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kittyburger · 2 years ago

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One of these days I'm going to remember to post my fic chapters on tumblr on the same day as I update them on Ao3.

And hopefully that day will be today because I was just about to publish chapter 4 before realizing I hadn't done this yet. I still need to mess around with the formatting on A03 itself for chapter 4, but it is otherwise finished. :D BUT here's a very belated chapter 3.

Link to chapter 1 [X]

╰ᕦ╯( O+|+O )╰ᕤ╯

Ingo tucks his hands into his coat to keep them warm as he leans against the rocks near the entrance of the ancient quarry. The night’s chill is already fading as the pre-dawn light grows stronger, but he still feels a bit of the brisk air seep through his coat.

He and Akari had made plans the previous night to meet here before continuing towards Lord Electrode’s seat, but he had arrived extra early in the hopes of having more time to talk to her about their possible shared past.

That, and the early morning hours are prime time to travel undetected by wild pokemon as the nocturnal ones settle down and the day-dwellers are just waking up.

He takes the time while he waits to sort through his thoughts. The way Akari had responded to his unique poses and phrases the previous day made him feel like they were familiar to her as well.

And the way she interacted with her pokemon! It felt so familiar. Anticipation runs through him like a river at the thought of maybe seeing her capture a few more pokemon today. Or even better, they could battle against each other!

Lady Irida, too, had acted a little strange when informing him of Akari’s need to traverse the Coronet Highlands, especially when she suggested that he share his story with the young girl.

He really hopes today will end with more answers than questions.

Thinking back to the pokemon who wielded her flames with mastery that feels so achingly out of reach, and the man in white from his dreams the previous night leads him to wonder, could that man possibly be the same man he remembers, the one who shares his face? Or someone else close to him?

His thoughts are interrupted as he spots a figure in dark clothing lightly jogging his way, her features becoming more distinguishable as she approaches.

“Good morning Miss Akari!”

Her jog falters and she skids to a stop in surprise as if she only just then noticed him. “Ah! Ingo! I didn’t see you there!”

He feels his cheeks heat up a little at that, so he lowers the rim of his hat to hide his face. “Apologies, Miss Akari. I did not mean to spook you.”

She laughs lightly and shakes her hands in a gesture of denial. “It’s okay, Warden Ingo. I just wasn’t expecting anyone’s voice to call out so suddenly! I’ll try and be ready for it next time.”

“And I will try and let you see me first next time. But for now, are you ready to depart?”

She snaps her heels together and brings her hand up in a mock salute. “Yes sir!”

He feels his eyes crinkle at her playful gesture, but his face falls into a scowl just as fast when Meili’s voice echoes out from the entrance to the quarry beside them.

“What’s the big idea, putting back all the torches I spent ages tidying away?”

Both he and Akari turn to Meili as he walks out of the archway and up to them. Well, that’s certainly one way to sour his day. He mindlessly counters with his same argument as always, but this time Akari is determinedly holding her ground next to him. It’s a welcome change of pace, really, to have someone back him up like this. Familiar, almost, especially when she so readily rises up to Meili’s challenge to battle.

Watching her battle is a breath of fresh air and she has no problem defeating Meili’s Skuntank with a single critical hit. Impressive. Ruthless, too. While he’d never admit it out loud, seeing Meili get knocked down a peg or three was quite satisfying, especially when he leaves like a Poochyena with its tail between its legs.

Verrrrry satisfying, his mind supplies.

…where did that come from?

Determined to keep his mind on track, he turns to Akari and introduces the area and the safe places to hide from wild pokemon. He takes his warden duties and the safety of his passengers seriously, after all. He hopes the information about the quarry will be of some aid to her, or at the very least help her become more familiar with her surroundings.

He considers broaching the subject of their past as he and Akari enter the quarry together, but before he can, Volo arrives and calls out to him.

It’s a little surprising that he calls Ingo by name instead of “my best customer” or “my valued friend”; he suspects that Volo uses the platitudes on everybody, but only when interacting one-on-one so they feel special.

While he’s still unsure of his career before arriving here, that is one of the many reasons he’s sure he did not pursue a career in marketing.

It seems that word of Akari’s origins– and consequently the similarities to his own– has been going around, because Volo immediately jumps to asking him about the rift.

He reminds the merchant that he has no memories from before arriving here in Hisui, but it isn’t until he tells Volo that he doesn’t even remember his own family that it occurs to him that the man with his face probably is family. The thought fills up a space in his heart that, until now, he hardly realized was empty.

He redirects Volo’s attention to Akari to give himself more time to process that thought. Her own arrival from the rift was much more well-known, anyways.

His family… who in a family could look just like him? He’s seen a few families where the children grow to look just like a parent, but that thought doesn’t feel right. Maybe the man in white is his brother? Or a cousin? …no, brother feels more right.

He remembers a time when two young Pearl Clan siblings bombarded him with questions about his Gliscor with unguarded enthusiasm. The older one had reprimanded the younger for asking a particularly candid question. The experience had left his heart hollow in a way that he couldn’t explain at the time, but now he thinks it could be because they reminded him of his own family.

He hopes it’s not all just wishful thinking.

“...remember what you saw before you fell out of that rift? Was there anything inside?” Volo’s question pulls his attention back to the conversation. Ingo turns to better face Akari, also curious about what it might have been like.

“Maybe something…” Akari trails off, eyes going distant as she gets lost in her memories.

“Indeed!” Volo earnestly gestures with his hands in his enthusiasm at the small tidbit of information. “I did some digging and found records indicating that this space-time rift also appeared in Hisui in the distant past!”

Volo crosses his arms as he continues to speculate. “Now what kind of world do you suppose stretches out on the other side of the rift? And why has Akari fallen through to us?”

And me, but that’s a good point, he wonders. Was our arrival through the rift intentional? “I fervently hope you unravel this mystery, Volo.” And he truly, truly does. Some closure would be nice, even though the knowledge wouldn’t change much in the present for him; his priorities are still to his warden duties and his overall responsibility to assure the safety of the people of Hisui.

He makes sure to tell Volo as much, saying, “And while you investigate, sir, I’ll continue to prioritize the safety of the people living in this world. All passengers must arrive safely.”

After that, Volo bids them both farewell and it’s just him and Akari again.

Announcing their course through the quarry with an attached “Let us move with speed, but not haste!” they finally embark.

He’s grateful for the silent stone walls and the protection they provide. Like the wall of his dreams… although he gets the feeling he doesn’t need protection from the figure on the other side.

What if… what if that man really is his brother? He’s never let himself dwell on the possibility before because the hope without a destination only ever left him comfortless.

But if Akari has a connection to the other side of the rift…

“Lost in thought, Ingo?”

He blinks in surprise as he notices Akari leaning forward beside him and looking up with a curious shine in her eyes. It was quite the wonder that she could come to stand so close to him without him noticing or feeling the slightest amount of danger.

He clears his throat to give himself time to disperse the last few cobwebs from his brain. “I– yes, actually. Volo’s questions about the rift have me thinking. I know, logically, that I had a family at some point. I do not know if they were still… around when I first arrived in Hisui. But my heart tells me that my cab is a part of a whole. Somehow, I know that I am a part of a multi-car train, even if nobody in this region recognises me.”

He stops walking for a moment, knowing that this is a quieter– and therefore safer– corner of the quarry. After taking a quick glance around to check, he asks, “What about you, though? You and I arrived here in a very similar way. Do you remember your own family?”

As her steps slow to a stop, her head swivels around with her own safety check. She lets out a thoughtful hum before answering, “Yeah, kinda? It’s weird. I remember little pieces of my life before coming here, but for the life of me I can’t remember details like my phone number or my mom’s name or face. But I do remember my pokemon team, and quite a few things about pokemon in general.”

She pats the satchel on her waist. “Like, I know enough to help me work through the pokedex. Little bits of information and ideas on what foods every pokemon will enjoy.”

“But it’s weird. See–” She turns around suddenly and releases her Typhlosion from her pokeball. The fire-type takes a quick look around, prepared to fight, but is swiftly calmed when Akari begins scratching her under the chin.

“Some of the stuff I know is different, too.” She continues, “Like, I’ve been right enough times for me to know that whatever I knew before is credible, but then everything I know is brought to question when something unexpected happens. Like this little curryhead evolved with purple flames and ghost-type moves!”

Were purple flames not normal? That can’t be right… right? Were the flames he remembers– hopes he remembers– all in his head?

His thoughts are cut short by Akari’s bitter laugh. “It’s like I was only allowed to remember things that would help me finish my mission here and nothing more.” Switching from chin scritches to long, shaky strokes down the pokemon’s neck, she croaks, “I don’t even know for sure if Akari is my name, or if it was just the first name to come to mind when Professor Laventon asked for one.”

The Typhlosion must have recognized the distress in Akari’s voice, because she gently nudges the girl’s shoulder with her nose. In a warbly voice, she finishes, “It’s like my mind is a river but my memories are held behind a giant dam. Everything that comes through almost feels calculated, while everything still behind it is hidden. I know the memories are there but I can’t get to them. ”

Ingo puts his hand to his chin, considering Akari’s story; there’s definitely a lot to unload.

“It’s terrible that you have to go through that, miss Akari, though I’m glad to hear that you have been able to remember enough to thrive amongst the pokemon.”

His gaze shifts to stare past an arbitrary section of the wall, focusing instead on his inward dilemma. “I must admit, my own memory troubles are very similar to your own. Aside from my habitual practice of escorting people through this region safely, it’s no wonder Lady Irida requested I talk to you about my past while I guide you.”

Akari’s eyes widen at that. “Irida talked to you, too? I mean, it’s no secret that I came from the rift, but I didn’t know why she insisted I talk to you about where I came from until now. That was such a Scrafty move! Plus, Volo coming to ask you about it must mean that people are hearing about your own history as well.”

He tries to send her an admonishing look, but any heat behind it is broken when a short huff of a laugh escapes from his mouth alongside it. Still, back talking someone he owes so much to will not do.

He clears his throat to make sure no laughter will come from his tone before replying. “Please do keep in mind that Lady Irida is an honored and respected leader of mine. Calling her a Scrafty is not befitting of her position.”

Akari rolls her eyes at that, the serious moment broken. “It’s funny and you know it. You can’t deny she set us up to open up to each other. It’s not like Scrafty are bad, anyway.” With a smirk, she adds, “Unless you have another suggestion?”

At that, he snaps his mouth shut. She’s not wrong. Yes, Lady Irida orchestrating this is a little devious, but despite how much his leader respects the privacy of her clanmates he knows she had his wellbeing in mind. There’s a reason she is one of the few people he has confided in about how much his missing memories bother him, after all.

Akari takes his silence as her answer. “My point exactly! Now, you mentioned that your own memories are acting the same way? Let’s figure it out together, then.”

“That would be very well appreciated.” Remembering his idea from earlier, he rests his hand on Gliscor’s pokeball. “As a matter of fact, I had an idea! Once we arrive at our destination, will you battle me? Seeing you battle Meili made me nostalgic for a life where stronger trainers such as yourself are much more prevalent, and it would be exciting to have a real challenge.”

She gasps, “It’s not only me?!”

Typhlosion startles a little at her sudden excitement, so she takes a moment to soothe her pokemon before finishing the thought in a softer voice. ”I would love to. Did you do much battling at home? I don’t think many people did a whole lot beyond completing the gym challenges as a kid.”

The new information makes him pause. It wasn’t normal to battle all the time? Even if he lacked the context and memory of what he had before, the severe lack of battles against other trainers here in Hisui compared to what he expected had been distinct.

“I… I am unsure. I thought it was normal to battle much more frequently.” He lowers his eyes in thought. “Although, thinking about all of the professions that must be filled, it makes sense that not everybody would do so. Everyone has their own work stations to attend, after all. I only wish I could remember what mine was.”

She lets out a thoughtful hum at that. “The whole process of receiving stars through the Galaxy Team reminded me of a system back home where strong trainers would battle you and give you badges as a reward. Maybe you were one of those trainers? They got to battle pretty much all the time!”

The idea is familiar, but it doesn’t settle in him the same way his few previous memories have.

It’s not like he can think of any other profession where one would get to battle so often, though, so instead he brings the conversation back to what they do know. “If nothing else, I am sure Lady Sneasler will be impressed with your skills. We are counting on her to provide the transit you will need to arrive at Lord Electrode’s seat safely, after all.”

An inscrutable emotion clouds her features. “And everyone’s counting on me to fix this.”

Ingo is reminded of how shocked he was at the ruthlessness of this world when he first arrived, and his horror when he discovered how quickly children– all children– had to grow up in order for the clans to survive.

He swallows down his disgust as he realizes how numb he has become to that feeling. Resolving to at least ease the burden of the child in front of him, he reminds her of one thing he knows will cheer her up. “Regardless of what happens after, I have no doubt our battle will be a formidable one. One strong trainer against another.”

He must have said the right thing because she grins– a bright, real grin– and her eyes sparkle with excitement, the light in them stark against the dim ambiance of the stone walls. “I can’t wait!”

#submas #submas au #submas dreamshare au #submas dreamshare fic #submas fic #my works #my fanfiction

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writerfae · 2 years ago

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Yes, please tell me more about your story! What do you mean about frozen 2 lining up with Henry and Aiden? I've seen the beginning of Frozen 2, but never finished it, so I'm curious about this.

As for me, I have a new-ish WIP that I've described as "Six of Crows meets a DnD campaign", and I'm really excited about it, hoping that I can get it somewhat put together and actually go somewhere with it.

~Morri🗡 (@memento-morri-writes)

@memento-morri-writes

Hello there :D I’m sorry for the belated reply, I was suddenly too tired to write coherent sentences yesterday 🙈

Well my Frozen 2 parallel is less of a plot thing but rather the sibling dynamic of Anna and Elsa somewhat matching with that of Aiden and Henry. Which is due to the fact that Elsa and Henry do have similarities, in a way. Which shows in both Frozen movies, btw.

Both Elsa and Henry are the eldest child who want to protect their younger sibling by hiding their true identity from them (which kinda backfires in both cases if we’re honest).

While Henry doesn’t have a strong magic like Elsa does, his secret is that he’s a fae (which means he kind of has magic but let’s ignore that for a second). Henry also doesn’t isolate himself from Aiden completely, but one day he leaves him alone still by going to the faerie realm.

But both are very unhappy with their situation and finally escape it, but not without having to leave behind their siblings. Who are both stubborn and trying to get their older sibling back.

I always joke that Into the unknown is the perfect song for Henry, because after his mother dies all he really wants is to go and find a place he belongs to and hopefully an answer to his questions.

And maybe the song really does fit perfectly, because I think it really shows all that restlessness and longing both characters have. I’m not gonna overanalyze frozen 2, but the search for your true self is a strong theme there I think and that just fits with Henry as well.

And Aiden would go the same length for his brother that Anna goes for her sister. He’s someone who just wants to be loved and to be happy and he hates that his own brother has secrets he keeps from him. Aiden is braver than most others, but he’s not aware of it, instead he’s looking for his brother’s guidance.

And I’m having a hard time to explain it, but this unconditional yet complicated relationship between siblings is portrayed in the movie and bits of it you can find in my story as well. It’s the dynamic of the dreamer and the wild one that reminds me of my boys too.

I feel like I did a bad job explaining this, I’m sorry 🙈

But since we’re already at the topic of Henry and Aiden and you asked to know some more about my story I offer you three cute brother facts and one (tiny) spoiler! To make up for it

Three facts:

Aiden doesn’t know that his brother is a fae. But when he was still little, so little he can’t remember it anymore, Henry would use small magic tricks to entertain his baby brother

the two were taught a lullaby by their mother and whenever one of them was feeling down they would (cuddle up and) sing it together as kids. Both still sing the song to themselves when they need to calm their nerves and both think of the other when they do

Henry has that special ability to calm his own heartbeat and calm others through that and when Aiden was a baby Henry used it to rock him to sleep whenever he woke up upset so that he wouldn’t wake their parents

Aaannd a spoiler:

I recently made the decision that the villains will offer Aiden to join them and save his own life by sacrificing his brother (they had a fight and Morena knows that), but though he’s mad and disappointed in Henry at this point of course he refuses. Even more so, since he knows then that one of them has to die, he decides that that person will be him.

Oh and that wip of yours sounds very exciting! Right up my alley! I’d definitely love to know more if you ever feel like talking about it ^^ I wish you all the best for working on it!

Thanks for your ask :)

#chatter <3 #i should also like mention that this was completely unintentional and I only noticed afterwards 🙈

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allthatglittersisnotgoldrush · 3 years ago

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HELLO!!! I can’t believe it took me my 2nd rereading of the series to realise you guys had an official Tumblr, but I’m just here to gush over how much I adore this AU! It has to be HANDS DOWN my favourite rendition of Silm fanwork— I looked forward to working my way through all 400+ fics during a rather tough month every night, so it was serious comfort content for me!! There’s really nothing else like it 💓

The amount of research, planning and depth that goes into each piece just never fails to astound me. I especially adore the spotlight you give to characters like Gwindor (what a guy), Caranthir, Estrela/Arien— and truth be told sometimes I forget characters like Sticks aren’t in the canon verse lmao. And! Seeing Melian’s Chinese culture written in the Doriath fics was a pleasant surprise too; it really resonated in a personal way with me that I’ve never seen explored in any other way before so that’s just one of the countless things that make you guys’ AU so goshdarn *special*

Plus I could rave for HOURS about just how beautifully complex Maedhros is (and continues to be… Pharmakós! Pharmakós!) as the AU’s gem (best booooyy), or all the intertwining character relationships... I am speechless. Literally. maybe for the best bc asks probably have word limits but I DIGRESS

I look forward to each and every update, and I’m so SO excited to see what lies in store!!! I’m slowly but steadily sorting my way through this blog but if you don’t mind me asking, do you guys have any canon designs of the cast? I would love to do fanart if I can find the time but am also TERRIFIED of inaccuracies, so I hope you don’t mind me asking! Still, keep up the brilliant work and thank you again for this absolute blessing to the Silm fandom 💓

That you are rereading the AU MULTIPLE times is simply the best compliment we could ever receive. Hopefully our next 400+ fics get you through the next ten years or however long it takes us. Every comment and kudos and bookmark are noted and appreciated.

Also, can we congratulate you on flawless taste in characters? Estrela and Caranthir and Gwindor are among our author-favorites to write for, especially since our adaptations of them feel so personally developed at this point. It's hard to remember sometimes that Estrela is the literal sun in Tolkien canon, or that Gwindor and Maedhros were never friends.

As for Maedhros, it seems fair to say that he's the central character, the primary protagonist of this retelling, and we strive to make him interesting and tragic and funny and poignant and [very hot] and so, yes, a gem. Thank you for loving him! Not a day goes by in the authorial groupchat when we're not talking about him. For a while his physical action necessarily stagnated because of his injuries, but we did our best to keep his character growth forward-moving, and use the time (ahh, The Healing Year, was it like half the AU or something? :D) to develop many relationships that were set up early on.

Now, for an apology that this reply is so belated: you asked if we had canon designs for the cast...please don't be terrified to make your own fanart! We are so honored when anyone creates anything, and you're welcome to draw as much or as little on the descriptions in our fics when doing so. If you go through the fanart tag on the blog, you can see the variety of interpretations that other generous fans have shared.

Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and this lovely long ask. Promise we'll be seeing more of Melian's Chinese culture in Pharmakos! Happy reading :)

(PS- Mythopoeia here to add on that yes, please!!! Feel free to draw all characters however you imagine them, it is so much fun for us as writers to see how readers see what we have written! If, however, you still do want any additional specific information about specific characters, feel free to send more queries and we shall answer as best we can, with the caveat that even from each of us three some descriptions could be slightly different—we don’t coordinate as much on physical descriptions of people as you might think, beyond generally having the same vibes I guess, haha. Best example of us working together to give “canon” description reference to an artist is the beautiful painting of Maedhros, Estrela, and Gwindor that@arlenianchronicles made last year :) Basically just have fun with what we have made and we are honored by anything and everything you do! Thanks again for reading and for sending such an amazing response, truly a highlight of the whole month for us!)

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4kominato · 3 years ago

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happy belated birthday to the best shishou, Chris! yes I know... its sh*tty... I really liked this idea but it turns out pharmacy school has worn down my brain enough that idk how to write anymore T-T ~kuri

Pairing: GN!Reader x Chris Yuu Takigawa

[gender neutral, but shorter than Chris]

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,532

Everything was perfect. You had the decorations up, balloons inflated and streamers hung; all there was left was to wait for the cake to finish baking and your birthday surprise would’ve been complete… but no, your cat seemed to have other plans. After stepping into your bedroom for just a few minutes to pretty yourself up, you came back to see the streamers tattered and ripped off the walls, the balloons were floating on the ceiling with the ribbons gnawed off, and all the other decorations were either on the floor or had obvious bite marks in them.

“Kuro!” you grunted angrily, storming through the living room to find the mischievous furball, but it was to no avail; he was the king of hide-and-seek.

The decorations… my hard work… you moped to yourself slumping onto the couch, Chris is gonna be here any minute now… You hardly got to sulk about your loss when you were suddenly hit by a whiff of something unpleasant coming from the kitchen. “The cake!” Leaping out of your seat from the couch, you ran towards the oven in hopes that maybe it could still be salvaged, but once you caught a glimpse of the velvety black layer encrusting the top of the confection, you knew it was game over.

“Oh my god, literally everything is ruined!” you whined as you sunk down onto the cold tile floor, hugging your knees to your chest on the verge of tears. Chris always put nice things together for you for your past birthdays and events, so for once you wanted to do the same for him, but of course, you could never get on his level. You couldn’t even be surprised, it was always like this with him.

The knock at the front door made your heart sink into your stomach. Of course, you wanted to see Chris and spend quality time with him, but it was shameful for him to see your failure. How did he still love you anyways when all you did was mess everything up? Regardless of your embarrassment, you forced yourself up to answer the door, as to not leave the guest of honor waiting.

“Happy birthday…” you stated very lackluster, unable to even look Chris in the eyes.

“Doesn’t seem like a very happy birthday,” he replied as he removed his shoes and made his way inside, “What’s wrong?”

“Just look at the living room… everything is ruined,” you groaned, burying your face in his chest, “I even burnt your cake because I was running around the house trying to scold Kuro.”

“Oh, I thought you tore down all the decorations yourself because you got angry,” he joked as he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.

“Shut up,” you mumbled against him, to which he let out a soft chuckle.

“You don’t have to do all this for me, you know. Just spending time with you is enough,” he reassured, stroking his fingers gently through your hair.

“But I wanted to! You always do nice things for me, so for once I wanted to do something nice for you…”

“You did do something nice for me. Kuro was just upset that you didn’t let him contribute,” he assured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Thank you.”

“For what? I have nothing to present…” you sniffled, the tears you'd suppressed starting to well up in your eyes.

“For your effort, and for thinking of me,” he smiled, pulling away slightly to wipe the tears from under your eyes, “It means a lot.”

“You’re just being nice… there’s nothing to appreciate about this chaotic mess…”

“There is. None of this was even necessary, but you did it anyway because you wanted to make my birthday special, and well… you succeeded. I will definitely remember this chaotic mess even after we’re married.”

“Chris!” you whined, but at the same time you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. Even though your plans didn’t go smoothly or as planned, it did leave a lasting impression, and would definitely be a laughable memory down the road.

“Tell you what, I’ll help you clean this up, and then afterward, we can bake a new cake together if you still have enough supplies. Sound good?”

“Mhm,” you agreed with a sniffle, wiping away the remaining stray tears.

“Smile,” Chris spoke serenely before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “I want to see you happy for my birthday.” Of course, you couldn’t help but smile at such a wholesome request, and he returned the gesture.

Just as he’d said earlier, Chris helped you clean the living room which actually didn’t take long at all, and soon enough, the two of you were working on baking a new cake.

“Do you know what my favorite type of cake is?” Chris asked as the two of you gathered ingredients from the various cabinets in the kitchen.

“Chocolate… right?” you answered, holding up the cocoa powder simultaneously.

“Yeah, but what kind?”

“Uh… I don’t know, what?”

“Chocolate lava cake. I like that it has chocolate on the inside.”

“I don’t know how to make that?!” you exclaim a little louder than you intended, but Chris didn’t seem to mind.

“I know how to make it,” he grinned excitedly, “But we need real chocolate and a cupcake pan.”

“I have a cupcake pan, but as for the chocolate… I might have some chocolate chips somewhere…? I’m not sure though.”

“Found it,” Chris replied not even a moment after, pulling the bag out of one of the upper cabinets.

“Oh, perfect! Alright, you have to tell me what to do. I obviously can’t bake to save my life,” you joked, grabbing your large mixing bowl from the drying rack.

“Melt the chocolate chips together with butter. I’ll prepare the eggs in a different bowl.”

“How long?”

“Do increments of 10 seconds and mix in between,” he answered as he effortlessly cracked the eggs.

“Okay,” you replied and did as he said until the chocolate and butter mixture reached a smooth, creamy texture. “Is this good?” Looking into the bowl, he stuck a finger in to seemingly taste sample the mixture, but to your surprise, he swatched it onto your nose instead.

“Chris!” you gasped and did the same to him, to which he only let out a low chuckle.

“It’s good,” he finally answered, taking another fingerful to actually eat this time. “Now, put it in with the eggs,” he directed, steadying the bowl for you so you could scrape the chocolate into the egg bowl, using the mixing spoon.

“Does this thing not use flour or something?” you questioned as you mixed the batter together.

“The flour goes in last after you finish mixing that.”

While you finished up the last few stirs, Chris measured the flour out for you to add to the batter, and then he mixed for the final stretch since he could tell your arm was getting tired. Pouring the batter into the pan was a tragedy… for you at least, having dripped multiple globs of it on the flat parts of the pan, all over the kitchen counter, and even a little on Chris. You hadn’t even gotten through half the cups when you decided to hand it over to Chris to pour the rest. Despite the mess, the two of you enjoyed yourselves and cleaned up while the cakes baked in the oven.

They definitely weren’t the prettiest when they finished, but the taste was the most important part. After flipping the little cakes out of the pan, you grabbed a spoon out of one of the drawers and went right in for the first bite.

“Mm! It’s good!” you announced excitedly, taking another spoonful to feed Chris.

“Mm,” he hummed in delight, followed by a nod of approval, “It is.”

“Yay! Maybe we should just bake together for your birthday every year. It works out better if you’re helping me.”

“It can be our new tradition,” he agreed, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “This was a fun birthday, thank you.”

“No, thank you for saving your own birthday… I wish there was more I could’ve done for you, but I’m glad you enjoyed it anyway.”

“I told you you don’t have to do anything. Spending time together, doing fun things like this together… I don’t need anything more than that.”

“How did I ever get lucky enough to find someone like you?”

“I think I’m luckier to have found you.”

“No way! I literally suck at everything… you always have to outdo me.”

“You’re good at being you. All I ask is for you to keep being you, because I love you as you are. My birthday wouldn’t have been as fun with anyone else.”

“Stop… I love you,” you mewl, turning in his hold to face him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you more,” he shot back, leaning down to peck you on the lips.

“Happy birthday,” you state for the second time, but this time with a loving smile strung across your lips.

“Now that’s a happy birthday.”

#daiya no ace #daiya no ace fanfic #ace of diamond #ace of diamond fanfic #chris takigawa #takigawa chris yuu #chris takigawa fanfic #takigawa chris yuu fanfic #chris takigawa x reader #takigawa chris yuu x reader #daiya no ace chris #daiya no ace chris fanfic

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memento-morri-writes · 2 years ago

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Happy belate Blorbo Blursday.

What was the inspiration for one of your characters?

Can you give me some insight into what makes a character tick?

Does one of the main characters hold a special place in your heart? If so, why?

What's the easiest part of writing your main character?

Hello, and thank you so much for the ask!! These are amazing questions, and I can't wait to answer them!! :D

What was the inspiration for one of your characters?

Ashlin from Call of Shadows was inspired by my very strong love of thief characters. They're a mash-up of all sorts of thief tropes and stories, and I really just wanted a stubborn, hot-headed thief character. I had just read a book which featured an MC who had a background as a thief, and also I am currently reading a book whose MC was a thief to survive as a child. That's the background I wanted for Ash. She became a thief out of necessity, but now that she can do it for money rather than subsistence food, she can truly enjoy it.

The rest are going under the cut since I got really chatty, lol.

What makes a character tick?

I'm going to talk about Fallon from ATQH. She was raised to be the Queen. She never really had another option. At one point she's asked if she always wanted to be Queen, or if she ever had another goal. She can't remember. She was an only child, and she knew that she was the only option for Heir. She adored her mother growing up and wanted to make her proud, to be the best Queen she could be. When her mother was killed, that definitely multiplied that feeling. She now not only wanted to make her mother proud, but she couldn't fail her. She couldn't fail her mother, couldn't fail her people, etc. As such, she pushes herself very hard, and refuses to accept help from anyone. She's always been stubborn, but the betrayal of her father (and later Lavinia) gave her trust issues that make her feel as if she can't rely on anyone. Relying on someone else is weakness, failure, and that's not okay. Or so she thinks. She needs to learn that some things can not be endured alone. Not if you wish to survive them.

Does one of your main characters hold a special place in your heart? Why?

Yes. Very much, yes. And that is going to have to be Kristopher. Yes, Fallon was the reason ATQH ever happened, yes she was the real main character, my first real, serious OC. But Kris snuck up on me. He wasn't supposed to be as important as he turned out being. But his character came up to me, grabbed me by the collar and said "listen here: I need more story time", and I said "hell yes". He's such a compelling character to me. The shit he's been through in his past, the way he sees himself as a worthless piece of shit, a terrible person. But in reality he's very, very kind. He has a soft heart, and though he's learned to hide it, he cares a lot. Maybe too much. The contrast of his awful family and their abuse of their kingdom, versus his desire to fix things, without knowing where to start. No one will listen to him, especially not if he's being an arrogant ass. But that's his defense mechanism, so can you really blame him? He gets told that this is his last chance, but to him, it's his first. A chance to be away from the family and kingdom that's killing him slowly, to be seen as his own person. To go somewhere where no one knows him name. Ugh, Kristopher rips my heart to shreds and makes it beat like no other character. I'm in love with him, probably more than I should be, lmao.

What's the easiest part of writing your main characters?

I'm going to talk about Kristopher and Fallon from ATQH here, since I'm not super familiar with the MCs for CoS yet. For me, the easiest part is understanding their relationship. They both are very emotional people, even if they try and suppress it. They both care a lot, about people in general, about their kingdoms, about each other. And because they're so similar, but also opposite in some key ways, they have very natural chemistry, at least I think so. And their relationship is so strongly built on trust. It almost writes itself.

#bardic-tales #oc asks #Morrigan replies #blorbo blursday #wip: cos #shadow wip #oc: Ashlin #wip: atqh #atqh: Fallon #atqh: Kris

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rinharu-purple · 4 years ago

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Hi, nice to meet you!

As a fellow Gavin stan, I found your analysis quite interesting and I'm very happy that someone finally understand the other side of our ginkgo boy... Idk whether you play in CN server or MLQC. I'm just curious, what do you think of Gavin in S2? Because I hear that everything is gonna be different. Also, the latest main story in CN server--do you think the story will be more angst?

Thank youu..

Waiting for more analyzes from you ❤

Dear Anon,

Thank you very much for your kind words and I’m also happy to meet you ^_^

Please excuse my belated answer. I waited specifically for cheri’s translation of the S2 CH11, so that I could give you a worthy answer <3

I play MLQC, because I don’t understand Chinese (yet), so I am following @cheri-translates on a daily basis for the season 2 material. (Thank you cheri, you’re the best! (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc) )

From what we get so far, Gavin shows some differences in his aura and character in S2 due to two main reasons:

1) He didn’t have the extreme teenage drama from S1 (except for his mother’s passing)

2) He and MC were companions during high school, so their relationship has a healthier fundament.

The events of the second season take place in a “parallel universe”, therefore MC’s relationships vary from those in S1. But also the Loveland City they are in is a different one, with different players but also different villains. So things DO change in S2 in general.

What do I think about Gavin in S2?

I - AM - IN - LOOOOOOOVVVEEEE - WITH - HIM!!! <3 <3 <3

Gavin was the main reason I watched the anime and downloaded the game in the first place. He was a very caring, understanding, talented and *ehm extremely good looking guy. He still is btw. This guy has a very big heart and is the most human among all LIs if you ask me. But sometimes I had the feeling in S1, that he wasn’t reaching to his full potential. His love for MC was at times awkward, mainly because he doubted himself a lot and was underestimating himself in many topics with regards to MC. His past with his father and brother was also weighting on him big time. Thus affecting his actions to a great extent. Gavin’s potential was bound by ball and chains and he didn’t seem to be able to free himself from them. And yet, he was a resilient guy, who made peace with his past, always finding the love&faith in his heart and following his own path. Those unnecessary insecurities caused by his experiences were Gav-babe’s downside in S1.

In the second season, we meet a very self confident Gavin who doesn’t get worked up in front of MC easily, let alone shy away from her. On the contrary, Gavin is teasing MC shamelessly and even toys around with her as he lets her hover over the ocean. Would you ever think that S1 Gavin would dare to do that? :D He interrogates her just for the kicks even though he doesn’t suspect her one bit, or asks her if he should detain her, since she looked like she was asking for it (I really recommend you to read the scene in CH11). Gavin is carefree towards MC and this makes him unbelievably attractive. Sure, I was surprised at first as I saw him immobilizing MC after meeting her for the first time after many years and was afraid, that he would be hostile towards her. Thankfully, this wasn’t the case...so far.

In S1, Gavin and MC were already in a harmonious relationship and were moving forward side by side gradually. But they were also having difficulties in terms of protecting each other from harm’s way and hiding their dangerous missions or wounds from each other. Which didn’t go along with a healthy relationship, even though they came a long way by the end of the S1. Plus, their positions weren’t even equal in respect of being a couple since Gavin was quite the simp and was insecure at times about his interactions with the MC. There was a teenage Gavin in him, who was telling him that he wasn’t good enough for her, that he is useless, that he is worthless. Therefore he always had his gloves on, so the speak.

These insecurities are downed to a minimum in S2 and Gavin no longer has the self loathing inner thoughts, so it feels as though, he is the real Gavin. The Gavin who he could be, he should be. Up to this point (S2 CH11). I feel like we are watching a Gavin who’s reached, or is reaching, to his full potential.

In S2, we see him co-operating with MC right from the beginning with little reluctance at first, which is natural since -you know- they are working for the opposing sides. But then we saw in CH11, that they make one hell of a team! In all honesty, Gavin and MC don’t even need to talk to each other to understand what the other thinks. We witnessed many times in S1 when they were thinking/saying/doing the same thing at the same time. But this time, they are aware of the fact that they can see through each other without words. Moreover, they banter with each other by calling one another out. Which is mostly Gavin calling her out btw. This almost flirt-like sweet bantering makes their interaction all the more titillating to me. The chemistry between them is very evident and Papergames makes sure to let us producers know, the attraction is mutual and on equal grounds. Maybe its only my opinion, but I find S2 Gavin way more sexier than the Version 1.0. But its probably because I find self-confidence to be the sexiest trait a person can have.

On a side note, Gavin also doesn’t display jealousy as in S1 and I believe this also has to do with his self confidence. Jealousy is an emotion which arouses from lack of self-confidence and trust. And the level of trust Gavin and MC share in S2 is off the charts, dare I claim.

One might even say, that the tables have turned in S2. MC has her memories from S1 whereas Gavin has started having flashbacks or dreams about their past just recently. Because of that MC already carries her romantic feelings from S1, she is the one with denser emotions in the new chapters and is rather insecure in front of Gavin. Thus making herself vulnerable for his “toying sessions”. Gavin on the other hand is beginning to explore his heart’s desires towards MC only piece by piece. He cares a great deal about her and is drawn to her inevitably, but can’t quite put his finger on it. His body and soul is already reacting to her, but his mind is a little bit slow on this front. But as stated in R&S “Inevitable”, his heart is destined to get drawn to hers.

Whether the story is going to get angstier...Let’s not fool ourselves, Papergames has the word angst in block letters carved in marble in their office. So yeah, I am pretty sure that the story is going to get angstier. But I haven’t seen anything as angsty as in S1 CH13, 14, 15, 18. Those chapters were really hard to read, but let’s wait and see.

Another important point about Gavin’s character in S2 is related to his position. He is now the Commander of the STF and therefore carries a heavier responsibility than in S1. We see in every chapter how strategically he is acting and picking the best option in which nobody gets hurt. He is still a maverick and does things in his own way and yet he is now well aware of the fact that each of his actions are affecting great numbers of people. With his subordinates he shares special bonds all the while keeping them disciplined and whatever he does, he prioritizes everybody’s safety equally (only with MC as an exception). Of course, this was one of his strengths also in S1, but in S2, he can have a bigger impact, since he has more resources to do so. He has become the perfect leader.

Which can be tied to his balanced temper. In S1 there were times, where Gavin wasn’t able to control his Evol and caused mayhem. We haven’t seen any uproar like this in S1 so far. Gavin is in control of his Evol, his emotions and his blushes...hih...well... almost. But he certainly blushes much less in S2.

So to sum it up, yes, Gavin is different in S2, but in all the good ways and I couldn’t find anything that goes in the wrong direction so far. We have a more mature, confident and experienced Gavin in S2 and I can simply say:

AMEN

I hope my answers can help you with your questions and you can always feel free the contact me if you have any questions...be it anonymously or not.

Have a nice weekend dear anon! d=(´▽｀)=b

#mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc haku #mlqc bai qi #mlqc baek gi #mr love queen's choice #Mlqc answers #Season 2 Gavin #Season 2

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simstate · 3 years ago

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new year, new asks!

worhi all! working on some new stuff behind the scenes, totally excited. yes yes i am working on the pink ui, just trying to find time :b i get a lot of asks about it ^-^ speaking of asks, let’s answer some! :D

@kardu asked:

Hello! I just want to say thank you for the Starship UI. I'm honestly in love with it. I also love your take on Don. He looks so cute! I'm right there simping on him with you. :D Have you shared him anywhere?

A: see you get it! he’s very cute :> i don’t plan on sharing my don, but he’s not that hard to recreate! it’s just normal don, a lil more stubble and body hair + 3t2 ep09 fly bangs by rented-space + jeans + 3t2 shirt collar patchwork by deedee in black :) boom! you have don!

Anonymous asked:

Hey there! Sorry if I'm just being dumb, but I'm a bit confused on how to get the pink UI pictured in the post about the beta? I don't really know how to install the final mod at all for that matter... With the beta, it said to pick the one for your monitor size, but in the final one it doesn't seem to have that option. I know it says the install is the same as Clean UI but I've never used that, this is the first time I've used a UI mod. Help please?

A: Highly recommend to download Clean UI first and read the instructions there if you’re a first-timer. GCKP explains it more thoroughly than moi. The (unreleased) Pink UI is in a usable but not final state, and the files are a bit messy so it might take longer than expected.

Anonymous asked:

hello! i was wondering if you knew how to get simPE to work on linux? it installs fine, and the cache checker works, but the program itself gives me a dll-related error whenever i try to open it.

A: Haven’t used linux in three years sorry, and when I did have to use SimPE I always used a virtual machine. good luck tho :b

Anonymous asked:

Thank you again! I’ll eventually go back to the dark ui, was just feeling nostalgic :p anyway, I want to wish you a belated merry christmas and an advance happy new year! Hope next year will be an even better year for you! (Both content creation and real life :p)

A: thank you! 🥺🥺

(house of gucci in cinemas out now!) go support my queen gaga

Anonymous asked:

hey, will u release the pink ui?

when nicki releases her album maybe i will! just busy with my life and school :) it’s in a playable but unfinished state. i’m working on some other stuff bts too so that’s also a factor.

Anonymous asked:

Hi<3Just installed the dark UI and i´m loving it!I´d love to have the pink one as well, is it on patreon only?Or is it just not released yet?If it´s there I might just join bceause I NEED THE PINK IT´S SO PRETTY

beta testers only yeah but since i’m not really doing any ui related work right now (kinda branching out, like the sims 3 font mods) i closed the patreon for a bit. might open next month though, keep an eye out :)

#asks #ask #anon #anonymous #non-sims

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wonderlustlucas · 5 years ago

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mistletoe? oh no! - im jaebeom

⇢ prompt Why do we kiss under a mistletoe when it’s a parasitic plant that steals nutrients from its host tree? ⇢ pairing jaebeom x female reader ⇢ word count 6.9k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. alcohol. suggestive make out at the end :D ⇢ summary Six months ago, you drunkenly kissed Im Jaebeom on a beach trip with your friends. Afterward, the awkward tension kept the two of you from ever having the ‘What are we?’ talk and eventually, too much time had passed for anything to ever happen. Luckily, Pollyanna and a stupidly placed mistletoe have brought your feelings to the boiling point.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n happy new year’s my loves! as one last hurrah for 2019 & as part of @kwritersworld‘s holiday writing event, here is yet another idiots to lovers, christmas/nye au! here’s to a lovely new year, & new decade. i hope you all have a blessed, joyous, & prosperous year. i love you! ♥︎

You once thought that you were an introvert.

You know— someone deemed shy, with a preference to keep to themselves rather than going out of their way to interact with others. Introvert. Opposite of extrovert.

It wasn’t until you were a senior in high school did you learn new definitions for these personality categories. An introvert—according to your philosophy teacher and a TED Talk speaker shown on the projector during class—is someone who, simply put, thinks of how they feel before speaking. Extroverts, on the other hand, only identify their true feelings on a topic after they have begun discussing it.

The lesson stuck with you. Albeit your perpetual reservation from others, you were always one to argue. Smart, excellent report card over the years— but found yourself blurting your opinion out at the first chance before fully thinking it through. Now, you concluded, I suppose I’m an extrovert if that truly is what it means. This knowledge, for some strange reason, gave you a token for change. If I’m an extrovert, you thought, I must start acting one.

Now, having just been accepted into law school, you think you have hit the nail on the head when it comes to meeting both definitions of an extrovert. Park Jinyoung, on the other hand, has his doubts.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Have you really thought about what this is gonna do to your life?” Despite the genuine concern laced in his tone, Jinyoung’s words make you wince. How he manages to suck the life out of a celebratory night out for drinks truly is beyond you.

“Yes, Jinyoung,” you groan, taking a desperate sip of your coquito like it’s really going to help against his insufferableness, “I’ve only been working for this for a few years, let me change my mind now.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” he counters, leaning in close enough for you to taste his Jo Malone fragrance on your tongue. You raise a skeptical brow at him. “Have you thought about what becoming a lawyer is going to make of your life?” His words are clipped and emphasized like he is speaking to a child, trying desperately to get his point across.

“I appreciate you looking out for me and my future, Jinyoung,” you sigh, reclining back in your bar stool because sitting that close to Jinyoung for that long makes your head dizzy, “but I promise you, I have thought about this. I know I have a lot of hard work ahead of me, but it’s what I want to do. I promise.”

Jinyoung huffs, defeated, before tipping his wine glass back and chugging what is left like some sort of animal. Very not Jinyoung-like. “Well, then I guess there’s no reason to not celebrate with you,” he grins. Then, not even a beat later, “When are you gonna make time to marry Jaebeom and have a bunch of sexy little babies?”

“Aw, for crying out loud!” You howl, slapping a hand to your forehead before turning to him with a pointed glare and a pointed finger. “Okay, first of all, the fact that you used sexy and babies in the same sentence concerns me. And second, stop saying me and Jaebeom are going to get married! He doesn’t even look at me, how do you equate marriage out of that?”

“You mean, you don’t look at him. You guys had a great time when we went to the beach not even six months ago, saw each other half naked, shared a drunken kiss before bed, and then dropped all communication! What the hell is up with that?” Jinyoung has a habit of lecturing you like it’s his full-time job and it drives you absolutely insane because he’s always right.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumble, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a lengthy sip just to buy some time. “Come on, ___. My boy is out here drowning in unrequited love while you’re just all ‘Teehee! I’m a lawyer! Don’t talk to me when I’m doing lawyer tings!’ Cut the bullshit and let him take you on a date and blow your back out for Christ’s sake!”

You are physically unable to suppress your laughter, hand flying to cover your mouth and head thrown back at his comical outburst. He’s lucky you love him or else he would seriously regret that outrageously inaccurate imitation of your voice. He’s lucky you are tipsy enough to lose yourself in laughter and he’s especially lucky that he is correct, once again.

“Jinyoung,” you wheeze, letting out one more breathless giggle before flipping on the serious mode switch, “I would love to not only go out on a date with Jaebeom, but to date him. But things got awkward and so much time as passed that suddenly starting things up again would be weird. Don’t you think?”

“No!” Jinyoung yells. Half the people at the bar jump at the noise and turn to glare. You do just the same before shooting an older gentleman beside Jinyoung an apologetic look. “I just don’t think you’re drinking enough.”

“Yes,” then, a pause to ask the bartender for the check now that Jinyoung’s lectures are starting to put a downer on you, “that’s exactly it. I’m afraid to get drunk off my ass when Jaebeom’s around because I’ll do something stupid and either scare him off or bring him home and both are terrible options!”

“You’re no fun,” Jinyoung scoffs, “my two best friends, both pining after one another, but pulling the sixteen-year-old card and not talking to each other. Great! Just great.”

You laugh, hopping down from your seat and patting his knee once you have slipped on your coat. “Buy a mistletoe for the Christmas party and maybe something can be arranged.”

Jinyoung doesn’t find it funny.

For the past six years, it has been tradition for you and your friends to have a belated Christmas slash New Year’s party where Pollyanna gifts are exchanged and an excessive amount of alcohol is consumed because, well, your friends are fun. For the past three, however, you have been holding said party at Youngjae’s house, because he is the only one who has a house and houses are infinitely better for parties than apartments. Plus, Youngjae is a gracious man who welcomes the company year after year. Can’t understand why he wants nine psychopaths in his lovely little abode, but that’s not your problem.

What is your problem is the fact that there actually is a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling fan in the kitchen. You’re going to kill Jinyoung.

You once thought Choi Youngjae was the coolest person to bless the planet. Now, you’re not so sure.

It’s the first thing your eye goes to upon entering Youngjae’s outrageously beautiful row home. Usually, you need a solid ten minutes to accept the fact that you will never become a model and have as many zeroes at the end of your savings as Youngjae, spending way too much time swooning over his grey vinyl wood floors and brick fireplace and white marble countertops. This time, however, while Jinyoung and Yugyeom do the whole bro hug greeting after wiping the snow from their shoes, you stand pressed up awkwardly against the front door, crockpot of buffalo chicken dip in hand, glaring at the stupid thing from two rooms over. Before you can turn an accusing finger to Jinyoung, Youngjae has turned to welcome you.

“You made it!” He cheers, flashing that thousand-watt smile of his and easing some of the tension that has begun to build up in your nerves like plaque. “Somehow, someway,” you return, relaxing into his embrace when he curves around the precious chicken dip to offer a half hug. “You need a drink,” Youngjae decides after having evaluated the lack of excitement in your response. Following after Jinyoung and Yugyeom, he leads you into the kitchen with a lively bounce to his step. “Bambam just finished making hot toddies, or you could be the first to take from our jell-o shot Christmas tree.”

He gestures to said “tree” on his dining table, a neatly stacked pile of green, red, and blue jell-o shots and you feel awfully terrible at having to ruin its perfected assembly. “It’s beautiful,” you muse, setting the crockpot on the counter and plugging its cord into an outlet, “it would be my honor to have the first one.”

“___!” Hollers Jackson as he slides open the door from the back patio and enters the kitchen, Maggie filing in after him. He must have joined her for a smoke outside. He proceeds to do a little dance shimmy as he makes his way over to you. “Jackson, my love,” you grin, squeezing him into a tight hug after he slaps a messy kiss to your cheek. “How are you, Miss I-Got-Accepted-Into-Law-School?”

That is going to be the topic of discussion for the night, it seems, and the heat of an embarrassed blush works its way up your neck at the realization. “I’m good. Really good, actually,” you say, directing your attention to Maggie who slips around Jackson to tuck into your side, “definitely not as stressed as I was. The holidays are a nice break from everything.”

“We’re all so proud of you,” Maggie hums, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Seriously, congratulations, again. You deserve it,” Jackson praises, reaching to squeeze your cheek. You swat his hand away in fear he will mess up the foundation you spent way too much time applying.

“Thank you, guys. I’m glad someone is happy for me,” you grumble, directing a cold glare to Jinyoung who, somehow, has already managed to fire Yugyeom up.

“What?” Bambam interjects, jumping into the conversation now that he has made his way into the room. “Didn’t you guys go out when you got accepted?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, smiling to the very expensive looking boy, “but he’s more worried than excited. Thinks I’m not considering how becoming a lawyer is going to affect my future, the stress of it, having a family, but…”

Maggie scoffs. “God, he sounds like your dad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Ugh! Everyone, shoo! Why are we all in the kitchen? Go sit in the living room,” Youngjae hisses, grabbing Bambam by the shoulders and shoving him out of the room. Bambam makes a sound of protest, gesturing dramatically to all the food and the pot of hot toddy still on the stove.

“You can come back when there isn’t an entire crowd in here,” Youngjae counters, slapping a handful of jell-o shots into his hands, “I made Yugyeom promise to not eat all of ___’s dip, you don’t need to worry.” Bambam grumbles in response, stumbling after the others and you follow suit with a laugh.

Pausing just before the living room, Bambam stops to pass everyone a shot. “Here’s to Christmas and getting Jaebeom and ___ to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“Stop!” You whine, just as the rest ‘clink’ their cups and shout, “Cheers!” Nevertheless, down the hatch the jell-o goes and you glare at them all once they are done.

“Oh, speak of the Devil,” Yugyeom snickers just as you have ran ahead to crash down on the sofa, stretching your legs out across the chaise. Rolling over off your stomach, you turn to watch Mark, Jaebeom, and Shelby arrive, one too many gift bags and bottles of wine in hand. “Oh,” Maggie whispers from beside you, elbow nudging into your side, “look at your man.”

Funny thing is, you already are. To give you the benefit of the doubt— you were already watching the trio stumble into the room anyway, but it just so happened you stopped at Jaebeom. Before things between you got complicated, when you were just friends, he always had a way of stealing the oxygen from your lungs. Now is no different.

Dressed in black slacks, a white tee tucked in and a baby blue blazer to top it all off, Jaebeom looks nothing short of marvelous. He’s been growing his hair out, too, the black waves curling down to brush his cheekbones, screaming to be combed through with your fingers. And oh Christ, you can’t even begin to talk about the nose piercing. In the midst of your swooning, Jaebeom looks up after having deemed his sneakers clean enough to walk through Youngjae’s home, scanning the room before conveniently landing on you. The blush on both of your faces is instantaneous, hardly a second of maintaining eye contact before the embarrassment burns too hot and you turn away. Still, you can’t fight your smile.

Neither can he.

“Now the party’s started!” Mark hoots, swinging two bottles in the air like he’s asking for disaster. “Hurry and put everything down so we can play something,” Yugyeom whines from his seat across the room, pushing Jaebeom’s butt to move faster. “Patience is a virtue, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung comments, throwing a Hershey Kiss wrapper at him.

“Absolute children,” Maggie mutters. You hum in agreement.

“Do you wanna play the alphabet game?” Bambam proposes, earning a groan from Jackson. He hates the game, despite how often you all play it, claiming it takes too much brain power for a party.

“Yes! I’m down,” Shelby shouts anyway, having returned in time to hear Bambam’s question. To Jackson’s misery, you all agree as well.

“Youngjae!” Bambam shouts, waiting for him to yell back. “Grab the peppermint vodka when you come in! We’re playing the alphabet game!”

The way you all play most likely has deviated from the original rules of the game, but it works and it’s fun. Sitting in a circle, you go through the alphabet, naming something in a certain category that begins with whatever letter you’re on. For example, if you were doing fruits and were on the letter W, you could say watermelon. But, the person to your right is counting to ten, and once that time is up, you have to take a shot and the letter moves on to the next person until someone gets a word. Sounds easy, until you’re three shots in and not even halfway through the alphabet.

With Shelby collapsing down between Yugyeom and Jackson on the love seat, Youngjae on the armchair by the fireplace, and Mark on the bean bag brought down from upstairs, you realize with a rising sense of panic that the only possible seating for Jaebeom is by—

“Hey,” he says, tapping your outstretched legs, “can I sit here? You can keep your legs stretched. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, sure, sure!” You squeak, jerking to sit up and to pull your legs to your chest. However, just as he sits, he grabs your ankles to tug them back. Hesitantly, and with an appreciative smile sent his way, you hesitantly lay your legs over his lap, his arms comfortably rested over them. Oh, fuck.

Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the way your heart flutters in her chest, you turn back to your friends where the game is just starting.

“Okay, I’ll start since I’m in the middle,” Mark announces, readjusting himself in the bean bag to sit closer to the coffee table, “Yugyeom, you count. Actually, you don’t need to, I already have my word. A, as in artificial tree.”

“One word, idiot,” Youngjae scoffs, smacking the back of Mark’s head, “take a shot. Yugyeom, you go.”

The younger boy pales, panicking when Mark does as he is told. Then, he blurts, “A as in angel!”

“B as in bells!” Shelby shouts.

“C as in… Christmas,” Jackson says with a wink.

“D as in December,” Jinyoung hums nonchalantly.

“E as in eggnog!” Bambam cheers.

“F as in…” Maggie pales, trailing off. In your head, you start to count, while simultaneously trying to think of a holiday word that starts with F. “Festive!” She shouts suddenly. “Oh, shit, um… G as in… gingerbread?” You huff, relieved.

“H as in holiday,” Jaebeom says with a soft smile. All eyes are on Youngjae as he stares hopelessly at the ceiling. “I, as in…”

In your head, you count alongside Mark. “What the fuck starts with I?” Youngjae hisses, slapping his knees anxiously. The silence is deafening until Mark shouts with a sadistic grin, “TEN!” Youngjae hangs his head low before reaching for the bottle. Ironic, because Mark can’t think of a word, and neither can Yugyeom, Shelby, or Jackson. Jinyoung grins at their expense until it’s his turn. “Icicle,” he says without a beat.

“That’s not Christmas-y!” Yugyeom whines, hands thrown up dramatically. “Can you think of anything better, stupid?” Jinyoung fires back, evidently shutting him up. Poor Yugyeom, he can never win.

“J as in Jesus,” Bambam says with a laugh.

“K? Bruh, you gotta be joking,” Maggie sighs, throwing her head back against the sofa, trying to concentrate. “Ten,” you sigh sadly even though you counted to fifteen, patting her knee and Youngjae passes her the bottle. “Um, K as in…” Christ, you can’t think of anything either. Kris Kringle? No, two words, fuck.

“Ten!” Jaebeom chuckles, squeezing your calf and you quickly take a swig with a wince. The round goes all the way to Shelby, who happily yells, “Kings!”

The game drags on, keeping you all at the edge of your seats by the time U and V come around. When it comes to W, everyone has had one too many shots to be able to think quickly enough to come up with wreath. Except for Jinyoung, of course. You give up on Z, deciding there is no such word and you all let out a relieved breath at the game’s conclusion. “Does this mean we can eat now?” Jackson mumbles, far too gone for a party that has only started hardly an hour ago.

“Yes! I’m ravenous,” Bambam groans, helping his friend stand. Together, they’re the first to make way into the kitchen and you’re surprised Youngjae doesn’t chase after them to make sure they don’t knock anything over.

“Well,” Jaebeom yawns and you are suddenly mortified to realize that your legs are still casually stretched out over his lap. “That was fun.” Swinging your legs away and moving to sit up, you nod in agreement. “Very fun. Love watching you and Jinyoung outsmart us every time.”

“Hey,” he frowns, elbowing your arm now that you’re sitting upright beside him, “nobody could think of tree for T, but you did, so shush.” You turn to give him an unamused look. “That’s because Jinyoung was overthinking, and Maggie and Bam drank too much,” you laugh, standing with a stretch. Jaebeom raises an eyebrow. “What?” You ask, unsure of what that look means.

“Why does your snowman have a cape? Oh—” he starts, lifting the fabric attached to the winking snowman on your ugly sweater to find a carrot penis below the three buttons. Jaebeom breaks out into laughter, face scrunched up and head thrown back and it consequently makes you laugh, too. Well, if there was any person that was going to ask first, you’re glad it was him. “Was not expecting that,” he chuckles, wiping the tears that have accumulated at his eyes before rising to stand and oh, suddenly you feel so small with him standing so close to you like that. God, he’s beautiful, you admire. Without thinking, you brush away a tuft of hair that has fallen over his eye, just to see your favorite pair of moles. It isn’t until rosiness blooms across his cheekbones do you realize what you just did.

“Sorry,” you rush breathlessly, taking a step back and turning to make sure nobody saw that. Luckily, only Shelby and Yugyeom remain, too busy cozying up to one another to notice. “___!” Maggie shouts from the kitchen like some godsent angel whose purpose is to save you from awkward moments. “You have to come see this!”

You shoot Jaebeom an awkward smile before swinging around him and making a beeline for the kitchen. Idiot, you scold yourself before taking a deep breath and bringing a smile to your face. “What?” You hum, leaning your head on Maggie’s shoulder. All it is is a SnapChat story of someone you went to university with, a picture of an engagement ring, but you are beyond grateful she called you in. After she stops to take a selfie with you, you navigate around your friends to start a pile of food on your plate, everything from dim sum (thanks, Jackson), grilled pork belly, kimbap, bulgogi sandwiches, spaghetti (thanks, Jackson, part two), and, of course, tortilla chips with your buffalo chicken dip. Big plate for big brain.

Despite the crowdedness, thankfully you are able to avoid standing anywhere close to the mistletoe once Jaebeom enters the room only a few moments later. Finally making your way to the dining table, you let out a sigh of relief now that you don’t have to worry about anything looming above. Of course, your friends have a different idea.

“___,” Maggie purrs just as you have set your plate down, gazing at you expectantly and fluttering her lashes.

“What do you want?”

“Could you get a water for me? There’s bottles in the fridge. Pleeeaaase?” She sings. You wave her off, having already turned around. Can’t be mad at her, honestly; you forgot to grab something for yourself to drink, anyway. Pulling two bottles off the shelves and nudging the refrigerator door closed, you’re just trying to grab a potato chip from the bowl on the counter when Mark rounds the corner and trips over his own feet, coincidentally falling towards you but when you step back to avoid the red wine sloshing in his glass, Jinyoung has suddenly appeared behind you and you stumble over his foot.

It’s a good plan, you think, expecting Jaebeom to catch you like some fucking knight of shining armor and steady you just below the mistletoe, but unfortunately for them, you’re quick to reach for the counter and Jaebeom has literally just turned around in his search for silverware. Regaining your balance against the cabinets, you do not miss the group’s combined groan of disappointment and can’t help but triumphantly grin. “You okay, Mark?” You ask, spinning around and suppressing a laugh at the ‘please don’t kill me’ look in the older boy’s eyes. “Yep,” he coughs, stepping to the side as you brush past.

Dinner is tense, to say the least. Maybe it’s just you. You’re annoyed, beyond so, at your friends’ lack of maturity. Relatively speaking, yes, they are trying to help push you and Jaebeom in the right direction, but their ways of operation lack any beneficial qualities. This is your problem, and you have to deal with it yourself.

You stay quiet, for the most part, occupying your thoughts simply on eating and the approaching excitement of Pollyanna. When you all picked out of a hat a little over a month ago, you initially panicked at Bambam’s name looking back at you on the folded piece of paper. As it turned out, buying gifts for him ended up working out; first, you found matching sweaters for him and his cats, then a travel set for his Bleu de Chanel cologne, a mermaid blanket he had found an Instagram ad for and wouldn’t shut up about, and finally a gift card to his favorite Thai restaurant. What’s more exciting is finding out who has your gifts. Plus, everyone did incredibly well keeping quiet this year, managing to make it all the way without slipping who had who.

Unfortunately, your irritable emotions aren’t done for the night. After finishing your much needed, sobering meal, your goblin friends are prepared to have you and Jaebeom beneath that mistletoe if it’s the last thing they will ever do. Trying to clean up before everyone really gets trashed is an absolute nightmare, everyone taking part in the scheme of leaving just the two of you in the room, nudging him your way, asking you to help Jaebeom do this, help Jaebeom do that. It only gets worse once he realizes what they’re trying to do, curving around you like you have the plague and each time you make eye contact, you contemplate fleeing to the bathroom just to scream.

After what feels like ages spent in the stifling kitchen, you migrate back to the living room to finally, finally open gifts. Good riddance, mistletoe. At everyone’s look of general disappointment, you let out your umpteenth relieved sigh of the night and collapse back into your precious spot at the sofa. You know you’re getting old when you have only been out for two and a half hours and you’re already exhausted.

To make matters worse—or better, you can’t really tell at this point—Jaebeom also sits back down beside you. You can tell he’s anxious; he’s gone back and forth between picking at his nails and a scab on his jaw for a while now and you almost want to say something until you remember how deliberately he dodged you in the kitchen. Maybe, just maybe, a part of you had hoped he would have taken the opportunity and kissed you himself. Why would things ever be so simple?

“Alrighty, friends,” settling into his chair, Youngjae beams. “Let’s get this party started. We’ll go in the same circle as before.”

In turn, Mark flashes that boyish smile of his and leans across the table to pass a bag and small box to Jinyoung. “Ooh,” the younger boy hums excitedly, “thanks, Mark.” Next, Yugyeom hands Jackson a bag, Shelby slides a big box to Youngjae, and, breaking into a fit of laughter, Jackson ends up giving a bag right back to Yugyeom. Jinyoung passes Maggie her gift, and when Bambam rises to hand Jaebeom a hefty bag, you can’t help but miss the way he glances sadly to you before smiling gratefully at his friend and engulfing him into a hug. Suddenly, it dawns on you that there are only three other people left, and watch with an impending sense of dread as Maggie walks across the room to give Shelby her gift. Two left.

Grinning excitedly, you lean over to pass Bambam his gift bag, earning a smile in return bright enough to put the Sun out of business. Now, the moment you all have been waiting for.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turn to Jaebeom, sending all prayers to God that he will rise to hand Mark the bag in his hands.

The universe laughs.

“Ugh,” Jaebeom groans, grinning like a Cheshire cat, “you’re so far.” He places the gift bag, which, is surprisingly heavier than expected, on your lap. “Thanks, Jae,” you manage, smiling fondly at him. Behind him, Youngjae drops a box by Mark’s feet, but by now everything around you has faded into the background, leaving only you and Jaebeom floating in the midst of it all. Even though he has turned away, you can’t stop staring at him. Why’d it have to be him? What are the chances? God, something tells you you’re going to fall in love by the time the night is over.

It isn’t until the tearing of wrapping paper registers in your mind do you snap out of it, coming back to reality and quickly redirecting your attention to opening your gift.

There’s a lot to unfold here, you think with a racing heart, removing the tissue paper and finding three separate items inside. You go for the small box first. It’s a jewelry box, no doubt, but this doesn’t keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay once you lift the beige lid to reveal a rose gold bracelet, diamonds in the pattern of a constellation. There’s a small card attached to the lid, too, and flipping that over you read that it is the constellation for your zodiac sign. “Jae,” you whimper, lips curling into a pout and he laughs at your touched expression. “This is beautiful.”

“Shh! Open everything first,” he hushes, waving you off and returning to his own gift.

Sucking in a deep breath, you do as you’re told and reach for the much larger box. Tearing open the wrapping paper and lifting the lid, you find a glass dome atop a wooden base, and inside is a beautiful red and gold rose with little fairy lights surrounding it. A Beauty and the Beast replicate, without a doubt, and it is so stunning you wish you could lift the glass and feel the fake rose for yourself. A man of taste, without a doubt.

Last but not least, you grab the envelope and excitedly tear it open, because envelopes mean one of three things: 1) a card 2) tickets 3) money, all unlikely options when it comes to Pollyanna.

Well, maybe not, because inside are two passes for the art museum up in the city. “Dude,” you kick Jaebeom’s ankle and stammer out, “how did you? When did you?”

He laughs. “You mentioned wanting to go a few months ago, and I didn’t think you ever got a chance. You haven’t, right?” He sounds worried. “No, I never got to go,” swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, “thank you, Jaebeom. Everything is so beautiful.”

“Of course, ___,” he smiles, reaching for your hand and even though it’s only a gentle squeeze he gives you, it has your heart doing somersaults. “Anything for you.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You are going through some serious torture here and still won’t make a move!

Everyone is extraordinarily jovial after opening gifts. With Christmas music filling the room with cheer and one too many drinks being mixed, holiday charades and pin the nose on Rudolph are played with high spirits and excessive competitiveness. The night is fun, without a doubt, and you try to ignore the way your friends are still trying to get you and Jaebeom under the mistletoe no matter how annoying it may be. Why can’t they do it to Yugyeom and Shelby? Sure, everyone knows they fuck but neither of them have the balls to officially ask the other out, so why are you the one targeted? Jaebeom didn’t ask for this, either.

“Fuck!” Youngjae groans when Maggie makes her shot into their cup for jingle bell beer pong. Since freshman year, you and Maggie have fought back and forth for the champion's title against Youngjae and Jackson. With this being the second win against them for the night, you get to wear the label proud until next time. “Oh, yeah, baby!” She shouts, doing a funky celebratory dance before jumping to give you a hug.

“I’m a disgrace to the Chinese community,” Jackson cries—literally—before squatting to bury his face in his knees.

“HA!” You laugh mercilessly, jumping along with Maggie in triumph. “You guys are so mean,” Mark chuckles, walking away from their own losers’ championship to see what all the commotion is about. “Just to Youngjae and Jackson,” Maggie defends, gesturing to the pair having a drunken meltdown together. You hum in agreement.

“Yugyeom and Jaebeom are playing Jinyoung and Bambam. It’s pretty intense,” Mark explains, blatantly sarcastic when you glance curiously to the other table. “They’re all so drunk, they’re literally just throwing bells at each other.” He holds up one such bell that must have strayed away from the game. You laugh, hugging your jacket closer and watching Yugyeom begin to twerk when he finally makes a shot.

“My God,” Maggie snickers, shielding her eyes and turning away from the scene to comfort the still depressed Jackson.

“So,” Mark starts, “you and Jaebeom, huh?”

You groan. “Me and Jaebeom, what?”

“I mean, those gifts he gave you were pretty cute. What’s it gonna take for you to ask him to go to the museum with you, hm?” He purrs with a rise of his dark brows. Shit, he does have a point. Why else would Jaebeom give you two passes? To bring one of your other, definitely less artsy friends to go with you?”

Mark simpers at your speechless self, knowing he’s trumped you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hold the cold air in long enough to gather your scrambling thoughts before releasing a heavy exhale with absolutely no change to how you feel. “I’ll try,” you grumble, “why can’t he make the first move?”

Mark lets out a dry laugh. “___, are you serious?”

“Huh? What—”

“He’s been making the first move for months,” he interrupts, shaking his head at your textbook definition denseness, “you’ve just been curving him the entire time. I know you’ve been busy with law school stuff the past few months, but come on, now. You have to grab him before someone else does.”

If it weren’t for the chill of the air keeping your cheeks and the tip of your nose cold and ruddy, you know the color would have drained from your face. Embarrassed and in desperate need for some space, you quickly turn away to look in the direction of the house, where Coco scratches at the backdoor.

“I, um, I’ll be right back,” you say, voice small. Heart hammering in your chest as you jog up the steps and across the small deck, it isn’t until you have slid open the door to let Coco out and closed it behind you do you let out a shaky sigh. “Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking off your jacket and slinging it over a chair before moving to cower in the corner. Reaching for what little tortilla chips are left, you anxiously take the lid off your chicken dip and begin shoveling mouthfuls into your mouth. Is it true? Have you really been the one dodging Jaebeom all this time? Sure, everyone always says it, especially Jinyoung, but it has seemed like Jaebeom has been curving you, too.

Maybe he has just been giving up.

This makes your head hurt, you think, bending down to rest your forehead against the counter. The fucking gifts, man. Mark is right—the bracelet, the rose lamp, the museum tickets. How did he remember that small detail you mentioned… when did you even mention it? You can’t remember, yet he did! Jesus, all this time you’ve wasted being an absolute clown over this. You’ll have to do something about it. Tonight, you decide, looking to the clock above the stove. 11:12 PM. Forty-eight minutes until New Year’s. You’ll kiss him, and that’s when you will—

“Ahem.” Behind you, someone clears their throat and it quite literally feels as if you have jumped out of your skin. “Jesus Christ!” You jump, spinning around with a heart thumping in your chest. Your heartbeat only mildly slows once you realize it’s only Jaebeom. OnlyJaebeom, yeah. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, chuckling awkwardly. “Did I interrupt something?”

You wince, beyond humiliated he caught you mid-pep talk slash breakdown. “No, no. You’re fine, I was just, um…”

“Catching a breath?” He finishes when you trail off. Maybe he’s not so drunk, after all.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking to your feet.

After a long moment of silence, Jaebeom clears his throat. “Listen, ___, I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you, and—”

“Wait!” You interrupt before your brain has even caught up. His eyes widen in surprise at your sudden excitement. “I need to tell you something, first.”

“Ohhh ‘kay,” he laughs nervously, stepping closer to lean against the counter beside you and his proximity suddenly makes it very hard to breathe, let alone figure out what you want to say.

“I don’t know where to start. Okay, um, first, I guess. The gifts you gave me? Amazing. Probably one of the best I’ve ever gotten. So thank you, really,” you start, rushed and out of breath. Jaebeom hums, lips tilting into an amused smirk. You don’t miss how he leans just barely closer. “Second. Mark was just talking to me, and he said something that just… fucked me up. Apparently, I’m good at school but not at catching when someone actually, truly likes me.”

At this, Jaebeom’s curiosity has peaked and his heartbeat starts to mirror your own. “I don’t know how this happened. I know we kissed over the summer, and you have been my friend for years but all of a sudden, I realized that I like you. You’re like, one of my favorite people in the world. But then things got crazy busy and I told myself I needed to concentrate, but for fuck’s sake, I’m still head over heels for you after all this time. And Mark said that if I don’t stop curving you, soon you are going to find someone else and, Jesus, I don’t think I can live with myself if I let you slip by.”

Somewhere in the middle of your ramble, Jaebeom has pressed himself to you and curled a finger through a belt loop in your jeans to keep you there against him. Even up close, he is so unbearably handsome, nose still beet red from the cold, lips cracked and face left unshaven. “So,” he whispers, raising his free hand to cup your face, “are you ready to finally stop running from me?” You offer a tiny nod, nuzzling into his hand before, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?” Jaebeom doesn’t waste any time bothering to answer, tipping your chin up to meet his lips. Jaebeom’s kiss is soft, just a drawn-out peck but it’s enough to drop kick your sanity right out the door. “Tastes like buffalo chicken,” he whispers with a smile, just barely pulling back. Just as soon as he has stopped, you are fisting your hands into his jacket and tugging him back, greedily opening his mouth with yours and whimpering against him once he has caught the hint and slackened his jaw to deepen the kiss. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but kissing Jaebeom leaves you breathless, limbs weak kind of drunk on his taste and leaving you desperate for more.

“Jaebeom,” you sigh dreamily, arching into him when he drags a hand down your spine. “Fuck,” he whispers, pushing you further against the cabinets and mindlessly gyrating his hips with yours. Hands brushing past your ass to grip the back of your thighs, he orders, “Jump.” You do as he says, allowing him to help you onto the counter and you distantly pray someone doesn’t walk in on you, especially Youngjae. He’ll murder you if you knock something down.

“Can’t believe you’ve kept me waiting all this time when you kiss like that,” Jaebeom mutters, kissing along the length of your neck and groaning against your skin when your hands brush along the waistband of his pants. “Never met someone who wears an ugly sweater and still manages to be the hottest one in the room.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slips beneath your sweater, fingers brushing just over your bra and leaving fire in their wake. “Impossible,” you huff, wrapping your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer, his involuntary thrusts brushing deliciously against you, “when I say the same thing about you.” Jaebeom chuckles, returning to your mouth and cradling your jaw to meet him. You could do this forever, you think, nails digging into his arms when his hand cards through your hair and he kisses like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“God, I can’t do this when I’m not sober,” he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and you can’t help but smile at the soft gesture. “Me too,” you admit, reaching to play with the soft hair at the back of his neck, “we can do this whenever now, though.” Jaebeom chuckles, leaning back to admire you before placing a much softer kiss on your lips. “Does that mean you’ll go out on a date with me?”

“Well, yes, of course,” you grin, sliding off the counter and cupping his face, “I meant what I said. I can’t bear the thought of not giving us a chance.”

“It’s about damn time,” Jaebeom teases, earning a light punch to his arm. “Hey! I’ve been stressed out of my mind. I was blind when it came to seeing you flirt with me.”

“I’m kidding, ___,” he chuckles, “I’m glad it took us until now. It’s a good way to start off the year, knowing I’ll meet my New Year’s Resolution and be able to bone you sooner than later.”

Your eyes widen at his words, warmth instantly blooming its way up your neck when you glance to the growing tent in his slacks and he lets out a triumphant laugh. In the midst of your embarrassed flush, the back-door slides open and none other than Jinyoung starts shouting, “Where the fuck have y’all been? Oh— shit! What happened?”

Then, not a heartbeat later, “Kiss! KIIIISSSSSSS!”

“KISS!” Maggie screams, bouncing behind Jinyoung and it isn’t until you look up do you understand. Of fucking course— the stupid mistletoe.

“Shall we, m’lady?” Jaebeom asks, voice laced with amusement. You quirk a brow at him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him closer.

“We shall.”

Not even three hours into the new decade, Jaebeom has already met his New Year’s Resolution.

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sparksflys · 3 years ago

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Hi Myriam! Happy (belated) November & Red (Taylor's Version) release week :D I'm very excited about the upcoming films that will acoompany Red TV's release!!

Yes!!! The books that you've listed are amazing & have 10/10 prose 💖 The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, Piranesi by Susanna Clarke, and The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern are also some of my all-time favourite books :D

I've read (and sometimes re-read) a lot of wonderful books over the past 2 years. To name a couple more books that I think have amazing writing / storytelling:

Circe by Madeline Miller

Ariadne by Jennifer Saint

The Ocean At The End Of The Lane by Neil Gaiman

Middlegame by Seanan McGuire

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow

Speaking of books, what are a few upcoming releases that you're looking forward to read?

P.S. I also listened to Snail Mail's albums over the past few weeks and enjoyed it!! I think both Lush and Valentine are intriguing in their own ways that there's a lot of nuance in the songs :D Which Snail Mail album do you personally prefer?

Hello Jennifer!!! :D Happy late November (sorry I took so long to answer)!! I hope you enjoyed the Red (Taylor's Version) release week, the album, the music video and the short film!!!

Omg all the books you mentioned are definitely on my TBR expect for Middlegame that I've never heard of but it looks intriguing 😊Circe, Ariadne, TOATEOTL and The Night Circus are all on my shelves and I can't wait to read them. So many books and so little time to read 😭

I don't really keep up with upcoming releases so I don't really know... I'm excited for Gallant by V. E. Schwab for sure, Book of Night by Holly Black and Babel by R.F. Kuang as well. My sister works in a publishing house so sometimes she gets very early copies of books and very recently she got one a lot of people were saying good things about, so technically it's an upcoming release (it should be released in 2023) but I guess I'll just download the PDF she got (🤫) and read it. What are some upcoming releases you're looking forward to read???

Ah so cool!! I'm glad you enjoyed them! I haven't had time to seat and really enjoy Valentine because of Red (Taylor's Version) that came out just a week after. I think objectively Valentine is better but I like the roughness and the innocence of Lush more. In comparison, Valentine seems very "polished", I think I just need to spend more time with it though! What about you? Do you have a favorite?

#ask #💕💕💕💕💕

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unintentionalgenius · 3 years ago

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ok @ongreenergrasses tagged me to do this and that's how I know we're made for each other bc tagging me in things is my love language

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 20, but 13 of those shouldn't count because they're Sherlock and I am not that person anymore

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? ok I had hopes that there was some way to do this besides doing, you know, math. but. it's 169,674

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? shockingly, #1 is Death and John Watson; or, Five Times John Watson Met Death and the One Time He Died at 615 kudos. If you'd asked me what was going to top this list I never in a million years would have said this one. I might have to re-read this now.

What I would have said actually comes in at #2, the (almost complete, dear g-d I'm so close) Come then, and be broken at 376 kudos.

#3 my beloved, my eldest daughter of a fic, Put Away Childish Things at 223.

#4 is astoundingly another Sherlock fic, this one creatively titled Five Times John Woke Up to Sherlock and One Time He Didn't (it's not bullying if it's past me I'm making fun of, right?).

#5 is a tie, with 60 kudos each, but they're part of the same series: A Great Man and Something Like Beginning, from my Sherlock kidfic (and incidentally how i met Hayls in the first place!).

I'm really committed to preserving my ~journey~ as a writer, but the outsized prevalence of Sherlock fic on my profile is making me question that decision. I feel like it's false advertising for who I am as a person now. 😅

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to! It might not be in a timely fashion, and honestly sometimes I feel weird about it, but I do go through and answer a few at a time when I have a few minutes.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? I refuse to re-read the Sherlock fic just to confirm, but I think Childish Things wins by a landslide anyway. Fic where John or Sherlock died was a dime a dozen back in the day whereas "[a genderswapped] stiles helps peter kill her best friend" is still a very particular, unique twist of the knife.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? this is probably going to be that Sherlock kidfic verse!

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? I absolutely do not write crossovers. No offense to anyone who does, but I simply do not understand the appeal.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic? It was less about the fic and more about the fact that I pointed out 911 has some copaganda elements via a fic's tags, but yes.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind? I now, as of literally the most recent chapter of the most recent work I posted, have to admit that I do technically write smut. It's super cerebral, feely smut, but you do read two people having sex, so like. guilty.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don't think I have written any fics worth stealing but if it's happened I don't know about it

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nope! I have co-written things in Real Life and I honestly don't think I have anyone that I would want to write fic with like that. HOWEVER I do have a beloved sounding board in @ragequilt

13. What’s your all time favorite ship? i literally cannot answer this, there is no way I can say decisively

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I had this fic from when the first of the new star wars movies came out where everyone thinks poe is dead, so finn has to become a person on his own, essentially, rather than being taught/hand-held by poe which I felt like I was seeing a lot in fic. The whole thing was epistolary, a diary that finn's therapist had him start keeping, which he then started writing to Poe. That's pretty firmly abandoned at this point, but it still haunts me and I wish I had finished it.

15. What are your writing strengths? Hayls once told me I'm really good at dialogue, and I actually think that's true. I'm also pretty good at atmosphere, I think, though no one has ever said exactly that. I do think I'm good at characterization, and that for me is really tied to how I do dialogue. I would honestly accept any commentary anyone wants to offer on the subject, though

16. What are your writing weaknesses? PLOT. not like, emotional arcs or a character's journey or whatever but. the ticky little nuts and bolts of how we get from a to z, especially when it requires a tight plot of external action. I always think about myself as (to quote @ragequilt here) someone who writes hurt/comfort, not casefic, and this is why. I'm rarely interested in writing the finer details of a mystery or an extravagant plot full of courtly intrigue. I'm probably bad at other things, too, but this is the one that stands out like a glaring neon sign to me.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I think in almost every case it's not necessary UNLESS it's being done for effect - that is, if I intentionally want the reader not to know what's said. Otherwise, I'm just going to put the switch to french/spanish/hebrew/arabic/mandarin in the narration. One exception to this for me, which is really just a sub-clause under the "only for effect" rule, is when I'm writing canonically bilingual characters who would employ words or phrases in both their languages in the same sentence. Some of this is characterization - Eddie Diaz speaks Spanish or Spanglish around his family; someone writing me wouldn't be writing me properly if they didn't write the Hebrew/Yiddish/English patois that I speak in Jewish spaces. I don't want my writing to read like the over-translated subtitles you sometimes see where loan words are translated, thereby rendering the subtitles actually less intelligible. It's a delicate balance and I wouldn't guarantee I get it write all the time, especially when it comes to not othering a character I'm writing. (also @ hayls I am one of those people who always/almost always says Hashem instead of g-d 😂 for me it's a way of making sure people don't think I'm talking about Christian God™️) You will notice, though, that I do have a tipping point implicitly delineated here - if someone is speaking another language for whole sentences, I'm just going to put that in the narration; single words or phrases will be written as spoken.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Sherlock (womp womp)

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? I've never written Destiel fic, and while at this point you might be wondering what on earth there is left to say via fic about that pairing, I have a lil thing bubbling around in my brain about bodily autonomy vs. trauma vs. helping someone not suffer from their trauma while violating whatever the brain equivalent is of bodily autonomy.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? whyyyy would you ask someone this, it's like asking someone to pick a favorite child. the answer will change tomorrow, but right now I think it's the still-WIP sequel to Childish Things, A Twisted Thing Cannot Be Made Straight. It's got fun witchy!Stiles, buckets of angst but also lots of fun pack shenanigans in flashbacks, lots of me working out my own feelings about childbirth and raising children, ambiguous relationships, belated grappling with trauma, and also a satisfyingly bloody climax. There are some scenes there that still give me chills to read, and I wrote them.

@ragequilt I want to see yours!

#fic #AO3 #mine #tagged

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years ago

Note

(yes i'm sending two). the other one should be in the kitchen for no reason at all, with whatever ship you want! :D

I am a simple human. I see "whatever ship I want" and my mind immediately screams analogical XD I had too much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy tooth rotting fluff!

Just How Lovely He Is

Summary: Logan gets lost in thought as he thinks about his life with Virgil, deciding after that a kiss is definitely needed.

Warnings: very brief, non explicit sex mention.

Ships: Romantic Analogical, Logan x Virgil

WC: 1, 573

Logan smiled softly as he watched Virgil from over the edge of his book. He hadn't turned the page in a while but thankfully the younger man hadn't seemed to notice over the music playing on the counter beside him. Evanescence played a rolling beat to accompany the clanking of dishes Virgil had insisted on doing, bowls and pans from their late lunch of valiantly attempted vegetable stir fry stacked gleaming in the drip rack. He still wore his hoodie, albeit with the sleeves scrunched up tight above his elbows, tendons tensing and releasing in his thin wrists as he scrubbed at a patch of rice stuck burnt to a pan's bottom. Logan's smile grew wider as the other huffed at his long bangs that had fallen into his eyes to make them fluff away for a moment only to let them fall back again.

His hair was just as long as when Logan first met him, all bite and almost no show as his sarcastic quips kept people at a comfortable arm distance, preferably more if he could manage it. But he had needed help and Logan was right there. He remembered how the darkly dressed boy had turned to him angrily, false bravado flashing in his eyes but fingers twisting in stretched out sleeves telling an entirely different story. The math had been hard, calculus being new to both of them and Logan with only the tiniest step up in understanding to really add to Virgil's confusion. They had both stuck it out though, too stubborn to give up on what they had silently agreed would be a one time thing anyway and as long as they had worked together in class they may as well puzzle out their homework together at the library.

The library had turned to the common area, and the common area Logan's dorm room where Virgil had discovered his self edited poster of Ellie from Up pointing to a NASA logo exclaiming "Adventure is out there!". Virgil had laughed, calling him a nerd to which Logan had immediately bristled but quickly calmed when the emo began rambling about his old dorm mate that had been obsessed with all things Disney and Pixar, Up being a movie Roman would cry in the beginning for every single time it was put on. He went on to talk about debates the two would have and the arguments that would often break out about the true meaning behind the films which had then dissolved into conspiracy theories that Logan was quickly sucked into, homework forgotten as they chatted long into the evening, only shutting up once their stomachs growled and they had laughed at the hours that went by, mutually deciding pizza over calculus was the way to go.

The first time Logan remembers thinking Virgil was beautiful they were eating at a park bench trading class gossip back and forth when he had said something particularly relatable, making Logan's eyes light up as he dug out a flashcard he had just made without thinking, nodding to himself before quoting "same-sise". Virgil had looked so confused as Logan registered what he had done, quickly hiding the note card against his stomach and looking down in shame.

"What did you just say L?" He had said.

"I was...I had read the slang word a few times and looked it up since it seemed relevant. I'm not...the most proficient at new social terms."

"Hey it's alright, honestly. Can I see?"

Reluctantly he had handed over his cards and watched as Virgil read the word over. "It's pronounced same-seas. But you used it in the right context. Some of these are outdated though...I could teach you the new ones people use now if you want? So you can keep up with conversations and stuff."

Flabbergasted Logan could only nod, watching as a huge grin broke out on Virgil's face, one of the few genuine smiles he offered. No judgement, not even a hint of disdain were found in his gray green eyes, making Logan's stomach flip with an unfamiliar feeling at the thought of being listened to, wanted, and only one thought graced him with its presence as Virgil began talking again.

'Beautiful'

Later on Logan learned about Virgil's panic attacks, helping him through several and regularly guiding his breathing before tests and after classes. Virgil learned of his own pent up anxiety attacks and was always there to lay a careful hand on his shoulder or words of encouragement from a safe distance away. They learned it was okay to lean on each other, asking for help at two in the morning or a hug at three. Virgil found tight hugs and soothing backrubs grounding while Logan found he very much enjoyed the others pale fingers carding through his dark hair. They weren't always physically affectionate, sometimes they couldn't be as touch could be too overwhelming, so quiet 'heys' were exchanged with soft looks instead.

The first time 'I love you' was said it was whispered so quietly Logan had almost missed it, tucked under the blankets with his legs tangled with Virgil's and fingers threaded together. His heart had nearly stuttered to a stop, emotions overflowing as those three words hit him harder than anything anyone had ever said to him. It hurt, how much he loved Virgil, with his despicable music taste he had grown accustomed to and had downloaded to his phone. His dyed purple hair that he grumbled about staining the towels. The way he always had the AC cranked up because of the oversized hoodie he wore everywhere all year long since it was his favorite comfort item. His chipped fingernail polish and dark eyeshadow that did nothing to hide the bright smile that had slowly become more and more common. He had choked on his sobs, Virgil's breath hitching as he began to stutter out an apology before lips were being pressed to his own even as tears dripped down to splash against his cheeks. Logan had pulled back, embarrassed, just managing to gasp out his long belated confession.

"I love you too. Virgil, I love you so much-" Their lips had met again, softer and sweeter and nowhere near perfect with snot dripping from Logan's nose and Virgil's palms sweaty with anxiety but it was fine because Virgil loved him.

Virgil loved him.

And Logan loved Virgil. From chaste kisses shared (not so) discreetly in the halls to heavier ones shared between moans behind firmly shut doors. Logan held Virgil's hand or linked pinkies or pulled him down on his lap as he read. Virgil wrapped warm and safe arms around his shoulders or held his face between cold palms or brushed their shoulders gently in passing. They shared friendly banter and heated arguments alike, both too stubborn to admit to a wrongdoing in the moment and having cool off separately for however long it took for one to miss the other, which was never that long at all really.

Unfortunately life had gotten in the way. Different jobs across the town and neither of them owning a car meant Virgil stayed in an apartment building close to his work while Logan did likewise miles away. Still more often than not they enjoyed eachothers company in either apartment, Virgil's being smaller and cramped while Logan had yet to disclose he had rented a two bedroom much closer to a mid way point between their respective jobs. They had discussed it earlier but at the time neither of them had had the finances so it was put in the back burner. Until now.

Logan came back from his reverie to see Virgil finishing up drying the dishes, mouthing along to a new song as he bounced in place slightly to the tune, making Logan smile yet again. Everything Virgil did was infuriatingly adorable, from his hips swaying slightly as he bent to put a pan back to the way he tried to be subtle about pushing back the hair he knew had grown too long from his face. Mind made up, Logan stood and smoothly took away the towel to place it on the counter, reaching up to gently brush Virgil's bangs from his beautiful eyes staring at him in question. Instead of answering Logan brought both hands up to the others cheeks, brushing them over softly with his thumb as he leaned forward.

Their lips met as Virgil twisted Logan's shirt in his fists to pull him closer, closed mouth kiss long and lingering as they smiled into it. Logan brought his hand around the back of Virgil's neck and tipped his head slightly, deepening the kiss with a simple swipe of the tongue, teeth carefully avoided with practice and mouths moving in sync. Logan pulled away first only just enough to lean forward and press their foreheads together, still holding the other as gently as he would a treasure, eyes locking as Virgil's eyes crinkled with adoring amusement.

"What was that for you sap?" He asked softly, rubbing tiny circles against his stomach through his now wrinkled shirt.

The extra apartment key felt heavy in his pocket with the added stormcloud keychain he had had specially commissioned, weighing his pocket with a promise he couldn't wait to make. "No reason."

Smiling he kissed the other again and again, making him laugh and bat playfully at his face.

No reason at all.

This work is also available on AO3!

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kiss prompt #sanders sides fluff #fluffy fluff #analogical #virgil x logan #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides analogical #false writes

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cat-soda · 4 years ago

Text

near’s belated birthday oneshot!

A hand on his shoulder turns him around abruptly, and Near is halfway to pulling out the pistol he has concealed at his waist for this very reason when

“So, it is you, Near!”

oh. Gevanni.

“Wow, sir, you’ve grown so—” the other man stops, narrowing his eyes at Near’s aborted movement. “Were… were you about to shoot me?!”

“I was startled,” is Near’s bland response. He resists the urge to twist his hair.

This is why he doesn’t do any goddamn fieldwork.

or, near has a nice day

Pairings: none, but slight sutenia

Wordcount: 4755

Warnings for: slight ooc, lots of headcanons, original characters

[Ao3 Link]

It’s almost the end of summer when Near pulls on sandals over his socks and Rester’s baseball cap over his hair, tucks all of his hair into a pink and blue windbreaker, slips on a pair of sunglasses, then goes to stand in front of a mirror. He’s almost completely unrecognizable as himself. He’s never worn so many bright colors before, and he finds it to be a bit off-putting. Without even a trace of white on him, was he still ‘Near’?

He’s starting to think this isn’t such a good idea.

Over sticks their head through Near’s doorway, with a, “Bro, what’re you still doing here?! I can’t distract Halle and Rester forever!” Near blinks out of his mild identity crisis. “Go on, get!”

“Overture, I was thinking, maybe this isn’t—”

“L, you think too much,” they say shortly, pointing a stern finger at him. “Stop it, and get out of here before I start hollering for Linda.”

Near wants to refute this statement, because even someone as bullheaded as Over wouldn’t dare to poke the metaphorical sleeping bear in the eye (or, actually, maybe they would. Near sometimes thinks he might’ve chosen a successor a little too similar to Mello. His mistake, honestly) but they’re already pulling him by the sleeve out of his bedroom and sneaking him out the front door, and Near thinks that a teenager shouldn’t be able to push him around so easily. Over waves him off with an exaggerated air-kiss, to which Near’s only response is to stare, perturbed, back at them. “Be impulsive! Do something fun!”

‘Impulsive’ and ‘fun’ are hardly words that Near would use to describe himself, but he digresses. He gives them a short nod, pulls Rester’s stolen baseball cap a bit more securely over his head, and sets off at a fast pace down and out of the alleyway and into the city.

And, it was important to note, Near hasn’t been outside… in a long time.

It’s always a somewhat strange experience, leaving his headquarters’ dark, room temperature spaces and bright computer screens, and adjusting to whatever it is the rest of the world decides to throw at him. There are breezes and bright skies, and Near doesn’t usually care about whether or not his hair gets in his face, so long as it doesn’t obscure his vision, but out here, wayward strands of white hair whip his cheeks and get stuck in his mouth. He keeps his mouth shut and his eyes wide, taking in the world around him, and asks himself where he should go.

Admittedly, this was one of those few things that Near had not taken the time to plan out.

As he’s wandering down the sidewalk, almost hugging himself to keep from accidentally making contact with anyone else, he spots a cardboard box off to the side. He can hear small sounds coming from it, snuffling sounds and tiny whimpers, and he leans over to look inside, then can’t quite stifle the gasp that escapes him at the sight.

IT’S A DOG.

A VERY SMALL DOG.

What do I do with this information, he thinks. He crouches down closer to the box, and has a staring contest with the puppy. (He wants to pet it.) (He shouldn’t pet it.) (But, God, does he want to.) The puppy is scruffy-looking and collarless— the natural assumption being that it’s been abandoned (and no, he doesn’t want to cry at the thought). What is the procedure for ensuring that abandoned puppies are placed in suitable, loving homes with good and kind owners?

He calls Linda.

“I’ve found an abandoned puppy,” he says without preamble.

“Near, no,” she replies immediately. “Do not.” Then, after a moment of silence, “Fuck. You’re making that face, aren’t you?” He is not, in fact, making that face —as he hasn’t made that face since he was twelve, not that she would know; furthermore, what would be the point in doing so with no one else around to see it?— but he’s certainly not going to tell her that. That face was particularly useful back when he lived at Wammy’s, and had been especially effective against three specific people (one of which was Linda, of course).

Mello called it cheating. Near calls it ‘using his assets to their full potential.’

So no, he doesn’t deny her statement. And then, “Ughhh, fine,” she says.

Success!

“I will be there in a short while, then. Please h—”

“O-on second thought!” He pauses, perplexed, at her interruption. Linda doesn’t stutter. It was unlike her to be anything other than confident and sure, as was the case for most Wammy’s kids. “Maybe you should stay there, Near! Yes, that’s right! Stay there and, um, tell me where you are! I’ll come pick up the puppy, and you should stay out! For like five more hours. Catch those rays and vitamin D, haha!” Most Wammy’s kids were also very capable liars. Emphasis on most. It appears that Linda has gotten worse at it over time. For what reason could she be lying, though?

He considers the date. Ah, that was probably it. August 24th. It’s his birthday.

Interesting. Following this line of thought, he comes to the conclusion that they must be planning some sort of surprise for him. It makes sense now, why Over and Linda had been so insistent and particular that he went out today. He almost wants to tell her that they needn’t bother to do anything too big for him, but prior experience informs him that that might end up offending her. And Near fears no god

but he does fear Linda.

He does not say anything to her of the sort, and instead goes, “If that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, of course! See you soon!” The line cuts off sharply without Near telling her where he is.

...so she’s been tracking him. He wonders if she’s been using the CCTV cameras to do so or if she’s placed another tracker on his phone.

He bends back down and reaches a tentative hand out to the puppy. It sniffs his hand curiously. “It seems we will be parting ways soon. Not to worry. It will only be for a short while,” he says, voice solemn. The puppy yips and licks his fingers.

He lets himself indulge in a couple of pats to the puppy’s head, and it whines when he hears a voice that is not Linda’s yell, “Near!” and suddenly stands.

He hasn’t heard anyone other than Linda use that name in quite a number of years. For just over a decade now, he’s been ‘L’ to just about everyone who knew him. In fact, the only other person who refused to use his new moniker was Gevanni, who’d resigned several years ago.

He glances around, wary of his surroundings, and doesn’t see anyone suspicious. He also doesn't consider the possibility that he might be snuck up on.

Another oversight on his part, really.

A hand on his shoulder turns him around abruptly, and Near is halfway to pulling out the pistol he has concealed at his waist for this very reason when

“So, it is you, Near!”

oh. Gevanni.

Speak of the Devil, and He shall come, as they say.

“Wow, sir, you’ve grown so—” the other man stops, narrowing his eyes at Near’s aborted movement. “Were… were you about to shoot me?!”

“I was startled,” is Near’s bland response. He resists the urge to twist his hair.

This is why he doesn’t do any goddamn fieldwork.

“Y-you… you can’t just—” Gevanni stops, lips twitching upwards into a slight smile. “I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised, huh? It’s just strange to see you by yourself. Is Halle not around? Commander Rester?” Ping! He glances down at the phone in his hand, then pockets it.

Ping, ping, ping! Gevanni winces. Near only tilts his head, scrutinizes the older man quietly. “No. I’m by myself.”

“Oh, that’s—” Then, Gevanni gets several pings from his phone in quick succession, and he finally gives Near an apologetic glance before looking down at the screen. He pales instantly, and Near has only seen him do that under one circumstance: while being reprimanded by Agent Lidner.

So she and Commander Rester were, presumably, in on the surprise as well. He had thought it’d been suspiciously easy to get away from Rester’s watchful gaze. Well, agent? What is it that Lidner’s told you to do? There’s a slightly sadistic side to him that is presently very amused, and enjoys watching the older man squirm— Near can’t help the small huff he lets out from his nose.

Gevanni puts his phone away with an overly-bright smile and a nervous laugh. “Hey, sir, why don’t we, uh, walk this way? For a bit? We could, um…” His eyes land on a nearby poster in bright red and yellow colors. “Go to the carnival!”

“Why would I want to go to a carnival?”

Gevanni looks Near in the eye and leans in close. “You can win so many plushies.”

“I’ve been convinced,” replies Near. He thinks, then amends his statement. “But I must wait here for just a bit longer.” The plushies, too, could wait.

“Why’s that?”

Near crouches back down beside the cardboard box, reaches out and rubs the puppy behind the ears obligingly when it whines, and lets his actions answer for him.

Gevanni crouches beside him, voice hushed and awed as he whispers, “Puppy.”

“Indeed.”

The older man lets the puppy sniff his hand, then lick his palm before he whimpers, “Oh, precious baby.” Near grants him a moment to compose himself.

Linda arrives several minutes later, already smiling at Gevanni despite herself, and Near comes to the conclusion that ah yes, she’d been watching the CCTV cameras, then. Upon introducing herself to Near’s former employee, she coos over the small puppy and gathers the box up into her arms.

“Thank you for doing this, Linda,” he says, after giving the puppy one last gentle pat.

“No prob!” She hip-checks him affectionately as she walks past. “Now, get out of here, twerp. Take O’s advice!”

“That hardly tends to turn out well,” he reminds her reproachfully.

“Try it anyways! Nice to meet you, Stephen! Don’t stay out too late, Near!”

“Even though I no longer look like a child,” he mutters to Gevanni once her back has disappeared from view, feeling petty and petulant, but also saying it low enough that none of the cameras can pick up on it, “she insists upon treating me like one.”

Gevanni snickers. “Yeah, that sucks. I mean, you finally look like you’re almost old enough to drink.”

Near narrows his eyes at the man, who was still giggling to himself. Clearly, Gevanni has gotten too comfortable with poking fun at his former boss. Then, Near’s expression softens. Well, he supposes that’s alright. They’re no longer in a professional relationship, after all, and haven’t been for some time.

He wonders if they could be called friends, then, instead.

“Oh, by the way,” Gevanni says as they begin walking toward the carnival grounds. “Why are you dressed like that?” He gestures at Near’s windbreaker, and Near pulls some of the pink-and-blue fabric away from himself to examine it. “It’s not bad— no, it’s pretty bad. You look like that 90s kid from Vine a couple years ago? ...no? I guess you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about, huh?”

Near shakes his head.

“Yeah. Well. I’m guessing you didn’t mean to dress like him, then, right?”

“No,” he says. He fiddles with the loose tail of his bracelet.

“Then… why?”

“Mm.” Near waits until he finishes looping, then unlooping the tail around the rest of the bracelet before answering as Gevanni waits patiently. “I am… someone who clings to familiarity,” he says, finally. “When I was very young, my mother told me that white was the color of grief. Of course, Western viewpoints differ, so many of the other children never understood why I insisted upon wearing white and only white. Somewhere in my mind, I think I believed that doing so would somehow make my family’s death hurt less, or that I would wake up and find that it’d all been a horrible dream.” He pauses, picking out his words, and pulls his hair out of his jacket, letting it fall down the length of his back. “I was often moved from orphanage to orphanage and back again. I had… intricacies, as you know, that they hadn’t the means to deal with. I constantly asked for more books and puzzles and toys; I was too intelligent to be satisfied with anything they provided, which was one thing on its own, but that on top of having to pay for my prescribed eyewares and skin ointments was too much. They called me ‘unruly’ and sent me on my way.”

“You, unruly.” Gevanni smiles. “Imagine that.”

“Yes,” Near agrees. “By the time I arrived at Wammy’s, the color white had been the only constant in my life. It sounds strange to say now, but by that point, I had considered it almost a part of who I was. I still do. Even then, I knew it was irrational, but still I refused to wear anything else. The things children come up with to cope,” he muses, beginning to braid a strand of his hair, going cross-eyed and trusting Gevanni to lead the way. “When Mello died,” he starts, then stops, voice catching in his throat, feeling the weight of the cross hidden under his shirt like a noose around his neck, and abruptly aborts the thought. “I wanted to try being someone new,” he finishes lamely. He keeps braiding.

Gevanni nods like he understands, and Near briefly worries that he’ll prolong the conversation. “We’re here,” he says instead.

Near looks up at the fairgrounds, brushing aside his hair and letting the loose braid unravel in the process. “So we are. You have money, don’t you?” The other man looks stricken. He frantically begins patting down his pockets. “Otherwise this whole endeavor will have been pointless,” Near deadpans.

“I’VE FOUND IT, IT’S OKAY.” Gevanni pulls his wallet out from his fanny pack. “I’ll go get tickets for us. Wait here, please.”

Near waits.

Not even a minute later, a tiny girl with pigtails sidles up to him, cheeks sticky from the fried dough in her hands. “Your hair’s white, mister.” She doesn’t look older than six.

“Yes.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

“That’s cool,” she says, biting into her fried dough and spilling sugar onto the grass. “My hair’s magic.”

He highly doubts this to be true. But, on the off-chance that it is: “Oh?”

“Yeah.” She leans in close, and Near bends down to listen. “It turns brown in the sun!” She shoves her fried dough into Near’s hands, stepping a bit away to put her hands on her hips. “See, my hair’s black right now, okay? But look!” She hops out of the shade into the sunny clearing and holds up her pigtails. “Now it’s brown! Isn’t that cool?!”

It’s not. What was actually happening was that her black was really a very dark brown, and the pheomelanin pigment present —typically overshadowed by the eumelanin pigment— caused a lighter tone of brown to present itself when hit by direct sunlight. Hardly something to be called ‘magic.’ “It is,” he lies, and she beams at him.

Surprised, he tentatively smiles back.

“Alice!”

The little girl shrieks, “Mommy!” and runs into the arms of a woman by the ticket booths. “Mommy, he has white hair, but he agrees that my hair is cooler. Come see, come see!” Alice begins to tug her mom over to where Near was still squatting in the shade, still holding onto Alice’s sugary treat. Her mother eyes him with suspicion.

He gives them a single wave.

The little girl returns and retrieves her fried dough, and then her mother hurries her away, lecturing all the while over her complaints. Near’s hand drops.

Gevanni comes back with a bundle of yellow tickets in his hands. “What was that about, sir?”

He’s silent for a moment. “You think my hair’s cool, don’t you, Gevanni?” He pulls his sleeves over his hand until only his fingers poke out.

“U-um…? I mean, I do, but…”

“Nevermind,” says Near breezily.

“I-it’s not like I don’t think it’s cool, don’t get me wrong—”

“I said, ‘nevermind.’”

Gevanni shuts his mouth.

Near weaves a strand of hair between his fingers and over his knuckles, then releases it. He feels awkward. “...I’m glad you made it back safely.”

“But I just went to get—” Gevanni pauses, getting an amused look on his face when he asks, “Did you wanna try an Elephant Ear? I can get one for you.”

“Don’t you just want to see me spill sugar all over myself?” Near returns, then scans the fairgrounds. “Now, where are the plushies?”

The barrel of the gallery gun twists just slightly left at the end, so Near makes sure to adjust accordingly to the right, and after that, it’s almost too easy to hit the plastic cups off of the shelves. The barrel’s smoking by the time he finishes with the third row, and the attendant’s shakily asking for the gun back and telling him that he could pick out any of the plushies as long as he never came back.

“I can only take one?” He asks, doubtful. With how many cups he took out, he should get at least three, shouldn’t he?

“You can take as many as you fuckin’ want, man, just— just get outta here.”

Near surveys all of the toys hanging at the top of the booth, then glances back at Gevanni, who already has a couple of plastic bags filled with similar items and an aghast expression at the utter massacre of plastic cups before him. “Gevanni,” Near says.

The other man snaps to attention.

He looks back at the toys and regretfully limits himself to four. “We should have thought to bring a wagon.”

Gevanni sags, then stands up straight up again. “Wait a second.” He narrows his eyes at his companion. “Sir, isn’t your aim, like… really bad?”

Near raises his eyebrows at him, already holding plushies of a teddy bear, a frog, and a truly disgusting Minion within his arms. “Why do you say that?” He reaches for a pterodactyl to complete the set.

“Well, it’s just... I remember you used to have all those darts and you would aim them at the board and miss every single one. And then, either Ratt or I would have to collect them all off the floor for you.” Gevanni catches sight of Near’s sudden smirk. “Don’t tell me you— You did that on purpose?!”

Near’s smirk softens into a smile. “Please don’t misunderstand. As you’ve seen, I have certain needs that I’m sure other employers don’t require from their employees. It can become tedious, and it isn’t as though many CIA agents are trained to be caretakers… Whatever it was you all signed up for, the reality turned out to be quite different, did it not?” He picks at a loose string on the pterodactyl’s foot, thoughtful. “And I am… quite useless without others around to help me. I had to see if you would be able to put up with everything I asked you to, even if it seemed silly or ridiculous… It was a necessary measure.” The smirk returns. “Oh, and it was funny.”

Gevanni doesn’t seem to be paying attention to the jibe, though, and Near is somewhat unsettled by the earnest look in his eyes as they make eye contact. “You’re not useless, Near. Not in any sense of the word.”

“That’s hardly the point—”

“No, I know! I just…” Gevanni shifts his bags all into one hand, running his other hand through his dark hair. “Needing help for things like that— it doesn’t make you useless. Needing help in general isn’t a bad thing, and I’m sorry you ever thought…” He trails off, then starts again, “No, nevermind. But I do want you to know that you’ll always have people around to help you. You have a lot of people that care about you. I-including me.”

Near blinks. “Gevanni, you don’t work for me anymore,” he gently reminds him.

“I know that too!” Gevanni yells in response, already flushed cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. “I mean…” He quiets and rubs the back of his neck. “As a friend. I care about you as a friend.” Then, he turns serious again, the setting sun washing him in colors of fire and life and loyalty, and Near, he— “I don’t ever want you to feel as though you’re alone. Okay?”

(...Near goes breathless.)

Near turns away without answering, and instead says, “It’s been a while now. I suppose it’s time we head back.” He begins to walk away.

“Oh, um. Okay, sir.”

Gevanni moves to follow after him, but then Near adds, “It's been bothering me for a while, but you needn’t call me ‘sir,’ anymore, Gevanni. ‘Near’ is fine.” He looks back over his shoulder at him. “It’s alright if we’re friends, after all, isn’t it?”

The other man blinks owlishly at him, then breaks out into a grin. “Yes! Just ‘Stephen’ is okay, too!”

“Mm. Let’s go home, then, Stephen.”

“Happy birthday, L!” Ah, so there’s the promised surprise.

Near steps through the doorway with Stephen in tow, looking around at the confetti littering the floor and the streamers haphazardly hanging over computer screens. There’s a table set up in the middle of the room with a cake —half unfrosted— sitting on top; surrounding it is a collection of Near’s finger puppets. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble…”

Linda starts her finger-wagging. “Don’t even start! We wanted to do this for you, so I don’t wanna hear a word!”

Over bounds toward Near, peering at his toys with interest. “L, where’d you get so many toys?” They glance up at Stephen, who’d stepped around the pair of them to place the rest of Near’s winnings off to the side, then add in a whispered tone, “And where’d you pick up such a cute guy?”

“Stephen,” Near says, catching the man’s attention, “is a former employee of mine. He accompanied me to the carnival today.”

“Scandalous.”

Near gives them a stern look, but doesn’t deign to give them a response, and instead says, “Stephen, this is Overture. I’m training them to take over for me as L once I retire.”

“’Sup!” Over sticks out a friendly hand that Stephen doesn’t hesitate to shake. “You like banjos?”

“Um— no.”

Halle laughs as she enters the room. “Pity, that. O loves them.” She goes to help Near set his plushies with the rest of his bags and takes him aside to debrief him in her usual professional manner, “The puppy has been cleaned and fed, and it appears to be in good health. Commander Rester has already made arrangements to bring it to the animal shelter tomorrow morning.”

Near nods, stubbornly stoic. “Good work, Agent Lidner. I’ll be sure to thank the commander as well.”

Halle’s face softens. “Did you want to see the puppy?”

“Yes,” he replies.

She chuckles, redirecting him toward the kitchen area where Rester has an apron on over his trousers and the puppy is asleep on a soft pile of blankets and pillows nearby. It’s a strangely domestic scene that includes a neatly-swept floor, a variety of soapy pots on the counter, and a very buff man standing in the middle of it all up to his elbows in mostly-clean dishes.

Rester wipes his hands on his apron, stiffly nodding in greeting. “Sir.”

“Commander Rester,” Near says. “Thank you for all your hard work.”

“Yes. Please make sure to eat some of the food before you—” But Near is already sinking to the floor next to the puppy, knees cracking and popping grossly as he folds into his usual sitting position. Rester sighs. “Nevermind.”

“Will you—” Rester leaves the area, then returns with a tennis ball and a deck of tarot cards that he hands to his employer. “Ah. Thank you.” The man nods again, this time making to leave and rejoin the others, but he pauses when Near adds, “Please be sure to set some of your cooking aside for me, as well.”

At that, the older man smiles warmly. “Of course, sir. I’m glad you made it back safely.” He leaves.

Near takes out his cards.

He shuffles them, then after a second’s contemplation, sets out three cards facedown. He flips over the leftmost card. Four of Swords in reversed position (representing inaction and exhaustion). Then, the Empress, reversed as well (encouraging self-care… did Rester mess with his cards again?) Finally, the Fool is flipped over, upright (...signifying new beginnings). Past, present, and future. Hm.

He is shaken out of his musings when the puppy sniffles, then sneezes and wakes itself up. It lets out a high bark before catching sight of him and wagging its tail expectantly.

“Hello.” Near lets it sniff his hand before reaching to rub behind its ears. “Did you sleep well?”

The puppy answers him with a huff and sleepy eyes.

“Perhaps not well enough, then.” He continues rubbing in the hopes of having it fall back asleep, but it shakes off his hand and clambers into his lap to bite at the tennis ball. “If you’re still tired, then you should go back to sleep.” The puppy pushes the ball around with its nose and Near’s advice goes thoroughly ignored.

“That’s pretty ironic, coming from you,” Linda pipes up from where she’s leaning against the doorway. She can’t have been standing there for long; Linda always manages to announce her presence as soon as humanly possible, often without meaning to.

“Linda.”

“That’s my name!” She sits down cross-legged beside him, and pets the puppy as she asks, teasingly, “And what do the cards say today, O Wise One?”

“That Linda should mind her own fucking business,” Near shoots back flatly. He gathers up his cards, shuffles them again, then starts stacking them together while Linda giggles.

A few minutes of silence pass where Linda watches as he lays the groundwork for a rather uninspired cylindrical shape before she asks, voice uncharacteristically soft, “Can I help?”

“If you’d like.”

She nods, then takes out three of Near’s finger-puppets from her pocket —one black-haired, one brunet, and one blond— and doesn’t answer Near’s inquiring glance. She only smiles and shifts to stack cards together with steady hands. And when they’ve run out of cards, and the cylindrical structure looks awfully similar to a ruined Roman Colosseum, she picks up those three figurines and places them neatly in the middle. Near meets the gazes of the miniature Matt, Mello, and L —the real L— and doesn’t look away.

“Like fallen gladiators,” he mumbles out loud.

She shrugs. “They’d be proud of you, I think. Of the person you’ve become.”

“You’re optimistic.”

“Someone has to be.”

The puppy had fallen back asleep at some point with the tennis ball still half-hanging out of its jaw, so Linda gently pries the ball out as Near twists a strand of hair around his finger and tries to get lost in his thoughts. Then, Linda lays her head on his shoulder and entwines their hands together in a loose hand-hold that Near stops himself from pulling away from, and she says, “I really do think they’d be proud, y’know. I’m not just saying that.”

He hums in response.

“And if they’re not, then,” she squeezes slightly, “Rester and Lidner and O and I —that Stephen guy, too— we’re more than proud enough for all of them.”

With that, she relaxes into him fully, watches as he starts braiding that strand of hair, still wearing Rester’s baseball cap and Linda’s friendship bracelet and the gaudy windbreaker that Stephen didn’t like, and Near almost believes her. “...thank you, Linda.”

“Hey, Near?”

He rests his head against hers. “What is it?”

“Did you have a good day today?”

The cap, the bracelet, the jacket, Overture’s overzealous hands and Lidner’s lipstick smirk, the sunset and Stephen’s warm blue eyes, and three finger-puppets, and idly, Near wonders what L would think. He decides it doesn’t matter. Near curls his fingers around Linda’s, and says, with a peculiar upturn of his lips, “I did.”

---

a/n: i meant to get this out sooner but im really slow and this oneshot went thru a couple rewrites tbh,,,,, its still not exactly where i want it to be, but i think its pretty okay for what it is. this is my first time writing such a smart character haha, i wonder if i did okay ^^; i definitely had some trouble with writing him as true to his character as per canon vs the idea of him i had in mind, and i ended up going with what the near in my head wanted, so hes prolly a little ooc. lets be honest, why would near ever wanna go outside anyways, lol? the pacing i also felt was a little weird, and the oneshot also didn’t exactly have a running theme throughout, which is a shame, and i kinda wanted to make callbacks and references and stuff like that, but i suppose it follows the kind of “day in the life” feel that i wanted near to experience, so oh well! it was fun, anyways! btw, tumblr formatting is hella weird, total respect for everyone who’s ever posted a fic here before.

oh, some songs that i was thinking of while writing this: Answer; When Will My Life Begin? (Reprise 2)

#my writing #death note #near death note #nate river #hbd near 🥺🥺#dn

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