#we really are more graceful than what we’re capable of in our physical forms

[offdutyhimbo]

i possess more grace than this bag of sticks can express

i blame this on the weakness of your species

I said this before and I’ll say it again, you look amazing and these words are incredible. Thank you for submitting

[positivlyfocused]

More Proof On The Way To Becoming Super Human

It seems every week at least two significant spiritual things happen. These things prove I’m expanding as a spiritual being. This past week was no exception. What happens proves I’m uncovering my “supernatural powers”.

Of course such experiences are not “supernatural”. They’re things we all can do. Doing so just requires dedication. Dedication most people won’t put in. So it only seems such things are impossible. Or their possibility gets relegated to superheroes on the big screen. Many of us simply won’t prioritize such things.

Meanwhile, some people actively enjoy such abilities. Members of certain Buddhist Orders, for example, develop such capabilities. But even they may not go far. They see such abilities as distractions from their ultimate goal. Their ultimate goal being renunciation earthly desires, not developing occult powers.

I don’t consider such abilities distractions. I believe they serve vital purposes. They help people realize their godliness. Such experiences introduce people to their eternal natures. Experiencing them can even radically change individual life trajectories and society at large. They can change how we relate to each other. They can help eliminate human suffering by showing us how connected we all are. Connected not only to one another, but to all things.

They can even help us lose the fear of death.

Ending human suffering – one person at a time

That’s right, supernatural experiences relieve people of fear and insecurity. Fear and insecurity lie at the heart of many “bad” human behaviors. Mass shooters, aren’t born mass shooters, for example. Experience nurtures people into such states. Psychopaths aren’t born that way either. They become such people at the hands of other people.

All that can change if everyone directly experienced their immortality. If people knew they were integral parts of God, they’d fear one another less. They’d experience more grace and love from within. No matter the external conditions, such people could change their lives into better lives. Better lives for themselves and for others.

Changes like that can’t come from “faith” though. Which explains why religion often falls short. Religion can mollify insecurity and fear. But religion also can foment fear and insecurity. Especially those based on sin and damnation.

But direct experience of one’s eternal essence teaches differently. Directly experiencing one’s consciousness as it exists beyond the physical offers compelling, visceral, undeniable evidence. No one, for example, can deny out of body experiences exist. Not after directly experiencing one.

Positively Focused’s goal then is empowering people in this way. The practice shows them they are gods in human form. Through direct experience, the practice reconnects people with their immortality. From there, people discover what they really are. In time they free themselves from fear, suffering and insecurity. They find instead empowerment, freedom and joy. Then life becomes the joyful adventure that is the Charmed Life.

What is our potential?

My personal practice has me questioning many things nearly everyone takes for granted as impossible. What if, for example, things “superheroes” do in movies actually represent real-life human potential? What if we can fly? Can we travel to other dimensions? Can we shape shift?

I don’t think coincidence explains people’s fascination with superhero movies. Perhaps the reason we’re so fascinated is deep down we know such abilities are possible. But since so many don’t believe them, such abilities remain latent.

Until now. I know, I sound crazy. But my experience says maybe I’m not so crazy…

^^Abraham making an assertion I’m beginning to believe is accurate.

I’m testing that “craziness” to see what’s behind it. What I’m finding shows that maybe we can do more than our logical minds allow. Maybe…our potential is more unlimited than we believe.

My latest experience

Shape shifting, for example, is something I’m systematically exploring. Recent experience indicates I’m making progress. Of course, actually shifting my shape requires rather intricate and significant control of certain realms. It also requires highly refined abilities. Abilities accessible only in nonphysical. It also demands that I soothe a LOT of resistance, primarily resistance manifesting as disbelief. But also manifesting as fear.

And yet, evidence I am producing shows promise. Take, for example, this recent experience:

^^Notes from my experiences during session 187 titled: Preparatory sessions for shape-shifting?

Descriptions in this note pale in comparison to the actual experience. It was EXTREMELY profound. So real was the experience that it left me giddy days afterwards. And the fact that it ended seconds before my timer went off told me a greater intelligence was at work within me. An intelligence possessing a sense of humor and an awareness of my time experience. I attribute that intelligence to my Broader Perspective.

What was that experience?

In case you don’t know what “murmuration” is, here’s a video of the phenomena:

^^This is what my body felt like

Watch the “meta” structure the birds’ flight paths create. Note how that shape changes, but the number of birds and their orientation, while changing, remains cohesive. My body felt exactly like this. Though I perceived it maintaining its overall “shape”, I also sensed that it could change shape. That it actually was preparing to change.

I’m not quite ready for the full capability shape shifting implies. Not yet. Just as I’m not fully ready for fully-conscious OBEs. Otherwise, I’d be shape shifting now. And traveling to other realms and dimensions while fully aware of the experience.

That I’m not doing that (yet) tells me I still have some resistance. Fear remains the biggest resistant element between me and these full-blown experiences. My ego hasn’t quite acclimated itself to a realm in which it’s not designed to function. But it’s getting there.

As it does, that fear is subsiding.

What the future holds

Shape shifting is my future. As are the other occult abilities. I strongly believe this. I already am projecting my consciousness outside my body and aware I’m doing so. Everyone does this. Nearly everyone disbelieves they do this however. So they don’t remember doing it. Or, they aren’t aware of doing it. Or both. I’m becoming more and more aware of my out of body experiences. I record them. And I retain the experience. More and more, I’m becoming aware while in them. Doing so, I’m gradually extending my time in them. Changing the emanation that is my body will be a nice complement to out-of-body travel.

This whole exploration began with manifesting desirable circumstances and events in waking consciousness. It actually started with wanting to be more positive. Now, it has expanded a great deal. I never thought I would want to manifest these supernatural abilities. Abilities that actually aren’t so supernatural. But now that I’m starting to experience them directly, I can see how they were my destiny.

Someone must show humanity what’s possible. Someone must show us the future that can be ours. Perhaps that person is me. Want to join me and my clients in this pursuit? Contact me. Let’s talk about it.

[talenlee]

How To Be: Amaya from Dragon Prince (in 4e D&D)

In How To Be we’re going to look at a variety of characters from Not D&D and conceptualise how you might go about making a version of that character in the form of D&D that matters on this blog, D&D 4th Edition. Our guidelines are as follows:

This is going to be a brief rundown of ways to make a character that ‘feels’ like the source character

This isn’t meant to be comprehensive or authoritative but as a creative exercise

While not every character can work immediately out of the box, the aim is to make sure they have a character ‘feel’ as soon as possible

The character has to have the ‘feeling’ of the character by at least midway through Heroic

When building characters in 4th Edition it’s worth remembering that there are a lot of different ways to do the same basic thing. This isn’t going to be comprehensive, or even particularly fleshed out, and instead give you some places to start when you want to make something.

Another thing to remember is that 4e characters tend to be more about collected interactions of groups of things – it’s not that you get a build with specific rules about what you have to take, and when, and why, like you’re lockpicking your way through a design in the hopes of getting an overlap eventually. Character building is about packages, not programs, and we’ll talk about some packages and reference them going forwards.

She’s power, she’s grace, she’ll punch you in the face, she’s a queen, she’s a knight, she’s here to have a fight, she’s Amaya from The Dragon Prince!

Now hold up, before we go any further, let’s discuss, real quick, what a character with a disability is like in D&D and how you should handle them. And then, before I go into on that let me be clear I am not talking to people with disabilities and how they should handle roleplaying their own characters. They know better than I do. What I want to talk about is how a player who doesn’t have any experience with a disability may approach a playing a character who lives with it, and how they ‘should’ handle it.

The ‘should’ is tricky, so let me simplify this for you: Disability is not transactional. You do not get bonuses for limiting your character in a particular way and you do not need mechanics to assert that limitation. The game rules indicate that a character can move through a space, navigate daily life and cope entirely with the space around them in a standardised way, and that any given character you play is capable of doing those things. This means if your character lacks a major sensory capacity or has a mobility limitation, even with that incorporated they can navigate life at the same standard as other characters. If your character has a base movement of 6, then that character in a wheelchair still has a base movement of 6. How? I don’t know, ask them, they’re clearly really good at using that wheelchair to get around!

Remember that your characters can already be taller or shorter or harder of hearing or shortsighted or longsighted and the game rules do not impose limitations on you because you have ‘more or less’ of a physical capacity. The game rules are for handling the function of game entities within a fictionalised space, and the fiction is an explanation for how those functions work. If your character has deafness, then that is part of the fiction, and it is merely a little bit less than a character who is hard of hearing. Use the fiction to tell the story, and look to the rules to resolve disputes, not to create that fiction.

In this context, the disability is deafness. Amaya has deafness, and communicates primarily through a sign language (and violence). There are multiple characters who understand her and can communicate with her meaningfully. Your character who’s like Amaya probably can do the same, and then it’s just a matter of who around them knows the sign language. I think that a DM should strongly consider just making ‘sign’ versions of languages a freebie for player characters, because that’s cool and also it means you can represent people’s relationships to the sign language users in the setting by who chooses not to learn it. Ie, you get to signal who excludes the character with deafness rather than present the idea of including them as exceptional and noteworthy.

“Most people in the real world don’t speak sign,” sure and most people in the real world don’t have to wonder about fucking dragon attacks. It’s a game based on telling interesting stories, don’t be boring.

In the context of a D&D universe, there’s definitely something the story could use this for: It’s essentially introducing another, previously unconsidered axis of language to the game. I think that there’s a really interesting conversation to be had here, but I’ll tell ya this much: Every single shopkeeper in the goddamn world where your profit and loss exchanges can count into a year’s worth of funding are going to spend the time to learn some of this language.

I also want to note that I refer to Amaya as ‘having deafness’ rather than ‘being Deaf.’ Being Deaf, with a capital D, refers to a cohort of people who experience the disability and determine it as a distinct cultural group that they self-identify as being in. It’s not my place to call a character a member of that group if they haven’t told me that, and I haven’t asked Amaya. This is a conversation for Deaf people to have and for me to keep my face out of.

Examining Amaya

I fear this is going to be a little boring, honestly. Amaya is an example of an extremely standard, usefully clear character. We know she doesn’t do magic, we know she doesn’t have special abilities, but we also know she can hang with skill and grit at the level of the characters who do.

Amaya wears heavy armour and fights with a shield. Her fighting style can be destructive and mobile, pushing people around and shoving through things rather than sneaking around.

That’s kind of it, though! For all that she’s a character with a lot going on, in terms of ‘what she can do,’ you’re talking about a melee capable knightly type with heavy armour and a shield. That’s it, we have a very nicely defined, fairly tight box to work in, and what’s more, it’s a space the game system can express very easily.

Essentials

But don’t worry, we can still find something fun to play around with.

Glossary Note: Conventionally, the term used in D&D for this mechanical package is race. This is the typical term, and in most conversations about this game system, the term you’re going to wind up using is race. For backwards compatibility and searchability, I am including this passage here. The term I use for this player option is heritage.

Heritage, uh, basic, simple. Depending on how much you want your character to look like Amaya? You probably want to go with a Human. Something that gets a strength bonus. I’m sure that if you punched in ‘Amaya, But She’s A Hot Orc’ would get you a lot of good results on Tumblr. You’re not going to need the heritage to cover a mechanical demand of the character so the question becomes ‘what do you want her to look like?’ I know I wouldn’t pick a heritage that adds something magical to her – not an Eladrin or a Shifter, for example – because the character’s vibe is very importantly a tough lady who can fight. Heritage is therefore, a wild option. Amaya doesn’t look a lot like a Warforged, Minotaur, Dwarf or Dragonborn, but I bet you could interpret her very easily as a Mul.

Anyway, about that shield.

As it stands, 4e D&D does not have a lot of space to handle a character who fights with a shield. Shields exist in the system, but they’re not the same kind of expandable, supported device as they were back in 3rd edition, in part because the more complicated that system gets, the more it gets in the way of doing other things. In later 3rd edition, it was not uncommon for everyone to have a levitating, floating shield hovering around them, even if they were a wizard because the actual piece of equipment was only limited by gold access.

In 4e D&D, shields are very different; there are three shields available to play with as categories, and they’re barbed, light, and heavy. These shields can be enchanted, but the armour bonus they provide is small and doesn’t constantly expand. Enchantments for them are much more about small categorical bonuses rather than scaling advancement. Think more like a wondrous item that gives you an armour bonus than a scaling piece of your armour set.

You can get an enchantment that makes your shield a kind of bad short sword. I don’t like it because it’s magical and it creates the impression that you can only fight with the shield because of magical abilities. Instead, I’d propose talking to your GM about this in very simple mechanical terms: You are mechanically, going to have a shield and wield a flail or hammer, but thematically, you are fighting with a shield and have your other hand free.

This is not an unreasonable ask; there are very few times when ‘but you have a hammer in your hand and a shield in the other’ are going to interfere with a scene. Imagine a scenario where someone throws something to your character and you need to catch it – if you were ‘really’ wielding a weapon and a shield, you could drop the weapon to catch the object, and then when you have the object, put it away and start wielding the weapon again. The weapon could be chained to your wrist for easy retrieval or it could be dropped on the floor, and either way the ‘readjusting to fight with it’ could be hand-waved away as needing a moment. There’s a lot of space for the thematics to hide the mechanics there. Your ‘invisible weapon’ takes time to get ready, because you need to (say) strap your shield in place and it limits your ability to get at things properly because you’re wearing heavy gauntlets, that kinda thing.

They are still separate items; you have to enchant your shield and your hammer separately. And you’ll want to make sure they’re kinda unobtrusive — as much as choices like Mark of Thunder and a thundering weapon would rock socks, you probably want them to feel as close as possible to mundane items.

I think it’s hard to argue that Amaya isn’t a fighter. Maybe she’s a knight, maybe she’s a slayer (ew), whatever. But with the shield and her overall disposition, it’s hard to imagine an Amaya homage not being a defender who doesn’t use magic, and that gives you one nice, clear option, the baseline PHB fighter. This is good news though because the baseline fighter kicks ass.

Your build options then aren’t about what class or heritage to pick, but rather about how to build within that space, and I have three suggestions for you there. What weapon do you use to represent Amaya?

Grappling Fighter

Hey look at that, this one’s right out of the box! Ask the DM very politely if your ‘shield’ can actually be a hammer (because it’s a big blunt weapon) and keep your off-hand empty. This empty hand lets you use all the grappling techniques of the Brawler Fighter, and use the Brawler Style grappling fighter move to grab anyone who tries to get away from you. You don’t need to keep them there – let them spend time trying to wiggle away from you – but just take advantage of hitting them and stopping them moving for a turn.

Funnily enough, this build? Doesn’t get to take advantage of a shield. There are some weapons with the Defensive Property, which is similar, but they’re all double weapons, so no shield. We’ll get back to those anyway, he says, winking at the camera.

Hammer Handed

The Hammer is your easiest option for Amaya. The Hammer is a well-supported, powerful weapon that also works just fine without any support. It’s blunt damage so you don’t have to ask the question about how your fists are doing ‘slashing’ damage. You can invest a lot of feats in supporting a Hammer or you can invest almost no feats in it, and either way you’re going to wind up with a pretty cool weapon. You can get a brutal one-handed hammer in the Craghammer, or if you don’t want to spend a feat, the Warhammer. 1d10 is a lot of chunky damage!

This kind of build wants to focus on having a good AC; you have a shield, so you want to take advantage of it. The fighter has a lot of powers that are about pushing, so you probably want to build for that. This is a build that works right out of the gates and doesn’t take any time to mature, unlike the grappling fighter that can occasionally bite off more than it can chew by keeping everyone close to it at levels 1-2.

Ch-Ch-Chainges

And then we get to the flail, my beloved.

Flails give you control in terms of turning slides into knockdown if you want. If you wind up building in a way that adds slides to your attacks, you can turn that into a knockdown. This can make you very good at throwing people around a battlefield but also keeping them there when you’re done with the throw-around. At level 1 with flail expertise, if you’re using a flail, Footwork lure lets you shift a square away from an enemy, then leave them prone exactly 1 square away from you – meaning their turn has to be getting up and either getting past you (bad idea, you’re a fighter, and they’re marked) or attacking you. Except attacking you involves getting close and you’re too close to charge.

I love this, it’s such a great trick to be able to do at level 1, and I find when I play this kind of build I wind up looking at the battlefield like a scrabble board, wondering how I can cut it up with where I stand to ruin people’s days. And what’s more, it’s optional! You can shift right next to them and not away from them! You can just use the slide as a slide! And this is, again, level 1!

Junk Drawer

If you want to spend a feat on gussying up your flail and dispose of the ‘shield’ , the Kusari-Gama is a two-handed superior defensive flail with reach. I like this a lot for representing Amaya suddenly and abruptly reaching out to hit you – like step-step-SMACK – then back to her starting position, especially if you use that with slides. It creates the impression of a character who’s moving faster than ‘should be possible,’ even if it’s all working properly under the hood. Being defensive, it gives you a shield bonus, which I like a lot as a way to wed these ideas together.

Also you could go with a multiclass monk to get a melee fist attack, which means you fight just fine without your gear, which is important for some takes on the character. I personally don’t need it, but that’s cool too. If you’re aiming for an Amaya that doesn’t take centre stage as a tank, the Warlord and Ranger can fill in the same job, and I do kind of love the idea of a Warlord who expresses herself without all the shouting and bluster people normally demand of the Warlord conceptually. The Ranger could even wield the Kusari-Gama as a twin-striking weapon.

Conclusion

The language I used in this document to refer to Amaya and her deafness was informed in part by the United Nations document on inclusive language, and an Australian government form on the same thing. I spent some time reading Deafness Tumblr for similar opinions though none of that feels like it was very formally structured and was largely about people within the group talking to and about one another.

But hopefully you’ve noticed how little I needed that document here about deafness. Amaya is cool and capable and interesting and presents an interesting challenging without anyone needing to ad hoc how she relates to feeling a big painful pressure wave from a thunderstone rocking her body the same way it rocks anyone else’s body.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#HowToBe #DungeonsDragons #Games #Uncategorised

[nitewrighter]

Pre-Fall fic idea for a slow day: Echo asks McCree to go on a date. Liao thinks it'll be a good learning experience for her.

“...I dunno about this...” McCree straightened the collar on his shirt. Why did he dress up for this? Why did Liao feverishly take notes on her tablet when she saw he dressed up for this?

“I think it’s a great opportunity,” said Liao, poking at her tablet.

“See the way you’re gettin’ all excited about it makes me feel like a guinea pig.”

“Echo likes you. She trusts you. This is a chance for her to rapidly expand her social interaction repertoire.”

“It’s still weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Well... how does it work with the age thing?”

Liao snorted. “What?”

“I mean she just got the body! Don't that make it... y'know...”

“The frame is new, yes, but the bare bones of her coding are only a couple years younger than you,” Liao said breezily, “Her processing levels were miles beyond yours well before she even had a body.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s computer science, Jesse, it’s nothing personal.”

“Why’d you give her hips?”

“Well, controlling said body actually has massive processing demands on its own, so you could say what could be recognized as her pelvic region hosts an 'auxiliary AI core'--"

"There's a brain in her ass?"

"Arguably, humans have a secondary brain in their colonic region--"

"There's a brain in my ass?!"

"We're getting off topic. There's a secondary AI core focused on mechanical coordination that is housed in her pelvic region, it was large enough to warrant certain design shifts to suit her center of gravity, and I wanted a friendly and appealing silhouette so --” Liao perked up, “So you noticed the hips?”

McCree’s face burned and he glanced off.

Liao rolled her eyes and smiled. “Jesse... if this goes really badly, I can just erase it from her memory.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m only saying, the stakes aren’t that high,” said Liao, "I think it's cute that you're getting nervous."

"Nervous, hell! I just don't know what to make of it!"

"You've had plenty of perfectly pleasant conversations with her--"

"They weren't dates!"

"Did you just say yes because you didn't want to hurt her feelings?" the brightness and absolute lack of accusation in Liao's voice only unsettled McCree further.

"N-no..." McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I--I wasn't really thinking. I guess... I assumed you'd think I'd wreck it or... or wreck her and you'd... write it out of her code..."

"Interesting..." Liao tapped her tablet stylus on her chin.

"I ain't that good with sciencey shit! Reyes brought me on to shoot things!" McCree shrugged a little helplessly, "And the way you talk about her, I don't know if she's a--a work in progress, or-or your kid so..."

"A little bit of both. This is where AI gets messy," said Liao with a smile, "You don't know if you're making something human... but you get to make something new."

McCree just stared at Liao for a few seconds, opened his mouth to say something, realized he had no idea what to say to that, and then closed his mouth.

"It's going to be wonderful," said Liao, gently putting a hand on the back of McCree's shoulder.

"Wait--Is there anything I should---?" McCree started but the door slid open and Liao more or less shoved him out into Zurich Headquarters' courtyard gardens. It was twilight, Friday night, and strings of fairy lights had been strung around the sycamores, magnolias, and plum trees that decorated the garden. A couple of brightly colored paper lanterns were strung along the lines of electric lights, giving the usual contemplative and monumental air of the garden a more warm and festive feeling. McCree scanned the garden, seeing a table set with candles and a small basket of bread about 15 feet ahead of him.

"Jesse?" McCree heard a familiar voice and swiveled on his heel to see... a glowing blue-white Dolly Parton circa 1974 in a daisy-patterned peach sundress.

"Whuh..." McCree's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Is this okay?" Dolly Parton spoke with Echo's voice and McCree visibly flinched again. "Oh you don't like it--" The glowing Dolly Parton pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Give me a moment! I can fix it!"

"Echo--?" McCree started, but holographic pixels spiraled around the not-Dolly Parton and reshaped her into.... Olivia Rai, her usual afro styled into the more-textured Gibson Girl hairstyle she sported in Six Gun Killer. 

"What about this?" said Echo, "Is this all right?"

"I mean I like the movie but--" McCree started but the pixels whirled around Echo.

"Lee Byung-Hun, 2016, Magnificent Seven," said Echo. “My scans of your hormone levels showed an overwhelming positive reaction to him.” Again, this hologram form was still in the sundress.

Okay we really need to talk about the scanning thing, thought McCree, but he just stammered out, "They're all really nice, Echo, but you don't have to--" McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, I think we'll both be more comfortable if you're... you, y'know?"

"Me? But it's so..." 2016 Lee Byung-hun Echo twiddled her fingers nervously, "It's so..."

"It's the you I know," said McCree, shrugging, "I like it, Echo, really."

The hologram fell away from Echo in a shower of cubic pixels, revealing a partially holographic head on a heavily modified omnic frame. She was a patchwork between a handful of standard omnic parts and sleek parts whipped up on-site at this point. No wings. The sundress sagged a little off her metal frame.

"There you are," said McCree.

Echo smiled a little. "Sorry... the hologram capabilities were for optimal interfacing... so I thought..."

"I get it," said McCree with a smile, "I was a little nervous too."

"You were?!" said Echo, "But you're so... charming! And my scans of your antibodies revealed that it was very statistically likely you have had higher than average amounts of--"

"Hoookay! Moving on!" McCree said quickly.

"Moving on," said Echo, processing this.

There was the sound of a cybernetic throat being cleared and both McCree and Echo turned their heads to see Genji in a long-sleeved collared shirt, black vest, bow tie, and apron.

"Genji?" said McCree, suppressing a laugh in his voice.

"...not a word," said Genji.

"I know I got stuck as the waiter back in Venice but this is--"

"I said not a word!" said Genji, furiously. He drew in a steadying inhale. "Ma'am and sir. If I may direct you to your table."

"...oh this is rich--" McCree started.

"McCree, I know 37 ways of killing you in under 11 seconds, do not test me," said Genji.

"Uh huh," said McCree, "Show us the way, Garçon."

Genji muttered something under his breath in Japanese as he lead them to the table. McCree hurried over to Echo's side and pulled out her chair for her.

"Oh--Thank you!" said Echo, sitting down.

Genji rolled his eyes as McCree took his own seat. "Liao was able to negotiate with the headquarters chefs,” he said, setting glasses of water on the table, “You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus."

"So there's not a menu--?" McCree started.

"You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus," said Genji, with about as much murder as anyone could inject into the words 'Chicken scallopini and asparagus.'

"Okay," said McCree meekly as Genji walked off briskly.

"Er--don't mind him," said McCree as Genji walked off, "Blackwatch suspended... getting antsy, y'know."

"I don't," said Echo, equally pleasantly and blankly.

McCree cleared his throat and grabbed some bread from the basket between them, buttering it. "Well... You heard about the Venice incident, right?"

"I did not," said Echo, "I'm quarantined from most networked systems."

"Mm," McCree took a bite of his buttered bread, "Well... the long and short of it is, we fucked up."

"Not you!" said Echo on reflex.

"Well, not me, at first--but we had to follow through on the fuck-up if we were going to get out of it alive," said McCree with a shrug.

"I'm sure you did your best," said Echo, picking up a piece of bread. They both knew she couldn't eat, so instead, she seemed to be using it as something to do with her hands, breaking it off into bits.

"Eh, I don't think any of us were at our best," said McCree, "But... you do what you can, right?"

""Mm-hmm," Echo nodded, "Doctor Liao's been able to convince a handful of operatives to bring my AI processor on the orca with certain missions to observe, but my speech is disabled. Apparently it 'freaks people out.'" Echo glanced off resentfully.

"Not you?" said McCree.

Echo nodded. "And I know Morrison doesn't like me learning combat tactics."

"Echo, I can't think of anyone who loves humanity more than you," said McCree.

"Thank you, Jesse," said Echo. She was silent for a few beats. "And.... thank you for doing this. I--I don't know how you see me..."

"I'm still figuring that out too," said McCree, smiling a little, "But... I like to think I'm a good judge of character. And I'm proud to know you. And I'm proud that I mean enough to you to be here."

Echo's hologram face brightened, and she glanced off, a bit bashfully. "I--I can't even eat bread," she said quietly, smiling as she glanced down at the small pile of shredded bread bits on her plate.

"Psh. Bread. You can turn into whoever you want. Why worry about bread?" said McCree.

Echo snickered a little.

"...who's your favorite to turn into?" asked McCree, "I know you were turnin' into all that stuff earlier for me because of all the stuff we talked about and those dumb movies we watched--”

“I don’t think they’re dumb--”

 “But... what about you? Is there a person you like turning into?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I would say...Figure skaters," she said thoughtfully.

"Figure skaters?" McCree repeated.

"Not any individual one, but I’ve been putting together a composite hologram of several of them," said Echo, "Skaters, they--they aren't ruled by the same physics as other humans. All that power, all that grace, all on a plane that does not have the same rules of speed or friction."

"Bet you'd be a hell of a dancer," said McCree, smiling.

"I like to think I'm learning," said Echo, with a slightly smug shrug.

"Chicken scallopini," a plate clanked unceremoniously in front of McCree and McCree flinched to attention to see Genji next to him.

"Jesus, man! A little warning next time!" said McCree.

"Ninja," said Genji flatly.

"What about her?" said McCree, pointing at Echo.

Genji looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Jesse, it's fine," said Echo. She waved her hands and a hologram of what appeared to be lobster thermidor glowed into existence in front of her.

"...she can take care of herself," said Genji, walking off, "Let me know if you need a refill on water."

"Don't mind him," McCree said again.

"I don't," said Echo, materializing a holographic fork into existence and taking a holographic bite of her holographic food.

McCree sectioned off bites of his own meal and took tentative bites and chews, but it was good. A faint 'Mm' fell out of him and he opened his eyes to see Echo closely observing him. He took another bite, not taking his eyes off of Echo this time. Echo seemed to do the same, imitating him. But it wasn't quite the same, he observed. There was a lot of Liao in her, the way she'd stuff food off to one cheek and slowly parse it out as long as she needed while she multitasked. He saw it in all the nights Liao had brought takeout to the lab. In this case, Echo perfectly adapted Liao's eating habits to McCree's.

McCree swallowed hard. "Do you ever uh... make food... make you happy?"

"What do you mean?" said Echo.

"Well, if you eat really good food, you go, like, 'mm' and stuff--if all the food is only stuff you come up with... how does that work?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I... never thought of food as stimulating the pleasure response. Mostly it just seemed necessary for interfacing. Does it stimulate a pleasure response?"

McCree tried not to focus too hard on the words 'Pleasure response.' "Well, it depends on the food," said McCree.

"Does your food stimulate a pleasure response?"

"I mean compared to the rest of the shit I've had this month? Definitely," said McCree with a shrug.

"I see," said Echo. She looked at her food for a few seconds. She took a bit of her own holographic meal and a deep, sensual "Mmnh," bloomed out of her, her shoulders bunching up and her head tilting back with the sensation.

McCree sharply inhaled, realized his mouth was full of chicken scallopini, and coughed and choked for nearly a minute.

"Did I do it wrong?!" Echo asked with alarm.

"N--" McCree coughed, "No--" He coughed again, "You're-- You're doin' fine--"

Echo giggled. “I--I’m sorry, I’m still deciphering the appropriate forms of human pleasure.”

McCree found his face burning again and just gulped down some of his water.

“...that was an odd thing to say,” said Echo, glancing off.

“Nah, I’ve been told I’m old-fashioned a lot,” said McCree with a dismissive hand wave.

“Well, that’s why I like you,” said Echo, shyly.

McCree’s chews slowed.

“You... feel solid. I know I can trust you to... to tell me what you think... but.. also to be kind. I don’t know what other people want from me, but I know you just want another person. And... you’re very open in terms of what that person can be.” 

“Well I can tell you you don’t need to be Dolly Parton to win me over,” said McCree with a shrug and another bite of his food.

Echo giggled again and McCree swallowed.

“I’m still not sure if I’m doing this right,” said Echo, smiling down at her own hologram food. 

“Eh, you don’t really think of it in terms of ‘doing it right’--it’s mostly just about both of you having a good time. And trust me, you’re a better date than a lot that I’ve had,” said McCree with a snicker, “I just hope I’m doing it right too, y’know? It’s a lot of pressure, being anyone’s first date.”

“Oh!” Echo perked up, “I never thought of it that way....”

“Am I doing it right?” said McCree with a slight lopsided smile.

“Hmm...” Echo seemed to genuinely and very seriously ponder this.

“Oh come on, you’re making me nervous!” said McCree.

“Current assessments are... positive,” said Echo, “More data may be necessary to confirm any findings I’ve drawn thus far. We may have to do this again. An experiment is useless unless you can replicate its results”

“So... second date then?” said McCree, “That’s generally considered a good sign.”

“Oh! So I’m good at this!” said Echo.

“Sure are,” said McCree with a snicker.

Echo beamed. 

“Think we might have to do something other than dinner next time, though. I think if we try to get Genji in a waiter outfit again, he may actually kill me.”

“I estimate by his hormone levels and body temperature that there is an 89% likelihood of that occurring, yes,” said Echo. They both laughed for a little bit, and as the giggles died down Echo tilted her head. “So... you’ve been on bad dates?”

“Oh, terrible dates--but I don’t want to bore you---”

“It could be very useful data!” said Echo with that same brightness Liao had shown when she saw McCree being nervous.

McCree rubbed his chin. “Well... there’s a couple funny stories....”

-----

McCree was humming when he arrived in the Blackwatch sector later that night, bobbing his head and shoulders a bit with his humming as he loosened his bolo tie and took off his hat.

“Sounds like someone had a good time,” Reyes was seated in front of Blackwatch’s main monitor, mindlessly leafing through some paperwork.

McCree barely interrupted his own humming with an “Mm-hmm” as he kept walking past. 

“Reyes, you really must find a way to end Blackwatch’s suspension, or I fear he’ll romance one of the custodian’s vacuuming bots, next,” said Moira, leaning against the desk next to Reyes.

“Eh, if it means getting Genji in a bowtie again...” Reyes shrugged.

“You will never get me in a bowtie again,” Genji seethed from a shadowed corner.

“You asked for a mission--” Reyes started, but cut himself off as the three of them watched McCree continue to walk and hum down to his own quarters.

“...by god, I think he actually had a good time,” Reyes said quietly.

“Madness is setting in,” Moira mused.

“We need to get out in the field again,” Genji said, his voice tense.

“Or maybe you just need a date,” said Reyes shrugging. Reyes heard the audible click of the shuriken plate on Genji’s arm as Genji’s shoulders tensed up. “...or not.”

[fandom-space-princess]

Every Day's Most Quiet Need

midam week prompt 5: whisper - (v) speak very softly using one's breath without one's vocal cords, especially for the sake of privacy/(n) a soft or confidential tone of voice; a whispered word or phrase

Rating: Teen [2.5k words, a tiny bit h/c, mostly just sort of sweet]

Some things can't be spoken aloud. The only way to get them out is to say them as softly as you can.

read below the cut, or on AO3

When Adam thinks of whispers, he thinks of Michael's wings.

-----

"Michael? Why are you shivering?"

Maybe a silly question. The Cage is cold. An understatement, of course, but trying to hyperbolize about it has never taken the sting out. No matter how Adam tries to wrap it up in description, thinking of it as frozen as the Arctic tundra or the original ice cube or goddamn Minneapolis in February is never enough to distract from bitter reality.

So: the Cage is cold.

Shouldn't matter, though, and usually it doesn't. Michael is an inferno inside his chest, and he runs hot even by angelic standards (at least, according to him; not that Adam has any basis for comparison). Adam barely registers the frigidity of the place, and as far as he knows the cold bothers Michael not at all, either from his vantage in Adam's head or, as he's taken to doing more and more lately, manifesting as a separate presence.

Not that he's really asked. They've been down here for close to two hundred years, and it's only the last fifty or so that the rapport between them has been something resembling friendly.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Michael curls himself up smaller near the wall of the Cage, knees clasped to his chest, and slips into what Adam has privately begun to refer to as his Stoic Angel Face. The juxtaposition strikes him as odd: this intense, commanding creature, tucked into the corner like a human child, tight with tension, but wearing an expression that would seem more at home on a commander of armies, or carved into a mountainside.

Adam has been looking at Michael for two centuries, though. He's getting good at spotting the cracks in his masks.

He settles himself down next to Michael, a bare few inches separating them. "Ok. Say I believe you. You're still pretty clearly uncomfortable right now. Can I... is there anything I can do to help?" He rests a hand cautiously on Michael's arm, watching his face closely. Doesn't miss the flicker of Michael's eyes to where they touch, then away again, tight and guilty like he doesn't want Adam to see.

He leans into it, though, and Adam shifts to press into his side, shoulder to shoulder.

This close, he can feel the fine shivers still running through Michael's frame. Can make out the shallowness of his breathing.

"Michael. Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't usually hang around out here when you want to be left alone. So what's up?"

Michael sighs. "As you say, I am merely uncomfortable. I — the last time we fought —" He nods across the Cage, at the far shadowy corner where Lucifer broods in solitude, "— I sustained a few... minor injuries. Injuries I am incapable of healing except by waiting for my grace to recover. In much the same way as your body would heal naturally."

Adam blinks. He doesn't know what he'd expected, but that — that wasn't it. Lucifer and Michael often scrap with each other. When they first arrived, it had been out of genuine fury. But as they have settled into a more permanent resignation to life in this place, Adam has come to suspect that their ongoing fighting is mostly out of habit, and frustration.

At least now they do it in their own forms. Being conscripted into participation on a physical level, especially when Sam had still been present, had not been among Adam's favorite activities.

He casts his gaze over Michael, critically. "You don't look injured anywhere that I can see. Is it — it's an angel thing, isn't it."

"Yes." Michael fidgets against the wall. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Another bitter sigh. With a face like he regrets ever consenting to participate in this conversation at all, Michael mutters, "My wings hurt."

"Your... oh." He understands, suddenly, why Michael is reluctant to talk about this. While there is no longer any aspect of each other that either of them is uncomfortable with, at least on a physical level (Adam's body has been home to both archangelic grace and human soul for an order of magnitude longer than he had ever occupied it alone), Michael's wings aren't entirely physical, even by his particularly lax definition of the term. They're tied up too closely with his grace, with his power, with his place in Heaven and the burdens that come with it. Adam has seen them, time to time, out of the corner of his eye. Knows that Michael can and does manifest them when he's coping with some severe emotion.

Usually violence. Or fear.

He fidgets again, and shivers, and the emotionless mask he tries to keep in place is betrayed by the tightness around his eyes. Adam realizes that he's never seen Michael look quite so shaky, quite so miserable. How much pain does it take, he wonders, to make the Sword of Heaven look like he wants nothing more than to sink into merciful unconsciousness?

Which is a good point, actually.

"I know you've gotten in fights before, bad ones. I've never seen you like this." He nudges Michael gently with his shoulder. "What's so different now? Is it that we're stuck here, something about the Cage?"

"No, it's... well. To be blunt: I have never injured part of my noncorporeal form this badly while also possessing a corporeal one." His voice has dropped to a low murmur, and Adam tilts his head closer. He's curled in on himself, as though making himself as small as he can. "If I were to leave you, I could tend to the problem much more quickly. Given our circumstances, that would likely be unpleasant for me, and fatal for you." His eyes dart to Adam, then away again.

Oh.

"You'd rather be in pain then risk hurting me?" Adam asks softly.

A scowl is all the acknowledgement he gets for his trouble, before Michael returns to staring fixedly off into the middle distance.

"I care about you too, you know," he says. He rests a hand on the archangel's arm again, in reassurance. Once again, he leans into the contact, a response which seems almost involuntary.

Interesting.

Testing a theory, Adam leans back against the wall of the Cage. Slowly, allowing Michael time to object if desired, he stretches an arm out and settles it lightly over his shoulders. Michael goes utterly still, and Adam wonders if he's made a mistake. He's about to draw back, offer an apology, when some measure of the tension leaves Michael's frame and he relaxes fractionally against Adam.

"You'd tell me if there was anything I could do to help, right? I want to know, if there is."

"I don't want to presume upon you further than I already have. Given time, I'll be fine."

"So there is something. Come on, halo, out with it. Let me help."

Michael frowns, then shivers again, appears to reach a decision.

"Fine." He uncoils himself from Adam's embrace, and moves to kneel a few feet away. Pointedly meets Adam's gaze, and holds it, as if in challenge.

A crackle like embers from a fire along his skin, raising goosebumps over his arms, and a soft displacement of air. And then —

— he's seen them before, of course, but never dead on like this. Michael's wings are gigantic, and beautiful: the soft grey of storm clouds, fading to a darker slate blue at the tips of the largest feathers. Threads of silver and steel grey etch through them, and they refract the dim light oddly, half-translucent, as though they only partially exist in this plane. Which, now that Adam thinks about it, they probably do.

They're also a mess. From where he sits, Adam can see patches of broken and scorched feathers, clumps of dried blood and sulfur, places where the flesh has started to heal badly. A pang of sympathy, like a lightning bolt through his chest, and he's extending one hand out toward Michael on impulse before he realizes what he's doing.

"You can't reach them, can you? While you're possessing me? That's what you meant."

Michael's eyes track his hand, the aborted gesture hanging in midair. His face and posture have gone closed-off, rigid, like Adam might change his mind at the last moment and strike him instead. "The metaphor is imperfect, but that's essentially accurate. In Heaven, I could tend my own form. Here, my options are... limited."

Adam slides closer, until he sits at his side, facing him. Watching Michael for any sign of distress or hesitation, he extends his hand until the tips of his fingers brush a patch of uninjured feathers over his shoulder. They're softer than they look, and they buzz faintly under his touch, a barely perceptible hum of bioelectric feedback.

Jaw clenched, Michael looks away. Nods once. Presses the wing forward against Adam's hand.

"I'm going to clean the injured parts as much as I can, ok?" Adam says gently, trying to catch Michael's gaze. When that fails, he reaches out to clasp a hand to his shoulder, squeezes once. "Let me know if I should stop."

He grazes his fingertips over one of the burned patches, and Michael hisses, flinching away.

"No," he responds immediately as Adam draws back by reflex. He catches Adam's hand in one of his own, lightning quick, and shakes his head. Deliberately presses the hand back against the scorched feathers. A wince, but his eyes lock on Adam's. "You won't hurt me." His voice falls to nearly a whisper, and his hand drops away. "Please."

This time, when Adam touches him, he is still.

The damage is extensive, and Michael's wings are... well, there's a lot of ground to cover. Adam suspects that he's not getting the whole picture, somehow; that what he sees are only the parts of himself that Michael has chosen (or, perhaps, is able) to bring forward into this plane. That there might, in truth, be more injuries over more of him — and in more dimensions — than Adam's mind is capable of perceiving.

He hums as he works, fingers combing careful through clumps of feathers. Straightening those healthy enough to be salvaged, pulling away bits of dried blood and occasionally tugging free those feathers too bent or broken to be saved. Michael makes a low, pained sound deep in his chest at the first one, and Adam presses his hands back to the space immediately, soothing.

To get his mind off it, Adam speaks. "So, what, you'd do this yourself in Heaven? Or the — I dunno, whatever the metaphysical equivalent of grooming your wings is for angels?"

Michael leans into him, hip pressed to thigh and shoulder against his arm. "Yes. They'd heal more quickly if I was, as you say, able to 'reach' them. But much of my grace is currently constrained within your form. The ways in which I can manifest and manipulate it are comparatively limited."

"But you'd always do that for yourself? Not that a ton of the angels I've met seemed too friendly —" He snorts, thinking of Zachariah. "I wouldn't blame you if you were picky about who you let get that close. But you must have had someone."

For a moment, Michael goes tense against him, and his face clouds. Then it passes, as though it had never been. "No," he says, clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Adam doesn't press the issue. He leans back on his heels, then stands, stretches. "You doing ok? I should do the back." Michael nods up at him, from his place on the floor, and Adam circles behind him. Taps him on the shoulder. "Stop kneeling there and sit down." His voice is light, teasing. "I'm going to need all the height advantage I can get on your ridiculous, massive wings."

It startles a chuckle out of Michael, and Adam grins to himself. Michael settles near his feet, and Adam resumes carding through the wings. He starts at the tips and works inward, down along the leading edge, gradually moving back toward Michael's body.

When he's close enough, Michael relaxes back against his legs. Almost like he doesn't realize he's doing it, Adam thinks. He doesn't mention it, and when he moves away to start on the outer edge of the other wing, the quality of the silence between them is different than before. The pain seems to be fading, and Michael no longer shivers, but some less definite emotion is rooting in its place, something quieter and almost sorrowful.

When Adam kneels behind him to reach the places closest to Michael's body, he can feel the difference. It's in the way the wings press eagerly into his hands, rather than shying away. In the way the angel tilts back into him, posture more relaxed than Adam has seen him — maybe ever.

Adam encourages him, pressing his weight in turn against Michael's back. As levelly and casually as he can, he says, "What about the others? I was under the impression that you guys were, well, close. A family. For whatever that means for you."

"Heaven is not —" Michael tenses, but Adam just leans more firmly against him, fingers moving soothingly over his wings, and after a moment he relents. His words sound fragile, hollow, and his voice is almost too quiet to hear. As though speaking this too loudly would be too much, would mean acknowledging something he was unwilling or unable to acknowledge. "We aren't like humans; we don't interact like you do. We don't — we don't touch each other. Except to fight." He glances furtively across the Cage. In that moment, Adam sees a glimpse of his deeper nature, the weight of an impossible stretch of time on this being as old as the universe. "Once, perhaps. But not for a very long time."

Adam says nothing. Nothing needs to be said.

He sits against the wall of the Cage, spreads his legs out, and tugs at Michael's waist. Michael's wings vanish, and he turns his head to speak, but Adam cuts him off.

"Don't argue with me, ok? Just come over here."

Michael lets himself be pulled along, until he rests between Adam's legs. He leans back against his chest, and fidgets for a few moments. Then Adam curls his arms around his waist, and he settles.

"You deserve to be touched in something other than violence," he murmurs, chin hooked over Michael's shoulder. He runs hands down his arms, until their fingers twine together, pressing close to Michael's body. "Don't give me that 'not like humans' line. Just stay here with me for a few minutes."

He has no power to hold Michael here against his will, he knows. He could vanish, fly off, simply stand up and walk away — he is far stronger than Adam will ever be.

But Adam holds him, the only comfort he has to offer.

And Michael, a silent weight against his chest, doesn't move away.

[blackcherrykiss]

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.6)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] previous chapters

[CH.7] next chapter (unavailable, check back or follow for updates!)

genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller

note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!

*P.S swear words are used (i try not to use them often lol but i feel they added to the emotion in the dialogue) the beginning lowkey not proofread sorry happy readings!

"I sensed you were here." He commented sternly as he stood up from the piano bench.

You stepped back, "Y-you just play really well... Didn't mean to be a creep." You get shy with shivers after realizing he knew you were around. From what you recall, you were absolutely silent.

His wordless response was a cold signal to leave. And so you did. Whipping your head back behind you to see people begin to exit their rehearsal rooms. You left Jay alone as he probably wished, mindlessly waiting for your roommates to storm out. The doors along the hall were now wide open so that you could search the rooms. Like a scavenger hunt, you went in and out of each music room, clueless as to which one you would find your friends in.

"Y/N?" You hear Hyesun before you could even step foot into one of the larger sized rooms along the hall. You slung your head up in surprise to see your roommates chatting with faces you were tired of seeing.

"Long time no see." Heeseung visibly bit down on the tip of his tongue causing your emotions to run wild. You were irked to see Nana, Hyesun and Dahee (in case you forgot these are the names of y/n's dormmates) with Jaeyun, Heeseung and Sunghoon.

"Haha..." You laugh uncomfortably at the overwhelming mixture of people.

"We were just thinking about having a party before the upcoming long weekend," Sunghoon plastered a dark smile that you found strangely annoying. He had some corrupt aura and every bit of your gut felt alarmed by him.

"Jungwon is in the next room over, you should ask him to come here," Dahee said calmly and reassuringly. If anything all of your roommates looked unexpectedly comfortable and relaxed in the presence of some of the school's hottest boys. You imagined your friends to be flustered since they had secretly fangirled to you about them during late-night girl talks. It seemed they had become genuine friends instead of fangirls. It made you question your intuition and trust issues. Maybe it was just you overreacting and these boys were friends, not threats.

Nodding your head, you run off to where Dahee had mentioned Jungwon was. Chasing until you met a closed door with a dim light shining through its' crystallized glass. Listening close you could hear Jungwon sing softly through the door, making your heart rate rise a bit. Like a fool, your heart was going in circles. You focus your eyes through the bits of glass that didn't distort your vision to see Jungwon in pure grace.

"He sings pretty well doesn't he?" You felt a whisper brush the conch of your ear. Not even bothering to see who the whisper belonged to, you agreed.

"Yeah... I've never heard him sing before." You blush at yourself, finally taking a look to see who you were even talking to.

Your gaze met a pair of sharp cut out eyes, "If I heard a person sing like that, I'd be convinced I'm in love with them." Kim Sunoo taunted, trying to make it obvious that your feelings of interest were on full display, even to a stranger. "You might get hurt though, being in love with Jungwon." His voice was a deep frequency that hummed in the bloodstream of your ears.

"Why would it hurt?" Your curiosity getting the best of you.

"He's capable of things you don't want to imagine," Sunoo fakely sighed, his breath hitting the side of your neck. "Jungwon's truly a bad boy. Playing around such a delicate flower." And with that said, Sunoo swung the door right open.

Jungwon abruptly stopped mid sentence, startlement creating a pale cast over his face, "Y/N? What are you doing here?" Jungwon laughed a bit to himself, a little embarrassed after the fact you had probably heard him sing.

"She was standing outside since the beginning of the song." Sunoo smiled smugly before walking out, leaving you in the icy room alone with Jungwon.

"I didn't want to interrupt... That's not even the point... I came to tell you that my dormmates are in the other room talking with the guys."

"The guys?"

"You know... Sunghoon and them... I-I'd really appreciate if you were just there Jungwon." You were sincere because, for some reason, he looked lonely. You would also really feel more at ease with Jungwon around and you hoped your sincerity reached him.

Jungwon had put on a concerned face before dropping it, realizing he was overreacting."Oh. Alright... I'll be there in a few minutes." Jungwon got up, shuffling his sheet music stand into a neat stack that hid in the corner. He had responded in a way that was much calmer than you expected. Perhaps you were expecting him to lash out about being around his friends?

"But Jungwon I want to ask you something..." You hated the secrets between the two of you, it was a mystery game you didn't want to play anymore, "Can you just explain what your relationship with Sunoo... Not even Sunoo, the rest of the guys."

He stopped in his tracks, knowing you were tired of his lies. "We're all orphans from the same orphanage. We just never got adopted." He spoke bluntly in a cold and rushed tone. His answer was enough to have you not ask any more questions about their relationship as it seemed too personal and insensitive of you to keep asking. "Since we were all too old to stay at the orphanage, some social workers came and took us to live in a house together. The house is just on the outskirts of the school but we only go there for long weekends and breaks when there is nobody on campus..." The realization of when Jungwon had said Heeseung was his dormmate came back to you. "They're like my brothers. But, some bad things happened to them in an incident we had a couple of years back at this carnival.. We were never the same after that." Jungwon had gotten somewhat emotional blurting it all out. He had choked up as you heard his words full of frustration built up in his throat. When you looked deeper into him, you found your heartache as his eyes glittered with tears.

"I-I trust you Jungwon. I'm so sorry I must've put you in an uncomfortable situation." You felt like an awful human being hearing his story.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm being too protective with you over those guys. I'm sorry about that. I just see you and get worried. They've become bad people..." He slid his fingertips from his forehead up until they tangled with the roots of his hair, closing his eyes to conceal his emotions.

You could've just hugged him right then seeing him in the midst of crying but your mind was a haze, foggy with not wanting to cross the unspoken boundaries between the two of you. The skinship of hugging was still considered too much for your friendship and you weren't openly ready to have the feelings of endearment that come with carrying out such an intimate gesture. You knew by being in such close distance with him would make you a fool for love.

"I think we should go to the others." You darted with a sudden wall forming between the both of you. You shuddered in pain with your cold remark after Jungwon had just revealed something so deep and vulnerable to you. Even if Jungwon had just told you an intimate part of his identity it was like he became more of a stranger to you. It seemed everything Jungwon was saying was quite true but still Sunoo's words had scarred your subconscious of falling in love with him or even merely liking him. Jungwon had said the boys were bad people but what excluded him from them?

You made your way back, leaving Jungwon to be alone and cool down from whatever you had just made him think of. Every second, regretting you didn't just wrap your arms around him and comfort him. Had it not been for Sunoo, maybe you would've trusted there was nothing more to what Jungwon than what he had just said.

"Did you find Jungwon?" Dahee lifted her eyes off of Sunghoon to yours. You got deja vu when you saw Sunghoon staring at Dahee with the same eyes he used during the commotion at the library.

"Yeah, I think he's just packing up his stuff right now..." You gulp awkwardly as everyone had settled into smaller groups. You think your eyes were deceiving you when you noticed Sunoo now in the room, being quick to withdraw from the conversation he was having with Hyesun and Nana to approach you.

"You don't look well. Something happen between you and Jungwon?" A wicked bubble of laughter rising in his chest.

"Not at all..." It was half true half not. Nothing had really happened mentally or physically but emotionally, there was something.

"Interesting because I was just asking those two girls about you and Jungwon. It seems you two are a lot closer than I anticipated."

"We're just friends, we're just getting closer these days."

"Sweetheart, he's not really trying to be your friend, right? He's just using you like how these boys are doing with your girl friends right now."

"Using us? Using me? Our relationship isn't that shallow. Maybe your dimwit friends would do that but I know Jungwon." You were offended by his assumption, who was Sunoo to claim such an idea?

"What makes you think you know him?" Sunoo laughed gravely at your statement. "I've heard a lot about you from Heeseung and Jaeyun, Y/N." Sunoo used your name. It seemed you both knew each other's names without having to directly say it or formally introduce yourselves.

"I'm flattered I'm that pretty enough to them that they would talk about me, Kim Sunoo." You used his name in the same power he had used yours in a sentence.

"More than just pretty, you should watch yourself. The pretty girls of this school don't last very long in this school."

"And why is that?"

"I think you'll find out soon enough." Sunoo snickered while swaying himself up and away after looking at the doorway.

"It looks like a party in here." Jay had entered with an arm hanging around Jungwon. You hadn't realized how packed the room was until Jay mentioned it.

"Yeah and we're planning one right now." Heeseung spat in a jokingly annoyed tone at Jay.

"A party???" He laughed, "If the school finds girls with us outside school grounds or even near the dorm we'll all be fucking expelled." Jay raised his scratched brow in interest as to Heeseung's response.

"Yeah as if the teachers are even awake super late at night. Literally, no one monitors the halls at night." Heeseung let out an airy scoff from across the room. You and your roommates were all flustered at the plan of a party so late at night. You were embarrassed your mind was even in that direction. "Our place is not far from here Jay, calm the fuck down."

"H-hey I think us girls will head off to eat, we'll settle the plans another time." Nana made eye contact with all the girls as a signal to exit. It seemed the mood took a bitter turn when Jay had entered.

It was an awkward scurry out the door as Nana pulled Hyesun with her. You shortly followed, looking behind you to see Jungwon give a lifeless stare at the ground. Your eyes focusing in on Sunghoon who whispers ever-so closely to Dahee. Whatever he told her, it tinted her face a plush pink.

"Dahee let's go." You glared at Sunghoon before putting on a sweet smile toward Dahee. You couldn't just watch Sunghoon act like such a flirt to Dahee, not when you knew something was also going on between him and Kyungeun.

...

Dahee hums beside you as Nana and Hyesun walk in front. The four of you were quiet, not one of you bringing up the encounter with the boys.

"Do you guys actually want to have a party with them?" You interrupt the silence.

"Y/N they are the hottest guys at our school, do you think we're going to pass on the opportunity?" Hyesun answers.

"Jaeyun told me he and Heeseung could get a couple of drinks from the town over the weekend." Nana added.

"Drinks?! How? Were literally all minors?!" You freaked out like a child.

"Not sure... I do admit though... I'm scared we'll get caught." Nana admitted making you feel reassured knowing she was leaning more toward not having a party.

"What else did you guys already discuss about the party?" You asked, hungry for the details.

"Apparently they've got a place really close by to here. I guess they live together?" The thought of what Jungwon had said to you earlier about the boys all being orphans came back to you.

"Where exactly is there place?"

"Somewhere in the woods of school." _________ author here lol just want to check in and make sure everyone remembers everything from the very first chapter :-) i told you guys that stuff mentioned in early chapters have big significance in the later chapters! Also feel so bad there are so many characters to keep track of LOL I will make a profile of all the characters once everyone is introduced.

Please leave feedback if you have any and thank you for being patient!

[broadstbroskis]

surprises- pt 5 | mat barzal

part 4

There are babies fucking everywhere and your heart cannot take it. There are adorable little faces in huge oversized headphones staring up at you with wide eyes while they sport tiny little Islanders jerseys and logically, you know there’s no reason that any of that should make you cry, but you can’t help the tears that form in your eyes as you bounce Collins Eberle on your hip.

“And you have the cutest little nose!” You bop her nose with your finger; she giggles and you sniffle. 

“Okay.” Lauren says, appearing next to you. “I remember those days. Come with me.”

“Don’t steal your baby back!” You pull Collins closer to you.

She smiles warmly at you. “I won’t. We’re just going to talk about how you’re doing.” Lauren gentles you over to a couple of seats that give you a better view of the ice, and you settle in with Collins in your lap, just in time to watch Mat send a great pass cross-ice for Jordan to tap in for a goal. When you clap, Collins mimics the motions and that’s fucking it. You burst into tears.

Lauren is calm and patient, offering you a sip of her water and gently patting your back, as she uses her other hand to entertain her baby, and fend off tears from a second human. “So how are you doing?”

Well, things have been better, that’s for sure. You don’t think you’ve slept for more than three hours at a time for the last two weeks, which has meant a lot of naps-and thanking god that your boss has been allowing you to be flexible with working from home to do so. Every time Mat walks into the room, you immediately either want to shove him against the wall or run your fingers through his hair, which has led to some significant sexual frustration that you haven’t been able to relieve on your own, no matter how much you try.

“Not well.” You admit, settling for the tamest answer you can with someone who’s only recently become a friend. “I cannot, for the life of me, get comfortable, especially when I sleep. It’s this way, then that way, and the baby’s definitely moving now so sometimes that keeps me up or when the baby’s not moving, sometimes that keeps me up, because should they be? And then I get caught in this spiral of thoughts that just-”

“Is everything healthy?” Lauren interrupts.

“What?” You frown.

“When you went for your last scan, your last appointment?” She asks. “Did your doctor tell you everything looked good, that there was anything to worry about?”

You shake your head. “No, she said everything looked good.” And it had. The last ultrasound you’d had was one of the coolest things you’d ever seen- to see so many different parts of the baby, to know that they were growing okay, the way they were supposed to be. It’d been breathtaking. You still weren’t over it. Mat was actually speechless, for once in his life.

“Then I know this is going to be hard,” Lauren says. “But don’t worry about stuff like that. You’ll only drive yourself crazy, stress yourself out unnecessarily, and we don’t want that. Trust me.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and then reach for the bottle of water again. “They’ll tell you if you need to worry about anything, I promise.”

That’s...a really good point. “Thank you.” You tell her and she grins.

“We’re all here for you.” Lauren’s talking to you, but beaming down at her daughter. “I mean it, not just me and the rest of the new moms, because I know we’ve already talked.” You’d burst into tears when a chat of unknown numbers had started blowing up your phone and as they’d all started giving names that you’d instantly recognized as wives of Mat’s teammates, the purpose of the chat became clear: a place of support for all new moms. “This entire team. Mat’s one of our own and you’re stuck with him now.” 

You actually manage a laugh at that. “I needed that.”

“You’re just not used to it.” She grins, taking back her baby, who’s just starting to fuss at the lack of movement and stops immediately once Lauren begins to bounce her in her lap. “But as long as you remember that we’re all here for you, that it’s not just you and Mat alone in this, you’ll be okay.”

You manage to smile at her, even as tears start pooling in the corner of your eyes. You are 100% confident that you’ve cried more since you became pregnant than in your entire life before that combined. You can’t tell if it’s the tears filling your eyes that make it seem like the room is off its axis or the kindness of Lauren’s words tilting your world around, but baby-free, you reach for the empty water bottle and offer an excuse about getting another one, to leave before you burst into tears, although you’re sure she wouldn’t mind or judge.

And nope, it’s actual spinning, and you feel yourself tilting as you stand before collapsing back down into your chair immediately.

-----

“Really,” You insist, as the Islanders’ team doctor pulls his stethoscope out of his ears and reaches for the blood pressure cuff. “I’m fine.”

“You passed out!” Lauren exclaims.

“Barely!” You tell her. “I came right back to!”

She gives you a look. “Were you or were you not just freaking out about all the possible things that could be wrong with the baby and yourself?”

You hesitate. “Well yeah, but-”

“But nothing.” She tells you. “You’re going to sit and be given an all clear.”

You’re waiting for one more test, watching the start of the postgame show and sipping on a glass of water, when the door opens and Tito stops abruptly, still half dressed for the game. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing.” You hasten to say.

“She passed out.” Lauren tells him.

Tito rounds on you and it’s then you see the blood dripping down his eyebrow. “YN!”

“What happened to you?” You cry at him, attempting to change the subject.

He waves it off. “High stick, stitches are splitting. Don’t worry about it.”

You frown at him.

Tito grins back. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, please.” Lauren agrees. She turns to Tito. “I’ve got to go rescue Grace. Can I trust her with you? You’ll make her stay sitting, make sure she keeps drinking, tells Mat?”

“What!” You protest, but Tito drowns you out, assuring Lauren that he will, of course he will, he’ll take care of everything. 

“Tito-” You start.

“Don’t.” He says, sounding nothing like the bright and fun guy you know and love. “Don’t hide this from him.”

“Okay.” You agree quietly, already thinking about how you’re going to tell Mat.

It turns out you don’t even need to. Mat’s already heard about it through the grapevine; he’s standing as close to the door to the office as he can without physically leaning against it and as soon as you walk out, he pulls you into his arms. “Are you okay?” He demands.

You’re grateful for Tito behind you. “I’m fine.” He jokes, which does little to ease Mat’s concern.

In fact, Mat just glares at him as he tucks you deeper into his side. “I am.” You assure him, and he softens a little as he turns to look at you. “A little dehydrated and a lot tired. Just need to rest.”

“I can do that!” He says determinedly, like he’s going to personally and single-handedly fix your inability to sleep.

You keep your skepticism to yourself, only because he sounds so worried and he’s holding onto you pretty tightly that it doesn’t seem worth it to start a fight. But Tito’s got  the same look on his face, and at least you might get a few laughs out of it.

-----

Laughs was definitely the wrong thing you’re getting out of this night.

Mat drops you off and as you change into a comfy pair of leggings and oversized hoodie to hang out in, it doesn’t even occur to you that he’ll be doing to same thing until he walks back across the hall in sweatpants that hang unfairly low and a worn t-shirt that’s definitely just a little too small for him now. It drifts up showing the smallest hint of abs every time he reaches or twists or moves.

Abs you vividly remember running your fingers over. You have to look away quickly each time for fear you won’t be able to look away at all. 

It doesn’t help that Mat is straight up fussing over you. Are you comfy? Can he get you another glass of water? How about some juice? He was reading such and such last week and it said- “You read?” You blurt out, before you can help yourself.

“Of course I’ve been reading!” Mat says, sounding almost offended by the accusation. “I mean, not as much as you have, but some stuff.” You laugh, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. “Ok, it’s taking me a really long time to do it, but there’s a lot to get through! There’s so many parenting books!”

You can certainly agree with that, as you’ve been trying to make your way through all the recs that people have sent you. “I’m good, Mat.” You tell him, and then, trying to soften the blow you’d just dealt him, you pat the spot next to you. “Just come sit.”

He does, slouching down on the couch as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table and rests his head against you. You tense for a moment, as the familiar scents of both Mat and his shampoo overwhelm your senses, having him that close. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” You lie. “The baby’s just moving a lot right now.”

His eyes light up and then suddenly all you see is Mat’s giant hand covering your bump. “Sorry,” He says, starting to pull it back. “Can I?”

“Sure,” You say helplessly, unable to take your eyes off his fingers, his very capable fingers, as they dance along your belly.

“I can’t feel anything.” He says, disappointed, resting his palm over your belly button.

It’s not quite where the movement is, but he’d passed over where it was and hadn’t felt anything. “It’s early.” You reason, trying to keep your voice even. 

Mat grins up at you and you almost can’t breathe at how excited he looks. “Yeah, we’ll just keep trying!” He curls closer into you. “Maybe after a nap, though.”

“Maybe.” You agree, even though there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep with Mat lying against you like this. Your thoughts are already racing and it’s all you can do to counter every memory of the nights you’ve spent with Mat before with something to calm you down.

Minimally successful. Mat’s lying there, with his beautiful bone structure and his hair keeps brushing against your nose with every breath you take, so you go to shove it away, only to be distracted, by how soft it is. Each gentle brush through the silky locks sends a fresh wave of the scent of his shampoo to your nose. It’s like whiplash, how quickly you’re going from calm to turned on, and back.

“Mmm, that feels good.” You hear suddenly and your hand freezes. “No, why’d you stop?” Mat whines and you’re not about to tell him that the smell of his shampoo makes you want to climb in his lap and do all kinds of things to him, so you pick up with it. “Did you get a nice nap?”

“No.” You grumble, before you can even think about lying to him. 

“What?” He frowns, looking like your lack of nap is the end of the world. “Well, come on, let’s-” He pats his lap as he slides over on the couch, like he’s giving you room to lie down.

But that’s absolutely not going to work. “No!” You cry, jumping up, rant starting without your permission, that definitely wouldn’t have if you weren't so exhausted. “No, nope! I can’t sleep ever, I can’t get comfortable, I can’t stop thinking about your stupid hands and your stupid fingers and your stupid penis so it won’t even matter-” Ok, you are saying a lot of things here. “And now that I have thoroughly embarrassed myself-”

“Do you really think my dick is stupid?” Mat interrupts, looking down for a moment before looking back at you.

“That’s what you took from that?” You cry. You can’t-you can’t deal with this right now. You might not be able to sleep, but you need to go to bed. You’ll toss and turn for hours if it means getting away from this.

You hear Mat stand and start to walk, but don’t realize that it’s to come after you (and not to take your hint to go home) until he grabs your hand. “Uh yeah, that’s what I took from that.” He says, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m not going to kiss you again if you really think my dick is stupid.”

“Truly, you could be the worst guy in bed ever and I don’t think I’d care right now.” You admit to him, as his fingers start to dance up your side. “But I was sleeping with you for three months, and I know you know that’s not true.”

He shrugs, the only move to close the distance between the two of you being his other hand coming to rest on your low back. “I mean, maybe it was just a lack of options. Stuck in quarantine, you know?”

“Mathew.” What you intend to sound like a warning comes out as more of a whine and he grins. 

“Yeah, okay.” He grins and when he does kiss you, it’s like instant tension relief.

It’s the first time you sleep a full night in weeks and you don’t even realize until you wake up the next morning, still naked, wrapped in Mat’s arms. Maybe he can single-handedly fix your inability to sleep.

[vanaera]

Love at First Snow (jhs)

Synopsis | It is during the first snow Hoseok first meets Y/N. It is also during the first snow he prepares to put a ring on her. Little does he know, fate has other plans. (OR: As Hoseok relishes in the spirit of the Holiday season, he cannot help but also reminisce how you two, though entire polar opposites of each other, ended up together. Characters | dance major (and “academically-challenged”)!Hoseok x Genius!female reader (College AU) Prompt | “You know, you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Genre | Fluff, Humor, Angst Wordcount | 16.9k (I’m sorry, this ended up longer than I intended) Warnings | Discussions of verbal abuse from toxic families and mentions of panic attacks A/N | Hi Cristine! It is I, snowflake, your secret santa! This is my gift for @bts-poetry for @bangtanarmynet, and @btsbookclub ‘s Secret Santa 2019 event! I combined this gift with the prompt I claimed in @kwritersworld’s 2019 Christmas Event as my inspirations for both events have merged into one story hehe.

              Everyone has some titles to live by. “Well-versed lawyer,” “patient teacher,” “single mother,” “broke student”—one-liner characteristics and descriptions enough for people to summarize the entirety of one another. From each other’s greatest achievements to their itty bitty mistakes, any of them can be used to replace an identifier. After all, people always see what they want to see. It all depends on what title sticks out the most to the majority around them.  For Jung Hoseok, he lives up to the title of a lovable boyfriend and a rare one, too. As whenever people look at him, the first thing they see is the aberrance of how he ended up….dating Y/N.

              There’s nothing wrong with him, or Y/N for that matter. It’s just…they are the most impossible couple to end up together as they are the most literal polar opposites of each other.

             People remember Jung Hoseok as the golden dance major of the prestigious South Tigers University. He got into the Performing Arts program, Major in Dance by acing the laborious dance audition despite his unimpressive results in the written exam. Hoseok’s colorful background from his long-term dance crew, Hope World, and his countless wins in different hip hop dance competitions were more than enough proof to know he is indeed one of the top dancers of the university. With a body capable of executing each move ever known to humankind with such grace and precision, Jung Hoseok also has a stage presence that warrants everyone’s unbridled attention. Thus, it is without question he is the prided Most Valuable Dancer of his university’s varsity dance crew, Synergy. The long line-up of trophies Synergy has placed in STU’s hall of glory, all thanks to the competitions Hoseok led, are enough to say Hoseok is literally the modern-day Apollo.

             However, it is not just his talent or insanely god-like face and physique that makes Hoseok so “golden.” Because as if Apollo wasn’t enough, Hoseok also impersonated Helios. Jung, Hoseok is warm and kind and funny. He easily makes everyone want to be his bestfriend the moment they met him. Most people often speak of him first thing in the morning with another wonderful feat he pulled off. Hoseok is great in the things he does — playing as the great wingman for people who need the extra push in their romances or becoming the occasional teacher’s pet who goes to the professor and (easily) successfully convinces them to give the class a deadline extension for a requirement. Hoseok turns up every campus party into the happiest event anyone could ever be in and he is such an amazing, sincere friend who remembers everyone’s birthday and gives out the nicest of hugs. Hell, Hoseok even volunteers in long-inactive “dead” college organizations like the Campus Drunk Patrol, Environment Protection Squad, and Animal Welfare Group in his free time. Hoseok is the literal sun and anyone who knows him — which is literally, everyone — will never be unable to deny otherwise.

             So when Hoseok expressed romantic interest in Y/N in sophomore year, everyone around him was beyond bewildered. Most especially, his friends.

             “Y/N?” Jimin sputters, “as in…The Y/N, L/N from our batch?”

             “Well, yeah-”

             “Like the Analytical Physics major Y/N L/N?” Taehyung gapes.

             “Yeah, I mean,” Hoseok sends them a questioning look, “is there any other Y/N L/N?”

             Taehyung scratches his head. “Well, no…I just thought there’s a Y/N in another batch?”

             Hoseok gives him a pointed look, unamused.

             But Taehyung’s true sentiment is voiced out when Jimin half-screams at their table, “Why her?!”

             “Well, why not her?” Hoseok half-smiles, picking on the fries that were dropped scattered onto the table after Jimin unceremoniously pounded his fist on the surface in an act of over-exaggeration.

             Taehyung sends Hoseok a disgusted look but continues his friend’s argument, “Dude, she’s like, the entire opposite of you.”

             “And that is an understatement.” Jimin points a fry toward his direction, glaring at Hoseok.

             Hoseok huffs, “Oh c'mon, you’re all just going overboard. What happened to the golden rule ‘don’t judge a book by its cover?’”

             “First of all, Y/N’s not a book,” Jimin scoffs. “She’s like, the whole fucking library of science textbooks. Last sem, we’re busy doing a group project when Y/N suddenly spewed some SOHCAHTOA shit about the Bermuda Triangle. As if the things she said are already a whole level of weird, she even said them in a manner like Liam Neeson’s ‘I don’t know who you are but I’m going to kill you’ monologue from Taken. And second of all, the golden rule is ‘do not do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you,’ dumbass.”

             “Okay I got the golden rule wrong,” Hoseok groans, “but nevertheless, you’re still violating it by judging Y/N.”

             “In our defense tho,” Taehyung mumbles over the straw of his milkshake, “Y/N judged us first. I was watching Orange one time in the library and she came over and took a seat with me. And then she said some alien gibberish about how Naho Takamiya always fall stupidly on the stairs because she said, by verbatim, ‘according to basic logic and common sense, that’s not how projectiles work,’” Taehyung clicks his tongue and Jimin cringes. Taehyung continues, “Y/N said Naho wouldn’t fly to the hallway when she tripped on the actual steps. She even actually drew a diagram with computations of Naho’s fall and gave it to me before she abruptly got up and go. God, I’ve never felt so stupid and insulted both at the same time.”

             “And,” Jimin adds, “last December, I shared a meme on Facebook about turning on your brain instead of your heart this coming 2017 and guess what she did? She commented below “guess, you’ll just die of heart failure before 2017 even comes.” Jimin rolls his eyes, “She made me feel dumb as if I don’t know how heart failure works. So us judging her back is just fair and square.”

             “But you don’t actually know how heart failure works,” Hoseok retorts. He glares at Taehyung, “And dude, to be honest, Orange is overrated and Naho really flies whenever she trips, or gets tripped, on the stairs.” Hoseok throws up his hands in annoyance. “Seriously, are you two judging her for just…I don’t know, being smart?!”

             Taehyung sighs. “Okay, that’s a bit true, but the thing is, Hobi, our IQ levels are already a bit higher than yours—”

             “What’s that got to do with this?!”

             “—And if Y/N’s already treating us like the biggest idiots of the world,” Jimin continues Taehyung’s words, “then what chance do you have in having a decent conversation with her? Much less a more fruitful one that could end up in a romantic relationship? There’s like a 99.9 percent sure-ness she will make you more of an idiot than us!”

             “Yeah,” Taehyung nods. “Her thoughts are composed of quadratic formulas and science shit like ‘the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.’ While I’m not even sure you know what DNA stands for.”

             Hoseok gawks, “Of course I know what DNA stands for!”

             “Then say it,” Jimin cocks a brow.

             “Dual Nucleus Association—fuck, why am I even doing this—” Hoseok glares at his friends, “What do you take me for? An imbecile?”

             “Well, yeah,” Taehyung says honestly.

             “That’s why right now, we’re telling you to drop anything you’re feeling in that,” Jimin points to Hoseok’s chest, “for Y/N. Hell, how will you even click together? Y/N’s allergic to nonsense and emojis and your daily vocabulary is entirely nonsense and eggplant emojis.”

             Hoseok opens his mouth to argue he also knows about the clown emoji but before he can utter a word, Taehyung beats him to it.

             “Dude, we’re not telling you this to insult you.” Jimin snorts and Taehyung closes his eyes before he looks again at Hoseok’s eyes, “Okay, maybe we’re enjoying teasing you a little too much. But we can say this is just payback for you not letting us go home earlier yesterday because you said we ‘need improvement’ which I damn well think not, bitch.” Hoseok squirms and Taehyung claps his shoulder hard, making him wince. “Anyway, what we’re trying to say, Hoseok, is we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

             “How will I get hurt?! Nothing’s happened yet. I’m just saying I like Y/N—”

             “That’s what we’re worried about, Hoseok,” Jimin cuts him. “Nothing’s happened yet but we know something already did.”

            “Like what?”

            “You like Y/N. That’s the problem,” Jimin deadpans. “Hoseok we know you like to take relationships seriously. We even know that when you set your heart on a girl, your imagination is already two steps ahead, playing your wedding in your head.”

            Hoseok gulps, a guilty sweat forming on his temple.

            “But you see, Y/N belongs to that type of people who have their what-will-you-be-in-10-years solidly planted in their heads. And it’s highly probable a relationship, much less a wedding, is written in those 10-year plans. Much more, art majors like us are stigmatized to bound for failure because society is still close-minded and deems art won’t feed us. And by the meaning of society, it’s the ‘almighty and noble’ science folks Y/N belongs to. For God’s sake, there’s a lot of movies that have already forecasted science and art don’t mix!” 

            “Well, I don’t remember any movies—”

            Taehyung looks at Hoseok, incredulous. “Dude, there’s like The Theory of Everything—”

             “That’s science and faith!”

            “Stephen Hawking’s ex-wife sang in a choir. And she also started writing after their divorce! So that’s still art!”

            Hoseok was about to retaliate when he feels Jimin clasp a firm hand on his shoulder. He looks at him. Jimin sighs, “Hoseok, we just want you to not regret your decisions in the end. Y/N belongs to those snobbish high-hat people who treat everyone below them like dirt. There’s plenty of other girls out there who are much nicer than Y/N. Nice just like you. For one, why don’t you try giving a chance to the girls who’ve been crushing on you since freshman year? I know a few and they’re actually sweet. Just anyone who’s not Y/N. Seriously, just trust us on this, Hobi.”

             Except Hoseok does not. If there is one characteristic to describe Hoseok other than nice and talented, that would be his hard-headedness. He didn’t listen to his parents when they tried to discourage him from taking dance as his major. Hoseok disregarded numerous peers’ suggestions to join a frat so he can “shine more.” He even disregarded the toxic masculinity fraternities promoted by rocking pink overalls with his sparkly ugly sneakers and multicolored acorn pouch (which Jimin told him was the bane of the entire fashion industry) at least once a week. He even changes it up with other colorful ensembles the fashion students make. Hoseok did not even listen to Taehyung when the former told him not to drink before taking their finals in World History because, "no Hoseok, the alcohol does NOT bring back memories.”

             And look where his stubbornness got him. Hoseok became one of the greatest dancers his university has ever handled. His sole talent is enough for him to get invited to teach classes in several prestigious art colleges in the country. Hoseok gained more fulfilling and growth-inspiring friendships than surface-level ones offered by frats. He enjoyed more substantial conversations than booze temptation and toxic, trivial fights over games and girls. Hoseok even accidentally created a modeling career with local brands after his viral modeling of a peach acorn-inspired outfit for the project of his fashion major friends. Although him disregarding Taehyung’s reminders was a big mistake as he totally flunked World History, that night actually made Hoseok learn his lesson not to drink before the finals (and also because he learned the alcohol does not bring back memories he actually needed for the exam. But memories of his most embarrassing moments — like the one where he ended up performing in a children’s party as a fairy godmother—complete with the rainbow gown, fairy wings, plastic crown, and wand—because he mixed up the location of the college’s Halloween party with his friend’s family get-together).

             So, why would Hoseok listen to Jimin and Taehyung when setting his eyes and heart for Y/N feels like the most right decision he has ever made in his life? Especially when Y/N’s nowhere the high-hat snobbiety concept Jimin put her in. Hoseok is sure about this because he started to see and know her more than anyone else could after the fateful night of the Science Majors’ last year’s Christmas party.

             “Is that Y/N?” Hoseok squints his eyes. The person walking towards him is clad in a black coat and indigo satin slip-dress that falls short on her mid-thigh. Her hair is a mess and her small glittery satchel is slipping off her shoulders even if she adjusted it again and again. Not to say she’s also limping on her two-inch silver heels. When the girl raises her head and sees him, her face falls into an annoyed scowl. Hoseok right then confirms it is aberrantly, and shockingly, Y/N. At the sight of recognition in his face, Y/N immediately runs away in the opposite direction. Hoseok finds himself already chasing after her before his mind could acknowledge that he is actually running after the campus’ excruciating goody-two-shoes in the ass'o clock of the night.

             Hoseok easily catches up to Y/N. He blocks her way, causing her to halt. Hoseok hunches as he breathlessly puffs, “Hey Y/N, why you so fast?”

             “No-none of your business Jung Hoseok,” Y/N turns away from him and crosses her arms. Hoseok almost smiles. It is amusing how she effortlessly pulls her usual “intimidator stance” even in such a weird scenario.

             “Well, it is my business if you’re wandering on campus grounds in the night and obviously not sober.”

             Y/N whips her head towards him, “I am sober. What are you even here for?”

             “According to my eyes, you’re clearly drunk. Look,” Hoseok points to her face, “you look red all over and you can’t even look at me straight.” 

            Y/N slaps his hand away. 

            Hoseok puts his hands back in his pockets, “You’re clearly doing some beautiful eyes challenge right now.” 

            Y/N cringes at him but Hoseok continues, “And for your second question, I’m patrolling for the Campus Drunk Patrol.” He smiles and points to the logo on his jacket.

             Y/N leans forward and squints at the logo. Seeing her raised brow, Hoseok explains, “We aim to help drunk students sober up before commuting home. We can also escort them to their dorm facades and notify their RAs to come and get them.”

             Y/N still has her brow raised, skeptical. Hoseok sighs, “Well, it’s a dead org so I understand why you don’t believe me. If I also learn some org that’s been inactive for five years has suddenly gone active, I will be skeptical, too. But trust me on this, okay? I’ll just walk you around until you’re sober enough to know how to go home. I heard you’re dorming here. I can help you get to your dorm if you want.”

             Y/N still looks unconvinced and Hoseok releases a sigh again. He juts his thumb and points to his back, “We have our Patrol Marshal stationed there by the campus gates. He can totes see us here and tell you’re one of the stubborn drunk students who refuse to cooperate with our protocol.” 

            Hoseok smugly puts his weight on his left foot.“You can refuse and go ahead. But because the marshal doesn’t let drunk people he already caught go home, he will notify the head RA and trust me when I tell you I’ve seen a lot of students end up in bigger trouble for not complying with our joint protocol with the RA Council. Or,” Hoseok smiles, “you could just make our lives easier by letting me help you sober up.”

             Y/N looks away, gnawing on her lip. When Hoseok hears a faint “fine” come from her, he has to keep his jaw from hanging open.

             Because, why wouldn’t he be flabbergasted?

             Y/N L/N, the fearsome Analytical Physics major, is not the sweetest star out there. With a resting bitch face, innateness to give cold replies, gift of the perpetual judging stare, and insensitivity to joke cues, Y/N is one of the hardest people to cooperate with. It is not entirely because she does not put in any effort. No one just found it easy, or tolerable even, to interact with her. Sure, Y/N’s smart, a genius in Hoseok’s eyes. However, what stuck to everyone’s memory is how she unconsciously belittles everyone around her. Y/N gives out unnecessary run-throughs of chemistry concepts about any movie or animation brought up in a conversation. She instantly goes grammar-nazzi on anyone who slips on the rules of English grammar, especially when people make errors concerning the Oxford comma in their papers. She even goes out of her way to explain to her fellow students the physics of how and why they drove or parked badly with their bike or scooter.

             But the pinnacle of Y/N’s negative reputation has to be her merciless removal of her senior’s name, Oh Sehun, from the case study required in Communication Media Theories. In her very first year in university, at that. Although her action is justified as Sehun did not contribute anything at all in the group project, this name removal caused outrage among every college student. Sehun, who is actually the college’s renowned quarterback, graduated late and was now behind of his original team who already got into the professionals. All because of Y/N. Hence, the people in the university have started to associate her name with the title “stuck-up-iest bitch to ever walk on Earth.” Some don’t even seem to remember her name. All everyone knew is that Y/N’s one hell of a condescending bitch.

             So having Y/N walk silently by his side, cooperating for the first time without reciting her rights based on the constitution with such accuracy in verbatim while passively and implicitly insulting him, Hoseok cannot help to be so shocked.

             Noticing the complete silence that has surrounded them two, Hoseok breaks from his trance and leads Y/N to the college’s cafe. It’s already closed, given the lateness of the night, but it has their outdoor metal chairs set-up outside. He lets Y/N plop down on one of the metal seats as he produces a coffee-in-can for her.

             “Do you just casually carry around canned coffees with you?”

             “No, just when I am on duty for the patrols. Caffeine is the best way to help people sober up fast.” Hoseok inserts an edible straw for her and she grabs the drink.

             “I don’t think so,” Y/N mutters, “Human body processes consumed alcohol on its own, thus, it’s processing speed is neither affected nor aided by any exterior substances. With this, there’s no such actual thing as 'sobering up fast.’ It just feels like that because caffeine is a stimulant and hence, counters the sedative effect of alcohol, making you feel alert and appear to be sober.” Y/N takes another sip, “Nevertheless, thanks for the free coffee.”

              Hoseok almost gapes. The people were not kidding about how Y/N casually spouts science shit wherever she goes. Although he’s supposed to get tipped off, Hoseok just finds this set-up oddly amusing. He leans forward in his seat and props up his arm on the table to cup his face. “Anyway, why are you out in the late of the night?”

                 Y/N gives him an unamused look, “Because I was obviously partying. Is there any other party in the campus right now than the Science Majors’ Christmas party?”

              “You’re right,” Hoseok chuckles, “but what I mean is, why are you already outside? The party doesn’t end 'til 2 A.M.”

              “I just decided I want to go home.”

              “Why?”

              Y/N drops her drink on the table, “Are you just gonna ask me 'why’ everytime?!”

              Hoseok tilts his head and smiles, “Talking with drunk people is part of our protocol in sobering up. So, yeah, I’m gonna ask why every time until the redness on your nose and cheeks subsides a little.”

              “Fine,” Y/N hisses. She gives Hoseok a steely glare, “This night is the first time I’ve done something so stupid such as going to a party in an attempt to expand my connections. It turns out everyone still irrationally hates me about Oh Sehun’s name removal and they refused to interact with me. They kept sending me glares  while I just pathetically stood in the corner of the room for the duration of the party, dumbly holding a cup of some alcoholic drink I just realized 30 minutes ago was what you call ‘spiked.’ These pretty heels I wore hurt my ankles and toes all for nothing.” Y/N covers her face with her palms, “God, I don’t even know why I’m opening up about these things with you when it’s just the first time I talked with you. Maybe it’s just because I’m just drunk, god, it’s so stupid–”

              “It’s not stupid,” Hoseok interjects and Y/N raises her head from her hands. Hoseok smiles, “When there’s too much alcohol in our system, we get to do stuff we never knew we can. And sometimes, they are things we really desire to do but dare not let out in the open, afraid of what others may think. And it may come off as stupid as you’re letting your heart do the talking instead of your brain. But you know what? You have to be stupid sometimes to acknowledge what your brain may be missing out on. Plus,” Hoseok stretches open his arms wide, “there’s just the two of us here so no one can really judge you because hey, I’m just all ears here. After all, I’m just an officer of the Campus Drunk Patrol helping you sober up.” At the sight of Y/N’s pursed lips and eyes set on the coffee beside her, looking as if she’s convinced (and it looks like it’s not like her to admit it), Hoseok smiles wider and leans forward. “Now, back to your story. Why did you decide to go to a party?”

              “Because,” Y/N sighs, “I don’t know, @keanu_reeves_is_the_real_daddy from Hoboken said in Reddit that going to parties is a great opportunity to make friends.” Y/N looks down at her hands and interlocks them, “I’m just–I’m just desperate to get some friends. I’m already in second year, and still, no one wants to be with me. I often talk about how I don’t care whether people like me or not. Most of the time, I really do not care at all. But sometimes...it also gets lonely when you feel everyone seems to hate you.”

              “Well, I’m not everyone.”

              Y/N looks up at him, frowning, “That’s a great joke, Hoseok. I saw you hanging with Jimin just yesterday and I heard my name as the subject and "stick-in-the-ass bitch” as the predicate in a couple of sentences.“

              "Hate to break it to you, sweetie, but it was just Jimin who talked bad about you. Did you hear me say your name and 'stick-in-the-ass’ in one sentence?”

              Y/N glares at him. She then rips her gaze away from him to set them back on her interlocked fingers. “What are you trying to imply, Hoseok?”

               "I’m trying to imply, if you want to have a friend, I’m willing to be one.”

               "But you already got lots of friends.”

               Hoseok smiles, “That doesn’t mean I have no room left for one more.”

              Y/N gives him that skeptic look again and Hoseok snorts. “Hey, I’m being serious here. I really want to be your friend if you’d like. And no, it’s not because I pity you.” 

              Y/N raises a brow at him in disbelief and Hoseok purses his lips. He raises his hands in surrender, “Ooohkay, maybe like 0.001 percent I do, but 99.999 percent I just don’t like how everyone hates you for something that is not actually your fault. I really want to get to know you if you’d let me.”

                 Y/N just stares at him and Hoseok, for the first time in his life save for the days he’s answering written exams, has literally no idea what to do. Is Y/N angry at him for blurting out those things? Or is she aggravated he seemed plastic? But Hoseok knows he meant every single thing he said because first and foremost, he cannot lie even if he wanted to. He’s a goddamn horrible liar that anyone will know he’s lying before he can even start to lie. Second, he always says the first thing that comes to his mind because, in the majority of his life, he is incapable of thinking first before doing something. And third, Hoseok really meant what he said. He’s always been curious about Y/N. Jimin and Taehyung always talk ill about her and from the numerous negative shits he hears from them, he can’t help but think that maybe, her reputation is just one big hell of a rumor. It’s just impossible that so many rumors and negative comments about someone who he rarely sees outside the university, to be true. 

              Hoseok knows because he also has his fair share of rumors he has struggled to disprove. Like how he “cheated” in dance contests because no one can’t believe someone is just so exceptionally talented that they can win every single competition they join. Or how he “slept around” with almost half of the female population in the university just because he has lots of female friends and he loves to joke around with eggplant and saliva emojis in his texts. It’s hard to be contained in such one definitive title, much more a heavily negative one. Hoseok knew what it felt and it feels it’s just wrong to stay as a standbyer while the entire university jeers on Y/N for such a trivial reason.

              “Do-do you really mean that?”

              Hoseok looks at Y/N and nods. “Yes, I do.”

              Something wet drops on his jacket and Hoseok looks up at the sky. The sky is pitch black, save for the white inklets dotting the atmosphere, lightening up the dark horizon along with the glow of sparkling snowflakes. He turns to Y/N and smiles, “Oh look, it’s the first snow.”

              Y/N returns his smile this time. She tells him she wants to stay for ten more minutes to appreciate the snow before going home. Hoseok grins at her and says he’s got enough time to spare before his duty ends.

              The next day, Y/N’s frowning at Hoseok as the latter awkwardly holds his lunch tray next to her table.

              “Uhhh, aren’t you standing by the wrong table? Your friends sit over there.”

              “No,” Hoseok quips. “Jimin and Taehyung are not seated anywhere here because their lunches are scheduled way later today. And, this, in my opinion,” Hoseok scoots to Y/N’s side and sits down beside her, “is the perfect table.” Hoseok digs in his lunch and grins at her, “You should probably start eating now, too, y'know? Your food’s gonna get cold.”

              “I–” Y/N bites her lip and look away before she refocuses a glare at his face, “Are you really taking seriously your joke last night?”

              “It’s not a joke,” Hoseok retorts, dropping his utensils. “I’m serious about everything I said." 

              "But I didn’t mean mine. I’m drunk, remember?”

              “If you really didn’t mean them,” Hoseok looks at her, “then you can just tell me to leave. I’ll do whatever you say.”

              Y/N stares at him, brows scrunched together as if conflicted. She looks down on her hands on her lap and sighs, “I…don’t really want you to…leave. I’m sorry, I just…thought you’re just playing with me. You know all of this is still new to me. I’m sorry.”

              “Hey, it’s fine,” Hoseok chuckles, “no need to be so serious. We can take things slowly as long as you’d like.” Y/N pulls up a small smile and Hoseok grins. “Let’s finish our lunches and then we can look at memes. Memes are essential building blocks in friendships.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah. Taehyung and I became friends after we accidentally sent each other hilarious anti-government blinking man memes.”

              It is needless to say the entire university goes berserk later when they find Y/N, the campus bitch, and Hoseok, the university’s sunshine boy, guffawing over chemistry memes during lunch. Hoseok does not understand a thing, but he enjoys laughing with Y/N as she passionately explains to him each concept and why they are funny.

              It is true that Y/N wasn’t the dearest person in the world. Hoseok learned this after weeks of dealing with her unintentional snarkiness and unnecessary science lessons that may seem insulting and offensive to others. But through the time he got to befriend her, Hoseok learns Y/N is just too smart for her own good. Y/N always goes around like an encyclopedia because she doesn’t know what else to say when she wants to find common grounds with other people. It is just unfortunate that Y/N cannot speak of anything that does not involve quantum mechanics and chemical structures.  Meanwhile, her unintended snarkiness is always directed to people’s redundancy and anomalies in their speech. Hoseok found out about this as soon as February rolled in, that it has to do with the restrictive childhood Y/N had. This, he discovered when Professor Minyoung Park called for him after his Science 11 GE class.

              “Hoseok, I see you getting close with Y/N, these days.”

              “Yes ma'am,” Hoseok replies. He sits on the chair in front of her desk.

              “Oh, then you must have been familiar with how she can get,” Ms. Park leans forward, “not so…friendly around people. I know she and her mind of hers can be a little too much for others.”

              Hoseok’s forehead furrows. How did Professor Park know? Although Y/N’s bad reputation has easily spread like wildfire among college students, not many professors or any of the university staff have shown any interest in her life other than her impressive academic standing. Hoseok asks, “How did you know, Ms. Park?”

              The 40-year old professor leans back and smiles. “Would you believe I used to tutor Y/N L/N back in middle school?”

              “No way,” Hoseok’s jaw drops open.

              Ms. Park chuckles, “Yes, it’s true. I know, what a coincidence right?  I remember how that pretty girl used to be so insecure about her braces.”

              “Yeah, she must be so…adorable back then,” Hoseok looks away bashful. He’s not used associating Y/N with such adjectives. Saying them aloud feels too weird on his tongue.

              Ms. Park’s voice makes him turn back to her. “Until now she is. It’s just a shame how she did not outgrow her…usual speech style. But in her defense, it’s not entirely her fault.”

              Hoseok’s eyes widen. His curiosity is instantly piqued. “What do you mean, Ms. Park?”

              “Well, Y/N L/N is brought up in a home…quite not friendly for children growing up. The L/Ns is a prestigious family. Not for their wealth, but for their remarkable lineage of geniuses. Y/N’s great grandparents are renowned mathematician whizzes. Her grandparents own Fields medals for their remarkable contributions in mathematics. Moreover, Y/N’s parents are well-respected chemists in almost every pharmaceutical congregation. Even their relatives are families of renowned doctors and engineers. From over ten years of tutoring her, I noticed how expectations pile up upon the short shoulders of young Y/N. Every single school day, Y/N has to attend cram schools and private tutoring after her classes to ensure she stays on top of the overall batch standing. She also has to be exposed to upper-class parties at such a young age which I think does not help anyone at all. Especially a child. All the people ever do there is brag about their achievements, scour for new families to ally with or manipulate, and eye each other’s mistakes so they can prove publicly how better they are than everyone else.” Ms. Park looks at Hoseok in the eyes, “Believe me, I used to dream about attending such parties until I finally learned how they go when I’ve been invited by the L/Ns. And with Y/N being a single child, all eyes were on her. So any room for mistakes is non-existent. Her parents assured her to grow like the perfect daughter they wanted her to be by making sure her movements are always constantly monitored and kept in check. You think Y/N studied here because this is just a prestigious school? No. The L/Ns wanted to send her abroad. To Harvard. Y/N refused and convinced them instead she’ll study here because I work here. And her parents trust me that I can be their eyes to see Y/N’s progress.”

              Hoseok nods but he cannot help but let his mouth hang open at everything he’s discovering right now. No one really knew anything about Y/N. And suddenly out of nowhere, on some random Thursday afternoon, he is introduced into a pandora box of history where everything about her suddenly seems to make sense.

              Ms. Park must have noticed his troubled face so she reaches out and holds Hoseok’s hand. “Hoseok, I’m not telling you these to pressure you. In fact, I am happy Y/N finally found someone who can listen to her and understand her, instead of watching her like a glass-cased perfect doll. I’m just telling you all these not to excuse the mistakes she has done but for you to understand where she’s coming from, especially when interacting with her can be difficult sometimes. So I hope you won’t give up on her, Hoseok. I know you’re a good kid. I just want Y/N to finally enjoy herself like every other college student out there.”

              And Hoseok, with his ever characteristic stubbornness did not give up on you.

“What do you mean I cannot state the faulty quantum mechanics in Antman to Taehyung?!” Y/N scowls at Hoseok, fingers frozen on the book she has mid-taken away from the shelf.

“Because you will break Taehyung’s heart,” Hoseok purses his lips and steps nearer to her, almost cornering her to the back of the bookshelf. “And can you lower your voice? We’re in a library.”

“For the same reason you should also back up a bit as I do not fancy you borderline sexually harrassing me.”

“Sexual harassment?!” Hoseok whisper-yells, “I’m stepping closer to you because I feel the need to whisper louder for you to get my point that you should not explain whatever Antman’s faulty quantum shit to Taehyung because that will make him angry. And sad!”

“Why will he be angry?” Y/N sticks her nose up and crosses her arms. “Shouldn’t he feel grateful I am adding heuristic value to his existing knowledge?”

Hoseok drags a hand down his face, “Well, I didn’t say you cannot explain some facts to Taehyung. I’m just saying you don’t tell him those things in a matter-of-factly way you always do because he’ll think you’re insulting him for watching such movies.”

“How should I say them then?” Y/N quips back.

Y/N learns the answer to her question before she knew she already did it. She realizes it when she gets out of her film class and Hoseok, who has been waiting for her last period to finish, asks her how did it go.

“Well, I told him 'The film Antman is quite weird.’”

“And what did he say?”

“Taehyung grinned at me and high-fived me.”

“Well then, it was successful. Much better than how you initially decided to do it,” Hoseok grins.

“But still…I called Ant Man weird, I’m still perplexed why Taehyung is pleased.”

“Calling something weird is a common expression to us,” Hoseok starts and Y/N tilts her head. Hoseok explains further, “’Weird’ can mean as a good endearing weird or an insulting ‘weird.’ If you added statistics of probability and some laws with calling something ‘weird,’ it will sound like 'Hypothesis one is proven: the movie is confirmed to be bullshit because of unquestionable proof.’ And that will appear insulting because you are not giving room for others’ opinions to be valid. It will make you look you’re belittling them if you said it that way. But today, you did not. See?” Hoseok smiles, “you do not have to state 100 percent what you really meant. Just a bit of truth you find essential for others to know is already enough for a small talk.”

Y/N nods, her lips morphed into an amused “oh.”

Hoseok grins as he puts his hands on his waist, “Trust me on this. I became Mr. Congeniality last year for a reason.”

“What does it have to do with making small talk?”

“It means, I am the expert in making small talk.”

***

“C'mon, Y/N, let’s go to the spring festival. Please, please, please, pleaseeee.”

“No, Hoseok,” Y/N pulls her hand from his grip, “I have to study for our finals.”

“But, Y/N, it’s too early for that. The finals is yet to come 'til next month! Look at me, I do not feel any pressure to study yet.”

“But that’s because you do not have any academic standing to maintain.”

Hoseok’s face falls and Y/N immediately rectifies her mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, Hoseok. Of course, I know you also value your class standing, given your program and all. I’m sorry I’m being insensitive again.”

Hoseok breaks into a laugh. “Oh my god, I’m just fucking around with you! You’re partially right though, I don’t have an academic standing to maintain but a performative one. Although I still have to keep my grades up so I can continue studying here. Anyway,” Hoseok grins at Y/N, offering his hand out, “I only accept apologies in the form of accompanying me to the spring festival.”

“Fine, Hoseok,” Y/N  begrudgingly accepts his hand. But Hoseok cannot miss the small smile forming on her lips.

“Don’t fret tho,” He boops her nose and she cringes at him, “we can  insert some Q&A sessions later so you can do a bit of studying if you’d still like.”

“How will we do that?”

Y/N learns the answer to that when she finds themselves screaming from the opposite ends of the giant boat ride.

“HOSEOK, DAMN YOU!”

The boat tips and her stomach drops but all she can hear is Hoseok screaming.

“WRONG, Y/N. The answer to the drilling ship which can dig 'til the mantle of the earth IS CHIKYU! NOW, off to the next question. What are CYANOBACTERIA?!!!”

              But Hoseok does more than just sticking by Y/N’s side and not giving up on her. He falls in love with her.

              Through the months he has become Y/N’s friend, Hoseok cannot help but be endeared by her. The things about her he never thought will come as close to what he calls cute suddenly grows on him. It grows too much that he lives off every single one of them. Even if it usually ends with him getting roasted. He used to get frustrated by Y/N’s never-ending witty comebacks. Now, his heart started singing during their bicker-banters that Hoseok even started to look forward to their bickering. Y/N’s smile that Hoseok used to think was a standard horror level of creepy is now all he could dream about when he’s asleep, and even when he’s awake. The way Y/N laughs at him, or smiles when she sees him were heart-warming. Until they upped 100 million levels and now they have become cataclysmic for his heart. The way Y/N patiently teaches him his lessons, or how her science-y jokes and memes become funny was something Hoseok used to overlook as trivial. Now, he couldn’t wait for the days he’ll bring his notebooks to the library and stare at Y/N’s face while she teaches him quantum mechanics and chemical structures. 

              Y/N’s small “tokens of appreciation,” as what she called it, like her handmade ‘thank you’ cards she gives Hoseok every month, or her invitations for Hoseok to accompany her to some street event or nearby dance event, or as uneventful as a new food stall that has opened in the university were something Hoseok never put much thought on. Now, they’re Hoseok’s source of both happiness and headaches as they make his heart fly and his brain ache for thinking too much into her actions. The way Y/N looks at him like never someone else has before—so attentive and focused in everything he says as if everything that comes from his mouth has so much worth listening to. Even if it’s a disgusting tale of how he almost shitted his pants before their science exam because he didn’t listen to Jimin when he told him to stop binge-eating spicy wings as a coping mechanism to stress, Y/N listens. This used to be something Hoseok treats as his special privilege as her friend. But now, it has become a national treasure he does not want to share with others. Especially with Namjoon, his roommate, whom Y/N managed to befriend because the former is a Biology major who’s on the same level as Y/N’s intellectual prowess. God, Hoseok cannot even count on his hands the number of times he’s been conflicted if it was jealousy on Namjoon’s effortless way to make Y/N laugh, or petty anger because he cannot even understand their jokes. 

              Hoseok doesn’t know how or why he suddenly felt all of these things for Y/N. It just happened. And so is how he accidentally blurted it out to her during one of their conversations, despite Jimin and Taehyung’s adamant warnings not to ask her out.

              "And whenever I use the microscope in my room, I’m always scared turning the coarse knob so much. It will be horrifying to see the objective lens break the slide and the coverslip.”

              “Y/N, I like you.”

              YN’s jaw goes slack and she stares at him, eyes wide. Hoseok almost feels perspiration dot his entire hairline for what feels like ten whole minutes in purgatory. Will Y/N leave? Will she scream at him, laugh at him even for his audacity? Will she reject him? Of course she will, what is he thinking? Taehyung and Jimin are right. Y/N is smart and he is too dumb for her to even fulfill at least an ounce of her standards. Y/N is respectable and he is a shameless clown–

              “I…am allowing you to be sexually attracted to me, Hoseok.”

              “W-what?”

              “I said,” Y/N looks straight into his eyes, “I am giving you permission to like me, Hoseok.”

              Hoseok balks. “P-permission? W-why do I need permission?”

              “Because, if you’re going to like me, I need you to know I am acknowledging your sexual attraction to me seriously,” Y/N stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of your coat. “It will be a waste if you do not want a long-term commitment. I do not have time to dwell on anything less than that.”

              Lucky for Y/N, so does Hoseok and he wastes no time proving it to her. For the course of six months, Hoseok courts her in the most possible best Hoseok-way. Y/N lived the majority of her life within suffocating walls surrounded by academics, titles, honors, and people waiting for her to fall. Hoseok wanted to take her with him on a break (and a possible future lifestyle) away from them all. So he takes Y/N to carnivals, dance events, and festivals–ranging from streets decorated in cheap glowing lanterns to grander events that have remarkable fireworks displays.

              Hoseok shows Y/N himself at his most vulnerable and strongest. He lets her watch him perform alone in practice rooms as he expresses the things muddled in his head, things he never dares to say to anyone else. Y/N’s been with him when he broke down due to his anxiety concerning his not-so-impressive acads. She was also with him in his embarrassing drunk adventures. Hell, Y/N even participated in his crew’s weird end-of-the-sem party. She let Hoseok dress them two like the two robbers from Home Alone–complete with the rageddy cut gloves and dirty face makeup. But, Y/N has also seen Hoseok’s crew’s successful university tours, the exclusive events he got invited to, and his dance recitals that got many theater and entertainment scouts crowding the room he’s dancing in.

              Hoseok shows all of himself to Y/N. Willingly and so transparently, that in turn, she started to show him her self, too. Y/N let him see her in her utter glory. She let him see her receiving awards from various electronics competitions and exhibitions, her creating the first demo of her portable printer and scanner machine that earned many positive reviews from numerous investors, and her getting featured in not just the university’s newspaper or any other school’s newspapers, but the city’s news for a composting machine she invented. And, Y/N also let Hoseok see her at her worst. She let him see her get told off by one of the people she had unconsciously insulted in the hallways, her failing her Communication GE classes, and her having a panic attack when her parents announced yet again another party of scholars who wish to see what she’s been up to lately.

              These things made Y/N realize Hoseok was serious about her and she, in return, has started to cherish the golden boy who would never leave her alone for the day until she’s crying from sheer laughter and happiness.

              However, it is the small things Hoseok does that really really gets to her.

              Hoseok remembers the small details Y/N slips in during their conversations.

“Hey, you are not supposed to eat that,” a fork clashes with Y/N’s own, preventing her from reaching the delectable dish.

“This pasta?” Y/N looks up at Hoseok.

“It has chopped shrimps. I asked Seokjin about it and he said it has prawns.” Hoseok grabs Y/N’s hand and leads her to the other side of the buffet. There, he gets her pasta with white sauce, this time, garnished in bacon. “Here, eat this, instead. It may not taste like the one with the shrimp but at least you won’t get allergies and you can enjoy the rest of the night instead of chilling out at the hospital watching sad re-runs of The Big Bang Theory.”

***

“Hoseok, you won’t believe how fascinating my yield turned out to be, like–Hoseok, what are you doing?

Hoseok pauses in his fumbling and blinks at Y/N. He looks down back at his bag and sighs. “I was hoping to keep this a surprise but oh well.”

He pulls up something from his bag and Y/N’s left gaping when he hands her a box of baked cookies. He rubs his neck, the tip of his ears reddening under her  gaze. “I remember you telling me it’s been a while since you ate cookies. My mom baked a lot for us so here, have some. I know you’re on some ridiculous diet your parents told you to take. But I hope you could give yourself a cheat day and just eat and enjoy the day. Your parents aren’t here.”

              Hoseok never fails to check up on her.

“Hey, how long have you been hunched over your desk now?” Hoseok’s voice blares from Y/N’s phone’s speakers and she sighs.

“About five hours now, I think?”

“Okay. Why don’t you take a break for ten minutes before going back to the grind? You told me your back is being an ass to you for two weeks now. Give it some rest. Also, drink some water.”

“Okay mom, will do,” Y/N chuckles over the line.

“Okay my daughter,” Hoseok sing-songs and she snorts. “I’ll call later and check up on you. Don’t dare to not take a break. I know where your dorm is and I’ll break into your window if I have to.”

“Okay, okay, will do, my personal health support system.”

“Glad to be of your service, ma'am.”

***

Y/N sighs as she throws her bag onto her bed. Today is a beat day. Mr. David was sour and he poured all his frustration on their class by giving out unnecessary lectures instead of teaching the new lesson. Y/N guesses she’ll have to self-study again for a quiz the prof has irrationally scheduled for tomorrow. And oh, Ms. Peterson also gave out a heavy paper late. It will force Y/N to cram for it in two days as submission date is just the day after tomorrow. Why is every deadline piling up today? It’s not yet even finals week yet!

Y/N plops onto her desk with a heavy sigh. She’ll end up having to do an all-nighter again — wait, what’s that doing there? There’s a pack of sandwiches in a clear food container sitting on top of her desk, beside her notebooks. Y/N doesn’t remember buying one or requesting her rommate, Jae In, to buy her one. Curious, she picked it up and turned it around. That’s when Y/N sees a yellow post-it attached on the plastic container.

“Hey Y/N. I thought of you today and decided to make you a sandwich. This is edible, I assure you. I asked my cooking mama friend Seokjin to come over and help me. Eat this snack before you do your work. I know you always start work right after coming home from your classes. I hope you eat on time and not skip on meals.

With super duper mega love,

Hoseok 😘”

              And Hoseok helps Y/N to the best he can, whenever he can, especially about things she’s passionate about but no one takes time to really understand.

"Hey Y/N,” Hoseok greets as he plops down next to her seat in the library.

“Hoseok?” Y/N glances up at him, eyes wide, “What are you doing here? You told me you have practice today.”

“Eh, the members cancelled on me today.  And also, I’ve missed you, so I figured why not visit you.” Hoseok grins at her and she momentarily forgets how to breathe. Y/N doesn’t know when Hoseok started to have that effect on her, it just happened. And although it is starting to be an inconvenience regarding how she becomes a nervous wreck under his gaze, she weirdly cannot find herself complaining against it. 

Hoseok leans forward, breaking her trance. “Now, what should we study today?”

“Uh-uhm, cellular mechanisms. I wanted to learn more about cancer cells.”

“Cellular mechanisms it is, then. Want me to help you make diagrams?”

Y/N nods and Hoseok grins, “I see the skills of artist Hoseok is not about to die anytime soon, eh?”

***

“How does that work, Y/N?”

“Well, it converts the mechanical energy from every step you take into electrical energy. It’s not yet finished so I’m still figuring out how many more parts I need for this to work. My previous demos have a lot of mistakes.” Right at the same time, a bolt pops off. Y/N runs a hand over her face, “And a lot of malfunctioning parts.”

Hoseok scratches his head. “I don’t know about any energy conversions but I know how to screw well?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A-a statement. I can fix what we have for now while you revise your design. Whaddya think?”

“That sounds good.” Y/N turns around and heads for her blue prints. But before she can pick up her measuring materials, she turns back to Hoseok, meeting his gaze as he’s mid-picking up a screw driver.

“Thank you, Hoseok for assisting me on this. I know it’s just a personal project and I may be taking too much of your time when you should probably be resting at your dorm.”

“Pssh, you’re not taking too much of my time. I am enjoying my time with you. Also, it’s not just a personal project. It is a personal project so of course, it deserves to have gigantic importance to you. And it will turn out great because I know it will. Now go let’s get these revisions done so we can do another test run.”

              Hoseok has been a wonderful friend, an amazing supporter, and a sincere person who never feels ashamed of showing Y/N what he felt. That is all she needed for her not to doubt anymore and accept his confession.

              “Hey, Y/N,” Hoseok huffs, hands tucked deep in his red parka. “Why did you  tell me to meet up in the park? It’s cold out. Can’t it wait 'til tomorrow?”

              “No, it cannot,” Y/N faces the man, brows scrunched, her lips red from the number of times she has bitten it. “Hoseok, there’s something I need to tell you.”

              “W-what is it?”

              “I…am reciprocating yo-your profession of your sexual attraction to me.”

              “What?”

              “I said, I am reciprocating–” Y/N’ bites her lip and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives Hoseok the most focused stare she can ever give. “Hoseok, I am accepting your love confession. I like you, too.”

              Hoseok stares at Y/N, eyes wide, mouth agape. And for too long that Y/N thought the cold must have frozen him all over.

              “Hoseok, why are you staring like that? I am telling you, I like you too–hmppf!”

              Hoseok is kissing her, his lips pressed softly against hers in a gentle peck. Before Y/N could process things in her head about what to do when the boy she likes started kissing her, Hoseok is already coaxing her lips to dance with his. And before long, Y/N is returning him a kiss with the same ardor as his. It’s not like her to suddenly make out with someone so publicly. Hell, it’s not even like her to kiss someone with such passion that the warmth she feels on her chest comes close as to the heat of the sun. But as Y/N stays in Hoseok’s embrace in the middle of the frosted park which contrasts their warm chests, everything just feels so right.

              So right, as if fate just planned this very night for the two of them. Because, as their kiss comes into an end, Y/N and Hoseok both jolt at the drop of wetness that land on their heads. Y/N looks up and sees the familiar soft white snow falling from the dark night sky. The first snow. Right then deja vu sets in of how it was just one year ago she met this giggling boy in front of her at the very same time of the year.

              “I guess the universe wants us to be together, too.” Hoseok smiles.

              Y/N grins at him and sinks deeper into his embrace. “As preposterous that sounds given that the universe is, literally speaking, a no-higher living being, it is more preposterous that I am finding myself agreeing to and blushing because of this.”

              “I can’t understand what you said but I think it means you like it too so I’m deciding this is one of the best blush-worthy moments I ever had,” Hoseok kisses the top of Y/N’s head, “and whatever you say won’t stop me from taking back what I said.” Y/N nuzzles her nose against his chest, smiling at the way she cannot tell her heartbeat apart from his–the beats beneath their chests in sync despite the incongruity in her words.

***

              Loving Hoseok is easy. He is charming, generous, understanding, and everything Y/N ever wanted. Even more, nothing really changed from their friendship, just the addition of cheesy pick-up lines, sweet kisses here and there, hot make-out sessions which more often than not escalate into passionate (and very amazing) love-making. And Y/N loves her relationship with him as well for this. Because even if Hoseok succeeds in making her a soft mush for him, she cannot live her life without having him be the best-est friend she could ever have in her life.

              But from all the things Y/N loves about Hoseok, her most favorite has to be his utter transparency. What she sees in him, is what she gets. Hoseok is unabashed in proclaiming his feelings for her. He does not get embarrassed in showing Y/N his love for her. And, Hoseok does not keep secrets from her. He just willingly tells everything about him to her, no euphemisms, no lies. Y/N guesses this is probably the reason why their fights never last too long. Moreover, this quality of his makes up for Y/N’s inability to effectively express her thoughts and feelings. He taught Y/N pure utter honesty that so many people have stigmatized for naivety, but actually felt so amazing. He also taught Y/N to trust and let down her walls for people so they can be able to love her. Hoseok inspires and motivates Y/N to become a better version of herself, not only for the sake of others, but also for herself, and she cannot be grateful enough for that. 

              Titles didn’t matter with Hoseok, with Y/N, and their relationship. What only matters is their labels for each other–boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers loved and in love. Hoseok does not encrypt his messages in a way that would match Y/N’s mental capacity – He just talks with her like the way he is, nonsense and eggplant emojis and all. Hoseok does not burden Y/N with heavy, unreasonable expectations. He just loves her and lets her be whatever she wants. He just stays by Y/N’s side as she freely learns from and works on her mistakes like every flawed human being. With Hoseok, Y/N knew what she deserves and she started to live her life the way she has always dreamed of–so flawed but so perfectly Y/N L/N who is unafraid of what the future may bring to her.

              However, not everyone cannot fully comprehend Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok. Loving Hoseok may be easy but the environment surrounding their relationship is an entirely opposite scenario. For Hoseok’s and Y/N’s disregard of titles, does not guarantee everyone else around their relationship will do the same.

              Y/N’s relationship with Hoseok spread throughout the campus like a Jeffree Star fight-controversy with another YouTuber in 2x speed. The entire university has gone berserk yet again, unable to fathom how someone who shines so bright like Hoseok can be together with someone like Y/N who dims other’s lights. And for other people, they cannot understand how such a happy-go-lucky academically-challenged student like Hoseok can even amuse such no-shit, genius brain of Y/N.

              Almost everyone has something to say about their relationship. And, most often than not, they are negative. It didn’t help anything in their relationship as Y/N is already insecure as to why Hoseok even chose her when he can have any woman he wished. Y/N knows she’s difficult to be with. She struggles with expressing her feelings and thoughts. She even feels like she’s making things too hard for Hoseok. You see, Y/N’s a safe player. In whatever grounds she’s in — academics, social life, family ties — she  always plays safe. Y/N finds it hard to not be so, especially when all her life, she has been groomed to be a person well-liked by everybody else — a person safe from any negative impression that may tarnish her reputation. So, when things get a little bit too hard with Hoseok, Y/N finds herself automatically heading for the exit.

              Just like in one Wednesday night in August. Y/N had her fair share of fights with Hoseok. From the difficulties that tie with his popularity, her inability to show her feelings to him that sometimes makes him question her love, his procrastination and occasional lack of care for his academics, her nature to obsess over her studies that she tends to forget herself and everyone around her, to his numerous female friends who have the audacity to still flirt with him even if they all know he’s dating her — Y/N and Hoseok have fought about them all within their seven months of dating. And sure, they were already pretty bad fights given that they were immensely serious with Y/N and Hoseok ending up screaming at each other, giving each other cold shoulders, and ignoring each other for at most (usually) five days. But this Wednesday night was not like any of ther previous fights. Because this time, Y/N told Hoseok she wanted to break up with him.

              “Will you stop for a second, Y/N?!”

              Y/N swiftly turns around, tears brimming her swollen red eyes, “What do you want, Hoseok? I already said what I need to say. I am tired of constantly being the bad guy whenever we fight. I am tired of this, of you. I want to break up.”

              “No, you don’t mean that,” Hoseok almost cries. He looks equally devastated as her — swollen eyes, pale face, trembling fingers. “N-no, you don’t mean that,” he repeats, this time, his voice breaking.

              “Of course I mean them, Hoseok,” Y/N spits, “I never say things I do not mean. You know me.”

              “I know you,” Hoseok retorts, “that’s why I am telling you right now you don’t mean telling me you’re tired of our relationship, of me. That you want to b-break up. B-because you’re Y/N,” he breathes out. “You seem cold but you actually care. You do not speak your thoughts or feelings aloud but act on them. Okay, maybe you speak them out, but you say it in a way most people do not understand so that still does not count. But, Y/N,” Hoseok reaches for her hand before she can even think of shaking off his hold, “I know you love me. Deep inside the deepest of your hypothalamus, like you said, I believe you love me. Or else, you wouldn’t stay when I told you to watch me dance alone, frustrated with the world. You wouldn’t put in effort befriending Taehyung and Jimin despite knowing what they all said about you in the past. You wouldn’t have told me you wanted to come with me to my hometown and meet my family for my dad’s birthday. And,” Hoseok looks down at his feet, “you wouldn’t have stayed with me this long knowing how annoying I can be and what everyone else has to say about us. So please, Y/N. Just please…stay. Let’s talk it out together. Don’t just break up with me. Please don’t just l-leave me alone.”

              When Hoseok looks up at Y/N, it is with his brows scrunched together, eyes glazed over, and form almost kneeling in front of her. He holds her hands so tight, but yet so gentle, as if afraid if he clasped her fingers tighter, it will be too suffocating that she’ll slip away from him. He just looks at her and she cannot help but return his gaze. Y/N realizes right then, it may have been a bad decision to do so. For all she could see in his eyes is her reflection. Her and only her. It even seems as if he’s trying to keep the entirety of her as vivid as a memory can be. And maybe it’s because it’s the way he unabashedly tells her everything he loves about her. Or the way he remembers every single detail about her. Or how he knows her so well despite their relationship blooming at such a young age. But, they are all enough for Y/N to hold his hands tighter and let him engulf HER in his arms.

              “H-Hobi–”

              “S-see? You even still call me like that,” Hoseok mutters above her head and Y/N bites her lip as she clutches onto his jacket tighter.

              “Hobi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean them. I’m not tired of you. I’m not tired of u-us. I do not want to break up with you. Not at all. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Y/N lets out a sob and Hoseok hugs her tighter, running a hand over her hair, knowing it calms her down. “It’s just that everything’s been too much lately. The-the way your friends–”

              “What did they do?” Hoseok’s voice deepens close into a low growl. Y/N gulps. “Please tell me, Y/N,” Hoseok says softly as he cups her face in his warm hands. Y/N bites her lip and looks away. She does not want to be that type of girlfriend who instigates a fight between their significant other and their friends. She does not want Hoseok to have a bad blood with people he cares about. But then, Y/N remembers their fight two months ago. That night when she confronted Hoseok about the consecutive late nights he has spent in the practice room, neglecting his studies and even his own health for the past two weeks. The moment Y/N cornered him about it, Hoseok broke down and told her everything — how he lacked the motivation to perform well in his recitals and how his course adviser told him to pull his shit together before he fucks up the nearing international dance competition.

“She told me that I’m dating you right now but why can’t I even pull my shit together like you do. That she doesn’t understand why you’re even dating me when you can date far more competent guys. That sooner or later, you’re going to break up with me. Because,” Hoseok sighs and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his cheeks, a tear slipping down them instead, “look at me. I’m so sloppy. I’m such a loser—”

“No, you’re not!” Y/N interrupts him and Hoseok jolts. “You…you’re not a loser. Sloppy, yes, sometimes,” Hoseok winces and Y/N grabs his arms and pulls him toward her so she can hug him tight. “Hoseok, listen to me. I’m your lover. No one else’s but yours. I love you and I will not leave you. I do not care about other guys, if they are more competent or whatever. After all, competency is just a social construct designed to promote the societal standards that aim for conformity.” Y/N disentangles herself from him to cup his face in her hands. “Hoseok, you are not a loser. And, you’ll never be.  How can you be at least an inch of one? You were the one who led countless competitions which won our university so many awards. Almost ALL the trophies in our campus’ Hall of Honor were all thanks to you. You were the one who helped our fashion design majors  grab an opportunity with various labels after your runway a year ago became viral. You were also the one responsible for resurrecting countless dead orgs with actually good goals. They even received rewards from the local government because of the projects you arranged! You’re not a loser, Hobi. In fact, you are the opposite of loser. It’s just your prof is an ungrateful bitch, demeaning you like that when you’ve brought glory to her name as your program adviser. What a fucking asshole, I could have punched her in the face and—”

Hoseok detaches his lips from hers and smiles. “I can’t believe I’m starting to rub off of you. You just said your first curse word. Two even!”

“Damn you, Hoseok. I’m being serious.”

“And so am I. Thank you for cheering me up, Y/N. This is why I love you so much!”

              Hoseok has always been honest to Y/N and she decides it’s only right for her to do the same.

              Y/N looks up at him. “Nayeon, Sungyoon, and…Sara cornered me yesterday and I thought it will be about what you are recently up to. Why you were absent at yesterday’s practice. It turned out they did this high school toxic open-forum-like session where they told me all my shits and why I shouldn’t hang out you. They said you were no longer the Hoseok you used to be because I kept dragging you down. That I…do not deserve you and you should be with girls like you. And you know what, I thought so, too. Because, you have far better things ahead from you than tying you down here with me.”

              “No one can tell what you deserve or not, Y/N,” Hoseok retorts. “Only you can. And, I know what you are thinking right now maybe the opposite of what you really think about yourself. But if I could help, I think you totally deserve me. Even more than that, honestly. Because, Y/N, you are not tying me down anywhere.  In fact you are tying me up. Not literally but figuratively. Okay” Hoseok closes his eyes, “I know it doesn’t make sense—whatever I say doesn’t make sense on the regular basis, so what’s the difference—but, what I mean to say is, Y/N, you are keeping me afloat. You are keeping my head up from the expectations and shitstorms that is plaguing me. You are helping me stay alive and keep pushing through all the difficulties I face. And for that, I am eternally grateful for you. So,” Hoseok smiles, “do not let anything anyone else says about us get to you. Because, they don’t really know anything about me and they very much don’t know anything about you. They don’t get to judge. Not when they do not know how it feels to have the most amazing angel by your side.”

              Y/N scrunches her face at him but she hugs him tight nevertheless. “Must you always be this cheesy and cringey?”

              “Only for you, baby,” Y/N could feel Hoseok grin from the top of her head. “Also, I’m gonna have a talk with those girls so expect apologies coming your way. And if things go the other way,” Hoseok clicks his tongue, “expect a decrease in my friends.”

              However, everything Hoseok spouted is easier said than done. Because truth be told, Hoseok thinks it is him who actually doesn’t deserve Y/N. She is intelligent but so is she kind. She’s mature and it is usually her who does most of the helping and progressing in their relationship. Most of all, it is more realistic to say, Y/N is the one who has far greater things ahead than him. And it became clearer to him the night she took him with her to her family’s home for one of her parents’ parties.

              Y/N countlessly told Hoseok she didn’t need to attend it. She even highly advised him not to come with her. But Hoseok has forever been stubborn so of course when he told Y/N he wanted to meet her family, he did every bit of convincing that get him to where he is now — shaken and lost in the middle of a fucking science exhibit of a party. The night actually started out well.  He introduced himself to every member of the L/N family, even distant ones who stayed in the farthest, most unnoticeable corners of Y/N’s house. Y/N’s family members welcomed him with smiles and actively talked with him. Her parents even handed him his plate of food themselves and invited him to spend Christmas with them.

              It only started going downhill when it was time for the main event of the party—the what-have-you-been-up-to lately segment or what Y/N would like to call the “let the best bragger win.” Everyone started spewing their achievements for the year in a fashion that challenges the other party to disclose their far greater successes. Which, ultimately, insult the others for their lack of any. The party felt as if it was a battlefield with every member of Y/N’s family pitting their achievements against each other, no matter what context they are in—even if they are not of the same category to even compare. Next thing Hoseok knew, he was being dragged into the center of the conversation, with Y/N’s father asking him to tell his “revolutionary thoughts.”

              Hoseok tried his best. He really did. He had recalled every lesson he learned in his Science-related GEs and even tried to apply them in the academic journals he saw Y/N reading. That’s why he doesn’t understand why every single time he opens his mouth, Y/N’s entire family is laughing at him. Is the Dual Nucleus Association found in fingerprints that funny? Hoseok didn’t take too long to ponder on it, for the next second, a hand is pulling him to the front doors of the L/N house. It takes another second for Hoseok to register Y/N was the one who’s dragging him onto the street in angry stomps.

              “Y/N! Why did we go out?” Hoseok pulls on her arm, “We have to come back! It will be rude to your parents! I don’t want to leave a bad impression y’know–”

              “It doesn’t matter, Hoseok!” Y/N whirls around, distraught, and Hoseok only notices just now her glazed eyes. Y/N chokes out, “Leaving an impression on them doesn’t matter because we have to get out NOW.”

              “What? No, Y/N! That’s not appropriate! I–”

              “Then is it appropriate for my parents and relatives’ to blatantly insult you right in your face?”

                 Hoseok takes a step back, “What? But they were laughing at me there. I guess my jokes are–”

                 “Hoseok, they were mocking you in there. We both hell know the fingerprint DNA trivia you were telling them is not a joke.”

                “But your father said the Dual Nucleus Association I muttered was revolutionary and funny.”

                Y/N closes her eyes as she releases a staggered sigh, “Hoseok, ‘revolutionary’ in my father’s dictionary meant ‘stupid.’” Hoseok scrunches his brows and Y/N breathes out, wishing she could let out as well the aggravation and loathing for her parents she has kept inside for so long. “He was making fun of you, Hobi. DNA does not stand for Dual Nucleus Association. It’s Deoxyribonucleic Acid. My father fucking knew what this means because he took a PhD in Microbiology and he didn’t even have the heart to correct you. He even put you up in front of everybody else and humiliate you without you even noticing it.”

                “W-what?”

                Y/N sighs for the nth time as she reaches for his hands. “Hoseok, I’m sorry I left you alone. This whole time, I didn’t know you were in my father’s care. It’s just that my cousin came to me and asked desperately for help about the verbal abuse he experiences at home. The way he asked for my help, I knew he’s about to-to blow up sooner or later. So I immediately went to his aid. And I guess I got so preoccupied trying to make him calm without triggering his panic attacks that I…did not see where you stayed in the party. Worse, I didn't fucking even know you were with my parents. I know this is not enough of an excuse and I have been a shitty girlfriend tonight. So I’m sorry, Hoseok. I’m deeply so so sorry. And right now, I’m trying to make up for my mistakes by telling you we should leave. Now. I cannot let any of them insult you more,” Y/N’s voice breaks and she raises her hand to wipe a tear that has cascaded down her cheeks, “I cannot, Hoseok, for so help me God, I will march over there and declare I want to denounce myself as a L/N.”

                Hoseok doesn’t reply. He just nods at her and looks down at his feet. Y/N gulps down the anxiety building up in her larynx as she leads the two of them to the car he rented. She opts for the driver’s seat and hits the gas. Within minutes, the two of them are enveloped by the silent nightscape, a stark contrast to the cacophony of pride in her house.

                “Hoseok,” the man turns to the sound of Y/N’s voice. “W-what else did my father say to you?”

                Hoseok starts to fumble with the loose thread of his navy suit jacket. “Do you…really want to hear it?”

                “Is it that bad?”

                “Well, I-your dad questioned my ability to provide for you in the future. Because of my major and aspirations and all.”

                Y/N turns to him, aghast, “What?! Why would he even say that? What, he started to forget women’s abilities to revert back to the traditional patriarchal views?! Fuck him!”

                “I knew you would say that,” Hoseok says, chuckling softly. Y/N faces him again, this time perplexed as to why he is laughing. Hoseok reads her look and he clears his throat.

                “When you told me I was being insulted in the party, I will admit I am offended. But, before that, during an earlier talk with your father, I was not the least bit upset.” Hoseok meets your eyes. “That time, I was scared. Immensely shit-scared.”

                “I should have come to you first, not my cousin–”

                “No, let me finish first.” Hoseok purses his lips. He then looks out of the car window, at the scarce stars on the sky. “I knew we are far apart from each other. It was obvious even before we got together. Hell, I do not even get the memes you send to me when we first started out as friends. Sometimes, I even get insecure that even if you are not really bestfriends with Namjoon, he seems to get everything you tell me you found at the lab. Just by listening to our conversations, he understands them all. So effortlessly at that. I even have to plead him to tutor me and dumb-translate the science-y things you tell me, while I dry my brains out trying to understand them. But when I talked with your father, tonight, how he reiterated your status and skills and their difference from mine…I have never been this scared in my life.   Scared that what he said will come true—that you will realize how someone like me can never truly understand you ‘til the long run. That you will get tired of slowing your pace down for me…That you will eventually find someone more compatible with you–who also has a much more stable future ahead of just an aspiring dancer.” Hoseok turns toY/N and he reaches out for her left hand, her free hand. He clasps them in his hands and looks up at her, “But, I swear Y/N, I promise I will do my best. Your father may not be convinced but I want you to know. That I will do my best for you, Y/N. I will learn more for you. I will understand you more. I will improve my reputation into a much more respectable one. Hell, I can quit dance if I have to.”

              Y/N gives Hoseok a pained look. “No, Hoseok, you will not quit dance. I do not want you to quit dance. It will be too unfair for you and I know you will regret it.”

              Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah…that sounds easier said than done.”

              “You don’t have to do those things for me,” Y/N squeezes his hand, making him look back to her. “I actually enjoy helping you learn. I love that you goof off the way you want because when you do that, I am reminded people like you still exist today — people who are not afraid of being themselves. Because of that, you inspire me to live more. I also love that you put in the time learning the things I’m saying because it means you genuinely are interested about my thoughts and you are not afraid of women being smarter than you — something most guys fail at. But that’s because most of them are misogynistic, prideful men on their high horses. And, I know you’re not like that. Most of all, I love it when you dance. Because through it you freely express every bit of your emotion. Because, you’re transparent, Hoseok. You’re an open book and I like it the best because you don’t leave me hanging, confused, troubled, and worried about what you’re feeling, especially when you know I am already bad at reading emotions. You are my stable ground, Hoseok. You make me feel safe. And despite the bad fights we’ve been through, I know you’re always doing your best. How can we stay this long if not for you being the brighter one between us when it comes to communicating, knowing that splitting because of things that can be solved will only result in one hell of a horrible mistake?” Y/N turns to Hoseok and he looks at her with his mouth agape, eyes blown wide. She smiles at this. “You have to know you’re more than enough, Hoseok. Like you said,” her smile grows wider, “no one can tell us what we deserve or not but ourselves. And with this, I know and feel that I deserve you, Hoseok. And you, me. What do you say?”

              Hoseok’s response to that was not of a verbal one but a physical one—one that involved a feverish kiss on Y/N’s lips, and her jawline that led Y/N to park the car by the empty gasoline station. Feather-light kisses, desperate hands to grab each other as close as they can be to each other, Y/N indulges in Hoseok and him in her in a passionate love that burned so bright it rivals the sun. The only words that transpire during that fateful night was “I love you’s” and for Y/N and Hoseok, they are more than enough of an anchor of him to her and her to him as waves of obstacles come in your way.

              All of these moments with Y/N have accumulated into Hoseok’s most wonderful memories in his life. And he still replays them in his head as another year of being her lover passes. Of course, problems never failed to arise as they manage their relationship. But, the ones caused by the comments of everyone in the university have lessened as Y/N and Hoseok have now graduated. Hoseok has left the university after he graduated, while Y/N stayed in the university as she applied for a Master’s degree in civil engineering. 

             Y/N still lives in her dorm for the convenience of teaching in the campus and studying after work. Meanwhile, Hoseok lived in an apartment in the city, close to the prestigious dance studio he works at. Their schedules are most often than not, amiss, and the distance between them can be sometimes frustrating. However, what remains the biggest obstacle is everyone’s opinions about the two of them. Sure, they were not as restrictive as what the two of them have experienced in the university. But it didn’t mean it hurt less when people say how they never thought someone as fun as Hoseok will choose someone so boring like Y/N, or how Hoseok’s intellect was a down-grader for her respectable reputation, saying she has a tasteless choice in choosing partners. Although these problems may get a little overwhelming, the two of them never let them get in between their relationship. 

              Hence, Y/N and Hoseok are still madly in love like the first year they have started dating. So in love that Hoseok felt it is now the time to propose to Y/N. For anymore day without her officially bounded with him, when you already own every piece of his heart, is something Hoseok cannot take any longer. He wants Y/N to be his partner for the years to come, his significant other for forever, and the only person he wakes up to and sees last in his day and nights for the rest of his entire life. Hoseok knows this and he has never been surer in his life.

              This is the reason why Hoseok is where he is today: clad in an ugly Christmas sweater and mismatched socks, with a troubled look on his face. Hoseok may have only realized he wanted to marry Y/N in late November, but he was able to make an intricate proposal plan to execute before this year can end. Today is Y/N’s free day and he has classes that have ended early. Lucky for him, Jimin is free to take her out for some last-minute gift-shopping in the afternoon so Hoseok can have ample time to decorate Y/N’s dorm with hearts and diagrams of the hypothalamus (because “No, Hoseok, we do not say I love you from the deepest corner of my heart, but from the hypothalamus. We do not feel from the heart. It just pumps us blood”).  Hoseok will have the gifts he bought for Y/N delivered that very same day to complete his decorations (and to also spoil her even more). He will cook Y/N her favorite dishes and make her hot cocoa even though he very much likes eggnog more, just because she likes the sweet chocolate beverage. He even requested his orchestra friends Yoongi, Jinyoung, Seokjin, and Sandeul, to play Jingle Bell Rock (“in cursive”) on the far side of the hallway so when Jimin drops Y/N off, she can have her favorite Christmas song as her background music when she steps inside her room and gets surprised.

              That is why when his heart and hypothalamus decorations actually looked shit, the arrival of the gifts was delayed ‘til tomorrow, and the meals he cooked looked inedible—not to say the hot choco looked like a mess too and totally un-aesthetic—Hoseok finds himself frozen in his place next to Y/N’s Christmas tree, looking as if he was constipated for ten days. Worse, his girlfriend is already standing by her door frame, kicking the door close like it was just any other day. 

              Y/N hangs her coat on the hanger and puts her shopping bags on top of her wide cabinet. She nonchalantly glances at him, “Hoseok, what are you doing there?”

              Hoseok feels sweat run down his face in waterfalls. If Y/N is surprised he was standing stupidly next to her tree, she did not show it. But right now, Hoseok’s concern is her seeing the decorations he made chucked in a large paper bag he hid behind the tree at the last minute. Of course, it is poorly hidden. He plays with the collar of his sweater “I…um, I–”

              “Nevermind. I guess this is one of our spontaneous date nights you ironically always plan. You should inform me next time, you know, so I can prepare for you as well,” Y/N smiles at him. “Come sit with me.” She walks to the sofa by the Christmas tree and pats the seat next to her. Hoseok scrambles to sit beside her and tries not to look like the dumbest fool in the world. Y/N did not get surprised, the orchestra’s music is barely heard inside as the cold wind of early winter overrides it, and he looks totally shit. How can he propose to her now, huh? All of his plans are ruined!

              “Di-did you eat already?” Hoseok asks, hands sweaty on his sweatpants. “I made you your favorite.”

              “Umm…yeah,” Y/N bites her lip, guilty. “I was already hungry before Jimin and I can finish our shopping and I really felt a great need to devour some pizza today.” She reaches for her small satchel and produces a folded paper bag. “I saved some for you. We can eat it later while we watch Netflix.”

              “O-okay,” Hoseok nervously laughs. His eyes land on the pink mug on the dining table. He looks back at Y/N, “D-do you want to drink something? I made you hot cocoa.”

              “Ooh, I’ll drink it later. I just had a sweet choco milkshake before I got here,” Y/N bites her lips again in guilt. “I’m sorry, Hoseok, I didn’t know you prepared these stuff for me. If I had known sooner I would have never even stepped out of my dorm today.”

              “It’s okay,” Hoseok pulls a smile and he tries not to look a tad bit upset about the failure of his plans, because he knows Y/N will immediately recognize that look.

              And, he wasn’t wrong. “Why, Hobi?” Y/N cups his face to make him turn to her, “did I do something wrong?

              “No,” Hoseok looks away. “It’s just, my plans…didn’t work out today.”

              “What plans?”

              Hoseok immediately feels his ass on fire. Did he just almost give himself away? He cannot just blurt out he wants to marry her! He wanted it to be special and he cannot have that happen in just her dorm with his shitty-looking outfit and almost-burned food. He wants Y/N to remember this day and he ain’t taking the risk of letting any bad memories mess up his proposal. And so, Hoseok sighs and decides he has to abort the plan and schedule it some other day. He’s just gonna make an excuse for now. “Well, I just thought we can make this random Thursday special y’know? Keep up with the aim of my spontaneous dates–good surprises making life much better without needing a reason to be. So I just made some food and stuff for the fun of it. It’s just a normal day surprise.”

              “Oh, then I’m glad today is really spontaneous dates today. I may have…foiled your plans, but look, I happened to have a surprise for you!”

              Hoseok tilts his head, “What is it?”

              Y/N grins at him before turning around and fumbles for something in her bag. Then the next second, Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe is suddenly blaring loud from her phone.

              “Y/N, did you seriously just play Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe in speaker mode?”

              “Oh, don’t be an in-denial bitch. I know this is your favorite Christmas song. A good song has to create the aesthetic and mood for tonight,” Y/N chuckles, “Here, Hoseok, my present for you.” She hands him a box wrapped in a fancy green sparkling wrapper with a red bow tied around it. It was medium-sized, enough for one of his favorite KAWS models to fit inside.

              “Present?” Hoseok asks, feeling both joy and guilt respectively swell in his heart and pit in his stomach. Joy, because Y/N is to add another model to his growing collection. And guilt, because he didn’t bring her anything worth the same as her gift. But as he tears open the box, another fancy green box just stares back at him. He looks up at Y/N with squinted eyes. “I see what you did there, sneaky missy.”  She just chuckles at him and Hoseok continues to unbox her gift, only to have another box inside. Hoseok wonders what made Y/N think of doing this infamous wrapping technique for her gift when she wasn’t even that much into wrapping gifts. She always just give him gifts in standard wrapping paper, messily taped all over around. Moreover, what even is her gift and how small does it have to be? Because now, Hoseok’s hands are getting tired of unboxing box after box and the gift is now currently the size of a stress ball!

              “Y/N, can you just tell me your gift? I’m getting tired. I can open it tomorrow instead and we can just get straight to Netflix tonight.”

              “No, Hoseok,” Y/N laughs, patting his shoulders. “Keep unboxing.”

              Hoseok continues forth with the unboxing and his heart starts to sink to his stomach as the box got smaller and smaller. This is probably a prank. One to get back at him for telling Y/N last year he bought her her favorite gift for their monito event with Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon. Only for him to arrive with nothing but a bow on his head and shamelessly declare to everyone that he is her gift. Nothing must be inside this box to contain a gift so small. The box in his hand is now just the size of a small toy car!

              Hoseok sighs as he opens the box. Another green box will appear and then he’ll see the paper saying “Pranked you, Hobi!”

              But it does not.

              For the box on Hoseok’s hand right now, is gaping open to him right now. And all he sees is a sparkling, silver ring embellished with emeralds that seem to form waves around the base of the band. A fucking ring is sitting right on top of his hand.

              Hoseok gapes and just stares. Far too long that Y/N decides to break the silence. “Surprise! I bought you an engagement ring! With green emeralds just like your favorite color.” She grins at him as she holds Hoseok’s hands in hers, making him turn to her while he stays jaw ajar. 

              Y/N suddenly feels self-conscious and unconfident. This is not the reaction she is expecting. She starts to fear if she’ll spend the coming Holidays boyfriend-less. Just by looking at Hoseok’s stupified face, it looks everything is happening too fast and too sudden tonight for her boyfriend. Nevertheless, she says, “I-I know this may come off as a really big of a surprise. After all, this is an engagement ring and right now I am trying to propose to you. Barely, even. So, of course, this is definitely a shocker. Especially when we only just spent two years dating. Still too early for a proposal to come, as what others will usually expect,” Y/N’s voice breaks. 

              She wrings her hands together, her feet trembling beneath her, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. “But, Hoseok, in these two years I have spent with you…I learned what it felt like to be loved and be in love with you. We fight, yes. Healthily usual even. But, at the end of the day, everything still feels worth it. And I guess,” Y/N  smiles, “I cannot get enough of it. I cannot get enough of you. Being your girlfriend no longer satisfied me. I now want to be your wife. I want to be the only person you’ll stress over science just to impress. I want to be the person who’ll be your home. The one you will come home to, wake up to, and sleep next to every night, every single day. I want to be your partner-in-crime, especially when we have kids and we’ll play some game I never heard of but will still enjoy in the end just because you like it. But only if you want kids, hehe.” Y/N laughs awkwardly and scratches her nape. “Hoseok, I know I am clumsy in saying my feelings for you. Today is my first time saying everything so honest and raw like this so I know this may shock you. God, you don’t know how many times I practiced this speech in my office. Other professors must already be thinking I’m going crazy—anyway, what I only want to say is,” Y/N reaches for Hoseok’s hand and kisses it. “Hoseok, I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life.” When she looks up at him, she says, “And it will only happen if you’d also love to be by my side forever as well. So what do you say?”

              “W-what, I will say?” Hoseok repeats, still shaken. However, he’s so happy he cannot help the wide grin splitting on his face. “Yes, Y/N, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever and ever and ever and ever.”

              “R-really?” Y/N’s releases a relieved sigh, fingers wiping the tears that have formed on her eyes. “T-Then, why did you look like as if you’re about to walk out on me when you opened the box?”

              Hoseok cups her face in his hands, wiping away the tears. “Because you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Y/N scowls at this and hits his chest, hard. Hoseok coos at her as he hugs her tight and chuckles, “You’re an asshole because you headed out straight for my heart—hook, line, and sinker — and now I am completely blown away when I was supposed to be the first one to do so. Seriously, Y/N, I did not expect this to happen this way. Not when I also prepared a surprise for you tonight.” 

              Y/N’s brows raise in curiosity. Hoseok unzips his gym bag on the sofa and turns back to her, now with a red velvet box on his hands. 

              Hoseok pops open the box, a ring of the same design as the one she bought him stares back at her. But this one, instead of green emeralds, is embellished with blue emeralds, her favorite color.  Right then and there, Y/N wanted to cry.

              Hoseok rubs his nape. “I’m supposed to propose to you tonight as well. But you beat me right to it and now I forgot my speech.”

              Y/N chuckles at that as she wipes away the tears that have formed yet again on her eyes. Hoseok smiles as he squeezes her hand. “But, that doesn’t mean I’ll skip on this once-in-a-lifetime’s opportunity to propose to you,” Hoseok looks at her, “Y/N, I love you. And I know forever can be a heavy word and sometimes love cannot solve every problem that may come our way. But Y/N, what I said two years ago hasn’t changed. I will try my best. For you, I will. And we may be young but I know you and I are capable to make us work for as long as time can let us. Because you are Y/N, and I’m Hoseok. People may be against us but we know with each other, we are the best we can ever be. We deserve each other. We need each other. But most of all, we love each other. That’s all we need. Me and you. You and me.” After he breathes out, Hoseok cups Y/N’s cheeks and she leans forward and interlocks their lips in a soft kiss. 

              Y/N grabs onto Hoseok’s ugly green sweater and deepens the kiss, letting her mouth do the talking for her and him. For no words can be enough to express everything that is settling in their hearts tonight — euphoric bliss, the sweet feeling of triumph. Although Y/N can feel a tinge of the uncertainty of what may come to the two of them in the future grappling on her nerves, there resides in her heart the greater courage that despite the unpredictability of life, Y/N knows she can manage it with the constant she now has by her side — Hoseok. And for him, her. Because, Y/N is certain this is the most right decision she has ever made in her life: loving him. And, Hoseok proves it is the same for him as when the kiss comes into a close, he whispers on her lips, “Guess the déjà vu tonight is really working at its best. Fate really wanted us to be together.”

              Y/N grins at him, her forehead bumping into his, “And where’s your proof, future Mr. Y/N L/N?”

              Hoseok presses a kiss on Y/N’s forehead, on her cheeks, on her nose, then at the corner of her ear. He whispers, “Look outside.”

              And there outside, white droplets fall from the sky, lighting up the near-black horizon while frosting up the window panes. It is the first snow. Y/N smiles. What Hoseok said to her when she reciprocated his love confession doesn’t seem so preposterous now. It seems like fate really tied the two of them up together as she first met and started dating Hoseok when the first snow fell. There’s a saying that whoever you’re with during the first snow, you will be with that person for a long time. Y/N and Hoseok have already been living proof of that for being together in three years—friendship plus dating days combined — amidst whatever people say against them two. 

              And Y/N hopes, that as she and Hoseok promise forever to each other tonight, the saying will come true. Because she wants the two of them to be together for a very, very, very long time.  After all, Hoseok is right. She is  Y/N and he is Hoseok and together, they are the best they can ever be, titles and achievements be damned. The weather may be cold during these pinnacle moments of her and his relationship but their hearts are warm and cozy, and there is nothing more Y/N could ask for.

Epilogue:

“You know, Y/N, my original proposal was beautiful, I’m sure I’ll have you bawling tonight.”

Y/N gives him a look and Hoseok laughs, “Good thing they’re gone now. D’you know I actually wrote my entire proposal in my hands? They just got erased because my hands have become so sweaty when I chucked away the decorations I made for you.”

“What decorations?”

Hoseok pulls on the collar of his sweater, “Cut-outs of hearts and hypothalamus?”

“R-really? You remembered what I said to you three years ago?”

“Of course, babe,”Hoseok smiles, “It’s you. How can I forget that? But they’re not available anymore as I already threw them away. They looked like shit.”

“Where did you throw them?”

“In a paper bag….by your Christmas tree–hey, why are you picking it up?”

Y/N turns towards him, smiling, her hands gently holding the crushed hearts and hypothalamus cut-outs. “Because you made it for me, Hoseok. Of course they hold value to me. It’s you.”

“You’re really a Grinch, you know? You’re making me cry with your sweetness and beauty when I should be jumping up and down with joy right now.”

“….Do you always have to be cheesy like this?”

“Only for you, babe. And get used to it. You have a forever to experience this one-in-a-million love from the one and only Jung Hoseok.”

A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Sorry my Christmas gift for you all was late! My requirement deadlines in uni ended up until Dec. 16 and so for the majority of December, I was solely focused on uni stuff. I tried limiting myself from using page breakers in this fic, a challenge I put on myself to train my skills again in doing transitions in my writing. This story is inspired by the rivalry of science and art majors in our uni in my first year! Also! I hoped you guys appreciate my take on @kwritersworld’s prompt. I want to incorporate it in a very unexpected way, while at the same time, reflects my character in a way I‘ve never done before. OC here is a bit grumpy and lacks social skills to be friendly so I interpreted her as an everyday-Grinch hehe). Lastly, @bts-poetry, I really enjoyed doing mini Q&As with you! I hope you like this gift and I also hope we can talk more in the future!

All Rights Reserved 2019 © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable- Ch 2: The Offer

Summary: A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: swearing, discussion about death and illegal activity (but like, at half the normal Criminal Minds level)

Ch 1 | Ch 3 | About Lydia

~ ~ ~

“You got it all sorted out?” Gideon asked Hotch as he walked into his office. It had been a month since their case in Santa Cruz and Gideon had been on Hotch’s ass about this since they got back.

“It’s… not a job…” Hotch started. “I talked to Strauss and she said that there was no proof that a forensic scientist would be of any benefit to the team. Police departments provide them and local forensic scientists have access to scenes sooner.”

“Police departments can also have media liaisons and tech analysts, but we bring in our own,” he argued. “I spoke to some of Lydia’s old professors and they said that she’s not only a good crime scene investigator, but her major was chemistry and she’s fit to get a job in DNA analysis or toxicology.”

“Gideon, what did I say about not getting involved? Strauss needs proof that she is an asset to the team before paying her a salary. So, I got her to agree to let Lydia work here as an intern under your supervision.”

“Done,” Gideon said. “By the end of the month, she’ll have proven worthy of a spot on this team.”

“No, there’s more,” Hotch told him, frustrated. “She only gets to work jobs that we clearly need her on and she gets no more than two cases every 50 days.”

“Fine, fine,” Gideon replied, which did nothing to ease Hotch’s worry. He, too, had been impressed by Lydia during the Jonathan Carrey case, but there were parameters on hiring people into the FBI and Gideon acted like those meant nothing.

He’d been the same way about Reid after he first spoke to him, but Reid was cut out to be a profiler from day one and they had an opening for him. Gideon wanted Hotch to simply create a brand new job title and salary for Lydia and he couldn’t do that.

“Should I call her and tell her to pack up her things and move to DC?”

Hotch blinked. “You haven’t already told her about the possibility of a job, have you?”

“No,” Gideon laughed. “I can’t promise her a job when I don't have the jurisdiction to hire anybody.”

That was a relief, but Hotch was still afraid Gideon had let on too much. He had just admitted to calling her professors to learn more about her abilities. So, he replied, “You can tell her that we have an internship position that she might be interested in and ask her about her ability to leave California. That is all.”

~ ~ ~

“Agent Hotchner. Agent Gideon,” Lydia greeted as she entered the BAU. It was crazy enough to be in Virginia, seeing as she’d never left California, but FBI headquarters?

She shuffled around nervously and adjusted her glasses numerous times despite the fact they were already as far up her nose as they could go.

“Lydia,” Gideon greeted, warmly. “How was your flight?”

“It was alright. Exciting. I’ve never been on an airplane before.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. No one should have to go through airport security for their first time alone,” Hotch said. “Why don’t we step into my office?”

He and Gideon led the way into the bullpen and around to his office. Lydia’s eyes darted around, seeing Morgan, Elle, and Reid at their desks, engrossed in their work. She wondered if any of them would even recognize her if she caught their eye. She was surprised enough when Gideon called.

“I assume you’ve been considering my offer?” Gideon asked, closing the door behind her.

“Considering, yes. But it would be… difficult, to say the least. I’d love to hear it from your mouths… the offer, that is.”

Hotch sat down at his desk and gestured for her to do the same.

“Agent Gideon and I would like to offer you an internship here at the BAU as a forensic science technician. When we took you on as a consultant in Santa Cruz, you proved to have inspiring potential. You would only be called out for occasional cases, once every month or so. Agent Gideon would be your supervisor.”

“And this would mean moving to DC?”

“Eventually, yes. We can’t exactly fly you out to every new scene from California. It would be easier to have you here, getting briefed with us, taking the jet, etcetera. You’ll also need to go through a training period here and likely will be asked to work in the office, even when you aren’t on a case. How big of a problem would that be? Do you have a lot of family there?”

“No, not family. I mean, it’s just me and my sister and she’s been doing just fine on her own while I’ve been at college, so we’ll manage the distance. The issue is I’m set to start a masters program next semester. I’m just… unsure how I feel about dropping out of school. I know this is a crazy opportunity, but it’s not a full-time job. And if I don’t do well and you guys decide not to keep me, I’m poor and stuck in DC.”

Gideon, who’d been hovering in the back of the room stepped forward. “If we fire you for some reason, I promise to personally pay for your flight back to California.” It was a joke, but in all seriousness, a flight wasn’t even half of it.

“You wouldn’t have to drop out,” Hotch added. “Many schools nearby would be happy to have you and the Bureau rarely has problems with schools refusing to work around our interns schedules. And even if that’s too difficult, this experience will likely open up many opportunities in the future. I’d be happy to write you a million letters of recommendation should you decide to find work elsewhere.”

“I, uh-”

“Hey Hotch?” A familiar voice called, knocking on the door.

He apologized to her momentarily, before saying, “Come in, Reid.”

The door swung open and the boy looked right over Lydia’s head to his boss. “JJ wanted me to tell you that she…”

He trailed off as he felt more pairs of eyes on him. He glanced at Gideon before finally landing on Lydia.

She decided to make the first move, seeing as he was stunned into silence. “Dr. Reid, how nice to see you again.” She stood up to greet him, a smile gracing her features.

“Lydia, I uh… Sorry, to interrupt I really had no- Oh! And it’s nice to see you, too,” he fumbled. “I’ll… I can talk to Hotch later. Sorry, again for interrupting.” And with that he shut the door and was gone.

“Sorry about that. I figured it might have been important, that’s why I invited him in. What were you going to say?”

Lydia froze, her mind drifting elsewhere. “Does the team know? That you are offering an internship into the team?”

Hotch shook his head. “We aren’t offering an internship into the team. We’re offering you an internship into the team. We were waiting to see if you agreed to it.”

“Well, I don’t want to force them to work with someone super under experienced. They aren’t paid to be teachers.”

“The only one who’s going to be teaching you anything is me,” Gideon reassured her. “You are more than capable of holding your own with them. I trust you.”

Lydia felt her throat close up. It was all set up. A job she couldn’t even dream of and here they were, offering it up on a silver platter. “So, this is all… serious. I move to DC and just… work for the FBI all of a sudden?”

“If that’s what you want, then yes. That’s our offer.”

Lydia looked Hotch over, as if trying to profile whether or not he was lying. And finally, she said, “I would like that. Thank you.”

~ ~ ~

“You’ll need to fill out some legal release forms, medical history forms, and I’ll get to work on setting you up for your training period and psychological assessment,” a charming girl named Penelope Garcia explained. Gideon had introduced her as the BAU’s technical analyst.

Her office was brightly decorated and she handed Lydia all the information she needed with a huge smile.

“I’m going to be asked to do a thorough background check on you, as well. But that information goes straight to Hotch and Gideon, no one else.”

Lydia chuckled slightly. “I don’t think I have any secrets, but thanks for the warning.”

“Of course!” she replied.

“No secrets?” Gideon asked. “If I remember correctly, you refused to explain anything about yourself that didn’t pertain to the case when I first met you.”

Lydia hesitated slightly. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“What were you trying to hide?” he countered. “If you’re such an open book, you can tell me.”

“I was just angry!” she argued. “It isn’t about hiding, it’s just that after my mom died, I really believed that I was explosive and so I avoid any topics that bring out my stronger emotions. And you were trying to push all my buttons. I was stressed!”

She wasn't sure if Gideon was just an attentive listener or if he was simply interested in her background, but his eyes longed for her to go on. “Explosive?”

“That’s how I got this limp.”

Normally, nothing anyone could say would prompt her to give away more information than necessary. She always tried to excuse it as ‘no one asked’ rather than blatantly avoiding certain topics, but it was pretty obvious to just about anyone she’d met that Lydia was not proud of her past. So whatever it was about Gideon that convinced her to add that comment was something pretty special.

“How?” It was Garcia this time.

The young girl laughed. “When I was 16, I was having some issues and one day I was trying to calm myself down… I often did this by physically getting my energy out so I was punching pillows and throwing things and I kicked something that was heavier than I expected and broke my foot.” She nodded, like she was remembering it fondly, but the other two could tell that it was a cover for her uncomfort. “And then, I was mad because I hadn’t solved my problem and I’d rendered myself useless, so I started walking on it before it was healed. I did dumb shit. I felt like I deserved the pain for being so uncontained and brash. And then the arch of my foot healed wrong and I had to live with a more… permanent reminder of my attitude.”

“Sixteen,” Gideon mumbled. “Is that when your father died?”

Garcia looked shocked that her superior would even say such a thing but Lydia was just intrigued, “What makes you say that?”

He shrugged. “You said that your only family is your sister. So, I figure both your parents are far out of the picture. You said your mom died when you were little, which triggered your outbursts. So, I figured that perhaps you lost your dad as well and if you were having major anger issues at 16, could be due to the loss of your second parent. Brings up old scars.”

She paused, a somewhat sad smirk gracing her face. “My dad’s not dead, but you’re pretty close. When I was 16, my father was sent to prison.”

Garcia and Gideon’s faces read with immediate regret. So, Lydia played it off quickly.

“Don’t stress about it. He’s not a murderer or anything and it’s not… important.”

She hesitated to explain what he did. She figured they were bound to find out soon enough and she really would rather not say it outloud, so she changed the subject.

“Hey Garcia? Do you think you could help me work on transferring schools? Agent Gideon suggested that I apply for online courses rather than continuing to learn on campus and I’m still not sure if I can reapply for everything so late. And I know your job isn’t navigating college websites or anything, but you are good at tech and I’d love some help.”

She brightened almost immediately. “Sure, sweetheart!”

[lawrenceop]

HOMILY for The Baptism of the Lord (B)

Isa 55:1-11; Isa 12:2-6; 1 Jn 5:1-9; Mark 1:7-11

Many things have been missing since the pandemic began. Right now, for example, because our community is in self-isolation due to sickness, I am, once again, missing having people here in church worshipping God alongside us Dominicans. But I hope that at least some of those who are missing can be helped in however small a way by this livestream. But like so many other new measures being undertaken at this time, it’s all too virtual, too distant, and ultimately too inhuman and sometimes, even inhumane. 

For we are bodily, relational, physical persons, which is why we long to touch, taste, smell, feel, and hear. Sight and mental ideas, though important, we realise are just not enough, which is why a live-streamed Mass or Zooming in to ‘visit’ our grandparents is never sufficient but all too limited and limiting. If there’s anything we can realise more deeply in the midst of this pandemic, it’s that we are human beings, a unique combination of the bodily-physical and the spiritual-psychological, and so we need to be sustained, and nourished, and kept healthy in both body and soul altogether. Many of the debates and disagreements we’ve had at this time as Catholics have revolved around the unique difficulties of being human and staying humane, of serving both body and soul, of having a care for the whole human person. 

It seems to me that, although we can be grateful for the applications that our modern technology enables, nevertheless all our solutions, being solutions devised by other frail human beings and being dependent on soulless machines, are fatally limited. 

The reason we celebrate Christmas, and the focus of this Christmastide season which ends today with this Feast of the Lord’s Baptism, is all about God’s solution for humanity’s fundamental sickness, a pandemic that has plagued us since Adam and Eve sinned against the wisdom and goodness of God, choosing, somewhat irrationally, to follow their own limited knowhow to find happiness over and above God’s way, which is the way of self-giving love. God’s solution for the sickness of sin, therefore, takes into account our human condition, our human nature, which is a rational, intelligent, thinking nature, capable of knowing truth and of choosing to do good. God’s solution for the plight of humanity, therefore, is altogether perfectly humane and is perfectly suited to our being human. For our sakes, God became Man, and Christ, by his teaching and his actions, becomes God’s way to be human, teaching us how to be more genuinely human, more humane, if you will. Thus St Thomas Aquinas says: “to open the way to God for everyone, God willed to become man, so that even children could know and love God as someone like themselves; and so by what they can grasp they can progress little by little to perfection.”

So, God became Man in order to remove our sins, indeed, more than that, he comes to enlighten our minds with truth and to rectify our wills; to reform and remake us from within so that we are motivated not by our sinful desires, but by loving what God loves, and doing as Christ does. In other words, in the person of Jesus Christ, God comes to befriend you and me so as to make us friends of God. As St Thomas says: Man’s sickness consisted in falling into wanting and doing the wrong things, so “righteousness of the human will consists in the proper ordering of love, [and] rightly ordered love is to love God above all things as our supreme good”. So, “to excite our love towards God, there was no more powerful way than that the Word of God, through whom all things were made, should assume our human nature in order to restore it… because the strongest way God could show how much he loves man was his willing to become man for his salvation; and nothing can provoke love more than to know that one is loved.”

In fact, today’s Gospel makes it even more amazing. For God loves us so much that he’s not content to just become Man and so become the cure for our sins. More than this, God wants to become the cure for the natural end of our human condition, namely, God wants to save us from eternal death. And so we’re made, by Christ and through Christ and in Christ, into beloved sons and daughters of God! This is the beauty of the Incarnation, of the Christmas mystery that we have been celebrating, and it is at the heart of the Christian Gospel: that we should become sharers in the divine nature of God’s own immortal Son. 

And the way that God communicates this grace, this spiritual transformation, this renewal of mind and heart that elevates our human nature, is in a bodily, physical way because that is how human beings relate to things and with one another. So, through the Sacraments, beginning with Baptism, Jesus Christ touches us, moves us, embraces us, changes us, and indeed, unites himself to us so that we can be united to God. For at your own Baptism, the Father also declared: “You are my Son, the Beloved; my grace rests on you.” (Cf Mk 1:11)

One of the things that has been missing from our churches – one of the first things to be taken away, in fact – is the holy water at the entrance. In St Dominic’s, our stone holy water stoups are so large that they look like a baptismal font, which is fitting because the holy water that should be there points to the Sacrament of Baptism. Sadly, instead of the holy waters of Baptism, we now have sanitisers, and perhaps you’ve also absent-mindedly crossed yourself with this as you entered a church! 

But, once again, this man-made solution can serve to show us how very different and limited this is compared to God’s solution. At first glance there can seem to be some similarities: the sanitiser kills germs, and Baptism washes away sin. But this is only a very superficial similarity. For whereas the sanitiser only kills the bacteria and viruses on your hands, in the crevices of your skin, and so on, it merely acts on that which isn’t human and reacts with those things that are outside of me, on the surface of my hand. 

The Sacrament of Baptism, on the other hand, doesn’t merely wash over me externally. Rather, it acts on that which is human, acting interiorly on my rational soul, forming my human dispositions and making me more responsive to the Holy Spirit, more obedient to the Word of God, more humbly and trustingly Child-like towards God my Father. In a word, the Sacrament humanises me, by restoring my relationship with God and with other people, placing me within the communion of God’s friends that we call the Church. The Sacraments, because they are devised by God for us human beings, make us more truly human by making us more open to love. So the grace of Baptism, which is at work within us over our lifetime, makes me become more like God the Son, more Christ-like, more loving of God and his commandments, as St John says in today’s Second Reading.

However, something can still be missing, and that something is you and me. I don’t just mean that people are missing because they’re staying away during this pandemic, or because of Covid restrictions. I mean that people can be missing, even well before 2020, if they’ve not really wanted the Sacraments but treat it like a cultural rite of passage; if they’ve not really been engaged with the Christian life and its demands; or if they’ve not really been present to all the graces that God has been pouring out upon us. Tragically for many, the Christian life, which is a call to a living relationship of love with God, can lapse into something distant from my full human experience. So, to use a rough analogy, it can become a bit like being at a Zoom meeting but with my camera and mic turned off; or trying to have a party with friends via Zoom: it’s virtual, not quite real, because it doesn’t really touch me or change me as a human person. Consequently, what’s missing has been the whole human person, body and soul. And yet, it is for this full human encounter that God became Man, and that Christ continues to give himself to us in the Sacraments. 

So, this is vital: for the Sacraments to take hold and deeply work in us; for God’s grace to actually have a powerful effect in my life, then my disposition, my receptivity, my willingness to be changed by God, and to let him encounter the whole Me is needed. As St Augustine says, “God who created you without you, will not save you without you”. Because God acts humanely, and so he respects our human freedom, and he wants to save the whole human person in a humane way by inviting you and me into a relationship of mutual love with him. God does this through the Incarnation of his Son; through the attractive teaching and example of Christ; through the grace of Christ communicated by the material instrumentality of the Sacraments and the beauty of the Liturgy; and through the communion of Saints. So, if today you should hear his voice, harden not your hearts, but respond to his invitation, and give yourselves, body and soul, to this relationship of love. As the prophet Isaiah says, the Lord calls out to you and me in a way that engages us, body and soul: “Come… eat… listen. Pay attention, come to me; listen, and your soul will live.” 

If you’re not baptised yet, but thinking about it, come. If you’re already baptised, like me, then let's listen and follow Jesus more closely. For, as St Augustine says, thus we shall realise that “to fall in love with God is the greatest romance; to seek him the greatest adventure; to find him, the greatest human achievement.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 23

WARNINGS: SMUT. NSFW.

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

“So how mad are you?” Tyler asks, as he stands in the doorway of the main floor laundry room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.  

The situation is touch and go. She hadn’t set foot upstairs while he’d carried out Millie’s bedtime routine or when Kyle had wandered in with a sleeping five year-year old under each time; dumping each of them fully clothed into their beds before taking off again.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she counters, as she gathers a bundle of laundry from inside the dryer and drops them on top of it. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Well, besides getting  glitter all over the goddamn place.”

“You can blame your daughter for that. She's a little obsessed with sparkly shit.”

“Just a little,” Esme agrees with a grin.

He takes it as a sign that all is well between them and finally approaches, standing behind her and pushing a hand through her hair, tangling his fingers in the soft, fine tresses and lightly tugs; drawing her head back and kissing her. Teeth lightly capturing her bottom lip as he pulls away, and she gives a grin and reaches back to grab a hold of his ass, lightly squeezing before he steps beside her.

They work in companionable silence; each tending to handfuls of clean clothes that they drop into a wicker basket that sits on the floor between them. And he glances over at her every few seconds; eyes wandering her entire form; clad in nothing more than one of his old t-shirts, tattered and filled with holes and paint stainss.  Taking in the way her hair falls to just below her shoulders and brushes against the sides of her face; the natural red high lights sparkling under the artificial light.

She catches him watching her and a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Almost seven years later and she’s still self-conscious about how she looks to him. Always fretting about the shape of her ass or the size of her thighs and how wide her hips have gotten. He sees none of that; he doesn’t notice the extra ten pounds she complains about or the stretch marks she tries desperately to hide. All he sees is the woman that he’d fallen in love. And keeps falling in love with each passing day.  

“Tyler...” she says.

“Esme...”

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not staring. I’m admiring. I’m not allowed to admire my wife?”

“Admiring or critiquing?”

He frowns. “What the hell is there to critique?”

“I’ve had five kids. Things don’t look like they used to,” she laments. “I’m definitely not the same person I was when we met.”

“Neither am I.”

“But you’re only getting better with age. Me? I just get worse.”

“Baby, have you looked in the mirror lately? Because you look fucking amazing. And I know you’re just going to say I’m just being biased or that I’m just trying to boost your ego. But it’s true. Every word. You’re beautiful and you’re sexy and you always will be in my eyes.”

He hates not only what her own battle with depression and the monsters from her past has done to her, but also her disastrous first marriage; Mark’s abusive behavior –physical, emotional, sexual- leaving so much damage in its wake. And it’s been a full-time job in itself getting her to see herself the way he does. It’s his main bone of contention in their marriage: having to listen to her degrade herself and drag herself down when he just wants to worship the ground she walks on.

“Even after five kids?” she challenges.

“Especially after five kids. I don’t know what more I can say. How to get you to see yourself like I see you. I just wish you would.”

“Maybe you need glasses.”

“Maybe you need to stop. I love you. And I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I have since that day you walked into my place. I don’t see what you do.  I don’t see the extra weight you bitch about or the marks on your skin or the how your clothes don’t fit like they used to. All I see is you.”

“You really are determined to make me cry by the end of the night,” she teases, and playfully slaps him in the face with one of Addie’s sleepers.  

She watches the way his hands move as they fold that simple piece of clothing. His hand –from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle digit- longer than the actual sleeper itself; those fingers with their various scars and their swollen and misshapen knuckles never fumbling as they tend to impossibly tiny buttons.  She knows what those hands are capable of; the things that they’d done. The blood he has on them; hundreds of men in Dhaka alone were dead because of those hands. Large and powerful. Frightening, even.  

But she also knows how those hands feel; the callouses on the palm and the even more prominent one on the right index digit; his ‘trigger finger’. She knows they’re capable of inflicting so much more than brutality and death. They can be soothing and gentle; rocking babies to sleep, caring for the kids’ injuries and clearing away their tears, massing her aching back when in the agonizing final stages of childbirth. And she knows how they feel during intimate times; how they can alternate between gentle and rough depending on his mode and what how she wants and needs his touch to be. She’s experienced those delirious heights of pleasure that they’re more than capable of bringing her to.  

She looks away; the mere thought bringing a flush to her cheeks and a familiar warmth that builds between her thighs and in the pit of her stomach.  

“I was always looking at you because I was trying to figure out if you’re wearing underwear or not,” Tyler admits.

“This is not a safe house to walk around in wearing JUST a t-shirt.  Not only do we have all kinds of little people that can show up out of nowhere, but now we have Kyle wandering in and out.”

“How long’s he staying for anyway?”  

“He SAID his vacation was for two weeks.”

“But? There’s a ‘but’ coming. I can feel it.”

“He did say if he liked it here that much, he might not go back.”

Tyler sighs.

“I thought you liked my brother.”

“I do. I just don’t like the baggage he brings with him.”

She smirks. “Nik?”

“We just got rid of her. He sticks around, that means she’s going to come back. And I don’t know about you, but the less of her the better.”

“She does tend to bring the drama with her.”

“Drama, home wrecking, whatever you want to call it.”

“But if we could get him away from her...”

“We are NOT getting involved. We just talked about this. We agreed to stay out of it.”

“No, you agreed to stay out of it,” Esme corrects.  

“And I told you to stay out of it.”

“When do I ever listen to anything you say?”

He smirks.

“We could always kick Chloe out and have Kyle take her place.”

“You mean Ovi could kick Chloe out. Because we’re not doing shit. We are staying out of people's personal crap. Didn’t you hate when people were always in our shit back in Colorado? Your mom, your other brothers...”

“But they’re evil and were always trying to cause problems. We’re trying to avoid a huge problem. If we get Kyle away from Nik, then there’s no more Nik. That way if he stays here, we won’t have to worry about her coming around and sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Neither wants you to stick in her...”

“Let’s not start that conversation again.”

“I’m just trying to think of what’s best for my brother. And I know she’s not it.”

“Then you never should have set him up with her in the first place. This is kind of all your fault.”

Frowning, she rolls up the beach towel in her hand and smacks him hard across the ass with it.  

“I’m just saying that we need to stay out of. Let Kyle do what he wants and whatever happens, happens. I just don’t want him living here. We have enough people living under this roof. We don’t need another one.”

“And yet you want another kid,” she scoffs.

“That’s totally different and you know it. That’s a kid. That we’d make together. Kyle’s a grown ass man. Let him be one. Stay out of it. If he wants to marry Nik, let him marry Nik. If he wants to dick down the neighbor, let him dick down the neighbor. Who gives a shit?”

“And if he’s dicking down both?”

“Then good for him. He’s lucky.”

She rolls her eyes.

“He manages to juggle both of them, he’s a fucking legend.”

“You’re going to be juggling both your balls in a second. Is this your sly of way of telling me you want to be dicking down the neighbor?”

“Are you fucking insane? No way in hell.”

“You have to admit, she’s cute.”

“She’s not you. I don’t want to be dicking down anyone else, okay?”

“You know,” she grins. “Sometimes you can really redeem yourself.”

“And even if I did want to, I wouldn’t have the energy to dick anyone else down anyway.”

“I’m not sure if that’s reassuring or...”

“Just you, baby. I only want you.”

She smiles, then lightly bumps his hip with her own.  

“So I never did get a yes or a no.  About the underwear.”

She gives a dramatic sigh and then lifts the bottom of the t-shirt to her waist; giving a slight peek of the elaborate and colorful tattoo that graces her entire left rib cage, and a look at the lacy black garment that sits low on her hips but is cut high on her ass. “Good?”

“Very good. Very, very, very good.”

“You’re getting easy to please in your old age. Pretty soon all it’s going to take is some side boob to get you in the mood.”

He grins. “Who says it doesn’t already?”

“You have been very...what’s the word...amorous...lately.”

“Lately?”

“I mean, you always are. You always HAVE been. Our track record was amazing sex over the past almost seven years is remarkable. But since the doctor gave that green light, you’ve been extra...I don’t know...extra.”

“Do you blame me? I just went four months having to flog the bishop two to three times a day.”

“Flog the bishop,” she can’ t help but laugh. “Baby, you’re so cute.”

“What I am is horny.”

“Yeah,” a grin tugs at her lips.  “I’ve noticed that the last couple of days.”

“No. I mean like right now. This very second.”

“I’m busy.”

“Get unbusy,” he says, and yanks the piece of clothing she’s folding out of her hand and tosses it aside.

“You need to chill,” Esme suggests, and then has the nerve to bent over in front of him as she fetches a wayward sock off the floor; the shirt slipping up to the small of her back.

Just the mere sight of her ass –that smooth, pale skin- causes his cock to stir; the pressure beginning to build in the pit of his stomach.  And he reaches out, running a fingertip along the edge of the lace, feeling the goosebumps that prick her flesh.  Finger slowly travelling over her skin until he reaches her hip; then pressing his palm against it and squeezing tightly.  

“That hurt!” she scolds and reaches around to rub at the tender spot. “What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s what I want to get into you.”

“Okay, well can give you five minutes to get shit done? Patience is a virtue, after all.”

“Screw patience,” he growls, the slams the dryer door closed and places on hand her stomach and the other at the base of her throat, fingers applying slight, yet firm pressure as he presses his erection against her.  His hand slips down the front of her panties; fingertip dragging along the top of her pubic bone, his breath warm and moist as his mouth hovers by next to her ear. “Let’s fuck.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but all words escape her when she feels the tip of his nose and the scratch of his beard against the side of her throat, followed by the sensation of his hot, wet mouth. Lips aggressive and demanding against the skin; teeth lightly grazing along the flesh, fingers pressing harder and deeper into her neck.  His aggression has always been a turn on; starting with that moment he’d pinned her against the wall in the hotel room in Dhaka in a fit of a rage. She’d quickly discovered it was what she liked. What she craved. And she’d initially been ashamed because of it; Mark had caused a tremendous amount of pain and torment during their shit show of a marriage, so she’d felt disappointed and disgusted in herself for wanting sex to be that way with another man. But she’d learned that the two situations were vastly different; one was abuse, the other someone she trusts with her life. Who’d never intentionally do anything to hurt her.

She presses her ass against him; loving the way he groans in her ear. It’s empowering. Knowing you have that kind of effect of someone. When you know all the little things that drives them crazy; those magic spots that can nearly bring them to their knees. And she reaches up to grab a hold of his hair as he kisses her. His tongue aggressively pushing its way into her mouth just as his hand slides lower into her panties, palm cupping her mound; hot and wet against his skin. Giving a low moan of approval at the sensation before his mouth finds the side of her throat once again. Her eyes closing and the grip on his hair tightening as two of his fingers push past the swollen lips, the ends coming in contact with her clit; causing her body to shudder against and her hips to jolt backwards, bringing her ass in contact with his cock yet again.

“Fuck...” he growls. The simple contact even through the fabric of his sweats causing the pressure to build; erection painfully straining against the confines around him. And she cries out when his teeth clamp down on the juncture between neck and shoulders and he slips two fingers inside of her.   “So good...” he breathes, mouth against her neck. “...you feel so good...and you’re so fucking wet.”

“For you,” she says. “Only for you.”

A low and almost feral moan resonates from deep within his chest and removes his hand from inside of her panties. His gaze never wavering from hers as he licks and sucks her fluid from his fingers, the taste sweet and delicious on his lips and his tongue.  

“Tastes so good,” his voice is low. “So fucking good.”

There’s a primal, animalistic look in his eyes; a hunter stalking its prey.   And it makes that aching and longing between her legs almost overwhelming; almost too powerful to bear.  She grinds her ass against him once more; feeling how hard he is through the fabric of his sweats. His breathing quickening and become more ragged as she continues to rub against him, feeling the way his fingers bite into her hips. And she attempts to slip her own hand between her legs to chase some relief, but he roughly grabs her by the wrist, then brings her arm behind her back.

“I don’t fucking think so,” Tyler snarls, and uses the force of his grip and the weight of his body to propel her towards the countertop across the room. A knee pushes her legs apart as he keeps her arm secure behind her back; his other hand roughly yanking her panties off her hips and over her ass, letting them to pool at her ankles. “Take them off,” he orders, and she hurriedly obliges.  

Anyone else in this situation and it would scare her, the intensity in his eyes, the aggression in both his voice and his movements. But the trust is there. It always has been. The confidence that he’d never hurt her; that he’d stop the very second she showed any signs of pain or discomfort.

Tyler tightens his hold on the wrist that’s pinned behind her back and pushes her further into the countertop. His free hand on her shoulder; pushing her upper bod down before hastily shoving down his sweatpants. “Open,” he demands, using a thigh to push apart her legs. And still holding her arm firmly behind her back, the other hand settles on her shoulder as he pushes into her with one smooth, solid thrust that has her crying out, cheek pressed against the cold ceramic beneath her.  

He hesitates; leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You okay, baby?”

“Mm...hmm...” she responds, and pushes her ass back, encouraging him to continue.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Just fuck me,” she orders. “Now.”

He grins. “You’re demanding.”

“Now!” she forcefully repeats and reaches back to dig her nails into his thigh, hard enough to break the skin.  

He pulls out completely, smirking at the disappointed, pissed off look that crosses her face before slamming back inside of her with brutal force.  It always surprises him; how someone that small and seemingly fragile can take as much as she can. How she’s always so eager and willing to this side of him to come out; aggressive, mean, controlling. Sometimes it even scares him; how quickly he can lose control of both the situation. Afraid that he’ll hurt her and then spent a week hating himself for it.  

But he gives her what she wants. Repeatedly driving into her; that arm still pinned behind her back, the other hand now on the back of her head; spurred on by her pleas for ‘harder’ and ‘faster’. Sweat beading across his forehead and gathering at the nape his neck and the small of his back. Fucking her until she loses the ability to form coherent words and is gasping and sobbing; tears streaming down her face. Hips jerking back towards him, matching every movement.   And he drops the hand from the back of her head and reaches between her legs, fingers easily finding her clit; vigorously and relentlessly rubbing at it until her orgasm hits her. The scream muffled against the countertop and those internal muscles contracting almost painfully around his cock. It quickly brings on his own release; a few deep, controlled thrusts until a deep, low growl rumbles in chest and he empties himself inside of her.

He finally releases the hold on the arm behind her back; both hands now resting on her hips as he closes his eyes and drops his forehead onto her shoulder. Chest heaving and legs sharking as he attempts to regain his composure.

“Tyler...” she reaches around and lays a hand on his thigh, trying to push him back. “...I love you, but you’re really fucking heavy.”

He didn’t realize his entire weight had collapsed against her, and he places a kiss on her cheek and gives an apologetic smile before backing away, withdrawing completely.  Snagging a towel from the laundry basket, he uses it to clean himself up, then gently presses it between her legs. “You alright?”

Esme nods.

“Was I too rough?”

She shakes her head. “You were perfect. But I swear to God if you got that towel out of the clean basket...”

“Sorry,” he gives a sheepish grin, then kisses her softly before tossing the item in question into the nearby sink before pulling his sweatpants back up. “Here,” he locates a pair of pajama pants in the dryer and hands them to her. “I don’t think you’ll want to put that underwear back on. They’re a little...wet.”

“Well if you didn’t have that effect on me, they’d be perfectly fine,” she retorts, and then turns to face him; hands on his chest for balance as he helps her slip into the pants.  “I never thought you’d be the type of guy who’d be into aftercare,” she teases.

“I never was. Until I met you.”

“Look at me. Bringing out all the good sides of you.”

“All the best sides,” he declares, then lays a hand on the back of her head and kisses her. “You sure you’re okay? I think I was a little too into it.”

“I would have told you if you were. You were amazing. Trust me. And thank you,” she stands on her tiptoe to kiss him, her arms wrapping around his neck. “I love you,” she says, as she buries her face in his chest, fingernails lightly scraping against the bottom of his hairline. “So much.”

“I love you too, baby,” he brushes his lips against her temple. “Always.”

****

The second time lasts longer. Slow yet intense love making that follow two rounds of foreplay.  Now they lay in a mix of tangled sheets and sweaty limbs; on their sides with her back tucked into his front, one of his legs draped over hers and their tightly clasped hands pressed against her stomach.  Tyler’s eyes are closed, tip of his nose and his lips pressed against the nape of her neck; happy and sated. Not just from the sex, but from the intimacy afterwards; lying together and feeling the warmth that radiates from her body and the familiar smell that clings to her hair. And she gives a long, content sigh and turns her face to the side, smiling back at him.

“You asleep?” she asks.

“Nope. Just completely and utterly fucked out.”

She laughs at that, and he gives a chuckle of his own and raises his head long enough to kiss the corner of her mouth.

“I love you,” he says, and brushes his nose against her temple.

“I love you too,” she snuggles tighter into him and increases the grip on his hand. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing really. Just lying here. Thinking about how happy my dick is right now.”

She snorts.

“Which is very fucking happy, by the way.”

“If he wasn’t, I’d be very insulted.”

“What are you thinking about?” he inquires.

“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He frowns. “As long as it’s not Dhaka. Because if you say Dhaka...”

“It isn’t Dhaka,” she assures him. “As amazing as those five days were...”

“Best five days of my life.”

“...I was NOT thinking about that place. I was thinking about that shack of yours. After Millie brought it up, I started thinking about wanting to go there and see it.”

“It doesn’t look the same anymore. Not after what he’s done do it.”

“You mean it actually has walls and an actual roof now?”

“Listen, smart ass...”

“I don’t care what it looks like. I just want to see it. It’s where everything started. It’s where WE started.”

“Technically WE didn’t start until Bangladesh.”

“But we met there. At the shack. It’s where I first saw you. It would be nice to go and see it. To see Koen again. And bathroom chicken.”

“I don’t think bathroom chicken is there anymore. I think he’s probably made dinner out of her by now.”

“That dick. That’s fucking savage.”

Tyler chuckles and presses his lips to the side of her head. “You eat chicken,” he reminds her.

“I wouldn’t have eaten HER. We could have kept her as a pet. Or considered her our first child.”

“I remember when we were in Dhaka and...”

“Hey!” she jabs him in the stomach with her elbow. “No saying the D word.”

“When we were THERE, I used to think about how we’d make things work. If they went okay between us and we didn’t kill one another while we were travelling. If you’d be happy staying there with me whenever you came to town.”

“Why wouldn’t I have been?”

“It wasn’t exactly five-star accommodations.”

“You were a bachelor. You didn’t care what your place looked like. You were on the job so much it was basically just a place to eat and sleep. And fuck some of your pieces of ass.”

“I never had any pieces of ass there. I didn’t want anyone close to home. In case they got attached and started showing up all the time.”

“What about Nik? I’m sure she visited you there.”

“We only ever fucked when I was on a job and she’d show up at the hotel. Never at my place. I didn’t want her there. I didn’t want ties to anyone, which meant keeping them away from my place.”

“You’re a very complex man, Tyler Rake,” she muses. “But you thought about having me there.”

“Because I wanted you there. I wanted you to be part of my life. If it was a dick and ditch, I would have told you right from day one. When we first fucked.”

“So you wanted to keep me around. Right from the start.”

“More like from the third day in. I was hopeful. That you’d want to stick around.”

“And here I was thinking it was me getting attached way too soon,” she teases, and he smiles against the back of her neck. “I was hopeful too. That there’d be more to it. That we’d travel like we planned and find out if we actually liked each other outside of sex. We never got that chance though.”

“No. We didn’t.”

“Do you regret that?” That it never went according to plan?”

“No.  It’s the butterfly effect, right? Change one thing, everything changes?”

She grins. “When did you become the deep thinker?”

“Not just a pretty face and big muscles, baby. If things had had went the way we planned, there’s a chance that the twins and Declan and Addie wouldn’t even be here. The only for sure one is Millie.  Because I wasted no time knocking you up with her.”

“Your swimmers were very determined,” she concludes. “I wonder what day of the five it happened on. I hope it wasn’t the first day.”

“Why’s that?”

“You want your daughter knowing she was conceived while you were choking me?”

“You want her to know how much you like it?” He counters.

“How about we agree to keep our mouths shut. Because those five days were extremely dirty and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Deal?”

“Deal,” he agrees, and presses his lips to her shoulder; lingering on the lotus flower tattoo that graces her skin.

“I would have been happy there,” she says. “At the shack.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “I think WE would have been happy.”

“Wouldn’t have been able to raise a family there. Maybe one kid. But not five.”

“We would have had to move once we found out about the twins. Or added onto the place.”

“The outback is not a place to bring up kids. Trust me.”

“I would have liked some time with you there. Even just a little while.”

“Honestly? I would have just liked to fuck you there. At least once.”

She looks over her shoulder at him, frowning.

“What? You have your thing, I have mine. Just ‘cause it sounds weird, doesn’t mean it is. And I’m not gonna lie, I would have done it that first day.”

“Seriously? What about Nik?”

“She could have watched.”

“I don’t fucking think so,” Esme scoffs. “Bad enough she’s seen you naked. I don’t want her seeing me naked. Seeing us...you know.”

He grins. “Fucking?”

“To be crude about it, yes.”

“She could have just waited outside then,” Tyler reasons.

“You wanted to seriously fuck me the first day we met?”

“First day? First ten minutes. Do you blame me? I’m a guy. And you walked in there looking so cute and...”

“Cute? You’re calling me cute?”

“What’s wrong with being called cute? I think you’re very cute.”

“I want to be beautiful and sexy and alluring and...”

“You’re those things too.  But sometimes you look cute. That’s not an insult. You’re tiny and cute and I want to pick you up and put you in my pocket. And you looked cute that day. You had on those little jean shorts and that yellow tank top that had one strap that kept falling down. Your hair was in a ponytail. And you smelled like coconut.”

She rolls over onto her side to face him. “You remember all that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Like I said, you looked cute. And you walked in there like you owned the place. All fucking attitude. I liked what I saw. You were different. You didn't take shit and you let me know pretty early that you weren’t going to put up with any from me.”

“I knew it. You’re turned on by assertive women.”

“Well I was turned on by YOU. I don’t know about other assertive women. I so would have fucked you. Right there. Right then.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered, or....”

“Flattered. Definitely flattered.”

“For the record, I would have let you.”

A broad grin covers his face. “Yeah? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey you, nice hair. Let’s fuck’?”

“That would have worked actually. I would have been like ‘let’s go’.”

“Why didn’t YOU say anything? Esme counters.

“I was trying to be a gentleman.”

“You plied me with alcohol.”

“I asked you if you wanted a drink and you said yes. I gave it to you. I didn’t ply you with it. There’s a difference.”

“Well even without the booze, I would have given in. Just so you know.”

“I used to have a thing about wanting to fuck you on the kitchen table,” Tyler admits. “Just bend you over it and just give it to you.”

“You’re dirty.”

“That’s tame compared to some of the things we’ve done. Most of them, actually.”

“You’re such a bad influence,” she declares, then places a hand on the back of his head and kisses him; mouths moving slowly against each other, naked limbs rubbing and brushing together.  And when he pulls away, he brushes the hair away from her face and presses his lips to her forehead, then the bridge of her nose.

“I’m hungry,” Tyler announces.

Eme sighs. “Me too. What are you going to make me?”

“What do you want?”

She shrugs. “Guess we’ll have to see when we get down there.”

“How come I have to be the one to make it?”

“Your daughter said that you were the good cook, so I’ve given it up and handed you the reins,” she chides. “You wanted to try your hand at the domestic life, well there you go.”

“By domestic life, I meant siting on my ass while you do everything.”

“You wish!” she scoffs, and he pecks his life being throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed. “Baby...” she muses, rolling over onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. “You’re sexy. Can I feel your arms?”

“You can feel whatever you want, whenever you want, however much you want.”

“Wherever and whenever?” she enthuses. “That’s dangerous. What if I start feeling you up at the grocery store or when we pick the kids up at school? Make Millie’s teacher extra jealous.”

“Baby, if you want to fuck me in the parking lot at the grocery store, all you have to do is ask.”

‘Kinky,” she giggles, then frowns when he tosses on his t-shirts at her and lands on top of her head. “Are you really going to Port Douglas tomorrow?” she asks, as she sits up and shrugs into the shirt. “To see your dad?”

Tyler nods.

“And you’re taking Millie?”

“She wanted to see him. And asked if he could come to her birthday party. She even made him a special invitation to give him.”

“You think she’ll be okay? I mean, if he’s having an ‘off day’...”

“If he is, we leave. I wouldn’t take her anywhere I didn’t think she could handle. You know that.”

“And what about you?” She climbs out of bed and stands in front of him, hands on his chest. “Think you can handle it?”

“I did the first time,” he points out.

“Did you?” her fingertips trace the scar on the left side of his chest, where the sniper’s bullet had caught him on the Sultana Kamal Bridge.  

He hadn’t even known what hit him; the shot knocking him off his feet, an immediate burning sensation filling his entire chest and blood rising into his throat. He remembers thinking that he had to get up and get cover; that the sniper would be waiting to take the ‘kill shot’. But his legs wouldn’t work; he was nauseous and dizzy and in excruciating pain and all he could do was drag himself across the asphalt while coughing up blood.

“I think so,” he replies. “I didn’t come home and crack open a bottle and pop some Oxy, so I guess I did okay.”

“I know there’s a lot you’re holding back,” Esme says. “From your childhood. That you’re angry and you’re hurt and even though he’s sick, you want him to pay for what he’s done. And I get it, Tyler. You know I do. And you know I support you one hundred percent.”

“But...”

“I just don’t want Millie hearing all of that. If something happens and you snap on him, I don’t want her being there. Because she’s five and she’s a baby still and she doesn’t need to shoulder adult things. It’s bad enough she asked about the time you nearly died.”

“In all fairness, you brought that up the other night and she’s been holding onto it for days.”

“I know. And I feel like shit for doing it. Sometimes I forget she’s listening and that she’s as smart as she is. She’s insanely smart. It’s almost scary how smart she actually is. Which is why I don’t want her there if things go bad between you and your dad.��

“I promise you, if something goes wrong, we just leave. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Esme agrees. “But I also know what you get like when you go off, Tyler. When you can’t control what you say or what you do. And...”

He silences her with a kiss. “I would never...ever...put our daughter in that situation. You know I wouldn’t.”

She smiles, then stands on her tip toes and circles her arms around his neck. “You’re a good man, Tyler Rake. Whether you think so or not.”

“I think you overestimate me way too much.”

“I think you need to keep your mouth shut,” she counters, then squeals when he pinches her ass hard enough to leave a bruise. “I could take you; you know.”

He smirks. “I’d love to see you try.”

“It’s the little ones you have to watch out for.”

“What are going to do? Bite my ankles?”

“You’re such a dick sometimes, you know that?

“I do. But you love me.”

“Yeah....” she smiles, then tightens the hold around his neck. “...I do.”

[artemisfit]

my reasons to lose weight

One thing i did when I decided to start losing weight was to write down one reason to lose for every pound of my goal weight. I want to be 137 lbs? I wrote 137 reasons to lose the weight to get there.

I want to preface this by saying that these reasons are just my personal reasons for wanting to lose weight, and they have no bearing on and hold no judgement  for anyone else who might read the list. I do not judge anyone for where they are at in their life physically. We are all on our own path. That may sound really patronizing and flighty but it’s true. That being said, for those who suffer with negative body image, some of these reasons might be triggering for that, so please read on with that in mind. 

I don’t even know why I’m posting all of these in a place where other people can see them rather than just keeping them to myself, but I know that the actual process of writing a reason for every pound of my goal weight is something that I found greatly encouraging, so maybe it’ll help someone else?

So without further ado, my reasons to lose weight will be beneath the cut, just because to have them just typed out would make this a very long post. 

To stop hating how I look

To be able to look at my reflection in a full-length mirror without launching into a depressive episode

To be able to look at my own image during a video call without wanting to turn off my camera and hide

To be able to wear the clothes I want and look and feel good in them

To feel attractive and confident

To own my body instead of allowing my body to own me

To be able to enjoy food without being a victim of my appetite

To finally feel beautiful for once in my life

To have clear skin and a clean body

To be able to go up stairs or escalators without running out of breath

To get rid of the stretch marks on my skin

To potentially lessen my anxiety and depression

To be able to wake up at 5 in the morning and feel refreshed

To be the type of person who runs when stressed, not the type to eat her feelings

To never have to wear shapewear ever again

To know the strength that my body is capable of

To look like my own personal motivational photo

To not hate being in front of a camera because I know I’ll look fat in a photo

To treat my body with the respect it deserves

To hear the comments and compliments from friends/family/acquaintances 

To be able to walk around a room in underwear or a dressing gown and feel sexy or at least not self conscious

To see the lower number on the scale at the doctor’s office and not feel like I’m being judged by the nurse

To look good in athletic tights

To be able to stop comparing myself to every girl that passes by (or worse, to my friends)

To be light enough for friends to pick me up

To get to a point where being “what I eat” doesn’t feel like an insult

To be able to wear form fitting clothes without bumps or rolls

To get rid of the bump at the top of my spine and improve my posture

To be able to go swimming without wanting to put a t-shirt on over my swimsuit

To potentially get over my fear and hatred of going shopping in person

To stop constantly thinking people are talking about me and how fat I am

To have more energy

To be more flexible

To not lose my breath after even minimal exertion

To be able to wear a dress without my thighs chafing so bad I get a rash

To get rid of my double chin and perhaps the size/jutting of my actual chin

To have a thinner face over all in addition to a thinner body

To know what having abs feels like

To be able to wear high waisted jeans that zip all the way up and don’t have that pulled gap by the button

To be able to wear “one size fits all” clothing

To be able to playfully sit in a friend’s lap without feeling like I’m going to crush their legs

To improve the strength of my heart

To be confident enough to do karaoke

To be confident enough to wear shorts and sundresses in summer

To be able to do yoga and pilates

To get back into karate or some other type of martial arts

To be able to go to the gym and not feel like everyone’s staring and judging me

To be more active like I was when I was a kid

To be able to run a 5k

To be able to delete the “weight loss” and “motivation” boards on my Pinterest because I don’t need them anymore

To never see a scale number above 150 again

To be able to wear single digit clothing sizes

To maybe see if losing weight helps me wear heels without as much pain

To get rid of the roll-over on my stomach

To have more confidence when it comes to any kind of romance

 To never have to write down “lose weight” as a new years resolution ever again

To be able to fully close my coats and zip up my leather jackets

To have the only muffin top in my life be on actual muffins

To have longer, healthier hair, skin, and nails because my body is clean and healthy and can promote those things more easily

To not feel lethargic and lazy and like a slob all the time

To cry because I lost weight not cry because I gained it

To have my watches and bracelets fit perfectly without leaving marks – same for my rings

To confirm that I do actually have a smaller waist than it currently looks like I do

To lower my risk for health problems later in life

To get rid of the bulk on my thighs – I’ll never have a thigh gap but I can at least not have actual turkey legs

To be able to walk or run 4 miles every morning and not feel like I’m going to die

To stop being so utterly and constantly self-conscious and full of hatred about my own body

To not worry that the guy delivering my takeaway is judging me when I open the door

To look like someone who matches that “London life aesthetic”

To not fear stepping on the scale

To never hear my dad telling me I’ve gained weight again

To be able to encourage my mom in her own weight loss journey

To have thinner, more graceful fingers

To not be the fat friend

To be able to wear sexy, lacy lingerie and feel good in it and not have to buy it in a bigger size and then still be too self-conscious to wear it

To be able to be impressed by my own before and after pics

To not be afraid to see my own naked body when I get out of the shower

To be able to say that I did this, that I achieved my goal and changed my own life

To look good in baggy clothes, not like I’m trying to hide behind them

To enjoy exercise and feel the endorphins it produces

To be confident enough to go for nights out in London and have fun

To be able to buy a whole new wardrobe without feeling like I can’t buy certain things because there’s no way that they would look good on me

To have a higher percentage of muscle than fat

To feel like in at least one area I’m in control of my life and not letting it control me

To sleep better and wake up feeling rested

To hear the comments from my dad’s family in Egypt

To be able to dance around my apartment and not be worried that I left the blinds up

To feel more comfortable in various social situations

To not think that a guy who may or may not be looking at me from across the room is thinking negative things about my looks or my weight

To be able to fit into my fame & partners dress should I ever have an occasion to wear it

To stop feeling so desperate to find new, fad, or quick diets that probably wouldn’t work anyways

To be able to wear clothes like Julia from the magicians

To not feel like no matter what my makeup looks like I’m still ugly

To see the final goal weight number on the scale

To feel like I am worth the work and the effort and maybe even actually believe it

To be able to wear crop tops should I want to

To look good in any youtube videos I decide to make

To be able to make a youtube video or a series of videos at some point about how I lost weight and kept it off

To be able to tuck shirts in to my jeans or skirts and not immediately untuck it because I hate how it looks

To never have to spend hours looking up “weight loss” anywhere on the internet ever again

To feel my clothes get more and more loose

To know what it feels like to have a flat stomach

To not feel like I’m faking whenever I wear something stylish or remotely form-fitting

To be “that hot new phd student”

To have the possibility of a stranger telling me I’m pretty like they do my friends when we’re out (this one is quite selfish but I acknowledge that it’s still a reason)

To get to the point where eating healthy and drinking a gallon of water a day isn’t something I have to remind myself to do, it’s just second nature

To get to a point where I love myself, my whole self, rather than just hating the body I feel like I’m stuck in.

To get to the point where i love exercise and look forward to doing it multiple times a week

To eat intuitively and for enjoyment instead of eating recklessly and unhealthily

To know that I am what i have worked hard to become

To not feel so terrified about changing clothes when others are around

To have slimmer, toned legs

To have a good, shapely bum

To have my hair be my biggest concern when getting ready in the morning instead of “what clothes can I wear to hide my body today?”

To be able to take pictures of my body that will help inspire me and may in turn inspire others should I share them

To see the looks on my friends’ and family’s faces when I get back after being away for a while

To hear the comments from my friends and classmates

To stop hiding behind the camera all the time and be happy to stand in front of it

To stop the thighs of my jeans from wearing out so quickly

To be able to actually live in my body rather than just have it be the thing that takes my head from room to room

To stop feeling envious over the bodies of my friends (I know this is a toxic thing to do/think/live with and I want to get ride of this urge)

To not turn out like a lot of my family

To look more like the girl I used to be when I was a kid and to do her right/do her proud

To see more of the actual shape of my face (do I have good cheekbones? do I have a jawline that could cut a man?)

To be confident enough to go and do my running outside rather than feeling too awkward like people are going to stare and then just using a treadmill.

To get to the point where I know enough about nutrition and my body to be able to listen to it and give it what it needs, not just what I think I want

To get rid of some of the emotional and mental blocks that my physicality has built up for me which prevent me from doing the things I want to do and being the person that I want to be

To have a healthy relationship with food, with exercise, with myself, and with my mental image of myself.

To change the way I think about and talk about myself, to be less self deprecating and more proud

To be able to look at my own body and pictures of myself and find myself sexy and attractive

To be able to buy clothes in stores and not worry that they won’t fit when I get home and try them on

To get rid of the back rolls and actually see some definition in my shoulder blades

To see the look on old friends’ faces (and maybe even more so on those who weren’t friends) when they see how much I’ve changed

To prove people wrong

To prove myself wrong

To be the me that I pretend to be in my fantasies and daydreams

To be more myself, fully and completely, uninhibited and unrestrained

[sugarless-suki-writes]

Big God

Fandom: Inuyasha Rating: M Word Count: 3,367 Chapters: 6 of ?

Read on FF||Ao3

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Chapter Six

Kouga had needed a couple days to nurse his wounds. He continued to leave baskets for Kagome, but he didn’t stay. He couldn’t, not with how beat up he was; he didn’t want to cause her any unnecessary worry/stress with her already stress-filled life. One could argue that if he felt that way he shouldn’t be courting her, but that was different.

His wounds weren’t necessarily bad, they were just numerous. In the past, the skirmishes they had on their borders were always random, without any warning and just started with the heat of the moment. This one though, this one was planned, calculated. He wanted time to try and piece together this puzzle he was now faced with.

The youkai they fought off weren’t low in the ranks of whatever family they came from. Of course, they weren’t super high up either, but they were high enough to cause significant damage and smart enough to execute a plan. This was different than what they were used to dealing with.. he would need to talk to the head of the family when he had the chance. Activity has been increasing as of late and Kouga was never good about keeping up with current events. He only stayed up to date if they concerned him, which was honestly a habit he needed to break out of if he was going to take over in the future.

He went back to focusing on the task at hand: cooking. He was going to ask Kagome out tonight and he wanted to make her another home-cooked meal. He had gone back to giving her groceries and other things for her baskets while he recovered. But, he felt the need to step it back up, especially since he planned on taking her out. He hoped that she would get a day off soon.. hopefully tomorrow. However, he would wait as long as he needed to to see her again, as long as he got to do it.

He let out a sigh, physically shaking his head side to side to try and refocus his attention. His eyebrows furrowed together as he went back to mixing the ground beef with the other ingredients.

He wanted to make her a nice, hardy meal. From what he gathered from their conversations on her break, she always ate something light, mostly salads. While salads were good, he knew she needed more substantial things if she was going to keep working like she was. He realized she didn’t have a choice in how much she worked, but she did have a choice in how she ate and treated herself. On that front, there were multiple things he didn’t agree with, and he knew that she knew better, seeing as she was a doctor. But he guessed that’s what he was here for, to help her out in any way he could, especially in this period of their relationship. He needed to prove himself to be a suitable mate.

Everything was soon mixed together and he started to make patties with the meat mixture. He shaped them with his hands, forming them into an almost oval shape. Once he had the patties formed, he placed them in the pan and started to fry them.

He set a timer to go off for when he would need to flip them. Usually he could eyeball it, but he knew deep down in his soul that his mind was going to drift off to another place as he cooked. Gods he was so useless lately... The miko left his mind a muddled mess, but he couldn’t really complain.

It was then that his thoughts drifted back to her, as they tended to do these days. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about tonight. There was a part of him that feared she would reject him, but he knew deep down that she would accept. He hoped at least. His beast was certainly cocky and confident, and he hoped he would be able to draw from its confidence tonight. He ran a hand through his bangs, stomping his anxiety down and doing his best to focus on the food.

His phone vibrated on the counter.

His head snapped around and he couldn’t stop the grin that graced his features as he picked the device up and unlocked it. Of course, it was from the very miko that had been plaguing his every thought.

[ I’m so tired, oh my god ]

[That bad, huh? ]

[ Like you wouldn’t fucking believe ]

[ Tell me all about it ]

[ It’s kind of a lot, can I call you? ]

[ You can say no ]

His heart was hammering in his chest. She wanted to call him.. They hadn’t breached over to calls and it had been so long since he had last heard her voice. He had to shake his head to clear his mind. He needed to respond.

[ You can always call me at any time ]

There was a small pause before his phone lit up with her call. He answered immediately.

“Well, hello.” he said with a lopsided grin.

“Hey..” she replied, sounding a bit breathless. “Are you sure you’re okay with me ranting, because it really is a lot this time...” He could hear her nervousness over the phone and it made him frown slightly.

“I told you before didn’t I? You can come to me with anything that’s bothering you. I’m here to help in anyway I can, Kagome. I promise.”

There was a small pause before he heard her let out a sigh. “I really appreciate that..” Her voice was so soft and it set his heart racing. Oh gods what he would give to see the look on her face right now, to just have her here with him, in his arms, making her forget all her troubles. He managed to push the raunchy path his thoughts were starting to trail down out of his mind just in time for Kagome to launch into her rant.

It was long, not that he minded, but she went through an array of emotions throughout the entire phone call. It mostly ranged between burning, fiery rage and utter sorrow. It broke his heart to listen to her whenever she would reach a sad point. He could tell by the way her voice wavered and cracked that she was trying to fight back tears. He wanted nothing more than to just show up at the hospital and take her away. He wanted to wipe away her tears, shower her with kisses and make her forget. Hopefully he could remedy her mood tonight.

When she was finally done, she was sniffling and Kouga was certain that she was crying. His beast was in a frenzy, screaming at him to go to her, kill whoever had made her upset. Kouga, however, was more rational than that. He gave her a moment to collect herself before he spoke up.

“I’m sorry it’s been so rough for you.”

“I’m just ready to get off this shift and spend these two days off in peace.” she replied, sounded utterly exhausted. Despite her obvious upset, Kouga couldn’t help but feel excited about the fact she had two days off.

“What time do you get off?”

“I’m supposed to get off at 8, but we’ll see if that actually happens.” He could practically see her rolling her eyes. He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“If you could get me out of the rest of this shift, that would be phenomenal.”

He laughed a bit harder at that. “As much as I would love to, I don’t think I’m capable of such things.”

“You sure about that, given your.... profession?”

“Do you really want me to do my work at a hospital?” he fired back, a huge, dorky grin on his face.

There was a small pause before he heard her sigh. “Well I mean... there’s some pros and cons about that... so I’m a little conflicted...”

“Oh really now?”

“Yeah, I mean... we have patients here so.. that’s a con.. but a pro is that we’re a hospital. So.. y’know... it’d be easier to do our job in that sense. And there’s a morgue as well.. down in the basement.”

His smile grew, if that was possible. He grabbed a spatula and flipped over the patties. “Resourceful.. I like that.”

There was a huff on the other line before her response. “Look.. I’m just saying.”

“I know, I know.” He set the spatula to the side and the leaned back against the counter, crossing his free arm over his chest. “But in all seriousness, is there anything I can get you? Anything at all?”

“Hmmm....” Other than her small, occasional hums, the line was silent as she thought. Kouga could picture what she looked like. Her eyebrows just ever so slightly furrowed, index finger curled at her chin, her teeth pulling her lip into her mouth. Her full, plump, pink kissable lips... Gods what he would give to have them–

“Chocolate. I don’t care what it is, as long as it’s chocolate. No dark chocolate though.. I want something sweet.”

His cheeks were dark, his skin hot as he tried to forget where his mind had been traveling. “Consider it done.”

“Thank you, Kouga, it really means a lot.”

“Of course, anything for you Kagome.”

He heard her laugh and it warmed his heart. He was glad to have provided her some sort of solace in her shift. “I have to get going, but I’ll text you when I can.”

“Yeah, of course. Have a good rest of the night at work.”

She snorted. “Yeah, hopefully nothing too crazy happens in this last 45 minutes.” she replied.

“Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later..”

And with that, the call ended. Kouga stood there, staring at his phone for a couple moments, a goofy grin on his face. He chuckled a bit to himself before he slipped his phone into his pocket and did his best to focus on the food he was preparing. Thankfully, it didn’t take him too long to finish the meal up and he quickly had it packed away. He placed it into the basket and covered it up with a cloth, hoping to help contain the heat. Now all he needed to do was get her chocolate and everything would be perfect.

-BG-

Kagome left the hospital with a sigh, rolling her shoulder as she stepped into the alley. She was only leaving 10 minutes after her shift, a new record for her. She pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Kouga.

[ I’m freeeeeeeeee! ]

It was a little silly, but she felt comfortable with him. The thought made her blush and she tucked the device back into her pocket, however the action was useless as it vibrated almost as soon as she put it away. She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at how quick his response was.

[ Glad to see you survived ]

[ You and me both ]

[ So what do you plan on doing with the rest of your night? ]

[ Probably TV and then passing out, hopefully in bed and not on the couch ]

[ Have you considered moving your TV to your room? Cut out the middleman? ]

[ No I haven’t. If I had my TV in my room then I probably wouldn’t ever sleep, haha ]

[ Besides, how would I enjoy TV with my guests when I have them? ]

[ You can always move it back ]

She snorted a bit at that.

[ Sounds like a lot of work ╮(▰´△`)╭ ]

[ I don’t know if you realize this, but I try to enjoy my time off and do as little work as possible ]

[ Ah, I see. My bad then ]

She laughed a bit more at that. She turned down into the next alley that would spit her out at her complex.

[ What are your plans for the night? ]

[ Not sure yet ]

[ Oh? No trouble that needs getting into? ]

[ Not that I can tell ^.~ ]

[ And just what is that supposed to mean? ]

[ ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭ you tell me ]

Kagome rolled her eyes.

[ Whatever, lol ]

She was soon in front of the stairs that led to her apartment. Kagome let out a sigh and tucked her phone into her pocket. She always hated climbing them at the end of the day, but there wasn’t really anything she could do about it. It was better to just get it over with... and so she did.

She took the steps as quickly as she could, and once she was at the top she took a quick breather, popping her back and shoulders before she walked down the hall to her apartment. The lighting for the hallway wasn’t the best, had never really been the best, and it certainly didn’t help that some of her neighbors didn’t turn on their little “porch light” at night. She wasn’t sure what else to call the light in front of the door. A door light? She was tired.. she needed sleep.

As she drew closer to her apartment, she could see a silhouette near her apartment. Her eyebrows furrowed together. Who could that be? She was a bit more cautious now, readying whatever reiki she had left in her, just to be safe, but as she came closer, her worried disappeared as her breath caught in her throat.

He was here. He was actually here.

Kouga was leaning against her door frame, arms crossed over his chest. He had on a pair of blue jeans, a white T, and of course, his black leather jacket. The only thing he was missing was a toothpick in his mouth. While a part of her wanted to laugh at that mental image, the majority of her, or as she referred to as her dumb monkey brain, was just screaming, “Kouga! Here! Hot! Titties!” It took everything in her to try and fight the heat that threatened to warm her cheeks, no, her entire body. She failed, of course.

Kouga’s head soon turned to look at her, and when he flashed her that lopsided grin, she was done for. Her knees felt weak and she willed them to hold. How embarrassing would it be if she were to collapse in front of him after not seeing him for close to two weeks? It would be downright pathetic, and she had an image to try and keep.

“Hey Kagome.”

“Hey Kouga.”

He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to her, and that’s when she noticed the basket he had tucked into the crook of his elbow. He reached for the basket, slowly, as he walked towards her. She could feel his eyes roaming over her and it sent chills running through her. She tried to not visibly shudder. He was soon standing right in front of her, the basket held in between them. She took it carefully and forced herself to look away from his baby blue eyes to see what he brought her.

A small gasp escaped her as she looked into the basket. Half of it was filled with all different kinds of chocolate and the other had what she knew was a home cooked meal for her. She looked up at him, stars in her eyes and it just about floored him. “You cooked for me again.” It wasn’t phrased in a questioning tone, more breathless and taken aback, shocked.

“Yeah, of course.”

She looked back down at the basket, then back up to him, basket, Kouga. “Th-thank you. It.. it really means a lot. You didn’t have to go through the trouble–“

He pressed a finger to her lips and Kagome had to remember that she needed to breathe in order to live. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that it’s no trouble. I’m trying to impress you, after all.” he said, shooting her a wink.

His finger lingered on her lips for a couple more seconds before he pulled it away, allowing her to reply. “And why would you need to do that?” she teased.

His grin grew. “You think I don’t need to?” She shrugged in response and Kouga let out a hearty laugh. It warmed her heart and caused a smile to break out on her face as well. When he was done, his eyes were shining and Kagome felt weak all over once more. “That’s quite the compliment, you know?”

He stepped closer to her and Kagome removed the basket from between them, holding it at her side. Her breath caught in her throat and she knew, she knew that Kouga heard her, because his grin grew. He brought a hand up, tucking a couple stray hairs behind her ear and Kagome’s skin lit up at the brush of his fingertips.

“So, since I don’t have to try to impress you.. would you like to go out to dinner tomorrow, at 7?”

“6..” she breathed, surprising the both of them. Her cheeks grew hot, turning bright right red in color as his eyes went wide for a couple seconds. He chuckled a bit and cupped her face with his hand, brushing his thumb along her cheek.

“Well, 6 it is then.” He then slid his hand down her face, taking her chin between his thumb and index finger and tilting her head down ever so slightly. He then pressed a kiss to her forehead, and before Kagome could react, or even fully process what was happening, he was gone.

-BG-

Kagome’s breath hitched and caught, trapping a moan in her throat. She shuddered as she climaxed, her body lifting off the bed slightly as her hands pulled away from her clit and her nipple. She flopped back onto the bed after a couple moments, her breathing labored as she laid there and tried to collect herself.

Here she was, taking care of an urge that kept nagging at her, one that sparked back up at a near instant from just the sight of him. It had been bright, burning, blazing... and insistent. Since the moment she had seen him, she hadn’t wanted to let him go. She wanted to invite him in, bring him to her bedroom, let him have his way with her.

Kagome somehow managed to roll ever just enough to bury her face in the pillow. Gods, she embarrassed herself with her own thoughts at times. She was eager for their date tomorrow, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to control herself... She wasn’t going to jump him, but she couldn’t say whether or not she’d be turned to putty by the end of the night. If he just so happened to want to come in at the end of the night, then she wasn’t going to stop him. If he wanted to move things to the bedroom, so be it. If he wanted to rest his head on or between her thighs, then by golly gosh...

Kagome hooked the blankets with her foot and started to pull them up, soon switching them off to her hand. If she kept going down this path, she was going to end up needing to take care of herself all over again. She sighed as she was soon fully tucked under the covers. She shifted so she was fully on her side and a hand reached down to tug up her underwear, which was slightly offset.

As the miko began to drift to sleep, now worn out from her activities, she realized she had a call to Sango in her future. She grumbled, burying her face back into the pillow. She was going to die, and for a multitude of reasons. She would definitely need to rest up for the scolding she was about to receive from her best friend...

[lizzysas]

An Ode to Klaus Mikaelson

Before I go on this crazy journey of breaking down my thoughts from the last two weeks I have to admit that I've not been here from the beginning. I only started TVD two weeks ago and fell instantly inlove with this character. Call it sadism, call it a hero-complex of wanting to save him, call it projection. Whatever it is, I've felt quite some things since learning that he died in TO. I stopped watching TVD four seasons in because really, what was the point?! Anyway, I digress:

THE SOURCE MATERIAL

We all know that TVD was loosely based on the books who by their own right is a bunch of trash once the original author got fired. But it should be known that Klaus Mikaelson was the bad guy. Not "the guy to be redeemed", not "the guy who falls inlove", not "the guy who becomes a parent". HE WAS THE BAD GUY, AND THE BAD GUY WHO DIED!

So he's development as a character was all because of the sheer power and charisma with which Joseph Morgan plays him. Even the foreshadowing of the character prior to his physical introduction alluded to a dark, paranoid and isolated character. Honestly I was expecting a brooding Bruce Wayne type. So I imagine that when JM got in front of the camera and showed the writers his portrayal, a lot of his character arc changed. Suddenly he wasn't the biggest bad of S3 anymore. They had to come up with something else to continue JM's sheer brilliance.

HIS HUMANITY

Now, many says that Klaus's humanity switch was off before he met Caroline and there's plenty merit to this. He's relentless in his pursuit of starting the ritual to make himself the ultimate hybrid. The ritual itself attests to that. He kills Jenna and Elena without a second thought. Even after witnessing all the love that Elena has in her life. And I imagine he killed hundreds more in his quest for hybrid supremacy so what was one more?

He then starts making hybrids. The proudest of which he is of, is Tyler. After 1000 years though in pursuit of his goal and achieving it, he becomes mildly interested in the attachment Tyler has to Caroline. He even calls it an experiment. But then Caroline is bitten. And although he doesn't know her, he jumps at the opportunity to have the Town's sheriff beholden to him for saving her. But our ancient one doesn't quite predict the effect she has on him. Here's an innocent being, full of life, that doesn't want to die. And I imagine, in Klaus's 1000 years, he's rarely come across a vampire that WANTED to be and stay a Vampire. AND THAT IS WHY HE SAVES HER!

HIS AMUSEMENT AND INFATUATION

Now this as we all know can be broken down in multiple facets but the gist of it is... He's drawn to her light. He's drawn to her innocence, her honesty. And Caroline? She's drawn to the evil creature she's been programmed into hating. But he's not quite so evil, is he. Atleast not with her. He shows her his art, he tells her his inner-most feelings. He breaks down his fears. And for the fact that she accepts all this vulnerability, Klaus falls inlove with her. And not once... Not once does she ask him to change. Why? Because Klaus knows he'll never be worthy of her if he doesn't prove it. And she knows, as the time passes on that what he feels for her will sufficiently motivate him to change. So he ends their relationship with the most powerful promise ever to grace our television screens..."I INTEND TO BE YOUR LAST, HOWEVER LONG IT TAKES"

THE UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

Now, here's where I may stand fully corrected on most things because I haven't watched beyond TVD S4 or TO, but I've read sufficiently and seen enough videos to last me a bit. But we all know (those of us who are parents) what a child brings to our lives. They change us. Suddenly we're no longer selfish, suddenly we'd die for someone else, suddenly their well-being and safety means more to us than anything else. Even if that means that we have to remove ourselves from their lives. This is what Klaus does. But he cannot resist the pull the child has on his heart and soul. He cannot help himself but want to give her anything she wants, teach her his art, teach her how to be a wolf (it still peevs me a bit that we only ever see him shift once), watch her grow. But he knows about all the monsters in the world who would want to hurt her. The biggest of which is him. So he goes about trying to make a monster-free world for her, starting with himself. And along the way, some significant relationships evolve for him

CAMILLE

I've seen enough of this relationship to know what it was. A stepping stone. And quite frankly the writers could have actually just put Klaus on a couch like Tony Soprano and it would've had more of an impact. Her entire story arc revolved around him. No personal growth, no self-preservation, no survival instinct. He hurt her, he compelled her against her will, he dissapointed her. If she honestly meant that much to him, he would have never dreamt of doing any of that. But what Klaus got out of it was again... Another experiment. What is the boundaries with this copy? What will break her? What will infuriate her to the point she walks away? What will it take to have her stick around. What can I take out of this and use to my atvantage with the original? Alright, hypothesis proven?! Time to move on.

ELIJAH

This character reminded me so much of Angel from BTVS. He's so tragic and forlorn but for some or other reason, always hopeful. Much like our other Hero from this Universe, Stefan. And he's relationship with his brother is the most tragic of all. It's his Baby Brother. He promised to protect him all those years ago and never did. Perhaps that of which contributed to Klaus's downward spiral into madness and lonliness. Mikael would not have been around had Elijah fulfilled his promise centuries ago. Klaus may have lived his life differently. But for the way it turns out, Elijah will forever have lived with this guilt. Which is why he dies along with his brother. He's entire purpose in life was his brother's redemption and he may have achieved it when Klaus did the most natural and selfless act known. Sacrificed his own life to save his daughters'. Klaus however counted on his brother to always have his back. Even when it meant Elijah pulling him back from the pits of hell he so often loved to go to. And he trusted his brother to do so above all else. Perhaps why Elijah was the only not to be carted around in a coffin for decades or centuries. So it only made sense for these two to have died with each other.

THE ORIGINAL SIBLINGS

Each and every one of them had a unique bond with Klaus. From Rebekah down to Kol. With Rebekah, Klaus has always wanted to protect his little sister from her lonely heart. Granted he went about it all wrong for centuries, even up until the last moments with Marcel. But he did what any big brother did. With Freya, I suspect their was a huge amount of respect for each other. I've not seen enough this relationship to form any other opinion. Kol and Klaus though? What a pair?! They are so volatile around one another. Great when getting along, sheer destructive when not. Then again, so are most siblings.

What Klaus's family was to him though was his centre. You see it in the final season of TO... The season where Klaus redeems himself.

CAROLINE REUNION AND REVELATIONS

How tragic is it, that after all Klaus's development as a character, that he was still so vulnerable around her? His reactions to her affirmations of how he matters. His reactions to learning that she cares. That she came looking for him. After all these years, Klaus Mikaelson still did not believe he was worthy of her. And when she told him he was? He was floored. And he was devasted. Because suddenly he could see it. He could see the future they could have. He could see himself showing her the world, the beauty, all the experiences of life he promised her. Except this future was blurred out and fading fast... Just as his time.

THE END OF KLAUS

He didn't get his happily ever after. He didn't get to watch his daughter grow. He didn't get to be with the woman he loved. He did however get his redemption...

In the eyes of his daughter, his friends, his family and his love. His brother.

And so ended the life of a powerful 1000 year old vampire/werewolf hybrid who started out as the devil and ended as the fallen angel.

I understand the ending of this character. I understand his tragedies, his highs and lows, his loves and hates. I also understand why he ended the way he did. Because anyone, anyone evil capable of love, deserves to be redeemed...

Here's to you Klaus... I will never forget you

[darling-child-tisarwat]

I’m late for crossover day by a few hours but!! Raksura/Murderbot Crossover Day for Murderbot Week!

If you don’t want to read it on Ao3, I’ve copied it under this read more:

“Well,” Moon said as he watched the lone groundling figure stomp through the forest floor, “it’s just one groundling.”

Jade flicked a spine in dismissal. “Look at it though. It’s covered in metal—or something like it. Stone said he hasn’t seen anything like it before, but you’ve been to different regions. Do you know what it is?”

“I don’t,” Moon said, then risked Jade’s annoyance by gliding down closer near the base of the mountain-tree sapling they were using for cover. The groundling was thickly built like an arbora but with none of the grace. It certainly did have metal armor or plating over most of its body, with no facial features, just a smooth, reflective surface like glass.

Jade appeared next to Moon soundlessly and he said, “I think it’s wearing armor. That’s not it’s part of its body.”

Higher up in the branches, they heard a trio of warriors land. Balm glided down and said to Jade, “Knife said there’s a metal flying ship just past one of the hunter’s camps to the south. It’s damaged badly, and the groundling came out of it.”

Moon puzzled over that. “Just one groundling in a flying ship doesn’t—“

A high-pitched keen emanated from a thicket of ground foliage and several grasseaters thundered past the groundling. The groundling widened its stance and its arms shifted to reveal some sort of weapons hidden within. It pointed them in the direction the grasseaters came from, and then two long tendrils appeared, one wrapped around a struggling grasseater, the other whipped towards the groundling.

The Raksura watched as the groundling fired projectiles from its arms, faster and louder than any Kishan weapon. The tendrils retracted, dragging the screaming grasseater back into the foliage.

“Well that wasn’t so bad,” Moon said. Jade gave him a stern look and then the tendrils were back, one using the still screaming grasseater as a bludgeon, striking the groundling in the chest and off its feet. On its back, the groundling was slow to get up, and another two tendrils appeared as the first continued to beat the groundling with the body of the grasseater repeatedly, as the second looped around its legs and neck.

Moon tensed and Jade rustled her spines in warning. “We can’t just let it die,” he said.

“We can,” Jade said.

“We don’t know why it’s here, or if there are others.”

The groundling fired its weapons up into the grasseater as the predator slammed the carcass down on it again. Chunks of meat and viscera flew everywhere and the groundling got an arm under the tendril around its neck while the others tried to restraint its arms. It wasn’t apparent who was winning.

Moon made a face and gestured as if to say I’m going to help, and this is your chance to look like you agreed. Jade growled but jumped off the ledge and onto one of the tendrils, Moon and the warriors following after.

The creature retreated once the Raksura ripped one of its tendrils off, and the groundling sat up and stared at Jade before laying back down again. It didn’t move, just laid there not responding to Altanic or Kedaic. Not responding to anything.

A huge dark shape crested overhead and then shifted to land next to Jade. Stone stood, taking in the scene. Jade flicked a spine in acknowledgment.

“Is it dead?” Sand asked in Raksuran, looking out from behind Balm. Nobody was sure.

“Well,” Stone said after a moment, “Guess I’ll carry it back. The mentors can look at it.”

“What if it starts shooting its weapons at us?” Root said, his frills twitching.

Stone looked unconcerned as he walked towards the groundling and tilted his head to look at it with his good eye. “Then I’ll kill it.”

#

I hadn’t planned to not answer the aliens, but I’m never really one for conversation, even when I’m not being nearly ripped in half by hostiles.

Still, I guess it was sort of rude, seeing as they had helped me. But it was too late for awkward attempts now.

The company’s data packet, shit as it was, had included a file of the layout of the region, a module on Altanic (local trade language), and a brief summary of the Raksura species, seemingly excerpts from a longer data pack written by a Delin-Evran-Lindel. I dunno how the fuck they acquired all of that, if I was supposed to be a preliminary scout to the region (read: meat shield in case shit went south, which it had, I guess.) but it was better than being here without it. And it wasn’t my job to figure out why the company did what it did. All I did was kill things, or kill things so other things didn’t get killed. That’s it.

My current stupid problem: My battery was at 7% and no where near my transport.

“It just stopped moving after you saved it?”

Oh shit. I had avoided looking as that thing had carried me through the air, but opened them as it dropped me down inside what seemed to be a giant knothole in an unbelievably huge tree.

Now I was in some sort of naturally grown room, and looked up to see two humans speaking a language I didn’t know. So there were humans here too. Great. The company didn’t say anything about that, but I guess why would they ever include pertinent information. At least they weren’t on my contract.

“Yeah, just looked at Jade and then laid down and stopped moving. But we don’t think it’s dead.”

“Maybe it’s a defense mechanism.”

I’m extremely uncomfortable at the best of times, but not knowing what they were saying was making me more anxious than usual. I could just say something in the Altanic, but that would require speaking.

“Well what are we going to do? Just wait?”

“Don’t look at me. You’re the mentor, Heart.”

One of the humans crossed its arms, a single bracelet on his wrist. I fixated on for a moment so I didn’t have to make eye contact. Even with my helmet on, I still avoided it if I could.

“Go get Chime. He always figures out weird things like this, and he’s the most non-threatening thing we have.”

“Good idea.”

#

Another human appeared, this one looked more nervous with a mess of sandy blonde hair. He was slow to approach, and held out his hand as if to show he wasn’t a threat and tried to speak slowly. It was more uncomfortable to watch him do this, so I finally just said, “I speak Altanic.”

The human blinked and smiled. I did nothing.

“Oh. Oh good!” He clasped his hands and tilted his head, as if trying to figure out where I was speaking from. He’d probably never seen a SecUnit before, but this whole planet was very strange and I wasn’t about about to explain more than I had to.

“My name’s Chime,” he said and paused as if he was expecting me to give him a name. Which was extremely uncomfortable. After a few seconds he asked, “Are you injured?”

“No, but my battery is low and I’ll have to go into stasis if I can’t charge it.”

Chime stared at me the way humans do when they are freaked out by me and trying not to be.

“What’s a battery? Stasis?”

Shitty company language module. And I doubted they had a ready room or a cubicle I could hole up in.

“I need electrical and resupply leads. If you don’t have SecUnit facilities, I have an adapter I can hook into a standard output.”

Chime’s brow furrowed deeply. He moved towards me, which was alarming in itself, and then he reached out and actually put his hand on my shoulder. And then something even stranger happened:

Performance reliability at 7% and charging.

“Uh.”

Chime removed his hand, apparently aware something had happened. He looked at me, and then shit just kept getting weirder.

“Are you a shifter?”

I had no idea what that meant. So I froze up and said nothing.

“Do you have another form? Are you magical?”

“What?”

Then Chime blurred and if I was capable of pissing myself, I would have. His outline warped and shifted into the form of one of the lizard creatures that had brought me here.

Okay. That’s normal.

I must have said it out loud because Chime said, “most groundlings freak out and think we’re going to kill them. Usually we don’t, though.”

“Sounds familiar,” I said. Chime smiled and at this point I was in too deep so I flipped my visor back and began taking off my armor.

“So it is armor,” said one of the two humans (humans?) from earlier. She had been lurking just outside the door it seemed, listening. Another familiar occurrence.

Once I was vulnerable and exposed, Chime decided to touch me again, which I loved. But the strange recharging happened again, as if I was connected to my cubicle.

“So I’m sort of weird for a Raksura,” Chime said like he was apologizing. All of this was weird, but I didn’t say that. “Sometimes I have abilities normal mentors don’t have—I know I’m a warrior but it’s a long story—and apparently I can heal you. Or charge you. Or whatever you said.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wasn’t about to argue. The alternative was to be stranded on this planet with a crashed transport and a still inactive beacon. I had my suspicions about how and why the transport crashed, but it would have to wait. I could explain after a recharge and a couple episodes of my shows, to calm me down enough to think clearly.  And I think by this point these weird self-energizing aliens would have killed me by now if they had wanted to.

“It looks like I need physical contact with you to heal you.” He seemed weirdly pleased by this  -!: then whipped a tail up and around my wrist. The connection held when he let go with his hand. “Come on, we can settle up in a bower until you’re better.”

The room was quiet and comfortable, with cushions surrounded by a warm hearth. The other two human-lizard things (Raksura) came back, thankfully in their human forms. Horrifyingly, they settled around Chime and I, one cuddling up to Chime, the other resting her leg against me on my other side.

“Listen, I uh,” I didn’t know what to say, so I blurted out the first thing I could think of, “Have any of you ever seen Sanctuary Moon?”

They all froze and looked at me like I had just slapped them. I know my taste in entertainment is quantitative rather than qualitative, but I guess they really hated it.

“Sorry, nevermind I’ll just—“

“How do you know about that court? It’s one of the oldest in the Reaches,” Chime said, somewhat incredulous.

“What? No it’s a drama not a court show—“

“I’m assuming Moon is a pretty common name for a consort,” the one with the bracelet said, his green eyes full of amusement.

“I mean, Sanctuary Moon was an old southern court, near Opal Night,” Chime continued. “The histories are vague, but we think the bloodlines mingled back into one court for some reason.”

“So my name is an old family one?”

“Yes, but you know how we are with names, or, hmm, maybe you don’t know.”

I decided showing them was easier than explaining so I just set the show to project on the wall before us and threw together a slap-dash set of Altanic subtitles over the feed. It wouldn’t translate that well, but it would keep their interest and it would be insufferable to sit there and just talk to them otherwise.

The opening title screen rolled and they all watched at rapt attention.

“That’s Eden,” I said, when they came on screen, and found myself supplementing information and pausing to explain, even rewinding a few times.

After an episode, they seemed genuinely interested, so I put the next one on.

I’d worry about the mission after we got through season one.

[bestfriendforhire]

Children of BFFH, Entry 100

 “Hello, Marisha.  Seeing you again is a pleasure.” stated Aiden just after I was shown from James’ office.  “Would you mind coming with me?” he asked with a small smile.  Aiden had dark blue eyes, but he had his mother’s auburn hair, seeming dark red in bright light.

 “Of course.  Thank you, Aiden.” I told him, following him when he started to walk.

 “Please, call me ‘Aid’.  Everyone does.” he replied, still smiling as he glanced at me.

 “Oh.  Sorry.  I do remember hearing the different nicknames you have for each other, but I didn’t want to appear too casual.” I explained, not wanting him to think I was forgetful.

 “I understand completely, but you’ll be more endeared to everyone here if you use our nicknames instead.  Only some of the adults ever use one of our actual names.” he insisted, seeming to consider the matter settled by how he went silent afterward.  He really was handsome and walked with the casual grace that I associated with the powerful.

 “Aid,” I started experimentally, “you inherited your mother’s gift with heat, correct?”

 He glanced back at me and brushed his hand through his hair bashfully, which was actually really cute.  “Not fully, honestly.  Mother’s gifts come from fey heritage amplified by the corresponding dragon magic.  I received the fey heritage with no trace of the raw strength of dragons.  Sure, I’d be considered extremely strong by your… er… our family’s standards, but I’ll never hold a candle to Mother.”

 “Luckily, there’s no need to destroy cities these days.” I assured him, remembering the estimates of Alma’s power.  I did wonder at the slip.  Did he not think of himself as part of the Slayer family, or was he making a mental distinction between my nuclear family and his own.  The latter seemed more likely, since he couldn’t rightly consider himself powerful next to his parents.

 “True, but Mother can do far more than that these days.  She’s grown considerably from what I’ve been told.” he insisted with no hint of deception.

 If he spoke the truth, Alma might truly have exceeded the power of any known Slayer, which was just a bit terrifying with her lack of aging.  The wiser families had always feared her power back when she was still very active.  I wondered what they would do if they had a clue she had grown.  How would Father react?

 “Is Luce’s water magic also from the fey?” I questioned, interested in his opinion.

 Aid shook his head as he guided me down the stairs.  “Luce purely gained the power of dragons.  She lacks the telepathy of the fey, but I have no doubt she’ll be physically stronger than me eventually, and her strength in magic has continued to grow as well.” he informed me.

 “Hold on, so you have telepathy, like Alaric?” I asked in surprise.

 He shook his head.

 Despite the wards on me, I suddenly saw him standing out in his yard, telling me that fey telepathy was a different beast entirely.  I remembered this from when Doc was showing us history, but Aid’s version made everything seem even more real.  In my disorientation as my mind compared what I was actually seeing to what he was showing me, I missed a step.  He caught me before I even had time to decide what to do.

 “Thank you.  I wasn’t prepared for that.” I told him, feeling a little embarrassed.

 “I apologize for distracting you.  That was not my intent.” he assured me as he released me.  Continuing down the stairs, he said, “Since you’re no doubt more interested in Four than Luce or me, I’ll tell you that his magic comes primarily from Father as far as I can tell.  As such, he’s studied the uses of residual energy extensively and has a stronger connection to the energy than anyone save for father.  If you attempt to use such magic around him, he can stop you with a thought.”

 “I wouldn’t say I’m more interested in Four than the rest of you.” I argued, knowing I wasn’t being honest.

 Aid glanced back to smile at me as he said, “No, but you are.  Like Father, Four emits a spell that causes everyone to think of him favorably.  This can’t be helped and makes fighting him all the more difficult.  If not for the additional protection around you, you might find yourself wanting to show off for him or suffering from an inability to attack due to his face being too charming.  Oh.  My parents did warn you not to attack Messy with intent to do harm during our battle, didn’t they?”

 I shook my head.  “I didn’t even know she participated.  Isn’t that unfair?”

 He nodded, saying, “Quite, if she used her full strength, but she doesn’t.  We follow the tradition of holding back against anyone physically or magically weaker than yourself, so that we might grow more in skill rather than just winning with overwhelming power.  That being said, you must never attack Messy with intent to harm or kill.  Despite the futility of such an attack, you’d die instantly.  Messy cannot help this.  A bullet from any gun, enchanted or otherwise, cannot harm Messy, but an army would be wiped out if everyone attempted to harm her.”

 “Are you serious!?” I asked in shock.

 He looked at me curiously as he asked “You were informed who her mother is, correct?”

 I nodded.

 “Then you shouldn’t be surprised.  Not everyone here knows, so don’t mention that fact.” he warned, his tone almost sounding threatening.

 “I know.” I told him, having been warned by Father that I would simply cease to exist if I betrayed Death’s secrets.

 Apparently believing me, he continued walking as he said, “Then there’s Crazy.  Despite what fighting her will be like if you’re on opposing sides, she is holding back, rarely even exceeding what her mother is capable of doing.  She’s extremely formidable, but she isn’t unbeatable in a restricted fight.  Neither Messy nor Crazy have won every single battle.”

 “You assume I’m trying to prepare myself?” I asked, somewhat amused.  I was really just wanting to compare my family’s records with a firsthand account.

 Aid stopped again, spinning around to look at me.  “I understand that you’ve trained your whole life and have considerable power, but you’re not prepared, not even close.  If Four had been sent to collect you, he would have coddled you and let you find out for yourself.  My parents knew that I wouldn’t, especially not with the reactions of Rona and Layla.  Did you feel you fought well against my sister?”

 “I didn’t do terribly.” I argued, feeling defensive.

 “She was holding back.  Even when your father arrived, she held back.  That’s what we’re trained to do.  If you and your father had used any serious magic, she would have ripped the water straight out of your bodies to save Ella instead of asking for help.  She can.  You’ll never see her do that in practice, thankfully, but she can.  Don’t underestimate any of us, okay?” he asked, gazing into my eyes.  His eyes were actually really pretty too.

 “As you said, I’ve been trained.  I won’t be caught off-guard so easily.” I assured him, though I hadn’t even considered that Luce might have been able to kill Father and me together.

 “You won’t be allowed wards in our battles other than the one placed on you here.  That means Ella will be able to control you if you’re not careful, and I’d wager she’s more skilled at fighting than you are.  You’ll need to be careful.” he insisted.

 “She’s really that good?” I asked dubiously.

 He nodded as he said, “More often than not, Ella is our commander in fights, and she won’t even remember the fight two seconds after we’ve won.  Where the rest of us think about what we could have done better after a fight, Ella typically can’t.  Her memory won’t work that way without extreme focus on Ella’s part.  She had to spend hours on end studying tactics.  What she can do is be exceptionally aware of the present, modeling the movement of everything around her as she acts and seeing how to outmaneuver every last person at once.  I have far better reaction speed than Ella and can sense everyone around me, but I usually can’t arrive at a successful outcome as fast as she can.  The craziest part is that she doesn’t even have to try to do it.”

 That did sound fairly impressive.  Thinking back on it, Ella did seem to be tracking my movements even though she couldn’t physically keep up with me.  “Okay, so what else should I look out for?” I asked, feeling the excitement rising once again.  My fight with Luce had taught me that Aid or Four could probably beat me with relative ease.  Hearing Aid speak so highly of his friends made this sound quite fun.

 “Valeria’s a beginner, but her magic is very versatile with a bit of creativity.  Expect her to redirect attacks, trap people, and attack from your blind spots.” he told me, apparently expecting me to know what sort of magic Valeria had.

 “I’m not really familiar with her, other than knowing that she’s a vampire.” I admitted, interested in hearing what sort of magic she used.

 “Valeria has a limited form of spatial magic.  She can open a doorway from any point into a sort of room and create another door out to a different location, effectively allowing her to teleport herself, others, and whatever else she likes.  We’re not certain what sort of range she has yet.  If she’s tested it, she hasn’t told us, but I imagine Momma Cosette would have had her test it.  I’m a bit curious what happens if she shuts the door before something is fully through, but that hasn’t happened to any of us yet.” he explained, appearing too nonchalant for such a terrifying thought.

 “And how do you escape these rooms of hers if you’re trapped inside?” I questioned, just to be prudent, not because I worried about getting caught.

 “Interdimensional travel, from what Messy told me, though Crazy couldn’t manage it in ten minutes.  That might seem like a short time to you, but I assure you Crazy is a super genius by Slayer standards.  No, that might still be underestimating her.  You’re fairly safe to assume that things she can’t figure out are simply impossible to do with equivalent information.” he assured me, though the idea wasn’t very reassuring.

 Aid continued his explanations as we strolled along the hall of the first floor, and I found myself wondering if even my father knew about the strength of the people here.  James effectively had a personal army under his roof even without considering the adults, and I had heard rumors of a half-demon of tremendous power living here.  Of course, even a demon paled to Death as a tenant, but I was still amazed.  All of the branches of the Slayer family prided themselves on strength, but Best Friend For Hire was in its own league.