we don’t fucking hate each other, but we need to distance ourselves more.”

“How do you want to do that?”

“No more family vacations.” She frowns at that. “You can use the cabin whenever you want, I don’t care about that, but Andy’s not a baby anymore, we don’t need to do every little thing together like we were doing. Unless it’s his birthday or a holiday, we don’t need to do something as all of us together. I feel like we lean on each other for things more often than we should because we were such good friends at one point, but you have a husband now…you don’t need me.” He swallows. “And I don’t need you.”

“I see.”

“Do you? I feel like you live in a fantasy world sometimes, and I enable it to not make waves. You never ask if something is awkward for me, or-“

“So if we have a party or something on the boat for Labor Day, you wouldn’t come to something like that?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’d have to ask my fiancé about how she would feel.”

“I just think it’s important to make memories with Andy with the two of us so he has that when he’s older.”

“And I agree with you. I’d like to continue doing our annual back to school shopping spree, and similar traditions. I think we’re really good co-parents, Paige, but that’s where it needs to end with us.” She blinks some tears away and then she chuckles.

“Feels like you’re breaking up with me. Must feel good.” She smirks.

“It does, in fact.” He smirks back at her. “You do understand where I’m coming from, though, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” She sighs. “I’m so sorry if I’ve been making things difficult for so long. I felt like because I left I needed to make sure you were okay, and that’s why I made sure to keep you so involved with everything. I wanted you to feel like family since yours is so far away.”

“And I appreciate that! Really, I do. I think for a while that worked for us, and maybe I was sort of relying on it because I was so focused on work, and I wasn’t really meeting people I wanted to date for long periods of time, but Y/N…she’s changed everything for me.” He takes a deep breath. “For so long I felt like I was never going to fall in love again, and that I somehow fucked up and missed my chance at having the love of my life, but I don’t believe that anymore. She’s the absolute love of my life, Paige.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more for you, Harry, please know that. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know it hurt like hell when I ended it. I knew things would work out for you eventually. I’ve loved seeing you so happy. You’ve got a pep to your step again.” She smiles. “Just like you used to.”

“So, we’re on the same page then…about us sticking to more boundaries?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “I think it’s for the best all around.” She sips her tea. “Will you at least send me pictures? I wanna see what Andy’s going to wear and all that. Oh!” She goes into her bag. “I don’t know if you want these, but I have some photos from the wedding. Ones with all of us, our friends, and a cute picture of you, Y/N, and Andy.” She takes out a baggie of pictures for Harry.

“Thank you, I do want these, actually. And I’ll make sure we send you pictures.” He smiles.

“Okay.” She smiles back. “Well, I’m glad we could just get it all out there and clear the air a bit.”

“I’m sorry I brought it all up while we were shopping with him, it wasn’t great timing.”

“It’s alright, I would have probably done the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

“While I have you…Andy asked me when he could start sitting in the front…”

“He did?!”

“Yeah, I told him I’d look it up. It’s thirteen, right?”

“I have no clue, those safety regulations change all the time. I’d say thirteen is good.”

“He’s gonna be so annoyed.” Harry chuckles.

“Just wait for him to bring it up again, and then tell him we said thirteen.” She crosses her arms. “And if he pulls some bullshit with you like he did with phone, you just send him to me and I’ll straighten his ass out.” She smirks.

“We’re excellent parents.”

//

With everything officially smoothed over with Paige, it was easy living for Harry. He was proud of himself for finally just laying it all out there. It made him much more chipper during syllabus week. It took your classes about two minutes into your lectures to realize the rock on your finger was an engagement ring, and many of your students squealed and congratulated you. Many that came by to see Harry congratulated him as well.

“Hey.” You say as you slip into his office, closing the door behind you and leaning against it. “Got a second?”

“Course, darling, what’s up?”

“Are we inviting our colleagues?” You whisper.

“To what?” You roll your eyes at him. “Ohhhh, our wedding.” He smirks.

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet, here we are, engaged.” He grins.

“Not for long.” You cross your arms.

“Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Would you like to invite them?”

“I mean…maybe to the reception? I really do want to keep the ceremony small.”

“I think we should invite them to the reception, yeah. They’ve been a part of our love story since the beginning, babe.”

“Especially Janette.” Harry nods at you. “Okay, so it seems like we’ll need to order some very specific invitations.” You chew your bottom lip.

“Y/N.” He hums. “This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

“It is!”

“You’re getting stressed.”

“I’m not!” He gives you an unconvinced look. “It’s the good kind of stress. The more we do, the more we get to check off, and then there’s no stress. I’m going shopping with Nora in a couple of weeks, I can’t wait.”

“Are you going to have a bach-“ There’s a knock on his door, and you open it.

“Oh…sorry to interrupt.” Andre blushes.

“You’re not!” You say. “We were just discussing, um, something not work related, I’ll just go.” You slip out.

“She can be a bit squirrelly sometimes.” Andre chuckles and Harry hums his response.

“What’s up?”

“Got an overload request from one of my students, and you’re his advisor so I need your signature.”

“Ah.” Harry waves him over and he signs the form. “They should really make these paperless so it’s les work.”

“I know, an email could easily suffice, thanks.”

Harry gets up and goes into your office, he closes the door and sits down in one of your chairs.

“Yes?” You chuckle.

“Has your hand been hurting at the end of the day?”

“No, why would it?”

“Well, it’s got so much extra weight on it now, I wanted to make sure.” He smirks, and you sigh heavily as you look at him. “Anyways, I was going to ask you if you plan to have a bachelorette party.”

“Oh, of course I do. Nora’s gonna plan the whole thing. We were thinking over Indigenous People’s Day weekend since most people will have that Monday off, do a long weekend type thing.”

“What do you think you’ll do?”

“Bar hop most likely.” You shrug. “Dance, drink, that sort of stuff. Are you going to have a bachelor party?”

“I don’t know who I’d have it with…” He twiddles his thumbs. “My two best mates live overseas, and I don’t want to ask them to fly twice, that would be insane.”

“So have them fly in a few days early and do something fun with them then. Our parties don’t need to be on the same day, you know? I’m sure we’ll be having lots of little parties between now and then.”

“True, Lucas sent us two different calendar invites.” He chuckles as he stands up. “Just promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“No strippers.” You burst out laughing at that. “Or exotic dancers.”

“What century are you living in?!” You wipe a tear away. “Harry, the only man I want giving me a lap dance is you, okay?” He nods as you bite your bottom lip.

“What?”

“Would you ever give me one? Do a little strip tease?”

“Maybe on our honeymoon.” He turns to walk towards your door, and then he looks at you over his shoulder. “And only if you’re a good girl.”

A chill goes up your spine as he leaves your office.

“What a fucking menace.” You say to yourself as you try to shake his words off.

//

Seventh grade was off to an interesting start. Harry annoyed Andy by taking first day of school pictures before he dropped him off. It was a new hallway and a new locker to get used to. Mostly everyone he had homeroom with the year prior was in his homeroom again. He noticed that some people had gotten taller, some voices had gotten deeper, some people’s skin had started to break out, and some of the girls looked…fuller. Andy hadn’t really noticed the changes amongst himself or his friends. Caroline was still as sweet as ever, but she did tell him in confidence that she started getting her period, so if sometimes she got snappy with him that may be why. Andy knew he had gotten a little taller, and he knew his voice was starting to crack, but he was thankful nothing else had really seemed to change.

He walks into his new homeroom, and sits down. Every year it was the same thing. The teacher would ask everyone their named, they’d give out locker information, and then the school handbook. Brandon comes in and sets next to Andy. This year Andy’s homeroom teacher was a science teacher, so it was all bench seating with two to a table.

“Hey.” Brandon yawns. “It��s crazy, every year I think I can get up early for school no problem, but here I am, running late.” He rolls his eyes.

“My dad makes me go to sleep and get up early at least a week before school starts. It’s annoying, but it helps.”

“It’ll only get worse, too.” Caroline says as she sits down with Tyler at the bench next to him. All of the tables were set up around the perimeter of the room. Andy was happy he’d be sitting next to his two best friends. “My sisters get up at 5:30 in the morning just to get ready for school.”

“Shit, why that early?” Brandon asks her.

“Shower, hair, makeup, and breakfast that my mom forces us to eat.”

“Luckily, we don’t have that problem.” Tyler says. “We can just roll out of bed.”

“Speak for yourself.” Andy scoffs. “I have to get up early to do my hair.” He runs a hand through it. Brandon smirks and ruffles Andy’s hair. “Quit it!” Andy giggles, and does the same to Brandon.

“You quit it.” Brandon giggles, and the two smile at each other.

After homeroom, it turns out Andy and Caroline have math together, and the teacher says they can sit where they like. They sit next to each other, and she smiles at him.

“What?”

“You know, you never told me what happened with you and Brandon after I left the wedding.”

“That’s because nothing happened.”

“So you didn’t dance with him?”

“No, we danced, but that was it…his dad called to tell him to be ready.”

“And nothing happened later on? I mean you both hang out all the time.”

“The timing just hasn’t been right.” Andy shrugs. “Playing basketball and skateboarding isn’t exactly romantic, Caroline…” He mutters.

“Sure it can! Remember when you were showing me? You had to put your hands on my hips and hold my hands.”

“That was so you wouldn’t fall!” He blushes. Andy remembers that day really well, and even though he asked Caroline first if he could touch her, he definitely enjoyed being able to show her a thing or two.

“Mhm, sure.” She smiles. “All I’m saying is, anything could be turned into a date.”

“Well…you know how my dad and Y/N are getting married in a couple of months?” She nods yes. “It’s gonna be in Boston, and I wanna invite him. They said I could have one friend come.”

“Oh, that’ll be great! I bet-“

“Alright, class, settle down. I’m hoping you all did your summer math work as we will be going over that after I take attendance. Welcome to pre-algebra.” The teacher says and everyone gets quiet. “Once we’re done with that, I’m going to give you all a pre-test to see what you remember.” The majority of the class groans. “I know, I know, a test on the first day, but it’s just for me to see how I can best help you.”

Andy takes his planner out and flips through a few months.

“What are you doing?” Caroline whispers.

“Counting down the days until art starts.” He side eyes her and she has to bite back a laugh.

After school, Brandon and Andy stand together as they wait for their rides. It was only a half day, but they were both exhausted.

“I’m really glad we have science and history together.” Brandon says to him.

“Me too. I have some classes with Caroline and Tyler too.”

“Same here. And there’s gym too for all of us at least.”

“I’m just glad we’ll still be able to call each other to do homework. I’d be really lost without you, B.”

Brandon smiles at Andy, and before Andy can say something else, he sees your car pull up. The boys say goodbye, and Andy climbs into the backseat.

“How was your first day?” You say to him.

“Okay.” He shrugs. “I think math is gonna be tough this year.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m pretty good at math, so don’t be afraid to ask me for help.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Is Dad teaching?”

“Yup, he’s in the middle of class. He’ll be able to get you tomorrow.” She grins. “I thought we could be a little adventurous and go to McDonald’s for lunch.”

“Dad doesn’t let me go there…”

“Well, you’re not with Dad, are you?”

“Can you even get anything there?”

“There’s a flurry and a large fry calling my name.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the best.”

//

Harry comes back from his class to see Andy sitting in his office. He was munching on some apple slices.

“Hey, buddy, how was school?”

“Good.”

“Did you have anything for lunch, or do you need some money?”

“No, Y/N took me to get something to eat quick.”

“Yeah?” Harry smiles. “What did you have?”

“Um…well…I don’t wanna get her in trouble…” He swallows his last apple slice as Harry furrows his brows at him.

“What do you mean?”

“She took me to McDonalds.”

“Andy.” Harry sighs. “Why would you ask her to take you there when you know I don’t want you eating that stuff?”

“She asked me! I told her you didn’t really like it, but she said it would be fine. I didn’t even get fries! I got a happy meal with apple slices.”

“That burger is gonna sit like a rock in your stomach.”

“I got chicken nuggets.” He mumbles.

“Whatever.” Harry huffs and sits down. “Your classes went alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you could tell Harry was a little tense. You brush your teeth and look at him through the mirror.

“Any particular reason why you’re staring?” He asks as he spits the mouthwash he was swishing into the sink. He turns around to look at you.

“I’m just trying to read you. You’ve been sort of quiet today. Are you alright?”

Harry crosses his arms and looks at you intensely. You hated it when he looked at you like this. His features were hard, and he just looked intimidating.

“Why did you take Andy to McDonalds after he told you I don’t like him eating there?”

“Are you serious?” You laugh. “I just wanted to have a little fun with him.”

“By undermining me? Didn’t we have a chat about this, like, a long time ago when I did it to you? And that was by accident, you did this on purpose.”

“You act like my intention was malicious. What’s the big deal? We eat out all the time?”

“Yeah, we get pizza from the place downtown that uses locally sourced ingredients, or we get Thai food. Not fucking-“

“He got chicken nuggets and apple slices, it’s not like he pigged out.”

“Because he knows better.”

“You know, you never exactly told me he couldn’t eat there.”

“Well, he told you, and you went anyways.”

You had a couple of options here. You could easily argue with him. You could tell him how stupid it was to be upset over something like this, but if you did that you wouldn’t be validating his feelings. So, you swallow your pride.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” He scoffs.

“Harry.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want me to be upset anymore.”

“You’ve been keeping this bottled up all day.” You sigh.

“Because I didn’t want to talk about it in front of him.” He looks away.

“Say it, Harry.”

“Say what?” He looks at you again.

“Tell me he’s your kid and not mine, and that I had no right to just change the rules.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s okay, that’s what you’re thinking, right? It’s not like that’s false. He’s your kid, and I’m his buddy. Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be to him, but someday you and I are gonna have a baby, and I’d like to treat that eventual kid once in a while with some fast food.”

“I guess we can cross that bridge when we come to it.” He plucks at his bottom lip. “You’re more than just a buddy to him, you have to know that. That’s not what I was trying to say, I just wished you had asked me first.”

“You were in class! I just, ugh, I had a craving for fries and ice cream, I really am sorry.”

“A craving, huh?”

“Don’t even go there. You never crave food?”

“Sure, I crave things all the time, doesn’t mean I always indulge.”

“I won’t take your son there again, okay?”

“Stop it.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “He’s yours too. And maybe I should have told you I didn’t want me ingesting that crap.” You roll your eyes at that. “But I know he sees you as a mom.”

“I mean, one time he told me I’d make a good one, but-“

“He referred to you as ‘Mum’ once.”

“He did?! When?”

“When we went to Boston over April vacation, when I had to put him to bed…he said he was having fun with me and ‘Mum’…he was like half asleep, but still.”

“Maybe he just got me confused with Paige.”

“No, baby, he knew who he was talking about.” Harry hugs you, and cups your jaw. “He loves you and he knows you love him too, and I love knowing that you two are bonding. Take him to Sub Way next time, yeah?”

“Okay.” You smile and he kisses you. “I really am sorry, I didn’t think you’d be so upset.”

“It’s alright…we’re on the same page now, right?”

“Yeah.”

He nods and lets you go. You both get into bed and curl up with each other. You turn over to face him, and you nuzzle into his chest. He holds you close to him and strokes your back. He kisses your forehead and basically lulls you to sleep. Times like this you didn’t mind being babied at all.

//

“Look at that size of that thing!” Nora exclaims when she meets you at the mall in Manchester to go shopping. “Makes sense that he got you something so massive. Big dick, big ring.”

“Nora!” You squeal and nudge her. “Shh, come on, let’s go look at clothes.”

“Still thinking you might wanna do a suit?”

“Yeah, I feel like I’ll be the most comfortable in that. I feel like I’ll just look classy, you know?”

“You’ll look stunning.”

You both walk through Macy’s and look at all of the options. The pants were the easiest part. A high-waist pair of slacks would look gorgeous, it was finding the right top. You didn’t want to wear a body suit or a corset.

“Oh! What about this?” Nora says, waiving you over. “It’s lace, so it’ll add some texture.”

“It’s beautiful. I like the spaghetti straps. Let’s see if it works with the pants and blazer.”

“And the heels. You’re gonna be a show stopper.” You both giggle and go into the dressing room. You try everything on and step out. “It’s gorgeous, it’s so you in every way.”

“You think so?” You bite your bottom lip. “I think a bun and a veil will look great with it. I love it.”

“Harry really doesn’t care you won’t be in a dress?”

“Nah, I was actually thinking of changing into a short dress for the reception. Something simple.”

“Oh! I saw a cute short, white dress out there. Let me go grab it. It had a high neckline, but it was open in the back.”

“That sounds perfect!”

You buy everything, and have them put into nice dress bags. You and Nora decide to grab a bite to eat.

“So…can I ask you something?” Nora says to you.

“Of course.”

“Not that I’m not over the moon happy for you, but is there a reason you’re getting married so fast? I know you’ve known for a couple of years, and things are different at our age, but…you’re barely going to enjoy your engagement.”

“I’m enjoying it plenty, trust me. I just didn’t want to wait until after I got my doctorate, you know? I…I wanna start trying for a kid as soon as I get my degree, and I told him I didn’t care if we were married or not, but I think I do care. I wanna be married and have that extra security if I’m going to have a baby with someone. We love each other, why wait?”

“And he’s okay with all this?”

“Yeah! I think sometimes it’s tough for him to accept how much I wanna be with him because of his ex, but he’s coming around. He’s really excited. I mean, I am too. I’m finally going to meet his family in person, and his two best friends.”

“Maybe one of them will fall in love with me, and I’ll have my own British man to sweep me off my feet.”

“One of them’s Irish.”

“Mm, even better.”

You both laugh and continue eating before you part ways. Harry had taken Andy out for the day, so you were able to slip inside and hide your new things in the back of your closet.

//

“Dad, today was awesome!”

“Yeah, wasn’t too embarrassing going bowling with your old man?”

“No way, we haven’t gone in forever, it was fun. And I broke my high score on the pinball machine.” Andy was biting into a slice of pizza while Harry was sitting across from him smiling, resting his chin in his palm. “It’s kind of like when I used to just see you on the weekends.”

“Yeah, I really was your classic weekend dad, huh?” He chuckles.

“No, weekend dads let you eat candy until your teeth rot out and let you stay up really late. You still made me follow all of Mum’s rules.”

“Because I respect her, and she respects me.” Harry sits up straight. “Listen, there’s something I wanna ask you.”

“What’s up?” Andy wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks at Harry.

“Well…I was chatting with Uncle Niall and Uncle Louis the other day about the wedding. They’re itching to know who my best man is going to be.”

“That’s gotta be hard to choose between the two of them. You guys are like the three musketeers.”

“We are! But my choice is pretty easy because I don’t want it to be either of them. See, there’s this other man in my life I think would make a lot more sense to be my best man.”

“Really, who?” Harry grins at Andy and his eyes widen. “Me?!”

“Yes, you. No one else felt right.”

“So, will my suit be different that the others?”

“Of course.”

“Can I have my nails done the same as you?”

“You really want to?”

“Yeah…I wanna get into painting them more. I think it would be cool if we matched.”

“Definitely.”

“I’m really excited, Dad, thanks…this means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me that you wanna do it. You’re really becoming a nice young man, Andy.”

Andy gets up and hugs his dad. Today was a really good day. He can’t wait to tell you the good news when he gets in.

“Babe! We’re home!” Harry says as him and Andy get inside.

“Well, if it isn’t my two favorite guys.” You smile as you come down from the loft. You kiss Harry’s cheek and give Andy a hug.

“I take it the shopping went well?” Harry asks.

“Very well, so no snooping through my closet.” You say firmly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Y/N, guess what?” Andy says.

“What?”

“I’m gonna be Dad’s best man.” He beams at you.

“That’s amazing!” You hug the both of them again. “It’s all coming together.”

//

“Andy, if you move, I’m gonna mess it up.” You tell him as you paint his nails black. He asks you to leave his pinkies purple.

“Sorry.” He watches you. “You don’t think I’m gonna get made fun of, do you?”

“Lots of guys are painting their nails nowadays. Just look at your dad, no one makes fun of him.”

“Yeah, but he’s big and strong, and could knock someone’s lights out.”

You swallow at that. It was true. Harry was a boxer, and if he really wanted to, he could beat the shit out of someone.

“You know violence isn’t the answer.”

“I know…I’m just not as intimidating as he can be.”

“You have his eyes, you just need to learn how to stare someone down the way he does and you’re golden.” You wink at him and he chuckles. “Are you really nervous about someone making fun of you?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Wearing a bandana or clipping back my hair is one thing, I just don’t wanna come off…girly.”

“I take offense to that. I’m a girl, what’s wrong with looking like me?”

“I guess nothing.”

“I’ll paint mine just like yours, would you like that?”

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N.”

You and Andy had gotten into the habit of nail time. Harry would sometimes join in, which was fun, but it was something the two of you could do together. It was a Sunday evening ritual. Andy’s friends loved the different combinations he would go with. Andy blushed when Brandon held his hand to look over a design you had managed to get on his thumb one day.

Then one day during locker break, Andy was switching some books out that he wouldn’t need for the afternoon. There weren’t a lot of people around.

“Hey, Styles.” A boy, Greg, and some other boys come over to him.

“Oh, hey, Greg.” Greg slams Andy’s locker shit. “Um, I wasn’t finished in there…” He goes to turn his combination but Greg grabs his hand. “You better not have this when basketball season starts back up.”

“What do you care?” Andy yanks his hand away. “Don’t like it, don’t paint your nails.”

Greg looks at his friends and laughs before shoving Andy up against the lockers.

“What are you, a girl now? Is Andy short for Andrea?” Greg smirks.

“Obviously not, you idiot.” Andy huffs. “Let me go, Greg.”

“Make me.” He shoves Andy harder against the lockers. Andy tries to give him his most intimidating gaze, but it’s not doing much for him. “You know what else makes you a girl? You like boys, Andrea.”

“Don’t call me that! And who even told you that?”

“It’s so obvious you have a thing for Brandon. You two are always all over each other.”

“What do you care?!”

“It’s annoying to watch.”

“Hey! Let him go!” Brandon comes racing down the hall and yanks Greg away from Andy. “What is the matter with you?!” He shoves Greg.

“Oh, look, your boyfriend came to your rescue, how nice.”

Before he has a chance to say or do anything, Andy watches as Brandon’s fist connects with Greg’s jaw, causing Greg to fall to the ground.

“Boys! What is going on out here?!” One of the teachers says as she rushes to the scene. “Principal’s office, now!”

Andy and Brandon look at each other, and then make their way down the hall. They sit on a bench outside the principal’s office to wait their turn. Greg had to be brought to the nurse.

“Why did you do that?” Andy whispers.

“He was being an asshole, obviously. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine…he was being really…homophobic…” He shakes his head. “I didn’t think people were still like that.”

“Well, they are, and it’s scary.”

“Maybe I should stop painting my nails.” Andy looks down at his hands.

“No!” Brandon puts his hand over one of Andy’s. “I really like it on you. You rock it. You’re, like, so cool.”

The boys are both called in to give their side of the story, and then Greg is brought it. When they all come out, Andy’s eyes widen when he sees everyone’s parents in the lobby. You, Harry, Paige, and Noah were all trying to keep cool as you chatted with Mr. and Mrs. Stewart. Greg’s father was keeping to himself.

“Andy!” Harry yelps and rushes over to him. “Are you alright?” He puts his hands on Andy to check him over.

“I’m fine, can you stop?”

“Honey, what happened? We got a call that you were in a fight.” Paige says.

“Excuse me.” Principal Morrison comes out of his office. “If all the adults would like to come in.” He sighs. You and Noah start to walk forward. “Just biological parents please.”

“Principal Morrison, that’s my step-dad, and my almost step-mom, they can both go in.” Andy says.

“Andy, it’s fine, we’ll wait out here with you.” You tell him.

Harry nods at you and goes into the office with the other parents.

“Right, well, it seems that Greg picked a fight with Andy, and Brandon stepped in when he saw what was happening. Greg said some hurtful things to Andy.” Principal Morrison explains.

“Like what?” Harry asks.

“Apparently he started calling him Andrea, and was making fun of his nail polish.”

“Well, there you go then.” Mr. Foley, Greg’s father, says.

“Excuse me?” Paige says.

“What’s a boy wearing nail polish for?”

“Um…” Harry holds up his hands. “It’s pretty common, mate.”

“It’s not like Brandon to be violent.” Mrs. Stewart says.

“He seemed to be defending Andy.” Principal Morrison says.

“It’s not common, actually, it’s odd.” Mr. Foley says. “Boys shouldn’t be painting their nails. I see how your boys are at basketball, it’s inappropriate.”

“They’re best friends.” Mr. Stewart says. “They’re close, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“They seem a little too close if you ask me.” Mr. Foley scoffs.

“Well, none of that should be any of your concern.” Harry says. “What my concern is,” he steps forward, “is that you seem to be teaching your son it’s okay to bully other people for being a little outside the box, and it’s borderline homophobic.”

“Maybe don’t raise a homo then.” Mr. Foley says bluntly.

“Gentlemen, please.” Principal Morrison says.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Paige says, also stepping forward.

“I said, don’t raise a homo and my son won’t have a problem.”

“Right, that’s what I thought.” She smirks, and lunges at Mr. Foley. Harry hooks an arm around her waist to hold her back. “You piece of shit, you think you’re this big tough man, teaching such awful values to your kid? You’re a piece of shit, and your son is following suit!” She struggles in Harry’s arms. “How fucking dare you!”

“Paige, settle down.” Harry says and she takes a deep breath as he lets her go. “Clearly Greg instigated things. Andy wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone. He knows how to use his words if he has a problem with someone.”

“Didn’t learn that from his mum now did he?” Mr. Foley smirks.

“Fuck you.” Paige spits.

“What can we do, um, moving forward? Are the boys going to be suspended?” Mrs. Stewart asks.

“Greg will be given in house suspension for instigating, and putt his hands on Andy. Unfortunately, because Brandon did hot Greg, he will be suspended for the rest of the week, and when he returns we have to give him a week of in house suspension.”

“So, even though he was just defending his friend, he’s going to get punished more?” Mr. Stewart asks.

“That’s the policy.” Principal Morrison sighs.

“What about Andy? Who’s to say that little fuck won’t bother him again?” Harry says. “I won’t have my son being afraid to go to school.”

“Andy wasn’t fighting so he won’t have to face suspension. His teachers will be alerted, and an eye will be kept on him. We have a zero tolerance policy for this kind of thing.”

Harry and Paige look at Mr. Foley.

“Tell your son to stay away from ours.” Harry says.

“No problem there. Don’t need any of what Andy’s got going on rubbing off on Greg.” He scoffs. “Are we done here?” He says to Principal Morrison.

“Yes.”

All of the adults leave the room, and everyone waiting looks at them. Mr. Foley grabs Greg’s arm and pulls him out of the room entirely.

“Brandon.” Mr. Stewart sighs. “You’re being suspended for the rest of the week, and then you’re gonna have in house suspension.”

“What?!”

“I know it doesn’t seem fair.” Mrs. Stewart says. “We’re proud of you for standing up for Andy, but you really shouldn’t have hit that boy, okay?”

“I’m really sorry, Brandon.” Andy had tears in his eyes.

“Don’t be.” Brandon says to him. “I’d do it again.”

//

The car ride home was quiet. You and Harry had to cancel the rest of your classes for the day. Paige and Noah were coming back to the house. Everyone sits down at the table when they get inside your home.

“Andy, I’d like to hear the full story, if you feel comfortable.” Paige says, putting her hand over his.

“I was at my locker, minding my own business, when Greg came over and he started up with me. He slammed my locker door shut and shoved me up against it. I told him to stop and he wouldn’t. Then he asked me if I was a girl, and I called him an idiot, and then Brandon ran down the hall and pulled him off of me, and then….ugh, then he called Brandon my boyfriend and that’s when he hit him.” Everyone looks at Andy with sad eyes. “I’m not gonna stop painting my nails, I’m not changing anything. Greg can go fuck himself.” He huffs, and you crack up first laughing, and then everyone else has a chuckle.

“I’m so sorry that happened.” Harry says to him. “Kids your age can be so mean, and he seems to be getting a negative influence from his father.”

“I wanted to slug him.” Paige says. “What a prick.”

“I feel bad that Brandon’s being suspended.” Andy says.

“I know.” Harry sighs. “Something tells me Principal Morrison won’t be putting it on his permanent record, though.”

“Do you all mind if I go lay down? I’m a little tired.”

“Of course, honey.” Paige hugs him and kisses the top of his head.

They all watch as Andy stands up.

“Um…it was nice having all four of you there…thanks.”

“What exactly is going on between him and Brandon?” Paige asks quietly.

“Nothing.” You say. “He would have told me if anything serious happened between them. I think something’s bound to happen at some point. I think they’re both still figuring it out.”

“It’s good Andy has such a good friend in his corner.” Noah says. “Everyone needs someone like that.”

Paige and Noah eventually leave to go be home in time for Rachel. Andy was asleep when they said goodbye. Or he was pretending to be. He was texting Brandon under his covers. He wanted to make sure he was alright.

“Andy?” You coo as you go into his room. “Dad made tacos if you’re hungry for dinner, honey.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sighs and gets up. “Thanks, I’m just gonna wash up.”

You nod and go back out to the kitchen.

“Is he coming out?” Harry asks as he gets everything on the table.

“Yeah.”

Dinner is mostly quiet, but Andy seemed to be doing okay. You and Harry cozy up on the couch with separate books, and Andy comes out.

“Can I watch TV?”

“Sure.” Harry says, handing him the remote.

“Can I…sit between you two?”

“Of course!” You say and scoot away from Harry to make room.

Andy plops down between the two of you, and puts on some show on Cartoon Network. You and Harry keep mindlessly reading. You were half expecting Andy to lay in your lap, but about twenty minutes in you look over and see Harry watching the show with him, his arm around Andy, and Andy’s head nuzzled into his chest. It was so sweet you thought it was going to give you a cavity. Harry was eating it up too. Even though he knew this was a really tough day for Andy, he was happy to be having this moment with him. He knew as Andy got older they would just become fewer and farther between.

“Andy, if you don’t wanna go to school tomorrow, it’s okay to stay home.” Harry says to him.

“It’s okay, I’ll go. I’m not scared.” He yawns. “I’m gonna go read before bed, goodnight.”

“Night.” You say as he walks off. “I hope he’ll be alright.”

“He will be, he’s tough. Come on, we should go to bed too.”

You nod and follow him into your shared bedroom. You both go through your nightly routines and get into bed. He holds onto you a little tighter than he normally does. You knew he had have been worried about Andy, but he was trying to keep it cool for everyone else’s sake.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“How about I be big spoon tonight?”

“Alright.” He rolls over and you wrap yourself around him. He’d never admit it, but he needed this tonight.

//

Harry’s alarm goes off at five in the morning. You groan and roll onto your back to let him get up, only he turns it off and turns on his side to look at you. He reaches to stroke your cheek, and he takes your out stretches hand to his lips. He kisses on your palm and wrist.

“You’ll be miserable if you don’t do your yoga.” You mutter with your eyes closed.

“Don’t feel like it.” He mumbles as he continues to kiss on your hand.

You turn your head and open your eyes to look at him slightly. You move your fingers to his mouth and he sucks on your pinky. A small whimper leaves your lips and that’s when he knows he has you. He lets your pinky go with a pop and shifts under the blankets to get on top of you. You were naked, since that’s how you slept, and he only had boxers on. He mouths at your neck and licks up to your earlobe. He grinds his hard length against your center and he groans.

“Can feel how wet you are already.” He says into your ear. “I wanna fuck you.”

“You do?” You say innocently as he continues to grind himself against you. You move your hips up to meet his and he moans.

“Yes.” He kisses on your chest and sucks on one of your nipples. You push his hair back for him and you bite your bottom lip as you watch. “Can I?”

“Can you what?” You smirk.

“Fuck you. Please? I really want to.”

”Yes, Harry.”

He sighs with relief and rips the blankets away. He gets his boxers off and grabs a condom to roll on. He quickly gets back between your legs and you grind yourself against him.

“Like feeling me between your folds?”

“Yes.” He bites his bottom lip as he slowly pushes inside you. You moan out as he comes down to you, chest to chest. “Love it when you’re like this.” You pant. You move in sync with his thrusts and it has your eyes nearly crossing.

“Love it when you’re so good for me.” He moves to sit up on his knees, and pushes your thighs together. He grunts and his head rolls back. You take great pleasure in watching him lose himself. “You’re so fucking tight, Jesus.”

He lets your legs fall open and grips your sides as he continues to fuck in and out of you. You so a slight glute raise to give him a better angle, and you start rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, Harry.” You groan.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, oh god, shit.”

You both cry out and come at the same time. Your orgasm was so strong it just about brought you to tears. You cling to him as he falls on top of you. Your aftershocks cause you to clench around him a few times, but he continues to stay inside you. He kisses your forehead and you wince as he pulls out.

“Can we cuddle for a bit?” He asks as he throws out the condom.

“Yeah, let me just pee.”

You get up quickly to clean yourself up and then you get back into bed with him. He rests his head on your chest and you scratch his head, running your fingers through his curls.

“I should have Andy stay home today…I know he said he’d go, but…”

“Harry, if he doesn’t go the bullies win. If he really didn’t want to go he would tell us. If he doesn’t go today it’ll just be more difficult to later.”

“I know, you’re right.” He sighs. “I just…I admire him so much. When I was his age I just dressed like everyone else, I never did anything out of the ordinary because I didn’t want to get made fun of. I didn’t become myself until uni. People still gave me looks, but I was old enough not to care. He’s only twelve. He may be brave, but he’s only twelve…I’d hate for any of this to break his spirit.”

“Well, luckily for him he’s got a great dad for a role model. He’s able to be himself because he sees you doing it every day.”

“I…really don’t know what I would do without you sometimes.”

You kiss the top of his head and use your other arm to hug him close to you.

//

Andy was very brave at school. Some of Greg’s friends glared at him, but he had Caroline and Tyler by his side. When Brandon returns to school, and into the actual classroom, Andy feels overjoyed when he sees him sitting in homeroom.

“Hey, B.” He says as he sits down.

“Hey.”

“Did you get all your work? They wouldn’t let me be the one to drop off the worksheets because of Greg.”

“Yeah, I’m all caught up, thanks.” He rests his chin in his palm and puts his other hand over Andy’s. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Andy’s cheeks were on fire.

“Let’s see what we’ve got this week.” He looks at Andy’s nails. “Dark green?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…that’s my favorite color.”

“I know.” Andy smirks, and now it’s Brandon’s cheeks that are on fire. “Are your parents mad at me or anything?”

“What? No, not at all. They were pretty cool about everything, actually.”

“Oh, good…”

“Why?”

“Because, um, when my parents get married, I mean, when my dad and Y/N get married, they said I could invite a friend for the weekend. It’ll be really fun since we’re staying in a hotel suite. We’ll be with my cousins Lizzie and Ritchie.” He swallows. “Would you want to go?”

“Are you serious? Yeah! I’ll ask my parents when I get home. When is it?”

“November sixth.”

“Cool.” Brandon smiles.

“Cool.” Andy smiles back. “My dad asked me to be his best man, too. It’s gonna be awesome.”

“Makes sense since you’re literally the best.”

“Brandon.” Andy giggles as he blushes.

“What?” He giggles too. “It’s true.”

//

“Have loads of fun, babe.”

“I would, but you won’t let go of me.” You chuckle.

This weekend was your bachelorette party, and Harry was hugging you goodbye out at your car, and he hadn’t let you go yet.

“Sorry.” He clears his throat and steps away from you. Then he steps closer to you again to kiss you for the millionth time.

“Har.” You giggle.

“I know, I’m being clingy, I’m sorry. I thought I’d have Andy for the long the weekend…I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with myself.”

“Why don’t you hang out with Andre?”

“Yeah, I might catch a movie with him.”

“Good.” You smile. “I have to go or I’ll be late picking Janette up.”

“Alright.” He kisses you one last time and lets you get into your car.

You pick up Janette and you both squeal as you make the trek down to Boston. You were extremely excited. You’d be sharing a hotel suite with your friends, and the best part was Nora graciously planned the entire thing for you. You couldn’t have asked for a better maid of honor. Next weekend would be your bridal shower, which would be more casual than anything because you and Harry didn’t even put a registry together, you just had a honeymoon fund. You two really didn’t need anything since you were already living in a home together and bought what you needed. So the bridal shower would just be a casual luncheon in the back room of a grill in town.

The second you and Janette get inside the hotel room, Nora starts making frozen margaritas. You look around and see that the theme would be cinco de mayo, very cool. She puts some beads around your neck and hugs you.

“I hope you’re hungry because we’re eating at Fagitas and Ritas tonight.” Darcy says.

“Thank fucking god, I love it there. Everyone, this is Janette.”

“It’s so great to meet you!” Nora says. “Nice to finally meet the work bestie face to face.”

“It’s great to meet you all too. Y/N’s told me wonderful things.”

Janette gets acquainted with Claudia and Mark as well. You weren’t worried about anyone not getting along. Janette reminded you a lot of your friends in general, it’s probably why you clicked with her off the bat.

“Y/N, is Harry doing anything fun this weekend?” Mark asks.

“I’m not sure. He thought he had Andy this weekend, but it’s Paige’s weekend, so he may make plans with his other friends.” You shrug. “He can’t do his bachelor party until right before the wedding when his friends fly in.”

“Paige couldn’t have just switched up the weekends?” Darcy asks.

“She’s supposed to get him for long weekends since Harry has him during the school year. That’s how it used to be when she had him during the school year, so he just wants to do what’s right. He’ll make his own fun, it’ll be fine.”

You all get ready, take a few pictures, and head out. You take the green line to Park Street, and then head down the alley to the restaurant. It was an incredible place. They served liter pitchers of frozen margaritas for groups to share. Your friends would come often, and would get sneaky, often taking an entire liter to the face, and that was the plan for you tonight. You got your tequila lime shrimp tacos, and you all told stories as you downed your drinks. You lean into Nora.

“You’re not taking me to a strip club or anything like that, right? Harry was pretty adamant that he didn’t want me doing that.” You slur.

“No, babe.” She chuckles. “I was thinking a drag show at first, but you always hear about how they can’t stand bridal parties, you know? And then I was thinking of asking Phil and Julian about that gay bar you go to with them, but again I didn’t want to be annoying. We are going to a club for a bit, and we are going to see some men dance, but I wouldn’t call them strippers.”

“Exotic dancers, if you will.” Claudia says. “They stay on the stage the whole time, so you don’t have to worry about a lap dance.”

“And we already took out plenty of cash to throw their way.” Mark says. “I’ve been before, it’s fun.”

“Harry doesn’t need to know.” Janette winks.

“Would you care if he went to a strip club with his friends?” Darcy asks out of curiosity.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “He’s really not the type to ogle women, he’s too shy for that I think. He’s a bit possessive in that I don’t even think he would enjoy going somewhere like that because none of the women would be me, you know?”

“Jesus.” Mark says. “Got yourself a good man, I have to say.”

You all raise your glasses to that, and when you’re done you head out, thankful for the cool October air hitting your skin. You hop back on the T to get to the place Nora had set up reservations for. Watching the men dance made for a lot of squealing and blushing on your part, it was all good fun. They showed a little skin, but weren’t stripping, and they really did stay on the stage.

Four men come out dressed in slacks and cummerbunds. I Wanna Sex You Up begins playing, and the choreography looks oddly familiar. Your jaw drops when it registers.

“Nora, you didn’t.”

“I had to.” She chuckles.

“I’m very confused…” Janette says. “Delighted, but confused.”

“In the first season of Glee a few of the guys get together for an all-male acapella group, and this was a memorable scene for Y/N.” Nora explains. “I requested it in advance, let’s tip well.”

You sway back and forth in your chair and sing along with the song as the men continue to dance essentially for you. You were laughing so hard you were crying by the end of it, and you hug your friend. Once you all have had your fill you head to a club so you all could dance.

Now you really felt like you were in your element. Nora had reserved a VIP sections at one of your favorite clubs so you could all dance freely without bumping into a bunch of sweaty strangers. You were sticking with tequila tonight as to not get sick. You were having loads of fun, but you couldn’t help but wonder what Harry had gotten up to, so you tell your friends you need to use the ladies room quickly. The ladies room in the VIP section was actually clean, you were shocked. You may pee just for the hell of it. You take out your phone and call your fiancé.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, baby!” You slur. “Just checking in, whatcha up to?”

“Well…it’s one in the morning, so I was sleeping.”

Oh, shit, you think to yourself. You hadn’t even checked the time on your phone before you called. Now you felt like a proper dick.

“Shit, Har, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize how late it was, and I was thinking of you, and-“

“Babe, it’s alright.” He chuckles. “I went to a movie with Andre and Sandra and then we went out for drinks and a bite to eat. It was fun.”

“Oh, good! Any plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m hoping to get up and go for a run, and then I’m gonna work on my manuscript. Then I may have dinner with Lisa and her husband, but we’ll see.” He yawns.

“I’m really sorry I woke you…”

“I’ll fall back asleep don’t worry about it. What did you all get into tonight?”

“Drinking, dinner, more drinking, we went to, um, a show, and now we’re drinking more at a club.”

“Ah, so you’re still out?”

“Mhm.”

“Go be with your friends, baby.”

“I know, I just…wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

“Mm, well I’m glad you called, then.”

“I love your sleepy voice.” You pout, not that he can see it.

“Y/N, you’re gonna give me a stiffy if you keep talking like that, so, please, go back out and have fun, yeah?”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You sigh and go back out to continue dancing with your friends. You all get back to the hotel around three in the morning, and everyone crashes. The next day was all about recovering cozily. Room service was ordered and many movies were watched.

“Do you think things will change much once you and Harry are married?” Mark asks as you all do face masks.

“Nah, the biggest change will be going onto the same insurance plan.” You laugh. “We’ll start having kids, I know that much.”

“Do you have any big plans for after you get your doctorate?” Darcy asks.

“Mhm, we’re going to take Andy to Disney World as a combined celebration. Harry’s been dying to take him there for, like, and end of middle school thing, but we really wanna go before we have an infant on our hands, so he’s gonna say it’s for his thirteenth birthday instead.”

“That’s the perfect age to go.” Janette says. “He’ll remember way more, plus I bet he’ll enjoy the alone time with the both of you.”

“He’s gonna be so surprised.” You say. “I love that kid.”

“Any tea to spill about him and his friend?” Claudia asks.

“He hasn’t told me much recently.” You shrug. “Which is perfectly fine. He’s coming to the wedding with him, that I know for sure.”

//

Harry wasn’t home when you got back from your bachelorette weekend, so you take the opportunity to have a long shower and get into some comfy clothes. You hear the front door open and close, and go out to see Harry coming in with Andy.

“Hey, guys!” You say brightly.

“Y/N!” Andy says and comes to give you a hug. “Did you have a good time with your friends?”

“I did, yeah. How was Mum’s?”

“Good, we went shopping for a Halloween costume.”

“And what are you planning to be this year?”

“A rock star, so, so she got me a blow up guitar that has a strap, and I’m gonna wear all black. It’s gonna be sick.” He heads down the hall into his room.

“Is he going trick or treating?” You say as you wrap your arms around Harry’s neck. He hugs you for a moment before giving you a lip smacking kiss.

“Yeah, he’ll go out for a bit with his friends, and then I guess Caroline is having a little party at her house.”

“Oh, my…a boy-girl party, huh?”

“I know.” Harry sighs and grips your hips. “He’ll be picked up at 9:30 and not a moment later.” He kisses you again. “How was your weekend?”

“It was a lot of fun, it was so good to get away with them for a bit. Just another reminder of how excited I am to marry you.”

He squishes his nose to yours before letting you go. The evening is cozy as the three of you decide to play a board game before Andy goes to bed. It was an incredible game of Scrabble. Harry tugs you into your bedroom about twenty minutes later, and gets you undressed. You giggle as he kisses on you. You shift to get on top of him, and you pin his wrists to the pillows. You suck on his bottom lip and he groans before you lick into his mouth.

“God, I wanted you so bad this weekend.” You say to him as you kiss down his body. “Miss me?”

“Course I did.” He holds your hair back as you wrap your lips around his throbbing dick. His breath hitches as he feels your tongue run over his slit. “Fuck.” He breathes.

You bob up and down on him for a bit before he has you on your stomach. He pulls your hips back and starts fingering you from behind. You clutch at the pillows. You feel him open your cheeks up and his free thumb starts rubbing on your other hole. He hadn’t done this in a while, you almost forgot how good it felt.

“Shit, Harry.”

“Like that?”

“Feels so good.”

He was knuckle deep inside you, petting against your g-spot, and he gradually starts to work his thumb inside you. You gasp, but let him continue. You suddenly feel…full! It was sending you. You fuck yourself on his fingers while he continues to work his thumb into you.

“Alright? Still feels good?” He grunts. His tip was leaking just watching you.

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop.” You moan out into the pillows so you’re not too loud. You completely lose it around his fingers, and he gives you a moment before retracting himself. You wince a little when you feel his thumb leave you. You stay in position for him while he rolls a condom on.

“You good like that, babe? Your knees don’t hurt?”

“No, I’m good, please, give it to me like this.”

He nods and leans down to kiss you before getting back behind you. He grips your hips and pushes his thick tip inside you. Your back arches once he bottoms out. His pace is slow at first, wanting to ease in and out of you. You start moving on and off him at your own pace.

“Impatient.” He grunts as he lets you use him.

“You weren’t going fast enough.”

“So just tell me to go faster.”

“Thought you liked it when I used you.” You smirk at him over your shoulder and he bites his bottom lip.

“Will you get on top?”

“Yeah.”

He pulls out of you and gets on his back. You swing your leg over and sink down on him. You pin his wrists against the pillows again, and bring yourself down chest to chest. You lick into his mouth as you move on and off his hard dick. Your fingers intertwine and he squeezes your hands.

“Let me rub your clit.” He groans.

“Ask nicely.”

“Can I rub your clit?”

“Yes.”

You let go of one of his hands, and he snakes it between the two of you. You gasp into his mouth as he rubs circles into you. Sweat pools between your bellies, and you both lose it. You rest on top of him for a few moments before getting off. Once you’re both cleaned up you snuggle up to him in bed and lay your head on his chest.

“Slept like shit without you, if I’m being honest.” You tell him and kiss on his tattooed collar bones.

“I had to use my body pillow for the first time in forever.”

“I wrapped myself up in my little blanket burrito like I used to, but it just wasn’t the same. I enjoy your heavy body way more.”

“I’m always afraid I’m gonna crush you.” He chuckles.

“Oh, like when you lay fully on top of me? I fucking love that.” You smirk and he shakes his head.

“You’re suck a little freak.”

“Yeah, but I’m your freak.” You kiss his cheek. “I’m also not the one that enjoys giving people rim jobs, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I didn’t even do that tonight!”

“You still got in there.”

“And you liked it, so don’t kinkshame me.”

“I’m not! I like that you’re a little kinky.” You giggle.

“Just so you know, I don’t do that with just anyone…” He mutters.

“Aw, well don’t I feel special.” You say sarcastically. “It’s so good to know you’ve only had your tongue up a few people’s asses.” He blinks at you and you start laughing. “Chill, I’m just teasing.” You peck his lips and turn over, and he turns with you to wrap himself around you.

“You’re lucky I think you’re incredibly cute, you know that?”

//

Trick or treating was fun, but short lived. Andy his friends hit up the houses they knew that had the best candy, and then made their way to Caroline’s. You and Harry were at a Halloween themed game night at Mateo’s. Caroline’s house had a finished basement, so it was the perfect spot for a little party. Most of Andy’s homeroom was there. Her sister’s had helped set up donuts on strings for a little contest. There was music playing, and everyone was having a good time. There was even a wall with decorations for people to take pictures. Andy takes plenty with his friends.

Once Caroline’s sisters go upstairs, the kids all get into a game of truth or dare. They all sit in a circle on the floor, and put a bottle in the middle. The dares were lighthearted at first, someone had to cluck like a chicken, someone had to chug a can of soda, someone had to see how many marshmallows they could fit into their mouth, normal kid stuff. Then it got a little more serious. Some were daring others to go into the closet for seven minutes, others had to admit to having crushes.

“Okay, Brandon…” A girl named Maggie says, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He shrugs.

“Alright, I dare you to go into the closet with Andy for seven minutes.”

Andy nearly chokes on his drink, and looks wide eyed at Brandon.

“What exactly do you want us to do in there?” Brandon asks.

“Doesn’t matter, whatever happens is between you two.” She shrugs.

It wasn’t like they were the only same sex people to be asked to go into the closet. Some kids were out already, but things weren’t as obvious for Brandon and Andy.

“Do you want to?” Brandon asks him.

“I guess.”

They both get up, and go into the closet. Someone starts a timer for seven minutes. Andy leans against one of the walls of the closet. It was roomy.

“It’s too dark in here.” Brandon says as he turns the flashlight of his phone on. He sets it on the floor so it’s not blinding. “There we go, now I can see you.” Andy gives him a small smile. “Have I told you how cool your costume is?”

“Thanks, my mum helped me put it together. Although, Y/N helped with the eye liner.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I like yours too.”

“I don’t know, I thought it was kind of lame.” He chuckles. “A baseball player isn’t exactly original, but my mom wanted to make sure I was wearing pants.” He sighs.

“I know! Parents are always so worried about us being cold. It’s not like we were out that long.”

“Hey, remember when we were thing one and thing two in elementary school? We had to meet up like every weekend to make sure everything matched!”

“Yeah! I’m so glad we don’t have to do that anymore.” Andy stands up straight. “How long do you think it’s been?”

“Just a couple minutes.”

“This is such a weird dare…feel like I’m in an eighties movie.” Andy scoffs.

“I know, it feels like a force.” He sighs. “M’not gonna kiss you in a closet. That’s just what everyone wants. Then we’d have to walk out of here all awkward.”

“I don’t want you to kiss me in here either.” Andy chews his bottom lip. “But I do want you to kiss me, Brandon, really bad.” So many things had been left unsaid between them, and this was the first time Andy really said it to his friend.

“Maybe we can find somewhere else to go, somewhere less obvious.”

Andy nods, and the door opens. A few people frown as they can tell nothing happened between the two. It was getting closer to 9:30, and neither Andy nor Brandon wanted to get interrupted by a call from a parent again. Brandon watches as Andy goes over to Caroline.

“Is there somewhere private he and I can go?”

“Weren’t you two just alone?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but it would have been so obvious…”

Caroline looks around. She thinks to tell them to go to the bathroom, but that would be obvious too. Her basement was a walkout, and the outside portion had been screened in for bugs. They could go out there for a few minutes. They could just say they’re getting some air.

“Go outside for a few minutes.” She nods over to the sliding door. “I’ll standby to keep watch.”

“You’re the best.”

Andy and Brandon go outside unnoticed by anyone else.

“You’re okay out here…like this?” Brandon asks.

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath. “I need to know something before we do this, though…I mean, how do you feel about me? Because I like you, Brandon, like really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know when it started exactly. I just know that I do.”

Andy smiles at him and backs up to the siding of the house as Brandon walks towards him. Andy reaches up and turns Brandon’s baseball cap around so it wouldn’t get in the way. They both chuckle out of nerves. Brandon cups one of Andy’s cheeks and leans in.

“You’re sure?” Brandon asks.

“Yes.” He breathes.

Andy closes his eyes, and braces himself. Brandon’s lips press against his. The first thing he notices is how soft Brandon’s lips are, but he wasn’t surprised because he was always using chapstick. The second thing he notices is how he feels warm all over. He had butterflies in his stomach, but they were the good kind. He reaches up to cup one of Brandon’s cheeks so he won’t pull away. They stay like that for a few moment, kissing innocently. Brandon pulls away to get some air and presses his forehead to Andy’s.

“How was that for a first kiss?” Brandon looks at him.

“B-better than I ever imagined.” He tugs on Brandon’s jersey to pull him back in and they kiss once more. They both giggle afterwards. “H-how was I?”

“Best kiss I’ve ever had.”

“Jesus.” Andy blushes. “We, um, we should keep this quiet until after the wedding. If we say anything to our parents they may not let us share a hotel room or they might add more rules or something.”

“Shit, you’re right…yeah, let’s keep it to ourselves for now. I…I mean, I don’t even know what this all means, like, are we gay?”

“Well…you could be, but I like boys and girls.” It was wild how easily he was just able to admit it. “It’s called bi, or whatever, so that’s what I think I am. Does it matter? I like you and you like me, that’s it.”

“Right, that’s all that really matters.” Brandon smiles.

Andy feels his phone buzz in his pocket, and he takes it out to see that Harry texted he was out front.

“I have to go, my parents are here.”

“Okay.”

The boys hug and then kiss one more time before going inside. Andy and Caroline share a knowing look, and then he makes the rounds saying goodbye. He heads upstairs and thanks Caroline’s sisters for having him, and then goes outside with all his candy. Harry would need to inspect it when they got home. He climbs into the backseat of the car. You were in a giggly mood from the wine you had drank at game night.

“Andy! How was the party?” You ask him as you turn around slightly to make eye contact.

“Oh, um, it was good, really, really good.”

[olivemac]

heartbeat | chapter one | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | mild angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence , smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | mild angst

master list | AO3 link

_____

"You have a lead on Bucky already?" Sam asks, climbing into the passenger side of Steve's car. It's only been a few days since Natasha gave Steve the folder containing information on Bucky Barnes's Winter Soldier transformation.

"Not exactly," Steve says, "But I know someone who might be able to help. We're going to New York."

"So, who's this mystery informant?"

"Kate Stark."

"Stark? As in Tony Stark?" Sam pushes, looking at Steve incredulously.

Steve nods, "Tony's younger sister. She's supposed to be some genius hacker and pretty good at tracking people. Nat says we can trust her."

"And you think Tony will be on board with this?"

"No, but from what Nat said, Kate won't have a problem keeping a few things from Tony."

_____

When they pull up in front of a brick townhouse in Tribeca, Sam whistles.

"I'm pretty sure Taylor Swift lives in this neighborhood," he says.

"I actually know who that is," Steve replies, climbing the steps to the front door, and Sam laughs.

Steve met Kate Stark following Loki's attack on New York, and the only thing he's certain of when it came to her is she is somehow both exactly the same as and vastly different from her older brother. She's quiet, a little aloof, and lacks Tony's easy charisma, but the Stark charm isn't completely lost on her and neither is Tony's sarcasm. Steve sees more of Kate's father, Howard, in Tony, but she shares their cockiness. Tony describes her as "too smart for her own good" and "prone to bouts of Millennial ennui" (always said with an eyeroll). She works for her brother at Stark Industries - mostly so he can keep an eye on her - but Nat told Steve that before SHIELD imploded, Nick Fury had been trying to recruit her for years.

"Captain America," Kate says with a smile, answering the door, "Natasha said you'd be dropping by."

Steve returns her smile.

"Come in," she says, opening the door further and ushering the two men inside.

She leads them to a small, dark study just off the entryway. Three walls feature floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, crammed with books, wrapping around the doorway and picture window. The final wall is covered in computer monitors. It makes for quite the contrast, and Steve has the feeling this room is a perfect reflection of Kate herself – both modern and old-fashioned, connected and cloistered.

"Kate Stark, Sam Wilson. Sam, Kate," Steve introduces, then continues, "Nat said you could help us find Bucky."

Kate nods once, "She filled me in on the details, sent me a somewhat redacted copy of the Winter Soldier file. But I can't make any promises. He's a trained assassin; he knows how to avoid detection. But I'll direct some Stark tech toward it, see what I can do. Tony doesn't need to know."

"Thank you," Steve says, "We should get going."

She shakes her head, "You drove all this way, stay for lunch. Do you like Thai?"

"Yes," Sam interjects before Steve can turn her down. He didn't sit in the car for four hours to have them turn right back around again.

"Brilliant. I'll order."

When the kitchen table is sprawled with empty takeout containers and Kate has pressed Steve for as much information on Bucky that wasn't in the file as he was willing to give and then pressed both Sam and Steve for a full play-by-play on their takedown of HYDRA, she shows them out.

"Thanks for lunch," Sam says.

"And thanks for your help, Kate," Steve echoes.

"Of course. I'll let you know if I find anything," she says, smiling.

Then she closes the door, locks herself in her study, and gets to work.

_____

"You found something?" Steve asks, looking at the wall of monitors in Kate's study. Each screen displays a continuous scroll of faces from CCTV footage around the globe. Kate's trying out her latest upgrades to Stark Industries' facial recognition software in her bid to find Bucky.

It’s been more than eight months since Steve asked for her help, and she’s finally had a minor success.

"Yes and no," she says, directing his attention to one screen, "I got a hit in Kiev last week, but I haven't gotten anything since." She pulls up a grainy CCTV photo of a man with long, dark hair and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. "My software is telling there's a 99.999% match, but since he hasn't shown up anywhere else in the city, I think he's moved on."

Steve sighs, "At least we have confirmation he's alive." He scrubs a hand over his face and continues, "He pulled me from the river, I know he did. And he wouldn't have done that if he didn't remember me."

"I'll keep looking," Kate says, "Now that my software has spotted him once, he should be easier to find."

_____

He wasn't easier to find.

Another eight months pass without a single lead in her hunt for Bucky. Kate is caught somewhere between obsession and despair. She flips through his HYDRA file obsessively. She stares at his military photo for hours, trying to reconcile the man with the soft eyes and smug smile with the horrors of the Winter Soldier. She reads books on Captain America and the Howling Commandos, and her stomach cramps at the thought of telling Steve she can't find his best friend.

In a bid to distract herself from what she considers her failure, she throws herself into her work at Stark Industries. Tony would be delighted if he weren’t facing his own regrets and heartbreak following Sokovia.

She leaves her software running 24/7 but stops checking it so frequently. She's practically avoiding her study and that wall of monitors that remind her that she hasn't succeeded in finding Bucky yet. She's set up a workstation at her kitchen table and run through the new updates for FRIDAY three times already when she hears the faint beep of her software finding a match. Her breath stalls.

Kate thinks about ignoring it. If she ignores it, she can't be disappointed when it turns out her software is wrong.

But she can't ignore it.

The beeping grows louder as she makes her way to her study, a mixture of hope and dread forming in her chest. She opens the door and flips on the light; and there he is on her monitor: Bucky Barnes.

_____

next chapter

_____

A/N | It's been quite some time since I've written anything creatively so let me know what you think. Just trying to flex that writing muscle again.

[what-a-treat-nz]

World Book Challenge: China

Officially, the People's Republic of China (PRC). It is the world's most populous country, with a population of around 1.4 billion. It covers approximately 9.6 million square kilometers, and is officially divided into 23 provinces, five autonomous regions, four direct-controlled municipalities (Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai, and Chongqing), and the special administrative regions of Hong Kong and Macau.

The areas in dark green are under direct Chinese control; the areas in light green (Tibet and Taiwan) are contested. For the purposes of this challenge, I’m treating China, Tibet and Taiwan as three separate countries. Because I can.

Number of Chinese people in New Zealand: As of the 2013 Census, there were 163,104 people of “Chinese (not further defined)” ethnicity in New Zealand - 10,008 of those were in Wellington City.

Have I been there? Yes! I visited Shanghai with my Dad in December 2011. I bought a really nice coat, had tea that tasted like warm Fanta (it was oddly addictive), and got hugged by Dave Grohl. So, the usual Chinese experiences, really.

I also had Peking Duck for the first time in my life, and holy hell I didn’t know what I was missing. I’ve tried to make up for it by eating copious amounts of it since.

The books

For “China” on my reading challenge, I read three fantasy novels - Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, and the final two books of the Poppy War trilogy (The Dragon Republic and The Burning God) by R. F. Kuang, a Chinese-American author.

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (魔道祖师 / Mó Dào Zǔ Shī)

(Book 30 of 2021)

Given the fact that I have an entire subsection of my blog about how much I love the live-action TV show based on this book, it probably shouldn’t be a surprise that I had Mó Dào Zǔ Shī at the top of my list of Chinese books to read.

Mó Dào Zǔ Shī tells the story of Wei Wuxian, a loathed cultivator of dark and demonic arts who resurrects 16 years after his tragic death. His return to the world brings him to reunite with the people in his first life, including his soulmate, the honored Lan Wangji (who mourned him for 16 years, during which he branded himself with the same mark as Wei Wuxian and kept his memory alive and I’m okay, I promise). Wei Wuxian then begins to remember his time before his demise 16 years ago, from his beginnings as a young cultivator to his descent to dark magic. Together, they solve a mystery linked to a dark tragedy from Wei Wuxian’s first life, then live happily ever after.

This novel was originally published on the Chinese web novel site JJWXC from October 31, 2015 - March 1, 2016, with additional side stories that continue to be released sporadically. The revised version of the main story was later published online until September 7, 2016. A paperback version was released on December 12, 2016, with a total of four volumes in traditional Chinese. The first of three planned volumes in simplified Chinese, titled Wuji, was released in 2018, but release of the following installments has stalled after the locking of the novel on JJWXC since January 2019.

Mó Dào Zǔ Shī isn’t officially available in English, and given that it depicts an explicit danmei relationship between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, I don’t think we’ll ever see an official version. Though there are official translations into Korean, Thai, Vietnamese, Russian, Japanese, and Burmese, and the tour for the TV traveled to Toronto, Los Angeles and New York, so maybe one day there will be an official translation.

For now though, you can read the entire novel for free at Exiled Rebels Scanlations, where it has been translated in full by a then-highschooler called “K-san”. It’s hard to actually judge the merits of the writing of the original novel, given I was reading an unofficial translation, but that was actually half of the sweetness of it. It was kinda rough - K-san tweaked the terms they used as they gained more confidence with the translation, and I enjoyed reading the translator and editor notes that accompanied most chapters - especially notes such as “we’re translating as fast as we can, stop asking for faster updates!”. It felt really organic and friendly, and the story is good (though much gorier than the TV show and good god boys, learn what lube is, it’ll make your lives better I promise).

I read the book more as a companion to the TV show though, rather than a novel on it’s own merits, so I’m not sure I can judge it as a novel on it’s own merits. Though the book did teach me one very important piece of information: Lan Wangji canonically smells of sandalwood.

Would I read it again? If an official English translation comes out, I’d probably read that. I’m more likely to watch the TV show again, or dive into one of the sesquillion Untamed fanfics on AO3 ( Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn was the most popular ship on AO3 in 2020, with 12,878 new works about these characters being published that year).

The Dragon Republic and The Burning God

(Books 34 and 35 of 2021)

I read The Poppy War and The Dragon Republic back in September 2019 (when I wasn’t counting how many books I was reading, but I did have a record of them), and I decided to re-read The Dragon Republic because I couldn’t exactly remember where the story was up to.

And it’s a good thing I did, as something I thought happened at the end of The Dragon Republic actually happened at the end of The Poppy War, so oops?

The Poppy War trilogy is a grimdark fantasy novel set in fantasy China, with a Chinese protagonist and written by a Chinese-American author. It’s spectacular. The trilogy draws its plot and politics from mid-20th-century China, though it’s atmosphere is more inspired by the Song dynasty. The conflict in the first book is based on the Second Sino-Japanese War (though this time, it’s the Chinese empire against the Japanese empire), in the second on the start of the Chinese civil war (Chinese empire against nascent Republican movement), and in the third on the end of Chinese civil war (Republicans versus not-Republicans).

It’s a massive trilogy. It’s incredibly complex, with a huge scale and massive numbers of characters, though the fact it’s all seen through Rin’s eyes (with the occasional first and last chapter from the point of view of other characters) helps.

The story follows that of Fang Runin, better known as Rin, a poor war orphan in southern Nikara who trains in secret to test into the elite Sinegard Academy. Throughout the trilogy she deals with racism, sexism, elitism...most of the isms, really. Author R.F. Kuang said that Rin's life is meant to parallel the trajectory of Mao Zedong, and I had fun trying to match events in Chinese history to the events in the book (the easiest ones to spot are the Rape of Nanjing, the nuclear bombing of Japan and the Long March).

I don’t remember Mao Zedong having the power to call on a fire god, however. It’s probably a good thing that’s not something that happened in real life China, as Mao’s policies killed enough people without him literally being able to spit fire.

I described the first book as “If Kvothe from The Name of the Wind was female, Chinese, and allowed to say fuck.” Those two books felt really similar to me - they’re very much your “outsider is accepted to elite academy, winds up pissing off most of their classmates and chooses an obscure major to specialise in before being thrown into a conflict they are key to winning.” But honestly, I preferred the Poppy War trilogy, even if the final book did get super dark.

Rin is a really refreshing character, and the world seen through her eyes is a very different place to one I’m used to reading about. Kuang said that she "chose to write a fantasy reinterpretation of China's twentieth century, because that was the kind of story I wasn't finding on bookshelves", and I’m so glad she did. The world needs more books like this. I’m as pasty and as white as they come, and I loved reading a book where the heroine was authentically Chinese. This isn’t a pakeha author trying to fit themselves into someone else’s shoes - this is someone with a deep understanding of Chinese military history and collective trauma using that understanding and pain to build a new fantasy world.

I loved it, and if you can stomach war scenes, I recommend this trilogy.

Will I read the Poppy War trilogy again? I might do. It’s a bit darker and more desperate than I usually read - particularly The Burning God - but I did enjoy them. So that’s a firm “never say never”.

Bonus book! 

These Violent Delights

I read NZ-Chinese author Chloe Gong’s These Violent Delights earlier this year (book number 20 of 2021), before I set myself this challenge, so it doesn’t technically count as an entry for “China” in my book challenge. But it is amazing, and I love it, so I wanted to give it a quick shout out here (because if we’re talking fantasy reimaginings of Chinese 20th century history by Chinese diaspora authors...).

These Violent Delights relocates the story of Romeo and Juliet to 1920s Shanghai, casting the two leads as the heirs to rival gangs. It’s brilliant, it’s beautiful, there were sentences that made me stop and gasp for the sheer delight of having read them, and there’s a monster made of bugs driving the citizens of Shanghai insane. The way Gong has woven the characters from the play into their 1920s counterparts is delightful (I say this as someone who’s never actually read the play, though I think I saw the Leonardo DiCaprio movie because it was difficult to be a tween in the late 90s and not be exposed to his films).

15/10, would definitely read it again, it’s been on the New York Times bestseller list for weeks for a very, very good reason. Stop reading this blog and go get a copy. Now.

The feast

I admit, using China as my first country may have been a bit of a cop out, given my familiarity with Chinese food - though, living in a Western country, I’ve probably eaten more Westernised Chinese food than authentic Chinese food.

Which is why I was chuffed to learn that spring rolls are, actually, authentic Chinese food. I always thought they were a Westernisation, like sweet and sour pork or fortune cookies.

For my Chinese feast, I turned to The Woks of Life, a delightful Chinese cooking blog that I can’t open without being inspired to cook like 9 million things.

When I started this project, I originally was only going to cook one dish from each country. I figured I’d go easy on myself for China, and make 花生酥 (hua sheng su), a traditional sesame peanut brittle.

It’s something I’ve made before - I make little bags of it for my colleagues each lunar new year.

I don’t follow the Woks of Life recipe exactly - for example, I’ve never once roasted and shelled my own peanuts. I tend to use a mix of blanched and pre-roasted peanuts in my 花生酥, and I think it comes out okay. Next time I’m going to increase the amount of sugar I use - I find that 270g of rock sugar is not quite enough to cover the peanuts totally. Which is a pain. Next time I think I’ll use 300g, and turn the heating on in my kitchen so it’s warmer, to stop the brittle from hardening before I can properly get it into the tray to cool.

But then I changed my mind, and decided to throw a full on feast.

For the feast I threw, I made two more dishes from the Woks of Life - Easy Peking Duck with Mandarin Pancakes, and 年糕 (nian gao), or stir-fried rice cakes (though I did them with chicken, not pork, as that’s what I had in my freezer). I also cooked up some spring rolls, as I had them leftover in my freezer from my housewarming (for which I over catered, because I cannot do anything but over cater any event I throw). I should have marinated the duck longer. That one was on me.

I also made some 核桃酥 (he tao su), walnut cookies, which were delicious and I definitely want to make again. I think I’ll add some hazelnuts in as well for additional crunch, and make them slightly smaller - they were 12 very big cookies.

But delicious cookies.

Kisu was most distressed that we did not feed her anything from this feast.

The Playlist

I ended up finding this “Chinese Indie & Rock” playlist on Spotify, which I really enjoyed. I could understand none of the songs, but I enjoyed the heck out of a lot of them. I’ll probably keep listening to this playlist - they were definitely my sort of jams.

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.06

Read Ahead | Read From Start | Home Site

Linden leaned back on the rail of the platform that was Nairi’s front stoop. “So, I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that as a non-drinker who’s both new in town and doesn’t get out much you probably haven’t been down to a place called Mustang’s?”

“That would be a pretty good guess,” said Nairi, stepping out to join her and locking up.

Linden nodded swinging round to head down the stairs. “I’ve walked past it like a thousand times, easy to walk to,” she said confidently.

Then why had she taken Nairi up on the offer of meeting here? “Okay,” she said, following her down the stairs. “Looks good?”

“Yeah,” said Linden, pausing to wait for Nairi to fall into step with her before starting to walk. “By which I mean it looks like a total hole in the wall.”

Nairi laughed quietly and Linden shot her a wide grin in return. “You like a little bit of a dump, huh?”

Linden bumped her shoulder, still grinning, and her nodding made her hair toss about a little. “Cheap spirits, beer that doesn’t need decoding, and everyone minds their own damn business. Except when they don’t, and then it’s way more interesting as well.”

“More interesting than a fancy bar or club?” said Nairi, feeling weirdly self-conscious of the fact that she wore the same clothes all the time and never did anything with her hair. The fixedness of the smile on her face felt kind of weird too, but Linden seemed to like it.

“Oh, I love clubs,” said Linden, laughing. “Not a fan of fancy bars, though I do like interesting bars, and the occasional nice one. You definitely don’t strike me as a ‘clubs’ girl, though.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” said Nairi, tilting her head a little to meet Linden’s eyes better. “I don’t strike you as a ‘nice bar’ girl either?”

Linden’s smile widened. “I only go to one nice bar and it’s where all my friends hang out. I don’t want to scare you off; they’re about as loud as I am. Or maybe I just don’t want to share you yet.”

Nairi tried to imagine a bar full of Lindens and fell short. “I was just going to say that you might not be wrong about that, too,” she said instead.

“Really?” said Linden, arching an eyebrow at her. “You’re civil, you scrub up nicely, and you have money. The perfect gentlelady, I’d say you’re definitely a ‘nice bar’ kinda girl.”

If that was the case, then Nairi had come a very long way. Linden had a tendency towards the… startlingly optimistic, however. “Well, I’ve always been more for the holes in the wall. Historically, in any case. I don’t know if I scrub up good enough for nice bars just yet.”

Linden laughed quietly again, nodding. “Oh, I get that. I didn’t really go to nice bars til I uh, developed a little more. Took a little while for the hormones to kick in there, wasn’t always comfy.”

Nairi tried not to think too hard about how to respond, and aimed for the casualness Linden seemed to appreciate more. “What, too scrawny to punch a guy in the head?”

Linden’s laugh was kind of gratified this time. “Hah, yeah, exactly. Got over myself and ended up in some nice bars though.”

She winked as she said it, and Nairi’s mouth twitched. “Well, maybe you’ll rub off on me, then.”

The bar ended up being about a half-hour walk, which, depending on how much Linden had to drink, probably wasn’t long enough to make Nairi regret not taking the car. That and the street parking options looked limited, and her car was both bright white and expensive looking enough that it’d be noticeably out of place, so it’d probably weigh out even if Linden blacked out.

No one looked up when they walked in and Linden nodded approvingly as she looked around. “Hell yes,” she said, shrugging her jacket off. “Bar seat or corner?”

“Corner,” said Nairi immediately.

“Cool,” said Linden, tugging her wallet out of her back pocket and handing the jacket to Nairi. “Do you want like a coke or something?”

“Sure,” said Nairi with a shrug, and as Linden headed to the bar, she made a beeline for the table in the back, dropping their jackets on the second chair before taking the seat against the wall. She met the eye of a guy briefly as she glanced around the room, but it was the cursory pass of someone checking her out, and it shifted from her as her eyes moved before swapping to Linden as she crossed the room with their drinks.

Linden didn’t appear to notice the attention, sitting down across from Nairi with a wide smile as she passed the bottle of coke across the table. She leaned back with her pint of beer, feet nudging up against Nairi’s. Nairi shuffled her feet back obligingly, unscrewing the bottle with a muttered thanks.

There was a quiet moment while Linden sipped on her beer, eyes steady on Nairi’s face. Was she supposed to say something else? Start the conversation? She took a sip of coke to avoid it, trying to remember the last time she’d just, gone to a bar with someone. It felt like years—she’d usually done it after a job, used it to wind down before she fucked off and got high.

She swallowed her coke, suddenly feeling more in the mood for conversation.

“So, how’s the painting?” she asked, feeling stupid for saying it even as the words left her mouth.

Linden’s eyes brightened and she leaned in, face animated. “Really well, actually. I had a bad batch of linseed oil last week—totally fucked up a project I’ve been working on, but then I got ticked off and painted something that looks kind of, like, really great? I’ve been checking in on it and I’ll be able to go in with the fine details tomorrow, I’m feeling really positive about this one.”

“That’s great,” said Nairi blankly, nodding. “What’s it of?”

Linden laughed, took a long sip of her beer, and set it down, scooting her chair forward. “Okay, so there’s this guy—”

Linden liked talking about art. By the time she was done explaining the rough career history of some guy who was apparently an anarchist who painted (and might also have been a professor?), she’d also managed to take a fifteen-minute detour to summarise the debate of synthetic versus natural fibre brushes and if it really mattered, and finished her drink, and Nairi still had no idea what she was painting. Her eyes were bright, cheeks pinked, and she laughed again as she picked up her empty glass, grinning ruefully across at Nairi.

She swung her legs out, standing up again. “I’m grabbing another drink, are you still going or d’you want another?”

“Still going,” said Nairi, holding up her coke bottle and swirling the last mouthful around the bottom for her with a small smile. “I’ll grab the next round?”

“Sure thing,” said Linden, her eyes crinkling, and she bit her lip before pushing away from the table and heading back over to the bar.

The two guys at the next table had finished their drinks as well, one of them peeling off to the bathrooms on the other side of the room, and the other coming up behind Linden as she walked towards the bar. Linden didn’t seem concerned, but Nairi kept her eye on him, just in case.

She finished her coke and screwed the lid back on, scanning the main room with a little more attention. Aside from the two guys sitting near them (one in the bathroom, other chatting up Linden at the bar) there was also a small group at the corner by the beer taps watching the TV (four of them, two sitting together, and one frowning at the horses racing on screen), and a table of college kids in the middle of the room (one who’s skin looked faintly blue under the light). The other half of the bar was darker, a little more cramped, and she turned her attention back to Linden at the bar.

The bathroom door swung open across the room as the guy next to Linden clasped a hand on her shoulder. Linden’s smile looked a little sharp, or maybe there was a set to her jaw, but she was halfway across the room, and Nairi couldn’t tell for sure. The seat to her left scraped against the floor as it was pulled out and the second guy sat down.

“Hey,” he said, smiling at her with bright teeth in a way that might have been charming if Nairi A) couldn’t smell the whiskey and urine on him; or B) found men charming, ever. His hands were braced on the back of Linden’s chair, leaning in towards Nairi a little with an interested expression. “You and your friend out on your own tonight?”

Nairi’s hands automatically came together in front of her chest, clasping the top of her coke bottle. “Yeah,” she said casually, her eyes flicking over his face, down to his chest and back up again, the movement of his muscles imperceptible thanks to the dim lighting and the hang of his shirt. “Just grabbing a drink.”

His smile widened, nodding at her. “Can we buy you girls your next round?”

There was a loud “Hey!” from the bar and they both looked up. Linden was scowling at the guy’s friend, who was standing firmly in her personal space, and one of the glasses had been knocked over, beer dripping from the surface of the bar onto the floor.

Nairi made to stand up and the guy next to her put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, no, it’s okay,” he started to say and Nairi knocked his hand away automatically, hand returning to her sternum.

“Don’t touch me,” she said sharply, tensing.

Glass broke across the room. His head spun to see his friend rearing back and clutching his face, Linden with a broken pint in hand and a deep scowl and he started up out of his seat, tone sharpening. “Hey what the fu—”

Nairi reacted without too much thought going into it. She lashed out with the base of her left hand, striking him in the sternum and using the movement to push herself upright and out of her seat. He cringed from the blow as her right hand came up and she smashed the base of the plastic bottle into the bridge of his nose. The plastic collapsed into itself with the force, making a crackling noise that Nairi knew from experience drowned out literally everything else when it was happening on your skull.

He yelped again, jerking back and stumbling, and Nairi hit him with the bottle overhand again to get him out of the way, before swivelling to focus back on the bar, all her senses screaming to alert. Despite the relatively small crowd the room was practically a hive of activity as people yelled and got up, converging and sprinting out or around. A small part of Nairi’s brain checked that she was still breathing evenly, and she started across the bar towards Linden, who was being held in an armlock. “Hey!” she yelled, “Let her go!”

One of the TV watchers from the corner tried to intercept her, throwing a haymaker towards her head. She swung her arm up to block it, shifting her weight to face him as she brought her hands back to guard. “You don’t have to—” she started.

“Bitch!” he snapped, coming in low with another, uncoordinated punch. Nairi swung her arm to block it again, but this time twisted as she went, grabbing his forearm and yanking hard. He stumbled forward, off balance, and Nairi pinned his arm to her chest, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him forward again to slam her knee into his chest.

She dropped him as he wheezed, breathless, and something flashed in her peripheral vision. She grabbed the chair as she turned on an instinct older than any kind of training, and she brought it up and around, lashing out with the movement of her body. It hit one of the TV watcher’s friends in the shoulder solidly and he jerked back, arm coming up to shield his head. She followed through with a thigh kick as she dropped the chair, and he got out of her way.

A fist bounced off the side of her arm as she advanced and she jabbed out into the punch-thrower’s nose, stepping past them and making a beeline for Linden’s red hair as best she could.

To her credit, Linden had pretty much been holding her own. The guy she’d glassed wasn’t near her anymore, though she was missing her jacket, and her shoulder had been sliced open, blood trickling down her arm as she faced one of the college kids head on. She didn’t bother with anything dramatic, kicking him solidly in the groin with a loud exclamation of “Mother-fucker!” that dropped unexpectedly in register on the back half before rounding on Nairi with her fist raised high behind her head.

The college kid dropped with a squeak, and Linden grinned once she realised Nairi was in front of her, dropping her fist.

“You punch like shit!” said Nairi loudly, and Linden cackled.

A guy grabbed onto Linden’s back, bouncing her head into the wood of the bar as her arms flailed, foot sliding on the floor beneath her.

Nairi lunged at him, grabbing the back of his shirt and slamming her knee up into his kidney as she yanked him off her.

One of Linden’s flailing arms collided with a bottle of tequila on the other side of the bar, abandoned by the bartender’s retreat to whatever backroom this place had, where, if he had any sense, he was probably on the phone to the cops already. Her fingers scrabbled and tightened around the neck of the bottle as Nairi push-kicked the guy in the ribs, forcing him back another pace.

Linden smashed the bottle against the bar and tried to go for him with the jagged glass of the neck as she lurched upright. Nairi yanked her back by the shirt collar and snatched it out of her hand, tossing it behind the bar and stepping between the two of them with her guard up, ignoring Linden’s annoyed shout.

The guy snarled and pulled up his fists in a too-low imitation of a boxer’s stance, throwing a jab at her head. Nairi blocked it and stepped forward, bringing her shin up between his legs. He dropped at the knees and she jabbed him in the nose as he went down.

When she turned around, the bar top was on fire and Linden was biting into an arm wrapped around her face. Nairi started forward, but Linden slammed her booted heel down on top of the guy’s foot as she sank her teeth in again, nails scraping at the guys face behind her head. He released her with a startled yelp, jerking back and disappearing into the kerfuffle behind them.  

Nairi took a second to look between the bar and Linden as she caught her breath, before turning to check the exits. The door was right out; too many people crowded into and around it. There was only one guy between them and the window, however, and he’d noticed them.

He started towards them and Nairi brought a fist up to her temple, bringing the crook of her opposite elbow up against her forehead and tucking her head down. She lunged forward to meet him before he could get too close, piking him in the sternum before pulling out and stepping back.

His feet went out from under him, eyes rolling back with a soft, breathy noise as he hit the floor ass first, his head jerking back and smacking into the linoleum.

Linden gave an impressed yell, grinning again even as Nairi grabbed her hand and pulled hard. She didn’t have to tow her more than a few paces, Linden recognising the need for them to leave and moving with her.

She balked when she realised they weren’t heading for the door, though. “Uh!” she yelled, tugging on Nairi’s sleeve.

Nairi grimaced, glancing between Linden and the table that was leaning into the cracked glass of the window. There was a loud yell behind them and the ‘whoosh’ of fire picking up force. No more time for thinking, only leaving.

She grabbed the front of Linden’s shirt in both hands and pivoted, swinging Linden down and around her centre of gravity and altering the trajectory of the throw very slightly to put Linden through the window in front of them instead of straight into the ground.

If Linden made a noise it was covered by the hail of broken glass. Nairi didn’t wait to see her hit the ground before darting through after her, helping her up and brushing the glass off her back. Linden was wheezing and rubbing at her elbow, but she was grinning widely even with the few extra cuts. “We should probably get out of here, huh?”

The sound of sirens was cutting through the air outside, and they were getting closer. “Try not to run,” said Nairi, hooking her elbow through Linden’s for a change, and they made for the nearest street corner.

Linden made a faint noise in the back of her throat as the rounded the next street, flashing lights illuminating the side of her head when she looked back. “Man, this must be less of a dive than I thought,” she said, voice not even shaky as she strolled, barely anything to show that she’d just taken several hits and been thrown through a window. “Cops sure showed up quick.”

Nairi snorted, inspecting Linden’s face from the corner of her eye. Difficult to tell with the shadows and the coloured lights flashing, but she didn’t seem to be showing any immediate injury. She’d probably end up with a nice bruise from where she’d been bounced face first into the bar, though. “Yeah, they hit the gas when the fire department’s called out too.”

Linden grinned widely, propping her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “So, I shouldn’t have set the bar on fire?”

Nairi couldn’t help it; she grinned back. “No, you kind of just have to be ready to leave as soon as you do.”

“Linden?” said a voice from just ahead of them, and they both looked up.

Nicholas was on the footpath, carrying a bag from a gyro place they’d walked past on the way in and staring over their shoulders. The smell of freshly cooked meat drifted on the air towards them, and Linden’s grin only widened as she stepped forwards. “Oh, hey Nick!” she said brightly. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”

Nicholas watched the emergency vehicles streaking past with a frown. “…Isn’t that in the direction of the bar?”

“Bar’s on fire,” said Linden with a careless shrug, collecting the bag from Nicholas and reaching in. “Beer tasted like piss; you’re not missing much.”

“What?” Nicholas’s attention snapped back down to them, glaring suspiciously between Nairi and Linden. “What happened?”

“I told you, the beer tasted like piss,” said Linden, handing Nairi a gyro marked ‘falafel’. “Bartender throws a mean punch, though.”

“That was the bartender?” said Nairi, startled. “I thought he bailed.”

Linden grinned wolfishly at her over the bag. “Yeah, I don’t think he liked it when I glassed that other dickhe—”

“LINDEN!”

Nairi and Linden looked up at him expectantly. Nicholas was faintly purple in the face, flustered in the shoulders, and angry in the tone, staring the two of them down. Nairi shifted uncomfortably on her heels, but Linden seemed… aggressively unphased.

“You can’t start doing this again!” cried Nicholas. “Linden—Nairi—for crying out—one wrong hit and you could’ve gotten killed! Or arrested! We’ve—”

“I wouldn’t have let that happen,” said Nairi without thinking, frowning at him.

Nicholas stared at her for a moment, nonplussed. “You can’t account for that kind of thing, Nairi,” he said after a moment, sounding pained. “It’s not about ‘letting’, either one of you could have gotten seriously—”

“And I got her out before anything like that could happen,” said Nairi coolly, her eyes narrowing, and she turned to face Linden. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

She turned and walked away before she could say anything unwise, anger bubbling in her throat. Linden called out something after her, but she couldn’t make it out, words whisked away on the night breeze.

[constantconfusion111]

Etched into your skin - Chapter 1

I wanted to work on something a bit longer than a one shot and I'm a sucker for soulmates. I hope you'll enjoy this. :)

Pairing: Tharn x Type  Summary: The name of your soulmate is written on your body since birth. Type refuses to meet Tharn, he doesn't need a soulmate, certainly doesn't want a man soulmate. Destiny doesn't really care about what Type wants.

AO3 link

TRIGGER WARNING:

There's a brief, non explicit mention to what happened to Type as a child. If this is something triggering for you, please be careful. That mention happens during the second half of the chapter.

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

Tharn Thara Kirigun

That was a boy’s name curling on his left shoulder blade. He could only see it from the corner of his eye. His mum had taken a photo for him so that he could see clearly without twisting around or using a mirror.

Khom also had a boy’s name on his arm. Their parents had joked they were destined to be friends as much as they were destined to meet Tharn and Som.

Type was so happy. His soulmate was another boy. They’ll play football together all day long. When they’ll be tired, they’ll go back home and stay up till late to try the latest video games. Type wouldn’t have to care about the latest hot music band or who the prettiest actors were, which seemed to be the hottest topics with the girls at school. Other boys in his class were so envious.

Even though his soulmate was a man, he was still going to treat him nicely. His dad was always kind with his mum. They’ve been together for the past 13 years, but his dad still prepared the shellfish nicely for her, removing all the hard bits and bitter parts, leaving her only the best. Type had asked why once, trying to explain patiently to his father that his mother was a grown lady that could take care of her own food. He’d laughed and ruffled his hair. He explained that he didn’t want the smell of fish to linger on her fingers. He said he loved her so much he didn’t want her to have to take care of herself, he wanted to do it instead. And his mum was just kind enough to let him. He said that he’d better treat Tharn nicely, and maybe his soulmate would let him help with his food.

So Type learned. After a couple of years, he could handle pretty much anything: shrimps, sea urchins, clams, mussels, crabs, scallops. He could remove fish bones in record time. Tharn will be so impressed with him.

He wondered if they’ll meet on the island. That’s how his parents had met. She had come with friends during a school trip from the mainland. They met on the beach. He bended over backward to impress her and show her all the best authentic spots around. She fell in love with the island along with the island boy. As soon as she graduated university, she moved her whole life here. ‘For the view’ she had said when he’d come to pick her up at the airport. To which he’d replied ‘It’s not the island, the view is wherever you’re standing’. That made Type laugh each time they were retelling the story. It was such a silly thing to say. His mum had laughed as well. It really was silly. She was destined to spend her life with a silly man. She spent so many years laughing with him.

Was Tharn a silly boy? Was he going to make him laugh? Was he serious? Khom’s mother was a very serious lady. Very smart. She took them out regularly during the summer to go and see the stars high up in the dark sky. Will Tharn show him the stars too?

Type spent hours trying to imagine what Tharn would look like. The name was Thai, so surely a man with dark hair and dark eyes. Probably smaller than him. His Nan kept on saying how tall he was for his age, so surely he’ll be the big and tall one. Tharn could be the cute one. Type would protect him.

During the summer, when his parents forced him to help out at the resort, he demanded to work at the register, religiously asking for everybody’s name, pouting a little bit each time ‘Tharn’ wasn’t the answer. He’d asked Khom to do the same at his parent’s ressort in exchange for some of his mother’s sweets. Same for Song’s little family hotel.

Summer after summer, Tharn didn’t come to visit him. Did the other boy think of Type as much as Type thought of him? Did he want to meet? What if he didn’t? Type cried so hard his parents were convinced he broke a bone.

For his tenth birthday, his Nan had given him the official governmental paperwork to register at the Soulmate databank.

“It’s a bit early, but here for you. When you’re 16, you can bring this to city hall. If Tharn registered, they will match you and tell you where he is.”

Type had never claimed to be a patient boy. That night, he completed the form as best he could -what was a social security number even supposed to be?-. The following day, he ditched football practice and took the bus to the city center of the island. The employees of city hall gave him curious looks as he entered the large glass building. He walked up to the reception and wai-ed at the man behind the desk.

“Hello uncle.”

“If it isn’t the little Phawattakun boy! How are your parents, son?”

“They’re busy but fine, thank you.”

“What are you doing here anyway, you’re far from home.”

“I would just like to give this,” he explained, sliding the paper over to the man. He took it and raised an eyebrow upon reading it.

He looked him up and asked:

“Tell me son, how old are you?”

Type was prepared for the trick question.

“16.”

The man laughed out loud.

“Is that so?”

Type nodded.

“Yes, my birthday was yesterday,” he explained, pointing at the paper. The civil servant looked once again at the paper and nodded.

“Ah I see! Well, I”ll need some ID. Maybe your motorcycle licence?”

An ID? He wasn’t prepared for that. He didn’t even know if he had an ID. He couldn’t let that spoil his plans.

“I don’t have it. I… I forgot it in my other jacket. I have my library card if you want, uncle.”

The man laughed again, louder this time. Type offered his best pout, the one that was sure to guarantee him some desert even when his mum shouted after him all day.

“Come on boy, let’s bring you back home.”

The man excused himself toward his colleagues, assuring them he’ll be back soon. The ride back wasn’t too long, the city hall employee greeted his parents, explained the situation and gave them back his form.

They scolded him, for lying, and laughed at him, for having so much nerves.

“You need to be patient, Type,” they said. “It’ll happen when you least expect it.”

Which was not a satisfactory answer.

He wanted to meet Tharn. He wanted to show him the island, to bring him swimming in the sea. He wanted to build sand castles together. He wanted to build some forts in his room. He wanted to introduce him to Khom. He wanted to bring him in the forest and climb trees so high their parents wouldn’t catch them.

But then he met a man. A boogie man with the face of a person that promised him a field full of footballs to replace his old one.

Attached to that chair, body stripped of his clothes, the man had touched his shoulder, tracing the name written there with the tip of a finger.

“That’s the name of a man. You’re lucky. I’ll show you how to please one. You’re going to like it.”

He would never forget that day, no matter how much he wanted, no matter how much he prayed for it.

The spot on his shoulder scratched him, he could still feel a phantom touch that made him sick to the stomach. He had a man’s name on his body. One day, that man would want to do to him what that other man already did. He’ll touch him, he’ll hurt him.

If that’s what being with a man was like, he never wanted to meet Tharn. He wouldn’t prepare seafood for him. He wouldn’t show him around the island. He wouldn’t play football with him. He wouldn’t introduce him to Khom.

Khom, who also had a man’s name on his body.

Type didn’t know how to protect his friend. He didn’t know how to protect himself from him either. So he stopped talking to Khom. And after some weeks, Khom finally stopped trying to talk to him. It wasn’t hard to ignore the boy, it’s not like Type went out much anymore.

In the months it took Type to finally leave the house, the boy grew angry and bitter. He stopped talking about Tharn. Stopped talking of soulmates altogether, so his parents did too. He threw the registration papers in the trash.

For his 16th birthday, he didn’t register himself at city hall. Instead, he boarded a boat to go and live with his aunt in the city.

In the city, he could pretend everything was fine. No one knew him as that kid. School was easy, as always, and there he met Techno, who seemed one of the rare people that actually managed to handle him. They played football together, which was the only way Type could somewhat keep his temper in check.

There were girls as well, who had the amazing advantage of not being men. So he dated some, never allowing anyone to look at his bare shoulder.

Type and Techno graduated, already planning to join the faculty of sports together. Type could pretend all was fine, all was normal.

Until he received his dorm welcome package. Whatever illusion of normality he had managed to build shattered and reality came back to kick him in the teeth.

Welcome, we’re very proud you decided to join our University… blahblahblah... All students must be back before… blahblahblah... shared dorm… blahblahblah… assigned roommate: Tharn Kirigun.

He didn’t need a soulmate to survive, he had managed just fine -anger issues, homophobia, PTSD- by himself. He didn’t need Tharn Thara Kirigun.

“Hey No. I thought about it. I think we should get that condo in the city together. I just need to chat with my mum, she’ll change my dad’s mind about the dorm.”

[runpogorun]

Cirdadian

This is my Daredevil Exchange 2020 @daredevilexchange gift for @enfernalinferno, to fill the prompt ‘Insomnia.’ I hope you enjoy. Read here, or over on AO3.

Circadian

Matt didn’t have a clue what time it was, but he knew it was late, maybe around midday. After a good week or so where he felt like a functioning member of society, he’d been slipping again. The nights had become longer and later, coinciding with wakefulness and high energy, until suddenly here he was, sleeping away the morning. 

He pushed back the layers of drowsiness and swiped at his nightstand, knocking his phone onto the floor with an alarming crunch. With a groan, he rolled onto his belly and hung his arm off the bed, sweeping the floor with his fingertips until he located the phone. The crack across the screen was slightly longer, but it seemed to turn on as usual, announcing the time as 1:17 p.m. “Fuck.” There were two messages from Foggy.

8:55 a.m.: Hey buddy, you joining us?

9:03 a.m.: You’re probably still asleep. Let me know when you get this, so I know you’re not dead

Matt swallowed and licked his lips before dictating a reply. “Sorry Fog, slept in. How’d it go?” 

Matt’s stomach growled. He couldn’t remember if he had any food in the apartment. He scrubbed a hand across his face, fingers rasping against his stubble, then then shuffled to his feet and went in search of coffee.

Fifteen minutes later Matt was seated at his dining table, nursing the last traces of heat fading from his empty coffee cup, and cursing past-Matt’s abysmal grocery shopping. He was startled from his seat by a knock at his door, followed by a jangle of keys in the lock. “It’s Foggy and Karen. I’m letting us in,” came the call, and Matt sank back into his chair, turning to face the hallway. “I brought celebration food!”

“What are we celebrating?” Matt called back.

“A deposition to be proud of!” The door closed, and two sets of footsteps made their way down the hall. 

Matt smiled with relief. He’d been concerned about this particular deposition. Another step closer to helping their client. “I expected nothing less,” he said, as Foggy rounded the corner.

“Don’t get up on our account, Murdock,” Foggy said, reaching out and mussing up Matt’s hair as he passed on his way to the kitchen, take-out bags rustling. “I know it’s the middle of the day, but Thai is good at any time.” Foggy opened the back cabinets and started pulling down plates and dishing out the food. 

Karen sat down at the table and leaned in, whispering, “Are you okay, Matt?” There was concern in her voice. “You look kind of rough.”

Matt shook his head, wishing he had his glasses on. “I’m fine. I just slept late,” he said. Karen made an uncertain noise, her head turning towards Foggy, who appeared not to have heard them. “So, tell me more,” he prodded.

Foggy placed two plates on the table, then turned back to get his own. “You should have seen Hogarth’s face, Matty. She knows we’ve got this sewn up.” He slid into the seat on the other side of Matt, gently cuffing Matt in the shoulder.

“Hogarth was there?” Matt asked, picking up his fork and prodding at his pad thai.

“Well, no, not for the deposition,” Foggy said. “The new hire, Fonti? It was her. But I saw her briefing Hogarth outside afterwards, and when she saw me Hogarth looked like I’d just killed her cat. I think we’re going to avoid a trial.” Matt nodded. A settlement was what they were hoping for - a settlement in their client’s favour. “Oh, but, the old guy, Mason? He couldn’t make it today, and they’ve had to schedule him for tomorrow afternoon. What time was it, Karen?”

Karen pressed the back of her hand against her mouth and swallowed her mouthful before responding. “Three p.m.” 

“You’ll be able to make that one, Matty. Want to take the lead?” Foggy asked.

Matt shrugged. “Sure. Unless you think you’re on a roll?”

“Nah, Buddy. You can take it. It’s about time you did something around here,” Foggy said, without heat. Still, Matt felt a pang of guilt, and clearly it showed on his face, because Foggy’s tone became more serious as he said, “Hey, I’m joking. We’ve been over this. Eat your Thai and be happy, or else.”

Matt nodded and turned back to his food, noting that Karen’s breath had become shallow, her heart rate pitter-patter fast, like she was worried.

_____

Matt had managed to fall asleep somewhere after dawn, only just waking in time to make it to their three p.m. meeting. Thankfully, Foggy was waiting outside with a coffee in hand, which he thrust at Matt with the command, “Drink.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Fog,” Matt said, juggling his cane for a moment before Foggy took it from him. 

“Chill. We’ve got a few minutes.”

Matt nodded, and took a calming breath before blowing on his coffee. “Karen?”

“Finishing something. She might join us later.” Foggy rocked back on his heels, humming a Hamilton tune. 

Matt cleared his throat to ask, “So, Fonti. Do I need to know anything?”

“Nah. Pretty run of the mill, I’d say. Although definitely not attractive. Not at all.”

“Fogs. You’ve got to stop objectifying every beautiful woman you see.”

“Hey! I’m just doing the job for both of us. Although, I’d really like you to explain that to me, sometime.” Matt raised a questioning brow and Foggy waved a hand in his general direction. “The… freaky-senses-beautiful-woman-radar-thing.”

Matt just grunted and shook his head in response, dedicating himself to his caffeine fix before they headed inside.

As Matt shook Amelia Fonti’s hand, he could tell two things. One, that she was indeed an attractive woman; and two, that she was in some way thrown off balance by Matt. He couldn’t immediately tell if it was attraction or uncertainty with how to approach his blindness. Neither was his problem.

Civil litigation was one of Matt’s strengths, and he approached the deposition with a well-worn confidence. Mason initially seemed pleased to be able to tell his side of the story, but quickly realised that Matt wasn’t his friend. He soon became less cheerful, giving short answers. This suited Matt fine, because he was getting the information he wanted. But Fonti seemed to be reacting strangely, temperature rising with a flush and heart rate jumping, whenever Matt was particularly incisive. It didn’t seem like annoyance or frustration. 

Inside thirty minutes, Matt had everything he needed so he and Foggy thanked Mr Mason and Ms Fonti, and headed out to where Karen was waiting. They had all started to walk off, when Matt heard Fonti calling his name. He let go of Foggy’s elbow and turned to face her, a neutral smile on his face.

“Mr Murdock,” she said breathlessly, “It’s Amelia Fonti.” Matt nodded politely, as though he couldn’t be expected to recognise someone he’d just been in close quarters with for over half an hour. 

“I just wanted to say,” she continued, “What a wonderful job I think you’re doing.”

“Oh,” Matt said in surprise, momentarily startled. “I, ah, thank you. Foggy and I do like to think we’re making a difference.” He inclined his head towards where Foggy was standing, to the side and just behind him. Foggy seemed tense.

“Oh yes,” she said, “I suppose you could say that. But no, that’s not what I meant.”

Matt frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“I mean,” and here she paused, clearly thinking of what to say. She took a deep breath and started again. “I just mean, I think you’re inspirational. Being so confident when you’re, you know.” 

“I’m afraid I still don’t know what you’re getting at, Ms Fonti.” Although, of course, he did.

Fonti stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on his forearm. “That you want to practice law, when everything must be so hard for you.” She dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “When you can’t see.” 

By this stage, Matt had heard more than enough. Shucking her hand, he stepped back, shook his head slightly, and said, “If you’ll excuse me, Ms Fonti.” He turned his back to her and walked away, cane swinging slightly more forcefully than necessary.

She stepped forward, “Mr Murdock!” But Foggy blocked her path, hands in his pockets, cutting her short. 

“Matt’s a damn good lawyer, not your inspiration porn,” Foggy said. He turned away to follow Matt, but giving him some space. 

Matt heard Karen sidle up beside Foggy and ask in a whisper she didn’t know he could hear, “Is Matt okay?”

“Yeah,” Foggy said shortly. “He’ll be fine.” 

“He doesn’t seem fine.”

“He’s probably pissed, but he’ll get over it. It’s not like it’s the first time. He’s blind, sure, but that’s not all he is and he doesn’t want to talk about it that much. Let’s get back to the office.” 

____

Vaguely, Matt became aware of distant banging. Or, not in fact particularly distant. And he hadn't been asleep very long. Groggy, he levered himself off the couch and went to open the door for Karen. She never was one to give up.

"Matt?" she asked, uncertain. "Were you asleep?"

"Was," Matt said abruptly. "Come in." He gestured her in, then made a beeline back to his couch, scooping the blanket off the floor as he lay down. 

She followed him cautiously, her heels making sharp tok sounds on the hardwood and slowing to a stop as she hovered near him. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick?"

"No. I just need to sleep." Matt pulled the blanket over his shoulder, turtling into it. The blanket had been a gift from Foggy's parents, and Matt associated its softness with their kindness. 

Karen turned her head, inspecting the apartment. "In the middle of the day? It's so bright."

Matt snorted. "I hadn't noticed," he said. He could feel sleep sucking at him. 

Karen shoved his shoulder, then sat down on the coffee table, dropping her bag on the floor. “Matt,” she said.

“Mmmm?”

“What’s wrong? Can I do something to help?” She was leaning towards him, her hair swinging in front of her.

“Nothing’s wrong. I told you, I just need to sleep. Stay, if you want, but please be quiet.”

She was still, probably watching him, and mercifully silent. Then she stood, slipped off her shoes and settled into an armchair, rummaging in her bag for her laptop. Matt took this to mean she was sticking around. Not that it was necessary.

When he woke some hours later, she was gone. The apartment was cooling from the warmth of the day, and Matt could hear the sounds of a city moving from rush hour to happy hour. He changed from his sweats and tee into his nighttime gear, then paused in his bedroom doorway, scanning his apartment for what had changed. There it was, on the coffee table - a case file affixed with a braille note from Foggy. 

Matt made himself a coffee and sat at the kitchen table to drink it while he skimmed through the notes inside the file - there were printed copies of the depositions Foggy had been taking, with braille duplicates. Then he fired up his laptop and ordered takeout, and retrieved some electronic notes from the firm’s server. He listened to the notes while he ate, and even had enough time to make some preliminary thoughts and send them off to Foggy before he heard the first scream. He pulled on his mask and boots, and slipped into the night.

_____

Matt liked it when his sleep cycle matched everyone else’s, when he woke as the city eased into consciousness and he could take his time getting ready and checking the news instead of bolting from his apartment. Sometimes he and Foggy would walk together to the office, Foggy providing his usual mixture of gossip he’d heard, descriptions of the humanity around them, and worry for Matt, which usually expressed itself as merciless teasing.

When they entered the office on this particular day, Matt was laughing, trying to defend himself from Foggy’s claim that all Daredevil really had going for him was his ass.

“Morning, guys. What’s so funny?” Karen sounded bemused.

“Back me up on this, K,” Foggy said. “Daredevil’s butt is his most distinctive feature, right?” Matt made for his office, stashing his cane behind the door, then standing in his doorway, hands in pockets.

“Ah...” Karen said. “I suppose? I mean, it’s not like we can get to see much of the rest of him.”

“Exactly! Who wears a piece of fabric over their face, anyway? I mean, really, what’s the guy hiding.”

Matt shook his head. “Maybe he’s just shy, Foggy. Karen, what time is my first appointment?” He heard Foggy enter his own office, muttering under his breath about ‘flaunting that ass.’

“Right, yeah. Mrs Pagalay. She’ll be here in about forty-five minutes.” Karen picked up a folder off her desk and walked over to Matt. “Here’s her file.”

He flashed her a smile as he reached out to take the file. “Thank you, Karen.”

“Good night, Matt? You look… refreshed.”

“Yes, thank you,” he said. She was loitering, hands clasping and unclasping. Matt raised his eyebrows. “Was there something else you needed?”

“What? Oh, no. No. I just. You know where to find me if you need me.” She walked quickly back to her desk, sitting down and tucking stray hair behind her ear.  

_____

Days later, and Matt was dragging his groggy self up the stairs. He’d hoped in vain to attend a meeting in the morning, although he and Foggy had both known it was futile. He just needed to get his brain working in time for their 2 p.m. hearing, and he really hadn’t slept long enough.

Foggy and Karen were in Foggy’s office. It sounded like they were on a break, not discussing work. Matt knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he had never claimed to be a paragon of virtue, and so he lingered on the landing, a floor below the office.

Karen was laughing as Foggy regaled her with the college story of Minnie. Matt remembered Minnie fondly - she had a warm voice and she smelled nice, and she seemed really keen to spend time with Matt, sitting next to him in Negotiation Workshop. He’d been working towards asking her on a date after finals, but after they’d handed in their written analysis she’d just… disappeared. She’d punched him lightly on the forearm and walked away. He’d known she was in other classes, but she’d never said hello to him again.

“It dented Matty’s pride. He was used to girls fawning over him, not using him for his brain.”

Matt’s pride hadn’t been dented. Bruised, maybe. Matt had been young. He’d partied, he’d got to know lots of pretty girls, and usually they were keen to get to know him better.

“Did he have a lot of girlfriends?”

“Not girlfriends, exactly. Just… girls. Many girls.”

“Women,” Karen said, firmly.

“Yes. Women.”

“Matt doesn’t have a secret girlfriend, now, does he?”

Foggy snorted. “I doubt it.”

Karen hummed, thoughtfully. “I just feel sometimes like he’s hiding something. You know?”

“What? Matt. No, no. Don’t be silly. It’s Matt.” Foggy started shuffling papers on his desk.

“It’s just that, you know, he’s not here as much as you. You’re always here by nine, but Matt’s stumbling in at 11, 12… He’s not working another job, is he?”

“No! Of course he isn’t. You know how committed he is to Nelson and Murdock.”

“You think?”

“I know, Karen. I also know he has other stuff going on, and I’m okay with it. And I know he’s not moonlighting at another firm. Or hiding a lover.”

“Okay. Got it.”

Matt pulled out his phone and sent a text to Foggy, asking him to let him know when it was safe to return, turned on his heel and headed back down to the street, in search of quality coffee. 

_____

Generally speaking, Daredevil had little to do after 2 a.m. Since the office opened at 9 a.m. this meant that, periodically, Matt Murdock had a prime window of opportunity to work undisturbed, while still being able to access all the usual resources. Foggy had joked that they didn’t even need to spend more keeping the lights on, when they both knew that that was pretty much the point, with Matt’s sleep cycle. Matt could enjoy the relative peace of an empty office, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be disturbed. Reduced traffic meant fewer distracting vibrations, and Matt could more easily lose himself in his work.

So it was that Karen managed to startle Matt for the first time ever, as he sat at the conference table with both earbuds in. She had walked in, seen a shadowy figure in the morning half-light and screamed in shock. Matt was on his feet in moments, knocking over his empty coffee cup in the process, before realising who it was and that there was no genuine threat. 

“Sorry, Matt,” she said, stopping in the doorway, hand pressed over her heart, then turning on the light. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

Matt skimmed his hand over the table to locate the coffee cup, and shrugged. “Thought I’d get an early start.”

“How long have you been here?” She walked back to the coat rack to hang her coat, then to the kitchenette to start fussing with the coffee machine.

Matt stood up and followed her. “A few hours.”

“Hours? You’ve been here all night?”

“I guess.”

“You keep a pretty strange schedule.”

“I know.”

Karen took his mug, and placed it together with one for herself on the bench. “You know, Matt, I’m not telling you how to live your life, but it’s easier on Foggy when you’re around more.”

“I know that, Karen.”

“You can say it’s not my business,” she said, waving a hand around. “But it kind of is when I’m here and I see how it affects him. How it affects both of us.”

“What are you trying to say, Karen?”

Karen carried over Matt’s mug and lifted his hand, pressing the mug into it. She didn’t drop her hand from his. “Matt, if you’ve got a problem with alcohol, there’s help available,” she said earnestly.

“What?”

“Your drinking. You come in late. Sometimes you don’t come in at all. You’re asleep in the middle of the day.”

Matt started laughing, and she let go, stepping back. “I don’t have a drinking problem,” he said.

“It’s not funny. When it affects your life like this, it is a problem, Matt.” Karen turned away, fixing her own coffee.

“It’s not alcohol.” Her silence radiated skepticism, so he schooled his face into seriousness. “I’m not an alcoholic.” He took a sip. Her coffee really was awful.

“I’m not an idiot, Matt.”

“I never said you were. Look.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair then gestured helplessly. “It’s… it’s a blind thing.”

"What? Being blind makes you a flake? Come on, Matt.”

“No, really.” Matt shook his head, then waved at her. “Your brain uses light cues to reset your internal clock.” He gestured at himself. “Mine doesn’t.”

 “Oh. Oh.” Karen turned around, leaning against the counter. “You've never said whether you have light perception, or not."

Matt sighed. "Well, I don't. It doesn’t matter for most things, but it messes with my sleep cycle. I knew I was going to be awake all night, so I came in to get my work done."

“You couldn’t get to sleep?”

“Nope. It’s like insomnia that shifts forward a bit every day. That’s why my schedule always changes. I really can’t control it.”

“Can’t you take something for that?”

“I don’t really want to take any medication. It doesn’t usually work well for me.”

“I’m sorry Matt. I just… I thought it was something else.”

“Clearly.” Matt shrugged. “I probably should have mentioned it, I just didn’t think to. And Foggy has known me so long he just knows, you know? He’s great about it, but not everyone is. It can be… disruptive. There’s more than one reason Landman and Zack was not a fun time.”

“I guess so.” She nodded thoughtfully, then pushed off the counter again, turning her entire body to face him. “I shouldn’t have questioned you. Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

“Sure thing.” Matt could hear Foggy coming up the stairwell. He’d be expecting a handover from Matt, and Matt’s early departure from the office. Mercifully, the phone started ringing and Karen went to answer it. Foggy came in, and joined Matt in the kitchenette. "Morning," Matt said. 

"How's it hanging, Matty."  ”

“Good. Want to join me in the conference room?”

“Caffeine first, but yes”

Matt carried his cup back, took a seat and waited for Foggy to join him.

“Shut the door.” Matt listened as Foggy paused in concern, then slowly shut the door.

“What did you do this time?” Foggy asked.

“Nothing!” Matt protested. 

“I don’t know why you would expect me to believe that. Spill.” Foggy sat down opposite Matt, hands clasped around the coffee cup on the table in front of him. “How bad is it?”

“It’s really not me. It’s Karen.” Karen herself was off the phone and seemed to be idly moving papers around on her desk, while shooting looks towards the conference room.

“Oh god, I think that’s worse,” Fogy said.

“Possibly.”

“Okay. I’m wearing my listening face.” Foggy took a quick gulp of coffee. “Hit me.”

“Karen’s too perceptive. She asked me today if I’m an alcoholic.”

Foggy burst out laughing. “I hate to break it to you, buddy, but you kind of are.”

“Not helping, Fog. I thought she was going to ask about… the other thing.”

“Moodkill, Matty.”

“I know. She thinks I’m flaky, and that I’m not around to help you enough.”

“Yeah. She said the same to me.” Foggy tapped a finger on his mug. “Wait, did we to tell her about the sleep thing?”

“Apparently we forgot.” Matt shrugged. “I think she went with that as an explanation, but yeah. We have to be careful.”

“We both know that your hours are not an issue for me. Right?”

“Right,” Matt affirmed. 

“But I think a lot of keeping… him under wraps is going to be up to how bruise-free you can keep that pretty face of yours.”

“Fog-”

“Seriously, Matty.” Foggy took a big gulp of air. “I know we’ve been through this. Just… stay safe, okay?”

Matt fought down his argument, and nodded. “Okay.” He forced a smile, then gestured at the paperwork in front of him. “Let me get you up to speed on this, then I’ve got to go home to bed.” The thought of bed made him yawn. 

“You got it, Matty. Can’t let you miss your beauty sleep.”

[simplelittlebrowngirljae]

What being a black student at a PWI taught me

I grew up in working class family. My father was in the military and my mother was a civil servant. Neither had went to college, but they did have job training. My sister was a first generation college student of our immediate household, although I had an aunt who had her PhD and her daughter had gone to college and had her Master’s and was officer in the Air Force, we didn’t speak much about college in my family until it was time for my sister to graduate. I went along on college tours, financial aid nights and many other things associated with getting ready for the college experience. It was very exciting to see what this was all about because this was not anything we had ever experienced. My mother became ultra-educated and an advocate for my sister and wanted to get the most for our dollar and the best experience possible for my sister’s college years. My sister ultimately landed on attending Norfolk State University, and urban Historically Black College and University or HBCU for short. She also received a prestigious scholarship. When the time came, we dropped her off the short 30 minute drive and wished her well. She came home virtually every weekend or we went over there to attend events and football games and I got to see what it was like to be in college too. And I learned what things I wanted in a school and started to think about if I even wanted to attend college.

College was a foreign concept because many of my peers came from these legacies of college graduates from specific schools and that is all the spoke about, even when I was in middle school. They pretty much already knew where they were going because their parents graduated from a specific school, and their grandparents graduated from there and their great grandparents graduated as well. I was not so lucky and had to do so much research about degree programs and campuses and what I actually wanted in a school because well, college just didn’t run in my family like that. While yes my sister went to college, and I had an aunt and a cousin who attended school, we just didn’t openly discuss life after high school except that you had 3 options: get a job, go to school or join the military. I knew I couldn’t join the military because I was flat footed and had asthma so it was get a job or go to school. If I wanted any type of future, I was told going to school was the path I should take. So I started exploring colleges and then I took the SAT’s and ACT’s and school brochures started flooding my mailbox. I started making a list of schools I wanted to see because of what they offered. I attended local alumni events of schools to chat with past students and get a feel if that school could be for me.

The summer before my senior year I took a road trip to visit several schools in South Carolina and North Carolina. I loved them but then my mom broke my heart and told me if I go too far away from home I wouldn’t be able to come home like I want. So I started to factor distance into my choices. As my senior year began, I started looking at schools close to home and there was one school in particular that was just AMAZING and I fell in love with. Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU) was just different. It was in an urban setting and just yelled ‘’Hello Opportunities”. I went to the campus many times, worked hard and applied. I received acceptance letters from so many schools and waited anxiously for my decision from VCU. The day it came I was beyond elated I almost hit the roof! I was ready to start this next chapter of my life.

Now, I applied to a variety of schools, to include HBCUs and PWIs or Predominantly White Institutions. I didn’t even think about if a school was an HBCU or a PWI. I just applied based on how their programs ranked. I wanted a good education. And honestly when counselors were working with us, that did not even come up and my counselor was black and graduated from an HBCU. So why does it matter? I will tell you why. In this day in age, it is almost as if you are judged about your blackness by where you went to college or the things you did while in college. HBCUs do provide a very unique experience and are the pillar of the black community, I will say that. There is a magic and wonder that is unparalleled, especially at their sporting events and homecomings. I will say I did not have that where I attended college. And HBCUs were there when White schools would not allow us to attend. I respect them. However, it was not for me. I visited several and did not feel at home. When I walked on VCU’s campus I felt at home. And that is why I chose to attend. But because I chose to attend a PWI does not mean I do not support HBCUs. I 100% do. And because I did not attend an HBCU does not mean I am any less of a black person. I am still very black, please remember that. I have been made fun of and criticized for my choices, or told I am not really black because I went to a PWI and didn’t pledge as well ( meaning join a black sorority during my time there. That is not true either. Newsflash: you can attend a PWI and be black and not join a sorority or fraternity and maintain your blackness. My choice to attend was to grow myself and learn things and well, all of that happened. Let me share what I learned during my 4 years there:

 1. I can hold a diverse conversation- While at VCU, I came across some unique individuals. And for that reason I have had to adapt and adjust my conversations and ways of talking to many situations. I am grateful to have been in an environment that allowed to experience such because it has made me more aware of the population I am engaging with and tune into sensitive to topics of conversation, in addition forcing me listen to understand and not just respond.

 2. I am very cultured – VCU is one the most diverse schools in the world. We actually have a campus in Qatar! We have so many countries represented it is just overwhelming! I remember checking into my dorm and seeing people from India, Ethiopia, Pakistan, Laos, Israel, Nigeria, Puerto Rico among other countries and it just blew my mind. Where I am from, we had some diversity, but nothing as rich as this! With so many diverse cultures I learned about different traditions, their food and other great things. Around campus we had food from these different cultures as well. I remember tasting Indian food for the first time, and then Thai and then Venezuelan. It was like “whooooaaa… what have I been missing my whole life?!?!”

 3. I know how to network- now, not saying I would not learn this at an HBCU but I had many an opportunity to attend so many events at the State Capital and with other officials which has made me learn to network and engage with others. These opportunities have been unparalleled and I am beyond grateful to have attended this institution and to have had mentors who worked hard to present these opportunities to us students.

 4. I have refined my public speaking skills- this is self-explanatory. I had to give umpteenth presentations and take God knows how many classes on public speaking, but I am thankful for the rigorous curriculum that was provided to me that made me refine these skills. With my public speaking skills also came great research skills so I am grateful for that as well.

 5. I learned about topics I would have never imagined to include veganism, Islam, Celiac’s disease, and various holidays- this is pretty self-explanatory. Being around so much diversity and around many unique persons allowed me to learn about many different things. So many things I had not been exposed to and I was beyond thankful to have been in an environment to learn, experience and understand.

 6. I met my best friend who is from a totally different county and culture than myself- my best friend is form Sudan and is Muslim. She has taught me so much it’s unreal. Like I learned about different foods, about Africa, about Islam, the Quran, and not just learned about these things but have developed a strong respect from African culture and Islamic culture. She is one of the best things to happen to me and I swear I learn so many things from her every day…yes you read that correctly, I learn something new daily from her.

 7. I was presented with many opportunities to travel and participate in conferences and events- many of my professors belonged to many organizations and would speak at many conferences, they would have spaces available to take us to conferences with them and we would get credit for it! So I was able to travel to several conferences and meet amazing people and learn about various career paths and how to integrate what we were learning into the real world. All of that was invaluable.

 8. I learned it is okay to ask for help – this was a big one. I found myself in many a situation where things were not going as planned and I was epically failing. And my pride would not let me ask for help. But then things got so bad to where I had no choice. The crazy thing is, I should have asked for help sooner because I would have been better off. Like, those who were providing the help were more than kind and more than gracious and wanted to help. So the moral of the situation, don’t let your pride stand in the way of you getting what you need.

 9. I learned that therapy is great and not a bad thing- in Black culture, therapy is shunned. And we often suffer in silence. I was very stressed out one semester and it came out as anger. So I went to the Student Counseling Center and go help. It was the best thing I ever did. At VCU, they publicize and encourage students to use counseling services. It is a beautiful thing. Never feel ashamed of needing therapy. It is there to help you, not harm you.

 10. I learned a lot about poverty and its effect on communities and America- VCU is an urban campus. The downfall of that is that there is a large homeless population that roams around the campus. Many of these persons have mental illness, and in a few of my courses we learned about whey people are homeless and how the resources for those with mental illness are almost nonexistent once they are discharged from inpatient care. We also learned how community mental health is a joke as well and many families often disown their family members who have mental illness because it becomes too much. We also learned that there are some homeless people who are actually not homeless and who have a lot of money and who just sit on the corner asking for money for fun. It was quite interesting to learn about such. On the flip side of all that we learned about the ‘working poor’ which are folks who may be working and barely providing for themselves but they live in substandard housing but cannot afford much else. We learned about the implications of such on public health and it taught me so much and guided my whole career essentially. Because of where VCU is located we actually got hands on service learning in such topics and it made our education worthwhile.

 11. I learned about drugs, alcohol, their distribution and economic impact in society – so many men would hang out on campus during the day trying to pick up women. And the sad part is, many were drug dealers and these young innocent girls did not know. After a while one would pick up on such, however we wouldn’t engage them to the point of a relationship. I would say I would engage theme enough to learn about drugs, and how they system worked and that was enough. Ladies, just know everything that glitters isn’t gold and you should respect yourself enough to walk away from situations. Know better, do better.

 12. I learned that self-care is imperative – we all take on so many things and it can get overwhelming. I learned in my 4 years it is essential to take breaks and set boundaries in order to protect your peace. People may get mad but you cannot pour from an empty bucket.

 13. I learned it is okay to not have it all figured out- college is supposed to be the best time of your life. However, as you get closer to graduation things get a bit scary. And there are some people who expect you to have it figured out. Well guess what, it is okay to not have it figured out. VCU had a great internship program and Career Services department. And it was mandatory for me to have a 700 hours of an internship to graduate and go to the Career Center 3 times before I graduated. I learned that it was okay not to have a concrete plan during these times. I learned that sometimes the plan you had will change direction because of circumstances. And that made me feel great.

14. I learned to hold my own- because there were so many races and cultures, I had to hold my own. I had to ensure my voice was heard among the other while still portraying a positive image. I broke stereotypes and learned to outshine others. I learned to be loud without saying a word. Sometimes I was the only black female in a class but I learned to be comfortable with that and how to contribute in my own way. I learned from my professors who looked like me and who didnt look like me and it made me a stronger woman...it molded me to be the woman I am today.

 15. I became comfortable in my own skin- this is the biggest lesson I learned. I have always been judged for how I look and how I talk. I have been called white girl, told I talk white criticized for how I dress among many other things. But being in this unique setting at VCU taught me it was okay to be me. There was nothing wrong with how I dressed or spoke or the music I listened to or any of that. I am fearfully and wonderfully made and all of these things make me who I am. I am no blacker because of my likes and dislikes or how I talk or because of my hobbies. And that alone is worth gold.

 Now, am I saying that I could have only learned these lessons at a PWI? No. But I know that my experiences at my school made me who I am and even made me more comfortable in being a black female in today’s world. I feel more prepared to handle certain situations because of my situations which caused me to learn certain things. My experience was amazing. Now, if giving advice to a young black student trying to choose I would tell them this: explore your options, do your research, pick the school that feels most comfortable to you. It can be an HBCU or a PWI. But don’t ever think that going to a PWI makes you less black. You are black regardless of your choice.

[shijiujun]

history3 ep 7 summary - OMG SO MANY GEMS I DIED OF CUTENESS

i’m tagging my summaries as #history3 spoilers just in case any of you don’t wanna see anything till you get the subs/episodes i’m sorry i didn’t think of it before, there’re a lot of capital letters in this summary the cuteness was ridiculously intense tonight

also i don’t know if you guys watch the live stream on bilibili like i do, but it’s HILARIOUS the comments by the chinese audience are killing me and there’s also this function whereby all the live comments just slide across the screen like this (yes it’s damn difficult to watch the show like this but luckily you can make it translucent while you’re livestreaming, but i do it anyway because it’s COMEDY GOLD):

bar scene: tang yi follows pretty guy to the cctv surveillance room,  OMGGGGG I LOVE THE DYNAMIC BETWEEN PRETTY GUY (whose name is Andy by the way) AND TANG YI - Andy asks how did Tang yi know that shit was going to happen in his club, and tang yi doesn’t respond but andy ain’t giving up

andy: “dealing drugs in my club? do they wanna die?”

YAS ANDY YOU GO!!!

andy: “how did you know something was going to happen? you know a cop among them? is it the one you talked about earlier, the one that you’re passionate about?”

tang yi to andy: “YOU deserve someone to be passionate to you.”

and then they shove each other like old friends do i really love it that tang yi has so many friends like the doctor guy and hong ye and everyone else this is the kind of friendship that we should all have

cue to the next scene: shao fei legit JUMPING AND SULKING IN FRONT OF TANG YI’S HOUSE GATE and HE’S WEARING THE FUGLY PINK SHIRT WITH ANOTHER STRIPED SHIRT UNDERNEATH - he’s really sulking and i love it, and then while he’s jumping, tang yi’s car, driven by jack, rolls up and jack just pauses for a moment, then turns to look at tang yi: “it’s officer meng. do you want me to just drive in?”

shao fei guiltily stops his nonsense and POUTS as the car stops, then inside the car tang yi considers this for a moment, before just alighting the car and asking shao fei: “what can i do for you?”

shao fei using the excuse that he needs to talk to tang yi, and then insisting that he can’t talk “here” and this is where THE GEM HAPPENS

they move to this tea shop where shao fei obviously regularly visits cuz the tea shop boss knows him - the tea shop boss comments “you’re wearing a really cute outfit today officer meng” WHILE TANG YI SITS THERE HANDSOMELY LIKE A STATUE HE’S SO DAMN CUTE 

and then this is character and relationship development guys, because tang yi isn’t hostile and he isn’t unfriendly, he’s just smiling at shao fei as if he knows exactly why shao fei is here and why he’s sulking - shao fei hasn’t even said or asked anything (although he does look like he really wants to say something a few times) before tang yi VOLUNTARILY tells him:

“his name is andy, he owns the bar and the business is quite good.”

and continues:

“his cocktails taste really good. my relationship with him is very good.”

SHAO FEI’S FACE!!!!!! he’s obviously totally jealous and disappointed but hasn’t said anything, and that’s when tang yi continues:

“...my relationship with andy’s boyfriend is even better” 

cue shao fei’s face lighting up!!!!!!! he’s like “that andy really has a bf?!” it lights up like a homing beacon and he asks: “Really?!!!” and it’s to tang yi’s credit and their budding friendship that he doesn’t mock shao fei or anything, he just nods in affirmative and reaches for his phone inside his pocket and finds a photo of andy and his boyfriend for real and gives it to shao fei

shao fei is obviously so relieved, but he tries to hide it by laughing, “why do you have photos of another guy and his boyfriend in your phone?!!!” to which tang yi responds, “i don’t have many friends, i don’t have a lot of photos of friends i can take” and guys i really love this scene, their friendship has really come so far and they’re sitting for tea, no hostility, no ridiculous accusatory questions, it’s just them being friends together

and so since they’re on the topic of ‘friends’, shao fei then comments that he and tang yi are friends too! LOL shao fei so desperately wants to be friends with tang yi it’s fucking hilarious because he doesn’t realise how much he likes tang yi at this point and why he’s so eager to be friends and around tang yi: “i saved your life a few times, you saved my life a few times, you gave me a discount on the suit, i gifted you the skeleton keychain” etc. etc. listing everything they went through tgt in the past few weeks

tang yi got me for a moment there - he holds out his hand, and i thought he was going to shake on that friendship, but when shao fei reaches out for his hand to shake it, tang yi retracts it and goes: “where’s the keychain (ep 1)?”

look at shao fei bb’s smile, he is totes smiling and basking in tang yi’s undivided attention and presence, they’re so cute this is my favourite scene to date - they’re totally flirting, and shao fei totally wants tang yi but he doesn’t know it yet

and then tang yi COMPLIMENTS shao fei’s clothes: “your outfit today looks very good” and idk if he half meant it as like a joke, but he seemed pretty damn sincere and whipped for shao fei to me as his basically saying that shao fei looks cute today

and omg the tone that tang yi uses when he’s speaking to shao fei here? it’s amazing, like liquid honey and tenderness, and ooooh i can tell someone is about to be jealous in the future of the junior, and shao fei is totes oblivious to junior’s crush on him but tang yi? he sees CLEARLY

shao fei laughing at the frog on his shirt, tang yi smiling at shao fei being cute

THEY’RE FRIENDS THEY ARE TOTALLY FRIENDS FUCK THIS SHIT THEY ARE FRIENDS I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL TANG YI WAS CIVIL AND FRIENDLY AND TOTES NICE TO SHAO FEI 

wow tang yi and bodydumb scene: tang yi’s about to go jogging and exits his bathroom/room and bodydumb is there - he wants to accompany tang yi on his jog as it’s obviously quite dangerous with whoever is still out there that kidnapped him previously, but tang yi says no, and then bodydumb GRABS tang yi by the arm and wow tang yi’s glaring gaze i could feel it through the screen

and this is the part that everyone doesn’t quite get - i don’t know if i’m reading it wrong but tang yi then says sternly: “i treat you as my brother, but only as my brother, and nothing else” - he walks off and leaves bodydumb behind looking stricken and disappointed (i know i call him bodydumb but if he’s really in love with tang yi and it’s unrequited love or infatuation, i do feel a bit sorry for him)

the chinese audiences live streaming with me - they really didn’t get this curveball either, i think it’s interesting, neither good nor bad but wow a bit confusing too evidently by this screencap while the live screen was going on: see the question marks?!!!!

JOGGING SCENE: this is the cutest thing ever - (shao fei do you not need to work or something you keep turning up) shao fei turns up on tang yi’s jogging route and tang yi doesn’t even look the least bit disturbed, only commenting: “are you skipping work?” 

shao fei fulfils his promise of bringing the keychain to tang yi, and then tang yi invites shao fei for a round of jogging to which shao fei replies: “one round? i can do even two rounds!” and then they just start running - they’re totally attracted to each other overtaking themselves - good, healthy competition

as they’re running to a more secluded part, under the bridge, the shooting scene that we saw in the trailer occurs - shao fei sees the suspicious man first (finally!!!! shao fei’s policeman instincts reflected here finally) and grabs tang yi to get down. the shooter does get a shot in which grazes tang yi’s back, and then the shooter walks off (he looks damn suspicious and also a bit incompetent btw) - shao fei is about to give chase, but tang yi says no need, that he’s going home, and shao fei is all: “okay, i’ll protect you!”

then jack went to find zhao zi, he’s waiting for him as zhao zi exits the police station building with the other team members, and he wants to help him cook - his team members try to get jack to go away cuz they’re alr all on the way to lunch, but jack is all “bro, i’m already here?!” and then the team members don’t seem to give too much of a thought to sending zhao zi off with A KNOWN GANG MEMBER? THEY JUST - let jack grab him

zhao zi, jack kidnapped you, don’t say hi to him like you guys have been friends since first grade!!!!!!

omg zhao zi brings him to the house - jack cooks EXACTLY what he cooked him the previous time at the house, and omg thai food

THEY’RE FLIRTING OVER INSTANT NOODLES?!!!

AWWWWWW zhao zi loves his grandma so much, he keeps everything that his grandma gifted him and places everything on the shelf, including a photo of her - PURE LOVE i really like that zhao zi treasures his grandma so much

lol jack is totally scoping the place out like an enemy’s hideout or smth, and profiling zhao zi 

jack is going to matchmake zhao zi and a girl - i think it’s totally a ploy to get zhao zi’s number, because the dude totally takes out his phone voluntarily to get jack’s ID and jack obviously is so happy to have his phone number?!!!! and sends him a sticker over LINE

back to tang yi’s house: he’s getting bandaged for his wound by cute and hot doctor, the one that treated shao fei the other time, and then hong ye turns up all panicked and flustered and demands from the doc: “will the injury get infected?!!!”

doc: “you crazy woman, how many years have i treated tang yi? have i ever done my job badly?”

hong ye: “how would i know, maybe your skills have deteriorated?!”

and then shao fei turns up and it’s funny as hell, they obviously know each other and have seen each other a few times over the years because they’re all pointing at each other like “YOU!!!” - the rivalry between them both is real and i am living for it

shao fei: “we’re friends!”

hong ye: “you guys are friends?!!!!”

tang yi: ⊙︿⊙ and then he half sides shao fei, looking to be in a real dilemma though, by saying “he’s HALF a friend!!!!” YAS TANG YI SUPPORT UR HUSBAND

and then immediately after hong ye stalks off angrily, shao fei turns to the doc and guess what, says: “will the injury get infected?!!!”

and the doc is like deja vu - “one just left, and another one appears” LOL hong ye and shao fei’s concern for tang yi, whether they like it or not, mirrors each other

the scene with hong ye and dao yi - cute, I SHIP!!!!! ice cream not-date i love it

police chief is a pretty good boss 

POLICE CHIEF U HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT’S COMING WHILE U EAT THAT PIZZA SLICE - everyone is totally avoiding shao fei as he asks to protect tang yi EXCEPT zhao zi, zhao zi you are really A GOOD FRIEND he’s trying his very best to make shao fei’s case for him

really looking forward to tomorrow’s episode i have to say - really liked that they delved a bit into the hong ye x dao yi relationship, and i love the sibling love hong ye has for tang yi, and gosh, that tang yi and shao fei are finally PROGRESSING ON THEIR RELATIONSHIP/FRIENDSHIP - and zhao zi and his grandma? and jack’s interest is all written on his face, and ANDY is an mvp he’s very sexy and hilarious

[august097]

Writing

We don’t realize it, but the way we depict aliens is very anthrocentric. We assume that they would have a lot of the same features as us. You see this in sci-fi, where most aliens are humanoid, despite evolving on a different under probably different circumstances.

Another way is culturally. We assume aliens wear clothes, that they communicate through sound and that we are capable of pronouncing said sounds. Klingon sounds alien, but If actually compared to a real alien language, it would be steriotipically human.

That finally brings me to writing. Writing is considered something fundamentally civilized. Like every advanced people would have it. After all, how else would you make records and spread information before the invention of recording devices?

Well, the answer comes from the fact that humans have relatively bad memory. That’s why writing was invented. As an outside medium to put information. But what if aliens have extremely good memory? What if they could remember entire books worth of information without difficulty? Than what motive do they have to invent writing? Writing is time consuming and exhausting. I can barely stand ten minutes of constant writing. Only achieving a page at most in that time. In Medieval times, it took nearly a year to write a single copy of the Bible.

Aliens might rely on their memory instead of writing. Instead of scribes, they would have people whose sole job was memorizing things. Messengers would say exactly what the sender said to the recipient, rather than send a letter. Not until the invention of recording devices would they finally use an outside medium. Because of this, the invention of records would be up there with mechanical/electrical vehicles and computers as a major technological advancement.

Now what would aliens think of humans and their writing? First they would think writing was just an odd form of human art. Which, in the case of calligraphy, is sort of true. But they would quickly notice the prevalence of it. They would wonder why humans hand out copies of this art at times when they should focus on working. Then they notice humans reading them. Without anyone or any device telling them, the humans seemed to have somehow gained information. Finally they ask and are shocked. That art is a form of record keeping.

Alien scholars become instantly interested. They learn about how humans had writing since nearly the dawn of their civilization. They would learn how it evolved from pictographs (images representing things), to ideographs (images representing ideas), and finally to phonographs (images representing sounds). About the many types of scripts humans have. Like alphabets, abjads (phonetic script with only consonants. Examples: Arabic and Hebrew), abugidas (phonetic script which represents vowels as little marks around the consonants. Also known as alphasyllabaries. Examples: Hindi and Thai.), syllabaries (phonetic script that represents syllables, rather than phonemes, which are individual sounds. Examples: The Japanese scripts of Hiragana and Katakana.), logographies (script consisting of pictographs and ideographs. Example: Chinese and Ancient Egyptian.), and featural (a phonetic script whose letters are designed to describe how they are pronounced. Example: Korean.).

This is shocking. Humans had records millennia before they had electricity. Writing is seen as what defines human culture. So, much of their works of literature and their scientific discoveries were recorded with it. Their very history marked by it. A part of me wonders if aliens might take books as souvenirs when visiting Earth. Than again that’s pretty anthrocentic, too.

[z-007]

Asset Zain's Adventures

Fiction

Asset Zain’s Adventures

Agent Zain spent nearly about 3 years doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was reading, Ian Fleming, Mathew Dunn, Tom Clancy and the biography of Morten Storm. He had an enormous and abnormal heart beat while reading those texts. He was amazed by the intelligence, prediction of the future and vision. Let alone the abilities of the operatives’ wittiness and abilities to use magicians’ techniques to acquire all they want, by any means necessary. After reading the novels, he kept asking himself “What is the purpose of getting married and raising children, what would he gain after getting stuck in a bloody sanctimonious routine behind the desk, doing paperwork? What would he achieve? What is life without danger, adventure and taking risks? For him, he preferred to be “like a kite dancing in a hurricane”. Suddenly, the phone rang, the headquarters of the secret service told him that he was requested. He bathed in cold water after sprinting, had a double portion of espresso as “he hated small portions of anything”. After he entered the building, he smiled to the secretary, entered the office of the chief, C and stood in front of him. He told him to sit down. He looked at him morosely, it was a look of disrespect, disdain and disgust. He said,” Today is a moment of truth to begin with. You should be ashamed of yourself; you keep wasting your time chase girls. Did you know that there were heads of secret services who lost their life for the sake of women? Terrorists can set you a trap using a woman to get to you. From now on, no contact with female suspects without prior approval. Added to the fact that you keep eating unhealthy food like chocolates and candy, take a look at the weight you gained. You look so embarrassing. Let alone that you wake up 4 pm every day. This will not be tolerated. Take notice, okay?!”, Zain replied, “Of course Sir”. C continued, “this is a very rough mission I have chosen for you, since I’m well aware of your talents and skills. We have a terrorist organization called Phantom that is so dangerous, it funds terrorism and fanatics of the universe and the majority of them are psychopaths, it also funds the nastiest drug dealers of the world and working on a biological warfare project, militarizing chemical formulas to turn them into weapons instead of cures to some stubborn diseases. Your objective is to foil the terrorist organization’s plans in Desert Land, use whatever it takes and the use of brutal force is authorized: including killing and death. Second, arrest Nicolas Matera, the world’s most wanted list for drug-dealing and smuggling Heroin, captagon and raw-opium. He lives in Bolivia. The last one is finding a missing scientist whose phone went dead and held captive in Turkey, he has a very important research and we want to guarantee that this research doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. After you complete those missions, I want you to find out who is the man behind Phantom, it is the hardest part.”. Before you go, report to Colonel Falcon Quest in our training center to retrieve your fitness, be well-versed in unarmed combat, explosives, firearms and a host of other intelligence techniques, you are supposed to be as fit as a fiddle. If you fail your mission, I will have your guts for garters.”

Fitness & Training

Before exiting C’s office, I turned around and said “Thank you Sir”, he replied, “for what?”, “The truth, I answered. He closed the door behind, walked out of the building and strolled out of the grim para-military office in the city street. It was a hot and humid day, and women started to show the beauty of their bodies, from their locks of their hair, to their shell toenails inside their heels, let alone that “only God knows how many of them are on this planet, let alone where”. As he reached the tunnel, he went downstairs, he found the center. It was a brilliantly designed gym with a hall built next to it. Colonel Quest was a man in his late forties, he had a body which was similar to that of Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Hulk. His body was not only huge, so were his experiences, fighting, skills and wars. He made me believe and realize that not all angels carry the harp and sing. Some of them are warriors. He welcomed me boisterously. He was sanguine and exuberant. He treated me like his son who was also my friend. His name was John. Firstly, he asked me to take my shirt off, took a look at my body to examine it. He said, “I have an MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) program for you, I want you to promise me to follow your diet and exercises of Kickboxing, judo, Muay Thai and weightlifting. Concerning your diet, I will be sorry to inform you that you have to stop eating and drinking sweet things. It was a very hard thing at the beginning, but I said to myself “when there is a will, there is a way.” He started his first day at gym, He used to feel dizzy and nausea, it was like that for two weeks, maybe three, later the results came up step by step, he gained speed, muscles, balance, endurance. The hardest thing for him was split up various exercises, added to stretching of course. The pain they cause for a man, is similar to that of renal colic, the stones that are formed in the urinary tract, which cause bleeding. They were necessary to release the pelvis joints to perform the kicks like front, back, round and round house, and sometimes flying while doing them which made them twice harder. They were necessary to make his body like elastic rubber. 4 months later, a committee was gathered to elevate him, he was told that he needs to do what is he asked to do. He did shadowbox with kicks that he had been given, after 7 minutes of this hard work, he did 80 press-ups, 100 sit-ups and 20 pull-ups, after that he bowed for them and being told that he could leave. After that the Colonel told me via phone call that he was so proud of him. Moreover, he taught him to shoot, swim and dive. After getting done with all the work, he received a message telling him to go to the airport and wait for his flight to Desert Land.

First Mission

After he arrived, he took a taxi to the hotel, took a shower in cold water to cool the heat he felt at that dreary spot of region. He ate grilled meat, a tumbler of raki with ice and cold water, and started glaring at the ceiling, thinking about how many lives is he going to end, exterminate or take. If it was the other way round, got caught, what might they do to him? will they cut off his throat, boil him alive, soak him in gasoline and burn him…etc. All those scenes kept circulating, but he made up his mind not to think about it and spare himself this misery, he said to himself” Carpe Diem for Now Agent Zain.”. Next day, he went to the mosque, he performed the role of a hater of the modern civilized war, whose brain was not concerned about anything except converting people to Islam with threatening people with their lives. He got himself well-known among his so-called Brothers of Awareness individuals, he kept gaining their trust by setting up terrorist cells inside the city, promoting people to do the things he was totally against. When the time came, he got on a truck with the terrorists, and they reached the location of the ISTCE, they were successors of ISIS, it stood for Islamic State Task Force, even worse. Firstly, they swore to defend the Caliphate (Abu Bader El Iraqi) with their blood, to be loyal to the organization and do whatever it takes to protect it. Second, He announced his defection and betrayal on the internet, he made everybody hate him (family, friends, acquaintances and everybody). He did all of that for the sake of the game he was playing. Third, he was called by the Caliphate to kill the infidel they captured, they told him that he was a private eye, a snitch and a spy. When he approached him, held his head looked at his face, it was his bloody friend, his body shivered, he started shaking as if he had Parkinson. He killed the humanity inside him, so he did do the memories he had with him, the brethren, and the principles he grew up with. Hence with a heart as hard as a stone, and with a blood that was so cold like a wizard of ice, he stabbed his neck and removed his head out of his body, blood oozed out like a volcano and he uttered a scream similar to that of a monster. He passed his test of devotion, gained the Caliphate’s trust and he was told that he is required to finish the next stage. They started training members to behead, burn, shoot and kill. They were psychopaths brought from all over the world. Only God can tell what are they made of, or what their make-up was. This was frightening to be thought of at the very least. While he was learning to do the most gruesome things in the world, he saw a General of the spy agency he was working for, he was a traitor with a very high position, with vital information. Agent Zain was lucky for not being spotted, maybe the beard and the turban hid his facial prints. And this General was not African, Asian or Muslim, he was a blonde man with blue eyes. After the tasks were given to the Asset inside ISTC, he was ready to capture the terrorists whose faces were recognized, or tear down anyone or anything that reminded him of the organization in Desert Land. He started tracing their calls, locations and their contacts, simply because the devil lies in details. One day, he captured a man whose name was Jihad Ahmad. He was about to send children with C4 explosive charges inside civilian’s gathering. The moment, Zain shot him in the leg, he was immobilized. He later pressed the wound with his leg and he started yelling. He then looked at his eyes that were full of hatred, and asked him” Do you think that you are doing the right thing, killing women, children and families for an illusion that you are going to rule the world by Sharia Law. In the Quran, there is no place for suicide-bombing, killing and slaughter, you misunderstand the only one book you read in your life, which is ironic and pathetic.”. In addition to that, there is a verse in the Quran that says” You have your religion, and I have mine.”, there is another one that says, “who wants to

believe, believe, otherwise it is his own choice”. Jihad revealed that there was a psychiatrist who brought psychotics and schizophrenics, he exposed them to a radiation that made them believe that Allah was speaking with them: telling them to slaughter infidels, so they became professional killers. After that he picked up his phone, opened saved pictures of the victims, some were his family, wife and children’s bodies were shred by automatic fire bullets. This led to the outburst of his tears and moans of how they brainwashed him to turn this innocent man to a killer for a Caliphate who thought that he was a good Muslim. He realized that he killed the people who loved him most. Zain replied” Did you see the outcome of what you are doing, you are working for your enemies by the way. You showed them that the nation of Islam, doesn’t accept freedom of thought, expression and education. Now they are 100% sure that your nations will never ever flourish”. He stood up, wiped away his tears, his face told Zain that he was the man who grew conscious, a man who listened to the voice of wisdom. Then he said” We will work together and take that tyrant down” That’s how he recruited him, by using emotional intelligence. Days went by, their targets got ambushed by locations. What Hollywood revealed about espionage work was not 100% correct, an agent was supposed to be a grey person, someone who was seen and forgotten at the same moment. It was mostly about writing reports, sending coded texts that looked like any other text, but held a message, and the army would intervene, the agent should not always shoot or blow something up. It would be very conspicuous. In the intelligence work, discretion and secrecy are key. Following that we they kept turning over enough rocks, safe houses and locations that they were bound to be under one of them. The days of ISTC had become numbered, the Caliphate approached them and told them that he needed them. When they went back to their HQ, he was panicked, shaking and he had the looks of a very miserable man. He said, how did the security found out about Abu Kifah Al Massry, Zain acted like he never heard of him, despite that he was the one who shot him at point-blank. One of the guards beckoned him to come, and he said “Zain Ibrahim is a spy.”, it was the General whom he saw at the training camp exposed him to his enemies. His name was Cane Walker. He was someone with a very high positions, he had access to the secret service files and data. He turned Zain inside-out. All of a sudden, the guards gathered around him and his new ally, the one who he turned against his people, Jihad Ahmad. They had been dragged to a room full of starving dogs, and he said” Now, it is time for you to die a very gruesome death”, one of the guards whispered to Zain” One minute, one minute”. Bang, it was a F-35 that took off from an aircraft carrier in the Arab Gulf, flames, everywhere, all the guards and individuals started running for their lives. Jihad Ahmad strangled the caliphate with his bare hands to avenge his family and the innocent lives he took away under the orders of this murder who had no appreciation of human life. When Zain approached the General to find out about who was he working for, he said “Do you think it’s over Zain, this is just the beginning”, he said “I want a name!!”, he died the moment Zain tried to take something out of him, the trail gone cold.

Second Mission

Agent Zain felt depressed from the fact that his mission was incomplete, he was absolutely sick of not finding out who was the man behind all of this hellish journey he had to take. He noticed a bizarre thing taking place all over the world, it was drugs. Bolivia was the richest country of drugs’ types, like Alice’s wonderland. Lovely nature, seaside, the world’s best and most beautiful women. It was such a waste that this country was nearly on the verge of the abyss because of narcotics. Youth who can enlighten the world with wisdom, logic and educational creativity a digging their own graves. They have the illusion that they are escaping misery and melancholia. They claim that they make them happy. The world did an awful mistake by legalizing marijuana, forgetting the fact that it causes psychosis, a severe mental illness. The symptom of this disease will be crystal-clear after their body demands this nasty, dirty bloody substance. He got acquainted with a drug-dealer from who bought marijuana. He also got himself acquainted with all drug-dealers of the world by injecting heroin, opium and the most lethal drugs in his veins, he did it not for the love of these poisoning substances, it was to gain the loyalty of drug and narcotics’ cartels. It was purely professional. He did it after C informed him to cooperate with Interpol, so he went to their headquarters and gave him a traceable phone with bugs to put inside the cell phones of the drug cartels, so that one of them would have led him to the new drug lord, the successor of Pablo Escobar and Franz Sanchez, his name was Nicolas Matera. While Zain talked and behaved as someone who loved drugs, breathed them and adored them, learned that there was a place called the Tri-Borders area, or the Triple frontier. The place where the borders of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay. While Agent Zain lived in that spot, it was like a small image of hell. Terrorists of all geographic spots came to it, Al Qaeda, ASU, Al Nusra Front and ISIS. It was like a heaven for them. Simply because drug-dealers used to finance them to buy weapons, arms and military supplies. Also, sex-trading, pedophilia, human-trafficking, prostitution and paid-assassins took a share as well. Everybody had a share. It was full of youth who were supposed to be wise, snorting and filling themselves with this sort of toxins. It was an import-export area of this curse. As Agent Zain got himself blend with their communities. He also got used to the torture scenes of cops and presumably police informants. They used to tear out their hands, arms, forearms, legs and every damn muscle to implement the highest amount of pain while keeping the victim alive for as long as possible. After the victim announces to whom he was working, he gets a shot between the eyes. One day all drug dealers made “A Deal of A Century”, the deal was about to load 800 Tons of every drug into lorries, take the Tri-Border spot as an area of export, and later Nicolas Matera would have made more than 100 billion dollars. The lorries were filled with gasoline, and later they take them to the scientists to release the drugs from the gas. Agent Zain, went to the bar, and sent a text message by a mobile application that made him go incognito to the Interpol. He told them the following,” Hundreds of tons of candy will be loaded in lorries to the candy shop known as, The Cuidad Del Este.”, that was the area where the lorries were about to be ambushed. “Added to that, the lorries will not go alone, they will be accompanied by so thrilled children.”. “The candy” stood for drugs shipment and “children” stood for armed-smugglers travelling via motorcycles and cars. Later the phone of Agent Zain buzzed, it was a message saying, “Thank you for your contribution”. The thugs started loading the trucks into the lorries, the loading process took 42 hours. Agent Zain Ibrahim, had to conceal the terror, fear of being caught, getting tortured and deliver all his intelligence do the miscreants behind his smile, jokes and hard work lifting and carrying the shipments. Later

Nicolas Matera, told them that he wanted the operations to be success, if failed, you will be exterminated. The moment the lorries started their engines, his heart was beating hardly and fast, he was lucky that no one of the knob heads took notice. The phone of Matera’s assistant rang, and was told to go. Later, they started travelling. They were about ten lorries, with 4 cars in the front, a raw of motorcycles at sides, each one with his SMG behind his back, with 2 at the back. When they reached Cuidad Del Este, there were people claiming that they were drug dealers, but they weren’t, they were spooks. This kind of intelligence operation was called “The Sting”, which the spy poses as a terrorist and trap the suspect and get him drained from information, about people, places and plans. And Interpol deployed snipers on roofs and the army was also involved. The gang welcomed the claimed drug dealers, smiled to them and they asked “where is the money?”, “In the boot of the car” they answered, all of the sudden, the military, cops and forces popped up from the middle of nowhere. The thugs had no choice, but to surrender. They were well surrounded. All of the thugs, and drivers were taken to interrogation, the Interpol applied the necessary pressure to find out who was behind them. They told them that after the information they gave to the investigators were correct, they would serve a reduced sentence. Moreover, they brought their mobile phone to the information section, they were all wired to computers. The purpose of that was to find out the trace of all messages,30 was from other neighboring states in South America, 60 from some Arab countries and different terrorist cartels, and all of them were protected by a server in Bolivia. It was protected by bio-metric security measures. Out of a coincidence, Agent Zain, saw a man who was so thin, wearing big glasses and his jaw was pointed to the front. He was a geek, literally a nerd. He kept working on hacking the server for 10 hours, Agent Zain looked surprised, he asked the lad “Didn’t you get tired?”, he answered “Take a look at this herb, this is called Mate, A product of Argentina, we soak it in cold water and pour 60 degrees boiled water in it, and I drink that for two hours. It helps me to stay awake with full concentration, I would bet that Hulk had drank it before he became green.”, Zain laughed, he tasted it, it was like tea and kept him awake all night. That drink was a hullaballoo of some sort. The information team kept searching, analyzing and hacking for 6 days, no stop, they found, nothing. Absolutely nothing. All of a sudden, one of the computers beeped, and gave a red signal. There were key words, “Police, Candy and Boss.”. Boss, stood as a name for Nicholas, who was presumed to be the drug lord. The secret service approached agent Zain via Interpol, C told him, agent Zain I want you to set up an arrest operation to Nicholas Matera who lives in Bolivia. You are working as a “Red Notice”, Zain replied “Very good Sir.”. Agent Zain, took a bus and then chose a safe house, ordered priests customs so that he could pose to the narco-terrorist as a low-level gangster posing as a religious and pious man, a member of his group, that would have been more convincing. When he reached his castle, it was made of Romanian temples’ stones, it was also facing the beach and full of guards, expensive cars and race vehicles. As he walked his path to the master narco-terrorist of all times, Nicholas Matera. Agent Zain greeted him with biblical words, he spoke fluent Spanish, this is why he had no problem with him. He introduced himself as Priest Basilio Álvarez. Agent Zain saw him. He was a man in his late forties, brown eyes and a moustache, fat and bohemian in some sort. Zain started talking with him about his glories. He said, “I was born a poor man, my father killed my mother when I was young because she cheated on him, and plotting against him, in other words, she was trying to turn him over to the police. And we had to make money anyway possible, so he started smuggling

drinks of all kind, like Whiskey, Vodka and Tequila. We started to get by bit by bit. Later, my father has introduced me to a drug lord who made fortunes out of marijuana, cocaine and we became the richest people in the world. After my father died, I swore that I will do anything in my domain to preserve his legacy and expand his kingdom”. Zain then said, “This is so inspiring, can I become a member of your entourage, especially that loyalty is more important to you than money?”, “Por supesta”. He answered. “Saludos me hermano”, he was overwhelmed by this request. All of a sudden, Matera’s phone rang, it was a call with a photo confirming that Zain was a spook. The same way he got caught in ISTCE, (Islamic State Task Force). It was someone from the very top, Zain swore if he got out, and found out who it was, he would “Turn him to smithereens.”. Nicolas Matera said, “don’t do anything stupid, your cover was blown by someone from the very top. The same people you work for”. “It is true that you turned down my deal of the century, but I’m stronger more than you know. I will lead the whole world to its own grave. Europeans and Americans came to my country to steal our gold, silver, tin, ore and ivory. Arabs from the gulf and middle east, raped our women. They also made women of our regions as sex-slaves. I have a much more gruesome project. It is called Refreshing Air, I have deployed 30 planes filled with Chinese Fentanyl, my pilots will spray it into the atmosphere of our enemies. This will be the most gruesome revenge of my empire.”, Zain interrupted, “You want to spray Fentanyl, it is a drug that kills the pain of stubborn diseases. It is also addictive”, Matera said, “When the fentanyl gets reduced in their blood, they will all come to me and pay billions of dollars and euros. This is how they will lick my boots and kiss them to become bewitched by my charm.” Zain interrupted, “You are bragging about yourself, you will end up in the dunghill of history.” Matera screamed, “Guards, take this gringo to the sewers and soften him up, I’m not done with him yet. I want to hear his pain knocking on my office door in the upper floor.”. The moment they stripped him out of his clothes, they started whipping his skin, kicking him in the testicles and breaking the bones of his face. Later, Interpol noticed that Zain’s phone went dead, so they informed NATO to arrange the arrest of this villain. Then a plane 3000ft in the sky opened its gate and soldiers jumped out of it, deployed their parachutes, landed at the roof of Matera’s castle and cocked their SMGs, AKS’s with silencers and everybody started shooting. Bullets were pouring down like rain. This was a real war. The moment Matera gave orders to kill Agent Zain, he held a piece of broken glass tightly. The moment one of the guards got too close, Zain stuck it in his eye, the guard yelled, Zain untied himself, took the rifle, and shot his way out of the sewers. He started running naked until extraction team took him to HQ. He was unable to think, move or do anything. He said, “What happened?!”, they said “Matera is dead”, “he committed-suicide and the drugs had been taken by authorities.”. Zain went back to the mental-health centre of his secret service’s station. He spent a very long time of rehabilitation, to release the toxins he inserted into his veins that turned him into an irrational human being. He learned that everything he did, came at a cost.

Third Mission

Zain spent nearly a year at hospital. Resisting the aches and itches of his body, the pain of bruises, wounds and tumours. The mental health treatment he went through was beyond hardship, it was harder than the disease. He had psychotic symptoms from the bloody damn drugs as a consequence of arresting Nicolas Matera. He spent about two years to retrieve his vitality and making his brain clear and sharp like knife’s razor. One of the nurses came and said “Zain, you have a phone call”, “Okay”, he said. Zain went to the reception desk, the nurse handed him the phone, it was C who wanted him, he said, “You are requested immediately, you have to report.”, “Yes sir, I’m coming”. Zain had a military haircut; he shaved his beard with a cut-throat razor. He wore his white shirt, black suit and shoes and a blue tie. When he arrived to HQ, smiled to the secretary and told him that he could come in, C looked at him and told him to sit down. C said “Glad to have you back agent Zain, welcome! I’m contained that you have to retrieve your mental health and physical well-being after foiling down Nicolas Matera. The new mission is three more times complicated than the other two. There was a scientist held captive in Turkey. His name is George Cranwell. He was researching a formula to cure cancer. We want you to investigate where and why he was kidnapped. We don’t want the research to fall into the wrong hands, because it could be turned to a deadly weapon. Moreover, our information computers picked up three key words, which were bioweapons, research and password. The signal went dead in Castello de Bodrum. Zain booked himself a flight that lasted 12 hours to Bodrum. When he arrived, he took a taxi and started enjoying the view of the seaside, beaches, blue sky and the beautifully decorated Turkish buildings. After arriving to his hotels, he checked in a suite just up to the beach, put on his swimming trunks and started swimming, free diving wearing his glasses and breathing tube. After he finished, he ordered oysters, crabs, lobsters, fish and Vain De Chateaux, a bottle of French wine. As he got ready, fully-focused and vital, he accessed the Secret Service website from his lap-top, they informed him that the signal of the missing scientist aka George Cranwell, is coming from an abandoned prison site which dates back to Sultan Abdul Hamid. He closed the browser, got up, stretched his muscles, bathed in cold water. Took a BMW G32, attached the silencer to his Beretta 9mm and took AKS-74u assault rifle. He had a full quiver. He looked like a soldier of Spetsnaz or the SAS, a scary human-being without any human looks in his eyes. He drove his way to the unknown site, it was full of bizarre prisons that date back to Middle Ages, iron sharp pointed poles to impale opposers to the Ottoman regime. All of sudden, he heard a scream coming from one of the cells. They were all empty, he had to kill some guards with his silenced Beretta and walked his way to the location. In one of the rooms, Zain saw a man who was bleeding all over himself, Zain asked, “Who was it? Who did this to you?”, “Sakharov”, he answered. “He wanted my research for Project Koroleva”. Zain went out of the room and kept investigating. Out of a bad luck the guards were alarmed as a consequence that one of the guards saw him. They started shooting at him. He took cover, cocked his rifle and the war started. After he illuminated them, he saw the scientist called George Cranwell, Piotr Sakharov was yelling at him. “What is the password of the USB drive?”, they struck him with electricity to cause pain. “Stop!!”, said Cranwell, “I will tell you”. He whispered in Sakharov’s ear. Sakharov whispered to the guards; they took Cranwell to the pole for impalement. Zain saw the brutality of the sight as the pole entered his anus and went out of his skull. What a ghastly sight! Later Sakharov’s phone rang, it was an anonymous phone call. All of which Zain heard was, “Take care of Alexander Vladimirovich”. Zain threw a hand grenade among the guards, and blast. Some of them were torn, others

wounded and the shrapnel cut Mr. Sakharov. As his bodyguard took him to safety, Zain spent a lot of his time setting traps and shooting the fire out of them. As a consequence of their death. Zain cocked his pistol and started looking for Mr. Sakharov as he got closer to them in one of the cells, the bodyguard lifted him above his shoulders and tossed him to the ground, which caused a mild shell-shock. Agent Zain, staggered up to his feet, standing on his pain and slim body compared to the mule’s body. The hand-to-hand combat began. Agent Zain punched his face with his fists, jabs, cross-jabs, hooks and upper-cuts. The bodyguard, kicked him on the knee, which led to Zain’s fall. Still, he had no sense of giving up inside his brain and heart. Zain did a front kick to his skull, flying- round house, hook and sidekicks. He hurt him. It was the moment Zain realized that he was only a man, not a machine. The fight lasted for 15 minutes until Zain picked his Beretta from the floor and shot him between the eyes. When Asset Zain reached Sakharov, he pointed his pistol at him and said, “I’m afraid that you don’t have any assistance now, there is no one to do your dirty work on your behalf”. “There’s only you and me”. Agent Zain asked him, “Why do you want to kill Alexander Vladimirovich? And who is he?” Sakharov swallowed the Cyndie pill to preserve his secret intel added to that he wanted to assure that no single word be told about his employer out of fear and scare. Now agent Zain swore and got a bit angry and confused. So, all that is left for him to go behind Alexander Vladimirovich. Hence, he started searching his personal effects, phones, lap-tops, tabs and personal computers, and informed the Information Branch to find leads about Alexander Vladimirovich. They told Agent Zain that he is staying at the Nevsky Forum Hotel in St. Petersburg. Then he phoned him, Vladimirovich said, “Da?!”, “Brigadier Vladimirovich, this is Zain Ibrahim calling from the Interpol.”, “To what I owe the pleasure of this phone call Zain?”, He said. Zain asked, “Why did low level gangster Piotr Sakharov want you dead?”, “I think you and I better have a drink and talk.”, he answered. “Are you suggesting an alliance?”, Zain asked. Vladimirovich said, “Meet me at the hotel called Nevsky, come alone”. Asset Zain booked himself a flight to St. Petersburg. It was a tedious journey that lasted 10 hours inside then airplane. When the flight was over, he took a taxi to his hotel. He met him at the reception desk, he worked for the FSB (Federal Security Bureau), very wise and judicious in his late 50. He greeted him boisterously. Zain asked him, “tell me brigadier, why did Piotr say that he would have you killed? And who do you suspect?”. Vladimirovich smiled to him and said, “You got yourself stuck in a very critical situation, you will be facing a very nasty human being, a rogue KGB major. His name is Alec Rastislav. Rastislav was a psychiatrist and joined the KGB out of a proclaimed devotion to mother Russia. He was a liar for he was exploiting his positions to kill people under his command without the state’s knowledge. He was also stealing millions of dollars and robles to fund his operations. What Russia didn’t know how he could make the world’s worst killers and assassins. All that they know that he was corrupt to the bones, so were his manners”. Zain asked Vladimirovich, “Do you know how we can find him?”, “Well!”, he exclaimed, “We received information that he is treating psychotic and schizophrenic illnesses at his under-water clinic in Banana Beach, Thailand, it is also heavily guarded and secluded of outer influences, except the ravishing underwater corals and reefs, fish and other sea creatures.” Zain said, “We should take a closer look at that clinic”. Vladimirovich added, “Nobody knows how he turns people to killers, after investigating and interrogating them, their memories were wiped out, and seeing things nobody could see, and also hear voices that nobody knew where they’re coming from”, Zain exclaimed, “That’s odd! I would suggest that we

devise a plan to find out how he turns those patients to killing machines.”, Vladimirovich replied, “I will set you an appointment with the doctor”. “Fine then, tell him that you have a janitor for him who cleans up the filth, or a male servant.”, Vladimirovich replied, “Done”. Agent Zain booked himself a flight to Thailand. It was an amazing city, anyhow he didn’t find the link of how serial killers are programmed to cause the maximum number of deaths from such a lovely geographic spot. What was the sort of treatment used for such proclaimed mental illnesses? When he arrived, he checked in a hotel near Banana beach. It was called Le Meridien Phuket Beach Resort. He later took a shower after swimming and diving, had lunch, and went to the clinic via a driver of Alec Rastislav. It was breathtaking journey because the streets, buildings and trees sights were very beautiful. Later the underwater tunnel that is made of glass to see the bottom of the sea while going to a clinic was ravishing. When he arrived, he met his assistant who was a fellow doctor, his name was Sergei. He took him to his room, on his way, he saw cellars from which someone was screaming “Allah Akbar”, “Death to the enemies of Islam. Death to the infidels and disbelievers. Islam should rule the universe”. The second cellar someone was saying, “Lord Jesus, God, I will defend your land with my blood. Muslims have stolen our homes, jobs and raped our women, hence I will kill all of them”. Zain was wondering what the hell was that, he couldn’t find that out. He asserted that Alec Rastislav was programming people with mental illnesses to cause death. It was MK-Ultra. During the cold war between the USSR and the USA. Both KGB and the CIA used MK-Ultra to win the war against each other by creating killers of the worst kind. They were deprived of their senses, logic and wisdom, they saw nothing except the people they are supposed to take away his life. This program was used against politicians and people. Firstly, they do them electroconvulsive therapy without anesthesia. Later they drug them with LSD, a psychedelic which cause them hallucinations. Hence, he goes behind his target to take away his life. As Asset Zain was disguising as a worker to Rastislav’s office, a pistol pumped against his skull and turned him unconscious. He woke up to find himself tied to a metal bed so that Mr. Rastislav enjoys his sadistic frivolous self. “Good evening Agent Zain, you have been recognized”, he said. The metal bed was electrified, Zain could feel all his body while he was tied. As Rastislav was about to talk to Zain, he turned off the electric shocks. He started explaining his motives behind such evil, unhuman ruthless plot. “I have worked for the KGB rising to the rank of Major. I built my own kingdom, out of blackmail, robbery, fool and deception. I have created my mental health clinic for the following reason”, “The environment is under threat, especially animals due to hunting. I want to preserve those animals from extinction. And I will do whatever it takes to save this planet. I have programmed people in three categories. The first one is composed of fanatic Muslims thinking Allah is telling them to go slaughter the Jews and crusaders. The other is a group of fanatic Christians who have an urge to defend their lands against immigrants’ invasion. The last one is the one that will cause a pandemic under the name Project Koroleva. They are about to use an atomizer to release a deadly virus in a reservoir I’m going to build, after I turn the water pipes to it. I can guarantee that the virus Koroleva will kill as many as possible”. Zain laughed, “The three groups of sick people will make you eradicate the human race then”, “Yes exactly”, he replied. Later, the electricity was connected again to his body. Zain spent all the night screaming, and dropped in his cell. He woke shaking and bleeding because they wounded him. As he sat gazing at the ceiling, there is no one to rescue him, he started praying that Jesus save him from those devils. He was crying because he will be

executed, and that he failed to take down the bastard. All of a sudden, fire of rifles banged inside the clinic between Rastislav’s guards and Spetsnaz forces. They stormed into his room, they were all in black uniforms and masked. Spetsnaz and Alexander Vladimirovich captured the two fanatic groups and were loaded in trucks. The biological team was on his own. He took assault AKS-74u and started chasing them. They were armed as well and were captured. They were caught by army’s road blocks and spike strip that deflated the tiers. The gangsters have chosen death over giving up. Zain, was shooting them with his rifle, and snipers took care of the rest and their atomizers captured. Later Alexander Vladimirovich told Asset Zain that he is grateful for his participation in capturing a former KGB and an FSB rouge agent. I replied “He was an enemy to my country”, “The proverb says my enemy’s enemy is my friend”. After finishing the three missions, Agent Zain called the Information Branch, Zain asked them whether they found any link to Phantom, especially that they scanned all their devices, phones and emails. They said that they are still looking for a name. Seconds later, C called Zain and told him that the foreign secretary wants to see you personally. Later Zain took a car and drove to the foreign secretary’s house, and got out of the car. He saluted him boisterously and started talking about his missions. Zain expressed his anger and dissatisfaction about the fact that there was someone from inside the country with a very high rank exposing him and blowing his cover. Suddenly, Zain’s phone rang, it was a message confirming that the foreign secretary was the one funding Phantom and its chief. The guards cocked and pointed their guns at his head, right between his eyes and told him not to move, took him to the upper floor and sat him on a chair. The minister started talking, “I was so amused by the way you handed the three operations Zain, but I’m sick of remaining in this country and disgusted to the full. I want to live somewhere hot close to the beach, I also want to date models and porn stars. I want to fulfill my desire by sexual tourism. I want to sleep with white, brunette, redhead women and teenagers”. As Asset Zain was listening to him and seeing how primitive that person was, he noticed an open window that shows the wide sea right beneath the sun. Zain saw a red dot on the minister’s chest. He smiled to the minister and said, “I think this is the last smile you will have”. Bang! Three bullets killed the minister. It was a SAS boat with an installed sniper on it. After that, they stormed into the villa and killed all the guards. When that was over, TV news reports revealed that the foreign minister died of a heart attack. Otherwise, his country will be a laughing stock in the intelligence community.

Last Journey

Agent Zain was standing in front of C in his office. He said, “You are a brilliant field operative, I wanted to inform you that you have become an officer. Congratulations! You can take a year holiday.”, “Thank you Sir. That means a lot to me”. As Zain got out of the building, he booked himself a flight to Alaska, simply because everything was snow white. There was nothing but ice and the -30 degrees cold lakes and sea. As Zain got closer to one of them, he took of his clothes so that the cold which cracks the bones will make him forget many things. First, the people who bullied him at school. Second, the fact that he had a stubborn mental illness from university professors who were bigots. Third, the reality that he had no woman or a girl to love him, and that he spent lots of money on filthy bitches who have no resemblance of a bloody female. He had chosen to serve his country and give up many things for this cause. Finally, he plunged into the icy water and gave his memories the last goodbye. The underwater world ravished him. For him, that was Paradise.

The End

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Be My Muse [2/2]

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Peggy (mentioned)

Summary: Modern AU. This part involves blind dates and fluffy confessions.

Warnings: Implied/mentioned smut. Language.

Notes: Part 2 for my entry into @just-some-drabbles‘ writing challenge.

[Part 1]

My Masterlist 

“I don’t want to go!” you whine petulantly.

You’re sat at your dressing table, Wanda standing behind you as she arranges your hair into a stylish updo. Natasha is perched on the table in front of you, helping you apply your blush and highlighter, whilst Peggy — in true Peggy fashion — is lying on the bed, contributing to the conversation every now and then.

“Really, Y/N, what’s the worst that could happen?” Natasha chides, dusting the makeup brush over your cheekbones.

“That the guy could be an asshole and this could go down as one of the worst dates in history?” you suggest.

“Actually, I think the worst date scenario is that the guy turns out to be rapist, or a serial killer, or something,” Wanda says solemnly, twisting another lock of hair over your ear and pinning it in place.

“And you remember what to do if he does turn out to be a rapist, don’t you?” Natasha asks, setting her brushes down and picking up a tube of red lipstick.

“I remember,” you sigh, “None of you are helping me calm my nerves, by the way,”.

“Y/N, I think you’re overthinking this,” Peggy pipes up, “I mean, really, this is Steve’s best friend, d’you honestly think he’s going to be so bad?”

“I dunno,” you sigh, “I guess not,”. Peggy has been talking to Steve almost non-stop since getting his number, and has told you countless times how nice he is. Steve speaks highly of this Bucky person, and you’re disinclined to think that he would lie about something like that. Ergo, Bucky must actually be a great guy.

“There. Done,” Natasha says, leaning back and tilting your chin up to examine her handiwork. “You look stunning, darlin’,”, she drawls.

“I agree,” Wanda says, finishing your hair off with a light mist of hairspray. “Whoever Bucky is, he’ll not be able to take his eyes off you,”.

“Thanks girls,” you murmur, standing up to admire yourself in the full length mirror by your bedroom door. “Wow,” you breathe, taking in the sight. This morning, the girls had helped you pick out a knee-length burgundy dress from a little boutique near your apartment. The dress accentuates your shoulders and collarbones in a most captivating manner, and the material hugs your body in all the right places, smoothing out your curves. You’ve paired it with simple gold jewellery and nude heels, wanting to keep the look simplistic, refined and elegant. Wanda and Nat have done an amazing job on hair and makeup, highlighting your natural beauty, without detracting or distracting from it.

Whoever Bucky is, he’ll certainly get some eye-candy tonight.

“So Steve says that Bucky’s going to be wearing all black,” Peggy says, coming to stand beside you. “Shirt, trousers, tie, everything. Can’t miss it. When you get there, just ask for reservation under Barnes,”.

“Got it,” you say absentmindedly, as you adjust the length of your delicate necklace.  

“I’ll be staying at their place tonight,” Wanda tells you, cocking her head in Nat’s direction. “Y’know. Just in case,” she adds, winking knowingly at you.

“Oh my god,” you groan, “You don’t have to, it’s not gonna come to that,”.

“Uh-huh,” Natasha mutters, crossing her arms. “I’ll believe it when I see it,”.

Your gaze drifts over to the clock beside your bed. “I should get going,” you say when you take note of the time, hastily grabbing your purse from your bed before heading out the door.

“Have fun!” Peggy calls

“Use a condom!” Nat adds.

You bark out a breathless laugh. “Will do!” you shout back, more to the first statement than the second, because the likelihood of that being necessary is little to none.

——————

When you get to the restaurant, you take a deep, steadying breath before pushing the door open.

“Good evening, madam,” says the maître d’, a kind-looking man who’s name tag says Scott, “How may I help you?”

“I have a reservation under Barnes,” you reply. He nods, checks the list, then makes a pleased humming noise. “Right this way,” he says, gesturing for you to follow.

You’ve never been to this particular Thai restaurant, though you’ve passed it several times on your way home from work. It’s fairly new, and by the looks of it, fairly popular, as nearly every table is full, giving the place a warm buzz of conversation. The fragrant smells of chilli, coconut and lime linger in the air, and every dish you catch sight of is presented elegantly. Scott weaves expertly through the narrow spaces between tables, leading you to the back of the room. He stops beside a table for two in the corner, where a man in an all black outfit is sitting, head bent over a menu.

Your heart stops.

That hair. That profile.

“James?” you ask in disbelief. His head whips up in surprise and his eyes widen, a glimmer of excitement shining in them.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, stunned into silence.

“Y/N,” James breathes.

Hurriedly, you sink into the chair opposite him and pull your menu closer. “Oh my god. You’re Bucky?” you ask, still trying to wrap your head around this revelation.

James — Bucky? — smiles ruefully. “It’s a nickname,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. You note, once more, how his left hand has a leather glove on it. “Mostly it’s just Steve that uses it. My real name is James Buchanan Barnes,”.

“Oh,” you murmur, “So which one would you like me to use?”

“Bucky,” he says immediately, “I only let special people use it,”.

Your heart flutters excitedly at that. “I can’t believe it’s you!” you exclaim, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your hand. “I mean—I wish I’d given you my number, but—,”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs, “I kinda wished that too,”. He tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing for a second. “Not the, I wish you’d given me your number—wait, I meant—ugh that came out wrong—of course I’d like that, but—I wish I’d given you my—,”.

“Bucky, I get it,” you soothe, interrupting him when you sense that he’s working himself into a frenzy. Bucky flushes, embarrassed at having gotten so flustered by your presence. “Let’s order first, shall we?” you suggest.

——————

“So you’re a writer, huh?”, you ask, once the waiter has taken your orders and cleared away your drinks.

Bucky grimaces, “Supposed to be one,”.

“How’s that writer’s block going?”

“Not moving anywhere,”, he sighs, scrubbing one hand over his face as he leans back into his seat. “It’s nothing something I can just…move. I’m either inspired or I’m not. There’s no in-between,”.

“Sorry about that,” you murmur, sensing that this is a touchy subject for him.

“Don’t be,”, Bucky replies, quirking his mouth into a lopsided grin. “S’not your fault,”.

You hum in agreement. Then, deciding to change tactics, slightly, you ask, “What kind of books do you write? I don’t recall hearing the name James Barnes anywhere,”.

Bucky hesitates, fiddling with his cutlery for a second. “I…write under a pseud, actually,”, he admits.

Your eyes widen in interest. “A pseudonym? That’s cool! What is it?”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “No. Not telling,”

“C’mon, please?” you whine. “You can’t leave me hanging! I wanna know,” you beg, drawing out the last word.

He huffs out a breath of air. “Fine. You’re gonna find it so dorky. It’s the Winter Soldier,”.

If your jaw could hit the floor, it would’ve. “The Winter Soldier? As in, the man who wrote the Howling Commandos?” you ask, mouth still gaping in utter disbelief.

“That’s me,” Bucky confirms, lips curling into a broader smile. “You’ve read it?”

You snort at the tentative hopefulness in his voice. “Who hasn’t?” you scoff, “That thing is a masterpiece! I’ve only read it about a hundred times,”.

“Only a hundred?” he quips, eyes glimmering with amusement, “I’m offended, doll,”.

You try to ignore the exhilarated flip in your stomach when you hear the pet name. “I’ve read all your other works too,” you gush, “Hydra was amazing, and so was Azzano, and Civil War, oh my god—oh, sorry, does this freak you out?” you ask, breaking off when you see the painfully apparent discomfort in his features.

Bucky shakes his head and laughs mirthlessly. “I—it’s kinda hard for me to talk about my writing,” he confesses, “I’ve…I haven’t written properly for a few months now, and thinking about it just makes me feel like a failure,”. A sympathetic twinge of pain shoots through your heart when you see his crestfallen expression.

“Hey,” you say softly, instinctively reaching across the table to touch his hand. It’s the gloved one, and, though he flinches, he doesn’t pull away. “You’re not a failure. So what if you’re taking a while to get inspiration? I’ve been trying to save up for my bakery for the last three years and I still only have half the amount I need. You just gotta keep trying. I believe in you,”.

Bucky smiles, bright and beautiful at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but the waiter comes by again, setting your dishes down in front of you. When he’s gone, Bucky murmurs a quiet, grateful, “Thank you,”.

“No problem,” you reply, picking up your spoon and preparing to dig into what is undoubtedly the most enticing-looking pineapple fried rice you’ve ever set eyes on. “I’m being serious, though. If it makes you feel any better, you’re writing is so…emotive. Your characters are always so complex, and the plot development, the prose…everything, it’s—impeccable. Unlike anything I’ve ever read,”.

He smiles shyly, ducking his head down to hide the blush colouring his cheeks at your praise. “What’s your favourite thing that I’ve written?” Bucky asks quietly.

You pause, thinking about your response. You chew your mouthful slowly, swallow and take a sip of water before answering. “I think it’s got to be Captain America,” you reply. “I mean, everything about it, the self-sacrifice, the relationship between him and his best friend, the sensitive treatment of PTSD, I just—it took my breath away,”.

“Really?” Bucky asks, “My first book? Surely my writing’s gotten better—,”

“It has,” you assure him, “Really, it has, but…I dunno. Something about the plot and the characters just connects with me. It’s a stunning piece of literature,”.

“Wow,” Bucky chuckles, taking another forkful of his curry. “I signed up for a blind date, and I got this wonderful pep talk instead,”.

“We all need a confidence boost sometimes,” you reply easily.

“Yeah,” he murmurs absentmindedly.

You eat in companionable silence for a minute, until curiosity gets the better of you. He is one of your favourite authors, after all. “So…if you don’t mind me asking…I mean, I know you’re having a block, but…how’re things—what’re you…” your voice trails off and your hands flail about, hoping that Bucky will somehow miraculously get the idea.

He laughs. “How’s my writing going? Why did I come up with a wall?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “That,”.

Bucky hums thoughtfully. “It’s—the thing with my writing is that a lot of it is influenced by life experience,” he explains, “I served in the army for a while, which is why a lot of my stories are about battle and all that shit,”.

“Makes sense,” you say, taking another spoonful of your fried rice.

“Well, the thing is, I’ve wanted to branch out into…new things,” Bucky says, brows furrowed in concentration, trying to pick his words with care. “Military fiction is all well and good, but it’s not…not what I wanted to do, originally,”

“Genre-wise?” you ask.

“Yeah,”. Bucky hesitates, gnawing at his bottom lip restlessly.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wanna,” you say quickly, “You’ve told me so much already—,”

“Romance,” Bucky blurts out, looking at you with frantic, nervous eyes, “That’s—that’s what I really want to do. I’ve…” he breaks off with a brittle laugh, “I’ve always had a liking for that sort of thing. Mundane characters, doing unremarkable things. Doesn’t sound the most interesting, but I guess that’s part of the challenge, right? Making something spectacular out of something ordinary,”.

“I’d read that,” you tell him, giving him an encouraging smile. “I think you’d put a whole new twist on the romance genre. Give everyone else a run for their money,”.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky huffs. “That’ll only happen if I can get a story out. I’ve been searching for my muse for god knows how long, and I still haven’t found it yet,”

“I hope you find inspiration soon,” you say quietly.

Bucky looks at you with a funny glint in his eyes, an expression you can’t quite place. “Yeah. Me too,”.

——————

“Let me walk you home,” Bucky says, holding the door open for you.

“Thank you, Bucky, but I can get back on my own,” you reply, smiling gratefully at him as you step out onto the street.  

He huffs out a laugh and nods. “I know. The thing is, you don’t have to,” he replies, chancing a coy, sideways glance at you.

You roll your eyes and flash him an amused smirk. “I don’t sleep with men I’ve just met, James,”.

“You didn’t just meet me,” Bucky points out, “We met a couple of days ago, remember?”

You giggle, but acquiesce his request, sliding your hand around his elbow. “Alright. Fine. Walk me home, if you’re so desperate,”.

——————

His lips are sweet, chaste, tender. The kiss is everything you’ve missed about being with someone, yet so much more. Your fingers tangle in Bucky’s dark hair, and his hand — just the one, just the right — cups the back of your neck, holding you in place. His left one rests stiffly at the small of your back.

“Come upstairs with me,” you breathe, lips brushing against his with every word.

Bucky laughs quietly. “You trying to get me to sleep with you?” he teases, flicking his tongue over the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t do one night stands, James,”, you drawl, nipping his bottom lip gently.

“Neither do I, doll,” he replies.

A tense silence passes, both of you trying to figure out the other’s intentions. “So—what?” you ask hesitantly, “Is this…not happening, or are we going to be something…more permanent?”

“I’m not going to force you into anything,”, Bucky murmurs, hands coming to cup your waist, “But I know what my answer is,”.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”.

You swallow, resting your forehead against his. “I have a feeling we’re on the same wave-length, then,”.

——————

Bucky crawls over you, lip caught between his teeth and a rakish gleam in his eyes. You reach up to cup his jaw, but he’s too quick, ducking his head down to pepper your neck with whisper-soft kisses. You sigh contentedly, arching into the touch.

Your hands wander down his front, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. You tease every fresh patch of bare skin that is exposed, making him groan and hum against your neck. You’re about to push the shirt off when Bucky suddenly stills, pulling back and looking at you with a concerned expression.

“What’s wrong?”

He swallows. “I—um, need to tell you something,”

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you have an STD,” you breathe.

“No!”. Despite his nerves, he manages a dry chuckle. “No, it’s not that, I—,” he cuts himself off with a frustrated huff, running the fingers of his uncovered hand through his hair. “I was in the war. In Iraq,” Bucky says haltingly. “And…there was a grenade. And—well,”.

Instead of trying to explain it to you verbally, Bucky pulls off his leather glove, revealing a sleek, gleaming metal hand. The plates click and whirr softly as he flexes his fingers.

“Blasted the whole of my arm off,” Bucky murmurs. You can feel his eyes trained on your face. “This is a Stark invention,”. At your arched eyebrow, he nods. “Yep. The Tony Stark. Part of his prosthetics project. It’s just a prototype, but—it works, so I’m not complaining,”

You don’t reply, mutely taking in the metal appendage, in awe of it, really. Bucky takes your silence as your disapproval

“I’m sorry—I—it’s okay, if—,”

“No!” you cry, hand fisting in the front of his shirt to hold him still. “No, I’m not weirded out or anything, just curious. Can I touch it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, eyes darkening infinitesimally. He clears his throat. “Go ahead. Tony installed—not nerves, per se, but pressure and temperature sensors, so I can feel things,”.

You press a kiss to his lips, brush your thumb over his cheek, then slide your hands underneath his shirt, moving them towards his shoulders. Under your right fingers, you feel thick, ropey scars contrasting with smooth, slightly cool metal. At his nod, you slide the garment off, revealing his cybernetic arm in all its glory.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

——————

You’re utterly sated, back pressed against Bucky’s chest and legs entangled with his. Bucky’s flesh hand traces invisible patterns on your stomach, and his face is pressed into the back of your neck. The room is silent, save for the sound of your steady breaths.

“Doll?” Bucky whispers, lips grazing against your skin.

“Mmm?”

“I got this new idea for a story,”.

“Yeah?” you mumble, “Tell me about it,”.

“I think it’s going to be about…a man. An uninspired writer, feeling like the world’s closing in on him, trying to squeeze the fun outta life,”.

“Gee, sounds depressing,” you remark dryly.

“He’s suffering. No motivation, no drive, no desire to write anything. He walks into a shop one day and sees this gorgeous girl behind the counter—,”

Your breathing hitches.

“—And tries talking to her. Now she—she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever met. Kind, and funny, and humble. And it’s only ten minutes, but he finds himself falling in love with every little part of her,”.

Your heart thumps erratically behind your ribs.

“Thing is, he’s not sure how she feels about him,” Bucky continues, “He can’t stop thinking about her for the rest of the day. Later, his best friend sets him up for a blind date, and lo and behold — it’s the girl again,”.

“This storyline sounds familiar,” you mumble, forcing yourself to speak despite the parched sensation in your throat.

“Mmm. I told you I take inspiration from my own life,” he replies, “Anyway, he and the girl spend the evening talking about anything and everything. Conversation flows so easily, and…from just being with her, he feels more inspired than he’s ever been in a year,”. Bucky’s voice turns quiet and breathy, almost as if he’s afraid to say this last bit. “He’s found his muse, but he’s terrified that she’s going to run,”.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, interlacing your fingers with his own. “I think that’s going to be a great story, Bucky,” you whisper, hoping against all hope that his confession implies what you think it implies.

Bucky is silent for a long while after that, and, if it weren’t for the cadence of his breathing, you’d think that he might’ve fallen asleep. “I don’t know how it ends, though. Will they have a happy ending?”

His tone is simultaneously hopeful and afraid, and it’s doing all sorts of things to your over-excited heart. You twist in his arms so that you can look at Bucky properly. “I hope so,” you say softly, cupping his cheek with your hand. Bucky leans into the touch, catching your wrist and holding it in place as he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“Will you stay?” Bucky asks, eyes glimmering with a million unspoken pleas, “Will you be my muse?”

You smile indulgently at him. “I’d like to see how this story ends,”.

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yugyeom » finally

i got the idea of doing this from reading a bed sharing AU i found on tumblr, you can find it here. i take no credit for these prompts or the gifs i use, however i do take credit for writing these stories.

mark | jaebum | jinyoung | jackson | youngjae | bambam | yugyeom title - Finally prompt - “i have constant nightmares and i've always had someone to cuddle with. now, i realize we're not on that level but you're the only one here and i'm really scared to go to sleep.” pairing - kim yugyeom/fem!reader tags - drinking, nightmares, cuddling, im honestly a sucker for soft yugyeom, I can barely write it but I love it, even though he's older than me I like to believe I have a noona kink with him, ok seriously tho, barely anY NAUGHTY TIME ENSUES, kisses, friends to lovers? More like enemies to lovers type-deal word count - 2,790 words author's note - enjoy i fucked up my eyes writing this at 2 AM you're weLCOME IT'S DONE YAAAAY!

You and BamBam went way back. Way back to your trainee days when you were both still learning Korean and you hadn't been assigned to a debuting group yet. While you didn't speak Thai, you both clicked instantly. However, out of all the GOT7 members that you'd intermingled with, you managed to get along with everyone except the group's maknae. You didn't know what it was about him that irked you so much – to the point where it made you not even want to hang out with the rest of the members.

It ruined almost every single visit you took to the dorms. On the rare occasion that Yugyeom was at practice or in the studios, you would enjoy your stay, but other than that it was a pretty short visit whenever Yugyeom was home. The members would scold him, but him being the defiant maknae he is, it'd do little to stop him from glaring at you from across the room or 'accidentally' putting his foot in your way as you were walking throughout the dorm.

And to make it worse, he saw you naked.

Yep. I didn't stutter. He had seen you naked.

You were sleeping over during a break with both of your debuting groups, just a harmless slumber party with a bunch of seven year old's in the bodies of grown men. You were in BamBam's room, which he conveniently shared with Yugyeom and you were under the impression that Yugyeom wouldn't be home for another few hours since he was held up in practice perfecting his Hit The Stage performance.Oh, how wrong you were.You were in the middle of taking a shower, the door was shut and locked because I mean, you were a smart girl – your mother taught you to always lock the door and you were in a house of six grown men, why else wouldn't you? BamBam failed to tell you that the bathroom lock was faulty at times, and sometimes didn't lock all the way ever since Jaebum had to break it down after the boys accidentally locked themselves out. (Small lesson in Korean society. A lot of the bathrooms don't have tubs or showers – in Korea, most of the time, your shower is your bathroom. There's a shower-head and a drained in floor. That was it.)

You had soap in your hair, and you were getting ready to rinse off and get out, when the door handle jingled. You were concerned for a minute before you remembered you'd locked the door. And then with another jingle to the door, it opened and there was Yugyeom – drenched from his practice, staring at you with his mouth wide open.

Buckle up your seat-belts kids, because what happened next was a wild ride from start to finish.

You, being the normal human being you were, were startled and tripped back under the spray, clasping your hands over yourself to cover the important areas, you got soap in your eyes, in your mouth and up your nose, and fell backwards, earning a pretty good sized goose egg on the back of your head.

All while he just watched in complete shock.

And that was the last time you visited the dorms. That was three months ago.

Now, here you were in front of the dorm's front door, shaking in your boots as you looked down at the text messages on your phone from BamBam.

You need to come to the dorms, (Y/N).

We miss you, a lot.Yugyeom too.

(Y/N), answer me, please...

After the copious amounts of texts from him, you'd replied with a snappy comeback.

I honestly doubt that Yugyeom misses me at all. From what it looks like he's happier without me around. Try having your most private parts shown to the guy who hates you the most. It's not something you want to come back to.

It was beyond embarrassing what had happened. You couldn't even face him at the office let alone in his own house.

Yet here you were.

Come over. Now. We're straightening all this out tonight.

That was the last message you received from him. And it didn't sound like a request.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you rang the doorbell. Not less than five seconds later did you get a response, the sound of the door unlocking before Jinyoung was revealed on the other side. Honestly, he'd changed in the last three months. Grown bigger in his muscles and his shoulders were broader than when you last saw him. The time had done him well.

Jinyoung's eyes widened, looking down at you before ushering you in quickly with a loud, “(Y/N) is here!”

You heard several curses in Korean, followed by a stampede of footsteps before you were graced with six out of the seven members in the group known as GOT7. Yugyeom, as usual, was nowhere to be found. Everyone started talking to you at once, asking how you were, where you'd been, how your group was doing and why they hadn't seen you at the office. They were all quieted down by Jackson, who pulled you into a hug, followed by BamBam and Mark, then Youngjae, then Jinyoung and Jaebum just simply grasped your shoulder in a friendly-affectionate manner. When you all broke apart, BamBam spoke.

“Listen, (Y/N),” he began, grasping you by the shoulders. “We all miss you. Even Yugyeom. He's busy with PD-nim at the studio, but he wants to be here. Just, stay the night. Please?” he said, and you sighed. Same old excuse. But you knew how hectic an idol's schedule could be. Even now, looking at all of the members and seeing how they'd changed, you figured it'd be for the best if you left all that shit in the past.

“We have movies, Soju, and take-out is on the way.” Youngjae interjected and you once again, sighed. “Okay, alright, I'll sta-” You were cut off by Jackson roaring in success, jumping around like a big dork, all excited. And then the others joined. You were just happy you'd already showered before you came.

And thus the get together began. You set down your stuff and ran the first film. It was an American film called IT, and it thankfully came with Korean subtitles so the boys could enjoy it as well. It was about a killer clown named Pennywise who lured children to his lair so he could eat them.

Knowing how easily you got nightmares, this wasn't going to be too fun. But the boys seemed to enjoy it so far, so you decided to put your childish fears of clowns aside and enjoy your time spent with them.

You were wedged between Mark and BamBam, your two closest friends out of the group – Youngjae was perched on one side of the love seat, while Jackson was laying down with his head in Youngjae's lap. Your head was on Mark's shoulder while your legs were curled up to your chest. Jinyoung and Jaebum were seated on recliners, all of us watching in suspense when the door flew open.

And you screamed very loud. Louder than any ahgases that they were used to at concerts, burying your face into BamBam's shoulder while gripping his shirt tightly in your hands. And you had every right to be scared – not because it was Pennywise the Clown coming to eat you and steal your soul, but because it was none other than Kim Yugyeom standing before you in the dim light of the television that your eyes focused on after pulling your head from BamBam's shoulder.

He looked tired. He looked like he hadn't slept in god knows how long – with his hair mussed in his face and the bags under his eyes. It didn't look like the Yugyeom you knew, always snapping and crabby with a quick wit. He was the disrespectful maknae that you knew hated your guts with every fiber of his being.

And his eyes were focused on you.

“I didn't know (Y/N) was going to be here.”

Your eyes shifted from him to BamBam, who gave you a sheepish smile and you rolled your eyes.  The room was visibly tense, you could tell even Youngjae, who was always the coolest of cucumbers – despite how much he hated them – was on edge. “I guess that makes two of us.” You mumbled quietly, looking down to your hands that were clasped tightly in your lap. “It's fine, I'll go-”

That had a chorus of negations and pleads go around the room, while Yugyeom was silent. After a while, he spoke. “Don't let me stop you from having a good time with my members. I'm going to bed.” He said it with venom in his words, practically spitting them at you before he marched off to his and BamBam's shared room, shutting the door.

You looked down at them, a small scoff leaving your lips. “Listen, he does miss you, (Y/N), he just has a lot going on right now...” Jinyoung stated and you sighed, leaning back in your seat. “Let's just finish the movie, please, I'm tired.”

No one seemed to refuse your request.

Halfway through, the takeout arrived and the smell of pizza hit your nose. You, deciding to be civil, grabbed a few slices and put it on a plate, walking to Yugyeom's door and knocking quietly.

After a few times, he answered.

And it wasn't how you expected.

His hair was disheveled, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and you'd be lying if you said your eyes didn't linger. You were a little bit younger than Yugyeom, but that didn't mean you hadn't had thoughts. Sure, he hated you, but he was attractive and you couldn't deny that. Gulping a bit, you presented the plate to him.

“T-The boys ordered pizza, I was wondering if you were hungry since you just went straight to bed-”

Yugyeom gently took the plate, “thank you,” was all he said before the door was shut in your face again.

Well, kudos to you for trying.

At least he said thank you.

You guys watched a few more movies, the Soju was drank by literally everyone but you – and honestly you could use it right about now. The members said their good-nights and went off to their rooms, all with either giving you a hug or a pat on the shoulder or a kiss on the head in departure.

And then you were alone in the dark living room after just watching four scary movies in a row. You shut your eyes tight, curling up on the couch under the blanket you were given and tried to sleep. And you did drift off only to flinch yourself awake a few hours later in a cold sweat, shaking with memories of seeing all the villains in their gory horror coming after you.

You got up from where you were on the couch, eyes shut tight still feeling along the wall until you got to the first door on the right – the only person who you knew you could go to right now, BamBam. He knew about your chronic nightmares and how scary movies affected you. However, BamBam wasn't the one who answered the door.

It was his roommate, Yugyeom.

“(Y/N), do you have any idea how late it is?” He growled tiredly, and you knew you'd just awoken the sleeping dragon. You immediately apologized, profusely over and over. Your voice was as shaky as you felt. “I-I'm s-sorry Yugyeom-ssi.. I-I had a n-nightm-mare and I thought B-BamBam was awake-” With an annoyed sigh, you were pulled into the equally dark room and the door was shut behind you. “BamBam's knocked out; he drank too much.” Yugyeom said, and you furrowed your brows as he laid down on his bed, scooting as far as he could to the wall leaving a whole lot of room.

Looking over your shoulder, it was true that BamBam was knocked out as you squinted through the darkness at him.

Dammit.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Lay down.”

He wanted you to lay in his bed with him?

Shyly, you crawled into the bed and got under the covers beside him. It felt tense, but not as much as you had earlier. Something had changed. But you couldn't pinpoint it. You felt the bed shift, and Yugyeom turned around to face you.

“(Y/N)... can I ask you something?”

Well, that was a change from the moody behavior you'd gotten from him the minute you'd met.

You rolled over on your side to face him.

“What is it?”

You heard a small sigh leave his lips before he responded. “Do you hate me because of that day..? The day I saw you, um, nak-”

You had to stop him there before your cheeks melted off from how hot they were.

“I-I'm not mad at you, Yugyeom-ssi-” This time it was him who cut you off.

“Stop with the formalities, (Y/N).”

You went quiet. The last thing you'd expected to happen tonight was have a late night heart to heart with Yugyeom. But lo' and behold, here you were. Another thing you didn't expect was for Yugyeom to grip you around your waist and pull you close to him in a hug.

Yugyeom did hugs?

You weren't aware of this, not in the slightest.

You.

Did not get the memo.

But here you were, pressed up against his bare chest as he held you.

“(Y/N)...” He breathed, and you tensed even more against him. “(Y/N), the only reason  I've been so mean to you is because I've been fighting my feelings for you... for a long time-” Your breath hitched. He felt feelings for you other than hatred?

“I don't do girls... I've been in the industry since I was a kid I never got to experiment with girls.. And now that I found one I'd liked, I felt like it was wrong. I wanted you to go away so I wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection but every time I was rude or mean or hurt you it hurt so much. Eventually I had to face facts.. I'm sorry, (Y/N)-ah..”

You were sure you'd pass out from shock or something, when it hit you.

You had feelings for him too.

It hit you like a damn truck.

“I understand if you don't feel the same- I-” his grip began to loosen when you gripped onto his wrist, stopping him from pulling away. “Wait, Yugyeom, I..” You could feel it on your tongue, you wanted to, but you were scared. What if he felt like he just wanted to be friends and he hadn't meant romantic feelings? That'd surely crush you. “Yugyeom... I-I feel the same..” You whispered, searching in the dark for his charcoal black eyes, which was instant.

“You do?” He asked, and you could hear the hope in his voice, his grip then tightened and you slowly nodded, biting your lip as he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours. “Yes, I do..” You confessed and a small sigh left his lips in relief. “Thank god-” he cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply once, twice, three times, over and over.

And you weren't complaining. You entangled your fingers in his hair, rolling over as he pulled you on top of him, but he wasn't advancing to any further activities than just kissing. He ran his hands up and down your sides where your shirt had ridden up, a hand coming up to softly caress your cheek after you'd pulled away, just staring at each other through the dark.

Small laughs left the two of your lips before a voice had cut through the dark, snapping the moment in half like a set of wooden chopsticks. It was BamBam.

“Finally.”

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