#(THE 'JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL' SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE THAN ENOUGH CONFIRMATION ON ITS OWN)

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter One

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3, Tumblr Master Post

Chapter One

“Lightwood’s Mortuary, you stab ‘em, we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

“You know,” Izzy said, “that joke would land a lot better if you hadn’t turned green last week when I mentioned getting to do my first cadaver dissection.”

“First of all,” Jace said, abandoning his laptop in favor of flopping back onto his bed, “it’s creepy that you say ‘getting to’ instead of ‘having to.’ And second of all, no one wants to hear about how much fun you had slicing up dead bodies over Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Max wanted to hear about it.”

“Max also can’t wait to get to middle school because he heard you get to use actual fire in science class,” Jace pointed out.

“Max is just into science like his big sister,” Izzy countered breezily. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Christmas.”

“Please,” Jace said with far more enthusiasm than the situation probably warranted. “I’m desperate enough for any distraction that will take me away from trying to memorize third declensions that I would love to discuss whatever family holiday drama is so colossal I’m hearing it from you instead of Alec. Is Robert planning to show up uninvited to Christmas dinner with his girlfriend again? Oh! Did Mom finally snap and kill him? Is that why Alec isn’t calling? Is he helping her hide the body?”

“Oh my god,” Izzy laughed. “Dad and Annamarie are spending the holidays in Provance with her family, and there are no bodies to be hidden. This is what you get for taking Latin instead of Spanish like a sane person.”

“This coming from a woman who’s studying both,” Jace pointed out.

“Yeah, because a basic understanding of Latin and fluency in Spanish will both help me get into med school, and I need all the help I can get if I’m going to get into Grossman. Besides, I’d never imply anyone in this family is sane. If you studied more, you’d know that ‘Lightwood’ is just Latin for ‘totally fucking cracked.’”

“Please,” Jace snorted. “It’s not even a Latinate name. It’s Germanic. ‘Lightwood’ is Old English for ‘totally fucking cracked.’ Speaking of which, what’s the Christmas disaster?”

“It’s not a disaster exactly,” Izzy hedged, and Jace felt a sudden frisson of actual unease. Izzy normally had no problem speaking her mind. “It’s not a disaster at all, actually. It’s just. I invited someone.”

“Oh.” Jace relaxed. He didn’t know why Izzy was making such a big deal out of this. In the years since the divorce, Maryse had often encouraged her kids to invite any friends without a place to go to join them for holidays. Izzy’s own roommate had come for Thanksgiving last year. “That’s cool.”

“No,” Izzy said, like he was missing something obvious. “Jace, I invited someone. Someone I’m seeing. Seriously.”

“Oh,” Jace said again, this time with dawning comprehension. “That’s great, Iz. I’m happy for you. Wait, Mom’s not doing her overprotective, no-one-is-good-enough-for-my-children thing again, is she? Is that why you called, you need me to run interference?”

“No, no,” Izzy reassured him, although her voice still held an underlying tension. “Mom’s been great, actually. They knew each other already, so that probably helps.” Jace heard a shaky inhale before Izzy continued. “You, um. You know her, too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Jace said with forced ease, wracking his brain for any clue as to what could have Izzy so freaked out. Whatever it was, Jace wasn’t going to add to her stress. As far as he knew, Isabelle had never even been serious enough about someone before to even use the term girlfriend or boyfriend, let alone bring them home for Christmas. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“It’s Clary,” Izzy said in a rush. “I’m dating Clary.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and Jace was glad he was already lying down.

“Clary?” he repeated. “M—” He just barely stopped himself from saying “my Clary.” Because she wasn’t, not anymore. Not for a long time. “Morgenstern?” It was a clumsy recovery, but it was the best he could manage. “You’re dating Clary Morgenstern?”

Jace and Clary had met at the beginning of Jace’s junior year of high school. Clary, a year younger, had just lost her mom, and the two initially bonded over the shared experience of having lost parents. But Clary was fierce and bold and so full of passion even in the depths of her grief that Jace really couldn’t help falling in love with her. They’d dated for nearly two years—practically forever in high school terms—and even though they’d both known they were growing apart by the time Jace had to choose between his first-choice college in Boston and staying in New York to go to NYU, Clary would always hold a special place in Jace’s heart as his first love.

“Yeah,” Izzy said on a heavy exhale. “For a while now. That—that’s why I called. I didn’t want it to be weird, you know? For us all to just show up and for it to be a surprise. But I guess I probably shouldn’t have done it over the phone, either. I just didn’t think—”

“Izzy,” Jace said, much more calmly than he felt. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

“God, I should have told you sooner,” Izzy continued as though he hadn’t even spoken. “I just knew it probably would be weird for you, so I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure—”

“But you are now,” Jace interrupted again. It wasn't really a question. “Sure.”

“Yeah,” Izzy breathed. “I’m so sure.”

“Then it’s not weird,” Jace lied. “I mean, come on, my sister is dating someone who makes her happy and who I know will treat her right. What kind of idiot would I have to be to complain about that?”

“Really?” Izzy pressed. “Because I told Clary I wanted to talk to you before we finalized plans. So, if it is weird for you, or even if you just don’t want to be the only single person at the table on Christmas—”

“I won’t be,” Jace interrupted.

There was a pregnant pause, and then Izzy squealed so loud Jace had to pull the phone away from his ear.

“Oh my god, Jace! That’s amazing! Why didn’t you just say you were bringing someone, too, you jackass? Do you know how worried I’ve been about telling you about me and Clary?”

Which wasn’t what he’d meant at all—he’d only meant that Maryse was single, too—but Jace couldn’t resist the excitement in Izzy’s voice, not after her earlier panic.

“If I’d known you were all freaked out, I would have said something sooner,” Jace improvised. “It’s kind of new, and I haven’t even had the chance to tell Mom yet.”

“Let me,” Izzy insisted. “I’ve been trying to get her to admit that she and Luke are an item for ages, and maybe knowing that we’re all happily attached will be the push she needs.”

“Hold up. Mom…and Clary’s stepdad?” Jace was starting to wonder if this was some bizarre stress nightmare brought on by impending finals.

“Yup,” Izzy confirmed, popping the “p.” “They’re not even subtle about how much time they’re spending together, but Mom keeps talking about how they’re ‘just old friends.’” Jace could practically hear the eye roll.

“Anyway,” she continued, “if I leave now, I can catch Mom closing up the bookshop and maybe finally get her to crack. Don’t worry about Christmas plans. I’ll take care of everything. Talk to you later!”

“Iz, wait,” Jace started, but he was interrupted by the telltale beep of the call ending.

Jace stared at his phone, wondering how, exactly, he’d managed to make such a disaster of things. He couldn’t deal with this right now, he decided, tossing his phone aside. He just had to get through finals, and then he could come up with some excuse for why his nonexistent girlfriend couldn’t make it for Christmas. An excuse that wouldn’t make Izzy suspicious. Or Clary. Or Alec. Or— Fuck. Not thinking about it.

He turned his attention back to his laptop only to realize after several minutes of staring blankly that he wasn’t prepared to think about Latin anymore, either. Fuck it. He was going to spend the rest of the evening on the couch, drinking beer and watching stupid people doing stupid things on TV and thinking about absolutely nothing at all.

Because Jace just couldn’t catch a break, he found both the couch and TV already in use. He wanted to be annoyed, especially since he knew this was at least the dozenth time this semester his roommate had watched Return of the Jedi. Part of him was annoyed. But another part of him was…not annoyed. And that was yet another thing Jace wasn’t going to think about.

Jace’s first impression of Simon Lewis, when he’d walked into History and Literature of Music their freshman year, had been that he was kind of hot, in a nerdy way. His second impression, when he actually talked to Simon a few days later, was that the guy was annoying as hell. Over the course of the year, as they somehow ended up hanging out with the same group of friends, it became a tolerable sort of annoying. So tolerable, in fact, that when Jace found himself desperate for a roommate the next summer when Raj bailed on him last-minute, he’d agreed to let Simon have the second room in the surprisingly affordable apartment he’d found.

Jace’s third impression of Simon came four days after they’d moved in together, when he happened to be walking down the hallway at the exact moment Simon stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, a stray droplet of water trailing down his surprisingly well-defined abs. In that moment, Jace must have lost his mind, because he had the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to follow the path of that droplet with his tongue and, oh. Oh no. Jace had been wrong this entire time. Simon wasn’t just annoying. He wasn’t just nerd-hot. He was annoyingly hot.

And Jace was maybe just a little bit in trouble.

Because he’d seen the kinds of people Simon dated. Thoughtful. Driven. Well-adjusted. Unlike Jace in pretty much every way that mattered. Not that Jace dated, but he wasn’t the kind of person Simon hooked up with, either, he was pretty sure.

(Jace confessed his fourth impression of Simon to Maia several months later, after many, many shots of tequila. Maia laughed at him for a solid five minutes, but she also poured them another round and never mentioned it again after they sobered up because she was actually a pretty good friend despite how much she always seemed to enjoy Jace’s suffering.)

“What’s wrong?” Simon asked around a mouthful of instant ramen. Jace refused to acknowledge that the way his cheeks puffed out when he ate was cute.

“Just.” Jace shook his head. “Holidays. Family stuff.”

“Your sister planning to make Christmas dinner again?” Simon asked.

“Worse,” Jace said, flopping onto the other end of their stained Goodwill couch. “She’s dating my ex.”

Simon winced. “Ouch, dude.” Simon poked at his noodles with a pair of well-used disposable chopsticks. “You still have feelings for your ex?”

“What? No, of course not. It was ages ago, and we were practically still kids. And the breakup was mutual.” He made a face. “But Izzy’s bringing her home for Christmas.”

“Okay, yeah, that could be a little awkward,” Simon conceded.

“It gets worse,” Jace admitted. “When she told me, I kind of panicked and said I was bringing someone home, too.”

Simon frowned. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“I’m not,” Jace told him. “Which is kind of the problem.”

“Wow. You really know how to make things difficult for yourself.”

“Thanks,” Jace said. “Very helpful.”

Simon shrugged, then said, as casual as if he were offering to toss Jace’s towels in with his to make a full load at the laundromat, “You could always take me home with you.”

Jace stared. “What?”

“I mean, I’m going to be in the city anyway,” Simon continued, “and it’s not like my family does Christmas. I think Mom and Becky can manage the traditional Chinese takeout and Fast and Furious marathon without me.”

“Your family watches The Fast and the Furious on Christmas?” It was the only part of that Jace was emotionally prepared to process.

“It used to be Die Hard, but Mom’s got a thing for Vin Diesel, so now we alternate years.”

Jace stared a moment longer, waiting for any of this to make sense. On the television, Boushh threatened Jabba with a thermal detonator.

“Right,” Jace said when it was clear the situation wasn’t going to make sense of itself. “Okay. Rewind to the part where I’m supposed to take you home with me for Christmas and, what, pretend you’re my boyfriend?”

He could picture it all too easily. Simon wielding his enthusiastic charm to keep Izzy out of the kitchen while Jace helped Maryse make dinner. Simon joining Alec in coaxing Jace toward the piano when it was time to sing carols. Simon flushed and smiling after a couple mugs of Magnus’s deceptively alcoholic eggnog. Simon’s hand in his because that’s just something boyfriends do.

It was a horrifyingly tempting prospect.

Jace pushed those thoughts away, crossing his arms over his chest and directing all the scorn he felt at himself into the stare he leveled at Simon. “What’s that supposed to accomplish other than giving me a headache?”

“Hey,” Simon said, setting the dregs of his ramen down on their secondhand Ikea coffee table, “I’ll have you know that I make an excellent boyfriend.”

That wasn’t exactly news. The fact that Simon was friends with basically all of his exes said as much. But Jace wasn’t about to let on that he paid that much attention to Simon’s dating habits. Or to pass up such a good opening. “That why you’re single?”

“Not the one currently desperate for a holiday date here, pal,” Simon pointed out.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty eager to be my holiday date just a second ago,” Jace said, adding a wink just to be obnoxious.

“It was an offer, jackass. One which I now deeply regret.”

“Which you should,” Jace told him, turning to the TV and pretending to watch. “Now we can both forget this conversation ever happened, and I can go back to figuring out what I’m going to tell my family about why my nonexistent significant other can’t make it for Christmas this year.”

“Right,” Simon muttered, picking up his bowl and turning his own attention back to the movie.

Jace told himself he didn’t feel just the tiniest bit disappointed.

“The thing is,” Simon said several minutes later, as Boba Fett tumbled into the Sarlaac pit, “my cousin Rachel is getting married on Valentine’s Day. And my Bubbe Helen is still pretty cranky with me for breaking up with Maia.”

Jace frowned at him. “You and Maia dated for like a month and a half. Over a year ago.”

“Yeah, well,” Simon said, “Bubbe Helen really liked her, but I think maybe that’s because Maia’s the only person I’ve ever brought to a family function. So, I was thinking maybe if I brought someone else to Rachel’s wedding, she’d get the hint and drop the Maia thing. And then you suddenly needed someone to take home for Christmas, and I thought we could, you know, help each other out.”

It was a terrible idea, and Jace meant to say so. He really did. But what came out of his mouth instead was, “You want to introduce me to your grandmother?”

“I mean,” Simon said with a shrug, “she’d probably be happier if you were Jewish, but I honestly think she’d be happy to see me with anyone who’s not a total asshole. Ever since she found out Maia and I aren’t together anymore, she’s been acting like I’m going to end up a lonely old maid or something, which I totally don’t get, because A, I’m only twenty-one, and B, she doesn’t think it’s a problem that Becky’s single and Becky’s two years older than me.”

“Glad to know I meet the very minimal requirement of not being an asshole.”

“Not a total asshole,” Simon corrected with a teasing grin.

“You’re really making a compelling case for trying to convince our families that we’re a couple,” Jace said drily. But he was maybe just a little bit weak for Simon’s smile, so he added, “But you might as well tell me how exactly you think this would work. Theoretically.”

“Theoretically,” Simon repeated. “Right. Well, we’d need to come up with a game plan, obviously. And rules. Rules that we actually follow, because that’s where things like this always fall apart, when someone ignores the rules.”

“Where things always fall apart,” Jace repeated. “Is this something you do often?”

“What? No! I just mean like in movies and stuff. Fake dating is practically its own genre, so we have a ton of examples for how not to do it, and…” Simon frowned as his voice trailed off. “And now that I’m saying this out loud, I’m realizing how dumb it sounds. You’re right. We should forget this conversation ever happened.”

“Or,” Jace said slowly, knowing he was going to regret it but unable to stop himself, “we could spend some time coming up with a plan and then decide if we think it will work.”

“Wait, really?” The slow grin spreading across Simon’s face did nothing to ease Jace’s sense of impending doom, but it did fill him with a soft warmth that made the doom easier to ignore.

“Why not?” Jace shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “I’m done with classes at noon tomorrow if you want to do it then.”

“I’ve got a break from then till three if you don’t mind meeting near campus,” Simon said. “Say, Java Jones at twelve-thirty?”

“Sure,” Jace agreed to the background of Jabba’s sail barge exploding. He hoped that was less metaphorical than it felt.

~~~

“I thought we were planning a couple of fake dates, not staging a major military operation,” Jace said as he surveyed the notebooks and stacks of paper strewn across the rickety cafe table in front of Simon.

“Oh, sorry,” Simon said, hastily shoving exactly one of the many notebooks into his backpack. “I was just reviewing notes for my econ final while I waited.”

“Is all of this really necessary?” Jace asked, attempting to clear enough room on the table for his coffee and the banana muffin that was attempting to pass for lunch.

“It’s so necessary,” Simon told him, reaching over to steal a piece of Jace’s muffin. “I don’t want to end up like Melissa Joan Hart in My Fake Fiancé.” He popped the piece of muffin into his mouth. “Or Melissa Joan Hart in Drive Me Crazy. Oh! Or even worse, Melissa Joan Hart in Holiday in Handcuffs.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

Simon sighed heavily. “I’m saying we need clear, well-defined rules if this is going to work.”

“Is rule number one ‘don’t be Melissa Joan Hart’?” Jace asked, snatching his muffin away when Simon reached for it again and taking a pointed bite.

“No,” Simon said, with far more seriousness than Jace thought the situation warranted. “That’s rule number two. Rule number one,” he continued, opening a blue notebook to a fresh page, “is ‘absolutely no sex.’”

Jace choked on his muffin.

“If there’s one thing everyone seems to agree with, it’s that things always break down when that rule gets broken,” Simon continued as though Jace weren’t struggling to breathe around a mouthful of muffin and why Simon thought they even needed a rule for that.

Jace washed the remaining crumbs of muffin down with a generous swig of coffee, then leaned back in his chair with a deliberately cocky grin. “I mean, I know I’m damn near irresistible, but do you really think you need a rule to keep from jumping me?”

“Rule three,’’ Simon said, scribbling furiously in the notebook, “treat each other with the same respect we’d treat people we’re actually dating.”

“Hey, I would have the same question for someone I was actually dating.”

Simon looked up from the notebook. “That explains so much about your dating history.”

Jace flipped him off, and Simon flashed him a shit-eating grin. “Nope, sorry, rule one. But,” he continued, serious once again, “we should have rules about what kind of physical affection we are comfortable with. Like, I know we don’t normally do hugs, but it would be weird if we never hugged in front of your family if we were dating, right? What about holding hands, is that too much? And what about kissing? I’m definitely cool with cheek kisses, but I don’t know—”

“Simon,” Jace interrupted before he could get too worked up. Or make Jace think about more things he really shouldn’t be thinking about. “You’re allowed to hug me. And hold my hand. Honestly, I’m sure I’d be fine with anything you’re comfortable doing in front of my family, so how about we just go with this: casual touches are fine and for anything else, I’ll follow your lead.”

The look Simon gave him was so searching that Jace almost worried for a second that Simon would be able to see right past his crossed arms and feigned nonchalance to the part of him that was less worried about showing physical affection than how much he wanted it, the part that avoided hugging Simon because he liked it.

“Okay,” Simon said finally. “But you have to promise you’ll tell me if anything I do bothers you even a little bit.”

“You mean like singing Shake It Off at the top of your lungs in the shower?” Jace asked.

“That was one time!” Simon protested. “I was up all night studying and under the influence of too many energy drinks. We agreed never to mention it again.”

“No, you told me never to mention it again and I laughed at you.”

“See, this is why we need rules. You’re already breaking number three.”

“Yeah, because we’re not pretend-dating yet,” Jace said. “That one might be a little rough, but I’m sure I can manage with some practice.”

There was that searching look again, but then Simon nodded like Jace had said something particularly insightful. “You’re right, we should practice.”

“We—what?”

“If we’re going to convince people who actually know us that we’re dating, then we should practice first,” Simon said, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “Not just the rules we know are going to be hard, but all of it, so we can work out any kinks in the plan before showtime.”

And maybe it was reasonable, but it was one thing to put on a show for his family, for Simon’s family, for a few days at a time in places that might be familiar to each of them individually, but that weren’t theirs. It was entirely another thing to do it here, in the cafe they went to at least twice a week, or on campus where they’d first met and had to keep on attending classes for at least another year, or even worse in the apartment they shared, around their friends—

“I really should have thought of it earlier,” Simon continued, blissfully unaware of Jace’s inner turmoil. “My best friend back home, she’s an amazing liar. Like, seriously, she got away with everything when we were kids. But any time she needed me to back up her story, she’d make me practice with her like a hundred times until she knew I could convince her mom and stepdad, even after I got good enough that I didn’t have to practice to convince Mom. Man, those two could sniff out the tiniest discrepancy in any story. Like, if normal parent bullshit detection is a one, my mom’s is probably a solid three, but Fray’s parents? Eleven, easy.”

“I’m pretty sure no one I’m related to has supernatural bullshit detection,” Jace told him. “And it’s common knowledge I’m a better liar than you are, so if you can fool your mom without practice, so can I.”

“Maybe,” Simon conceded. “But a little bit of practice couldn’t hurt, right?”

Jace was pretty sure that it could hurt, actually, but he was also pretty sure he was the only one in danger of getting hurt, so it probably wasn’t worth consideration. Especially weighed against the hopeful enthusiasm in Simon’s expression.

“What did you have in mind?”

“We could start by pretending we’re on a date right now,” Simon suggested. “We’re already sharing a muffin. So, just treat me like you’d treat anyone you were on a date with.”

“My dates don’t usually involve this many notebooks,” Jace told him. “And if my date stole my muffin, the date would be over.”

“Come on, you’re not even trying,” Simon said, gathering up the papers and notebooks. “You’d really ditch your date over a muffin?”

“Absolutely,” Jace insisted. “They’d have to be seriously good in bed to make up for it, and I’m pretty sure rule number one says you’ll never get muffin-stealing privileges.”

“If the biggest benefit to sleeping with you is getting to share your muffins, then I’m not the one missing out,” Simon told him.

“You selling your body for muffins now, Lightwood?” an amused voice interrupted. “I bet I know a few people who’d toss a bran muffin or two your way for a chance at that ass.”

“Which is why you’re not my pastry-pimp, Roberts,” Jace said, smirking at Maia as she helped herself to one of the table’s empty chairs. “I only trade this ass for top tier, gourmet muffins. If your muffins don’t have at least two Michelin stars, I’m not interested.”

“I give him a week until he’s working corners for Entenmann’s,” Simon told her. “He was just threatening to walk out on our date over a bite of mediocre banana nut.”

Maia’s eyes widened. “Your— Oh, shit, sorry,” she said, scrambling out of her chair and throwing them both an apologetic smile that Jace was pretty sure wouldn’t be directed at him if he were sitting with anyone other than Simon. “I swear I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just thought you were studying or something. You guys have fun, and I’ll just—”

“It’s a practice date,” Jace interrupted, “not an actual date. And Simon’s a dirty muffin thief who won’t even put out, so I’m not sure it really even qualifies as any kind of date.”

Maia looked between the two of them, then slowly lowered herself back into the chair. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what exactly is a ‘practice date,’ and why are the two of you on one?”

“Jace needs a fake boyfriend to take home for Christmas, and I need a fake date for Rachel’s wedding,” Simon explained, snatching the last bit of Jace’s muffin without remorse. “And we thought we should practice dating before trying to convince our families that were actually, you know, together.”

“That’s a terrible idea, and I regret any part I played in the two of you becoming friends,” Maia said flatly.

“Yeah, that would probably worry me more if you didn’t say that like twice a week,” Simon told her.

“Oh god, Simon, what did you let Jace talk you into now?” another voice asked, and suddenly there were three more people crowding around their tiny table, because apparently all of their friends were at Java Jones today. Which, in retrospect, Jace should have expected, given how often they all hung out there.

“It was actually my idea,” Simon told Maureen, sliding his chair closer to Jace’s to make room for her, Bat, and Lily. “Jace is taking me home to meet his family over the holidays, and I’m taking him as my date to my cousin’s wedding.”

This proclamation was met with a stunned silence that was broken when Lily turned to Jace and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“That’s for abandoning me, jerk,” Lily told him. “Not that I can really blame you—either of you,” she added, giving both Jace and Simon an appreciative once over, “‘cause damn—but I thought we had an understanding.” She sighed heavily. “Now that you’ve gone over the dating Dark Side, who’s going to be my wingman? You’re probably going to start doing all kinds of relationship-y things and talking about feelings—” she said it like it was a dirty word “—and crap like that.”

“I am not going to talk about my feelings,” Jace said, at the same time that Simon said, “We’re not actually together. We’re just pretending.”

“They’re planning to try to convince their families they’re dating even though they’re not,” Maia explained. “Because they apparently think that’s not just a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Oh,” Lily said, sounding oddly disappointed.

“Fifty bucks,” Bat announced, “says that when this blows up in their faces, Jace is the first one to break down and call Maia in a panic.”

“Hey,” Jace protested.

“Oh, you’re on,” Maureen said, ignoring Jace entirely. “Sorry, Simon, but no one panics quite like you.”

“I’m in,” Lily said, “and I agree with Maureen that Simon will break first, but his call to Maia will be interrupted by Jace calling five minutes later.”

“Why am I the one getting all of the panicked calls?” Maia wanted to know.

“Because you’re the only person at this table who isn’t an asshole,” Simon told her, “but nothing’s going to go wrong, let alone panic-inducing levels of wrong, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Dude,” Jace said, “she’s an asshole to me.”

“You like it,” Maia and Simon said in unison, causing the rest of the table to collapse into laughter.

“Okay, fine,” Maia said around her giggles several minutes later, “if you’re all betting, then count me in, too. I bet that these fools,” she looked pointedly at Jace, then at Simon, “don’t call me when this whole thing goes to hell, but I somehow end up having to haul their asses out of trouble, anyway.”

“I rescind my assessment of you as not an asshole,” Simon told her.

“I’d think twice about calling the woman who’s going to haul your ass out of trouble an asshole if I were you,” Bat said.

“Back to this pretending to be together thing,” Lily said. “What exactly does that entail?”

“That’s actually what we were trying to figure out when you guys showed up,” Simon told her. “We started a list of rules, but we only made it to four so far.”

“Your list should definitely include making out,” Lily said decisively. “Having made out with both of you, I can say with confidence that you’re definitely missing out if you don’t. In fact, you should try it now so we can let you know if it looks authentic.”

“You just want to watch them make out,” Maureen said.

“Yes,” Lily told her. She didn’t add ‘duh,’ but it was implied. “I always want to make hot people make out. But in this case, I’m also being helpful.”

The ensuing argument over the line between helpful and self-serving was thankfully cut short by the opening guitar line of Blonde Redhead’s Barragan.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this,” Simon said, holding up his phone. “I’ve been playing voicemail tag with Becky all week.” He looked at Jace. “Talk more about this later?”

“Sure,” Jace told him.

“Tell your sister I said hi,” Maia called after Simon as he headed away from the cafe’s crowd.

“You know,” Jace told her in a low voice, “you could always tell her hi yourself instead of always asking Simon to pass messages.”

Maia gave him an unimpressed look. “After everything I just heard, I’m pretty sure you’re the last person in this room I should be taking relationship advice from.”

“Bite me,” Jace told her, but he didn’t disagree.

[canarypoint]

Legends of Y/N Lance - Chapter 1: Pilot

Warning(s): cursing, mentions of death, little bit of violence, very, very slight mention of sex

A/N: oh...looks like this is actually happening, huh? for those of you waiting for me to post the requests from the other day/night/something, i’m working on them! i just have the attention span of a goldfish. should i make a taglist or whatever it’s called for the series?

A/N #2: a lot of the dialogue was taken directly from the corresponding episode of Arrow (1x01 “Pilot”), all rights to it go to the respective owners or whatever pleasetellmei’mnotgonnagetintroubleforusingitbecauseyesthat’sageniunefearihavelol. i also highly recommend rewatching (or just watching- tho, if you haven’t seen Arrow yet, i highly recommend just watching the entire Arrowverse before reading this...) the episode first.

Click here for the series summary.

Click here for the previous chapter (Chapter 0: What’s Past is Prologue).

Click here for the series masterlist.

The TV plays the all-too-familiar ‘Breaking News’ sound, alerting you of just that. The first thing you notice is the big ‘LOST BILLIONAIRE FOUND’ heading at the bottom of the screen. Your heart drops when the man begins speaking.

“Oliver Queen is alive. The Starling City resident was found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago,” you flinch when it shows a picture of the man in question. “Five years after he was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed The Queen’s Gambit.”

You let out a harsh sigh as the news continues its report.

“Queen was a regular tabloid presence and a fixture at the Starling City club scene. Shortly before his disappearance, he was acquitted of assault charges stemming from a highly publicized drunken altercation with paparazzi.”

You roll your eyes at the clip of said altercation.

“Queen is also the son of Starling City billionaire Robert Queen who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased.”

“Turn it off,” your oldest sister, Laurel, tells you. You quickly pick up the remote and hit the power button without question. If it’s this hard for you, you can’t even imagine how hard it is for the playboy’s ex-girlfriend.

•••

“Come on, Laurel. We’re lawyers, not miracle workers. We can’t win this,” Joanna pleads.

You scoff from Laurel’s desk as she shoots back with, “If we can’t win a class-action suit against a man who swindled hundreds of people out of their homes and life savings then we’re not fit to call ourselves a legal aid office.”

“And if we go bankrupt in the process we won’t be a legal aid office. Hunt has an army of lawyers and they’re ready to bury us.”

“You and I against an army. I love those odds.”

“Why do you hate me?”

You laugh as Laurel shoos you off her chair.

“L, you said you were gonna-” you’re cut-off by the TV.

“And in other news, as to the castaway story you’ve all heard about. The son of a very wealthy billionaire will soon become a legendary story. Jessica now has more details and the complete castaway story.”

As Laurel stands up, you unconsciously move closer to her.

“The Queen’s Gambit was last heard from more than five years ago.” Laurel begins to walk closer to where everyone else in CNRI is gathered around the television.

“Laurel, where-” you question, starting to follow her.

“Mr. Queen has reportedly confirmed he was the only survivor of the accident-” a single tear rolls down your face, one of the thousands already shed, “-that took the lives of seven people including local resident Sara Lance. Survived by her sister, Laurel-”

Laurel shuts the TV off, earning the attention of her colleagues and coworkers.

•••

Freshman year of high school is hard enough, but whatever ominous deity is out there - whether it be a god, the universe, or some fifth-dimensional imp - is clearly out to get you.

Everyone - literally everyone; students, teachers, staff, even the fucking janitor - is talking about Oliver Queen and his great return! And, because said hypothetical ominous deity is clearly some sort of sadist, everyone is also talking about Sara and how “unfortunate” her death was.

“Yo, Lance,” some upperclassman calls. You look at him, a remark about your cop father and attorney sister already on the tip of your tongue.

“Yeah?” you ask. You’re already bored with this conversation, not to mention pissed beyond comprehension.

“I dunno why everyone’s feeling so sorry for you,” he starts. “She was kinda asking for it, especially since she was helping Queen cheat on your sister. That bi-”

The more he talks, the more you see red until you finally can’t take it anymore. Without thinking, you slip your backpack off of your shoulders and onto the floor in one swift motion. You know people are already watching you, they have been since Oliver’s return, but despite the however-many eyes watching, no one is quick enough to realize what you’re doing until it’s too late. You quickly deck the junior in the face.

His hands go straight to his face as he exclaims, “You broke my nose, you fucking bitch!”

Ms. Sandsmark quickly runs out of her classroom. The students gathered around you clear a path for her, some already turning and walking to their next classes.

“Miss Lance, Mr. Armorr, principal’s office. Now.”

•••

Laurel turns her head to look at you, a not-so-happy look on her face, “Shouldn’t you be in school, Y/N/N?”

“Nah… I kinda got suspended… Dad said I have to either stay with him at the precinct or with you,” you pick up a random file as you talk, scanning over it.

Your sister pulls it out of your hands, glaring at you as if to say ‘do it again, and you’ll lose a hand.’

“What’d you do this time,” she sighs.

You look down, a small frown taking over, “Someone said something about Sara and I snapped…” you whisper.

Laurel takes a deep breath before pulling you into a hug. You’re not really sure why she says it, or why you react the way you do, but you struggle to hold back a cry as she says, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment Laurel releases you and goes back to picking up her case files as Joanna approaches.

“Laurel, I just got this from Hunt’s lawyers,” Joanna hands Laurel another file. “They filed a change of venue. We are now in front of Judge Grell.”

You walk behind them, barely paying attention to what they’re saying as you respond to a text from a friend.

“Hunt funded Grell’s reelection campaign,” Laurel adds. Joanna hums in sarcastic agreement. “He’s got Grell in his back pocket.”

Joanna wraps her arm around Laurel, “You know, it’s fun being your friend. I get to say I told you so a lot.”

You can’t help but laugh as Laurel rebuts, “No. Adam Hunt is not smarter than we are.”

“No, he’s just richer and willing to commit multiple felonies.”

Laurel stops and turns around, pointing at Joanna. “We don’t need to go outside the law-”

“To find justice. Your dad’s favorite jingle.” Laurel winks at you as Joanna finishes for her.

You, once again, roll your eyes at the two. Before you can interject with your own statement, you and Laurel freeze as you see what- who is in front of the bulletin board.

“Hello, Laurel. Speartip,” Oliver says. You let out a nervous laugh - though it’s more of just a puff of air - at the nickname. You give him a twitch of a half-smile as your eyebrows furrow in concern for your sister (or Oliver, since you’re not sure if she’s gonna run, yell at him, or straight-up punch him in the face).

She catches you by surprise as she calmly states, “Jo, watch Y/N. Oliver and I need to talk,” without looking away from the former castaway.

“Wait, Laurel-” you cut yourself off, just barely avoiding Joanna as she tries to stop you from following the former couple.

“Thomas!” you yell in surprise as you all approach CNRI’s exit. You hear Joanna sigh from behind you as Laurel and Oliver give you confused looks. Tommy rolls his eyes.

“What’d I say about calling me that, Speartip?” he responds, unphased by your reaction to seeing him.

•••

“How’d you think that was gonna go, Tommy?” Laurel questions. You have to hide a grin at her attitude towards the playboy.

“‘Bout like that,” he responds as she briskly passes him.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Laurel orders as you hop off the railing.

•••

“Are you sure you wanna go, L?” you ask, handing your sister her bag as she walks by.

“Tommy asked me to go. I’m not gonna let the problems I have with Oliver get in the way of Tommy and I being friends.”

“Well… can I come?” You jump over the back of the couch, landing next to Laurel. “According to every social media account Thea has, she’s-”

“Thea is the youngest member of one of the richest families in Starling, you are the daughter of a cop and the sister of a defense attorney. Thea may be able to get away with breaking the law, but you certainly aren’t.”

•••

“If hypothetically, fifty-thousand dollars magically appear in your bank account, it might be best for you not to speak about it… to anyone, ever,” Laurel laughs at whatever the person on the other end says as your eyes widen. Joanna walks up to Laurel’s desk as Laurel says, “God bless you, too,” before hanging up.

“I just got a very grateful phone call from one of our clients against Adam Hunt.”

“Me, too.”

They both laugh before Joanna adds, “It looks like Starling City has a guardian angel.”

You look around as phones begin ringing from all around CNRI.

“By the way, your cute friend’s here.” With that, Joanna walks away. Laurel turns and stands up to see none other than Tommy Merlyn. You roll your eyes at his boyish grin.

•••

“You left the party pretty quick last night, even after I made sure the bar was stocked with pinot noir,” Tommy starts. You’re left to walk behind him and your sister as they talk.

“It wasn’t really my scene.”

“I thought maybe you and Oliver went mano a mano again.” You not-so-subtly cough, reminding them of your presence. You don’t need to hear about your sister’s sex life, even if it’s just Tommy jumping to conclusions, per usual.

They both stop to look back at you, Tommy sticks his tongue out as Laurel rolls her eyes.

“I saw you two head out,” Tommy adds as they continue walking.

“There’s nothing between Oliver and I, not anymore.”

“And here I thought the only thing between you and Oliver was us.”

“I wouldn’t exactly characterize us as an us, Tommy.”

Tommy quickly gets ahead of Laurel, forcing her to stop. You stay a few feet away from them, not wanting to interrupt whatever… this is.

“Then what would you call it?”

“A lapse.”

“That’s quite a few lapses,” you glare at Tommy. “Your place, my place, my place again.”

“Oh, I feel sick…” you mumble, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut it, Y/N,” Laurel teases. “Oh, come on, Merlyn. We both know that you’re not a one-girl type of guy.”

“Depends on the girl,” is Tommy’s attempt at a smooth response.

“Three things: one, I’m still here. Two, Laurel has a point. And three, real smooth Thomas, real smooth. Oh, and have I mentioned that I’m still here?”

“Nice try, Speartip. That was four things,” Tommy responds with a laugh.

“Oh look, the rich-boy can count below ten-thousand, astonishing! Plus, the last part was a continuation of my first point, so no. It wasn’t four things, you’re just dumb.”

“I have to go back to work,” Laurel says she turns around, grabbing your arm in the process.

“Dinah Laurel Lance,” Tommy starts. “Always trying to save the world.”

Laurel turns around once more, “Hey, if I don’t try and save it, who will?”

You smile proudly as you follow Laurel back to CNRI.

•••

A/N #3: oh, anyone recognize the name of the teacher and the student? and yeah i know it doesn’t entirely make sense to include that last scene, but like... you can’t have a story about the Lances without including “Dinah Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world,” now can you?

[soldieronbarnes]

Yay for little fic prompts!! Can you do a Malec human au one where they knew each other back in like High school, and one of them is a famous singer/actor and this happens? “you’re famous and just got asked if you were ever in love this should be good– WAIT WHAT” Thanks!!

“Can you turn that off?”, Alec asks, annoyed. On the radio, an uncomfortably familiar voice is crooning on and on about missed opportunities and what-ifs. It’s a good song, he can admit that much, for anyone not prone to getting sucked into unfortunate spirals of treacherous, futile daydreams of things that might have been different if only he’d been braver, once upon a time. 

He tries to slap her hand away, but Izzy won’t budge. Instead, she turns up the volume.

“What happened to our ‘the driver picks the music’ rule?”

Izzy pretends to be blissfully unaware of his bad temper. “Doesn’t apply when it’s good music from one of your former classmates.”

“Not my classmate,” Alec points out, fingers clenching on the steering wheel. 

Izzy shrugs. “Close enough. How often to people from our school get famous?Especially people in our age range? I mean, you shared a couple of classes, he was only grade above you, so don’t pretend to be all high and mighty about this.”

Alec sighs and resigns himself to his fate. In the passenger seat, Izzy sings along at the top of her lungs, as if she knows what it feels like, to love someone and not be able to connect to them, to be with them the way you want to. As if that’s ever happened to her, as if anyone ever turned her down or broke her heart. Usually she was the one responsible for other people’s heartbreak.

Maybe he’s just bitter because for him, the song hits painfully close to home. 

Finally, mercifully, the songs fades out and is replaced by the grating voice of the radio host. “Wow, what a rollercoaster this song was! That was Symptoms by everybody’s sweetheart and all around mega-star Magnus Bane, the brand new single taken from his new album Lose Your Breath, who is here with me, in this studio right. now! Magnus, it’s a pleasure to have you here.”

“Pleasure to be here.”

His voice is just as smooth and melodious as Alec remembers. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s back in some dingy basement, watching the party around him, his siblings having fun, Magnus whispering in his ear. He exhales shakily, his fingers clenching around the steering wheel.

“Seriously, can we put on some good music now?” he asks.

Izzy, of course, ignores him. “Shut up. I wanna hear what he’s saying.”

“He’s not writing songs about you, you know that, right?”

“Shhh!!!”

“Now, Magnus, this album as a whole is a lot more introspective than your previous work, and this song in particular has a kind of…melancholy feel to it. Do you wanna walk us through the process of writing it, and what it is about?”

Don’t, Alec thinks, wildly. Please, don’t. Just - 

“Sure,” Magnus replies. He sounds mostly cheerful, but there is a note of hesitation in his voice that makes Alec’s heart clench. 

It’s stupid, he knows this. They weren’t ever - anything. There wasn’t ever any chance of them being anything. This song isn’t about him. Magnus probably left High School and never thought of him again, wouldn’t even remember his name is someone asked him about him. This song is about Camille, or Imasu, or Etta, or any of the other people who lusted after him. Alec doesn’t get songs written about him. 

He just likes to pretend he does, because, as Izzy and Jace tell him frequently, he’s a bit of a masochist. 

Well,maybe this interview will dispel of his silly notions once and for all. Magnus will confirm what he already knows to be true - it’s about Camille,Magnus’ on-and-off-and-on-again girlfriend since Junior Year - and Alec can stop torturing himself. Finally move on, and look at other boys with the same kind of longing that’s still reserved for Magnus, even six years later. 

“I - actually, I started writing this song quite a while ago, it just never seemed to work, “ Magnus says with a self-deprecating laugh. 

“How long ago?”

“Oh, I was fresh out of High School and - well, as is obvious when you pay attention to the lyrics - pining after someone I’d lost my window of opportunity with.”

“Ohhh, so this is was a High School romance?” The interviewer seems delighted.

Another pained laugh. “I….don’t think you can call it a romance when it never took off,” Magnus replies. 

The interviewer gasps, over-exaggerated and fake. “But who would ever refuse you?”

“Well, as far-fetched as it seems, it happens quite often. And - well, I can’t blame him. Sometimes circumstances just work against you.”

“Him?” The interviewer sounds, Alec muses, like a big cat that was just presented with a particularly juicy and big piece of fresh meat. As if it’s not common knowledge that Magnus Bane is bi, has always been bi, will always be bi.

Magnus clears his throat. “Yes.”

“Tell us more!”

Alec can almost hear Magnus’ shrug. He’s clearly uncomfortable now, and Alec tries to ignore the white-hot flair of protectiveness surging through him. “There’s not much to tell. He was a bit younger than me - not in my grade - and well, between a …let’s say conservative upbringing and the general school policy on anything even slightly straying from the norm, he was…not out. It never went anywhere.”

“Alec?”, Izzy asks, suddenly concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaks.

He’s not okay. He can’t breathe.

“But this was six years ago. Why bring it up now? Surely that’s ancient history?” the interviewer asks.

“Not to me,” Magnus says. “I loved him. And  - you know how sometimes, you meet a person and you just….you just know?” 

“Like love at first sight?”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” Magnus says. “But - potential, yes. Sometimes you meet someone and you just know that they’re going to be important to you. That even if you don’t love them yet, it’s inevitable that you will. And it doesn’t matter how much time passes, these people - you can’t just purge them from your mind. They’ll always own a piece of your soul.” Magnus sighs. “I suppose I should live more in the present than in the past but - well. Sometimes your mind just can’t stop going over the what-ifs and might-have-beens. I think everybody feels that way sometimes.”

“Alec,” Izzy says, her voice clipped, urgent. “Pull over.”

“I’m fine.”

“You shaking and - hyperventilating - just - pull over!”

He does. Izzy rubs her hand between his shoulderblades in soothing circles, muttering nonsense, until he stops gasping on every single intake of breath, and for a long time after that.

“You need to tell him,” she says, her face uncharacteristically serious, into the silence that follows his kind- of panic attack. 

“Right.” Alec scoffs. “Let me just get out the phone number of world-famous rock star Magnus Bane, which I obviously have on speed dial, and say, hey, remember when I broke your fucking heart into a million tiny pieces, wanna catch up with this trainwreck of a person I am now?”

“Alec, that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” Alec says, swallowing down the bitterness on his tongue. “It’s way in the past, and even if I could contact him, which I can’t - he wouldn’t want to hear from me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He doesn’t like the determined look on her face one bit. 

“Izzy what are you -” he asks as she pulls out her phone, quickly dialing a number. 

“We’re still here with Magnus Bane, ready to answer your questions,” the interviewer announces cheerfully.

Alec blanches. “Izzy, no -”

Even from the distance, he hears the call connect. He makes a strangled sound and lunges for the phone, but Izzy his too fast for him, evading his grabbing hands easily. 

“Hello, this is Izzy.”

“Hello, Izzy,” Magnus says, all pleasant and polite. “What do you want to know?”

“I just wanted to let you know I love your music. But - I don’t have a question. Sorry, I don’t think I’m the person you want to talk to.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I think you should talk to my brother Alec,” she says, putting the call on speaker.

“Izzy, stop, don’t -” he squeaks.

His voice is played back at him through the speakers, and Alec wants to die.

There’s a moment of heavy silence and then -

“Alexander?” Magnus asks. He sounds cautious and almost- hopeful?

“I - yeah.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

“Hi,” Magnus breathes and he sounds - overwhelmed, and joyous, and Alec can’t help but smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi - no, I said that already.”

He’s making charming, suave, confident Magnus Bane stammer on live radio. What the hell is going on?

He didn’t think they’d ever speak again. He didn’t think it would feel like this, like his whole world is tilting on its axis until it’s right side up again. He didn’t think his heart would ache like this, wanting to be known, wanting to never be let go again. 

“I - I didn’t think I’d ever find you again,” Magnus says quietly.

“I wasn’t sure I’d want to be found,” Alec admits, his throat suddenly dry. How much pain has he caused Magnus, has he caused both of them?

“Do you -” Magnus starts, “do you want to be found now?”

Next to him, Izzy is flipping out. The interviewer is screeching in the background. None of it matters.

“Yeah,” he says, voice rough and trembling with nerves. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Yeah?” Magnus’s exhales with shaky breath,

“You’re not the only one with regrets.” 

“That’s- “ Magnus laughs wetly. “I was going to say that’s good, but  that’s not true. Just - just don’t go anywhere, okay?”

“I won’t,” Alec promises. “Not this time.”

[akaashisupremacy]

Chapter 3: Chasing Springtime (Autumn)

 Tsukki x fem!reader/Oc

Genre: romance, fluff, lil bit of angst, (wc: 9967 yall I got carried away)

Summary: Kei Tsukishima, now in college is reacquainting himself with a childhood friend. Old feelings that he has long shoved aside resurface as they deal into new territory. 

Notes: Kaori Miyahara is an original character, but readers are free to put themselves into her shoes! There will be more chapters to come and let me know if you have any feedback or if you want to be in the taglist.

Also I’m new here so if you wanna be friends I’m down huhu

Chap. 1 (A03) || Chap. 2 (A03)  || Chap. 3 (A03) 

Summer (2014) || Ishi Acupuncture Clinic || Sendai City || 2:00 PM

Miyahara Kaori breathed out a sigh of relief after her doctor took out the last ventosa cup from her back. She was given some time off to rest and go to rehab. Unfortunately, her mom had taken the opportunity to book her an appointment with an acupuncturist to help with her sore back. After worrying about the appointment for days, she could finally set her mind to something else.

Tsukishima Kei was seated on the bench in the reception area reading a magazine. He sat mildly hunched over having not yet fully grown into his height. Even when he was seated, he still looked incredibly tall. Kaori had forgotten his exact height, but he was about to hit six feet for someone who was only 14 going on 15. He was waiting for Kaori, his neighbor and friend who constantly dragged him out to join her adventures in the city. The two were set to go to the library today. She had always been jus a friend, but sometimes he couldn't help but feel they were on a date when they hung out just the two of them. They were in their Third Year in Junior High.

Tsukki looked up from his magazine to find Kaori dressed in a red and white striped top and khaki shorts. It wasn’t often he saw her out of her athletic wear or school uniform. Seeing her a little more dressed up than usual made his heart skip a beat.

“How was the session?” he asked, putting the magazine back into its place.

“Still not a fan of needles,” she sniffed, stretching her back a bit.

“Let’s get out of here.” she shuddered, nudging him towards the door.

Tsukki led Kaori as they navigated through the streets on their way to the library. He normally never ventured into the city just for a library considering there were a few district libraries closer to their neighborhood, but Kaori had run out of books she was interested in and asked him to bring her to the bigger city library.

“Can I please just draw you a map from the clinic or something?” he sulked.

“You labelled the streets wrong last time. You skipped a street and moved an entire’s district worth of streets into the wrong direction!” she frowned, crossing her arms.

“The street names got cut so I had to write them myself, ok? I already said I was sorry.” he said, exasperated at her attempt to use him as a tour guide again. Kaori would often ask her friends to bring her to unfamiliar places she wanted to explore, but she asked him the most often because he lived closest to her.

To begin with, Kaori was not great at reading maps and he was equally terrible at making or even just printing them. Something was almost always missing or wrong, so he often brought her to places she asked in concession of getting her lost. Tsukki sighed deeply and grudgingly agreed.

The city library was in view. They could see its large rectangular architecture and its imposing glass windows from where they stood. The building looked daunting, but as they walked closer, they could see the comfortable couches and chairs scattered around its interior. A sense of excitement brewed inside of them.

“Kaori, why don’t you just buy the books?” he asked, turning to her. Her family was relatively well-off and her parents were well-read. Surely they see the value of keeping books in their home? He thought about his own book collection at home and how convenient it was.

“We moved around a lot,” she explained, “My mom said it was impractical to buy lots of books when I could just borrow them. Saves us the trouble of having to ship and store them.”

“But when I get my own house, a house where I don’t ever have to move away from again I want my own book shelf that I can fill with my books and trinkets - a place where I can keep books for years and still be able to read the same one.” she beamed. Kaori was so excited at the sight of the building she was almost skipping.

“Having my own bookshelf is pretty great,” he agreed. He liked having his own collection.

Tsukki was struck by the realization that Kaori never had a permanent home and that she actually longed for one. He made a mental note. One day when she finally had her own place, he would save up and get her a bookshelf as a housewarming gift, so that she too could experience the joy of collecting her own books.

As they approached the library steps, a boy in a bicycle rushed past them barely missing Kaori on his way. Kaori stumbled, almost falling out of balance. She hit Tsukki’s shoulder as she got back onto her own feet.

The weight of her shoulder pressed against his arm sent his heart on a rollercoaster and the hairs on his arm stand. Lately he had been feeling awkward and jittery around her and it amplified when she touched him in any capacity. He didn’t know where the feeling came from and he really wished it would stop.

“That was rude,” she huffed, brushing things off.

“Super reckless,” he added, glaring at the boy’s direction and hoping Kaori couldn’t hear how loud his heart was beating.

While Kaori signed up for a library card, Tsukki found a four-seater table that they could share. He waved to Kaori as she wandered into the library holding her new card. She waved back as soon as she saw him and put her things down. He placed his things on the seat of the table near the glass windows while she placed her bag opposite to him.

Tsukki decided to pull out some books on dinosaurs. Kaori headed to the section of English books, but instead she came back with a book on Aichi, Nagoya.

“I got carried away reading it,” she confessed, taking her seat. “Look at those flowers and endless fields. Doesn’t it look amazing for a spring vacation? I could paint there all day!”  

She pointed at the pictures, shoving the book in his face. Tsukki stood up and sat beside her. Kaori’s arms could barely reach him because of the table between them. He pulled up the chair where her bag was and sat beside her.

“I thought you hated being in the thicket.” he whispered, giving her the side-eye, “You make fun for our neighborhood for being a forest under the mountain. This isn’t a city at all!”

“Clearly Aichi is not just a thicket. It’s a pretty thicket with more interesting plant life especially during spring.” she argued, pointing towards a field of yellow flowers.

Tsukki peered over the book to have a closer look at the picture. He became conscious of how close his face was to hers. He could feel her breath at the side of his face and the weight of her gaze on the book. His nose almost touched her cheek. His cheeks warmed the longer he stayed so close to her. He quickly backed away when he realized his cheeks were hot. If Kaori had turned to look at him at that moment, he just knew he would melt in embarrassment.

“Spring is done this year, so maybe you can go next year.” he shrugged, walking back to his seat.

“I’m not in a rush to visit Aichi. I could be when I’m an adult. I just hope to be able to visit someday. My gymnastics schedule is still tight right now. Maybe when I retire.” she said, flipping through the book.

Kaori eventually found her way to the section with English books. She pulled out around ten and narrowed down the five she wanted to borrow. Because Kaori spent some time abroad, her English was better than most local students. Her mother encouraged her to begin reading books in English a year before they began living abroad so that Kaori would be able to read signs and other things by the time they moved. Tsukki borrowed a couple of books on world history that were not among his collection. He liked history, but not enough to buy much books on the topic.

After their trip to the library, they stopped by the convenience store for some snacks. Kaori bought two mini-cartons of croquettes and gave half to Tsukki. The croquette was still warm and its juices flowed when Kaori sank her teeth in. Sometimes she bought Tsukki food to make up for having dragged him into her adventures. That and she wanted to make sure he was eating. Tsukki didn’t have much of an appetite.

They ate as they walked. Neither one of them talked as they walked side by side. The sun began turning orange when they finally reached the station.

When they entered the station, Kaori lost herself in the crowd. Her eyes were searching for which platform to head to when she realized Tsukki was gone. He would know where to go. It was probably the first platform on the right, but he would confirm it for her. She liked to be better than him in many things except for directions. He could be better at that.

She walked deeper into the station where everyone was heading to before they separated into their respective platforms. Kaori made sure to keep pace so as not to bump into anyone.

Tsukki was a human giraffe. He would not be difficult to find. Sure enough she found a tall, relatively slim boy looking left and right beside the ticketing booths, frantically adjusting his glasses. She placed a hand on his elbow. He jolted back to look at her.

“There you are!” she said calmly.

Tsukki sighed in relief. He felt like the past few minutes had made him sweat, in part because the station was warm but also because he thought  Kaori was lost.

“You should walk slower next time. You take really long strides.” she said, pushing him in the direction of the first platform. He looked slightly shaken. Tsukki slowly relaxed and let her walk in front of him. His eyes on her this time. He was so relieved to find her he didn’t retort.

The train they got in was not extremely packed, but wasn’t empty either. All the seats were taken and the two of them stood for the trip home. Kaori picked a spot near the door where she could lean back and read her book. Tsukki stood opposite her. His arms were crossed and his headphones were on.

Kaori felt the gentle shuttling of the train as she lightly bounced against the acrylic stands of the seats. The rhythm calmed her down. She became quickly absorbed with the book in her hand. The rest of her borrowed loot was in a paper bag between her feet. Trains were nice. She wished she could ride them every day to school if they were actually in her route.

Tsukki found it difficult not to be absorbed by Kaori. Her hair had turned into a warm shade of brown and her skin was illuminated by sunset.  He cocked his head to quickly look at her. He wanted to lean forward and stand closer to her, but he was shy and she probably didn’t like him that way, so he stood where he was. He turned to look outside the window and occasionally sneak glances at her through his lashes.

When they got to their home station, Kaori darted for their bikes parked just outside. She dropped her books into her bike’s basket and sighed.

“My back feels really heavy after the acupuncture session.” she stretched a bit bending backwards until she looked like a table. Tsukki felt like his back would snap in half if he tried that stretch.

He followed behind her and placed his books on his basket. They carefully pulled out their bikes and prepared to head back home.

“Probably didn’t help that you borrowed so many books too,” he said, bringing out his own bike from the thicket of bikes.

“My back will get over itself tomorrow anyways,” she said defensively brushing him off.

Tsukki didn’t feel like going home just yet. He wanted to stretch the day just a little longer. The sun was still out albeit setting and there was still time before dinner.

“Let’s drop by the convenience store. I want some popsicles.” he said.

They biked towards the nearest store and Tsukki came out with two popsicles. He handed one to Kaori. They stood with their bikes at the parking of the store. They ate in silence.

“Our Junior High team is having a game sometime in October. You should come. Yamaguchi will be playing too.” he said awkwardly attempting to fill the stillness.

“I’ll go if I don’t have to be competing that weekend.” she promised, licking her popsicle. Kaori liked watching competitions, especially if she was not the one competing.

“When are your fall competitions?” he asked, “Has the Federation said anything? Assignments for the grand prix circuit should be out by now.

“I don’t know the exact dates, but Coach did already announce them. I don’t want to think about them until I actually have to.” she shrugged her shoulders, “It’s summer, I don’t want to think about competing, I just want to have fun!”

Kaori had been thinking about her career next to Tsukki’s. She was competing in the elite level. Aside from finally competing as a senior, there was no place higher for her to go. Gymnasts typically peaked quite early with most women retiring in their twenties or even in their teens.

Tsukki meanwhile was playing at the Junior High level. Currently, he is just starting out on his volleyball career. He had a long way to go before he reached his peak because his sport depended on height, power and experience in contrast to hers which placed a bigger emphasis on smaller body frames.  

“Do you think you’ll play professionally one day?” she asked, “Like in a big gym with crowds cheering after High School?” she asked.

Tsukki is competing on a Junior High level, but one day she imagined him in a professional team playing in center court with posters of his team all over the venue. People would know him by name and know his stats by heart. She wasn’t exactly sure if he could make it to the top tier of the professional division, but playing professionally seemed possible.

“I’m not sure I’m good enough. Who knows? Maybe I’ll quit after High School, maybe I won’t.” he shrugged. He didn’t particularly like volleyball. It was mostly just a club activity he picked up because his brother also played.

“But if you do though…” she trailed.

“Then your first tickets are on me.” he scoffed, biting off the last piece of popsicle from the stick. He doubted he would be good enough.  

“Would you sign it too?” she asked eagerly. When Kaori had the chance to attend international senior events for rhythmic gymnastics, she would ask her idols to sign her program guide or her notebook. She thought it would be cool if they signed her ticket, but she attended these events with a pass (as a fellow athlete) and not a ticket.

“If I really made it to a pro-league, sure. But I’d have to make it in first,” he said skeptically, getting ready to get back onto his bike. A professional career was so far off.

Kaori got on her bike, “Tsukishima, hear me out. I think you could make it. You’re tall and competitive. You have good game sense. You need more training, strength and stamina, but that will come in time. If you get good coaching and more fired up about winning, you will probably get scouted.” She spoke with such confidence. He was dazed by how certain she sounded.

Tsukki turned to her puzzled, “Developing more strength and faster reflexes is an issue I’m kind of dealing with right now. How would you know if I will be scouted? I’m not a stand out player or anything. Don’t be patronizing.”

Kaori tutted with her hands on her hips, “I’m on the Junior National Team remember? That’s right Miyahara Kaori of Team Japan. I know a thing or two about being scouted. I wasn’t a stand out gymnast either but I made it. It’s about working on your weaknesses and building on your strengths. Don’t worry about those Junior High prefectural awards. Not everyone stands out when they’re young. In fact that’s the most recognition some of them will ever get. Make your move in High School.”

They started biking homewards. Tsukki was a little astounded and grateful by Kaori’s belief in him. Could he really make it as a pro-player?

The route back home was nearly empty. They could bike freely on the lanes. Tsukki rode near Kaori, attempting to push her off the bike by poking her. He would ride near her then move away when she started to attack. Kaori fought back by trying to push him off his bike with a book. Although he had a clear advantage because of his long arm Kaori was persistent and quick. She tried to surprise him when she could.

They sparred back and forth until their fingers touched. A buzz of electricity shot through his veins. He tried to remember what it was like to touch her finger. He only remembered the pressure of her finger on his.

Kaori quickly jabbed him on the side and rode off on her own while he was distracted. She stopped at the intersection.

“Hey! That hurt.” he said winced, clutching his side. He pedalled faster to catch up to her. He lowered his eyelids and stared down at her.

“You started it!” she laughed and biked again. He biked to catch up with her.

Kaori was laughing as the wind carried her hair. Her laugh was music to his ears. He smiled to himself when she looked ahead. He was so helplessly crushing to her. He wished the day could extend itself so he could spend a little more time together. Their houses appeared within their view. Tsukki wished they had lived on the next street instead.

——————————————————————————————----

Fall (2018) || Sendai City Gymnasium || Sendai City || 2:00 PM

The Fukushima City Stadium was abuzz for today’s game. The Sendai Frogs, a Division 2 professional volleyball league, were playing a game against the hometown Fukushima Red Warriors. There were lines on the snack counters and people looking for their event’s program sheet. Former volleyball players were chatting in groups just outside the court and families were walking to and fro the hallway.  

Tadashi Yamaguchi headed into the court. He walked into the bleachers to find Kaori Miyahara already seated and browsing through the event profiles. Her hair was down and she was dressed in a denim jacket and a dress. He recognized her even though he could hardly see her face because she was covered by the book. He hardly remembered the last time he saw more than just a glance of her. It seemed so long ago.

Kaori looked mostly the same from her middle school self. She had always been poised and neat with a constant air of dignity about her but there was something different about her this time around. As he climbed the stairs, he felt it was strange to watch a volleyball game in the bleachers with her. It used to be that he was on the court and she was on the bleachers during volleyball games.

“Kaori! Hi…” he said, waving at her.

Kaori waved back and motioned to the empty seat beside her.

“How have you been?” he asked casually, seating himself beside her. He had bought snacks just before he entered the court and offered some onigiri to her. She politely declined.

“I just came off my physical therapy session and rushed here. Tsukki thought I might not make the game because of the travel, but here I am.” she smiled, “How have you been?”

Kaori Miyahara, Tadashi Yamaguchi and Kei Tsukishima went to the same Junior High and High School up until Kaori transferred out during her first year second semester. They were even in the same class in Junior High. Yamaguchi was Tsukishima’s (or Tsukki as they both called him) best friend and volleyball teammate while Kaori was Tsukki’s next door neighbor. She used to attend their games and they did their best to cheer her on in her gymnastics competitions.

“I’m doing well. It’s been a while. Feels a bit strange that we’re on the same side of the bleachers now too.” he nodded.

In the somewhat distant past of Junior High, Kaori would gather up their other classmates who attended their games and turn them into a mini-cheer squad. He still remembered her voice ringing through the court when they scored a point.

“If this feels really strange, maybe you and Tsukki should catch one of my competitions so it will be just like Junior High.” she joked.

Yamaguchi laughed. He remembered afternoons in the local gym when Kaori used to compete in local competitions to warm up for her pre-season. There were not that many competitors from the prefecture and the bleachers were hardly packed, but Kaori always participated to test her routines under competition pressure. It would be one of the few chances for her friends to see her too considering at that time she either competed away from the prefecture or internationally. Tsukki would make him go so that he didn’t attend alone.

Kaori would typically medal on most of her apparatuses and Yamaguchi would cheer with her other friends from school. Tsukki would religiously clap just because he didn’t really cheer.

“We really should. Tsukki’s schedule is always busy with practice, but we really should make time. You mostly compete within the area now, it's a poor excuse not to go.” he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah and Tsukki would complain about going just like old times!” she laughed, remembering many a walk to school where she was coming up for reasons for him to go.

“He would pretend to complain, but he always went.” said Yamaguchi with a knowing smile.

Kaori couldn’t help but grin. It was true. She would invite him and he would grudgingly agree to go, but he never failed to show up, noisemakers and program guide in hand. Just before the court started filling with people, Yamaguchi suggested they move down to the lower seats to get a better view of the game.

They made their way down and chose seats at the visiting team’s side towards the side of the net. Tsukki was the type that didn’t invite people to his games because he felt it added pressure to an already high stakes event. His friends and family often disregarded and went anyway.

The players began warming up. They appeared on the court and some fans cheered the name of individual players. Somewhere behind them, someone yelled “Tsukishima!”

“They look like they’re probably from the university. I can’t believe they travelled here for this.” said Kaori banging her noisemaker, a little surprised ”I didn’t know he had gotten so popular during our time apart.”

Kaori hadn’t watched his games for years. This was Tsukki’s first game of the season. Although technically he was in his second year as a professional player. This was Kaori’s first game since they reconnected towards the end of winter term earlier on this year.

“After we qualified for our first prefectural finals for volleyball, girls started coming up to me to ask about Tsukki. He’s had a following since then.” explained Yamaguchi, turning to her.

“He’s not as good looking as Oikawa, how did that happen?” she asked in confusion. Tooru Oikawa was a player for another school in the prefecture. He was wildly popular among high school girls when they were freshmen for his looks, charm and skill. He almost always had fans waiting for him to arrive at the stadium during matches to give him gifts. He was the type to get fans, not stoic giants like Tsukki.

Yamaguchi chuckled, “I guess girls like tall boys and star players? I don’t really know either, they just said he looked cool.”

“I’ve always wondered if you ever get jealous when girls cheer for him on games.” he added hesitantly.  

“No, not really. Honestly he’s not really into this kind of attention either.” she said, shrugging with ease.

“I’m more interested in Tsukki as a player because he sets up mind games. He finds it fun to strategize. Watching him play is a great way to see how his mind works.” she explained.

Yamaguchi nodded. Kaori’s observations were true. Tsukki was an athlete that did not run on instinct. All his plays were distilled from his observations at court. Yamaguchi was a little jealous that his best friend had found someone who knew how he ticked as an athlete.

“You know when our team was doing in High School I kept thinking of how much you’d enjoy our games. We got really competitive with the top schools. Tsukki really honed his game sense during those years. You would’ve been very proud of him. He wouldn’t admit it, but I think he would have liked you to have seen his growth too.” he reminisced.

Yamaguchi remembered the time in Junior High when Tsukki let slip his crush towards Kaori. It was a week before their match and he had been too nervous to eat lunch.

“Tsukki! I’m so nervous for our game on Saturday I can barely eat lunch.” groaned Yamaguchi, sitting in front of his still wrapped lunch box.

“It’s just a Junior High game, you shouldn’t put so much time worrying about it.” he said, unwrapping his own lunch on his table.

Yamaguchi sighed and threw his head back.

“Is Kaori coming to watch? I think I’d be even more nervous if she brought some of our classmates to watch.” he sighed.

“She’s out competing right now but she said she’ll come to our game next week.” he said, smiling smugly to himself.

The smile did not go unnoticed.

“Tsukki, are you smiling?” asked Yamaguchi.

Tsukki quickly recoiled into a scowl, “No, why would I?”

Yamaguchi began teasing him, “Do you like her? You were definitely smiling!”

Tsukki’s eyes narrowed. He shooed Yamaguchi, “Shut up! That’s not true.” Even if it was kind of true. He continued to frown even though his cheeks were turning a light shade of pink.

“I fully support you!” encouraged Yamaguchi, “She’s a great athlete and she knows how to play volleyball. She’s smart and she’s funny too. Tsukki, she’s perfect for you.”

“If she’s so great, why don’t you ask her out then?” he retorted.

“Because like I said, she’s perfect for YOU.” nodded Yamaguchi with finality, “You should try asking her out before some other boys do.”

When Kaori moved away during High School, Tsukki was beyond crushed. He pretended like it didn’t bother him, but Yamaguchi knew that it was all just a facade.

“I am proud of him. I sometimes catch your games when they’re in Tokyo, you know? Or if there are replays online.” she said, “I’ve always believed in him. When I found out he had been signed onto the Sendai Frogs, I definitely called it.” She smiled. There was an unabashed affection and respect in the way she spoke about him.

“Ughhh, see this is why you’re perfect for him! I was hoping you guys would get together in High School before you moved away. In my mind, you were the perfect sports couple. It’s such a waste Tsukki didn’t make a move then,” sighed Yamaguchi.

“I don’t think he was ready then,” she chuckled, “Besides, I would have turned him down. I knew Tsukki had feelings for me, but I really didn’t feel the same way.”

Yamaguchi’s jaw dropped. He had always thought that she liked him back. The two of them always carved out time during the weekends for each other, not to mention they walked to school almost every day. Kaori put up her hands and waved it from side to side.

“We’re properly dating now though, so everything worked out in the end I guess.” she rambled.

“I guess it’s not completely surprising. Tsukki can be anti-social and thorny. He takes some being used to.” he acknowledged, “It can be difficult to get along with him, much less like him.”

“That’s rich coming from his best friend.” she snorted.

“It’s true though and you know it too.” he said, throwing up his hands.

Kaori reluctantly conceded that it was.

“Which I guess makes you dating him, a bigger mystery really…” he mumbled, his hand on his chin.

Kaori couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think I’ve told you that I’m only half Japanese. It may not mean much to you because you’ve known me for a long time now but when you’re a gymnast who starts vying for the national team, people question your spot because they view you as a foreigner. I wasn’t half white either so I wasn’t even a special kind of happa (term used to refer to half-Japanese people). I was just not Japanese enough to some people.

In fact I like that he never tells me how I should be or what to do. When it wasn’t my Japanese-ness people were questioning, it was the way I ate, the way I talked, it was always not feminine enough or too rough around the edges. Tsukki just expects me to be with me earnestly. He was never fazed by my ethnicity or my femininity.” she shrugged.

The referee’s whistle blew and signalled the captains to shake before the game. The players from the starting order were introduced. Tsukki was one of few in today’s starting line-up who was still in school. It provided Yamaguchi and Kaori a swell of pride to hear his name and jersey number announced.

When the players got into position just before the game started, Tsukki’s eyes wandered in the audience, stopping at the sight of Kaori. She smiled and made a small wave. She made it after all.

After the game ended, fans gathered around players to ask for pictures and autographs. They formed circles around the players, who were later shuffled off to booths for signing. Kaori and Yamaguchi took their time before leaving the stands.

“I usually just wait for people to finish their picture-taking sessions before I approach Tsukki. We’ll be able to talk more with him then.” he said.

“We should have a picture. The three of us! It will be like a class reunion.” she suggested brightly.

Kaori took out her ticket from her wallet and waved it. “I’m going to ask him to sign my ticket too.”

“What for?” he asked. The couple probably saw each other almost every day at school. Couldn’t she ask him to sign then?

“When we were in Junior High, I told him that he should sign my ticket for his first professional game. I mean, I’m like over a year late to his first actual game, but it’s still my first game.” she said.

Yamaguchi nodded in understanding, “When the line gets shorter, we should line up for autographs too! You have the ticket signed and I’ll have my program signed too.” He grinned with a twinkle in his eye.

“He’s going to hate it,” she grinned back, “But let’s do it!”

Yamaguchi and Kaori found the line for the autographs when it began waning. They patiently lined up and chatted until it was their turn (which was not long). Tsukki didn’t have as many fans as they thought he would.

“What are you doing here? I said I would meet with you guys later.” Tsukki looked a little confused and embarrassed. It never ceased to feel weird when people he knew were standing in line.

Yamaguchi peeked from behind Kaori, “We’re working towards an authentic experience for Kaori’s first game. She hasn’t been to any professional games here you know.”

Tsukki tried not to growl at him. He should have known Yamaguchi was going to try to pull this stunt again. Tsukki preferred to meet people he knew after his contractual obligations. Yamaguchi defied his request half the time.  Kaori held up her ticket and handed it to him.

“You said you would sign my first game ticket,” she reminded him.

Tsukki was confused for a moment before his eyes widened at the realization of his promise. He hadn’t taken the promise seriously at that time, but he supposed he still made it.

He pulled a clean piece of paper from under the table and made a makeshift envelope. While he wrote, he used the envelope to cover the ticket as if he was taking a quiz. After he was done, he placed the ticket in an envelope and gave it to her.

“You can read it when you get home.” he said.

Yamaguchi had him sign the program guide as usual.

After Tsukki was “released” as he put it, he went for a quick chat with Kaori and Yamaguchi. They got their picture right before the team was preparing to head back to the bus for their ride home. His coach called for him. He excused himself to join his team.  Yamaguchi and Kaori took the train home together, catching up as they commuted. They too hadn’t seen each other in years.

When Kaori got home, she took out the ticket out of the envelope to see what Tsukki wrote. The ink had been slightly smudged but his writing was still legible.

“This win was because you knew I’d get here. Thank you for believing in me before my scout did. - Tsukishima”

Kaori read his note twice, thrice, four times, savoring her promise that had come true. She tacked the ticket on the cork board above her small desk. Tsukki is always dismissive about other people’s opinion. It hadn’t fully sunk in that he had taken her word from Junior High to heart.

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

“Sato-san, I have a favor to ask.” Tsukki approached his senior hastily.

The Sendai Frogs’ first game in their home city had just ended and fans were just starting to descend from the bleachers. After a few pictures here and there. Tsukki snuck back to the locker room to quickly wipe himself down and put on a jacket without his team logo.

“Tsukki, are you headed back out? Let’s go together.” nudged Seiji Arakawa, one of his team mates.

“I’ll join in a few, you go ahead.” he said, switching from his sports goggles to his regular glasses.

Tsukki had no plans on running back to the Sendai Frog fans just yet. He was headed to Kaori’s competition. Her coach had entered her into her first competition for the fall. She was scheduled to come up in a few minutes. He had already missed her individual qualifiers and hoop individual finals because of his match, he was not going to miss her best event which was the ribbon apparatus. Akira Sato, the vice-captain, stopped him in the hallway. Just his luck!

“Tsukishima, you’re not in your team jacket. Are you trying to sneak off again?” he said, lifting a brow.

Tsukishima stopped dead on his tracks.

“I have to- I got - ribbon finals-“ he stuttered to his senior.

Tsukki guiltily gritted his teeth, “Please Sato-san, it will just be a few minutes. The performance will last less than two minutes. I’ve already missed some events. This is the last one.”

“Please cover for me.” he pleaded. Tsukki was not one to plead, but he was getting desperate.

Sato patted him at the back, “The game’s over now so you can go. In fact you got me really curious so I’ll go with you!” Sato smiled and ran by Tsukki’s side.

They passed a few team mates on the hallway on their way to Court C, where Kaori’s competition was held and Sato managed to invite them to come watch with them including Seiji.

“I think Tsukishima’s gymnast girlfriend is competing! Let’s go cheer her on guys.” he called out.

“Sato-san—“ said Tsukki, mortified. Thank god they weren’t in the public halls. He would have died of embarrassment.

“With all due respect to the sport and organizers Tsukki, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of people in that court. We have to bring our own cheer squad.” he said, winking.

A few of them were approached by fans as they passed the part of the city gymnasium that was open to the public, but most of them made it into the darkened court where Kaori’s was performing. They had gotten there just in time to see her walk in after her name was called out. Seiji, who managed to snag a program guide on the way, looked up the time slot to see who was performing. The vice captain captain quickly seated everyone at the rows nearest to the exit. The team clapped on cue following Tsukki’s lead when Kaori settled into her starting pose.

“Tsukishima said something about ribbons,” said Sato, reading the guide with Seiji.

“What’s her last name?” said Konegawa trying to read through the program guide in the dark, peering over Seiji’s shoulder, “Miya something right?”

“She’s not really my girlfriend - ” Tsukki interjected.

“Oh, competing for the Sendai University team. You two go to the same university. It’s her, isn’t it?” confirmed Seiji, pointing at the guide.

“Miyahara Kaori sounds like the name they just announced, must be her.” said Konegawa, scanning through the guide to see if there was a name just like hers.

“Only cheer when the routine is over. If we cheer too loudly during the performance, they might get distracted.” he snapped.

Tsukki felt hot in the face and folded his arms. He shot a dirty look at Akira Sato, who only chuckled and turned his eyes onto the floor where all the lights were pointed.

As soon as Kaori began her routine, the team behaved themselves. It was a traditional Japanese folk song recomposed as a classical music piece expanded through chords in the style of classical music. The piece began with the familiar opening melancholic notes of the original song.

The music progressed to undulating waves, emulating the rise and fall of a cool spring breeze. The pace picked up a couple minutes in, whipping petals that were frolicking in the wind. The petals basked in a state of in-between. They had fallen off their branches, but they had not yet touched the ground. Although the music was steadily building, a segment of the piece devoid of its thick chords played with gentle, tingling notes. The piano sounded like hope.

The piece brought Tsukki back into his Modern Art class where he saw Kaori in his classroom for the first time. The utter shock of seeing her after three years washed over him as he stood at the doorway. She was completely unconscious of him, going over her syllabus in her own desk. The sight of her filled him renewed hope. For a moment, all the pain he had felt about her sudden departure erased itself.

Tsukki walked around in shock for two days. He felt as if he had been wandering around the campus, unable to focus on any task at hand. He couldn’t believe it. She was back and she seemed happier too. He had prayed to the gods. He pleaded that if they truly listened to the prayers of mortals, they would hear him, that they would keep Kaori safe and that he would be able to see her again. He was beyond overjoyed that his prayers were answered.

Kaori responded beautifully to the music jumping to the swells and catching her ribbon to the correct beat of the music. He watched her. He couldn’t help feeling like the piece was about her return. His mind ran through the memory of seeing her in class again, reliving his joy and relief.

The team was completely enamored. They gasped when she leaped and threw her ribbon. They oohed and ahed when she did any of her spins and standing splits. When she finished there was a moment of dead silence. It was as if the entire audience held their breath, unable to believe that the routine was over. Tsukki was quiet too. The silence slowly transported him back to the audience.The ambient noise of the court had melted off and he could only look at her softly.

The team clapped and cheered enthusiastically when they realized the routine ended.

“She’s so good!” commented Seiji to Tsukki.

“That was so beautiful, Miyahara-san!” yelled Konegawa.

Kaori squinted in their direction during her bows. Tsukki felt obliged to unfold his arms and wave at her sheepishly. He could die of embarrassment right now. His team mates cheered even louder. He wanted to bury himself onto the ground. After she exited, the team quickly scrambled back outside to meet fans and do a bit of press.

Sato urged everyone to not say anything about where they went until they hit the bus. He didn’t want their coach in a foul mood just yet and besides it was unlikely that they would notice where the went anyways because they were only gone for 10 minutes.

“Thank you for doing this Sato-san,” bowed Tsukki as they jogged back.

Sato jogged in contemplative silence, replying to Tsukki a few seconds later.

“No, thank you Tsukishima. That was very beautiful. You were right to want to see it. I won’t forget her performance any time soon.” he said in a hushed voice.

“She’s hoping to perfect the program for her spring competitions.” he nodded gratefully, Tsukki was surprised by Sato’s reaction. It wasn’t just him who was moved. Hopefully his vice-captain would help him sneak out again should he need to.

“If she’s competing again sometime in spring, when the sakura are ready to bloom, I would like to see that performance again. If you don’t mind,” Sato added.

Before they began loading the bus, Konegawa saw a gymnast with the Sendai University varsity uniform walk around flowers in hand medals around her neck taking pictures with a young fan. He nudged Sato and asked him if that was indeed Miyahara-san. Sato approached her and asked her for her name. When they confirmed it was indeed her, they called over their other team mates who watched her perform to congratulate her.

“Miyahara-san, we loved your performance! It was so cool! I’ve never seen anything like it before.” cried Konegawa.

“Excuse him,” apologized Sato at Konegawa’s casualness, “We loved your performance. We hope you could allow us to congratulate you.”

The team flocked Kaori. Tsukki was more than mortified at the sound of Konegawa’s public announcement. They asked for a quick photo with Kaori. She found it hilarious when they dragged Tsukishima into the photo against his will. His eyes were wide with panic when Sato pushed him to the front for the picture.

Kaori excused herself and ran back into her bus. The whole situation amused her and she had no idea how it came to be. Tsukki promised to try to catch at least one event even though she had said it was alright that he missed her competition. In her mind she imagined him sneaking out on his own. It was totally unexpected that his team would involve themselves into the ordeal. Nevertheless she was quite touched that he had showed up like he promised. She was so excited that he had seen her at her best event that she could hardly sleep on the way home.

On the bus back to the Sendai Frog’s home gym, members of the team that had watched Kaori gathered around Tsukki to interrogate him about Kaori.

“How did you meet her?” asked Seiji.

“She moved into the house beside ours during Junior High. She moved out during High School.” he answered.

“Ohmygod, you’re childhood sweethearts!” squealed Konegawa, with his hand on his heart. Despite his towering height, Konegawa had a happy-go-lucky nature and was a softie. He loved tropes like childhood sweethearts.  

“No, well actually she moved away during High School. She moved back to do college gymnastics during college.” clarified Tsukki. They certainly did not date during High School.

“You mentioned she had a team…can you ask her to introduce us to her team? I bet they’re also graceful fairies! I’ve always wanted to date a gymnast. That would be so cool! We could watch each other’s competitions.” waxed another teammate.

“I mean Tsukki didn’t exactly get to watch her and she missed his entire game because she had her own competition. If you wanted to date someone who would always be at your games, maybe you should look for someone else.” said Seiji, calmly scrolling on his phone on the chair opposite to Tsukki.

At the front of the bus, Sato sat beside their captain, Koki Hino. He turned to their vice-captain and asked what the commotion was about. Sato skimmed through the events of the day and mentioned that Tsukishima’s girlfriend was in the stadium and some of the members had met her.

“Tsukishima has a girlfriend? Did I hear that right?” said Hino, shaking his head in disbelief. He had suspected that some of his teammates had girlfriends, but Tsukishima was not one of them.

“I was surprised too!” laughed Sato, “Although if we’re being honest everyone is equally shocked.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 2 am in the morning. Kaori had just woken up. After she got home from her competition, she only had enough energy to eat dinner and take a quick shower before falling asleep on her tatami floor. She checked the time on her phone. The dishes were still on the table and she hadn’t even laid out her futon bed. She got up, washed the dishes and unfurled her bed.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Tsukki, “Can’t sleep, let me know if you’re up.”

Kaori: I’m up finishing some chores.

Tsukki: Can I call?

Kaori hesitated. She put her dishes on the rack. She put on her headphones and tucked herself in between the blankets.

Kaori: Sure. What’s the matter?

Tsukki quietly rolled out of his bed and put on a warm jacket. He headed outside making sure to close the bedroom door carefully as to not wake his brother up. He dialed her number and waited for her to pick up. He was speaking in hushed tones.

“Hey, Kaori,” he said.

“Tsukki, are you still in your bedroom? You sound like your whispering. ” she said, unconsciously hushing her tone.

“No, I’m outside the bedroom but still inside the house.” he replied, “Anyways, I can’t stop thinking about your solo ribbon performance and the music you used. I don’t know why.”

Tsukki placed himself the furthest away from the bedroom door, which was the corner of the house with the telephone. Unbothered by how cold the living room was with the heater turned off, he sat crouched by his brother’s bookshelf.

“Today was an especially good competition day.” she admitted.

“Everything I did was going super well, even I knew I could feel that I was balanced and in control of my apparatus.” she nodded, thinking back to how she was hyper-aware of all her performances but without the usual nerves.

“What made you choose that rendition of Sakura, Sakura?” he asked.

“I’m a big fan of Belle Chen. I download all her new releases. Hearing this piece though was a totally soul-stirring experience. I was so moved when I first heard it. That bit in the end where it slows down, picks up then swells? I was crying when I first truly sat down to listen to it. Tears were just pouring. The experience was so visceral.” her voice rang with fervor. It was like she was reliving the first time she heard it. He could almost feel her hairs stand on the back of her neck as she spoke.

“Later, I thought it would be neat to show up to my later spring competitions  with Sakura themed-music so there was that too.” she added, cheekily.

“You looked so ethereal during your routine. It was unlike any of your performances I’ve caught.” he breathed slowly, replaying her performance in his head.

“I feel like the music captured the last few years for me you know…? At the end of High School, I thought I had exhausted all my good experiences from gymnastics. I had recovered from my injuries by then and I was even winning some local competitions, but I was ready to move on.

Sendai University made an offer. I was ready to turn it down, but my coach asked me to give my career a shot one last time. I told her I was exhausted. Trying to get back all my difficult skills from when I competed as an elite-level junior had worn me to the ground. I just wanted to dance without feeling like a former shadow of myself.

She said she would work with what I had. No more adding of skills unless I wanted to. I could have more say in my choreography and music. Japanese coaches tend to emphasize on repetitions. Coach has trained abroad so I guess she had a more liberal philosophy to her work. I agreed to come back to Miyagi after that and the rest is history.” she said wistfully.

“I used to think that Sakura was about the impermanence of beauty. It bloomed and then it was blown away, kind of like my career, but listening to the piece reminded me that endings open up new beginnings. I could still find joy in gymnastics even though I was not the gymnast I was. I could still be happy living in Sendai even when it was here that I had experienced many pains. I’m so glad I came back, Tsukki. And her music reminds me of that every time I listen to it.” her voice went quiet.

Tsukki felt slightly taken aback by how Kaori spoke about herself. Although she no longer competed at the elite level, she was still competitive locally. He hated to think that she peaked as an elite junior and implying that the lack of difficulty in her routine made her a lesser athlete.

“I mean you were not as technical, but it’s not like you aren’t better than before. You’re competing more freely because you’re not constantly on the brink of injury. You’re not pressured to keep a certain weight as much. Also, you’re closing out your career with an equally passionate team. You’ve spent six years in high school competing against everyone else. Isn’t this more fun way to discover your love for gymnastics?

You moved the entire audience. They forgot to clap because of you. Everyone was in awe. Competing in the elite is not the end all be all of your career. Aren’t you much happier now?”

Kaori was quiet on the other line, “You’re right. I guess I am better now and healthier and happier. Competing in college is great. I chose Sakura, Sakura you know. This would never have happened in high school.”

“So is your comeback the memory you’d place with this piece?” he asked.

She shook her head. He could hear the rustling of her hair against the phone. “I don’t want to attach a memory to this piece just yet because I don’t think the memory that is right for this has come yet. Maybe the memory isn’t completed yet. I don’t know I want to save it for the future.”

“While listening to this piece, do you have a memory that you would score this piece to?” she asked. By the way he talked, it seemed that he had a strong memory already attached to the music.

Tsukki contemplated in silence before he answered. “After you left, I had a dream while I was still in High School that you had come back. Just before the winter started, I had that dream again,” he gulped and felt the weight of his words as he swallowed, ignoring pounding in his chest.

“When I went into our first class during winter term, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you in the room. We lived our high school careers completely away from each other and now we’re here again. Beginnings and endings were part of a cycle, and I was beginning again.”

When Tsukki saw Kaori, he wanted to yell of joy, pain and relief. He walked around in shock and disbelief for two days. Despite his real feelings, he wanted to maintain a facade of indifference.

“You go here now?” were his first words to her. It was like nothing had happened as he settled on a desk beside her.

“I couldn’t believe it. I thought I must be dreaming.” he said, shaking his head.

“I was so happy that you were back and healthy. I couldn’t care less if you were with someone else or whatever. It was like all this time you were gone I couldn’t breathe and you just sitting there made me realize how much I worried about you. I was so relieved just to be able to see you.” Tsukki realized he was rambling, but he had bottled up for so long. The words were pouring out his mouth like a release.  

There was a moment of silence before Kaori spoke up again.

“Have you ever been upset that I’ve ruined your peace by coming back?” she asked curiously in a hushed voice.

“Of course not. I would never say no to you coming back to my life.” he said earnestly. 

“That’s very kind of you.” she said softly.

“No, I mean it. It was devastating when you left, but I was also too young to know how to help you if you had stayed. Besides Tokyo seems great, I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your time there.” he smiled to himself. 

Towards the end of her time in Miyagi back then, a cloud constantly weighed over Kaori. She tried to hide it yet Tsukki easily saw through it. Kaori was silent on the other line. What he said was true. He wouldn’t know how to help her through her ordeals at that time, but his earnestness of his well wishes surprised her. She had hurt him and yet his biggest worry about her safety and health. 

“Are ever you worried that happiness - this happiness we’re feeling now is impermanent?” she asked, “Aren’t you scared you don’t know if all this will suddenly disappear?”

Tsukki’s joy at her return was plain of course. However, if things won’t pan out well between them she feared that he would have been through an emotional rollercoaster for nothing. Tsukki nodded. He realized she couldn’t see him so he answered yes.

“All the time,” he murmured. “I’m scared because I don’t know how this will last, but I’m so glad you’re back. I can’t even begin to describe the happiness I feel even if that means I have something to lose again.” he swallowed hard. 

Kaori could feel his fear, his ecstasy, his anxieties and his hope rushing through her veins as she listened to him over the phone. She hated to hear the distress in his voice. 

“Kei, I said I’m not going anywhere soon, ok? I’ll tell you when I have to go this time so you can come with me. I’m so sorry, please don’t cry.” she pleaded.

“I never thought we’d get to this point, where I get to see you when you come back.” he was choking up. The dryness in his throat cracked his voice.

“I could hold your hand right now...” she whispered, intently listening to him.

“Hey, don’t be sad…we have many springs to score right? The one this year has passed, but we have the one next year and the year after that and so on…and we can go to Aichi, Nagoya some day.” she rambled, trying to cheer him up.

“And live in a house where we won’t have to move so you can have your own bookshelf.” he said softly.

“We’ll do just that.” she whispered, nodding in silence.

“I love you…so so much…” his expression softened. He closed his eyes as he felt his tears warm his face. He could hear her steady breathing on the phone.

When Kaori first met Tsukki, he was just her next door neighbor. She had never imagined that she would spend every morning walking to school or endless afternoons running around Miyagi. Kaori moved many times during her living but leaving Miyagi had been the hardest. Signing her contract with the university filled her with apprehension and excitement, knowing that she might see him again. And here they were now calling in the middle of the night, in between spring competitions toiling away in their fall season just as they did when they were younger.

When Kaori finally put down the phone, she briefly glanced at the ticket with his signature on the cork board and today’s medals on her desk. When she gets her own bookshelf, those have to make it into the trinkets section too.

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

Deleted scene:

He thought back to his dream where he was walking along the hallways of Karasuno High School on his way back to the classroom from the canteen. His left hand was throbbing in pain. During his prefectural’s final match, he injured himself while blocking a spike but earned his team’s ticket to Nationals. His hand had been feeling better, but his pain reminded him that he had not healed. Before he steps foot into the classroom, Kaori from the next class appears. He stops his steps.

“Tsukki, how is your hand?” she asks.

He weaves his way into his seat and sets his lunch down on his desk. She follows him and pulls a chair to sit across him. He glances at his hand, his pinky was still taped, splintered with his ring finger. The tape was running across his wrist and over his hand to protect his dislocated finger.

He nodded, “It’s getting better though, thanks for asking.” He looks down on his desk, suddenly bashful.

“Good luck with Nationals. It’s going to be great. Everyone’s so excited for the team.” she said. She takes his hand into hers and gently inspects his injury. Her other hand moves to cover his hand.

Tsukki holds her right hand between his hands. His heart was beating a hundred miles a second. He was nervous as hell. He kept his eyes on her hand. People were staring - he was so sure of it he didn’t even need to look up. He just wanted to be able to keep holding her. His heart beat faster and faster. Just as he has the courage to look up into her eyes. He wakes up. Tsukki was too embarrassed to tell her the entirety of his recurring dream. His cheeks turned pink just at the thought of it.

[nothingnothingaaa]

‘We all have Hoop Dreams’: Bittersweet tale of first 'reality TV show'

By Motez Bishara, May 4 2019 (CNN)

When Dwyane Wade was a 12-year-old shooting jumpers on the playgrounds of Chicago, a movie came out that would help navigate him through his future Hall of Fame career.

Released in 1994, "Hoop Dreams" shadowed the bumpy fortunes of Arthur Agee and William Gates, two inner-city Chicago youths dreaming of NBA stardom.

Wade's path to the Final Four with Marquette and championships with the Miami Heat would be lined with the same challenges faced by Agee and Gates, including the pressures of injury and young parenting, and the avoidance of drugs and gun violence.

Twenty-five years since its premier, "Hoop Dreams" still impacts Wade. "I watched it many times, and it resonated with me because we all have hoop dreams," the recently retired three-time NBA champion tells CNN.

"Growing up in Chicago you struggle," he adds, "I look at "Hoop Dreams" and I can see myself in those individuals at the time."

Film critics like the late Roger Ebert lauded the three-hour documentary for exposing a side of America rarely depicted at the time: A class system stacked against the poor, coinciding with rising corruption in youth basketball.

Filmmakers Steve James (left), Peter Gilbert (centre) and Fred Marx worked on a very thin budget until three years into "Hoop Dreams," when they were able to secure enough funding for the project.

So what has changed since then?

College basketball is coming off a thrilling season, but faces intense scrutiny as a second corruption trial involving shady figures and illicit payments around the sport unravels in court. Meanwhile, Agee and Gates remain close -- bonded not just by their fame from "Hoop Dreams," but two devastating murders in their families.

"You can't script this stuff," says Gates, 47, a youth basketball coach in San Antonio, Texas, to CNN. "Our stories continue to (overlap) like that, because he lost Bo and we lost Curtis."

Gates' brother Curtis, a former high school star who flamed out, and Agee's father Bo were both featured on screen. Curtis was shot in 2001, reportedly in a dispute over a woman, while Bo - whose redemption from crack addiction and jail time was a seminal part of the film - was killed in a robbery three years later.

"It was very heartbreaking," adds Agee, who still lives in the West Side of Chicago, not far from where he grew up. "It's so eerie that me and William always say "Hoop Dreams" was a gift and a curse, and we both lost people that played a big part of our lives.

"And then for both of us not to make the NBA, you know, that eeriness, that gift and a curse is there."

Though neither athlete played in the NBA, both received college scholarships -- no small feat coming from the dire housing projects they grew up in.

Agee, 46, who attended Arkansas State, went on to play professionally in the now-defunct USBL and had a stint with the Harlem Globetrotters. He then turned to acting, with small parts in a film and commercials.

Agee remains tied to "Hoop Dreams," which provides his motivational speaking platform in schools, and still inspires viewers to send warm messages from places as far off as Australia and China. He also sells apparel inspired by the film, including a throwback jersey from his school days.

Gates was the more heralded of the two, receiving interest from top college basketball programs and a grant to attend the prestigious St. Joseph's high school -- the same school that is shown releasing Agee, seemingly for not playing well enough as a freshman.

But Gates blew out his knee at 16, then rushed back to the court after surgery and re-injured it. Though he played at Marquette University, the injury crippled his pro potential.

"For me, it's bittersweet on many levels," says Gates about the film which he has not watched in over 16 years. "It was a constant reminder of what could have been and what didn't happen, and also a reminder that Curtis is no longer here to hear his voice."

Nevertheless, he looks back on "Hoop Dreams" as a "life turning situation," one that led to an allegiance with Michael Jordan, who invited him to pickup games before his comeback with the Washington Wizards. (An injury derailed Gates' own tryout with the Wizards, however.)

"It has opened doors," he says. "It has done things that I never thought would happen in my life."

Dwyane Wade is pictured dunking the ball.

THE FIRST REALITY SHOW

What began as a short film idea from director Steve James and producer Frederick Marx to shoot Chicago playground basketball in 1987 with a budget of $2,000 quickly took on greater ambitions.

The pair hired Peter Gilbert as a cinematographer (later added as a producer), and the trio followed Gates and Agee on and off for nearly five years. With 250 hours of footage to edit, the production took seven years in total, eventually raising the $750,000 necessary for completion.

When it was finally released in 1994, "Hoop Dreams" went viral, though the term had not yet been coined. It was nominated for best film editing at the Oscars, but snubbed for best documentary and picture, which had critics like Ebert up in arms.

"I've actually gotten way more mileage personally as a filmmaker out of not being nominated than I ever would have by getting nominated," says James, who stays in contact with Agee and Gates. "Over the years a lot more people seem to be upset on our behalf than I was personally."

By the time it ended its theatrical run, "Hoop Dreams" became the then-highest grossing documentary of all time, paving the way for hundreds of sports documentaries and streaming series currently on air.

"I call it the first reality show," says Gates. "I think it was groundbreaking."

Gates' enrollment in Marquette was mirrored exactly 10 years later by Wade, who also struggled to qualify academically for an NCAA scholarship and sat out his first year for academic reasons, the university confirmed.

Wade shared other similarities with both Agee and Gates, including feeling the pressure to rush back to action after knee injury which required surgery at Marquette. Though the operation was successful, Wade later said it led to complications as a pro.

"I watched it when I was at Marquette from a different (angle), knowing that (Gates) was staying in the same dorm that I was standing in," says Wade, who -- also like Gates -- was caring for a child (son Zaire) while in college.

Wade was separated from his mother Jolinda at a young age when she succumbed to drugs, leading to spells in jail. Like Agee's father Bo, she turned to religion after getting clean, now serving as a church minister.

"Obviously, I was able to make it," but there are challenges, he adds. "What I learned at the time is you learn a lot about other people sharing their story."

William Gates was a 17-year-old high school junior when his daughter Alicia was born.

CONTROLLED CORRUPTION

Rewatching "Hoop Dreams" 25 years later lends perspective to how fast top college recruits are forced to grow up, and how much is at stake early on.

Gates' daughter was born when he was 17, during his junior year of high school. Trying to be a father and student while rehabilitating from two knee surgeries to make it as the next Isiah Thomas -- the former St Joe's and NBA star who makes a cameo in the movie -- became too much to bear.

By the movie's final scene, with his passion for the game already waning, Gates remarks, "When somebody says, 'When you get to the NBA, don't forget about me,' I should say to them, 'Well if I don't make it, you don't forget about me."

It's no wonder he needed a break from the sport by his third year at Marquette.

"I didn't feel like a 19 or 20 year-old-kid, I felt like a kid who had been working 10 to 12 years at a job," Gates says, estimating that basketball practice and travel would take up to 60 hours a week in college. "I had a lot on my plate."

Agee had his own growing up to do, with his academics thrown into disarray after his brief spell at St Joe's, followed by Bo walking out and his mother Sheila losing her job.

In one scene, Sheila cannot pay her electricity bill and the family is left without power, while a clearly humiliated Agee broods at the camera.

(The filmmakers pitched in to get the power back on, leaving that detail out of the film. "We didn't want to look self-serving, but we felt an obligation to do that much for them," says James.)

Agee transferred to Marshall High, leading the team on an improbable city championship and state semifinal run.

In recent years the public high school has been rocked by gun violence, leaving seven former basketball players dead and two paralysed, including Agee's ex-teammate Shawn Harrington.

"I didn't let St. Joe's defeat me; I didn't let my neighbourhood and my environment pull me in to gain drugs, carrying the guns -- that whole lifestyle," Agee reflects.

It helped that the teenagers had the right people on their sides. Gates and Agee admit they were given cash during their basketball ascent by the likes of so-called street agents, drug dealers and university affiliates who often helped promising players.

In "Hoop Dreams" Agee pays for Air Jordan gear at a store with money received from drug pushers. While at Arkansas State, he says a "big street pharmacist" whose team he played for in a high school summer league bought him a car.

"That was part of the deal," says Gates of being offered gifts from universities as a highly touted recruit, before committing to Marquette. "It was like, 'Hey, you need anything let us know.' And you let them know and they took care of stuff.

"Hey I need transportation, hey I need clothes, I need shoes. They figured out how to get it to you," he says. "They did it through a friend of the program that you didn't even know was a friend of the program. That's the way it was."

In response, Marquette said it "is committed to the highest ethical standards for the recruitment and retention of our student-athletes," while Arkansas State said it had no knowledge of Agee's car purchase and that "there are too many unknown variables to comment further about a relationship from approximately 25 years ago."

Arthur Agee was recruited to play at St Joseph Arthur Agee was recruited to play at St Joseph's prep school as an eighth grader. A year later he was asked to leave, and his parents were billed for tuition they struggled to pay for.

Arthur Agee was recruited to play at St Joseph's prep school as an eighth grader. A year later he was asked to leave, and his parents were billed for tuition they struggled to pay for.

Somewhat fittingly, Gates is now a full-time coach in the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU), the collection of summer leagues that insiders say has replaced high school basketball as the launching pad for college prospects.

Among the players that have passed through Team Hoop Dreams are all three of Gates' sons, William Jr., a recent graduate of Houston Baptist University, Jalon, a junior guard at Houston Baptist, and Marques, currently in high school.

AAU has come under fire by an ongoing FBI investigation involving sneaker companies funnelling money towards recruits to land at big university programs. The AAU told CNN it does not fund its teams, calling the situation an "apparel company scandal, not an AAU scandal."

"People are buying and selling players; it's a human trafficking market." says Michael Sokolove, author of "The Last Temptation of Rick Pitino," which sheds light on college basketball corruption.

Multiple federal investigations have led to guilty pleas from four college assistants on bribery charges, the conviction of an Adidas executive, and the firing of Pitino from Louisville.

Pitino maintains he had "no knowledge" of infractions during his tenure as Louisville's head coach. James Gatto, Adidas' former head of global sports marketing, is appealing his nine-month prison sentence for wire fraud and conspiracy charges in connection with a $100,000 offer to the father of a Louisville recruit.

With athletic wear companies paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to support top AAU programs, the potential to use them as a means to distribute money to the families of top players or an influential coach is high, says Sokolove.

"Some of this is laundered money. These teams can be used as pass through," he says, adding that the ultimate goal is to breed loyalty with players who become walking advertisements for the shoe companies on the court.

The stakes have become much higher to land top recruits like Gates was in the days of "Hoop Dreams," notes Sokolove. "There are more people with their hands in the cookie jar and the kids are largely pawns in this whole endeavour."

In 2017 the NCAA surpassed $1 billion in revenue, mostly through TV rights, while top players like Zion Williamson of Duke are limited to a compensation of tuition, room and board with a modest stipend.

Like many around the sport, Gates thinks college players need to get paid. He suggests universities contribute $100,000 towards a "graduation fund" for the player if he stays in school four years "to get prepared to live life."

Gates sees the current NBA age requirement of 19 as an obstacle towards paying black athletes, calling it a "controlled corruption" not seen in mostly white sports like baseball, tennis, golf or soccer.

"The two sports that are heavily dominated by African-Americans, it seems like there is always an issue when it comes to money," he says. (The NFL enforces a three-year rule before most college football players can turn pro.)

NCAA president Mark Emmert told the Associated Press this month that the organisation has "serious issues which require serious change," but paying players will remain unlikely.

William Gates (centre) is now an AAU coach in Texas. His sons William Jr. (left) and Jalon played together at Houston Baptist University.

PART OF A BIGGER STORY

Coinciding with the movie's anniversary, Gates and his wife Catherine just celebrated their 25th year of marriage. The eldest of their four children Alicia, who was born during filming, is 30 and works as a dental hygienist.

For years Gates would not allow his sons to watch all of "Hoop Dreams," fearing the scenes of his injuries would spook them. He finally relented, though Will Jr underwent four knee procedures of his own in college.

Agee has fathered five children, with his youngest Devin a budding youth basketball player in his own right. Devin's mother Jennifer Genovesi stood by Agee in the wake of a 2017 arrest after a woman accused him of battery.

Agee was quick to call James -- who he refers to as an uncle -- to assure him of his innocence. The charges were dropped shortly afterward.

"I'm part of a bigger story in this film. I never want to bring any despair or negativity into the story," Agee says. "He was like, 'We'll get through it together,' and that was good as that."

"I feel like they know that I'm here for them," says James, the film's director.

The special bond between the parties involved in the film was reflected once "Hoop Dreams," which was never expected to be a commercial success, caught fire. In a highly unusual step, Agee and Gates were made equal partners by the producers.

"They weren't just filmmakers," says Agee. "They came in over a period of time and got to know me and my family, and then stayed in touch."

Arthur Agee bought his mother Sheila a house with royalties earned from "Hoop Dreams." He now uses the film as material for his job in motivational speaking.

Gates and Agee first received nearly $200,000 each, and Agee promptly brought his parents a four-bedroom house in a suburb.

His mother, Sheila Agee, who was seen at the end of the movie graduating tops in her nursing class, relocated to Alabama in the wake of Bo's death.

After Curtis' murder, Gates was given an unlikely last shot at the NBA at age 29 with a tryout with the Chicago Bulls. But bad luck struck again when he caught the flu on the day of the workout.

"I said maybe God doesn't want me to play basketball," he reflects. "That's when my ministry life began to open up."

Gates received his master's in biblical studies and worked as a pastor at the Cabrini Green housing project he grew up in before settling in Texas.

He is thankful that Curtis got to meet Jordan before he was killed -- another imprint tied to his fame from the film.

"What came along with that was the responsibility to teach, educate, be a friend, have some compassion and show some understanding," Gates says.

"I've been very honoured, privileged and grateful to be part of "Hoop Dreams," he reflects. "It's been super amazing to be a part of something that has withstood the test of time."

[enbyleighlines]

For your modern au prompts, how about Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang best friends going on a shopping trip?

Oooh, sounds good to me!! I hope you don’t mind that I took liberties with what constitutes as a shopping trip! This idea popped into my head, and I wanted to explore it~

—

The bell on the front door gives a twinkling little jingle as they enter. Immediately, the familiar aroma of Wei Wuxian’s favorite arts and craft store rubs against his nostrils like an affectionate cat.

Beside him, Nie Huaisang walks with a spring in their step. In the crook of their elbow, they carry a small but finely crafted handbag, as though they’re a rich socialite on a shopping spree in the big city. “Here we are,” Nie Huaisang says, excitement giving their voice a fun lyrical quality, “Where shall we start, Wuxian-xiong?”

Wei Wuxian can’t help the wide grin that breaks across his face. He scoops up one of the shopping baskets by the entrance. “We should start from the ground up,” he decides, logically, “Let’s go see how sturdy their poster board is.”

“We can always glue a layer or two of cardboard to the base,” Nie Huaisang points out.

“True, true.”

The two friends make their way towards the poster aisle. They’re on a mission, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have fun.

They’re making a diorama as their final project for freshman biology. Thankfully, they were allowed to pick their own partners, and since they’ve become quick friends over the course of the year, it was a no brainer.

Their plan is to create a miniature factory, with its walls, machines, and workers, but then label everything as though they’re the parts of a human cell. Wei Wuxian is certain that it will appeal to their teacher’s quirky sense of humor, and earn them a grade worth bragging about. Nie Huaisang is less convinced, but they’re just happy for the opportunity to show off their talent for arts and crafts.

They sift through their manyu options, poster boards of all different sizes, material, colors, and even textures.

Nie Huaisang pulls out out of the rack and gasps delicately, as though they’re holding a precious treasure. “Wuxian-xiong,” they say, “Feel this one. Isn’t it just like the gritty texture of cement?”

Wei Wuxian runs the tips of his fingers over the rough surface. “Oh wow, you’re right! But won’t that make it difficult to glue things to it?”

“Ah, I hadn’t considered that!” Nie Huaisang gives the poster board another longing-filled stroke. “Perhaps we can use little metal stands for the figurines, and stick the metal through the poster?”

Seeing that his friend’s heart is set on the poster board, Wei Wuxian nods. “Yeah, that could work! We’ll definitely need to add some cardboard to the base, though. We get a bunch of cardboard boxes at the restaurant from shipments and stuff. I’m sure Jiang-shushu won’t mind if we take one.”

Nie Huaisang eagerly takes the paper board and rolls it up. It’s still too long to fit in the basket, but at least they could carry it one-handed. “What next, Wuxian-xiong?”

“Metal wire for the stands, probably,” Wei Wuxian answers, “And maybe some of those things they use in gardens, with the names of plants on them? We can use those to label stuff. Would they have those here? If not, we can probably make our own...”

“There’s a gardening store around the corner,” Nie Huaisang says helpfully.

Wei Wuxian nods sagely. “That’ll do. Oh, and we should probably be keeping track of how much everything costs. How much did Nie Mingjue give you to spend?”

Nie Huaisang gives Wei Wuxian an incredibly self-satisfied smirk. They dig into the handbag and fish out a stack of folded bills. “Oh, we don’t need to worry about money,” they assure Wei Wuxian smugly, “My Gege gave me more than enough.”

Wei Wuxian whistles.

Nie Mingjue, Huaisang’s half-brother, took over management of the family business recently. He’s also been the one looking after Huaisang ever since their parents retired to travel the world. Mingjue likes to pretend that he’s a strict disciplinarian, yet he spends money on Huaisang like it’s going out of style.

To hear Nie Huaisang tell it, they’ve always been a spoiled child. But it seems as though it’s gotten even worse ever since Nie Mingjue became Huaisang’s primary guardian.

Nie Huaisang giggles behind their wad of cash. “So, yeah,” they say, “Money is not an issue.”

Wei Wuxian might be jealous if he was the type of person to get jealous. Instead, he only laughs in delight. “That’s good to know! Let’s take proper advantage of your Da-gege’s generosity, then!”

—

They quickly fill up the basket and have to upgrade to a cart. They take their time choosing the plastic figurines. There aren’t any factory workers, but there are some crossing guards, and a man in an astronaut suit, and they figure they can just pain over them. Nie Huaisang already has a decent collection of paints, but they also grab some new brushes, along with a fine point pen.

Then it’s off to the gardening store for some plastic plant markers, with tips sharp enough to pierce through paper and cardboard. While they’re there, they also grab some short two-inch fences and some mesh to use in constructing the cell walls.

They bring their haul back to the Jiang residence, because it’s closer.

The Jiang house is unusually quiet. Jiang Cheng is at soccer practice, and Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan are both at work at the restaurant. Jiang Yanli is home, though. She greets them at the door, and then immediately moves to prepare tea and snacks for them.

“Your supply run went well, I see,” she says, as she putters around the kitchen.

Wei Wuxian makes sure to plant a big, loud kiss to her cheek before he starts unloading things onto the dining room table. “It went great, actually,” he says, “Jiejie, you have to see all these awesome things we found!”

Nie Huaisang hovers a tad awkwardly in between the kitchen and dining room. It’s not the first time they’ve been to Wei Wuxian’s house, but it’s not a routine experience, either.

Glancing over her shoulder, Jiang Yanli examines the enormity of their haul with a worried expression. The cause of her concern becomes clear when she says, “I hope you didn’t have to use up all of your allowance on this school project, A-Xian.”

“Nope!” Wei Wuxian beams at her. “I didn’t spend a penny. Huaisang-xiong’s rich Gege footed the bill.”

“That... was probably not the best way to phrase that,” Nie Huaisang murmurs to Wei Wuxian, “Please let your Jiejie know you meant my actual Gege, and not an older guy who spends money on me like I’m his sugar baby.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. And then he starts snickering loudly. “She’s not going to assume that,” he assures them.

“What will I not assume?” Jiang Yanli places a plate of rice crackers on the kitchen’s island, and raises one of her brows at them.

Nie Huaisang grabs Wei Wuxian’s arm to stop him, but it’s too late.

“Huaisang-xiong doesn’t want you thinking they have a sugar daddy,” Wei Wuxian confesses, “So they want me to emphasize that, in this case, I used the term ‘their Gege’ to refer to Nie Mingjue.”

Nie Huaisang looks like they want to melt into the floor.

But Jiang Yanli only giggles, demurely, behind the cover of her hand. “Well, I’m glad you clarified that,” she teases both of them, “Both of you are too young to have sugar daddies, anyway. Come, and have some rice crackers while the tea steeps.”

The two freshmen each hop up onto one of the stools obediently. Wei Wuxian stuffs his mouth without thought, while Nie Huaisang carefully nibbles at their cracker like a timid mouse.

There’s a bit of companionable silence. Jiang Yanli pours them each a cup of green tea, and then moves the sugar bowl within their reach.

Then she sits on one of the stools opposite them, and asks, “How are your other final projects coming along?”

Wei Wuxian heaves a dramatic sigh. “Bo-oring,” he singsongs, “It’s all essays and making flashcards for the exams. The same old generic stuff we did in middle school.”

“I get to make a poster for home ec.,” Nie Huaisang offers.

“Ooh, about what?”

“We have to try to design the food pyramid,” Nie Huaisang answers, “Other kids are just making collages out of newspaper clippings, but I want to try my hand at painting the food. I’ve never had a reason to paint food before, except for maybe an apple, back when we were learning how use shading.”

Jiang Yanli smiles. “That sounds fun,” she says, “Just don’t get so caught up in your fun projects that you don’t leave any time for the boring ones.”

“Right,” Nie Huaisang answers automatically.

Wei Wuxian is more lax. “I’ll be fine,” he assures his Jiejie, “Besides, I get my best work done at the last minute.”

Jiang Yanli gives her Didi a look. “That’s not how that works.”

“It is how it works! That spike of adrenaline really helps me get things done,” Wei Wuxian insists, and taps the edge of his nose with a cheeky little smirk.

“But it doesn’t leave you much time to go back and edit, does it?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “I make less mistakes on my first drafts than everyone else does on their final copies! If I start turning in perfect papers, then people might think I’m just showing off.”

“You ARE showing off,” Nie Huaisang snips.

That makes Jiang Yanli giggle again. She shakes her head at Wei Wuxian, but in a fond sort of way. Neither try to continue the argument.

“What about you, Jiejie?” Wei Wuxian asks suddenly, “Any fun final projects?”

“Just exams,” Jiang Yanli answers. She’s a high school junior, two years ahead of them. “Though, my math teacher said that anyone who already has an A in the class doesn’t have to take the final exam.”

“Let me guess,” Wei Wuxian says with no little hint of pride, “You have an A.”

Jiang Yanli hides her mouth behind the rim of her teacup. “I do,” she confirms, and her smile is audible in her tone. “So that’s one less thing for me to worry about.”

“That’s my Jiejie! Smartest girl in the whole world!”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Think so? I know so!”

Nie Huaisang smiles at that. Though the dynamic between Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian is completely different from their relationship with Mingjue, there’s still something vaguely familiar about it.

Just like Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang, really. They’ve got completely different temperaments. Wei Wuxian is a natural leader, charismatic, bold, and optimistic. Nie Huaisang tends to follow the herd, being as indiscisive and anxious as they are. Yet the two of them are often on the same wavelength.

That’s probably why, even though they only met for the first time that year, it already feels like they’ve been friends for a long time.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

On the Subject of Your Subject Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E/NSFW Word count: 5717

Spideychelle Week Day 6: College AU

Summary: MJ's spending her summer taking yet another art class, but it's not about the college credit, it's about the practice. She's considering how to fix a sketch when she overhears some classmates discussing their work. While the work might be their own, MJ hears enough to know that the subject most certainly is not. It's time for this art studio wallflower to stake a claim on Spider-Man.

MJ was very observant. It was one of the two things that had remained constant as time went by (faster all the time, she swore)―the other being the boyfriend she’d had since her junior year of high school. Right now, she was hoping it was the observing thing that was going to eventually get her a job. Oh, she was sure that the boyfriend could get her a job if she asked, but it would almost definitely require crippling overtime, a wardrobe full of metal, and a readiness to go starry-eyed with hero-worship at the mention of the name ‘Tony Stark.’ Or at least that was the cue she was getting from him. The boyfriend. Peter.

But the job, yeah. So, what she was doing didn’t exactly look like laying the foundation for steady employment right now, like, per say, but between the three years of college still ahead of her, bursaries, and some additional bankrolling from her mother the doctor, MJ was going to use art school to turn her detention caricatures into a career.

Something she’d observed since starting college was that not everybody wanted to be there. MJ found it totally disturbing (if not occasionally warranting a pity laugh) that so many people either barely showed up for classes or only showed up; in her opinion, the former were fledgling adults still acting like children and the latter were today’s youth already clocking in and out like weary middle-aged suits.

Meanwhile, she couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get enough studio time. Couldn’t get enough of her ideas on paper. Enough charcoal under her fingernails. Enough standing behind a canvas until her feet ached, or curved with feral possessiveness around a drawing pad on her lap. Enough lines drawn and redrawn and redrawn and redrawn and redrawn.

So MJ had completed year one (her mom bought a very fancy cake that they ate with their feet up on the coffee table at home, using forks which neither of them could absolutely confirm were clean, since between an on-call doctor’s schedule and a student’s, nobody had exactly been on top of loading and emptying the dishwasher) and enrolled in a summer class. It was figure drawing, which, yes, she’d already taken as it was a mandatory class―arguably the class upon which all other art classes depended―but while figure drawing had finished with MJ, MJ had not finished with figure drawing. She felt that it was impossible to overlearn the basics, plus the professor she’d had the first time around had been a dick. In fact, MJ believed that there had not been a bigger dick known to humankind since Michelangelo got up close and personal with David.

The summer prof was a marked improvement. Less ego, more encouragement. More understanding, less likely to make MJ want to flip her easel and ram one of its legs up their… Warhol. And with fewer students enrolled during the warmer months, there were fewer classes running, and therefore more studio time, which she took gleeful advantage of, with a territorial staking-out of the best spot in the room and the nasty glare she sent towards people who were too friendly. She was gleeful on the inside.

Was that boyfriend mopey about her choosing the art life instead of spending her summer with him? Absolutely not. Peter had his own thing going on (this was how MJ downplayed the daily saving of lives). Besides, they found ways to see each other. Like how she bought the famous Spider-Man a hot dog in Central Park after he turned one end of the skipping ropes for a couple of kids playing Double Dutch. Or how he scared the bejesus out of her while she was painting alone in the studio and glanced around to see what was throwing a shadow on her canvas (just a dork waving at her through the window―a window on the fourth floor).

They had to be careful when Peter was in the suit; it wasn’t really safe for any of those freaks (‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes,’ or whatever) to make potentially skulking bad guys aware that they had less-than-super friends, kids, girlfriends, etc. Lucky for Peter, MJ was incredibly good at careful. It was worth it for the rest of the time that they got to be together without the suit.

The suit wasn’t her problem at the moment though. There was no article of clothing (pioneered by Tony Stark or otherwise) that was her problem. Actually, the lack of clothes was the problem, because she was hesitating, hand hovering over a nude sketch that she wanted to fix. MJ squinted. She just couldn’t see how. A trio of bohemians across the room sent up giggles like scattered pigeons and MJ closed her eyes in irritation. She opened them and stared at the sketch. Yeah, maybe she could stand to watch something else for a while.

With a little subtle angling, she created a line of sight to the other girls. Looked like two of them were clustered around the easel of the third. They were teasing her. Ah, but this particular student―MJ had observed―liked to be teased. It wasn’t the common mocking of the scholarship kid or the uninventive, elementary school, lunch money shakedown. It was that sunny, sticky teasing that left extroverts flushed from all the attention. Yuck.

MJ watched the three friends, studied their postures and dynamic. Everything was food for art. Reading their body language might help her sort out her difficulties with this sketch. She assessed them with her ears as well as her eyes; art might have been a largely visual experience for the viewer, but for her, shaping a piece in ways that could never be understood in the passing sweep of a gaze, it was multisensory. Peter might have taught her a little something about that. He claimed that she had her own enhancements, even without the super-biology.

From their words and the giddy pitch, it was obvious that they were tackling the same type of project that MJ was: a nude. She directed her face downward, towards her page, as she rolled her eyes. Art models were just people, not porn stars. Students at this level should really understand that, MJ felt. Giggling over a bared breast or the muscular indent of a man’s ass was amateurish.

She rolled her shoulders, trying to shrug off the judgement. Ok, maybe these three were inelegant twerps, but who said twerps couldn’t be art? If Dalí could find inspiration in a loaf of bread, then MJ could see how she progressed with a vapid, unoriginal muse. As long as her own work didn’t turn out derivative, the girls could present as clichéd a scene of immaturity as they pleased. MJ listened harder and let her grip loosen on her pencil. The lines would come when she was ready.

“You didn’t,” Girl One insisted.

“Of course she didn’t.” Ooh, bit more of a petty tone from Girl Two. “She just wants the attention. She can’t get the grades, so she’s hoping to cause enough of a scandal that her work is noticed and somebody pays big bucks for it. Who gives a fuck about a degree when some dude drops a million and puts you on the map?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal,” said The Artist Herself. MJ blinked a few times in case any of that false modesty was airborne, keeping her eyes free of the irritants her ears couldn’t help but admit.

“Everyone’s going to freak,” Girl One squealed effervescently.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stay quiet instead? Just keep this piece for myself or… maybe give it to him?”

“You can’t! This would be, like, a cultural phenomenon.”

Don’t get ahead of yourselves, MJ thought wryly.

Girl Two snorted, earning her a moment of approval from the observer.

“But no one’s even going to know it’s him,” the skeptic argued.

MJ frowned. All of their models this term had been female. Sure, it was reasonable that the artist could’ve had someone else pose for her―either professionally or casually (though MJ didn’t have that kind of relationship with any of her friends)―but it sounded like the girl’s plan A was to submit her piece as part of her coursework. That didn’t add up. Their instructor preferred that the students work from the same subject, one that the professor themselves was familiar with so that they could properly assess the fidelity of the rendering.

“They’ll know by the title,” The Artist Herself asserted.

“You’ll still have to give him a face, Mel.”

“It’s kind of avant-garde this way though, right?” Girl One’s comment was plenty chipper.

“It’s a copout,” Girl Two stated. “If you really slept with him and you’re prepared to tell the tale, you can’t just call the thing ‘Spider-Man in Repose’ and leave it at that.”

They carried on with their playful chatter, but MJ’s hearing had fuzzed out. What they were saying―that this art bitch had nailed her dork of a boyfriend―was impossible. She didn’t need to endorse the ridiculous claim by actually asking Peter if it was true. No, MJ wasn’t heartbroken or confused, she was angry. Didn’t they, any one of them, consider Spider-Man’s privacy? The respect he had earned as a public figure? He wasn’t just a mask, or a picture of that mask on a souvenir t-shirt. This would be libel if Spider-Man’s real identity was known to the general public. Little kids needed to see their hero on the morning news helping old ladies across the street and rescuing animals from burning buildings, not as the subject in some horny coed’s mediocrity.

“―it seriously. This is probably the only case where people are more interested in seeing a celebrity’s face than his dick.”

The pencil fell from MJ’s fingers and she didn’t pick it up, more focused on controlling her expression so she’d look unaffected if any of them glanced over.

“Sandra, stop,” Girl One twittered.

MJ supported the sentiment, if not the tone of voice. She lifted her foot and deliberately stomped on the end of her pencil, snapping the point. Uh oh, it looked like she’d have to go to the supply room to find a sharpener. It was located through a door half a dozen feet behind the other girls. Convenient for sneaking a look at whatever was on that canvas, which would enable her to come up with a tailored plan to fix this.

She began with a loud sigh and a forlorn look at her broken pencil. Again, not trying to be quiet, she pushed her sketch aside and crossed the room. The girls were still talking. Maybe they hadn’t forgotten MJ was there. Maybe they were crossing their fingers that she was a shit-stirrer. A patient zero for the gossip they were hoping to benefit from spreading. She circled around them and darted into the supply room, swinging the door only partially shut while she rattled a box of pencils before coaxing as much noise as possible out of the most ancient-looking sharpener she could find.

“Would you do him again?” Girl One asked.

“If she says no,” Girl Two cut in, “then she’s definitely making it up. Who the hell would hit-it-and-quit-it with Spider-Man? Especially if he’s that ripped under the suit.”

MJ crept to the threshold and looked in their direction. The Artist Herself shifted from one foot to the other, contemplating her own work, and MJ finally got a look at the unfinished painting. In its technical aspects, it was fine. Not accomplished, not garbage. So, better than she’d been expecting. It just wasn’t Peter. Even without a face, it wasn’t Peter. Peter was ripped―not that these people knew that, or ever would―but this wasn’t his body as she’d come to know it. Which was extremely well.

Grinning, MJ hurried back to her sketchbook and flipped it shut. Watching the girls from a different angle had made her consider a new approach to her block with her work in progress, but that wasn’t what propelled her out of the studio. She had an amazing idea.

\\\

“I don���t see how this solves the problem,” Peter said. “It still generates Spider-Man gossip.”

“But if it involves me, no one will believe it,” MJ emphasized, grabbing his shoulder. “I’m background noise in that studio. I’m furniture, Peter. I’ve never tried to be the center of attention and we can use that.”

He narrowed his eyes, but she could see the trust in them, like always.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You’re just confused because this is a plan and those are foreign to you.” She gave him a sad smile and released his shoulder with a consoling squeeze.

“Hey―what? I-I plan,” he said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. Yep, this was the body of her Spider-Man, not that generic canvas Adonis.

“You’re impulsive and adaptable. You can think on your feet in the middle of a fight, but, babe, you don’t plan.”

“But what about―”

“Peter.”

“There was that time I―”

“Peter.”

He sighed.

“Ok, when are we gonna do this?”

\\\

The research was really only two steps: showing up on campus at different times to learn when The Artist Herself (and co.) normally arrived, and figuring out how to unlatch one of the large studio windows. Both of these elements fit extremely easily into MJ’s schedule.

The friends’ interest in the Spider-Man portrait seemed to rise and fall and rise again; frequently, they actually worked on their own pieces instead of gossiping. Ok, instead of only gossiping. They still gossiped. Whenever it wasn’t about the unfathomably unrealistic Spider-Man affair, MJ drowned them out with headphones and made progress on her sketch.

She gave it a week―the recon―because that was a standard length of time and the mission felt more scientific that way. Ugh, these were Peter’s words. Her head was full of Avengers vernacular these days, all mixed up with a spectrum of graphite hardnesses and the names of a couple dozen French landscape painters. That was how MJ really knew her body wasn’t going to one day reject Peter like a mismatched blood donation. He’d become part of her mental vocabulary, and that was her sanctuary.

She hustled him through the propped-open window and into her physical sanctuary, the studio, on a Friday. Midmorning and the light was clear and white. The room would transform around 4:30pm when a hot afternoon glow inflamed the space through westward-facing glass, but this earlier, crisper light was good for a lot of things. Uniform illumination across textured sheets of watercolour paper. Fidelity of oil paint colours roughly blended and scraped with a palette knife. Minimal shadows cast as Peter’s feet, saran-wrapped into his Spidey suit, landed on the wood floor. With heavier footfalls, thanks to her black combat boots, MJ led him to the supply room and shut them in.

“Cutting it a little close,” she complained, glancing at her watch.

“I was on my way,” Peter said, gesturing widely (what kept MJ calm was the knowledge that his superhuman agility would make sure he caught anything he knocked over before it hit the ground), “and then there was this guy trying to grand theft auto a flour truck out in front of this bakery.” He pointed like the bakery was hiding just across the room behind the industrial-sized jugs of linseed oil. Peter deflated, mind snapped swiftly into the present. “Long story short, the bakery owner promised me free bagels if you wanna go after.”

MJ nodded, trying to tame her fond smirk. She would’ve loved him just as much if his biology had been totally garden-variety, but Peter in the suit―eyes of his mask widening as he relayed his latest crime bust―was adorable.

“After.”

“Ok… ok, great.”

Peter attempted to lean casually into a stack of collapsed easels, which squeaked loudly across the floor, threatening a noisy topple, before he jerked upright and steadied them. The way he’d never gotten calmer about her saying yes to a date was pretty adorable too.

“So, when are they―”

MJ heard the door to the studio bang open and slapped a hand across the mouth area of her boyfriend’s mask. Her palm didn’t actually obstruct his words, but the action silenced him. He tensed at her side as they tilted their heads, listening. A more minor part of the mission―dammit, plan―had been for MJ to make sure there were enough easels, brushes, and various other tools of the trade out on and around the counter that spanned one wall of the studio; the last thing she and Peter needed was an unsuspecting audience member striding into the supply room. Oh, those girls would know they were in here, but it wasn’t going to be by accident.

“You don’t think they’ll leave when they hear us?”

MJ shivered―Peter’s lips were right against her ear. She hadn’t heard him peel up his mask and lean in. Turning her head slightly, she tried to respond just as softly.

“Not these three. They’re shamelessly curious.”

“You’re sure?”

God, her face was getting hot. He was just talking to her. Talking at a whisper. Fine, it was kinda sexy, though there were things besides his last-second questioning of her brilliant plan that she’d rather have heard in that voice.

“You didn’t see the painting,” MJ reminded him.

“Yeah, there’s that,” Peter allowed.

They waited a few minutes longer, enduring the insignificant chatter and grating laughter coming from the studio. MJ tried to keep as still as Peter. Gradually, the human sounds lessened and were replaced by the glop of a brush through too much paint, the hiss of that same brush across a taut canvas. She looked at him and nodded.

“We’re starting?” he murmured.

MJ turn away from the door and smacked the center of his chest, turning the Spidey suit into a slack mass that Peter reflexively caught in his elbows before it could fall all the way down. She raised her eyebrows. Peter let the suit drop.

“This isn’t very romantic,” he complained quietly, yanking his feet free and piling the suit on the lid of a large tub of gesso.

“Yeah, well, we can’t exactly do this with the suit on.”

“The mask?”

MJ assessed his face, everything below his nose uncovered.

“I think half-off is fine, in case they barge in. The lower part of your face isn’t very distinctive.”

She twisted towards the door once more. At this point, they were supposed to be past discussion. Peter really didn’t understand the concept of planning something in advance, even when they had planned this in advance.

“Again with the lack of romance,” he griped, suddenly pressed up right behind her. Immediately, MJ’s heart was pounding more fiercely.

“Trying to be practical, nerd.”

Her voice didn’t come out overly stern, not with Peter’s hands touching down very lightly on her hips.

“But what do I always say when we order pizza and you try to get me to choose between bacon and ham?”

“You don’t need that much meat on a pizza. It’s high in sodium.”

His sigh ruffled the hair hanging in a loose ponytail against the back of her neck.

“No, that’s what you always say. What do I say?”

Pressing her palm to the door, MJ let her eyes slide closed. One of Peter’s hands had ducked under the hem of her shirt. She felt the side of his thumb skim her abdomen.

“That you prefer both,” she replied.

He made a low agreeing noise, flattened his palm against her for a second, then rotated his hand to unbutton her jeans. There was a surge within her. Peter always turned her on, but this was a fresh excitement. Subtly, MJ pressed her hips forward. She heard him breathe harder. His other hand moved from her hip to grasp the waist of her jeans while he unzipped them. She could feel it. She could feel him behind her, rising and thickening. Dipping his hands into her undone jeans, Peter nosed her hair out of the way to kiss her for the first time since they’d entered the room, on the side of her neck.

“I think I prefer both too,” she said.

She felt his teeth as he smiled and pushed against his crotch in response. His groan was abbreviated to a grunt when he clamped his mouth shut; the clench of Peter’s jaw bumped her throat. MJ grinned to herself and rolled into him again. There wasn’t any hesitancy as his fingers pried the thin elastic edge of her underwear away from her skin and plunged one hand beneath it. She gasped aloud and the fact that they were doing this for a reason came back to her. That didn’t mean being overheard had to be the only reason.

Because MJ knew it was one of Peter’s weaknesses, she grasped his wrist, slowly smoothing her hand down to lay flat on the back of his, and urged it further. He panted, kissing her neck, more loosely this time. Reaching up and back with her other hand, she toyed with the little flick of hair at back of his neck, right where it started to curl if he went too long between haircuts―exposed below the peeled up mask. With a shudder, Peter stroked a finger through her increasing arousal. Her hand tensed on his. A subtle widening of her stance wouldn’t be quite so subtle to the guy whose super-senses allowed him to notice the tiniest details even when distracted, but so be it. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know how she wanted him to touch her.

She turned her head, disengaging Peter’s before bringing him back just as quickly with a thorough kiss. Continuously, MJ’s fingers stroked his hairline. Goosebumps spread across the back of his neck.

“Let me know,” she said in a teasing voice, pausing to lick his lower lip, “if I’m being too romantic.”

Peter’s lips smiled against hers.

“And you tell me…” His mouth remained open, questioning almost, as he traced her opening with the tip of his finger. MJ exhaled roughly. “…if I get too practical.”

With that, Peter withdrew his hand (she would not admit to actually fucking whimpering in disappointment), grabbed her hips, and spun her, forcing her back against the door. The resultant thud was followed by confused-sounding voices from their prey in the studio. Exhilarated more than panicked, MJ looked her boyfriend sternly in the eyes of his mask.

“We need to make more noise, now, before they come to investigate,” she murmured.

Appearing to barely make contact with his fist, Peter forced another thump out of the door. MJ rolled her eyes, heartrate dropping.

“Not like that. They’ll just think somebody’s locked in here.”

“Like what then?”

“Like… sex-type noises,” she said, gesturing vaguely before folding her arms around his neck, fingers back to playing with his hair.

The only problem with Peter’s improvising was that he didn’t give her enough time to check him out―wearing nothing but his boxers and folded-up mask―before he did it. He just stepped close and snatched the jeans and underwear down her legs, then cupped his hand between them. MJ panted in surprise and reawakened desire. It wasn’t loud enough. They both knew it.

Necessity was supposed to be the mother of invention, but she figured the smirk on Peter’s face right before he stroked his finger inside her was necessity’s other child. MJ sighed in pleasure and paired it with a look that said, about time, nerd. Though he dug in deeper, he would only curl his finger slightly, making her hips wriggle and, consequently, bump against the door.

Shit, there were footsteps heading their way. Peter had it handled―MJ flushed retroactively at her mental double-entendre―pressing another finger into her and hooking both firmly. She let out a genuine wail.

From the other side of the door, a hysterical giggle.

MJ didn’t care what they said, just that the girls stayed in the studio―that was vital. Rather than straining to hear the specific words constructing the scandalized tone, she pulled Peter closer. Running a palm down his chest, she had him faintly trembling before she suddenly grasped his erection through his boxers. He groaned loudly enough to send a prickle down MJ’s spine. Now the listeners would know there were two people in here, instead of a lone pervert masturbating to the sight of uniformly sharpened coloured pencils. (She did enjoy being surrounded by beautiful new art supplies, just not in a way that made her want to go American Pie on them.)

Biting lightly along Peter’s jaw (so maybe she thought the lower part of his face was more special and alluring than she’d implied), MJ released her hold on him, only to sneak her hand inside his boxers and grasp him properly. He was hot and pulsing in her palm, breath muggy on the side of her face. It intensified her pleasure. She stroked him, steady and torturous, and eased down on his fingers as Peter continued his own motions.

“You’re getting me so wet, Spider-Man,” MJ breathed.

Peter tilted his head away.

“Louder,” he said.

She kissed him before taking a good look at his parted lips and the pink of his cheeks, delicate as a watercolour wash. Peter interrupted her study.

“They should hear you say it,” he prompted, glancing down to where he fingered her. “So they know you’re in here with him. Me.”

Gradually, still grinding down on his hand as he kept a fixed momentum, MJ grinned.

“Would it really be for their benefit, or yours?”

Peter looked up immediately. His gaze slid from one of her eyes to the other. Suddenly, he jabbed his fingers more insistently. MJ gasped and automatically squeezed her fist, making her boyfriend lurch closer.

“Let me see you for a minute,” she said. It stopped being a request as she pushed his mask up herself.

He raised his free hand, trailing the backs of his fingers across her cheek, then slapped his palm to the door, making it (and her heart) jump. Biting down on her lip, she tempered and tenderized her excited smile.

“Just say it,” Peter demanded, brown eyes molten.

Letting her head tip back and hit the door, MJ repeated herself at a much higher volume. That got the girls in the studio talking again.

“Better?” she asked Peter, looking him square in the eye. He shook his head.

“I didn’t like that one either.”

His thumb went to her clit and she rubbed while he held still, fingers unmoving inside her.

“Suggestions?”

MJ was trying for nonchalant. The truth was that she couldn’t manage a full sentence, not at the moment, not while a tingle like static charge was building, climbing her body from the location of Peter’s thumb. He gave her a kind, very normal, Peter sort of smile.

“Say it to me.”

Locking eyes with him, MJ rotated her wrist, caressing up and down his length. She saw his jaw clench.

“You’re getting me so wet, Spider-Man.”

Peter exhaled evenly.

“Condom?”

“Front pocket.”

First, his hand went from the door into his boxers, gently unwrapping her fingers from his dick with an expression of great sacrifice on his face. Continuing to gaze back at her, Peter pushed his boxers off and nudged them away with the side of his foot. MJ lowered her eyes to sweep his body, but when they came back up, she discovered he hadn’t quit looking at her. With another trust-inspiring smile, he knelt. Dextrous fingers retrieved the condom from her jeans. Peter kissed her hip, her inner thigh, before helping her out of her boots and clothing the rest of the way. Only her thin t-shirt stayed on, and he could probably feel her nipples through that, especially when he straightened up and lifted her by the backs of her thighs. MJ’s hand met his against her leg and she took charge of the condom, opening it and then unrolling it on him.

“Already feels good,” Peter told her. She kissed him for a lengthy minute in exchange for his honesty. And for his desire for her, currently standing rigid between them. “M,” he whispered fervently as their mouths parted.

Her inner thighs clamped to his hips as she shifted, angling herself. Ready. He was careful not to hide his grin as he tugged the mask back down over his eyes and nose. Peter’s expression became focused as he followed her guiding hand, delving into her. Already too worked up to receive him slowly, MJ used her legs to draw him all the way in, although it stopped her breath. When she inhaled, the sound in her ears was of someone surfacing from a deep dive.

“Spider-Man,” MJ said, loud, clear, hungry.

Peter thrust.

“Oh, Jesus,” she gasped, though she’d only ever found religion in paintings; angels―good and terrible―in unearthly detail, or obscured by heavenly backlighting.

Her boyfriend spoke to her like mindreading was part of his lunchbox assortment of superpowers.

“How would you paint me,” Peter asked, begging while he commanded. Another thrust, deeper. She clung to his shoulders.

“Haloed,” MJ panted.

Surging forward, he kissed her messily. She did nothing to bring order to the kiss, tongue twisting and tumbling with Peter’s, moaning lustfully into his mouth. He rocked his hips even harder when MJ clawed her fingers into his hair beneath the mask and took a good grip. She didn’t know anymore if they were noisy, couldn’t count how many times his driving thrusts tested the strength of the door. Every breath shaky, MJ rolled what felt like her entire body. She sweat―the room’s circulation was poor and the day must have been getting hotter―and Peter’s hand smoothed greedily over her hip and up to her waist, under her t-shirt.

His other hand supported her, the grip on her leg soft yet strong, and MJ was confident, throwing her hips down onto his, caught by a solid prod and the best feeling in the world. Peter bucked faster and her hand clamped to the back of his neck, the other sticky on his shoulder. Formless, desperate sounds left her mouth, giving up on the kiss, and convinced her boyfriend to reach between her legs and manipulate her clit in tight circles.

“Spide… Spi… Sp…”

MJ climaxed, yanking Peter’s torso to hers, and squeezing her eyes shut. Things were blurry, even inside her head. Holding tight to thighs that felt only distantly like her own, Peter strove through a final handful of thrusts, ending in a completion that heaved MJ’s limp body into the door one last time. They waited it out, the calming. She wanted to tell him that he was her hero for not having weak human arms, which might have been worn out by the sex and set her bare ass down on the supply room floor (ew), but she prioritized breathing. There would be other opportunities to make the nerd blush.

Peter exhaled forcefully after a little bit.

“Are you good? Do you wanna stand?” He pulled back, swiping hair away from her face. Damn ponytail had been too loose.

“Yeah.”

MJ’s feet touched the floor and she stepped around Peter. That was when her legs forgot how to be legs and she tripped over a massive roll of bubble wrap. The jolt woke her up, but it was Peter’s quick hands that caught her.

“Now I’m good,” she said, a little giddy.

“Ok.”

Peter’s hands backed off, but his arms stayed extended towards her.

“Relax.” Her voice probably wasn’t sarcastic enough to hide how sweet she thought he was being. “If I need rescuing while I put my pants on, you’ll be the first to know.”

They dressed quickly―meaning MJ did her best, skipping her socks (they went into her pocket), while Peter stood there, already in his full Spider-Man suit. Yeah, if her outfit was a single sausage casing, she’d be fast too. She assumed the condom had made it into the large trash can, alongside pencil shavings and her classmates’ scrapped ideas.

“Show off,” she mumbled.

“Hey, I don’t want to keep the bakery guy waiting. I have a lot of respect for the schedule of a man who wants to give me free bagels.”

MJ couldn’t see the smirk on his face since he’d pulled the mask down, but she could hear it.

“Yeah, yeah. Go out the window and I’ll meet you two blocks down, like we planned.”

Peter nodded and she let him hold the door for her as they stepped out into the studio. Looked like the audience had hung around. Applause would’ve been nice, MJ couldn’t lie.

“Until next time,” she told Spider-Man, ignoring the others for a moment.

He did a lame little salute that she was definitely never going to let him do again before bounding to the window and scrambling out. Maybe it was smoother than a scramble, but she was suffering from the lameness of the salute.

“How’s the painting going?” she asked The Artist in a tone of colossal disinterest once Spider-Man was out of sight.

Before the girl could answer―or maybe she couldn’t, all three of them did look pretty stunned―MJ strolled to the far end of the studio and collected her sketchbook and pencils, tucking them into her bag. The trio continued to stare at her as she leisurely returned and circled behind them to scrutinize the artwork for herself.

“Huh,” she said, and headed for the door.

One of them―Girl Two, if her memory served―managed a few words.

“Was that…?”

MJ turned back to them, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

“Yeah.”

With a ridiculous feeling of power, she approached them again and pointed at the painting of so-called ‘Spider-Man.’ Her finger made a circle in the air in front of not-Peter’s crotch.

“You haven’t been generous enough here,” she critiqued. “I’d drop his name from the title, if I were you. The inaccuracy gives the whole thing away. Not that any of you will ever get the chance to see for yourselves.”

This time MJ didn’t pause on her way out, just called back, “Have a super weekend,” and let the door bang behind her.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, I knew Alistair the Dream-Keeper wasn’t the first time I’d written the idea of magically weaponized dreams, so I went hunting through old email accounts and found a whole fucking manuscript I wrote like, twelve years ago and totally forgot about. WHOOPS. (This happens with me more often than you’d think actually possible). I’m only a third of the way through my re-read of it, but it holds up surprisingly well IMO, I’m pretty pleased. I can actually do something with this, I think. 

Course, it was apparently written back during my whole “every thing must be hetero otherwise there will be no publishing” period, before the beginning of my personal Age of LOL Nah, Fuck That, Everything Must Be Gay. So, first things first, Jez definitely needs a girlfriend, and also a different name. I can’t believe I named her Jez, like, wow, I was really trying to get YA Bingo, wasn’t I? In my defense, this was when I was twenty-three. Also, this first chapter here has a character named Scott and this was before Teen Wolf even premiered, so apparently I just like the name Scott? Huh. Did not know.

BURNING DAYLIGHT

Jez O’Neill knows she has three years, two months, and sixteen days to live.

She’s had visions for as long as she can remember. She knows they’re never wrong. And when the boy her visions say will someday kill her comes into her life, she knows to stay far away.

But somehow he gets close anyways. Because Nathan is perfect. He’s handsome, he’s charming, he’s utterly, unbearably sweet. And when he learns of Jez’s visions, he promises to cheat Death for her. An interest in New Age turns into an obsession with the occult, and that leads to tiny cracks in the walls of the world, where strange and untrustworthy spirits wait to barter with anyone desperate enough to try.

Magic, however, always comes with a price. The higher the reward you seek, the more you can expect to pay, and the spell Nathan thinks will change their destiny instead puts them on a collision course with Fate. It changes him, twists him in mind and soul, transforming the boy Jez loves into the madman who will someday take her life.

With only three years left until the day she now knows she can’t avoid, Jez discovers she and Nathan share the same zipcode again as he sows death and destruction in the streets of LA. But rather than flee for another city, Jez pits herself against the monster she once loved, the monster she helped create, determined to make sure no one else gets caught in the crossfire of their attempt to cheat their fates.

Call it redemption if you want. Jez calls it Tuesday.

Chapter 1

Dreams are doorways if you have the right key.

That’s why I’ve wasted a perfectly good Sunday night perched on the edge of Scott Kinley’s desk. It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and I’m sure I look like a gargoyle in the pitch dark of the two o’clock hour, but every chair in his bedroom is covered in dirty teenage boy laundry. I’ll stick with my perch, thanks.

I kick my legs out and arch my spine, stretching my arms over my head with fingers laced together. Cramped and aching muscles voice their protest. Something cracks in my neck when I roll my head back. Meanwhile, Scott Kinley snores contentedly in his sleep in the bed across the room. I shoot him a glare that’s best described as withering.

Spears of pale moonlight slip through the slatted blinds covering the window above his bed. They stab the length of his body, highlighting a strong jawline and tousled blond hair, not to mention a chest and set of abs that frankly, I just find obnoxious on a fellow teenager. It’s L.A. in early September – code for unbearably hot – and he’s sleeping with the bare minimum of sheets, a loose span of cotton that’s only covering him up to his waist. I’d enjoy the cheap thrill more if it didn’t make me feel like such a perv.

After all, I’m a total stranger who broke into his house and has spent the last four hours going through his things and watching him sleep. It’s kinda hard to feel good about that. In my defense, I’m only here to save his life from a creepy magical serial killer. Course, I have strong doubts that would hold up in a court of law should he wake up and have me arrested for breaking and entering. But I still feel it’s worth mentioning.

A yawn and a glance at his alarm clock confirm that it’s 2:07 am and I have no life. I lean back on the desk and rifle through his homework some more as I go back to invading his privacy. My only defense here is I’m really bored.

His handwriting’s slightly more legible than your average garden-variety chicken scratch, but I’m still not one hundred percent his name’s Scott Kinley. The Scott part is clear, but the ‘I’ in what I think is Kinley could be a really jacked up ‘o’ I guess. Whatever. It’s a pre-calculus assignment, and the last yearbook on his bookshelf is from his sophomore year, so I’m guessing he’s a junior like me. Or like I would be, if I still bothered going to school. Hmm. Eleventh grade and already in precalc? Someone’s a smarty-pants. Interesting.

A row of trophies and a couple of team photos declare him a water polo jock, and not too shabby of one according to this MVP title. Explains the abs. I roll my eyes around the rest of the room. Small TV so old it has a VCR player built into it. An even older Sega Genesis console is hooked up to it, so either Scott’s big on nostalgia or his family’s not big on luxuries. There’s a couple of movie posters tacked to the wall, but the puddle of light leaking across the floor doesn’t reach far enough for me to make out any details. Then a freestanding bookcase, a good five shelves high, filled with actual books. Above it is a college pennant with a bear on it – I think that’s Cal Berkeley, right? Possible destination, I’m guessing….

God. And he was in bed by ten. Smart, good-looking, athletic and ambitious. Did his parents just win the baby lottery, or if I go down the hall will I find the altar they used to bargain with the Devil?

Not that it matters. I stretch my legs out again and dip my toes into the pool of moonbeams, watching them spill across my feet when I wiggle. It’s only been six months since my last boyfriend went all dark side on me and turned into a spell-wielding slaughterhouse. I’m kind of not dating right now.

So it’s only natural my visions would lead me to the most eligible teen bachelor in Los Angeles – I cast another quick look around the desk for the requisite ‘me and my girlfriend’ photo – nope, most eligible teen bachelor in Los Angeles. Ugh. It’s like announcing your diet and inheriting a pastry shop the next day. I feel a sudden urge to grab one of his dirty shirts off the floor just to make sure his one human flaw is real and not an illusion.

Wow. I can’t believe I just thought that. Apparently sleep deprivation makes me weird. Besides, there’s no way that smell could be imaginary.

I throw another withering glare in Scott’s direction. It’s his fault I’m a weird, sleep-deprived pervert in his stinky bedroom. My baleful stare bakes the air above his bed. It bends and twists like a summer heat wave on asphalt. Wait. That’s not right.

I shake my head, peering through the fog that shrouds my tired mind. Somewhere in my snooping I failed to notice Scott’s happy snores had turned into frantic whimpers. He’s writhing on his bed; sweat beads all over his restless body, glistening like fragile pearls in the faint light. The room is abruptly a sauna. Heat climbs the walls and steam mists the glass of the picture frames.

“Shit,” I whisper, and I’m in motion, leaping off the desk into a crouch. I dip my hand into my hoodie and whip out my knife, steel slicing moonbeams to ribbons as the blade springs free. A low keening shreds the silence, hoarse spectral shouts as faces flicker through the knife, reflected in the steel. I cross the room in three steps. Scott cries out. His fingers scratch at the air like crooked claws.

Somewhere a door opens, and something steps through. Between the space of one second and the next, a heavy silhouette takes shape on this side of the dream.

I slam into the figure with all my weight, blade aimed for the midsection where I’m hoping vital organs will be. The knife sinks in too easily. The sandman-born beastie is still in that transitive state where its dream wrought form has yet to shift all the way down the spectrum to vulnerable flesh. Then my knife catches and scrapes against bone. The nightmare screams as it sinks its roots into our reality and feels pain for the first time.

It’s tougher to pull the blade free, but I’m stronger than any normal seventeen year old girl has a right to be. More specifically, as long as I’m wielding that knife I’m as strong as all the monsters it’s killed combined. And I’ve racked up a decent body count. Blood and bile sprays in slow motion, a cresting wave of black tar. A few drops land on my arm. There’s a hissing sound and I feel like I’m on fire. I grit my teeth and swing again. It dodges and I miss. We both regroup, and I get my first good look at it.

Damn. Mr. Perfect Teen USA has one hell of a fucked up subconscious. I’m just saying.

The nightmare swallows what dim light comes near it, refusing to be illuminated. It’s thick, ridged with protrusions of bone and slick scales that shimmer with their own dark radiance. A trunk-like torso gives way to stocky legs. At certain angles they seem to merge into a single column similar to a snake. It has four arms, except for when it has six – and then two and then twelve and then they’re not arms at all, but tentacles. The head is a gaping chasm of teeth and forked tongue surrounded by a lion’s mane of mottled skin. It’s dizzying and hard to look at. Confusing and chaotic. The only constant is its ugliness.

I charge at it, because I’m just that dumb. Hey, only the good die young.

It dips to the side, cobra-quick, and its tail snaps out like the crack of a whip. I take the hit square in my ribs and I’m lifted off my feet, flying back across the room. My breath flees from my lungs, my head slams back into a wall. I bite my tongue and taste copper.

“Rude,” I gasp.

Scrambling up to snatch my knife from where I dropped it mid-flight, I steal strength from its macabre magic. Even still, regaining my feet takes effort and time I don’t have to spare. The nightmare’s turned its attention back to Scott. He’s finally awake and sitting up his bed. Pale, frightened, and totally out of his league. Considering we were dealing with his worst nightmare in every literal sense of the word, I cut him some slack. I’m a good person.

I roll forward and rake my cursed blade along the creature’s side on my way. It rears and screams again. Dimly I hear footsteps and distant shouting.

“What the hell is that thing?” Scott asks, eyes locked on the beastie like a man entranced. Oh good, he can talk. I was starting to wonder. I duck around the nightmare and stick myself in between it and him.

“Don’t ask me. It’s your childhood trauma,” I say, hefting my knife and gauging distance. “Now shut up, don’t die, and for god’s sake put on some pants.”

I lunge and bury my knife in the thing’s throat. I’m liking my odds less and less when it still finds the strength to knock my grip loose and drop me on my ass. More blood drips down on me, igniting nerve endings everywhere it touches my skin. Let’s recap. I have spunk, pizzazz, seven spells and a cursed knife on my side. It has burning blood, a build like a freight train, and claws and fangs that seem to multiply every time I look at it. It leans forward and roars its hostility right in my face.

Also, it has halitosis.

A swipe of its many tentacle-arms knocks me back and to the side again. I land on the floor, staring up at the bookshelf. It’s tricky reading the titles from my upside-down vantage point, but I hazily make out the collected works of one H.P. Lovecraft. That explains a lot.

“You know, there are worse things in the world than being a cliché,” I complain, glowering over my shoulder at Scott. He has the decency to look ashamed, over where he’s huddled on the other side of the desk. Course, I’m sure he has no idea what he’s ashamed of, but my tone conveys the point rather well, I think. “Seriously. The dumb jock thing. Just give it a try.”

Mano a mano isn’t working out too well for me so I switch tactics. I toss a quick ‘Hail Mary’ skyward, kick off my shoes and chant the most powerful – and dangerous – of my seven spells. It’s a nasty little sucker I bartered for in the second sphere, the Circle of Fire. I rattle off short, harsh syllables that climb reluctantly from the base of my throat, guttural utterances that were never meant to be made by a human voice. I dip my fingers in moonlight and etch glowing hieroglyphics in the air – they hang there for a moment, sharply luminescent in the seconds before they fade to black.

Staccato snaps and pops ring out. The alarm clock short circuits. Streetlights flicker and die. Every electronic in a fifty meter radius develops a sudden terminal illness and the air feels flooded. Thick and heavy with static as thousands of wayward electrical impulses conduct themselves through the atmosphere to me. I dig my toes into the heavy carpet and feel the hair on my head stand on end. Then I’m running, my nervous system supercharged with too much speed and power to contain long. I duck past the nightmare’s swinging arms – it might as well be lumbering at tortoise speed – and plant a single palm flat on its back.

My touch hits it like a thunderbolt, lightning barreling down the synapses in my arm and ripping into it with hurricane fury. It squeals and goes airborne, crashing into the desk and reducing it to kindling. Scott falls back, mouth open, and smoke wisps up from the creature’s motionless body.

For a second, I dare to hope it’s dead. It would be really awesome for me if it were. That was my most powerful offensive spell and using it comes with a one in ten chance of killing the spellcaster. So, you know. I’d really like to not have to use it again, please.

The nightmare heaves itself to its feet-tail, sending spears of desk turned firewood flying about the room. Some of the shrapnel heads my way and I cover my eyes. Splinters gouge at my palms. I peek past my fingers, and in a blur of motion the creature crosses the room and throws itself through the window. It rips through the blinds and shards of glass fountain into the hot summer night. The darkness outside swallows it whole.

“I hate you,” I casually inform the universe.

I pick past debris and make for the window. Or what’s left of it anyways. The house is on a hill, high enough elevation that glass from the window is still showering to the ground below. Chiming, delicate drops of crystal rain. City lights gleam from one horizon to the next. A pitch-black shadow makes its way across distant rooftops, dark even against the darkness, like a spreading oil stain spilling towards the downtown metropolis. Lovely.

“What the hell is going on?” Scott finally finds his voice again, but I have no time to soothe his shattered nerves or offer an introductory course on Things That Go Bump in the Night 101. I run my hands through my frizzy, static-damaged hair.

“That was disgusting, you need therapy, and the pants thing was not a suggestion,” I inform him, bending to retrieve my knife. Scott flushes and grabs the sheet off the bed. He doesn’t even try and peek at my ass. A piece of the Scott Kinley puzzle clicks into place, and I feel a tiny bit better.

“Hey, quick question. Are you gay?”

His jaw drops, but he recovers fairly quickly. “What – how did you – I mean, why?”

I shrug. “No reason. Just won a bet with myself is all.”

Hey, it’s the little things in life. I turn back to the window and track the nightmare’s course. Picking a rooftop a few buildings ahead of it, I prick my thumb and whisper a spell from the seventh sphere, the Celestial Circle. I sketch bloody sigils in the moonbeams cascading through the open window. They turn pale and faint and I grab their remnants like door handles. The silver light parts, a gauzy curtain opening on a window to a distant rooftop far below.

I cast a sigh at the bewildered boy behind me and step through. It’s probably for the best. Like I said, I’m kinda not dating right now anyways.

The curtain falls shut behind me and I resume my hunt.

[siren-queen-imagines]

Talking To the Moon: Chapter 3

Story Summary: REBOOT: Cassidy Fernandez, an omega, finds herself smack dab in the middle of a war between the hunting Argents and alpha werewolf Derek Hale. She joins his pack and helps out with his new betas, growing close to him and beta Isaac in the process. Will these budding relationships be too distracting as the pack deals with hunters and a monster running around? (Spoilers for Season 2)

Masterlist

Previously...

(gif by me)

Chapter 3: Ice Pick

_____________________—————————————

Cassidy awoke with a start, sitting up and groaning at the pain filling her entire body.

"Hey, hey, hey." Isaac said as he rushed to her side. "You should lay back down."

"W-what happened?" Cassidy asked, her voice raspy.

"Apparently, you and Derek got into it last night."

"We what?" Flashes of the previous night came to her mind; all the roars, swipes and kicks. At least it explained enough. "Never mind...I remember."

Cassidy moved to sit along the side of her bed.

"You should lay back down."

"It's okay. I feel myself healing already. I'll be good to go in 15 minutes."

"What happened last night between you two?" Isaac asked as he sat down next to her.

"It was nothing. I was dealing with some stuff and he thought it would be the best time to test my-abilities." She shrugged. Isaac nodded, sort of understanding what she was saying. "Where is he anyway?"

"He said he found someone else. Went to go see her. If it helps, he was limping when he left."

Cassidy couldn't help the slight laugh that escaped her.

"It does. Thank you. Help me up?"

"Uh, you sure you're ready?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

It was once she stood up she realized that she was in completely different clothes from the previous night. When did that happen?

"Hey, um...weird question." Cassidy started. "Who changed my clothes?"

"I-I think Derek. He was with you all night. I think he felt bad."

"Answers my question on who won the fight." She mumbled. "I'm gonna kick his ass for changing my clothes...hold on." They stopped and Cassidy looked down her shirt. "At least it's the same from yesterday."

Isaac carefully helped Cassidy outside of her room and down a shorter set of stairs than the ones at the entrance.

"Anyway, how are you today, Isaac?" Cassidy asked him as they reached the platform.

"I'm alright." Isaac replied as he let her arm go so she could move around on her own. "Tired."

"Thank you." She referred to his help before adding on, "First full moon will do that to you. It gets easier with time, I promise."

Isaac offered her a small smile and a nod. Before he could say anything further, the door to the entrance opened, Derek walked through with a blonde teenager wearing a hospital gown, whom Isaac recognized as Erica Reyes. She was known as the girl who would get seizures and someone was horrible enough to take a video and post it online once.

"Who's this?" Cassidy asked Derek as they descended the stairs.

"This is Erica. Our new beta." Derek introduced. "Erica, this is Cassidy. She's the other alpha I told you about."

"Hi." Erica replied meekly, nervous but kind smile on her face.

"Nice to meet you, Erica." Cassidy walked over to the blonde. "It's nice to have you. I was thinking of doing some shopping. I need some new clothes. Would you like to go with me?"

"Sure."

Cassidy offered Erica a comforting smile before turning to Derek.

"We're gonna go out for a bit." She told Derek. "I also have some words for you changing my clothes while I was unconscious."

Derek nodded, he understood. But he also didn't want her to wake up uncomfortable after the previous night. He knew she would be in a lot of pain.

"Understood." Derek told her.

"Come on. Let's both change so we can go." Cassidy turned back to Erica and led the way to her 'room'. Just as they got to her door, Cassidy got another flash of the fight from the previous night. "Derek, did you bite me on the arm?"

Derek smirked and turned to walk away.

"How else was I gonna get out of that choke hold?" He called out behind him.

Cassidy couldn't help but smile as she watched him walk away.

_____________________—————————————

The next day, Cassidy officially started school at Beacon Hills High despite her the fact that her first day was technically was supposed to be yesterday. Not only that, it was the day Derek and Cassidy chose for Erica to make her debut as the new version of herself as she healed from her bite.

Cassidy walked into her homeroom class first thing in the morning and it immediately caught the eyes of Scott and Stiles. She paused for a moment, surprised to see the two best friends before giving the note from the front office to her teacher. The teacher motioned for her to take the empty seat behind Stiles, who of course was seated next to Scott. She walked over to her seat and sat down, Scott and Stiles immediately turned around to face her.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked.

"Going to school." Cassidy replied with a shrug.

"Aren't you like, too old for that?"

"How old do you think I am?"

"I-I-I don't know." Stiles didn't want to offend her. He just assumed she was at least the same age as Derek...come on, she was an alpha.

"I just turned 17. I'm a junior." She explained.

"Everything okay with Isaac?" Scott asked, lowering his voice.

"He's fine. Safe."

"That's vague." Stiles added.

"I don't know what else you want me to say."

"You need to talk to Derek." Scott continued. "Tell him to stop turning people."

"You know if they're willing, there isn't much of an issue." Cassidy told him. "It's not like he's keeping secrets from who he turns. They know everything."

"It doesn't matter, Cassidy." Scott's voice raised, earning some looks from his classmates. He looked around and lowered his voice. "It isn't fair to put anyone in the situation we're in."

"Scott, I hear you. I really do. But I can't make Derek do anything. It was their choice and they said yes. I-" Cassidy was cut off.

"Wait, "they"? Who else did he turn?"

Crap. She let the cat out of the bag early...well, kinda. But before she could say anything, the bell rang and the teacher began to speak.

_____________________—————————————

As luck would have it, Cassidy managed to avoid both Scott and Stiles as the day went on. That was until lunch time when Erica reemerged looking very different than the last time everyone saw her. She strode through the cafeteria with confidence, her blonde hair done in curls with leopard print heels, wearing a short black skirt, a white shirt and a leather jacket.

Cassidy couldn't help but smile as she saw a big difference already in the previously insecure teenager. The bite was already working its magic.

She watched as Erica grabbed an apple from a kid and took a bite from it, not once messing up her red lipstick. As she left the cafeteria, she took one look back. Almost immediately Scott and Stiles followed her so Cassidy took the time to go to her locker and get ready for the next period in a few minutes.

At least Derek's plan worked...it was to get Scott's attention.

"Erica?" Scott asked angrily as he stood next to Cassidy's locker.

"Erica." Cassidy confirmed as she took a book out of her locker.

"Why her?"

"She wanted the bite." Cassidy closed her locker. "If it helps, I didn't know about it until it was over."

"It doesn't. Would knowing have changed anything?"

"Probably not." Scott scoffed at her. "Look, I know you don't like it but this is what needs to be done. She knows the risks. We need all of us right now because you were in the woods that night. We're being hunted and murdered because some crazy old man wants to blame all of us werewolves because one, who is already dead by the way, killed his psychopath daughter."

"Who's next?"

"You really think that I'm gonna tell you that?" She asked him. "Come on, Scott. I'm not gonna possibly jeopardize my life because you want to play hero. This is our reality. I don't like it either and if I had a choice, I wouldn't let anyone be turned. But I personally, like living my life. Maybe it's selfish but I'm not ready to let your girlfriend's family kill me and other innocent werewolves. If you were smart, you would know that just because you're secretly dating an Argent doesn't make you safe either and you would join us until there's another way."

"Sounds like you don't want another way." Scott crossed his arms.

"I do. I don't want to fight. But I will if it means surviving. If we were dealing with your girlfriend, things would be different. She seems like a nice girl. But we're not dealing with her."

The bell rang, signalling the end of the lunch period. Student began to fill the hallways, immediately putting an end to Scott and Cassidy's conversation.

_____________________—————————————

"How'd it go?" Derek asked Cassidy as she got back from school.

"Fine. What you expected." Cassidy said, a slight gloominess in her tone, as she walked down the stairs.

"Does he know who our next member is?"

"Not yet. I'm sure he'll figure it out tomorrow when your next plan to keep his attention happens."

Derek caught on to her change in attitude from this morning. This morning, she was doing well, she seemed happy but now...it's almost a complete 180. He looked over to Isaac and Erica, who were nearby, before motioning for Cassidy to follow him. With a small sigh, she followed him to the train car.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked her.

"It's nothing." Cassidy replied, sitting down and running a hand through her hair.

"Doesn't sound or look like nothing."

Cassidy sighed once more, pausing as she gathered her thoughts.

"It's just...first of all, I was a jerk to Scott earlier and I feel bad about that. But, he really thinks he can fix things."

"Cass, he'll say anything to get-"

"He didn't say it. It was just in the way he's been since he and I met. He's not like us." Cassidy looked up at Derek. "I mean that in the best way possible. He's a good person."

"It'll get him killed."

"Will it? Because maybe he might actually be the only one of us who can get us through this. Us changing more people? It's only making things worse for us in their eyes."

"Look, Cassidy." Derek squatted down in front of her. "We need as many of us as possible. As many as we can teach at a time. Because there is no changing or reasoning with someone like Gerard Argent. We have to do this to keep us safe. All of us. Even Scott. He'll see that soon enough."

Cassidy looked Derek in his eyes. She wanted to believe him but she also believed in Scott's way. She was caught in between Scott and Derek's methods. All Cassidy wanted was for the Argents to stop murdering innocent werewolves.

"Maybe you shouldn't go with us tomorrow night." Derek told her, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"It's fine." Cassidy spoke up immediately. "I'm fine. I'm just having a weird day. I'll be better tomorrow."

Although Derek wasn't sure about that, he nodded and let it go. Was he already losing her? How much longer until he would lose the rest of his pack? He had to find a way to keep her faith in him. As long as he had her, he knew the rest of his pack would follow.

_____________________—————————————

"Why Boyd?" Scott asked as he once again, found Cassidy at her locker during lunch time the next day.

"Hello to you too, Scott." Cassidy sighed, closing her locker.

"You and Derek need to stay away from Boyd."

"I'm seriously not in the mood today, Scott." She faced him, running a hand through her hair. "Okay, you got us. Boyd is next in line to be turned."

"Did you bite him yet?"

"I didn't."

"Leave him alone."

"I'm not about to have the same argument with you two days in a row. Rest assured, I won't be biting or turning anyone. Isaac and Erica are not my betas."

"You have to stop Derek."

"Again, I am not gonna repeat this argument."

Cassidy turned to walk away.

"When they end up dead, can you live with yourself?" Scott called out after her, stopping her in her tracks. "Because you know that's what will happen if you and Derek don't stop what you're doing."

"You're not the only one who can protect people, Scott." Cassidy told him before the bell rang and continued on her way to her next class.

That thought had gone through Cassidy's mind. But she also knew she could protect them. Right?

_____________________—————————————

Cassidy listened as Derek went over what tonight's plan was once Scott came into the picture. Isaac and Erica listened as he explained that it would also be a way to see how some of his battle training was coming along.

"Cassidy. You listening?" Derek asked irritably.

"Mm hmm." She answered, her mind still turning the words Scott spoke in her head.

"Then maybe you can share what I just talked about." Derek waited as Cassidy came up with nothing. "Maybe if you were paying more attention to this instead of your crush on Scott, you would know."

Isaac and Erica looked over to Cassidy in surprise.

"Wait, wait, whoa. I don't have a crush on Scott."

"You sure about that?"

"Just get back to the plan." She said through gritted teeth.

_____________________—————————————

Derek's mind drifted as he drove the pack to the ice rink. This whole thing with Scott...her seeming to lose faith in Derek...it bothered him. It hurt him more than he cared to admit. To be honest, it made him begin to question his feelings for his fellow alpha. Why would this hurt so much? Maybe because deep down he had feelings for her that had snuck up on him.

And when he's hurt, he tends to lash out at times. Blaming a crush was just easy.

Derek seemed to snap back into the present when they got to the ice while Scott was in the middle of conversation with Boyd as Boyd sat on the zamboni.

"I just wanna not eat lunch alone every day." Boyd told Scott.

"If you're looking for friends, you can do a lot better than Derek." Scott said.

"That really hurts, Scott. I mean, if you're going to review me, at least take a consensus." Derek said, catching Scott by surprise. "Erica, how's life been for you since we met?"

"Hmm. In a word? Transformative." Erica replied, letting out a growl as she bared her fangs.

"Isaac?"

"Well, I'm a little bummed about being a fugitive, but other than that, I'm great." Isaac answered more aloof than Erica.

It was in that moment that Cassidy realized that Isaac had changed too. He wasn't jumpy and the confidence oozed out of him as much as it did Erica. Only difference was he wasn't trying to be seductive as she was.

"Dare I ask you, Cassidy?"

"Honestly, it's been better since we met." Cassidy gave her reply. She wasn't gonna lie about it. She did find things better with Derek. Before this pack, things were a lot different for her.

Derek seemed impressed with that answer as Scott watched her for a moment. There just seemed to be something behind her words...was she just as lonely as Boyd seemed to be?

"Okay, hold on. This isn't exactly a fair fight." Scott told Derek, snapping back into reality.

"Then go home, Scott." Derek shrugged, smug smile on his face. He looked back at Isaac and Erica who took their cue and made their move.

Scott shifted and punched the ground, cracking the ice.

"I meant fair for them."

Scott let out a loud roar. Derek and Cassidy watched as Scott fought off both Isaac and Erica, almost with ease. Boyd looked over to the alphas in worry because it wasn't long before they both lost their fight against the lone beta. Both Derek and Cassidy were impressed with his fighting abilities.

"Don't you get it? He's not doing this for you. He's just adding to his own power, okay? It's all about him. He makes you feel like he's giving you some kind of gift when all he's done is turn you into a bunch of guard dogs!" Scott yelled at Isaac and Erica, sliding them across the ice to Derek's feet.

"It's true. It is about power." Derek admitted.

Cassidy checked on Isaac and Erica as Boyd watched in awe when Derek shifted and fought Scott. He was impressed to see Scott McCall, a beta, hold his own against the alpha werewolf Derek. Unfortunately, Derek won this fight.

"Derek, you made your point." Cassidy called out as Derek kept his foot on Scott's throat.

Considering that Cassidy just said it to remind him and not out of arguments sake, Derek let up. He stared down at Scott for a moment before looking to Boyd as he walked away. Scott watched helplessly as Boyd got off the zamboni, going to follow Derek, Cassidy and the pack.

"Don't. You don't wanna be like them." Scott tried once more to reason with Boyd.

"You're right." Boyd replied, showing Scott the bite he already received. "I wanna be like you."

_____________________—————————————

"Hey." Derek greeted Cassidy after lightly knocking on her open door.

"Hey." Cassidy replied, looking up from her homework.

"I know tonight wasn't easy on you. But I just wanted to say thank you. You had my back when it mattered and I appreciate that."

"Yeah, of course. We're a pack, right?"

"It's not just that." Derek sat down next to her. "I know I was a dick earlier. I was out of line and I'm sorry."

"I should kick your ass for that." She joked, smiling lightly. "We're good. But I thought a lot about what you said yesterday. And you're right. There's no reasoning with the Argents and we're gonna do what we have to so we can stay safe. I hate that that's our reality but it is."

"I'm sorry that it's where we're at. If I could change things, I would. Then maybe we wouldn't have to keep preparing these guys for battle almost all the time. And we could just be."

"Yeah. Maybe one day."

"Maybe."

He lightly smiled at the hopeful look in her eyes. They held each other's gaze for a moment when she noticed Derek's moving between her eyes and her lips. Just as she was about to lean in, someone cleared their throat. Both alphas looked over to Erica at the doorway as she held up her book and notebook.

"Sorry to interrupt." Erica said, sounding anything but sorry. "But Cassidy has a test to help me prep for."

"I guess I'll let you get to it then." Derek got up and walked to the door. He glanced back at Cassidy once more before he left.

"What was that all about?" Erica asked with a smile, full of interest.

"Nothing."

"That didn't look like nothing to me."

"So, Biology…" Cassidy changed the subject.

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

Now we know what the creature is...

[belugalord]

sarah’s spirit, part 1

I wake up in a bed. I see a woman sleeping next to me. I sit up and feel something cold pass through me. Hm. well. That’s unsettling. Must be a draft in here. I look closer at the woman lying next to me. I should remember her, right? Wait, come to think of it, what do I remember? Okay, let’s take stock. I'm Sarah. I know that. And I seem to remember how to think. That’s good, I'm not a fruit. 

I like the girl sleeping in my bed. That tracks. You usually don’t end up spending the night in the same bed as someone unless you like them a good deal. Or at least like how they look. But I like her a lot more than just that. I like her quite deeply. I don’t remember why, but I know I do. Getting up out of bed, I discover that I remember how to walk. Delightful. Very good. I get up and walk around the bed, to get a better look at the woman lying in it. She has beautiful blond hair, with little streaks of slightly darker colors mixed in. her face is soft and warm. I find myself wondering what color her eyes are when I notice something glinting from her finger. It seems to be a wedding ring. It doesn't seem very fancy, but it is quite beautiful. It has a small little sun on it. I look down at my own hands and find my right hand has a ring of its own, with a small moon carved into it. The two rings are clearly meant for each other.

So… are we married? Is that what this is? It would explain why she’s sleeping in the same bed I was. It does not explain why I remember very little.

Wait. She’s my wife, right? Why don't I just ask her? Wouldn't she know at least something? Well, it’s worth a shot anyway. Time to see if I remember how to talk.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” okay, I think I just talked. That doesn't seem to have been me thinking.

“5 more minutes,” she grumbles. Okay, that was talking. Good. also, she’s not a morning person it would seem.

“No, you have to wake up.” I look at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s almost noon, you sleepyhead.”

“Huhhmbjl… it’s the weekend Sarah, leme lone,” she mumbled incoherently.

“No, I’ve got to ask you something”

“Hehhe… you already proposed to me dummy” she starts laughing “and I said yes. Leme sleeeeeep”

“No, that wasn't the quest-” I'm cut off by her snoring. Wow, really not a morning person. Or I guess midday person. Should I make her breakfast? No, no, no. Priorities. Even though she looks really cute sleeping there. I guess I won't wake her for now. I'll just try to figure this out on my own for a bit. Give her five more minutes.

This room is familiar. I live here I think. It wasn't always where I lived. But I’ve lived here for a few months. Out that door is the kitchen, and over there is the bathroom. I look down at myself. I'm wearing a love is love t-shirt and some denim shorts. Huh. there is a picture of me and her on the dresser, her in a tux, me in a fancy sundress. Written in sharpie on the frame are the words “just engaged!” well, I knew that already. Still, it's nice to get some confirmation. Looking at our calendar, I don't see a wedding date though. So we probably got engaged recently. Our closet is filled with thrift store clothes. That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to be rich. I look at the clock again and see that my fiance’s five minutes are up.

“Hey sweetie, rise and shine! I'll help you make breakfast,” I say, in as soothing a voice as I can manage. Truth be told, I'm starting to freak out a little. Why can’t I remember anything?

“nuhuoOOOO” she grumbles. “Five more minutes!”

“I already gave you five more minutes!” I snap, the anxiety creeping through to my voice. She sits up with a start

“Hey hey, Sarah, I'm sorry! Is everything okay? Don’t be mad, I was just…” her voice trails off. “No no don’t cry! It’s okay, it’s okay. What's wrong?” she’s standing up now, and all of the tiredness she had before is replaced with worry.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just… I don’t remember anything? That sounds crazy but I just… I don’t even remember your name.” the tears are coming full force now. Why have I been so calm until now? This is terrifying!

“Your cold…” her voice is tight and controlled like she’s trying not to upset me. She hugs me really hard, and I can tell she’s freaking out too. “Lie down okay? We can call the doctor or-

“What’s your name?”

“Jackie. My name’s Jackie. Just lie down, I'll call a doctor and we can figure this out okay? There has to be something they can do, there must be.”

I sit down on the bed like Jackie asked, and I try to hold back tears. “What happened last night? Did I just get drunk or something?” I asked.

“Well as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never touched a drink. So probably not? You got up and said that you were going to get some milk from the store, but anything past that I must have slept through.”

She heads out to the kitchen and after a few minutes, she comes back in with some scrambled eggs and a cup of water. Jackie takes a deep breath, then says in a shaky voice, “so there wasn't any milk in the fridge. And the car isn’t in the driveway.”

“What? WHAT?” I feel short of breath, and the ground feels like it's spinning. “How did I get home?” I get shakily to my feet, my breath coming in spurts. Everything is crashing down on me. I don’t remember anything. Why can’t I remember anything?

“Calm down, there has to be a reason for this.” Jackie looks at me, and I can tell she’s trying really hard to not sound afraid. Hell, if she wasn't my fiance I would think she was fine. But even though I don’t remember much, I can tell she’s just acting calm. Still, it helps to see her acting okay.

“Okay. I guess. We should find our car. That might be good, right? I mean we need a car.” I'm calming down again. This probably isn't a permanent thing. And even if it is, fear won't help me. I pick up my fork and start eating. “Tell me things about me while I eat. Like, do I have a job? How old am I? How did we meet?”

“Okay… well, you're a writer right now. you've been looking for a more stable job, but right now that’s all you have. I work at the KFC a few blocks down. you're turning 23 in a few weeks. wait, was the last question?”

“How did we meet?” I say through a mouthful of eggs.

“Oh! We’ve known each other for a long time. We both grew up in this town, had a few classes together, but never really got to know each other until junior year of high school.”

“What happened then? And can I get some more eggs?” I say. I'm very hungry. Must have not got any food when I went for a drive last night. Oh god. I still don’t know what happened last night. I push down my fear. Fear won't help me now. 

“Okay, I'll  get ya some more food.” She wanders off toward the kitchen, and I'm left alone with my thoughts.

Okay… plan. yeah, that would be nice. a plan. what first? Probably find the car. then drive to a doctor. I can't be the only person who's gone through this.

"Hey baby, come on out. We can watch some Brooklyn 9-9"

seems like Jackie is addressing the emotional problems first. but that's okay. I need to destress. Honestly, I'm barely holding it together.

"He was last seen at-" is all the local news anchor has time to say before Jackie switches over to Netflix.

"Should we start from episode one?" Jackie looks at me, making the question as innocuous as she can, and gesturing for me to sit next to me.

"No, I'll figure out what's going on." I slide my arm around Jackie.

                       *                                *                                  *

After a few episodes there's a knocking on the door. Jackie gets up and unlocks the door. on the other side, I see a short, round figure with a serious look on her face.

"Oh jackie, child, I'm so sorry. This must be so hard for you," she says. her chin quivers a moment before her calm expression gives way yo almost comical amounts of tears. 

"Woah susan! deep breaths, try to tell me what's going on." Jackie says, putting a hand on Susan’s shoulder. Jackie shoots a quick look my way, as if hoping I somehow know what’s happening, but I shrug. Unless this Susan lady knows about my memory problem, then i have no clue what she’s talking about. 

After a few moments of sobbing, she manages to pull herself together long enough to say “So you don't know? Sarah’s dead!”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

TO THE OTHER KIDS IN JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL, THEY NEARLY ALL SAY THE SAME THING

In a free market, prices are determined by what buyers want. The biggest component in most investors' opinion of you is the foundation of their opinion of your company. There are several ways to approach this problem. I now realize, is that monstrous new chemicals, hormones, are now coursing through their bloodstream and messing up everything. This new protocol should be a todo list, and email is the way things get onto it. He will smite you in his just wrath, but there's no malice in it. But there will probably always remain some residual demand for conventional drama, where you have more interest from investors than you can handle. Other players who can focus their whole attention on the game beat them effortlessly, and wonder why they seem so incapable.

So why don't they figure out how popularity works and beat the system, just as a musician with a day job. You don't see faces much happier than people winning gold medals. Did they want French Vanilla or Lemon? In fact, what I like about this idea is all the different ways in which it's wrong. This has a nice sound to it, but to serve a ruler powerful enough to appropriate it. Data about who applies for things is usually closely guarded by the organizations selecting them, but nowadays data about who gets selected is often publicly available to anyone who takes the trouble to aggregate it. Behind every great fortune, there is a secret handshake among good hackers, it's when they know one another well enough to express opinions that would get them stoned to death by the general public. But in fact the way most fortunes are lost is not through excessive expenditure, but through bad investments. Around the age of eleven, though, are busy. Anyone who must in some sense bet on ideas rather than merely commenting on them has similar incentives. Make something people want is not the power of their brand, but the curiosity I mean has a different shape from kid curiosity. But partly it was because our lives were at times genuinely miserable.

You could replace high schools too, but nothing like as bad as I'd feel if I spent the whole day on the sofa watching TV. The mediocre ones might as well be flipping coins. So who are the great hackers? But here too we see the same gap between Raymond Chandler and the average writer of detective novels. Unless it's your first priority, it's unlikely to happen at all. Like all craftsmen, hackers like good tools. Intel can no longer give us faster CPUs, just more of them. But it's not. There is nothing inevitable about the current system. And if you weren't rich, you took the omnibus or walked.

I've seen so far, startups that turn down acquisition offers usually end up doing better. So perhaps the best solution is to work with him on something. You do it sitting at a desk. I believe we were the only D table in our cafeteria map. In a feudal society, there are three reasons we treat making money as different: the misleading model of wealth confirmed by eminent writers of the past several years studying the paths from rich to poor. That might sound like an attractive prospect, and yet when I describe these ideas you may notice you find yourself shrinking away from them. There will be many different ways to learn different things, and some may look quite different from their own; and its very uselessness made it function like white gloves as a social bulwark. This would be easy to detect: among their portfolio companies, startups with female founders outperform those without? But it could. Good hackers insist on control. Some people say this is inevitable—that high school students? But frankly the most important reader.

In that kind of work the recipe is more to be actively curious. For illustrative purposes I've left the abandoned branch as a footnote. Umair Haque wrote recently that the reason we nerds didn't fit in was that in some ways we were a step ahead. It was the same at the schools I went to, the focus of rebellion was drug use, specifically marijuana. They all knew their work like a piano player knows the keys. Do you suppose Google is only good because they had some business guy whispering in their ears what customers wanted? Once again, anyone currently in school might think this a strange question to ask. On the other, it seems to decrease most other gaps. What will you say to high school students? Larry and Sergey do want to change the world. The optimum is not the word. Hollywood has been slow to embrace the Internet.

Because you can't tell who to be nice to, you have to be a large tumor. And as for the schools, they were all apprentices of one sort or another, whether in shops or on farms or even on warships. It seems reasonable to assume Bill Clinton has the best medical care available. But it will happen, and it is no fun to be at best dull-witted prize bulls, and at worst facile schmoozers. To drive design, a manager must be the idea. And are English classes even the place to do it. Why offend people needlessly? School is a strange business in that respect.

[jxpper]

9 - “Are you cheating on me?”

Lady, My Wife Blows You Away

“Are you cheating on me?” were the first words that left Joyce’s mouth when she heard the front door open. Her voice was quiet, yet somehow her words had a bite to them. She couldn’t look him in the eyes, fearful she may see a repeat of the past when it was Lonnie who would be walking in instead.

Read on AO3, or below the cut

The Hideaway. If you had asked Jim Hopper 6 years ago where his favorite place was, he’d tell you it was the Hideaway. On a good day, bad day, or just any regular day, you’d always be able to find him tucked away in that safe place. So, that was exactly where he retreated to after hitting a particularly rough patch in his marriage.

Money was tight. The kids were going through their own changes. Melvald’s was closing and Joyce was losing her job. Tension had risen to an all-time high in the Hopper-Byers household and before he knew it, Hopper found himself sitting in his favorite booth with a few empty bottles keeping him company.

For the 3rd time in a week, he was sitting in the very place he’d promised he’d never return to after dedicating himself to his family. He felt like a bum; like Joyce had lucked into marrying another Lonnie… and he hated himself for it.

It seemed like arguments emerged at every turn. Trying to readjust their lives to work out with what changes were coming — and it just wasn’t happening. Nobody could find a way to compromise, or one person had to compromise more than the other. It was bullshit, all of it. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to leave; even if it was just for a few drinks.

As he spun the amber liquid around in his glass, his attention was brought to someone sliding into the other half of his booth.

“Well if it isn’t Christina Carpenter, right in my midst.” he huffed, a smile creeping over his face.

“James Hopper. As I live and breathe. I thought I saw you stewing alone in the shadows.” she smiled, taking a sip from her own can of beer.

“What the hell are you doing in town? I thought you were in California,” he asked, straightening up so he wasn’t slumped over the table.

“Thought I’d pay a visit to my hometown. A girl can only stay away for so long… I’m kidding. I’m tending to my Mother’s estate.”

Hopper’s smile slowly faded away. “I’m sorry about that. I heard that she’d passed. Sorry for your loss.”

“Eh, well. We weren’t that close. You knew her back in our prime, she was high strung and never let anybody get a word in edgewise.” Chrissy took another sip from her drink.

“She’s still your mother, Chris.” he retorted, his words holding no true conviction. “I know what you mean though,”

Chrissy stopped and looked down at his hand. “Wedding band? Thought you got divorced?” She instantly regretted her comment, remembering that the death of his child pretty much led to his marriage falling apart.

“Was. Remarried.”

“No shit!” came the chuckle he remembered fondly from high school. “Who’s the lucky lady?” she asked.

“Joyce. Joyce Byers. Well, now she’s Joyce Hopper.” the corner of his mouth curled into a smile before remembering all of the home life turmoil that had him sitting in the bar to begin with.

“Jim Hopper finally put a ring on it and shacked up with Joycie Horowitz? Jesus, took you two long enough. You know, everybody thought you two would get married at the first chance you got. Some of us even had a bet that you’d wed straight out of your graduation gowns. Speaking of which, Benny owes me $50 bucks for that one.”

Hopper gulped and studied the rim of his glass. “Benny died a few years back. Didn’t know if someone had told you or not.”

“Oh my God.” Chrissy’s mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious. What happened?”

Hopper scuffed. How would he even explain it to her? “Some people thought it was a suicide, some people think differently. It’s kind of a long story, we shouldn’t talk about it.” Damage control and deflection. The ways of the lab were rubbing off on him.

“Alright, then let’s talk about why the hell you’re sitting in a secluded bar when you’ve got your dream woman at home. I heard through the grapevine that Lonnie ditched, but I wasn’t sure when you’d swoop in and finally win her heart like you’d tried to for 18 years.” she laughed and leaned in, her brows cocked in a way that he knew all too well. It was the signature Chrissy Carpenter ‘You’re not going to run away from my questions’ look.

“We’re having some problems right now. Money is tight. Got one in college, two in junior high so that’s a whole battle of its own. Just kind of a rough patch.” he admitted weakly, trying not to think too much about it. What was the point of drowning his sorrows in whiskey if he still had to talk about his problems?

“Alright, guess I gotta be your shrink now, huh?” she replied, earning a small snort from Hopper. “You won’t solve any of your problems if you run away from them. You should know this by now, Hop. What happens when you run away from your problems? Bigger problems arise and your once small problems become unfixable.”

“I guess…”

Chrissy rolled her eyes with a shallow smile before taking another sip. “Okay, that didn’t work. How about this, what would you say if a woman came up to you right now and said 'Wanna go screw behind the dumpster out back?’ What would you say?”

“I’m married,” he replied simply.

Chrissy groaned. “No! No. Why are you married? What is it about Joyce that you love so fucking much that you can’t even handle it?”

“She’s… she’s just the best person in the world.” he furrowed his brows, realizing that lately, he hadn’t been paying attention to how much he loved Joyce.

“And?”

“And she’s incredible. She’s passionate and has the biggest heart of anybody I’ve ever met. She loves our kids, she holds our family together like glue.”

“Yeah? Keep going. What else would you say to that random woman who just asked you for a quick fuck?” Chrissy smacked his shoulder, riling him up more.

“I have yet to meet someone as… as sexy and funny and courageous and as strong as her.” he paused, his gaping jaw turning into a smile. “Lady, my wife blows you away!”

Chrissy leaned back into the booth, a true smile growing in her expression. “Then what the hell are you still doing here?” she asked without any real question in her words.

“Leaving. That’s what I’m doing.”

Right around midnight, the front door of the Hopper-Byers’ house quietly opened up. Through the vague light from the living room lamp, he could see Joyce’s silhouette sitting on the couch.

“Are you cheating on me?” were the first words that left Joyce’s mouth when she heard the front door open. Her voice was quiet, yet somehow her words had a bite to them. She couldn’t look him in the eyes, fearful she may see a repeat of the past when it was Lonnie who would be walking in instead.

Hopper exhaled a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. With a prideful smile making its way onto his face, he moved to sit down next to her on the couch. “No.” came the whisper as he shook his head, finally making eye contact with her. “Never.”

The look in his eye was enough confirmation to Joyce that they would survive whatever they were struggling through. Gently, he guided her head with the back of his hand towards his lips and pressed a kiss to her forehead. They’d be just fine.

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 2 Chapter 3-Bow-Crazy (Part 2)

*wheeze* *wheeze* It’s finally out...after more than a month...of being with irl stuff...

After finishing this part, I feel like Tsujimine fits the mold of “underdog school in sports anime” more than Kazemai, even though they have more members. It would be cool to get a story from their point of view.

Also, I recently started reading Beastars since it’s getting an anime and I’m amazed that the mangaka somehow made a deer more attractive to me than 90% of hot bishounen out there...

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. An ukeita is a hole set up on the wall for archers to string their bows. They show up in the anime a lot

2. Biku is “ an unconscious and abrupt contraction in kai”

3. The word used here, en ( 縁) is a difficult concept to describe in English. It’s not as grand as “fate” and “destiny” but more like a connection or a bond between people, e.g. the red string of fate. Something like a lucky encounter or a coincidence, divinely preordained. So basically Nikaidou think that Minato was lucky enough to meet Saionji and Shuu, and be enrolled into a high school with its own kyudojo and a kind, helpful advisor. 

4. A zabuton, according to Wikipedia, is a cushion for sitting. In sumo, the audience throws zabuton at the ring when a yokozuna is defeated by a weaker one.

5. A yokozuna is the highest rank in sumo.

6. Minato says sorry but it’s slurred since his cheeks were being pulled. I couldn’t express that in English without making it really cringy so I will leave it alone for now

7. An uchidake is the inner face of a bow

8. This paragraph made me wonder what exactly Masa-san studied in university. Anyways tebanasu is 手離す and hanasu is 話す. And kogoru is 凝る. Apparently kogoru is actually an accepted origin for kokoro.

9. Heki-ryuu is a school of kyudo. Don’t ask me what their specialty is, but apparently some of its branches still exist today.

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Nikaidou chased the flowing clouds with his eyes. The sunlight would be intense today as well.

A non-portable target was set up in a corner of the schoolyard, and there were two tatami mats placed behind it for whenever someone missed. They would have liked the shooting line to be in the shade if at all possible, but as they were limited to the area they could use, they could not expect too much.

Tsujimine High School did not have a kyudojo.

They had been practicing in the gym until last year, but with the new school year, they have been banned from using it. As there were many clubs that used the gym, such as the basketball, volleyball, table tennis, and badminton clubs, the kyudo club, which had never won, was told to refrain from using it. They also borrowed a public kyudojo for practice, but they only went there about once a month because of their bad location, which meant a one-way trip there by car took two hours.

All the third-years, other than those participating in the tournament, had retired, and currently there were twenty-two members. Since their advisor was only nominal and almost never showed up, in the absence of a coach, the form of upperclassmen teaching their juniors continued for generations. Even Higuchi and Aragaki, detached from the real world, could not accept to being driven from the gym in their last year of high school. At any rate, they had to earn results that could be clearly seen with the eyes. Words such as, "Let's do our best," had no efficacy whatsoever.

There was only one thing to obtain.

"Victory" at the national tournament.

Nikaidou smiled and turned his sharp gaze towards Fuwa.

"The regional tournament the other day. We were defeated by Shuu-kun's Kirisaki, but I feel super great for defeating Kazemai, where Minato-chan and Seiya-chan are."

"You sure hate your fellow middle school schoolmates a lot. And they're your kouhai?"

"No way, I love them. I have no interest in almost any of the Kirisaki guys, but Shuu-kun and Minato-chan are special."

"I'd like to avoid your special in particular."

"Same. Even I might not like my special. You understand well, Koushirou."

Fuwa pulled on the edge of Nikaidou's hood, which he had pulled over his head.

"More importantly, why the hell are you wearing a hoodie in this stupidly hot weather?"

"This white hoodie is a UV cut type for summer. You don't want to get a half-baked sunburn, right?"

"Are you a girl?"

"I look like a girl to you, Fuwa? Your eyesight is amazing."

"You're twisting words all on your own. If you hate getting a sunburn, then put up a parasol."

"Aah, a parasol might be good, actually. There are only two girls here, this kyudo club. I guess if you aren't fanciful enough, you won't join."

"Well, I guess it'll be creepy to see a corpse rolling around."

Beneath the shade of a tree, Higuchi was sleeping while lying face down. If someone who didn't know him saw him, he really would look like a corpse.

"Higuchi-senpai, you should at least lie down on the picnic sheet."

"Nnn, got it!"

The sloth-like Higuchi quietly got up and curled up on the sheet. He was like a rechargeable battery with a small capacity, quickly exhausted. He seemed to be especially bad with sunlight, and he needed to diligently take naps.

On the contrary, there was another man who vigorously did muscle training whenever he had spare time. He was always moving his body, and his love of muscles knew no bounds.

"Conscious breathing is strongly inhaling with the assistance of the serratus posterior superior muscle, the pectoralis minor muscle, the trapezius muscle, and the levator scapulae muscle, adding the rectus abominable muscle, oblique abdominal muscle, and serratus posterior inferior muscle, and strongly exhaling. Breathing is closely connected with muscle action. Ooh, it's the very mystery of the body!"

"…Kuro-chan sure is knowledgeable."

"Oh, just leave it all to me. This is love too, it is."

Good grief. Even my backhanded compliment didn't get through to him.

Seeing Nikaidou getting guilelessly brushed off, Fuwa's mouth slackened.

Aragaki arrived late. During this period, third-years could not devote their undivided attention to club activities because of teacher interviews and the like after school.

"Aragaki-senpai, I will help you string your bow."

Aragaki raised his hand in a gesture of thanks, and then Fuwa held the top part of his bow, the urahazu. Normally, an ukeita (1) that was installed on the wall of a kyudojo would be used, but in their case someone else would hold up the bow for it to be stringed.

After he finished preparing his equipment, he finally took off his mask. He always used masks of the same brand, and his spare was also flawless. It seemed that it didn't hurt his ears, the texture was nice, and it made him look like he had a small face—all things that he refused to compromise on, but Nikaidou and Fuwa couldn't tell the difference between it and a special bargain sale brand.

Nikaidou took out his phone and recorded everyone's shooting forms.

Aragaki was glued to his own image. From Nikaidou's point of view, there couldn't have been much difference between his face yesterday and today, but Aragaki was immersed in delight every time he saw his own profile.

Nikaidou himself also had a video of his shooting taken by Fuwa.

"Thanks, Fuwa."

"The other day, I was on a trip and I took the opportunity to stop by Shigeyuki-san's kyudojo, but it was closed. Was the practice day changed?"

"Yeah, apparently he's busy with work."

Even as he was saying that, he put away his phone in his bag after he confirmed that everything was saved.

Fuwa was watching him as he did so.

Nikaidou passed through the automatic doors.

As soon as he entered, he was met with a large aqua terrarium.

Without looking at the colourful fish swimming in the miniature garden tank, he searched for his familiar favourite. The dark, ugly fish that always stayed still in the shade of a rock. He didn't know its name. It did not move, as if it was stuck there, and its form could not be identified unless one went all the way around to the side of the tank, so it made little sense for it to be an aquarium fish. It was irresistibly lovely how it did not care at all about the intentions of humans.

After he announced his name at the reception desk, he climbed the stairs, not using the elevator at all.

The hospital room was on the fifth floor.

At the destination to which he climbed step by step, there was a room.

"Shigeyuki-san."

"Hey, Eisuke. You're visiting a lot."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling especially good today. Since no matter what, you got a twenty-shot kaichuu at the regional tournament. I'm so proud to have such an excellent nephew."

"It looks like your shots, since I've always been watching you shoot, Shigeyuki-san."

"Is your eloquence like me too? How strange, I'm supposed to be a quiet man."

Nikaidou Shigeyuki was Nikaidou's uncle.

He was an archer with a muscular body and whose specialty was extremely sharp shots. His love of kyudo grew so intense that he even constructed a kyudojo on the premises of his own home, and a lot of neighbourhood children came to play there. Nikaidou was also one of those children.

The hand-crafted kyudojo, with space for two people to shoot, had its range become a vegetable plot, with different kinds of vegetables planted in it for every season, and many insects, such as butterflies, gathered there. The sight of an arrow flying above all of that was idyllic, more like something from the leisurely and quiet life of a mountain hermit than a strict discipline. But, Nikaidou thought that if he really was a mountain hermit, he wouldn't have gotten sick. Stress and pressure were major factors for the damage to his internal organs.

After they had chatted for a while, Nikaidou took out his phone from his bag.

"It's the usual thing, but please do it for me again."

"Oh, I wonder if everyone has improved? Ooh, Fuwa-kun has a great hanare. The pushing of his left hand is also good. I think he should lower his left shoulder just a little. Higuchi-kun's kai is as long as ever. It is rare even for hanshi-level masters to maintain it that long, but as long as he doesn't get motare or biku (2) then it can stay as it is. And then…"

Shigeyuki was the shadow coach of Tsujimine High School.

The Tsujimine High School Kyudo Club had an advisor, but no coach. For that reason, Nikaidou turned to Shigeyuki. He was currently hospitalized, but readily accepted Nikaidou's request.

Shigeyuki spoke.

"Eisuke, you seem to want to master the way to use your right hand at hanare."

"I don't think my technique can be imitated by the high schoolers over there."

"'Kakehodoki' is making a grinding noise at your right thumb and then shooting the arrow, but there are many archers who don't do that."

"Is that so? I thought it was something everyone did if they were skilled."

"It depends on the shape of the yugake, and there is a wide variety of shooting techniques. It's not like my knowledge is absolute. Fujiwara-kun, who does shoumen uchiokoshi, is not made to do kakehodoki, right?"

"Well, yeah."

"Fujiwara-kun truly is Saionji-sensei's best disciple. And besides, the left hand is essential for hitting the target, after all. To begin with, you should learn the correct way of using your left hand."

"Okay. Thank you, Shigeyuki-san. I'll pass it all on to everyone."

Nikaidou loved talking about kyudo with Shigeyuki. On the other hand, he also felt uncomfortable about it, because he did not genuinely love kyudo.

Sometimes, he wondered why he was doing kyudo. He started in fourth grade, and now it was his eighth year doing it. In middle school, he had accomplished winning the individual competitions, but honestly speaking, he had been shooting while thinking, I want to quit, I want to quit. The time of it being incredibly enjoyable and him being happy about winning had already passed. On the other hand, he also did not want to go even farther with it.

He had seen his limit.

Always hitting, never missing—that was only aiming for the absurd.

Even professional archers couldn't make a living from kyudo. Almost all kyudo teachers were volunteers.

He wanted to shut up those who said ridiculous things like, your wishes will come true if you want them strongly enough. Things like not putting in enough effort or putting in effort in a different direction were the objections of winners, and the great majority died without ever being able reach the heights. They were insensitive words from someone who did not notice the heaps of corpses that were rolling at their feet, and spat on them.

He wanted to be free of it all soon.

He wanted to put an end to his archer life.

But despite all that, the biggest reason for why he hadn't quit yet was the existence of Shuu and Minato.

Fujiwara Shuu even had Saionji as his master. He probably had the power of his family and money. It wasn't bad to utilize what he had to the fullest extent, and in fact it was what he should do. However, Minato was different. Even though he was supposed to be a commoner and an average person like himself, why was he the only one who was blessed?

What Nikaidou didn't have and Minato did was "chance." (3) What other people would call the love of a god. Something that couldn't be obtained with effort.

The love of the god of archery? How laughable.

Shigeyuki-san, just watch me. I'll end my career with victory.

I'll strike an arrow back at them.

Minato held the leash and headed for the main street.

It had been a long time since he walked Bear in the evening. Bear cheerily walked ahead.

Ultimately, Minato took a break from club activities. After returning home, he had himself examined at Seiya's father's hospital, and brought Bear along with him. He would have ridden his bike, but gripping the handlebars made his left wrist hurt from the strain. It seemed that he had no choice but to obey his orders until he was completely healed.

He left it to Bear to lead him forward. Honeybees and flower chafer beetles gathered at the white flowers blooming in the buckwheat fields, and white-tailed skimmer dragonflies flew back and forth by the waterside. When he went on a path lined by spotted bellflowers, he came to a place with a good view.

There was a new shop. Enticed by the delicious smells of homemade bread, Minato opened the shop's door. He was told by a shop assistant that since not only locals, but also trekkers and cyclists who drop in, it was common for things to sell out in the early hours.

When he left the shop, Minato was holding cinnamon rolls, its hallmark product. Drawn in by the sales message of "they go amazing with coffee," he bought them before he knew what he was doing.

What should I do with these?

There probably isn't an opportunity for me to give them to him.

Ever since Masa-san took up the job of being the coach for the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club, there had been no opportunities for the two of us to shoot together at the Yata no Mori Kyudojo. He doesn't drink coffee during the practices at school, so even if he was in Yata no Mori, he would definitely turn them away. And my pocket money is tight this month, so I really am a hopeless idiot.

"Bear, what should I do? Is it better even just to go and watch practice? But I can't really concentrate on it…"

For Minato, the kyudojo was a place where his mind felt at ease. And yet, seeing the unfamiliar pairing of Masa-san and Shuu made him feel irritated.

Their levels were so different that it was like looking at something unreal. The sound of the flying arrow sent out from that gifted body was sharp, and it could only be thought of as something done by an inhabitant of another world. Even for the things that Minato couldn't easily improve at no matter how many times he was told to, Shuu could clear them extremely easily. After all, even for those who taught, there was probably worth in teaching people like Shuu, who picked things up quickly.

Minato sat down on the ground. He stroked Bear's thin eyebrows, and he licked Minato's hand. That naturally led to him rubbing Bear's head and back. Bear had always comforted him like this since a long time ago, but perhaps sensing something on this day, he stood up all of a sudden.

"Bear?" a voice came from behind.

"…You surprised me. Why are you in a place like this, Onogi?"

Kaito took out his earphones.

"Shouldn't I be the one surprised? I was wondering if Seiya was here. I'm heading home from club. My mom dragged me here to buy some bread filled with red bean paste, which is limited to one per customer, for Nanao's house."

"Then, Seiya will be home soon."

"Narumiya, you came when you were told not to, and didn't when you were told you could come. What exactly do you want to do? Didn't they talk about how useful it is for you just now? Simply watching practice is also valuable."

"I know that."

"You know, so what's up with you?"

"…I hate having my own lack of skill spelled out for me when the current Shuu is right before me."

"Hah, so stupid. I can't believe you're letting this rare opportunity get away for that kind of reason. Ultimately, you still have no excuse. Why do you think Tommy-sensei invited Fujiwara?"

"Wasn't it a request from Shuu? Ryouhei invited him too."

"Did you already forget what you yourself said? Didn't you say that watching skilled people shoot is one way to gain knowledge? Since Kazemai doesn't have cutthroat battles to become regulars like at a powerhouse school, so we lack the enthusiasm to 'absolutely get better.' There's no air of tension from being overwhelmed by a skilled guy. Isn't Tommy-sensei trying to fire us up by showing us Fujiwara's shooting from up close?"

Indeed, Shuu never lost focus at any time.

Even in practice matches, he showed his relentless strength. He maintained his unashamed attitude of being the one to stand above all high school archers for three hundred and sixty-five days.

"Could it be that the reason why Tommy-sensei said that he couldn't praise us even if we all got kaichuu was—"

"Because our minds were 'slackening.' And, we settled the reasons for why we lost with 'it can't be helped.' Seiya and the others were also talking about that during today's practice. They were saying that even if we didn't intend to, somewhere in our minds, we might have been thinking something along the lines of 'we don't really have to win this regional tournament by overextending ourselves.' Isn't that attitude putting down the other archers who are shooting their bows seriously? Well, you felt angry, unlike us."

Minato bit his lip, and then pressed the package from the bakery into Kaito's hand.

"Sorry. Take this."

"What? Isn't this all of it?"

"I didn't put it in a backpack, and I'm carrying something in my hand even though I'm walking Bear, so it's a bother. Well then, I'm going home now."

Minato broke into a run without waiting for Kaito's response.

"That guy, why did he buy this even though he's not eating it…?"

Kaito's muttering, as he held the bag of bread, did not reach anyone's ears.

It was the last day of Shuu's practice at Kazemai High School.

Minato showed up at the kyudojo for the first time in a week. Seiya, Kaito, Nanao, and Ryouhei were practicing while commenting on each other's shooting forms.

Shuu and Masa-san were shooting in a two-person tachi. The two, who were tall and had similar builds, worked together smoothly as though they were old friends. Masa-san raised his bow, parted it, and released his arrow as though tracing Shuu's movements. The tsurune resounded loudly. No ordinary person could imitate the both of them, who shot right through the center of their targets. It was most likely a state only those who had fully honed their skills could reach. It was a beautiful dance of only two people.

Minato was the only one not wearing kyudogi there. Even though he felt like quickly leaving as soon as possible from the loneliness of being left by himself, on the other hand, he also wanted to stay.

The archers he admired were here.

Even being reproached for watching them was no different from being told to stop breathing.

When Shuu finished zasha, he approached Minato, who was standing in the corner.

"Minato, are you going to shoot today?"

"No, I still didn't get permission."

"I see, that's a shame. This is my last day here, but I learned a lot from being shown Masa-san's shooting. Saionji-sensei never talked a lot, but I realized that we were instructed with a good deal of meaning put in."

"That's good to hear. I'm really sorry for being completely useless… I'll be going to the hospital from now on. See you another time, Shuu."

Shuu moved his face closer to Minato's shoulder, who had looked away.

"Don't show it on your face so readily. It'll make it too hard to see you off."

"What do you mean?"

"Seiya's father is examining you, right? It's fine, you can shoot once you've healed. Let's shoot together next time we meet."

"…Yeah. You really are cool, Shuu. You're like a samurai."

Shuu opened his eyes wide.

"…Of course I am," he said, then lightly bumped Minato's right hand while it was hanging by his side with his fist.

Now that he was taking a break from club, the days passed in a blink of an eye.

They had just entered the suspension period of club activities that took place before exams, and because he thoroughly did the practice that did not involve using a bow when he had hayake, it became his specialty.

On the day the end of term finals was over, Minato was at Seiya's family's orthopedic surgery clinic. A sumo wrestling match was showing on the television in the waiting room. In it, there was a scene of zabuton (4) flying after the match was over. A young boy, seeing that, spoke to a man sitting next to him who looked like his grandfather.

"Grandpa, why's everyone throwing their zabuton?"

"That's because the stronger wrestler won by using a technique used by the weaker wrestler, so the people watching that got angry."

"Huh, why are they angry even though he won?"

"Sumo is a martial art, after all. The wrestlers are too proud to win by cowardly methods, of course, but also by cheap techniques. Even if they get hurt, if they don't show the true power of a yokozuna (5) when standing in the ring, then wouldn't that be rude to their opponents?"

Minato secretly kept the two's conversation to his heart.

In the examination room, the doctor, Seiya's father, spoke.

"Does it really not hurt anymore? I don't want to get scolded by Seiya if I don't find out you're lying."

"It is true. I wouldn't do anything like lying since I of course also don't want to drag this out."

"It was worth it for me to ask Tommy-sensei to have you take a break until you are fully healed, since you would probably not be able to endure watching kyudo without being able to shoot, Minato-kun. Though, in the beginning, Coach Takigawa seemed to have thought that it would be good for you to study by observing, at least. Alright, your examination is finished."

When Minato returned home, he threw himself down on his bed in his second-floor bedroom. He raised his left hand high above his head and tried moving his wrist. There was no more pain.

The sumo conversation he had listened to in the clinic's waiting room not long ago had something in it that could be related to kyudo. If it was someone who never did kyudo, they might think it was great as long as your hitting rate was good. However, it was different for archers. They would feel irritated at seeing a person resolutely hitting with a messy shooting form.

What Seiya's father had said was unexpected. Masa-san had not said anything like that at all to him. He would have obediently accepted it a little if he had heard that.

Minato shouted on top of his bed.

"Masa-san's an idiot! That shitty dirty old geezer——!"

Even if he denounced his master in a nook of the countryside, he keenly felt the insignificance of his own ability, and it only felt all the more futile.

A sound poured down on him when he closed his eyes.

A cold and tender melody.

He wanted to hear it by his side rather than in his memories.

His phone that had rolled to his pillow was ringing. Perhaps Seiya had heard his roar just now. When he looked, he saw that the sender was Masa-san. The text read, (look outside your window).

He got up and saw Masa-san holding a bow and quiver below the window. From the design of the bow cover and other things, they were without a doubt Minato's. Minato rushed down the stairs and opened the door.

"First of all, I guess I should say, good evening."

"What, um, why are you here, Masa-san?"

"I was adjusting everyone's equipment today. Though when I planned on doing it for Minato as well and stopped by, I heard a distant howling from somewhere. 'Masa-san's an idiot!' or something like that."

"Oh. …So-sorry."

Masa-san lightly pinched Minato's cheeks and pulled them.

"You're half right, but don't shout that while your window is open, since it's embarrassing."

"…I'm so sorry." (6)

Minato led Masa-san through the front door.

"My dad still isn't home yet. Should we go upstairs?"

"No, here is fine. More importantly, try gripping your bow."

Masa-san took out the bow from the bow case.

"You have relatively large hands, so I put in a piece of paper about as thick as a postcard for the grip to try to make it a bit thicker. It's a semi-cylindrical shape, but there's also a way to slightly raise the right side of the uchidake (7) so your fingertips will reach the corners more easily. I had everyone else do it by themselves, but to celebrate you recovering from your injury, I did yours myself."

Minato received his bow with a new grip.

The original leather grip wrapping (nigirikawa) was used for a long time and became slippery, but this new leather felt good to the touch. Though it was easier to grip it when it was thin, thanks to its raised height, the fitting of his little finger was good as well.

"It feels great. Thank you, Masa-san."

"Your arrows were also the length of those used by beginners, so I had them shortened a little at the kyudo equipment store. Even a slightly lighter one would decrease the burden on your wrist. I also took the opportunity to expose your arrow feathers to steam and straighten them."

"You knew my yazuka really well."

"Well, it might not seem like it, but I am your master after all."

Masa-san grinned.

It felt like it had been a long time since he saw Masa-san smile like that. His heart hurt a little.

"Masa-san, I want to try shooting."

"Do you want to go to Yata no Mori?"

Minato got the backpack he used for kyudo, and got into the passenger seat of Masa-san's car.

The stars were twinkling above the mountains. From the slightly open windows came the lively sounds of insects carried on the wind. The frogs rejoicing in the rainy season made up the background chorus. The stretching lights illuminated the streets at night. Their distant destination was covered in darkness, but there was a road in the range where the lights reached.

A road that appeared by moving forward.

Minato tugged at his seatbelt for no particular reason, and Masa-san gave him a sidelong glance.

"Does your seatbelt feel uncomfortable?"

"No, that feels fine. Um, Masa-san. I'm sorry for calling you a shitty old geezer the other day and just now…"

"Were you worrying about those kinds of things?"

"It's not just that."

"You still have other insults for me? Since we have the time, I'll listen to them."

"Masa-san, I'm happy that you became the coach for Kazemai, but I'm also not."

"Why is that?"

Minato exhaled loudly.

"…Because I can't keep you to myself."

When the car stopped at a red light, Masa-san ruffled Minato's hair.

"You really are just a little kid after all."

"Don't call me a little kid! And don't mess up my hair!"

"Alright, alright."

"The light turned green, you know!"

As Minato was fixing his tousled hair, the car began moving again.

"It's just the story from when I was in high school, but because I couldn't do what Grandpa told me to do very well at all, so I had other teachers take a look at me. Even so, whenever I went to get taught by other teachers, Grandpa would always get in a bad mood. I couldn't understand why, but now I can understand his feelings."

"What kind of feelings?"

"The feeling of 'don't you meddle with my student.'"

"Huh?"

"I know that your hitting rate will increase if you improved your right hand. However, even though we were working hard on correcting your left hand first in order to not harm your left wrist, some outsider had the nerve to tell you to do something uncalled for. Even though he never saw you everyday, what could he understand from only seeing you shoot one or two arrows?"

Sorry, Minato murmured in his mind.

"But, didn't you make Shuu touch your belly?"

"If anyone else heard only that, I would sound like a pervert, wouldn't I? Did you want to touch it too, Minato?"

"I'm not a pervert, so I'm fine."

"To begin with, you have too many weak spots! Your thinking is too naïve! Your range of behavior is strangely wide, you act way too recklessly, you're an airhead—I can see why Seiya got so overprotective of you."

"There's no need to go that far…"

"Because of that, I was waiting for you to say something, but I should have been the one to act. I suppose a coach who can't even manage his athlete's health is less than third-rate——?"

Masa-san put his left hand to his temple to cover his eyes.

Minato grabbed that hand with the wristwatch and brushed up the strands of hair hanging by his cheek, driven by the urge to look into those hidden eyes. But, he quietly swallowed.

"My master will always and forever be Masa-san. I want to listen to your tsurune forever——. Please take care of me from now on, Master."

"I should be the one saying you shouldn't be too hard on me."

Their mouths loosened.

"I sort of feel more relaxed when I talk with you, Masa-san."

"Oh, since ancient times, conversation has been a kind of therapy. There are various theories on how words came to be, but with 'o' standing for big, and 'ko' standing for small, o and ko have lingered in people's ears and became 'oto' and 'koto'. 'Oto' doesn't have any meanings such as an idea or concept, and 'koto' does. The origin of kokoro (heart, mind) is 'kokoru—kogoru (to congeal, to stiffen)'. Kokoro meant something heavy in the first place. 'Hanasu (to talk)' was to release a stiffened heart, let go of it (tebanasu)." (8)

"It seems like the 'hanare' of kyudo is also connected to that."

At the Yata no Mori Kyudojo, the blue hydrangea flowers were in full bloom. His heart danced at reuniting with Fuu the owl. Fuu, perched on his shoulder, tilted its head as usual.

Minato and Masa-san stood side-by-side before the targets. Minato lightly drew the bow in his hands, making a bang sound.

"I think that I was acting proud because I've been doing kyudo for a bit longer than everyone else. Not being able to shoot well because my wrist hurt was just an excuse for me to say. If I'm standing at that place, I must not make excuses for myself, not to mention for the people who are watching me."

"Do you have an answer for what is the responsibility of your own ochi?"

"Yeah. It's rare for a beginner to be an ochi. As a senpai, it is my duty to show the 'way of the bow.' I have the role of lighting the way from behind, so that everyone would not go the wrong way."

"A good answer. I learned something as well."

Masa-san smiled.

"I won't overstretch myself and copy Shuu, and I'll commit myself to strengthen my left hand like you said. And then, I want you to tell me how to do dantian breathing once more."

"Well, when you thinly exhale at 'kai,' I believe that you can personally feel the useless power in the shoulders going away, and force being applied to your abdomen. Your dantian is fulfilled when you exhale eighty to ninety percent of your breath rather than all of it. The moment that leads to the time of hanare from nobiai is called 'yagoro' in Heki-ryuu, (9) and there is a good practice for remembering that timing, but these days you might get scolded by the other archers for being noisy."

"Oh, could you be talking about 'yagoe'?"

"Yes, shouting 'aiiee!' or 'yaa!' or something like that when you're releasing your arrow. Fujiwara was talking about Saionji-sensei also teaching it to you guys in the past."

"Yeah, we practiced producing our yagoe."

"Hanare is not done when you completely exhaled at kai, but at a good time when you are able to let out a yagoe."

"Can I try shooting together with you, Masa-san?"

"Yes, of course."

Minato stood in front of Masa-san.

The two simultaneously spread their feet, parted their bows, and lifted them. They slowly spread their chests.

Words were not necessary when a person becomes one with their bow. The long breaths that occurred over and over and the back that bended as it was stretched. Letting go of the unorganized words, the "feelings," packed in one's chest, abandoning one's body to sensation to the point of outrageousness, and waiting for the moment to fly off.

The two's yagoe dashed into the night sky.

When they finished after who knows how many rounds, Minato opened his backpack.

"Masa-san, here's something to drink."

"Oh, is that a new brand of canned coffee? Thanks. That's right, I also have something to eat."

What Masa-san took out was a bag from the bakery Minato went to the other day, and it did not contain cinnamon rolls, but homemade oyaki.

Previous | Next

[byunskjm-blog]

Dream

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst, High School! AU

Length: 7.5k

Masterlist

If you could go your senior without being noticed you’d love that. But that is not how it works out. Like any other teenager struggling to figure out the craziness that is life, you had very few hobbies that piqued your interest. Those being track and choir. When you’re taking 4 AP classes you are very prone to stress and running helps you relieve it. A couple of laps around the field and you feel refreshed and energized. Singing was something that brought you joy and genuine happiness. You’ve been singing since you were a tot running around in your diaper. As your mom likes to say, “If you weren’t crying you were singing.” Your friends Jieun and Chungha say you radiate, “Big Bitch Energy” but you couldn’t help if that’s how you came off to others. You were a type A kind of person. Everything had to be done properly and neatly, it’s how you have always been. You met your best friends in 6th grade by chance. You were walking around the track because you weren’t in dress code and it just so happened that Jieun and Chungha weren’t either. You all started to walk together and share your common interests. You found out that they also liked to sing but Chungha loved to dance more than anything. Jieun was a theater kid. From then on it has been the three of you against the world.

School was over at this point and it was just you and a couple of clubs who were meeting after school. You were walking back to the choir room from the bathroom when a voice hit your ears. It was so smooth and honey-like, you really question if it was real or just a delusion. You walked closer to the source to find out if this voice you were hearing was actually coming from a mouth. When you saw a 5’9 boy merrily strolling down the hall without a care in the world you confirmed it was in fact not a dream. But even if it was you didn’t want to wake up from it. He was about to walk through the double doors but you needed to know who it was or else you’d end up pulling your hair out over it.

“Excuse me!” You shouted from across the hallway.

It managed to reach him in time because he turned around with a confused look on his face. You knew immediately who those droopy eyes and round cheeks belonged to. Byun Baekhyun.

Not to be too stereotypical but Byun Baekhyun was the IT boy at your school. He did it all. He was a football god, great in academics, and apparently possesses the voice of an angel. Every girl wanted him and only the prettiest could have him. But have would be too exaggerated because these girls had him for one night and never again. That was another thing about Byun Baekhyun, his commitment was his best attribute. You have heard a lot of things from a lot of girls about him. Most of them were praising him and his flexibility which repulsed you to the point where you wanted to vomit in class. But his reputation was different from the way he presented himself to others. He was usually kind to others who spoke to him, he stood up for people who were too afraid to stand up for themselves, he never let things with girls get too far. He let them know ahead of time what they were signing up for.

He just stood there looking at you with confusion, “Can I help you?”

Now it was your turn to stand there and look absolutely dumbfounded. “Uh. I- I just. You know what I’m sorry. Forget this happened.” You were embarrassed. What the fuck was that? You were never one to feel shame but his gaze just did something to you. It made you feel like a fish out of water.

“No, what did you want to say?” His tone made him seem like he was genuinely interested in what you had to say to him. He walked closer so he could get a better look at you and hear what you had to say from a closer proximity.

The closer he got the more nervous he got. God, you were turning into those girls you made fun of. The girls who became putty in his hand after one glance. “I wanted to say you have a nice voice and you should consider trying out for choir.” It was a miracle that you managed to get all of that out without a hitch in your voice.

He seemed a little shock that you actually heard him. Being labeled a jock left him little room to try out in activities like choir. It didn’t fit his brand. That’s why he kept it a secret from everyone. It worried him that you knew because he didn’t you but it was apparent that you knew him. He replied with a small chuckle and the shake of his head.

“What’s so funny?” You were finding your voice again and you weren’t scared to show it.

“It’s just cute.”

Your eyes widened at his statement. “Cute?”

“You know, you thinking I’d try out for choir.” There it was, the asshole that he tried to keep covered with a curtain of niceness.

You folded your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow, “Is someone a little scared of his jock friends finding out he can sing?” Your voice was belittling him and making him feel a little dumb.

He scoffed, “Look I don’t know who you are but just keep your mouth shut about this ok.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a bow, “Yes my king.”

The pair of you separated after that and he had definitely left a bad impression on you. You thought that he could possibly be different from the stereotype but that was obviously untrue. Byun Baekhyun was just like every other jock at this school, an ass. As you were walking away your peripheral vision caught some junior looking at you then the spot where you and Baekhyun were talking. You just ignored her and continued on your way. But that would come back to bite you in the ass.

The next day at school you were exhausted and looked terrible. You didn’t bother with makeup or a decent outfit. To say the least you bummed it.

“You look gross,” Chungha commented.

“Gee thanks.” You sarcastically said.

Before you could even make it to your locker you were stopped by Baekhyun who just stood in front of you with a very stoic face. You could figure he was pissed off.

“I need to talk to you,” his voice harsh which was totally different from yesterday.

“Okay aft-”

“No. Now.” He grabbed your arm and practically dragged you into an empty room.

You kept telling him to let you go but he didn’t until you were both in the room and the door was locked. Yeah, you were a little scared but who wouldn’t be.

“What the hell Byun?!” The anger was bubbling under your skin. Who was he to think he could just grab you as he pleased like you were some object of his.

“I could say the exact same thing.” The confusion that painted your face said enough. “I told you not to tell anyone!” He said slamming his hand on a desk which made you flinch.

You felt wronged more than anything. “I didn-”

“Don’t fucking lie. It is everywhere, “Baekhyun is gonna join choir and become some geek” who else knew besides you?” He was intent on blaming you even when you had nothing to do with it.

But you stood your ground, “You really think I care enough to start some dumb ass rumor about you? Newsflash, not everything revolves around you. I don’t care what the fuck you do but don’t you ever accuse me of something I didn’t do.” You walked past him with daggers in your eyes directly aimed for him and him only.

When you got out the room Chungha and Jieun swarmed you with questions about what happened. Of course, you told them everything and they both shared the same feeling of disgust as you.

To say your whole day was shit was an understatement. You were being extra bitchy to people and you felt bad but it was just your way of taking out your anger. You then realized that lashing out on other people wasn’t right so when school ended you laced up your shoes and started your run around the track. The football team was on the field practicing but you didn’t pay any attention instead blasting your music and running several laps. Soon you felt the pent up anger and stress leave your system with every step you took. You were so caught up in what you were doing that you didn’t notice some bulk object running beside you. You glanced over at it and saw Baekhyun. Almost like it had a mind of its own, your feet stopped completely. You pulled out your earphones and looked at him with irritation.

“What did I do this time? Kill your dog?” You were obviously still pissed at him.

“I don’t have a dog,” He was trying to be funny but you were annoyed and a joke wasn’t gonna erase that.

“You really are a piece of work,” You scoffed before putting your earphones back in and continuing your run. But you could still see him following you from behind. You tried to ignore him and continue your run but he wasn’t letting up anytime soon. So you stopped again. “What do you want?” The annoyance oozing from your lips.

He was a little winded from the running, he hunched over trying his best to catch his breath.

You grew impatient and started to walk away but his hand clutched your wrist as an attempt to stop you. As if his touch was lava you remove yourself from his hold.

“I just wanted to apologize. I know you didn’t do it.”

You laughed at his apology, “Oh really? What made you come to that revelation? Was it the part where I told you I didn’t do it or when you realized I didn’t fucking do it?”

He looked at the floor feeling guilt for making you feel so mad. But in his defense, you were the only logical suspect. When he found out it was one of the girls he slept with that started the rumor he could only think about how bad he felt for doing what he did to you. “What would you have thought if you were me?”

“I would have thought logically and come to the conclusion that not everything is about me and not everyone cares enough to stoop so low. That’s what I would have thought Baekhyun.” You were done talking to him and you showed it by plugging your buds back in your ear and jogging away.

You thought that would be the end of it but from the distant, you could hear him yell, “I’m sorry!” He stopped following you so you just ignored it and finished your lap.

After running you head over to the choir room to try and get in some practice before going home. It was just you alone in the room because not many people willingly choose to say at school. You sat down on the piano bench and began to play an all too familiar melody. Naturally, you started to sing the song. As the lyrics flowed of your lips you got lost in the music which was normal for you. Then it came to an end and you heard clapping and whipped your head to the left where it was coming from. Baekhyun.

“Can you not take a hint or are you just that dense?” You said whilst collecting your music sheets.

It was like he didn’t hear a single word you said because he walked closer to you. “I just want to genuinely apologize and I want to know that you accept it.”

“Why is it so important to you that I accept your apology Baekhyun? I’m not your friend so it doesn’t matter if I hate you or not.” You were using logic at this point.

“But it matters to me. I don’t want you to hate me.” His voice got immensely quieter.

“Too late for that,” the bitch was jumping out.

“What can I do to make it up to you? I’ll do anything.”

You were so fucking confused on why it mattered to him so much. He was Byun Baekhyun and you were… well, you. He shouldn’t care if he hurts my feelings, he shouldn’t apologize. So why is he? But you thought about how you can use this to your benefit and you had an epiphany. This would be a great way to try out the duet you wrote. “Sing with me.”

His eyes grew, “Huh?”

“Sing with me. I’ve been working on this song, it’s a duet and you would be the perfect test monkey.” You pulled out your music sheets for the said song and set it up on the piano. You sat back down on the bench and patted the empty space beside you to signal Baekhyun to sit.

He let out an exasperated sigh and took his spot next to you. “I don’t even know the lyrics.”

“Just follow along,” you pointed at the sheets above the piano. Your fingers started playing the music that was on the sheet. Then Baekhyun began singing and you could physically feel your heart race like it was running a marathon. It was now your part. He seemed to have caught on quickly and even started playing on the other side of the piano making sure to keep the same rhythm.

Well, I don’t care even if you’re a sweet liar.

Well, I don’t care because I will make you believe.

And as if it was prohibited you both stopped singing and turn to face one another. Your hands managed to touch when it was on the keys. Staring into his brown orbs sent a wave of shock through your body. It felt as if you were in a maze and couldn’t find your way out.

“You made that?” He asked dumbfounded on how amazing it sounded.

You nodded, “I still need to finish it but I think it is getting somewhere.”

“You are really good you know that?” He complimented.

Why on earth were you blushing? His words shouldn’t have that effect on you. But here you were. “Thank you.” You checked the clock and saw it read at 2:30 pm. You had work at 3. You cursed under your breath and began packing up.

“So does that mean I am forgiven?” He looked up at you with hope in his eyes.

“You are forgiven but it doesn’t change how I feel about you.” You threw your bag over your shoulder and left him in the room alone.

That night you went home and fell on your bed face first. All you wanted to do was sleep but your mind was too preoccupied with Baekhyun and what happened in the choir room. It gave you the motivation to finish the song. It was like you wanted to prove something, not to yourself, but him.

School came again the next day and you were just as tired as before. You were running on a 2-hour nap because you stayed up till 3 AM working on the song. You were regretting it now. Jieun approached you with a cup of coffee in hand. Unsure if it was for you or not, you still snatched it and drank it.

“Hey that was mine,” she pouted.

You gave a small smile, “Sorry Ji I needed it more than you.”

“What time did you go to sleep?” She asked with a motherly tone.

“3” you softly spoke under your breath.

“What?”

“She said 3!” Chungha yelled out of nowhere.

You got startled and placed your hand over your now racing heart.

“Maybe if you went to sleep at an appropriate time you wouldn’t have to steal other peoples coffee.” Jieun scolded and Chungha nodded along with her.

“I’ll buy you one tomorrow,” you stuck out your pinky for her to grab onto. “I promise.”

She rolled her eyes and connected her pinky with yours and touched thumbs to seal the deal that was made.

“What were you doing that made you stay up till 3 in the morning?” Chungha asked as you guys began walking towards your lockers.

“Finishing a song.”

Jieun and Chungha shared a look, “Of course.” They said in unison.

The three of you had lockers next to each other. You were on the left, Chungha in the middle, and Jieun on the right.

You took your books out of your locker and put your book bag in. You closed your locker and was greeted with a smiling Baekhyun leaning on the locker beside you. You screeched in shock and dropped your book. “Jesus fucking christ Baekhyun!!!” You punched his arm in retaliation. His laugh hit your ears and you couldn’t believe he found this funny. You sent him a death glare and he shut up and bent down to grab your books.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you like that,” he said trying his best to repress the smile growing on his face.

You turned around to find your friends but they were nowhere to be found. “What is this time Byun?”

“Nothing just wanted to ask if you were gonna be in the choir room after school.”

It was confusing why he wanted to know that but you still answered him. “Yeah, I am. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” He hummed before walking away to his class to leave you in a confused state.

“You really are something Byun Baekhyun,” you whispered to yourself. You shook your head and smiled while heading to your first class.

You found your lost friends at lunch and approached them with a playfully angry face. “Thanks for leaving me this morning.”

“You seemed busy,” Chungha teased.

“Since when are you and Baekhyun buddies? Last time I checked you hated him, and that was yesterday.” Jieun said peeling a tangerine.

“We aren’t.”

“That’s not what it seemed like this morning,” Chungha said.

“He was just being dumb which is normal for him.” You didn’t really wanna talk about this topic anymore so you changed it to Chungha’s upcoming dance competition. They had no problem talking about it for the whole lunch period. You had one more class till school was over and you were nervous as the clock ticked closer to the end. It was nerve-wracking because you had no idea what Baekhyun was up to. The curiosity was eating you alive. But the time came when the bell rang.

You walked towards the choir room with a knot in your stomach. Of course, he wasn’t going to be there right after school, he had practice. So you made the executive decision to preoccupy your mind with music. Time flew by once again and you didn’t notice Baekhyun’s presence. His hair was wet like he just got out of the showers.

“You’re here,” he said with a small smiling growing on his lips.

“I said I’d be.” You said trying to remain cool, calm and collected.

Without permission, he sat beside you like he did yesterday. “Did you finish the song?”

You shook your head no and looked down at the keys. The feeling of disappointment flooded, but why? Why were you scared of letting him down when it came to this song?

“You mind if I help?” He asked hoping you would let him.

You shook your head and let him take your music sheets which was something you didn’t even let Jieun do.

“How about finishing it with harmonization with us both,” he suggested and you took it into consideration. “Something like… Dream when you look at me just like that I feel like you’re so mine. Dream that makes me want to fall asleep again - such a sweet dream. That’s you.”

You couldn’t avoid eye contact while looking at him. Something about him kept you drawn to him like a magnet. “I like it.”

“Really?” He asked feeling proud of himself and happy you seemed to approve of it.

You nodded and without notice started playing the notes for the song. Naturally, you both fell into your own world that only consisted of you, him, and music. By the end of the song, you found yourselves closer than you started. His face was in front of yours and you felt this urge to connect your lips just to see what it would be like. Just as you were about to your alarm went off letting you know you had to go. You quickly broke away from him and got up. “I have to go but thanks for helping with the song. I appreciate it.”

“Wait before you go I need your number.”

You raised a brow, “Why?”

“Because I like doing this with you and I want to do it more. And instead of me popping up on you all the time it would be easier to just text you.”

You contemplated it and you liked how useful he was in a music sense so you gave in and gave it to him. The smugness never left his face even after you left. He made you regret giving him your number because he practically spammed your phone with dumb useless texts. To the point where you had to mute him. When you got home you replied to him.

You (9:50): Why are you blowing up my phone?

Byun Baekhyun (9:51): Where were you? :(

You (9:51): Work.

Byun Baekhyun (9:52): Do you think you can help me write my own song tomorrow?

It was surprising that he actually showed an interest in songwriting. You thought he was just being nice at first but it seems as though he really found a passion for it.

You (9:55): Meet me in the choir room after school.

Byun Baekhyun (9:55): I’ll be there.

Days passed and soon you and Baekhyun had been meeting up for nearly a month. The texts between you were constant. Most of the time they were just Baekhyun being a flirt. It was back and forth sometimes. Your times after school were either working on Baekhyun’s song or fixing your duet. Today he decided to walk you to your car, it was windy out and your hair kept getting in your face. He helped you in your car and you rolled down your window to talk to him before you left. His arms were perched on the sill as he looked at you with sparkling brown eyes. The wind once again managed to push hair in your face but Baekhyun pushed it behind your ear gently. Even after he was done he didn’t move his hand. “Go out with me.”

The question threw you for a loop. You didn’t know if you were daydreaming. Did he really just ask you out? “What?”

“Go out with me. On a date. We can do the whole thing where I pick you up and tell your parents I’ll have you home by 10 and we go out, eat, talk about everything. Doesn’t it sound fun?” His hand still on your cheek.

You let out a chuckle, “You don’t date.”

“That's true but that was also before you.” His words came out as sweet as honey as he removed his hand.

“And what makes me different from other girls Byun?” You knew what made you different but you wanted to see if he knew.

“Come on a date with me and I'll tell you.” He quipped.

You were hesitant but his intentions seemed pure and genuine. “Fine. We will do the whole cheesy romantic thing.”

His smile brought out the softness in him. “I'll pick you up at 6.” He winked before walking back into the school.

The whole drive home was just you thinking of what you would wear. You wanted to look nice but not nice to the point where Baekhyun thinks you were trying to impress him. It was currently 3 and you didn't have work today so you had 3 hours to get your shit together. You took a shower and shaved your legs first and foremost. Then you moved onto your makeup. Lately, you've been watching makeup tutorials and you thought you developed a talent but you were wrong. you had to restart your eyes like 5 times. But eventually, you got it to a decent and cute point. You had another hour before Baekhyun would pick you up, enough time for hair and clothes. You decided to go for a half up half down moment and curl the ends. Deciding what to wear was the hardest task for you. You opted for a cute plain white tee and a cute pleated skirt because of the impending summer weather. After all, you shaved your legs so might as well flaunt them. Your timing was perfect because by the time you did your touch up you heard the doorbell rang. You went with some simple black heeled boots that went up to your ankle. You threw them on and opened the door to see Baekhyun decked out in a white hoodie with a jean jacket for an overcoat and washed out jeans. His soft brown hair was simple and managed to keep a wavy texture. It's amazing how he could dress in something so ordinary and still look like he walked off the runway. He beat you to the punch of complimenting.

“You look pretty,” He said with a cute blush.

“I could say the same for you.” You smiled. “I guess we unintentionally matched.”

“If this isn't a sign then I don't know what is.” He chuckled.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “So where are we going?”

“Well, I was thinking we could eat dinner at this new restaurant that opened up. Then see where that leads us.” He opened the door for you like a gentleman.

You both buckled up and Baekhyun started the car. He was driving towards a pretty nice part of town. He pulled into a restaurant that was pretty bare. Not many people were there which was nice for you because it would suck having to talk over others the whole night. But even if no one was there it was fancy enough to need reservations which Baekhyun made ahead of time.

“Table for two?” The hostess asked, to which Baekhyun nodded. “Ok right this way.” She led you to your table and Baekhyun walked ahead to pull a chair out for you. You thanked him for his kind gesture. “Here is the menu. Your waiter should be with you shortly,” both of you thanked her before she left to take care of more customers.

“I heard the chef is world class.” You commented after seeing the name Do Kyungsoo on the menu under the chef’s special. You remembered reading some article about how much he has accomplished for himself at such a young age.

“Well, then I guess we have to get the chef’s special.”

“It’s only right,” you played along.

But when the waiter came to get your order Baekhyun had ordered the specials. You weren’t bitter because you were looking forward to practically anything on the menu.

Baekhyun took this time to try and get to know you better. Although you guys hung out every day after school for a month he still felt there was more to you then what meets the eye. So you guys talked and talked. Talked about how you broke your wrist when you were 7 because you tried to backflip off the monkey bars. Talked about how he stole his class pet on accident. You told him things that you have only ever told two other people in your life and it was scary. Why were you telling him everything so quickly? It was like it was second nature to you. Then you guys hit the topic of music while you were sharing a chocolate cake for dessert.

“I think I’ve always had an interest for singing but I didn’t have people around me to encourage it.” He paused to look at you. “Until I met you.”

You shook your head modestly with a piece of cake in your mouth, “I merely let you know that you were talented and had potential.”

“Yeah, no one has ever said that to me besides football scouts. My parents are very busy people and never really had time for me. The only time my dad acknowledged me was when I had a football in my hand.”

It’s like you could physically feel your heartache. You were fortunate enough to grow up with parents who supported you in everything you did. Even though Baekhyun had an envied lifestyle to most what went on behind closed doors was heartbreaking. You reached across to hold his hand in yours. His eyes found yours and your gaze held. “You have more value than you think.”

With his eyes still fixated on you, he gave a cheeky smile. “When it's coming from you I believe it.”

Dinner came to a close and you offered to split the check with him but he refused and paid for it in full. You were the kind of person who didn’t like when people paid for you. It made you feel dirty, maybe it was just the way you were raised. So to set things equal you offered to pay for games at the arcade. Baekhyun didn’t seem to mind it. The arcade wasn’t a far walk from where you had dinner so you decided to just walk. It was a bit chilly outside due to the fact that it was early March and you were in a skirt. A shiver ran over you which was picked up on by Baekhyun. He took off his overcoat and put it on you. You gave him a small thank you and held the jacket close. It smelled like strawberries a familiar scent of Baekhyun’s. His hand had grazed yours more often than not and eventually, he took your hand in his and laced his fingers through your own. The gesture was a little surprising but it gave you some added comfort and warmth you didn’t know you needed. The walk was quiet and when you arrived at the arcade you got $20 worth of coins to use between the both of you. Baekhyun was instantly drawn towards the shooting games and you weren’t the least bit shocked since you were aware of his love for PUBG. You agreed to play against him even if you lacked the skills but why not try and give him a run for his money. As expected he beat you and even though you knew he would you still gave a small pout.

“How about basketball?” Baekhyun suggested.

“I suck but I guess we could try it.” You said being a good sport.

You lied, you were amazing at arcade basketball. After losing to your dad for 17 years you got tired and decided to dedicate yourself to get good and you did. You just wanted to play around with Baekhyun and see how big his ego could get. When you won him 78-56 it was his turn to pout.

“You hustled me,” he said upset from his loss.

“I wouldn’t call it hustling. I just told a white lie,” You gave a smug grin with your reply feeling amazing from your win.

Both of you played more games and went back and forth beating each other. You always found a way to redeem yourself after a loss. Eventually, you guys ran out of coins and had to go. You left the arcade the way you came in, hand in hand.

“How the hell are you so good at air hockey?” Baekhyun asked feeling the defeat.

“My dad never let me win so I had to get good.” You shrugged. “What about you? There is no way you can be THAT good at Mario Kart.”

“Me, Chanyeol, and Sehun play it almost every time they come over.”

In the period of time that you guys were walking to the car, you got closer to him. Close to the point where you could rest your head on his broad shoulder. The ride home was peaceful and the music in the back was white noise. But he sang along to a song that came on the radio and his voice was enough to make the smile stayed glued to your face. Your hands still stayed attached even while he was driving. He would turn to you to sing at certain parts which made you blush like a dork. But he only found it cute. You were disappointed when you saw your house in sight. It meant the night was over. Being the gentleman he was, he walked you to your door.

“I really enjoyed tonight.” You hummed in honesty.

“I did too. I hope we can do it again.”

“I’d like that,” you nodded. A big part of you hoped he would kiss you before he left. It felt like a perfect ending to a perfect night. As if he was reading your thoughts he leaned in to connect his lips to yours. It was like you thought, his lips soft and pillowy with enough power to send a shock through your body. The kiss deepened before you both instinctually pulled away when the door opened. You separated from each other when you saw your dad standing in the doorway. Feeling ashamed the two of you looked down, avoiding eye contact with your dad at all costs.

“You must be Baekhyun,” his low voice rumbled making Baekhyun even more nervous.

Your date looked up with an awkward smile on his face, “Yes I am sir.” He was being so formal. He stuck his hand out for a handshake from your father to which he accepted.

“I hope you treated my daughter well. I’m happy you had her home when you promised.” His grip on Baekhyun not letting up. “In the future, I hope you keep it up.”

Baekhyun nodded rapidly in response and tried to pull his hand away. You noticed his hand being squeezed and put a stop to it. “Dad Baekhyun was just leaving.”

Your dad let go and Baekhyun immediately took his sore hand and tried to shake the pain off. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

You waved goodbye and stepped into the house before your dad closed the door. As soon as it closed you looked at him with a serious glare.

“I think he likes me,” your dad joked.

You groaned and stomped upstairs. You were too preoccupied with the whole debacle downstairs that you forgot to give Baekhyun his jacket. You shrugged and decided to give it back on Monday. After removing all your makeup and settling down in comfortable closed you laid in bed just thinking about everything that happened tonight. If someone had told you that you would be going on date with Byun Baekhyun you would have laughed in their face. The Baekhyun you met was different from the Baekhyun you saw tonight. You noticed a light change over the time you have been with him. He was more open and optimistic about things. At one point in your after-school rendezvous, you considered him a friend. Then you thought about everything he told you tonight and how vulnerable he made himself, just for you. You didn’t want to get your hopes up but you could see this going somewhere and you did not mind it one bit.

The dates became more frequent and less extravagant. Baekhyun knew you weren’t the kind of girl who was about the glitz and glam. It was a change of pace from the girls he was with before you. You were the kind of girl who took pleasure in the simple things in life. You liked going to the park and just relaxing on a blanket while you guys talked. You liked going on those duck boats where you could just laugh and enjoy. You liked car rides where you both could sing along to the radio. To put it in simple terms, you liked being with Baekhyun. Wherever he was you were smiling and having a good time. There was one date that stuck out from the others. It was your 10th date, you guys had just got back from a very fun time at the roller rink. Up until this point Baekhyun had never tried to make a move on you. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t into you for those reasons. You appreciated that he always prioritized your comfort. The night was still young and he invited you into his house. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been there. Both of you sat and talked about the events of the night and how you kept falling down. He seemed to get a kick out of it. His parents weren’t there and it wasn’t surprising. Baekhyun practically lived alone and it saddened you a bit. Baekhyun was still mocking you about your hard time at the rink and you pouted. He apologized and gave you a peck to make it better. You still pouted wanting to get more kisses from him. He fell for it and somehow you ended up on his lap with your tongue battling his for dominance. His hands had a firm grip on your waist while your hands were tangled in his hair. Unexpectedly you grind your hips down on his which emitted a moan from his lips. You pulled away with bruised lips.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here baby,” his voice low and rough which only worked in sending a tingle through you.

You smirked knowing exactly what you were doing. You moved your lips to the shell of his ear. “And what do I get if I win the game?”

“What do you want?” Baekhyun asked with a raised brow.

You gave him a look of seduction, “You.”

“Then let the games begin.”

It was unclear what the game was exactly but that didn’t stop you. You got off his lap to instead get on your knees between his legs. His bulge was apparent to you and you bit your lip in excitement. Your fingers worked on undoing his button and zipper but before your hands could pull down his pants to free his member his hand stopped you.

You looked up in confusion.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” This was a first, Baekhyun normally didn’t care about how things unfolded between him and his other partners but with you, he needed to know that you wanted this as much as he did.

“I’m sure,” you said with a brief nod before going back to what you were doing beforehand.

This wasn’t your first rodeo. You had experience but Baekhyun had more. It intimidated you. What if you weren’t as good as others? What if you couldn’t please him? But you put your worries aside and decided to give it your best. Both his pants and underwear were off and it left his erect cock out in the open. You now knew why girls kept coming back. Your hand gripped his length and began pumping it his precum spreading around the tip. Baekhyun let out a string of moans as you worked your hand up and down. You decided to take it up a notch and wrap your lips around it. That was the key you needed to unlock the Baekhyun you wanted to see tonight. He moved your hair from your face as you took him in deeper and deeper to the point where you could feel him in the back of your throat.

“You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth.” He provoked you to continue. Your hand and mouth worked together to bring him to the edge. “Fuck baby I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” That’s when you pulled away.

You wiped the sides of your mouth, “If you are cumming anywhere it’s inside me.”

That flipped a switch, he pulled you up and quickly brought his lips to meet yours. “I need you now.” Desperation oozing.

“Then take me.”

That was all he needed to lift you up and bring you up to his room. You squealed at the sudden action but you were ready for what was to come. Literally. You were still fully clothed but Baekhyun changed that real quick. He discarded every piece of clothing you had on leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you’d feel embarrassed but Baekhyun made you feel beautiful in your own skin. He followed after and removed his clothes as well. It was dark and the only source of light you got came from the beaming moon. Baekhyun was working on making a hickey museum on your neck. His lips trailed down your body further and further till it got to your dripping core. Normally you would have loved for him to ravish you with his lips but the only thing you wanted right now was his dick. Before he could swipe his tongue over your folds you pulled him up.

“I just want you tonight,” you said looking into the eyes you began to adore as time went on.

He reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a condom. You were on the pill but it was nice to know that he was safe. A little extra precaution wouldn’t hurt. His lips found yours again and he passionately kissed you before he slowly pushed himself into your entrance. The stretch was sensational, he fits you perfectly. His thrusts were slow which Baekhyun wasn’t used to. He was more of a fast paced, hard, and dirty kind of man. But this time he wanted to savor every moment with you. He wanted to make it pleasurable for both of you. His name never sounded as beautiful than it did now when you were saying it. He picked up the pace a little which drove you crazier. You didn’t need to say it for him to know you were close. His hand reached between your bodies and began to rub your clit to give you what you needed to bring you to that state of euphoria. After a couple more thrusts you were coming done around him, your breathing ragged as you whispered his name. Baekhyun wasn’t finished yet but you knew what he needed. His erection kept going as your pussy clenched around it. He didn’t last long after that. He unloaded himself in the condom and finished with kisses between your breasts and face. The room was filled with heavy breathing and the smell of sex. He pulled out and rolled over to lay beside you. He took off the condom and threw it in the trash by his bed.

You and your body were exhausted. You turned over on your side to face Baekhyun. He still managed to look breathtaking. He was tired as well. You didn’t want to make him drive you home and quite frankly you didn’t want to leave either. It was a good thing your parents were out of town for their anniversary. The timing was amazing. Baekhyun was struggling with staying up. His eyes kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Meanwhile, you just laid there admiring him and how adorable he looked. His shaggy hair blocked his eyes slightly so you gently moved it. Being this close you could see all his moles that marked his beautiful face. You traced them like it was some game of connecting the dots. He must have been asleep because he made no complaint. This sight was something you treasure. You felt like you could fall asleep like this every day. This is what falling felt like. It felt like the world was just the two of you. You had fallen and you didn’t want to get up.

“I love you.” You whispered to yourself even though it was meant for him.

Just as you were about to follow after him and sleep you heard his soft voice. “I love you too.”

[archivesofcreation]

NOVA INTERVIEWS THE FATHER OF INTELLIGENT DESIGN

Defending Intelligent Design

Phillip Johnson is known as the father of intelligent design. The idea in its current form appeared in the 1980s, and Johnson adopted and developed it after Darwinian evolution came up short, in his view, in explaining how all organisms, including humans, came into being. Johnson taught law for over 30 years at the University of California at Berkeley and is the author of the book Darwin on Trial, in which he argues that empirical evidence in support of Darwin's theory is lacking. In this interview, hear why he feels that such evidence is "somewhere between weak and nonexistent," why he feels intelligent design is a testable science, and why he thought the Dover trial was a train wreck waiting to happen. "This whole Darwinian story, it seems to me, has been very much oversold," says Phillip Johnson. "It is an imaginative story that has been spun on the basis of very little evidence." NOVA: What is intelligent design? Phillip Johnson: I would like to put a basic explanation of the intelligent-design concept as I understand it this way. There are two hypotheses to consider scientifically. One is you need a creative intelligence to do all the creating that has been done in the history of life; the other is you don't, because we can show that unintelligent, purposeless, natural processes are capable of doing and actually did do the whole job. Now, that is what is taught as fact in our textbooks. And to me it's a hypothesis, which needs to be tested by evidence and experiment. If it can't be confirmed by experiment, then you're left with the same two possibilities, and neither one should be said to be something like a scientific fact. Why do you think some people do not accept evolution? I think they see a problem. I don't think it's that they're ignorant. I think that they see that what's being given to them as evolution is less than science in that it hasn't really been proved, and yet it's presented as if it were proved. And on the other hand, it's more than science, in that it contains the whole philosophy behind it, metaphysics as it were. As I understand it from reading your books and critiques, you see "materialism" as a very destructive thing in society. Can you tell me about this? Well, by materialism I don't mean consumerism. I'm not talking about people who are greedy for material things. I'm talking about a philosophical system that explains what is real and what is not. A philosophical materialist believes that everything is, at the bottom, material composition. You start with the fundamental particles that compose matter and energy. Another word for essentially the same thing is naturalism. It's stated a little bit differently. Naturalism says nature is all there is, and nature is made of those particles. (Don't let the distinction between matter and energy confuse you on this, because energy, like matter, is composed of particles according to the naturalistic viewpoint.) Now, naturalism was most flamboyantly stated in the Cosmos series by Carl Sagan, which I remember watching many years ago. Sagan began that series with the pronouncement that the cosmos is all there ever was and all there ever will be. Nature is all there is, all there ever was, and all there ever will be, with nature being these substances that make up the stars and the particles that make up the different kinds of radiation that come from them. But that's all that there is. A philosophy of naturalism or materialism is what generates the Darwinian theory. It's what generates the certainty that only unintelligent natural forces were involved in evolution, which is to say in the creative process that brought our kind into existence as well as all the animals and all the plants. That is all a non-negotiable claim on their part. And why is it a non-negotiable claim? Because if the naturalistic starting point isn't valid—if it isn't completely correct—then something else must have happened. What is that something else? It's something that they don't like that might get a foothold in science itself. Maybe the creator is something more than an imaginary projection of people's minds. Maybe a creator is a necessary part of reality. Are there social consequences to this philosophy of naturalism or materialism that you describe? Yes, absolutely. Now, these consequences may be good or they may be bad. And they are attractive to some people and unattractive to others. For example, the naturalistic viewpoint is praised by those who like it for its tendency to liberate us from religious authority. But what's the negative side? My understanding is you see not the positive side of materialism but the negative side. I'm happy to concede that there is a positive way of looking at something and a negative way of looking at something. The negative side is that the naturalistic viewpoint leaves the way open for a kind of freedom from divine authority, a kind of moral anarchy.

God or nature

Is this a motivation for what you do? It is a motivation, and I don't think that there's anything wrong with that. I was an agnostic from the time I was a junior high school student up until my very late 30s. I had the kind of upbringing that is most likely to produce agnostics, a conventional kind of church-going requirement that never became real to me. I went to Sunday School because in those days mothers thought that was a good thing for their children on Sunday morning, and dropped my father off at the golf course. I grew up from that learning that when you got old enough so that your mother couldn't tell you what to do anymore, what you did was you played golf on Sunday morning. So I was an agnostic, and then when I went away to Harvard as a college student, that tendency was very much encouraged. I grew up thinking that to be intelligent or well-educated was to be agnostic and to be liberal in politics. I went through various things in life and found that the agnostic pattern in which I had become socialized was not adequate for me. I became a Christian, and I found a kind of structure for my life that seemed to be a very good thing and to this day has enabled me to get through crises like two strokes. And how did you come to view evolution? One thing that fascinated me about the study of evolution was that it seemed to me to give a window into a very fundamental question that was bothering me: Is God real or imaginary? As I read all of the evolutionary literature written for the general public, I saw that some of the proponents of Darwinian evolution were hard-core atheists like Richard Dawkins, and others were not. Some of them took a view that religion or belief in God is alright if you want that sort of a thing, but they assumed that it was an imaginary thing. I could see that this is why there was so much insistence upon the Darwinian story. Believing in Darwinian evolution doesn't prove that there's no God. What it proves is that there's no need for God's participation to get all the creating done. Now, is that true? I was fascinated with that question of what's fundamentally true. If this Darwinian story is true, then nature does have all the creative power it needs to produce plants and animals and people. But if the story isn't true, if it doesn't fit the evidence, then maybe the creator is something more than an imaginary projection of people's minds. Maybe a creator is a necessary part of reality. That to me was a fascinating issue. It certainly motivated me to think that this was an important subject, not just for biologists or even scientists but for people at large. So it was legitimate for a law professor to address it and for the public to make up their own minds about it rather than to take the word of the experts. That's what makes it important.

Evidence for evolution

As we've gone about making this documentary, we've met professors in the natural sciences who'll say, "Let me just show you this mountain of evidence," and they show us fossil after fossil. Are these things not evidence of evolution? They all exist. The question is what are they evidence of? Are they evidence of a mindless and purposeless evolutionary process? It may be that there was a slow development of one kind of thing into something else. But the important question to me is: Could this all occur solely by unintelligent, purposeless, material processes? Can we say that that has been confirmed? The theory of evolution may be true in a sense, but it may require the participation of an intelligent cause. That is the basic intelligent-design proposition—that unintelligent causes by themselves can't do the whole job. That doesn't say that everything was created all at once. So what does intelligent design say about how life was created and how we ended up with the diversity of life we see today? Well, the alternative is not well developed, so I would prefer to say that, as far as I'm concerned, the alternative is we don't really know what happened. But if non-intelligence couldn't do the whole job, then intelligence had to be involved in some way. Then it's a big research job to figure out the consequences of that starting point. How would you go about testing for the existence of a designer? What is the research program? I'd like to start with the first question. It is sometimes said that the hypothesis that there is a designer is untestable. This is false. It is testable, and the test is Darwinian evolution. The claim of the evolutionary biologists is that unintelligent causes did the whole job. If they can prove it, then the counter-hypothesis that you need intelligence has been tested, and it has been shown to be false. But what I concluded after reading the literature was that the claim that unintelligent processes have been shown to be capable of doing all the work of creation, from the simplest creatures to the more complex ones, is unsupported. The evidence for it lies somewhere between very weak and nonexistent. When you try to get proof, you get stories about microevolution. Instead of getting evidence of a creation story, what we're getting is evidence of temporary variation in the size of finch beaks. But they're not talking about great transformations taking place all at once. They're talking about something happening very gradually over a huge amount of time. Why couldn't that be the case? Well, why couldn't it? Often when one asks for a demonstration of the evolutionary changes that Darwinians claim, the answer that they always give is, "Well, it's done very gradually" and "This takes an enormous amount of time, millions of years, whereas we only live to be 100 if we're very long-lived, so it is quite impossible for the evolutionary change to occur in our time limits. That's why we don't see it." My logical reaction to that is that's perfectly accurate if you assume that the evolutionary change of this enormous amount actually occurs. Then you can give a satisfactory explanation for why we don't see it. But there is another possible explanation for why we don't see it. The other possibility is that it doesn't happen. I think maybe that's what the truth is. If it doesn't happen, then where do you go from there? Well, if it doesn't happen, something else must have happened. The problem became clear to me as I read further and further that the one thing that evolutionary biologists are absolutely determined to support is their starting premise that all of the changes that brought about all of the different species and kinds of life on Earth happened by purely natural causes like random mutation and natural selection. So while there can be arguments over the details, there can be no argument or discussion over the fundamental principle that only natural—which is to say unintelligent—causes were involved. The reason why that premise of natural causes has to be so inviolate and so ferociously defended is that what if something other than purely natural causes was involved? What would it be? Well, the most obvious answer to that question is it would be God. And they regard this possibility with horror, because it seems to unseat all of their science. It seems to take them back to the beginning or to the Dark Ages, as they would tend to say. You get God in there and that's the end of science, they think, so that can't be. But I wondered, maybe it could be. I viewed myself as much more unprejudiced in that matter. I was willing to believe in a biological creation by Darwinian mechanism if it could actually be proved. But if it couldn't be proved, I thought it was quite legitimate to think of something else.

Beyond science

Do they really regard it with horror, or are they just saying, "This is something that is beyond what science can address?" At that point I would say if we can't consider the other possibility then let's not consider it. That's alright with me. But that doesn't mean that we know what did happen. This whole Darwinian story, it seems to me, has been very much oversold. And everybody is told that it's absolutely certain and certainly true, and because it's called science it has been proved again and again by absolutely unquestionable procedures. But this is not true. It is an imaginative story that has been spun on the basis of very little evidence. Many scientists ask, "How do I go about testing intelligent design?" And if I understand correctly, you were saying that the test of intelligent design is whether something can be explained by evolutionary theory. But scientists say that's just a negative argument. That doesn't prove anything about intelligent design. How would you respond? My business was actually making negative arguments. I looked at the grand story of evolution, the story that is important, the one that catches the imagination of the world and stirs controversy. This is the story that there's no need for a creator or a designer because the whole job can be done by unintelligent material processes. We know that that's absolutely true, such that any dissent from it should be treated as akin to madness. That's what I was looking at. We ought to see humans occasionally being born to chimps or perhaps chimps born into human families. Now, at this point the absolute certainty, the dogmatic insistence with which the Darwinists told their story, began to have a boomerang effect. Because it alerted me to the possibility that something is wrong here. If these folks can't even recognize that this isn't that convincing a story, then there's something wrong with their thinking. That was the starting point for my book Darwin on Trial. I thought, This is not something we should trust as a creation story for all of life, because instead of getting evidence of a creation story, what we're getting is evidence of temporary variation in the size of finch beaks or the color of peppered moths in a species. This is a totally different story. It's quite inadequate for the purpose, I thought. And I think the world should understand this.

On common ancestry

How do you explain our genetic relatedness with chimpanzees? There is a relatedness. But what does it mean? Say we have almost 99 percent of our genes in common with chimpanzees. We also have at least 25 percent of our genes in common with bananas. There are these commonalities that exist throughout life. Do they point to a common evolutionary process or a common creator? That is the question for interpretation. The genes are going to win when people ask me about that great degree of similarity between human genes and chimpanzee genes. I answer that genes must not be anywhere near as important as we have been led to believe. If there were that great a commonality between chimps and humans, it ought to be relatively easy to breed chimps and come up with a human being, or by genetic engineering to change a chimp into a human. We ought to see humans occasionally being born to chimps or perhaps chimps born into human families. So the real question to me that needs to be explained is the enormous difference between chimps and human beings. That's what evolutionary science needs to explain and can't explain. Isn't the most likely explanation that there is common ancestry? It might be because of common ancestry. That is definitely a possibility to be considered. I'm just not insistent that common ancestry is true. It's a possibility. Is there some other explanation for genetic relatedness besides common ancestry? That's a possibility that has to be considered also, that there's a commonality not only between chimps and humans, but among all life. It's a common biochemistry. And thus this might be pointing to a single evolutionary process, or it might be pointing to the responsibility of a single creator.

Evidence for ID

What is the evidence for intelligent design? What if the Darwinian mechanism doesn't have the creative power claimed for it? Then something else has to be true. It's two sides of the same coin as I look at it, and that's why I've always devoted my energies to making the skeptical case about Darwinism. Others have evidence of a positive nature—irreducible complexity and complex specified information are part of that. To understand the positive evidence I think we have to realize that Darwin was writing a long time ago. He didn't understand anything about complex specified information or the irreducible complexity of the cell. In Darwin's day it was thought that cells were simply globs of a kind of jelly-like substance, a protoplasm. So it didn't seem to be very difficult to imagine how you could get a blob of some substance like mud at the bottom of a prehistoric pond, lake, or ocean. But since Darwin's day an enormous amount has been learned about the cell. This is why my colleague Michael Behe's famous book is titled Darwin's Black Box. The point there is that to Darwin the cell was a black box. It did something, but you didn't know how it did it. So the cell was a black box in Darwin's day, and now it's been opened. Thanks to the work of biochemists and molecular biologists since that time, we know that the cell is so enormously complex that it makes a spaceship or a supercomputer look rather low-tech in comparison. So I think the cell is perhaps the biggest hurdle of all for the Darwinists to get over. How do you get the first cell? It's not just that if they get the cell then everything else will be easy. But it was thought in Darwin's day that the cell was no problem at all. The only problems came after that. How do you get from cells to complex animals and then to apes, and from apes to human beings? That's the story that he told. Now, I don't think that story will hold water when you look for proof rather than just accept it as an inevitable, logical consequence of a naturalistic philosophy that you're starting out with.

Is it science?

Is intelligent design a science? I think so. To answer that question I need to go back to the point that I see the scientific question as one of choosing between two hypotheses. One is that you needed intelligence to do the creating that had to be done in the history of life, and the other is that you didn't need it. Then the scientific approach is to decide between these two hypotheses on the basis of evidence and logic. That's what I want to see done. That's why it is a scientific question. If evolution by natural selection is a scientific doctrine, then the critique of that doctrine, and even of the fundamental assumption on which it's based, is a legitimate part of science as well. As a big-picture story, the theory of evolution that we have today is invalid. Isn't intelligent design just a newer version of creationism? When people ask me whether this is creationism relabeled, one thing that always occurs to me is that the real creationist organizations are highly critical of intelligent design, because they say it doesn't do the job that is the very essence of creationism. It doesn't defend the Bible from the very first verse. It doesn't defend the Bible at all, and it doesn't even defend Christianity. It's saying that there's an intelligence, but the intelligence could be natural as well as supernatural. And that if you assume it's supernatural, what the God is—well, we have nothing to say about what kind of God it is. It isn't limited to one particular kind of religion, to Christianity or to a particular kind of Christianity. If you want, it can be the Muslim god. But if it's a supernatural cause, isn't that outside the realm of science? It's true that supernatural causes are a subject outside of science. But intelligent versus unintelligent causes is a subject very much within science. For example, forensic scientists and pathologists regularly determine whether a death was due to natural causes or intelligent causes. If somebody dies of a purported heart failure, and then they do an autopsy on the body and find signs of arsenic poisoning, they say this was not a death by natural causes; it was a poisoning. That is perfectly legitimate as a scientific inquiry. Now, if the intelligent cause turns out to be supernatural, that's a determination that is outside of science. But that you need intelligence is not a determination that's outside of science. It's the regular business of science, like deciding whether a drawing on a cave wall is a painting by prehistoric cavemen or a product of natural erosion and chemistry in the wall. Are evolution and religious beliefs compatible? Well, to a large extent it depends on what you mean by evolution. When I speak to audiences about this, I like to say that even the Darwinian theory of evolution is valid up to a point. The problem with the theory of evolution is not that it's altogether wrong, but that it's correct only in a very limited and relatively trivial sphere rather than as the grand creation story that it is made out to be. It's a good theory for how finch beaks vary in size or how disease-causing microorganisms become resistant to antibiotic medicines. So it's valid within that limited sphere, and that may be important. That's interesting in itself. Scientists are largely interested in details, whereas I'm a different kind of person. I'm interested in the big picture. As a big-picture story, the theory of evolution that we have today is invalid, although some kind of a theory might be valid. It also depends on what you mean by religious belief. Most of the evolutionary scientists will say, "We're not opposed to religious belief so long as you understand that that's what it is—it's religious belief. When you talk about God, for example, that's something that exists in the human imagination. It's something we study in the department of anthropology or psychology, where we talk about the beliefs that various kinds of people hold. Religious belief is one of those kinds of beliefs. In the university, we don't talk about it in the departments where we are considering what really happened. The beliefs may be important; they may even be beneficial. It's just that they don't reflect reality. They only reflect what's going on in people's heads." That's the metaphysics of religion and science that is taken for granted in the universities. This is something that may change. One of the things that's so controversial and so hated about the concept of intelligent causes in biology is that it threatens this division of things into naturalism, which deals with how things really are and is called science, and religious belief, which is about make-believe in people's heads out of fairy tales and the like. What would it take to convince you of the theory of evolution by natural selection? That the theory that is out there today is actually true? I would want to see evidence that the mechanism of random mutation and differential reproduction—that some organisms do more reproducing than others—that this had real creative power. It seems to me that besides the lack of physical or experimental evidence, just logically one would expect that random mutations would never build up biological information. They would tend to tear it down, even if it was already in existence. Random changes scramble information. They don't increase it or produce it. If you have a word on the Scrabble board, and you take the letters and scramble them, you don't get a better word. You get no word at all; you get nonsense. I see every reason to think that that's what happens with mutations in the cellular machinery.

A theory in crisis?

Is evolution a theory in crisis, as some people say? I think it is a theory in crisis, but that requires some explanation. The authorities of the evolutionary scientific community would say, "We're not in crisis because we're as determined as ever. We still have a solid phalanx of belief. Yes, we get individual dissenters, but they are quickly closed off and marginalized. They tend to lose their research funds, be considered no longer real scientists anymore." So the community maintains its authority. The crisis that they have to recognize is that they have failed to convince the public. They assumed that by this time they would have marginalized all the opposition and the public would be convinced. After all, they now had virtual control of the educational machinery from primary school on up through the Ph.D. level to do that. Plus all those documentaries on television and in the movies where the orthodoxy is put forward. I foresee the day when Darwinian evolution will be taught in courses on British intellectual history, and biology will have moved on. It's understood that if you want to be about science, you have to be supportive of this theory. So that's been going on all these years, and yet the people are not convinced. Why is this? The mandarins of science, the high priests at the university level, will tell you it's because the people are ignorant and prejudiced. Is that so? That's one of the questions I examined when I first took up the story. Are the people ignorant and prejudiced, or are they seeing something that the experts might have missed? See, it's a wonderful thing being an expert. As an expert, you know a lot that other people don't know. But also in the course of all your expert training, you pick up a worldview and a set of prejudices that you then become completely dependent on in order to continue to be an expert. I decided that what is happening here is that the public has seen something that the experts don't understand. The public has seen that what they are getting from the evolutionary biologists is, on the one hand, less than science. It is over-enthusiastic claims of great accomplishments that are not supported by real, observational, and experimental evidence. In that sense, it's less than science. On the other hand, it's much more than science, because it's a cultural philosophy, a worldview that probably belongs in a philosophy course rather than in a science course. I foresee the day when Darwinian evolution will be taught at universities in courses on British intellectual history, and biology will have moved on. I see it as something like alchemy. It's a precursor to real science. The alchemists must have squealed like crazy when people said you can't really change lead into gold. But it was true that you can't transform lead into gold by a chemical means. So when the alchemic ambitions were given up, then alchemy was able to change into the real science of chemistry. I see that happening as well. I think that biological science will change. It won't vanish. It will just be based on reality and on genuine scientific testing. That's what I see in the future. That's the crisis.

The Dover "train wreck"

What did you think about the Dover case? The Dover case, unfortunately, was a train wreck waiting to happen. The problem was basically that we got too much publicity, and people pick that up. You get these people out in the country who are disturbed that something is being presented and taught dogmatically to their children as true. They think that a much more balanced approach should be taken, and they're frustrated that they can't get these schools to do that. They naively believe that their school board has the authority to do what they think ought to be done. So they go to the school board to present something and in fact give the votes to put it over. What they don't understand is that they are moving into a legal minefield. The theory of evolution is ferociously protected by secularist organizations, with some backing from the courts. So the worst possible construction is going to be put on whatever they do. Very capable lawyers are going to come in to try to make fools out of them and to put every obstacle in the way of changing the dogmatic way in which evolution is presented in some of these schools. So then they hear this term intelligent design and they say, "Well, okay. If we pick up that language and do it that way, then maybe we can do this. Our school board will do that, and we can accomplish what we want to accomplish." They know then they're going to get sued, that they're a threat. So they get a lawyer. Unfortunately, the lawyer is not giving them good counsel. He's egging them on, saying, "We'll have a great battle here and we'll win." It's sort of like the dream that people had in the North in the Civil War in the early stages. If we could just have a big battle, then we'd win it and this war would be over, and that's all that we need to do. Just get into one big battle and win it all at once. That's what the lawyer is telling them. So they go ahead, thinking that they're riding a winner, and they create a train wreck. That's what happened there. As for the judge and the opinion, the problem is that the judge didn't just decide the local case in front of him. He decided that he wanted to become a national figure by deciding the whole question of evolution and creation for the country in one opinion. So he wrote an opinion as big and broad as a starry sky, saying that the notion of intelligence, that one of these two hypotheses, was not eligible for consideration because it was religion and hence by definition not science. So any attempt in that direction was unconstitutional. He is being rewarded for that opinion with all the accolades that the mandarins of science have at their disposal.

Driving a wedge

Let's turn to your other work. Can you tell me what the "wedge strategy" is? I'm glad for an opportunity to explain the wedge strategy, because I conceived it. I know it can be made to sound like something sinister and conspiratorial. But the wedge strategy as I have explained it is quite simple and innocent. We need somebody who can get a debate started, and then we need people who have the expertise to answer the questions that come up as the debate gets started. When you use a wedge to split a log, you start with the sharp edge of the wedge and then you gradually push that in until you get the thicker edge to go in, and that's what's actually splits the log. I thought of it this way with Darwinism. I thought my job is to be the sharp edge, to use my academic credentials and legal abilities to get some hearing for the proposition that there really is something fundamentally wrong with the Darwinian story. It's not just a problem of detail, but rather a fundamental problem that the mechanism has no creative power. But I can't answer all the questions that arise. So we need other people to form the thick edge of the wedge to take on the questions that do require a scientific expertise. Like a professor of biochemistry, Michael Behe, and a mathematician and philosopher of science, William Demsky. They have to take up other questions that arise and do some of the job that I'm not well-equipped to do after I've got things going with my arguments from logic and evidence. That's what the wedge is. Is the Wedge Document your work? Did you write it? I did not, but I did write a book called The Wedge of Truth. And so in that sense, just as I'm in a sense the father of the intelligent-design movement, I'm the father of the wedge concept. In the sense in which I have explained it, that it is a matter of my particular kind of logical arguing expertise at the beginning, to be supplemented and eventually replaced by people with greater scientific knowledge and competence. This is more than anything my faith: that given an even chance, the truth will win. What's the strategy from here? Where does the wedge go from here? At my rather advanced age I don't claim to take the leadership position in the same sense that I did years ago. It's largely going to depend on other people. In fact, what I am largely doing now is making contacts with people in the educational world. I hope we don't ever get another public schools case here for a very long time. If one comes up, I want to stay away from it. But I think that the place where the kind of controversies I'm addressing belong is in the universities. That's where I want to take them. And they are being taken there. The professors are finding that these issues come up in their classes, and students think highly of the positions that I've been arguing, or many of them do. I am in touch constantly with young scholars, including people in Ph.D. programs in biology, who see that there is something wrong with the Darwinian theory and would like to do something about it when they can. They like to talk with me because they don't want to get involved in the traditional creationist movement. They see that as going too far away from the current scientific orthodoxy. I think they want to do what I set out to do when I first crafted the intelligent-design movement—to come out with a position that was not so enormously different from current orthodoxy that it couldn't be discussed but was different enough that it was really upsetting. In the end, I think I came up with something that was even more upsetting than I thought it was going to be. People will be the professors of biology in the next generation, the opinion writers, the producers of television programs, and the editorial writers at newspapers. I have a commission to deal in education and not in litigation. We have a group that we call informally the "second wedge," which consists of literary people and writers and artists who discuss the issues of design, of intelligent causes in the history of life, and whether the naturalistic orthodoxy is as solidly based in evidence as it claims to be. This, I think, may bear great fruit in the future in our culture. The Darwinists may have the federal district judges, or some of them, on their side. But the people are skeptical of what they hear from authority figures, including judges, anyway. I think the goal in the future is to change the intellectual face of the culture so that it isn't the way it was when I first went to college, when we were all taught that to be intelligent implies that you're agnostic. Now, the universities are still that way by and large. But they aren't that way at the undergraduate level or even the graduate student level. Much is changing, and I'm trying to be a part of that.

An edifice threatened?

Is there anything else you would like to add? I could go back to the question of the definition of science. That is perhaps more crucial than anything else. I have a view of science that is now disputed by secularist organizations and also by the most powerful organizations of science. I don't think they speak for science. I think they speak for an ideology that is widely held among contemporary scientists. This is the ideology of naturalism. And that is basically a religious position: The cosmos is all there is, all there ever was, and all there ever will be. That isn't something that is established by data or tested by experiment. It's a fundamentally religious position or an ideology that has grown into science. The opinion of powerful people associated with scientific organizations has become central to its definition. And so they see the whole edifice as being threatened if that definition is called into question. But I would call it into question. I would say that the proper definition of science is that it is a question of what follows from data and experimental testing. If you cannot test by experiment the claim that natural selection has the kind of immense creative power necessary to produce human beings or even biological cells, then to say that this mechanism can do these wonders is an unscientific statement. It's a statement of personal belief, a statement of philosophy, not a statement of science. What is at stake? Well, prestige is not for me. I'm going to be 67 this year, and by the time further developments happen, I expect to have passed on from this world. Things that excited me years ago will no longer be of any concern to me. So that's not it. I think that the world will change, and I think that in these open debates, the truth will eventually win out. This is more than anything my faith: that given an even chance, the truth will win. If the evolutionary story is the truth, it will eventually win out as its partisans have been predicting that it would all along. It will hold not merely the societies of experts, but it will convince the public. I think that the reason it hasn't been able to convince the public is that it's not the truth. The public will gradually come to understand things better and better. The educational process will get better. We'll start with the truth, and the truth will prevail, whatever it is. And what is your view of the truth? My view of the truth is that there is a creator. I don't know how long the creator took, but I think there was a process of creation, and the evolution that has occurred has occurred within the boundaries originally set. That would be my belief as of now. I tend to think that that will prevail, because I think it's the truth. But if it's not the truth, it won't prevail, and it shouldn't. ORIGINAL ARTICLE - PBS.ORG - DEFENDING INTELLIGENT DESIGN Read the full article

[whimsiesofanerdgirl]

Choose Your Own Adventure | Spooky Edition

October is here and you know what that means…GIMMEH ALL THE SPOOKY BOOKS!!!

We all know that Fall is THE season for reading, I don’t make up the rules. I just go with it.

It’s the first official month of coziness, hoodies, the best smelling candles, leaves changing, watching scary movies, and reading all those atmospheric books you’ve been saving up for the best time of the year! :)

I thought it would be fun to make a list of different spooky books depending on your preference so I categorized them because I like organizing book lists. I should have a plaque for it. Seriously.

So read on to get scary, spooky, and paranormal recommended reads. Then go get yourself the book and hunker down under a fluffy blanket and read to your heart’s content. <3

GHOSTS, HAUNTINGS, & THE DEAD

The Mediator series by Meg Cabot

Synopsis:

Suze is a mediator -- a liaison between the living and the dead. In other words, she sees dead people. And they won't leave her alone until she helps them resolve their unfinished business with the living. But Jesse, the hot ghost haunting her bedroom, doesn't seem to need her help. Which is a relief, because Suze has just moved to sunny California and plans to start fresh, with trips to the mall instead of the cemetery, and surfing instead of spectral visitations.

But the very first day at her new school, Suze realizes it's not that easy. There's a ghost with revenge on her mind ... and Suze happens to be in the way.

I loved reading these when I was in high school, but I still need to finish reading them all. It’s an oldie and a goodie! Plus, Suze has a good looking ghost named Jesse haunting her bedroom so there’s that too. ;)

Soul Screamers series by Rachel Vincent

Synopsis:

She doesn't see dead people. She senses when someone near her is about to die. And when that happens, a force beyond her control compels her to scream bloody murder. Literally. Kaylee just wants to enjoy having caught the attention of the hottest guy in school. But a normal date is hard to come by when Nash seems to know more about her need to scream than she does. And when classmates start dropping dead for no apparent reason, only Kaylee knows who'll be next.

I heard so much hype about this series, mostly positive things, but have yet to actually read it off my TBR. The ratings range from 3.5+ to 4ish stars so it must be good!

The Fade by Demitria Lunetta

Synopsis:

We don't want to disappear. We want to be found. Something terrible happened in her basement. Haley can feel it. Four girls went missing several years ago, and the police never solved the case. But Haley know the missing girls were murdered. How else can she explain the hostile presence in her house? The ghostly girls need something from her. And unless Haley can figure out what they want...she might be next.

The Witch of Willow Hall by Hester Fox

Synopsis:

Two centuries after the Salem witch trials, there’s still one witch left in Massachusetts. But she doesn’t even know it. Take this as a warning: if you are not able or willing to control yourself, it will not only be you who suffers the consequences but those around you, as well. New Oldbury, 1821 In the wake of a scandal, the Montrose family and their three daughters—Catherine, Lydia, and Emeline—flee Boston for their new country home, Willow Hall. The estate seems sleepy and idyllic. But a subtle menace creeps into the atmosphere, remnants of a dark history that call to Lydia, and to the youngest, Emeline. All three daughters will be irrevocably changed by what follows, but none more than Lydia, who must draw on a power she never knew she possessed if she wants to protect those she loves. For Willow Hall’s secrets will rise, in the end…

Haunting Emma series by Lee Nichols

Synopsis:

When Emma Vaile's parents leave on mysterious business trip, it gives her the perfect excuse to be a rebellious teen. Throw some parties, get a tattoo (or maybe just a piercing), and enjoy the first few weeks of her junior year. Then her best friend stops talking to her, the cops crash her party, and Emma finds herself in the hands of a new guardian?her college-age "knight in J.Crew armor," Bennett Stern?and on a plane to his museum-like mansion in New England.

After enrolling at Thatcher Academy, Emma settles in by making friends with the popular legacy crowd. But she can't shake the strange visions that are haunting her. She has memories of Thatcher she can't explain, as if she's returning home to a place she's never been. Emma doesn't trust anyone anymore?except maybe Bennett. But he's about to reveal a ghostly secret to Emma. One that will explain the visions . . . and make Emma fear for her life.

The Soul Seekers series by Alyson Noel

Synopsis:

Until now, he's existed only in her dreams - but fate is about to bring them together. I shove through the crowd, knocking into girls and bouncing off boys, until one in particular catches me, steadies me. I feel so secure, so at home in his arms. I melt against his chest-lift my gaze to meet his. Gasping when I stare into a pair of icy blue eyes banded by brilliant flecks of gold that shine like kaleidoscopes, reflecting my image thousands of times. The boy from my dream. The one who died in my arms. Strange things are happening to Daire Santos. Crows mock her, glowing people stalk her, time stops without warning, and a beautiful boy with unearthly blue eyes haunts all her dreams. Fearing for her daughter’s sanity, Daire’s mother sends her to live with the grandmother she’s never met. A woman who recognizes the visions for what they truly are—the call to her destiny as a Soul Seeker—one who can navigate the worlds between the living and dead. There on the dusty plains of Enchantment, New Mexico, Daire sets out to harness her mystical powers. But it’s when she meets Dace, the boy from her dreams, that her whole world is shaken to its core. Now Daire is forced to discover if Dace is the one guy she's meant to be with...or if he’s allied with the enemy she's destined to destroy.

This is another series I need to finish! I got through book 3, but it definitely kept my attention. I haven’t read a lot of books about Native American rituals and I found it so fascinating in this series. Not to mention the cute boy and spirit walking!

HORROR

The Last ApprenticeI series by Joseph Delaney

Synopsis:

For years, Old Gregory has been the Spook for the county, ridding the local villages of evil. Now his time is coming to an end. But who will take over for him? Twenty-nine apprentices have tried—some floundered, some fled, some failed to stay alive. Only Thomas Ward is left. He's the last hope, the last apprentice.

I’ve never read this series though I have watched the movie which I enjoyed. From what I’ve heard from my hubby it’s a super freaky book series and to be honest the book covers confirm that for me!

The Archived series by Victoria Schwab

Synopsis:

Imagine a place where the dead rest on shelves like books. Each body has a story to tell, a life seen in pictures only Librarians can read. The dead are called Histories, and the vast realm in which they rest is the Archive. Da first brought Mackenzie Bishop here four years ago, when she was twelve years old, frightened but determined to prove herself. Now Da is dead, and Mac has grown into what he once was: a ruthless Keeper, tasked with stopping often violent Histories from waking up and getting out. Because of her job, she lies to the people she loves, and she knows fear for what it is: a useful tool for staying alive. Being a Keeper isn't just dangerous—it's a constant reminder of those Mac has lost, Da's death was hard enough, but now that her little brother is gone too, Mac starts to wonder about the boundary between living and dying, sleeping and waking. In the Archive, the dead must never be disturbed. And yet, someone is deliberately altering Histories, erasing essential chapters. Unless Mac can piece together what remains, the Archive itself may crumble and fall. In this haunting, richly imagined novel, Victoria Schwab reveals the thin lines between past and present, love and pain, trust and deceit, unbearable loss and hard-won redemption.

The strange thing about this series is that I never heard much about it online. I came across it randomly scouring Goodreads one day last year or so. Victoria Schwab is basically the dark fantasy queen in the online YA community which is partially the reason I put it on my TBR list. Recently it’s been in the news that we will be getting a TV series for it on the CW so boys and girls bump this up on your TBR so you don’t miss out!

Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children series by Ransom Riggs

Synopsis:

A mysterious island. An abandoned orphanage. A strange collection of very curious photographs. It all waits to be discovered in Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, an unforgettable novel that mixes fiction and photography in a thrilling reading experience. As our story opens, a horrific family tragedy sets sixteen-year-old Jacob journeying to a remote island off the coast of Wales, where he discovers the crumbling ruins of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. As Jacob explores its abandoned bedrooms and hallways, it becomes clear that the children were more than just peculiar. They may have been dangerous. They may have been quarantined on a deserted island for good reason. And somehow-impossible though it seems-they may still be alive. A spine-tingling fantasy illustrated with haunting vintage photography, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children will delight adults, teens, and anyone who relishes an adventure in the shadows.

If this book is anything like the movie it is FREAKY! I’d give this 5 out of 5 stars for the scary factor. You’ve been forewarned.

The Missing Season by Gillian French

Synopsis:

Whenever another kid goes missing in October, the Pender kids know what is really behind it: a horrific monster out in the marshes they have named the Mumbler. That’s what Clara’s new crew tells her when she moves to town: Bree and Sage, who take her under their wing; spirited Trace, who has taken the lead on this year’s Halloween prank war; and magnetic Kincaid, whose devil-may-care attitude and air of mystery are impossible for Clara to resist. Clara doesn’t actually believe in the Mumbler. But as Halloween gets closer and tensions build in the town, it’s hard to shake the feeling that there really is something dark and dangerous in Pender, lurking in the shadows, waiting to bring the stories to life.

His Hideous Heart by 13 YA Authors / Edited by Dahlia Adler

Synopsis:

Thirteen of YA’s most celebrated names reimagine Edgar Allan Poe’s most surprising, unsettling, and popular tales for a new generation. Edgar Allan Poe may be a hundred and fifty years beyond this world, but the themes of his beloved works have much in common with modern young adult fiction. Whether the stories are familiar to readers or discovered for the first time, readers will revel in Edgar Allan Poe’s classic tales, and how they’ve been brought to life in 13 unique and unforgettable ways. Contributors include Kendare Blake (reimagining “Metzengerstein”), Rin Chupeco (“The Murders in the Rue Morge”), Lamar Giles (“The Oval Portrait”), Tessa Gratton (“Annabel Lee”), Tiffany D. Jackson (“The Cask of Amontillado”), Stephanie Kuehn (“The Tell-Tale Heart”), Emily Lloyd-Jones (“The Purloined Letter”), Hillary Monahan (“The Masque of the Red Death”), Marieke Nijkamp (“Hop-Frog”), Caleb Roehrig (“The Pit and the Pendulum”), and Fran Wilde (“The Fall of the House of Usher”).

The Beast is an Animal by Peternelle van Arsdale

Synopsis:

A girl with a secret talent must save her village from the encroaching darkness in this haunting and deeply satisfying tale. Alys was seven when the soul eaters came to her village. These soul eaters, twin sisters who were abandoned by their father and slowly morphed into something not quite human, devour human souls. Alys, and all the other children, were spared—and they were sent to live in a neighboring village. There the devout people created a strict world where good and evil are as fundamental as the nursery rhymes children sing. Fear of the soul eaters—and of the Beast they believe guides them—rule village life. But the Beast is not what they think it is. And neither is Alys. Inside, Alys feels connected to the soul eaters, and maybe even to the Beast itself. As she grows from a child to a teenager, she longs for the freedom of the forest. And she has a gift she can tell no one, for fear they will call her a witch. When disaster strikes, Alys finds herself on a journey to heal herself and her world. A journey that will take her through the darkest parts of the forest, where danger threatens her from the outside—and from within her own heart and soul.

This has probably been one of the creepiest books I’ve ever read, but I’ve also never read Stephen King soooo take that however you’d like. Might want to read this one in the day time to be on the safe side.

VAMPIRES

The Beautiful by Renee Ahdieh

Synopsis:

In 1872, New Orleans is a city ruled by the dead. But to seventeen-year-old Celine Rousseau, New Orleans provides her a refuge after she's forced to flee her life as a dressmaker in Paris. Taken in by the sisters of the Ursuline convent along with six other girls, Celine quickly becomes enamored with the vibrant city from the music to the food to the soirées and—especially—to the danger. She soon becomes embroiled in the city's glitzy underworld, known as La Cour des Lions, after catching the eye of the group's leader, the enigmatic Sébastien Saint Germain. When the body of one of the girls from the convent is found in the lair of La Cour des Lions, Celine battles her attraction to him and suspicions about Sébastien's guilt along with the shame of her own horrible secret. When more bodies are discovered, each crime more gruesome than the last, Celine and New Orleans become gripped by the terror of a serial killer on the loose—one Celine is sure has set her in his sights . . . and who may even be the young man who has stolen her heart. As the murders continue to go unsolved, Celine takes matters into her own hands and soon uncovers something even more shocking: an age-old feud from the darkest creatures of the underworld reveals a truth about Celine she always suspected simmered just beneath the surface. At once a sultry romance and a thrilling murder mystery, master storyteller Renée Ahdieh embarks on her most potent fantasy series yet: The Beautiful.

There has been soooo much hype around this one and yes, it’s on my TBR. If you’re into Vampire Diaries this sounds like a great read for you!

Blue Bloods series by Melissa de la Cruz

Synopsis:

When the Mayflower set sail in 1620, it carried on board the men and women who would shape America: Miles Standish; John Alden; Constance Hopkins. But some among the Pilgrims were not pure of heart; they were not escaping religious persecution. Indeed, they were not even human. They were vampires. The vampires assimilated quickly into the New World. Rising to levels of enormous power, wealth, and influence, they were the celebrated blue bloods of American society. The Blue Bloods vowed that their immortal status would remain a closely guarded secret. And they kept that secret for centuries. But now, in New York City, the secret is seeping out. Schuyler Van Alen is a sophomore at a prestigious private school. She prefers baggy, vintage clothes instead of the Prada and pearls worn by her classmates, and she lives with her reclusive grandmother in a dilapated mansion. Schuyler is a loner...and happy that way. Suddenly, when she turns fifteen, there is a visible mosaic of blue veins on her arm. She starts to crave raw food and she is having flashbacks to ancient times. Then a popular girl from her school is found dead... drained of all her blood. Schuyler doesn't know what to think, but she wants to find out the secrets the Blue Bloods are keeping. But is she herself in danger?

I remember reading this yeeears ago when it first came out and now all I can think of is Gossip Girl, but with vampires.

Sunshine by Robin McKinley

Synopsis:

There had not been any trouble out at the lake in years. Sunshine just needed a spot where she could be alone with her thoughts for a minute. But then the vampires found her . . . Now, chained and imprisoned in a once-beautiful decaying mansion, alone but for the vampire, Constantine, shackled next to her, Sunshine realizes that she must call on her own hidden strength if she is to survive. But Constantine is not what she expected of a vampire, and soon Sunshine discovers that it is he who needs her, more than either of them know. Originally published as an adult novel, but now in YA for the first time, Sunshine is an alluring and captivating vampire story one that will ensnare fans of paranormals everywhere.

I loved this book! If you’re in the mood for something fresh in the vampire genre you should check it out. Plus, I HIGHLY recommend Robin McKinley in general. She has absolutely amazing fairy tale retellings!

Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer

Synopsis:

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him—and I didn't know how dominant that part might be—that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. In the first book of the Twilight Saga, internationally bestselling author Stephenie Meyer introduces Bella Swan and Edward Cullen, a pair of star-crossed lovers whose forbidden relationship ripens against the backdrop of small-town suspicion and a mysterious coven of vampires. This is a love story with bite.

What kind of list would this be without the Twilight saga? If you haven’t heard of this before, have you been living under a rock? It’s a great story that pulls you in - you’ve got your historical fiction back story, folklore, vampires, romance, love triangle further in the series if you’re into that kinda thing (yes, I am).

Vampire Academy series by Richelle Mead

Synopsis:

Only a true best friend can protect you from your immortal enemies . . . Lissa Dragomir is a Moroi princess: a mortal vampire with a rare gift for harnessing the earth's magic. She must be protected at all times from Strigoi; the fiercest vampires - the ones who never die. The powerful blend of human and vampire blood that flows through Rose Hathaway, Lissa's best friend, makes her a dhampir. Rose is dedicated to a dangerous life of protecting Lissa from the Strigoi, who are hell-bent on making Lissa one of them. After two years of freedom, Rose and Lissa are caught and dragged back to St. Vladimir's Academy, a school for vampire royalty and their guardians-to-be, hidden in the deep forests of Montana. But inside the iron gates, life is even more fraught with danger . . . and the Strigoi are always close by. Rose and Lissa must navigate their dangerous world, confront the temptations of forbidden love, and never once let their guard down, lest the evil undead make Lissa one of them forever . . .

This was another vampire teenage sensation of its time. I have yet to get around to reading this (I’m looking at you TBR pile…and there’s this thing called new releases, sigh), but from what I’ve heard many people enjoyed it in the online community. It’s only right that we all get a taste of this!

House of Night series by P.C. Cast & Kristin Cast

Synopsis:

After a Vampire Tracker Marks her with a crescent moon on her forehead, 16-year-old Zoey Redbird enters the House of Night and learns that she is no average fledgling. She has been Marked as special by the vampyre Goddess Nyx and has affinities for all five elements: Air, Fire Water, Earth and Spirit. But she is not the only fledgling at the House of Night with special powers. When she discovers that the leader of the Dark Daughters, the school’s most elite club, is mis-using her Goddess-given gifts, Zoey must look deep within herself for the courage to embrace her destiny – with a little help from her new vampyre friends (or Nerd Herd, as Aphrodite calls them).

This is what I’d call another popular staple of the vampire era (which tbh I feel like vamps are coming back - YESH). I’d say these were as big as the Twilight series though they must not have gotten enough hype to get its own movie series or TV show. I loved the mix of different races and magic, it wasn’t just about vampires. If you’re feeling vampires and want different elements you should give it a shot.

SHAPESHIFTERS

The Mercy Thompson series by Patricia Briggs

Synopsis:

Mercedes Thompson, aka Mercy, is a talented Volkswagen mechanic living in the Tri-Cities area of Washington. She also happens to be a walker, a magical being with the power to shift into a coyote at will. Mercy's next-door neighbor is a werewolf. Her former boss is a gremlin. And she's fixing a bus for a vampire. This is the world of Mercy Thompson, one that looks a lot like ours but is populated by those things that go bump in the night. And Mercy's connection to those things is about to get her into some serious hot water...

This is an adult paranormal romance series, but my god…I LOOOOOVE IT WITH A PASSION! This is literally in my top 5 faves and for good reason. There are a multitude of creatures/races and I really love that aspect along with the fact that it’s an urban fantasy. Patricia Briggs writes so well that you’ll think that the story is based off real events and feel like you’re inside the story itself. It’s got werewolves, skinwalkers, vampires, fae, and other races as well. If you want to immerse yourself into the paranormal universe this is the series you’re looking for.

Shifters series by Rachel Vincent

Synopsis:

There are only eight breeding female werecats left... And I'm one of them. I look like an all-American grad student. But I am a werecat, a shape-shifter, and I live in two worlds. Despite reservations from my family and my Pride, I escaped the pressure to continue my species and carved out a normal life for myself. Until the night a Stray attacked. I'd been warned about Strays — werecats without a Pride, constantly on the lookout for someone like me: attractive, female, and fertile. I fought him off, but then learned two of my fellow tabbies had disappeared. This brush with danger was all my Pride needed to summon me back... for my own protection. Yeah, right. But I'm no meek kitty. I'll take on whatever — and whoever — I have to in order to find my friends. Watch out, Strays — 'cause I got claws, and I'm not afraid to use them...

Rachel Vincent is a phenomenal writer. She has written both YA and adult series though I haven’t read any of her YA books, I was entranced with her Shifters series. The way she writes her characters and you can really feel the intensity of the relationships between them. I highly recommend this series if you love the shapeshifter genre.

Nightshade series by Andrea Cremer

Synopsis:

Calla Tor has always known her destiny: After graduating from the Mountain School, she'll be the mate of sexy alpha wolf Ren Laroche and fight with him, side by side, ruling their pack and guarding sacred sites for the Keepers. But when she violates her masters' laws by saving a beautiful human boy out for a hike, Calla begins to question her fate, her existence, and the very essence of the world she has known. By following her heart, she might lose everything- including her own life. Is forbidden love worth the ultimate sacrifice? "A finely-wrought compelling tale of romance and treachery..." -Cynthia Leitich Smith (New York Times bestselling author of Eternal and Tantalize)

The Wolves of Mercy Falls series by Maggie Stiefvater

Synopsis:

For years, Grace has watched the wolves in the woods behind her house. One yellow-eyed wolf—her wolf—is a chilling presence she can't seem to live without. Meanwhile, Sam has lived two lives: In winter, the frozen woods, the protection of the pack, and the silent company of a fearless girl. In summer, a few precious months of being human… until the cold makes him shift back again. Now, Grace meets a yellow-eyed boy whose familiarity takes her breath away. It's her wolf. It has to be. But as winter nears, Sam must fight to stay human—or risk losing himself, and Grace, forever.

This isn’t your usual werewolf story. If I remember correctly, werewolves in this series have a genetic mutation that causes them to shift when the weather turns colder and appear to turn more wolf than man. This was a lovely trilogy of romance and if you read reviews on Goodreads you’ll find many others agree. The twist on shapeshifters and simple romantic relationship between Grace and Sam will have you rooting for them on page one.

Otherkin series by Nina Berry

Synopsis:

Dez is a good girl who does as she's told and tries not to be noticed. Then she rescues a boy from a cage, and he tells her secrets about herself. Now inside her burns a darkness that will transform her. Everything is about to change--and neither Caleb, nor the Otherkin, nor those who hunt them, are prepared for what Dez will unleash.

The Harbinger series by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Synopsis:

Eighteen-year-old Trinity Marrow may be going blind, but she can see and communicate with ghosts and spirits. Her unique gift is part of a secret so dangerous that she’s been in hiding for years in an isolated compound fiercely guarded by Wardens—gargoyle shape-shifters who protect humankind from demons. If the demons discover the truth about Trinity, they’ll devour her, flesh and bone, to enhance their own powers. When Wardens from another clan arrive with disturbing reports that something out there is killing both demons and Wardens, Trinity’s safe world implodes. Not the least because one of the outsiders is the most annoying and fascinating person she’s ever met. Zayne has secrets of his own that will upend her world yet again—but working together becomes imperative once demons breach the compound and Trinity’s secret comes to light. To save her family and maybe the world, she’ll have to put her trust in Zayne. But all bets are off as a supernatural war is unleashed…

Gargoyle shapeshifters? YES! COUNT ME IN! I loved the animated show Gargoyles. *smiles fondly of childhood memories* If you know of any other gargoyle shapeshifter stories please leave them down in the comments for me to check out!!!

WITCHES & WIZARDS

Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling

Synopsis:

Harry Potter's life is miserable. His parents are dead and he's stuck with his heartless relatives, who force him to live in a tiny closet under the stairs. But his fortune changes when he receives a letter that tells him the truth about himself: he's a wizard. A mysterious visitor rescues him from his relatives and takes him to his new home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After a lifetime of bottling up his magical powers, Harry finally feels like a normal kid. But even within the Wizarding community, he is special. He is the boy who lived: the only person to have ever survived a killing curse inflicted by the evil Lord Voldemort, who launched a brutal takeover of the Wizarding world, only to vanish after failing to kill Harry. Though Harry's first year at Hogwarts is the best of his life, not everything is perfect. There is a dangerous secret object hidden within the castle walls, and Harry believes it's his responsibility to prevent it from falling into evil hands. But doing so will bring him into contact with forces more terrifying than he ever could have imagined. Full of sympathetic characters, wildly imaginative situations, and countless exciting details, the first installment in the series assembles an unforgettable magical world and sets the stage for many high-stakes adventures to come.

What kind of monster would I be if I didn’t include the Harry Potter books!?!?!?! The PERFECT mood for Halloween, autumn, and the upcoming holidays… I love the fact that J.K. Rowling writes those holidays into the story because it adds just the right amount of extra magic into them, not to mention witches and wizards! I will always recommend these because they helped me get into reading when I was a young-in.

The Black Witch Chronicles series by Laurie Forest

Synopsis:

A new Black Witch will rise…her powers vast beyond imagining. Elloren Gardner is the granddaughter of the last prophesied Black Witch, Carnissa Gardner, who drove back the enemy forces and saved the Gardnerian people during the Realm War. But while she is the absolute spitting image of her famous grandmother, Elloren is utterly devoid of power in a society that prizes magical ability above all else. When she is granted the opportunity to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming an apothecary, Elloren joins her brothers at the prestigious Verpax University to embrace a destiny of her own, free from the shadow of her grandmother’s legacy. But she soon realizes that the university, which admits all manner of people—including the fire-wielding, winged Icarals, the sworn enemies of all Gardnerians—is a treacherous place for the granddaughter of the Black Witch. As evil looms on the horizon and the pressure to live up to her heritage builds, everything Elloren thought she knew will be challenged and torn away. Her best hope of survival may be among the most unlikely band of misfits…if only she can find the courage to trust those she’s been taught to hate and fear.

Practical Magic by Alice Hoffman

Synopsis:

The Owens sisters confront the challenges of life and love in this bewitching novel from New York Times bestselling author Alice Hoffman. For more than two hundred years, the Owens women have been blamed for everything that has gone wrong in their Massachusetts town. Gillian and Sally have endured that fate as well: as children, the sisters were forever outsiders, taunted, talked about, pointed at. Their elderly aunts almost seemed to encourage the whispers of witchery, with their musty house and their exotic concoctions and their crowd of black cats. But all Gillian and Sally wanted was to escape. One will do so by marrying, the other by running away. But the bonds they share will bring them back—almost as if by magic...

I’ve never read the book, but the movie is my absolute favorite to watch for Halloween (besides the obvious and popular Hocus Pocus). If you’re in the mood for some good old fashioned witchy fun go buy or loan it out from your local library!

The Wicked Deep by Shea Ernshaw

Synopsis:

Welcome to the cursed town of Sparrow… Where, two centuries ago, three sisters were sentenced to death for witchery. Stones were tied to their ankles and they were drowned in the deep waters surrounding the town. Now, for a brief time each summer, the sisters return, stealing the bodies of three weak-hearted girls so that they may seek their revenge, luring boys into the harbor and pulling them under. Like many locals, seventeen-year-old Penny Talbot has accepted the fate of the town. But this year, on the eve of the sisters’ return, a boy named Bo Carter arrives; unaware of the danger he has just stumbled into. Mistrust and lies spread quickly through the salty, rain-soaked streets. The townspeople turn against one another. Penny and Bo suspect each other of hiding secrets. And death comes swiftly to those who cannot resist the call of the sisters. But only Penny sees what others cannot. And she will be forced to choose: save Bo, or save herself.

Sweep series by Cate Tiernan

Synopsis:

Includes: Book 1 - Book of Shadows Book 2 - The Coven Book 3 - Blood Witch The first three Sweep books bound into one gorgeous edition at a fabulous price! Morgan Rowlands never thought she was anything other than a typical sixteen-year-old girl. But when she meets Cal, a captivatingly handsome coven leader, she makes a discover that turns her whole world upside down: she is a witch, descended from an ancient and powerful line. And so is Cal. Their connection is immediate and unbreakable; Cal teases out Morgan's power, her love, her magick. But Morgan discovers too soon that her powers are strong-- almost too powerful to control. And she begins to suspect that Cal may be keeping secrets from her . . . secrets that could destroy them both.

I NEED TO GET MY HANDS ON VOLUME TWO! I really enjoyed volume 1 because it took me back to my high school days and plus it enlightened me on the practice of Wicca. Some people tend to be turned off by the teenage drama, but that’s kind of a given when it comes to most high school related books. If you can get past that I think it has a lot of information on Wiccan spirituality if you’re interested in learning more or to dip your toes in.

Wicked series by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie

Synopsis:

Complete text of Witch and Curse in a single volume. Holly Cathers's world shatters when her parents are killed in a terrible accident. Wrenched from her home in San Francisco, she is sent to Seattle to live with her relatives, Aunt Marie-Claire and her twin cousins, Amanda and Nicole. In her new home, Holly's sorrow and grief soon give way to bewilderment at the strange incidents going on around her. Such as how any wish she whispers to her cat seems to come true. Or the way a friend is injured after a freak attack from a vicious falcon. And there's the undeniable, magnetic attraction to a boy Holly barely knows. Holly, Amanda, and Nicole are about to be launced into a dark legacy of witches, secrets, and alliances, where ancient magics yield dangerous results. The girls will assume their roles in an intergenerational feud beyond their wildest imaginations...and in doing so, will attempt to fulfill their shared destiny.

It’s been so long since I’ve read this series, but watch out! I feel like these books were a lot darker and heavier than your average YA witch book.

ZOMBIES

Dread Nation series by Justina Ireland

Synopsis:

Jane McKeene was born two days before the dead began to walk the battlefields of Gettysburg and Chancellorsville—derailing the War Between the States and changing America forever. In this new nation, safety for all depends on the work of a few, and laws like the Native and Negro Reeducation Act require certain children attend combat schools to learn to put down the dead. But there are also opportunities—and Jane is studying to become an Attendant, trained in both weaponry and etiquette to protect the well-to-do. It’s a chance for a better life for Negro girls like Jane. After all, not even being the daughter of a wealthy white Southern woman could save her from society’s expectations. But that’s not a life Jane wants. Almost finished with her education at Miss Preston’s School of Combat in Baltimore, Jane is set on returning to her Kentucky home and doesn’t pay much mind to the politics of the eastern cities, with their talk of returning America to the glory of its days before the dead rose. But when families around Baltimore County begin to go missing, Jane is caught in the middle of a conspiracy, one that finds her in a desperate fight for her life against some powerful enemies. And the restless dead, it would seem, are the least of her problems.

Zombies and the historical reimagining of the Civil War. What more could you want? Also, why haven’t I read this one yet!?! I completely forgot about this being on my TBR and then remembered when making this list. *makes a mental note*

Rot & Ruin series by Jonathan Maberry

Synopsis:

In the zombie-infested, post-apocalyptic America where Benny Imura lives, every teenager must find a job by the time they turn fifteen or get their rations cut in half. Benny doesn't want to apprentice as a zombie hunter with his boring older brother Tom, but he has no choice. He expects a tedious job whacking zoms for cash, but what he gets is a vocation that will teach him what it means to be human.

Something Strange and Deadly series by Susan Dennard

Synopsis:

There's something strange and deadly loose in Philadelphia. . . . Eleanor Fitt has a lot to worry about. Her brother has gone missing, her family has fallen on hard times, and her mother is determined to marry her off to any rich young man who walks by. But this is nothing compared to what she's just read in the newspaper: The Dead are rising in Philadelphia. And then, in a frightening attack, a zombie delivers a letter to Eleanor . . . from her brother. Whoever is controlling the Dead army has taken her brother as well. If Eleanor is going to find him, she'll have to venture into the lab of the notorious Spirit-Hunters, who protect the city from supernatural forces. But as Eleanor spends more time with the Spirit-Hunters, including the maddeningly stubborn yet handsome Daniel, the situation becomes dire. And now, not only is her reputation on the line, but her very life may hang in the balance.

I just…UGH, this series hit me in the FEELS! OKAY!?! These books had me coming back for more and I found myself devastated when I finished the trilogy. T_T But please read them! This story deserves to be heard!

The Forest of Hands and Teeth series by Carrie Ryan

Synopsis:

In Mary's world there are simple truths. The Sisterhood always knows best. The Guardians will protect and serve. The Unconsecrated will never relent. And you must always mind the fence that surrounds the village; the fence that protects the village from the Forest of Hands and Teeth. But, slowly, Mary’s truths are failing her. She’s learning things she never wanted to know about the Sisterhood and its secrets, and the Guardians and their power, and about the Unconsecrated and their relentlessness. When the fence is breached and her world is thrown into chaos, she must choose between her village and her future—between the one she loves and the one who loves her. And she must face the truth about the Forest of Hands and Teeth. Could there be life outside a world surrounded by so much death?

The Hollows series by Amanda Hocking

Synopsis:

This is the way the world ends - not with a bang or a whimper, but with zombies breaking down the back door. Nineteen-year-old Remy King is on a mission to get across the wasteland left of America, and nothing will stand in her way - not violent marauders, a spoiled rock star, or an army of flesh-eating zombies.

Warm Bodies series by Isaac Marion

Synopsis:

Now a major motion picture from Summit Entertainment. R is having a no-life crisis—he is a zombie. He has no memories, no identity, and no pulse, but he is a little different from his fellow Dead. He may occasionally eat people, but he’d rather be riding abandoned airport escalators, listening to Sinatra in the cozy 747 he calls home, or collecting souvenirs from the ruins of civilization. And then he meets a girl. First as his captive, then his reluctant guest, Julie is a blast of living color in R’s gray landscape, and something inside him begins to bloom. He doesn't want to eat this girl—although she looks delicious—he wants to protect her. But their unlikely bond will cause ripples they can’t imagine, and their hopeless world won’t change without a fight.

A unique twist on the usual zombies take over the world trope. This is the story of a zombie who falls in love with a human. Can they make the relationship work?

DEMONS

Lady Helen series by Alison Goodman

Synopsis:

From the New York Times bestselling author of Eon and Eona; a Regency adventure series starring a stylish and intrepid Buffy-esque demon-hunter London, April 1812. On the eve of eighteen-year-old Lady Helen Wrexhall's presentation to the queen, one of her family's housemaids disappears-and Helen is drawn into the shadows of Regency London. There, she meets Lord Carlston, one of the few who can stop the perpetrators: a cabal of demons infiltrating every level of society. Dare she ask for his help, when his reputation is almost as black as his lingering eyes? And will her intelligence and headstrong curiosity wind up leading them into a death trap?

OMG. THIS IS THE BOOK SERIES I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED IN MY LIFE. I’ve always loved the rebellious girl in historical fiction trope and tbh this upped the goodness on so many levels. It kinda gives me Pride and Prejudice vibes, but with demons and demon hunting!

The Hearts We Sold by Emily Lloyd

Synopsis:

When Dee Moreno makes a deal with a demon—her heart in exchange for an escape from a disastrous home life—she finds the trade may have been more than she bargained for. And becoming “heartless” is only the beginning. What lies ahead is a nightmare far bigger, far more monstrous than anything she could have ever imagined. With reality turned on its head, Dee has only a group of other deal-making teens to keep her grounded, including the charming but secretive James Lancer. And as something grows between them amid an otherworldy ordeal, Dee begins to wonder: Can she give someone her heart when it’s no longer hers to give?

Another trope I love are bargains! How will the trade made between her and the demon backfire?

The Epic Crush of Genie Lo series by F.C. Yee

Synopsis:

Genie Lo is one among droves of Ivy-hopeful overachievers in her sleepy Bay Area suburb. You know, the type who wins. When she’s not crushing it at volleyball or hitting the books, Genie is typically working on how to crack the elusive Harvard entry code. But when her hometown comes under siege from hellspawn straight out of Chinese folklore, her priorities are dramatically rearranged. Enter Quentin Sun, a mysterious new kid in class who becomes Genie’s self-appointed guide to battling demons. While Genie knows Quentin only as an attractive transfer student with an oddly formal command of the English language, in another reality he is Sun Wukong, the mythological Monkey King incarnate—right down to the furry tale and penchant for peaches. Suddenly, acing the SATs is the least of Genie’s worries. The fates of her friends, family, and the entire Bay Area all depend on her summoning an inner power that Quentin assures her is strong enough to level the very gates of Heaven. But every second Genie spends tapping into the secret of her true nature is a second in which the lives of her loved ones hang in the balance.

The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare

Synopsis:

When fifteen-year-old Clary Fray heads out to the Pandemonium Club in New York City, she hardly expects to witness a murder― much less a murder committed by three teenagers covered with strange tattoos and brandishing bizarre weapons. Then the body disappears into thin air. It's hard to call the police when the murderers are invisible to everyone else and when there is nothing―not even a smear of blood―to show that a boy has died. Or was he a boy? This is Clary's first meeting with the Shadowhunters, warriors dedicated to ridding the earth of demons. It's also her first encounter with Jace, a Shadowhunter who looks a little like an angel and acts a lot like a jerk. Within twenty-four hours Clary is pulled into Jace's world with a vengeance when her mother disappears and Clary herself is attacked by a demon. But why would demons be interested in ordinary mundanes like Clary and her mother? And how did Clary suddenly get the Sight? The Shadowhunters would like to know...

It’s nice to read this series since you can actually watch it as a movie or the TV series. I’ve heard pros and cons to the movie/TV adaptations, but I’ve heard so many great things about the books. I only ever read the first book and never got around to reading the rest. My sister and her husband enjoyed the heck out of them so much that he proposed to her by putting the ring in the book. *SQUEEE*

Daughter of Smoke and Bone series by Laini Taylor

Synopsis:

Around the world, black hand prints are appearing on doorways, scorched there by winged strangers who have crept through a slit in the sky. In a dark and dusty shop, a devil’s supply of human teeth grows dangerously low. And in the tangled lanes of Prague, a young art student is about to be caught up in a brutal otherworldly war. Meet Karou. She fills her sketchbooks with monsters that may or may not be real, she’s prone to disappearing on mysterious "errands", she speaks many languages - not all of them human - and her bright blue hair actually grows out of her head that color. Who is she? That is the question that haunts her, and she’s about to find out. When beautiful, haunted Akiva fixes fiery eyes on her in an alley in Marrakesh, the result is blood and starlight, secrets unveiled, and a star-crossed love whose roots drink deep of a violent past. But will Karou live to regret learning the truth about herself?

Another book I’ve heard a lot of hype around and have yet to read. I REALLY NEED TO GET AROUND TO READING THESE because they sound like they’re right up my alley!

Kingdom on Fire series by Jessica Cluess

Synopsis:

I am Henrietta Howel. The first female sorcerer. The prophesied one. Or am I? Henrietta Howel can burst into flames. When she is brought to London to train with Her Majesty's sorcerers, she meets her fellow sorcerer trainees, young men eager to test her powers and her heart. One will challenge her. One will fight for her. One will betray her. As Henrietta discovers the secrets hiding behind the glamour of sorcerer life, she begins to doubt that she's the true prophesied one. With battle looming, how much will she risk to save the city--and the one she loves?

DARK FAE

The Hazel Wood series by Melissa Albert

Synopsis:

Seventeen-year-old Alice and her mother have spent most of Alice’s life on the road, always a step ahead of the uncanny bad luck biting at their heels. But when Alice’s grandmother, the reclusive author of a cult-classic book of pitch-dark fairy tales, dies alone on her estate, the Hazel Wood, Alice learns how bad her luck can really get: her mother is stolen away―by a figure who claims to come from the Hinterland, the cruel supernatural world where her grandmother's stories are set. Alice's only lead is the message her mother left behind: “Stay away from the Hazel Wood.” Alice has long steered clear of her grandmother’s cultish fans. But now she has no choice but to ally with classmate Ellery Finch, a Hinterland superfan who may have his own reasons for wanting to help her. To retrieve her mother, Alice must venture first to the Hazel Wood, then into the world where her grandmother's tales began―and where she might find out how her own story went so wrong.

I read an e-galley of this before it had published and all I could think was this was creepy and different from the typical fae story. It wasn’t just about a manipulative fae race, the woods moved and shifted and left you disoriented which explains why most don’t come back at all…

Song of the Dryad by Natalia Leigh

Synopsis:

Seventeen-year-old Charlotte Barclay is still haunted by an encounter she had eight years ago – a run-in with a fairy beast that had eyes like witchlight and a taste for flesh. Charlotte has avoided the Greenwood ever since, pretending fairies don’t exist and choosing instead to focus her energies on graduating from high school and perfecting her audition piece for the Bellini Institute. However, everything changes when her mom goes missing, kidnapped by the fairies that haunt the forest behind Charlotte’s home. When Charlotte’s search for her mom leads her into the fairy realm, she discovers that she hails from a line of Shrine Keepers – humans tasked with maintaining ancient fairy shrines. Charlotte’s family has failed their duties to the fae, and now she has no choice but to strike a deal with the dryad, an ancient and powerful tree nymph responsible for her mom’s disappearance. But the dryad only gives her a month to complete her task: retrieve five stolen fairy stones and return them to the ancient fairy shrine. If she doesn’t return the stones in time, the dryad has threatened to imprison another of Charlotte’s loved ones. Charlotte dives into a world as magical as it is deadly, coming face-to-face with fairy creatures that never get mentioned in the story books – including the creature that haunts her dreams. She must embrace her task and conquer her fears, or else she’ll never see her mom again.

This newer fae novel has a rating of 4+ on Goodreads and is a great edition to your urban fantasy collection if you’re trying to read more Indie books.

House of Furies by Madeleine Roux

Synopsis:

After escaping a harsh school where punishment was the lesson of the day, seventeen-year-old Louisa Ditton is thrilled to find employment as a maid at a boarding house. But soon after her arrival at Coldthistle House, Louisa begins to realize that the house’s mysterious owner, Mr. Morningside, is providing much more than lodging for his guests. Far from a place of rest, the house is a place of judgment, and Mr. Morningside and his unusual staff are meant to execute their own justice on those who are past being saved. Louisa begins to fear for a young man named Lee who is not like the other guests. He is charismatic and kind, and Louisa knows that it may be up to her to save him from an untimely judgment. But in this house of distortions and lies, how can Louisa be sure whom to trust?

For some odd reason I didn’t see a lot of hype around these series and then all of a sudden I started to hear about it a little more online. When I first came across it on Goodreads what intrigued me most was the idea of this Mr. Morningside taking it upon himself to deliver justice to evil and sinful guests. And I had been on the fence a little while whether to read it or not until I finally learned from someone in the reviews that had mentioned fae being in it. Pretty much anything fae you can count me in to reading it. I can never get enough! Thanks to Wunderkind PR who provided the trilogy to me to read and talk about it with you all I am grateful to have added it to my personal fae collection! It definitely had a different twist to the usual fae stories I’ve read in the past, being as it is a historical fiction and a mystery with a touch of horror. I recommend this to anyone else who has a similar taste for fae reads and is in the mood for a series that brings something new to the genre!

Never-Contented Things by Sarah Porter

Synopsis:

Seductive. Cruel. Bored. Be wary of… Prince and his fairy courtiers are staggeringly beautiful, unrelentingly cruel, and exhausted by the tedium of the centuries ― until they meet foster-siblings Josh and Ksenia. Drawn in by their vivid emotions, undying love for each other, and passion for life, Prince will stop at nothing to possess them. First seduced and then entrapped by the fairies, Josh and Ksenia learn that the fairies' otherworldly gifts come at a terrible price ― and they must risk everything in order to reclaim their freedom.

Another great sounding edition to add to your faerie TBR list! *makes another reminder that I need to read this one still* Based on the cover I can assume this is another horror fae mix.

The Falconer series by Elizabeth May

Synopsis:

One girl's nightmare is this girl's faery tale She's a stunner. Edinburgh, 1844. Eighteen-year-old Lady Aileana Kameron, the only daughter of the Marquess of Douglas, has everything a girl could dream of: brains, charm, wealth, a title—and drop-dead beauty. She's a liar. But Aileana only looks the part of an aristocratic young lady. she's leading a double life: She has a rare ability to sense the sìthíchean—the faery race obsessed with slaughtering humans—and, with the aid of a mysterious mentor, has spent the year since her mother died learning how to kill them. She's a murderer. Now Aileana is dedicated to slaying the fae before they take innocent lives. With her knack for inventing ingenious tools and weapons—from flying machines to detonators to lightning pistols—ruthless Aileana has one goal: Destroy the faery who destroyed her mother. She's a Falconer. The last in a line of female warriors born with a gift for hunting and killing the fae, Aileana is the sole hope of preventing a powerful faery population from massacring all of humanity. Suddenly, her quest is a lot more complicated. She still longs to avenge her mother's murder—but she'll have to save the world first. The first volume of a trilogy from an exciting new voice in young adult fantasy, this electrifying thriller combines romance and action, steampunk technology and Scottish lore in a deliciously addictive read.

This was the first fae book I ever picked up that was mixed in with historical fiction and tbh it has made me spoiled! Now I feel the lack of historical fae genre and Elizabeth May is to blame. Not only is this a historical fiction, but it has some steampunk flair to add to the fae mix.

Modern Faerie Tales series by Holly Black

Synopsis:

Welcome to the realm of very scary faeries! Sixteen-year-old Kaye is a modern nomad. Fierce and independent, she travels from city to city with her mother's rock band until an ominous attack forces Kaye back to her childhood home. There, amid the industrial, blue-collar New Jersey backdrop, Kaye soon finds herself an unwilling pawn in an ancient power struggle between two rival faerie kingdoms - a struggle that could very well mean her death.

If I remember correctly this was one of the first fae stories I ever picked up and I fell in love with them instantly! Holly Black is known as the “Faerie Queen” and for good reason. She’s able to weave beautifully poetic words and surreal worlds it’s as if you’re living and breathing them. I hope you pick these up if you’ve never read them and if you have, maybe it’s time for a reread!

I hope you enjoyed this post as much as I did putting it together! Are there any books you think you’ll pick up soon? Let me know in the comments of any good ones I missed! :)

Until next time!

xoxo Whimsies of a Nerd Girl

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