#I have the worst upload schedule ever I am so sorry

[eveningepiphany]

pirates gold | H.S series, part three

[series masterlist]

summary: finally, a break from the ship is in sight. you and harry end up in a very pirate-y bar, but even a good night can’t last forever. and seemingly, neither can uncomplicated feelings.

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, teasing, sexual mentions, tension, pining, protective h, y/n being an absolute menace, mentions of death and disappearance, alcohol, violent themes.

a/n: this is really humbling to post after so long. I hope you all enjoy it, I’m so sorry for the wait.

———

You don’t realise how easy it is to forget sometimes.

How fast an old life can fall out of view, and shed off you like an old skin. How on occasion, it happens so quickly you don’t even register it’s occurred.

The shortest periods of time can alter how you view your life. You didn’t realise how different being on a ship was when compared to living on land— not until you bridged between the two while conscious, and felt the transition with your own body.

Your feet had came to the ground more unsteady than you’d thought. Maybe you forgot how to walk too. As dark had already consumed the town, you’re not sure if you were shaking out of anxiety or genuinely from how long it’s felt like it’s been since you’ve stood on solid unwavering ground.

Harry, whose hand occupied the flat of your back, felt the intake of breath your lungs pulled in as you finally made it all the way onto the dock.

He had come back into his room to find you asleep, curled into his side of the bed, knees tucked into your chest. To it, he’d smiled… legs carrying him over to glance over your peaceful frame closer.

Examining the rise and fall of your chest, as air passed through your nose softly. He noted that your hair looked damp, and he almost chuckled at the fact you’d seemingly helped yourself to a shower.

He gently said your name, “Y/N…”

When you didn’t stir, he muttered it again, hand coming to jostle your shoulder slightly. The touch woke you up, your legs uncoiling from their tucked up position, stretching out down the mattress.

A tiny sound whimpered from your throat as you started to fully wake up, eyes flitting open with a sleep-induced glaze over them.

“Evenin’.” He remarked, “fancied a shower and a nap, aye?” When you took in his frame standing next to the bed, he had an armful of brown paper bags.

You sighed out, sitting up, “Not much else to really do.”

However your brain was rerunning the fact you had plenty you could’ve done since you found that key in one of his pockets. Mentally, you had to shove it away so you didn’t end up with a guilty look plastered on your face.

“Well, waits over, dove. Got ya some clothes, you’re welcome to pick something out before we go. Want you t’blend in.” He placed the bags down onto the bed for you to shuffle over to.

You felt oddly curious, like a child on Christmas. All these bags filled with things for you. The abundance of clothes you pulled out shocked you, because there really was half a wardrobe in there. Including a pair of boots, ones you’re not sure how he figured out would fit your feet.

There was also white linen blouses similar to his own— others black lace with intricate detailing, and brown fitted long sleeves— and also an array of pants, all slightly differing in styles. You stumbled across a black under-bust corset, and your eyes shifted to him. He was leaning against the wall watching you, a smirk over his lips. That wasn’t even the only corset he had bought, there were 2 others.

However, the satisfied look on his face only grew as you reached the bottom of the last bag. Several undergarments lay folded, bras and underwear.

“Had to do some guessing with the sizing of those…” His voice comes from a few feet away from you. All too close given the fact you’re staring at intimates he bought for you.

Your face was flaming red, unable to contain the embarrassment that was coursing through you, purely at the fact he was shopping for your underwear and bras— probably imagining you in them. Someone acting so casual about this was throwing you into disarray.

His passing comments and dirty teases were one thing, this however, was another.

“Everyday you get a little more pervy.” You bite out, and he laughs at your defensive tone.

“Did you suggest I leave you without any? A thank you will suffice perfectly fine. No need t’insult me when im jus’ looking after you.” A smug smile fell over his features.

“Harry.” You groan, voice warning him, and he let it go after rolling his eyes.

He allowed you to pick out what you wanted, watching you flush as you discreetly pulled a set of undergarments out of the bag.

You had picked a white linen shirt, matching his own, and a black pair of pants. He let you change into them in his bathroom, but when you’d come out adorned in clothes that perfectly fit the pirate energy, he was holding what he’d deemed as the final touch.

The black under-bust corset.

“C’mere. You’ll be fine.” He says at your immediately displeased face.

“You might not be.” You sneer, frowning at him as the loosened corset hangs in his hands— leather shining with the golden reflection of the candle light around the room.

He walks over to you, since you clearly weren’t going to be the one to do it, and a tut comes from his pink lips, “Always so stubborn.”

You decide to just let him— since partial freedom is in sight— and you stepped into the corset, allowing him to slide it up your body, until it was in place underneath your breasts.

“This fine?” He checks in as he tugs the strings, waiting for your confirmation before the leather was too tight to your waist.

“I still think I should just elbow you.” You glare, hands clenched at the sides of your thighs with the looming pressure of the garment.

His attempt to be courteous was to no avail, clearly. And the white linen gets sinched inward, and he wrenches the strings roughly with purpose.

His deep laugh sounds, and with that firm pull you’re bought close enough to him you can feel his warm breath against your ear as he leans down.

“Let’s not be mouthy, dove. Not when I’m in control of how tight this thing is on you.” He tugs the laces a final time, hard enough the material feels like it’s completely restricting your diaphragm— making you hold your breath for a moment.

At your silence, he lets his hand relax, in turn the strings loosening enough for you to intake a breath. Your soft gasp makes his stomach heat up, warm with an unexplainable feeling.

He ties the corset at the back, and you don’t even get to step away before he’s linking arms with you.

“You look good." He states with a nod, and your eye's veered downward to see the corset against yourself.

That was what lead you to here, stepping off the pier, lit only by the latern Harry was carrying, and onto dirt.

Dirt that may have been separated from your feet with a pair of shoes, but was amazing to feel press against your boots again.

You were so eager to touch something other than wood, that this was like heaven.

The sea lapped up against the shore a few metres away, as the earth transitioned back into sand on the shore. You felt deep anticipation to get further away from the uniting of the two worlds. Because away from anything regarding the ocean and the vessel that floated upon was freedom in your mind.

Harry could see every micro-expression on your face, despite the weak candlelight. The way your eyes had lit up at the sensation of soft dirt below you, and it was endearing. He’d never seen one get so excited over merely dirt.

The air was warm, and felt like a summer night— but the breeze that blew through your hair was crisp. Whispering hints of a change in weather sooner rather than later.

He watched the wind twirl your hair, and he was almost envious of it. Watching its fingers comb through it, in such a way he could only imagine himself in its place with an intense longingly.

“The boys are at the bar. But if that’s not your scene, what we do is up to you.” He supplies, watching your eyes slant to him.

You hadn’t really thought this far ahead, what you’d do once you were off the boat. You looked at him, and then back to the cobble path that lead presumably into the heart of Sintir.

The buildings were lit up, warm light glowing, “Do they have a night market?”

“Mhm, infact they do.” He nods, beginning a slow walk to encourage you onwards.

Oddly enough, as his body was pressed to your side, you felt safe. He was something familiar in this new environment. “How exactly are you going to hide me?”

The pressing question to you was merely a slight concern to him.

“Chances of them knowing that you’re the missing princess is unlikely. And if they have seen the posters with your face on it, I somehow struggle to believe they’ll connect the dots.”

“That’s a lot of faith you have in that.” You comment, boots hitting the cobblestone with the same clacks they did back at home. There was a sense of invigoration that rushed through the blood beneath your skin at the sound.

It bought back your nightly adventures around Kelna, where nothing mattered. And all you had to worry about is what time you were sneaking back through your window without getting caught by your own guards.

It was nostalgic in a weird way. The kind that threw your mind spinning, since the memory was so fresh yet so distant. Too much had changed in the time from then to now.

“‘Cause y’don’t really look anythin’ like your picture.” He comments, dragging his gaze along your frame again, playing a mental spot the difference. He’d seen the flyers earlier that day, and was honestly unconvinced it was really you himself.

“God— tell me they didn’t use an ugly picture of me from 2 years ago…” It’s the kind of thing your parents would do, but Harry only shakes his head, letting out a prompt cackle at your distress.

“No, they didn’t use an ugly photo of ya at all. You’re just s’put together in it, hair slicked back in this fancy satin dress and pearls.” The two of you are walking between the first two buildings facing the sea, luminaries lighting up the path.

He continues, waving his hand as though it adds something to the conversation, “Now, y’hair is down now, all wild. And you’ve got this untamed look in y’eye. No one would look at ya an’ see y’fine dining in a gown.”

You’re not sure what to make of all of this, since he’s talking of you like he’s certain. Coming from his own perspective more than anyone else’s.

“They see a pirates girl. Probably look at you and think y’wrapped around my finger.” He nudges, and you finally scoff, “I would prefer they see it the other way around. That you’re following me like a lost puppy.”

“That’s never usually how it is, though.” He raises his brows, and your arm slips out of his, walking backward as you face him.

“But maybe it could be in their mind. They see you foaming out the mouth for me. And it’s like that ship docked over there,” your point in the direction you’d both originally came from, “is all mine.”

The concept feels like a power trip. You do wonder how many female captains there are in this world. Likely not enough.

“Sounds like quite the fantasy y’ve built up.” He muses.

“I want to go to the pub.” Your tone is certain and confident. To this he raises his eyes brows in challenge.

“Perhaps you’ll share a drink with me, dove?”

“Or it could be the other way around.”

“Well, it couldn’t, because you don’t have any gold to pay with. An’ things here aren’t complimentary like they are at home.” He huffs in amusement, poking fun at your previously lavish lifestyle.

“I don’t need gold,” you begin with a smirk that’s starting to spread across your mouth, “all I need to do is undo a few buttons on this blouse and I’ll probably be able to get a round for the whole crew on the house.”

You’re walking backwards, hands clasped together behind your back, a grin on your face that makes him feel insane.

His eyes immediately darkened, pupils blowing out at the thought of what you’re insinuating. Flirting your way for a free drink… something he can’t imagine you’ve ever done before. Yet would probably succeed at like you have a million times over.

“Right,” He clears his throat, trying to calm himself down, “didn’t take much for you to start whoring yourself out for some booze.”

“It’s not whoring… men are horrible creatures. They’ll do anything if they think it’ll get their dick wet.” He thinks you’re so… uneducated and naive. That just because you’re in a court, that you know nothing of the males on this earth.

However it’s quite the opposite. Sexual topics are strictly forbidden in the palace and court meetings… but elsewhere, when it’s private and no one is around to hear it, men help themselves to the topic.

They have no concern discreetly passing by you, head turned in whisper, just to tell you what a body you have. Or just how badly they want to…

And on the street, it’s even worse. So you know more than enough when it comes to that. That makes you anything but stupid to a man’s intentions.

He picks up the pace of his steps to breach the distance between you both, so that if you were to stop walking suddenly— he would probably crash into he was that close.

“You’re not doing that.” He says, tone serious.

“Why not, afraid you’ll get a little jealous?” You’re flirting with something dangerous now. Eager to prove a point.

“Don’t try to get a rise out of me. Because I said you’re not. Do y’want a drink or not dove? Because the way you’re headed, all your getting is a glass of water.”

“Whatever.” You scoff, still unsatisfied, but resigning your argument for now.

“I’m concerned your attitude will only worsen with alcohol in your system.” He deliberates.

The streets have now fully lit up, with other people starting to appear, and the nightlife is able to be heard from where you are.

The singing happening in the tavern can now be heard as you round a corner into what can only be deemed at Sintirs town centre.

A night market is clearly running, and you can see the pub a few doors down from it. Men and women out the front, drinks in hand and cigars hanging from their lips.

He catches up to you enough to slide his arm between your elbow again, silently obliging you you to stay right by his side.

As you get closer to the tavern, he verbalises this.

“You don’t move from here,” He pulls you tighter into his frame, “and you don’t make any trouble. Otherwise it won’t be pretty.”

His tone is firm, unwavering. You nod to it, accepting the rules begrudgingly, “Yes, Captain.”

You both come to the door, and he pulls it open. The building on the outside was rustic bricks, and inside it was the same— except the flooring was wooden. As the door opened, a bell chimed, but it was drowned out by the overwhelming amount of noise.

Men were shouting, and bellowing all about. Drunkenly chatting, playing darts, and stumbling around. There were women too, but they were not near as rambunctious. All of them were dressed like pirates… and it was clear this place was specialised for them. Maps on the wall, and news clippings of what appeared to be local Sintir pirates were framed around the place.

A few blokes stopped to greet Harry. And he engaged in short conversations. But in the back of his mind, he was regretting bringing you in here. Not because anyone recognised you, but because he could see every single slimy gaze that dragged over you.

One man stopped him by the darts—Harry had called him Evan— he said greetings to the captain, but his gaze never left you.

You had noticed immediately, and it was a bit disgusting. It made you regret calling Harry a perv. Because he was nothing like this.

It immediately pissed Harry off, the way the brutish and large man was eyeing you up and down like you were an object. And his blood spiked when he considered the array of things likely running through Evans head.

The grip he had tightened on you.

It’s protective, you feel. And at the least, you know you’re safe with him.

Harry almost regretted putting that corset on you now. It made you look too good. Too enticing.

He, unlike others clearly, has a moral compass. And enough human decency to see you as a human opposed to a sexual object. He was forgetful that most men lacked that ability.

When he spots his crew, he uses it as a quickly conjured excuse to get away from the other pirate. And as he leaves, he tugs your body in front of him, shadowing your retreating figure from prying eyes.

You’re a bit overwhelmed, in all honesty. But accept it as normal— you hadn’t been anywhere so busy for a while now. Especially when it’s in such a rowdy way.

The second his crew spots the two of you— your body sheltered by his own, and his hand on your hip urging you forward— Niall, the blonde one whose name you finally remember, lets out a bellowing cheer.

“She made it!” He’s excited like you’re an old friend of his, and he drunkenly rises up from the booth the boys had taken.

Harry feels a little more at peace knowing he’s now with his crew— the two of you are less likely to be bothered now, and he knows his mates will look out for you as well. Prisoner or not, you’re still a human.

Niall barrels towards you, and Harry renounces his hold on you. Chuckling as he pulls you into a drunk bear hug.

You’re unsure what to do with your hands as he rocks you around like a child, “Glad ya here, lovie.”

“Mmhm…?” You agree, looking helplessly his crew mates as they cackle hysterically— smacking their hands down on the table and sloshing their pints of beer in fits of laughter.

He eventually slides his arms off you, and hiccups, “are ya havin’ a drink?”

His already heavy accent is slurred as you make out what he’s asking, and you don’t even get an answer in before he reaches over the table and grabs you his.

Sliding the cold glass, around 3 quarters empty, into your hand.

“‘Ave mine! I’ll go get anotha’” He chortles, and then stumbles off just like that.

Harry watches in surprise as you bring the glass up to your lips and down the rest of it without hesitation. Hoping alcohol will take the edge off all the overstimulation you’re having in here. Calm you down a bit.

The rest of his crew whoop and cheer for you, which at the least gives you a bit more confidence.

Before they can all hand you over their half finished beers, Harry comes back to your side, head craning down to talk in your ear.

“Let’s go up t’the bar, get ya somethin’ fresh, instead of people leftovers.”

You nod, walking with him as he pulls you through the crowd.

At the bar, there’s several people sat at the stools. Including a touchy couple, that are practically feeling each other up, front and centre. She is sitting on the seat, but is taller than the man that’s between her legs. Clearly she’s in charge, and you smirk.

Go girl, you thought, and Harry clocks your pride for the woman. Something stirring in his chest.

He ignores it, going up the bar to place on order.

The lady at the bar, whose got muscles on her like an absolute god, nods at him to rattle off his order.

“Two beers and a shot of the best liquor y’ve got, thanks, Naomi.” He asks, but you interrupt before she can walk away.

“Make it two shots, please.” To your quick mouth, she smiles. She has dark skin, and a beautifully done head of braids, it’s clear you’ve piqued her curiosity.

“I’ll make it two,” she smirks, getting two shot glasses from beneath the counter.

“And who is the second one for?” She asks, implying she wants your name.

You slide your eyes to Harry, who is shocked that you’re trying to get his permission for giving your name. He blinks sharply in disapproval.

“Mary.” You nod, listing the fake name off like it was nothing. It was a common enough name, so she takes it.

You don’t realise how effortlessly you and Harry are communicating without words until he ghosts his thumb over your forearm, and you know he’s thanking you.

Naomi smirks at you, “Well, miss Mary, I have to say i quite admire you.”

You give her a thanks, and she slides the two shots on the counter, going on to prepare the beers.

“Been a while since your captain here has bought a girl around… nice to see.” The irony of the situation could almost make you laugh.

“Well, someone’s oughta keep him inline. Otherwise he’d end up prisoner somewhere.” You supply, putting up your best pirate imitation for her.

He shakes his head, your play on words half amusing, half unbelievable.

“Was good to see you, Naomi, thanks for the drinks.” He says, grabbing the beer while you grab the shots.

She gives her momentary goodbyes, and he walks over to a vacant barrel to place the beer down.

You follow suit, but with only one of the shots. You toss the other back before he can say otherwise. The brownish-gold liquid burning a trail down your throat.

He watches in disbelief. You are so shockingly rough around the edges, that the idea of you being a princess feels unfathomable to him.

“You broke a lot of those royal rules, didn’t you.” He raises his brows, voice unreadable.

Licking over your lips, the strong alcohol gives a zip up your spine, “on occasion.”

“Christ.” He mutters, picking up his own shot and downing it.

The two of you take your beers back to the booth his crew was at, and you drink that and whatever else got handed to you by his crew mates— that you’ve officially learned most names of— and are well and truly a bit drunk.

You were sat between Liam and Harry, and the night was actually quite fun.

It was nice to truly forget the situation you’d landed yourself in.

That was until, as the night drew on, and once the early hours of the morning were likely in play, the pub quietened.

It was now regular noise level, just drunk and tired chatter, and someone came over to your booth.

A lanky guy, sporting long dreaded hair with olive coloured skin. Despite his moderately tan complexion, there was an almost queasy undertone to it. It stained a faint yellow tinge under his eyes, and screamed future liver failure the longer you stared.

Yet a gold tooth that peaked through when he flashed a smile. He looked like the epitome of a pirate.

“Ah, Styles and his crew are back in town.” He announces rather loudly, like as if he has an audience he’s talking to.

“Leon… Hello.” Zayn drawls, far from enthralled to see the man.

“Great to see you all,” he claps his hands together, smiling, “now, I’ve jus’ come round to spread the word…”

It piques the men’s interest slightly, and they all start to pay attention to the skinny bloke.

“Garrets boat was found the otha’ day.” He states, looking between the boys, eyes stopping momentarily on you.

Harry pipes up from where he’s sat next to you, and if there was anything amiss, the only telling thing would be the way his hand snakes to your knee, tensing around it slightly.

It’s his bruised hand, and you try to draw your attention away from it.

“I’ve heard word of that… did he not turn up with it?” Harry asks, nonchalantly.

“No… it was in perfect nick, jus’ without its capan’.” He sighs out, stepping forward to trail his boney hand over the wood pattern on the table, “Reckon someone’s got him… so keep an eye out for raiders.”

“Mm, alright. Thanks for the heads up. Hope ya’s stumble upon him…” Harry nods, hand clutching your knee harder.

The man’s missing…

And suddenly, it clicks in your brain.

Despite his crews unreadable faces, you are almost certain that the man currently in the chambers of their ship is the same person Leon is on about.

It sends a wave of anxiety through you. In a room full of pirates, you are something they all would want. Yet for varying reasons.

You’re suddenly grateful again that Harry and his crew seem to only have the intention of money with you.

What a horrible thing to be thankful for in this world, you think.

That you’re happy the people who kidnapped you don’t want to use you in worse ways. Don’t want your body or to keep you as a souvenir.

You’re drawn from your spiralling thoughts as Leon speaks again,

“Ah, and you have a las with you too…” he remarks, although it adds no substance to the conversation.

“Mary.” Harry provides, and the boys all exchange a glance.

“You keep your eye out too then, sweetheart. You women have an attention to detail that us men don’t...” He flashes his golden tooth, and gives a final nod to the crew before turning away.

You purse your lips, glancing down at your lap, trying to hide your frown. Confused if the approach was a convoluted kind of threat, or just an odd exchange.

“That’s us done for the night,” Harry says, his previous relaxed tone was gone. It was riddled with seriousness now.

“Give it ten so it doesn’t look suspicious, and then we’re leaving.”

That was confirmation to you that Garret is the man below deck… and you were itching to ask questions, but knew now was likely not the time.

The tension aided sobering everyone up, and after around ten minutes they all collectively rose. And Harry scooted out of the booth, and gestured you to follow suit.

You slide out, leather gliding against your skin as you got to the edge and took his hand without protest. Despite being upset at this situation only minutes earlier, you craved to feel safe.

So as anxiety was welling in your chest, you easily allowed him to pull you against him. Tan hand clasped around yours as he held you firmly close.

This time, he held you with his good hand, free of dark purple bruises.

You transfixed on his complexion instead now. It was completely different to Leon’s. Tan from the sun, yes. But Harry was— as always— all beauty. Liquid gold was accidentally spilt into the colour of his skin. It shone under even the dingest of bar lightings, and never failed to completely encapsulate your attention. His skin had no sickly undertone.

Tiny freckles and beauty marks that trailed up his forearm. They were colour of chocolate… and he was perfection.

Christ.

You got pulled out of your trance by the tug of his hand, his bruised one busy fishing out a small bag of gold.

It’s unbelievable the state he can put you in. It’s otherworldly, and you feel sort of ashamed how easily your mentality can fold to him.

Taking you up to the counter that Naomi was scrubbing down with a rag, he placed the small coin bag atop the bar.

“Thanks for your hospitality as usually, there’s a little extra for all your help.” He was keeping the exchange short, bidding his farewells after her gracious appreciation.

She smiles a goodbye to him, yet eyes slide back over to you,

“And you too Mary, keep y’man in-line.” She teased, and Harry genuinely rolled his eyes.

“I will.” You stated, voice oversaturated with faux confidence.

With that, you all left the tavern. It felt odd stepping into the now cold air, a change coming in quicker than expected. The market having packed up for the night likely hours ago.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin as the boys moved in haste, a unity of clanking boots against the paving.

“Y’shivering.” Harry remarked.

“It’s colder than it was earlier.”

“Even the tropics must feel the cold.” Tanner states matter-of-factly.

Once out of the town centre, they start running— it was sudden and unexpected. Like once they were fully out of view, urgency could be expressed.

“This’ll warm you up.” Harry raises his voice against the wind, pulling you along to match his pace.

By the time you made it back, storming across the pier, you were near breathless.

Blood pumping, and you did feel a little warmer at the least.

“Alrigh’, Liam, are you right enough to get us going?” He asked, patting his back as the boys walk along the temporary bridging from the pier to the ship.

“Plenty fine, H.” He nods certainly.

“That’s the way…” his voice raises, “Ashton, Miggs, batten down the hatches!”

His pirate-y tone was prevalent as he threw orders left right and centre. Before you knew it, the ship was starting to move from port. You were shocked, considering half of them weren’t even fully sober. But you supposed this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, readying up the ship for something unexpected while half drunk.

Maybe things were done better that way, with beer in the blood, you supposed. More officiant.

Once he was finished confirming what everyone was doing, his voice lowered, and gaze softened as he turned to you.

His eyes fell where you rung the bottom of the corset cinched around you. You were evidently anxious, it was written all over your face.

“Cmon, dove…” he walked the minor distance between you, “I’ll take you back below deck.”

“To the chambers?“ your voice was abundant with sudden fear, and the thought of going down there knowing there’s likely a corpse in the room across from you made you feel sick.

“No.” He immediately clarified, “My room. You’re not going back down there, Y/N.”

He said it with such certainty, and you wondered what changed to make you a permanent fixture in his room.

You were lead down the increasingly familiar way to his bedroom, “Nothing you can task me with?”

He laughed at your question, “Nothing, love. I doubt you even know how to tie a knot on a rope.”

You couldn’t say you properly did. And then you wondered why exactly you offered to help, considering you have no business aiding people who kidnapped you.

“I don’t.” You sigh, as he lets you into his dark room. He felt oddly domestic, stepping through the doors quickly to light a wall lantern so you can see.

“Then you’re better off safe in here, the waters already a bit rocky.” The ship was rising and falling more dramatically than this morning, which added to your list of things to worry about.

“Harry,” you say his name before he can walk out.

“Y/N?”

“Can you be honest with me…?”

He huffs a laugh, “Tha’ depends.”

“Is the man in the cells dead?”

The seriousness in your tone has him dead quiet. And you can hear the ticking in his brain as he decides on whether he’s answering you or not.

The innocent look in your eye pushed him to be truthful. He wasn’t used to this. Seeing someone undeserving of being captive on the ship. It was always horrible people.

“I’ll go a step ahead of you, yes, Garret’s dead.” He answered like he knew your next question would be that. And he was right, because it was.

You draw in a breath, the only sound heard is the crashing of the ship against the waves.

“Does that scare you?” He asks, and then asks deeper, “Do I scare you?”

You pause to then think how to answer that.

“Yes and no…” You deliberate, because you truly don’t know. You felt safe with him today, but the concept of what he’s probably done to people is eye opening to say the least. And always the potential of what he could do to you.

The air was thick— the alcohol in both of your systems clouding your judgements— and something churned in your hearts. There was a shared breath in, and out.

You feel the cruciality of the moment, and are certain he can too.

Right now, this goes much further than the taking of a royal, the trapping of a person. It’s a question that the answer can only create more confusion.

Because why on this cruel, twisted earth would you be thinking of any response other than a plain, hard, yes.

A breath catches in the back of your throat, and the real answer slips out with a rasp.

“You scare me because I don’t know how to fully hate you. I hate you, but not like i should.”

A half blink, and the look in his eyes switches. It’s unreadable for a moment, blank in processing.

He steps closer, feeling an urge to touch you that he can’t explain where it come from. It’s so forceful he breaches the distance between you faster than he can rethink it. Fingers reaching out to brush a gentle stroke over your cheekbone.

Your lips part, the haze in your mind making you wonder if this was a dream of sorts.

All Harry is thinking about is the fact he wants more right now. The same whirlwind that pushed him to cradle your cheek with his hand is begging his lips to brush against yours.

He pushes it down into the pit of his stomach, replying with a tone so tender he wonders how it come from himself.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise on the damning of my own soul.” He reassures.

The lines have blurred. Blurred from keeping his prize safe, to keeping you safe.

His words feel like they carry too much weight to be coming from a pirate. Like the impact they have is meant for manipulation.

And if that’s they’re intention either way, it worked. Because a part of you resigns to believe it.

He waits for confirmation on your end that you understand, and you give that to him through a curt nod.

“Good. I’ll be back later, you go to sleep.”

Your heart wrenches for no apparent reason as he lingers close to you for a moment longer. Then he drags himself away from you, despite the intense urge to do otherwise.

You catch his eyes a final time as he leaves the room. Leaving the door unlocked…

It tempts you, but with the boat rocking like this, you think better for yourself.

Now you want to throw yourself off the ship again, but for an entirely different reason.

You’ve laid trust in him. Something you said you wouldn’t ever do. Oh how that promise to yourself broke quickly.

But you’re drunk and vulnerable, and his words were so soft and sweet. Two sides of yourself are at war.

Yet either way, you feel it can only lead to a plethora of bad things. It’s all too much for you right now.

Unlacing your own corset, you wiggle out of it, then slip out of everything else. You stand in only undergarments, realising how truly exhausted you are now that you’re back in his room.

The alcohol and emotional turmoil settles deep in your bones, you feel it rattle heavily with each step.

You grab soft clothes he bought for you today, and pull them over you, taking off your bra.

The storm is coming. You feel it within you. It’s a foreshadow of your mentality, the precursor of what’s to come with all of this— and the ever growing complexity of your feelings.

You crawl into Harry’s bed, ashamed at the way you inhale his scent. Hating the way it’s turned into a form of reassurance.

He has kept you safe this last week, which in your subconscious— whose clinging to any sort of saftety— means he is something to you that he shouldn’t be. And you wonder when he went from something you disdained to something you craved connection with.

The idea of stockholm syndrome was familiar to you, but didn’t resonate. Or maybe you were in denial… who fucking knows. All you are sure of is that he makes you feel somewhat stable. Your body craves that shred of stability more than anything.

Either way, it didn’t stop you from nestling into his sheets. Or falling asleep curled up in them.

Nor did it hinder you from when he finally returned to reach out for him, all while still hazed with the slumber you were just in.

A meek call of his name came from your mouth as he gets into his bed, it was at least an hour or so later. The sun would be closer to rising then not, but you choose to haul your body closer to him the second you could.

He sighs with relief of finally laying down, the weather sounds worse outside now. It’s gotten harsher sooner than he expected, something hurrying the system further south. Although it means it’ll hit earlier, at the least it’ll be over in a day or two.

He must’ve gotten undressed, because as you press yourself into his back, his bare skin is warm to the touch.

It was evident feeling him now that the sun coursed through his veins, it replaced the blood of a regular person. He spent so many hours in it, it seemed to be a part of him.

“You’re so warm.” You stated quietly, half conscious.

“Mm, and you’re so bloody cold.” He mutters, voice deep and ready for sleep. His comment causes him to roll into you, tugging you closer into his chest.

Somehow, regardless of if you had been asleep for an hour, you still felt exhausted. Maybe it was the drinks too, they were settling a slight hangover upon you. So, shamelessly you coiled further into his arms.

Your hands snaked up his bare back, and into the hair at the nape of his neck. The curls were damp as you played with them.

There’s definitely still something in your system, and he notices it as well.

“You’ve gotta be still a little tipsy… ya all over me dove.” He laughs tiredly.

Your front is pressed to his, his scent equally as distracting as the slabs of muscles you could feel up against you.

“Tipsy and exhausted.” You murmur, eyes fluttering shut as you carry on playing with his hair.

“Oh, are y’feelin’ needy?” He teases, voice slipping into a shockingly deep lilt, one you’d caught glimpses of yesterday morning.

It sparked a feeling in the pit of your stomach, “Shut up.”

The two of you did eventually go quiet, nothing but the sounds of mixing breath and the brush of hands against skin.

His own hands had taken refuge on your waist, rubbing gentle circles with calloused fingers. Somewhere in the back of your head you reevaluate for the seventh time just how intoxicated you still both were. Enough alcohol in your system to completely blur the lines.

You couldn’t even claim in the morning the cuddling was an accident on part of your sleeping selves. You’d have to try and pass it off as the drinks from earlier. Which although true, feels like a harder excuse to play off this significant.

You were wrapped up in his arms. Voluntarily. And… enjoying it.

It’s a horrible thing to be indulging in. It’s only going to spell you more trouble. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

He felt you slip back into a quiet sleep, evident in the way your fingers ceased their movement where they sat, tangled in his hair.

In the silence of the night, he thought about you.

Images trailed carelessly through his mind, dragging up ideas of what the two of you looked like right now. He wished he could see it from an outside perspective.

The way you had completely settled into his frame. Chest to chest.

He could feel the ridges and dips of your body too easily, only separated by a thin cotton sleep shirt you’d put on.

Something throbs inside of him at the touch, and to make matters worse, you stir, throwing your leg over his hip just like you had the night before.

He feels dirty as he conceptualises the idea of something more with you.

He wishes he didn’t drink now, because he can’t get the vision of himself inside of you out of his head. He’s weak after some beer and liquor, he lacks self-control, even when half of him is begging to sort himself out. Now, because he hasn’t stopped himself early enough, his prick has swollen in his boxers.

Thank the stars you’re asleep.

He stays deathly still, pursing his lips, waiting his boner out.

Staving away the idea of being pushed inside of you. Such a pretty girl, you were. It’s hard not to wonder how good your mouth would be against his own.

It takes atleast 15 painful minutes for his cock to soften. He’s thankful for being tired, because once the thumping of his heart calms down, he allows himself to pull you further into his hold.

He will let himself have this, at the least.

———

Waking up was almost a carbon copy of the morning before.

A tangle of limbs, but you’ve had a warmth that’s sprouted through you the entire night.

However, this time, Harry was already awake.

The hours of sleep you got were minimal. And the sun wasn’t even fully up. It was mostly cloud coverage outside the window. The room still dim.

He watched you wake up, thankful it’s now— because otherwise he would’ve had to get up and go. Too much to do to be laying in bed with you, unfortunately.

He got to watch your eyes slowly open, their glossy appearance. They lazily scoped the room, as if re-familiarising your brain with your surroundings.

Then they dragged to Harry’s face, catching the softness of the morning still on him.

“I have a headache.” Was the first thing that croaked from your lips.

Your throat hurt and the hangover was clearly in its full effect. You did not usually drink that much.

He hums a laugh at your lack of greeting, starting off the morning with a complaint. Oddly charming somehow?

He wanted to kiss you still.

“Big night for you last night?” He asks, jokingly, but he knows you didn’t drink enough to forget anything.

“Don’t tease.” You plead, head dropping back down to between his chest.

He strokes a hand along your back, “We oughta get some food into ya.”

His gentle encouragement falls on deaf ears. All you’re able to do is fall back into his hold.

“Dove.” The coo he lets out does nothing but makes your stomach flutter.

You shake your head against the warm skin of his chiseled chest. All the muscle there… fuck it makes you light headed.

But you can’t think about that.

You just wanted him with you right now.

“Harry.”

Hearing his name makes the heart in his chest clench.

“Stay here.” You say, simply.

At his momentary silence, your voice drops.

A whisper.

A plea.

“Please?”

Everytime you talk to him like that, a piece of him unravels.

Already too far in, he throws another handful of cation to the wind. Before he knows it, there will be nothing left.

His quiet demeanour is unusual. Where was his quip that usually followed?

You were slowly poisoning him.

“You’re like a drug.” He states.

You’re not sure how to feel. Is that good… or bad?

“Is that bad?”

He doesn’t say anything, just rolls his body weight to the side, moving you to be facing one another.

He stares into your eyes, searching for something. An answer maybe.

But it’s just not one he’s going to find yet.

Time is a virtue, they say.

And maybe if he waits long enough, unravels far enough, gives away enough of himself. He’ll know.

He’ll find out what it is about you that drags him in.

Maybe you’re like the current. Yet he’s not sure if it’s taking him out to a reef, where paradise lay. Or dragging him out into a rip.

His eyes wander the plains of your face.

And finally, he speaks.

“I guess we’ll have to find out.”

———

taglist:

@saturnheartz @slap-me-harry @ilovehsstuff @ameerakane20 @matildasatellite @harrysslut7 @sunflowersey @styleswiftie @anotheryoutubefanpage @straightontilmornin @oknothanks26 @closureesny @angel-upon @brother-lauren @maddie7writes @tenaciousperfectionunknown

(—comment or reach out to be added to the taglist for future parts🤍)

[carakook]

Hi cuties. Here’s a lil update on poll results and my planned upload schedule!

First… the poll??? I made it because I got 100 followers and 600 people voted holy shit 😭 That’s insane to me. Metamorphosis won the poll. Which I will be soooo honest I didn’t expect at all. This one is worst than Bloom when it comes to emotion 💀 This story is very very special to me. I was going to upload it the moment the poll ended but I need to go through and proofread it first, make sure it’s where I want it. So I will have it done by the weekend, this week has just turned out to be insanely busy for me out of nowhere. Sorry. 🥲

Bloom!!! At this point I basically missed a week, I’m so sorry. Again, life just happened and I got a lil overwhelmed. But! That brings me to my next point, my uploading scheduling will be Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. I don’t have a specific order but those are the days you can expect updates on Bloom and Metamorphosis, maybe some one shots too. and during the week I may update as well but that’s not guaranteed, the weekend is guaranteed going forward. Thanks for you guys patience on this.

Also I am going to making a master list to pin at the top of my page this week, so it’ll be easier to find stuff. I’m kinda new to actually posting to tumblr, used to just lurk a lot, so be patient with me lmao. 😭

If you guys ever have any requests for stories/one shots or questions just use the asks. 💜💜💜

[bethansfandoms]

i keep seeing these and i just need more of it so Sirius is a youtuber au?

i literally read one of these the other day! how did you know?

sirius, or as he was known to the world,‘padfoot, was huge. he had a crazy amount of subscribers and his videos ranged from general chit chat to baking to gaming and, most famously, pranking fellow youtuber ‘prongs.’

people loved him. they loved his personality and his content and his appearance and his voice. everything. because he was so popular, sirius never could read every single comment, but he tried his best, and there was one that did catch his eye.

it was simply “day one of telling sirius that whoever edits his videos is awesome.” it had 50K likes.

part of the reason sirius’ posting schedule was so regular was because he didn’t edit his own stuff, he’d hired someoneto do it for him. his name was remus lupin, and this random commenter was correct, he was awesome.

the comments continued. sirius would look for it on every daily upload and there it was, always near the top. somebody commenting appreciation for sirius’ editor.

sirius and remus were friends. they weren’t super close, but they spent a lot of time together as sirius had an office for his ‘padfoot’ brand and he always filmed there, for privacy reasons more than anything. the computers in the office had all the equipment remus needed to edit and so they saw each other almost every day.

“have you seen this?” sirius asked casually, showing remus his phone. “day forty-two of telling sirius that who ever edits his videos is awesome.” 45K likes.

remus smiled, “ah, well, i do my best.”

“they’re right,” sirius responded, “i can’t really thank you enough for it. my videos would suck without you.”

remus rolled his eyes, “i am sure youtube’s heart-throb would do just fine in his own.”

sirius felt himself blush slightly. “yeah, well, glad the youtube comment section is appreciating what you’re doing as much as i am.”

it was next mentioned in a live stream. sirius read the comment and contemplated ignoring it but decided to read it out loud anyway. “sirius, expose your editing team.” he grinned. “not a team! just this one poor guy i’m afraid, i feel sorry for him.”

for some reason, it sent the comments off on a tangent. there were now numerous questions coming in and all of them about this editor. “can i get them on the live? ha, hold up.” remus was only in the room next door.

“remus!” he realised he’d just outed his name which the comments started freaking out about. “would you like to be on my live?”

remus walked away from his desk, laughing, and stayed just out of shot. “sorry, what?”

“the viewers want to meet my editor!”

remus sighed and awkwardly walked into frame. “how many people are watching?”

“only two million.”

“wish i’d known that or i probably wouldn’t have let two million people see me in this jumper my mum made me.”

sirius laughed, “it’s adorable.”

this is how a sub fandom was created. various twitter accounts dedicated to remus. people commenting on how cute he was or theorising the nature of sirius and remus’ relationship.

that embarrassed sirius slightly. he’d always had a mild crush on his editor and the fact that people were uploading the thirty seconds remus had ben on camera for and titling it “sirius having heart eyes for remus,” always made him slightly flustered.

remus’ appearing in sirius’ live shows started to become more frequent as people kept anting more remus content. this is how sirius came up with a new video idea. “Q and A with my editor.”

“i am just going to edit this and make sure nothing embarrassing i do is left in,” was the first thing remus said when he hit record.

“will you keep that in?” sirius asked, smiling.

“haven’t decided, depends how my hair looks.”

“it looks good.” that got edited out. “okay,” sirius said, “question one: what’s it like having to look at my face all day for a living.”

remus flushed. that got edited out. “it’s a weird way of describing my job, but i guess it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

sirius chuckled, “you flatter me.” sirius scrolled through his phone for more questions, “when will you start dating? let’s not include that one.”

remus scoffed, “when you ask me out i guess. yeah, that’s getting edited out.”

“christ, there’s a theme here,” sirius muttered, “remus are you single, remus rate sirius on appearance out of ten, remus would you rather kiss sirius or die.”

remus burst out laughing, “i’m starting to get a bit concerned about your viewers.”

“yeah, well, ever since my coming out video they’ve been desperate to know if i’m seeing anyone. there were all these proof videos about how me and james were dating before he married lily. oh here’s another one, remus what’s your sexuality?”

“bisexual,” he grinned, “should i leave that in or would that just drive people insane.”

“well, it depends. apparently there is already fanfiction about us.”

“how! i’ve been in like, four of your live shows.”

sirius shrugged, “people work fast.”

remus edited all of it out.

they spent hours laughing together on camera before finally wrapping the video up. it got 15 million views in a week.

“people like you, remus!”

“people just want somebody to ship you with.”

“no, for real, i keep seeing fan pages for you.”

remus laughed, “that’s insane! they know literally nothing about me.”

“they don’t have to. apparently being funny and good looking is enough for them to go on.” sirius regretted it almost instantly. luckily, remus didn’t seem to mind.

“you think i’m funny?”

sirius was so glad that he’d asked that instead of ‘you think i’m good looking’. “yeah, of course. i think you’re... yeah. we should hang out more. if you want of course.”

“ah, the amount of people on the who’d kill to hang out with the padfoot. yeah. that’d be nice. don’t tell the internet or they’ll think it’s a date.”

sirius shrugged, “is it?”

“oh, uh,” remus’ cheeks went bright pink. “i don’t know, is it?”

“if it doesn’t work, i still want to be friends. but we could always... try?”

a year later, sirius published his second most viewed video, after his coming out. it was titled “meet my boyfriend,” with the man in the thumbnail blurred out.

it was remus, of course. and the news actually broke twitter.

yo what the hell should i write an ao3 fic on this? i love this trope so much!!!

[donaidk]

Marcus Armstrong - Almost Home I.

In advance: This is getting a Part 2 for sure. I don’t want to leave it here, but at the same time I felt like it would be really long if I left it in one piece. Turns out I have a whole lot of inspiration for Marcus fics right now. 😂 I also wanna let everyone, who’s waiting for their request, know that uni is starting next week for me. It means less free time, but I will make sure to finish every one of them in the next week or so, and then focus on all the series I started. There’s gonna be slower updates to them, but I’ll make sore to have one or two per week at least. Hopefully they won’t try to kill us in the starting weeks and I will finish up the Lando one so I could start posting that every week and just add some parts from the others to the queue 😊

Thank you Anon for requesting this one though, and sorry for the wait. Hope you will enjoy it and as it’s almost the next day here, have a really happy start to your Friday everyone 🧡

Kind of Taglist: @mickschumcher​, @art-gp​

Title Song | Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

With the Australian GP knocking on the door Melbourne filled up with tourists and fans even more than usual. The first time I got to witness it in 2017 was actually scary in a way for someone who didn’t know the city well yet. Getting from one part of the city to another was a hard task already, and all the shouting and crazy fans weren’t of much help when I tried to get some usable info out of them so I could finally get to my destination and get off the streets. It almost held me back from choosing Melbourne’s university, but I had to remind myself that it was just once a year and I shouldn't give up my plans because of it. Melbourne was beautiful and their schools were highly rated, giving me everything for a stable future. Luckily I was never disappointed by my choices as it was easy to get used to the life here and I even found some new friends who helped me every time I felt homesick. It wasn’t the worst usually, as I was truly content with how my life was going, but sometimes it just hit me out of nowhere and in those moments they were always there for me.

It was now the third year when we lived through the race weekend, meaning we finally had a working schedule with which we still followed our usual plans but stayed out of the bigger crowds. Although we were in the middle of the semester we always found time to enjoy the still warm weather and spend most of our free time outside. Usually our choice was the beach for the afternoons as even though it was packed until noon, the tourists never stayed for long. We usually arrived in the late afternoon and stayed well after the sun went down, and the temperature went down a little finally. The water usually stayed comfortable until later in the evening making it bearable for almost a whole 24 hours if you weren’t squeamish. Even if you were after spending a few weeks at the beach, everyone got used to it.

As soon as everyone finished with their lectures we got our things together and took the 5 minutes walk down to the beach. We had a favourite spot which was luckily never taken when we got down there. For a few minutes we just sat down, talking about our weeks. I shared a dorm room with two other girls, but we had a few friends who had their own apartments or lived with their family a bit farther away from our university. We usually had one or two days every week to catch up with them as in between lectures we were either too tired or didn’t have the time to do so. But most of the afternoons were ours fully and we used it the best we could to relax but still use that time to make memories for the few years we’re spending together. We could say it’s gonna stay the same after we graduate but everyone knew we would move to different countries as soon as we weren’t connected to Australia. Even I planned to go home, although I enjoyed living here and getting to be independent without my family behind my back.

“ Are you coming? ” One of the girls asked me, as they were already walking down to the water, while I was still standing around our towels with my phone in my hand. I was in the middle debating which sunset photo I should post from my gallery, but her voice made me look up.

“ Just a second. I’ll catch up. ” I smiled at her before looking back down at my screen. In the end my finger finally tapped the posting button and I pushed it aside while I got the sundress off that was on over my bikini.

Right before I would have ran after the girls, the device was back in my hands so I could check that the picture uploaded without a problem. A smile got on my face when I saw a reaction from one of my family members but as soon as it showed the whole list of the people who looked at my story, it faded away. For the past few months whenever I posted something he was always there in the first few seconds or at least minutes. I couldn’t understand what changed that he showed up in my life again, but I didn't really want to give him space in my thoughts either. It has been almost 4 years since we last talked and could call each other best friends, but I wasn’t about to take the first step and message him after he forgot about me until now. I just dropped my phone back into my bag, closing it and then caught up with my friends so they could make me forget about him again.

We spent quite some time in the water, swimming a few laps back and forth before just standing around and enjoying the last rays of sunshine while we chatted away. My thoughts were already in a different direction thanks to all the different topics that came up between us. Sometimes it was harder to make me forget time and time again, but turns out today I only needed some distraction and everything was set for an enjoyable night. With the sun completely off the sky the temperature dropped quickly and it was getting a bit chilly  for my liking in just a few minutes. When it was truly uncomfortable I gave up and walked back to the shore, sitting down on my own blanket and draping my towel around my shoulders. It immediately brought enough warmth over my body that I stopped shivering and could wait for them until they would get cold too. Until then I just went onto my phone to go through some posts of my friends. Sometimes I looked up to check on them just so they wouldn’t leave me out of something. One of those times I saw a person coming my way and although I didn’t mind too much attention to it, when he continued and there was no one else in my close proximity I felt like he might be coming to me. In the end I was right as he turned right towards me and then stopped just a few steps away from our blankets.

“ Never thought you would exchange our lovely and perfect red stars for ugly white ones. ” He spoke up and I could recognise the voice even though his face was almost unseeable thanks to him standing with his back towards the moon. My jaw dropped immediately and I felt like I grew roots into the ground as I couldn’t move my body. “ If you want me to fuck off, just tell me. It’s okay. I just thought we could maybe talk, and from the pictures I saw that you’re here. Hoped you didn’t go home yet so I could catch you and... ” He started rambling but I was quick to finally push myself up and hug him immediately. I always imagined our reunion with me being angry at him, but somehow I couldn’t get myself to feel that way now that he was standing right in front of me.

“ You idiot. ” I told him not leaving any space for questions and I could feel as he finally relaxed and hugged me back. “ The biggest in the whole world. ” I added with a sigh, closing my eyes as my brain started functioning again and I had an urge to kick his shin at least.

“ I can live with that. ” Marcus let out a laugh and I could feel as my heart jumped a little at the sound. It was something that always reminded me of our home and spending every possible second together. “ I’m sorry for disappearing. ” He let out a sigh, letting go of me only when we realised my wet bathing suit soaked his shirt, although even he didn’t care about it for too long.

“ What are you doing here? I thought F2 wasn't coming here. ” I asked him confused, knowing that we wouldn’t be in this situation if he traveled here for one of the races in the past two years. “ Not like I’m complaining, but I can hardly believe my own eyes and senses. ” I shook my head a little before looking up at him again. He changed, quite a bit since we last met and even though I saw pictures of him it was different in a face-to-face situation.

“ Ferrari invited a few of us so we could gather some experience. The speed I accepted the offer with might have raised some eyebrows. ” Marcus hid his face in his palm, making me chuckle as I could see the situation unfold in front of my eyes like I was there. “ Thought I would DM you and ask if you wanted to meet up maybe. But I realized it would be better offline. ” I had to roll my eyes at his first idea although I knew he wasn’t lying and it for sure went through his brain as a real possibility.

“ You’re lucky you didn’t. I would have blocked you forever I think. My plan was connecting my fist with your face if we ever meet again, right until you showed up here. ” I shook my head with a smile, as I wasn’t proud of what I wanted to do to him. “ I was really angry when you just stopped talking to me. I tried so hard to reach you, but it felt like you didn’t even exist anymore even though they were talking about you almost every week. ” I sighed, sitting back down and leaving enough space for him too.

“ Would have been deserved actually. ” His fingers scratched at the nape of his neck and I could see the tint of purple traveling up his neck. I watched him as he sat down, pulling his legs up and resting his arms onto them. “ I really am sorry. For a part everything got busy with all the training, races and studying, but at the same time I know damn well a message here and there should have been possible. I messed up, everything. ” His eyes shined even in the minimal light of the moon, and I could get myself to look away. Even feeling the burning stares on my back from my friends didn’t get me to turn around.

“ I won’t say that it’s okay, but I accept your apology. How could I not. ” I let out a breath that I realized was still stuck in me since the initial surprise took over my body. “ It feels like we didn’t even skip over like 3 years of each other’s life. Only difference is that you’re finally taller than me, but the baby face’s still there. ” My hand went up to his cheek to pat it gently like my grandma did for him all the time when he came over for lunch. He always hated it but knew that it was a gesture of love from her and a way to show Marcus that she considered him part of our family.

“ Yeah, I guess it’s going to stay forever. ” Marcus huffed, moving his head back a little to avoid my attack, although he failed miserably. “ I almost forgot, congrats for uni. I remember how hard you were studying to get in. Everyone home was ecstatic when I told them about it. ” His hand slapped his forehead, making me laugh with his expression at the slight stinging he caused himself.

“ Thank you, but it’s nothing compared to your second place last year. ” I shrugged a little but as soon as his lips pulled into a slight smirk my eyes rolled on their own. “ Surprise, surprise, I followed your career. Just as much as you followed my life for the past few months. ” I poked him in the ribs with my finger, making him wince for a second before we both started laughing at the little sound he made.

“ Fair. I still hate how Instagram shows who opened your stories. ” He shook his head a little and both of our heads turned towards the water when we realized the background chatting was getting closer and closer to where we were sitting. They were just a few meters away when my eyes landed on their figures and I sensed when Marcus stood up from next to me, making me push myself up too.

I didn’t feel too anxious about him meeting my other friends, although I knew what this meant for my evening at the dorm with them. They would have an immense amount of questions both about him and us, even though I already mentioned him when we were bringing up our past. A few of them even knew about my past feelings about him and how him reappearing on my socials played with my emotions, but they only saw a few photos of him. This was another level and I knew he would be the topic for at least the next week between us, for one reason or another. Depends on how we get on from this point and if we manage to keep in contact when they have to fly away again.

“ Oh, I knew it wasn’t just my imagination. I told you someone was coming here. ” My roommate spoke up as soon as they got close enough to make us out from the darkness. “ You’re Marcus, right? ” She stepped right in front of him, reaching her hand out while introducing herself. I always admired her boldness even in front of strangers.

“ Yes, although I didn’t know so many people knew me from here. ” Marcus let out an uneasy chuckle, looking at me a bit concerned. I just shook my head dismissively, almost telling him that it was just a ‘Girl group’ thing. Relief washed over me though that I didn’t share a lot about him, behind his back.

I watched from the sideline as everyone introduced themselves to him and for a second it felt domestic as all of them shot me a concerned glance towards me. It felt like they would pounce at him if they saw that I was uncomfortable in his presence. While it made me feel loved in a way, I also didn’t want them to really chip on the situation. It was something that better dealt with in private as I felt like we had to talk lots of things through to get back to the friendship we left behind years ago. This wasn’t the setting for a conversation like that.

“ We should probably get home before it gets really late. School won’t wait in the morning. ” I spoke up before any of them could start questioning him. We would never be able to get going then. “ Maybe we can catch up sometime before the race? I’m sure you will have enough to do during the weekend. ” I turned back towards Marcus who looked just as relieved as I did seconds ago.

“ Yeah, that would be better. Maybe lunch, or a coffee in the afternoon? Whenever you’re free of course. ” He nodded a little, still glancing at the girls who were either packing up or staring him down behind me.

“ I’m up for either of those. Surprise me. ” I grinned at him, feeling the pull on my arm when everyone was ready. “ Is your number the same? ” I asked him, already taking a step back, but waiting for his answers.

“ Yes. Never changed. ” Marcus nodded again, a little smile playing on his lips at the idea that we’re going to meet up again probably. At least I hoped so. Why else would he stalk me down and come up to me for a chat?

“ I’m gonna text you in the morning when’s my last lecture. We can meet up after that. ” I told them, before turning around with one last wave and catching up to my group. I could only hope that they would at least let me sleep before the questions start pouring out of them all at once.

[florencewritez]

The cycle

AN: hope yall doing good, i am tired and listenting to kids by mgmt and only kids by mgmt.

WC: 1543 Words 

WARNINGS: lowkey toxic relationship but lowkey the point. alexs jumper gets ruined

"I can't wait to do this again." That's what he'd said the last time we broke up, messing with his hair and casually scrolling through his Instagram. I'd rolled my eyes at the time, saying it was the last time he'd ever see me long enough to say a word to my face. He didn't even look up from a screenshot of a football match, barely even hummed.

At the time, I'd believed my words, pushing past a very confused Alex holding two cups of tea, mumbling an apology before I slammed the front door closed and fell to my knees crying. I hadn't stopped crying till a deliveroo driver had to awkwardly sidestep past me and asked if I was waiting for the food. The taxi drive home had been silent, only noises being my sniffles and incessant typing on my phone.

Y/n: I broke up with George for real this time.

Will: You always say that

Will: By the way did you spill tea on Alex? He's very upset about some expensive hoodie being stained or something

At the time I'd left Will on read, sending Alex a half hearted apology with a few hearts and clicking off my phone. It was then the taxi man turned in his seat and asked if I had had a rough day. I just nodded back, sniffing extra loud for dramatic effect. Yes, I had the worst rough day ever. First, George forgot we had a date, again, and I had to go to his flat to remind him. Then it turned out he'd forgotten to book the damn restaurant and we had to just go back and order takeout. It started with a simple comment of "Maybe we'd be eating actual Italian food and not fucking dominos if someone had remembered to book the restaurant," and spiraled into an extremely heated and quick argument that I can't remember half of. It was just spitting words in each other's faces, not meaning any of them, a crappy movie playing in the back. At one point, Alex came home and attempted to solve things with reason. Of course, such things aren't welcome during stupid fights and he quickly made himself busy with 'editing' in his bedroom.

By the time I'd stumbled in my apartment door, giving a half assed explanation to my very stoned roommate, the idea it was over cemented itself in my head. This time, I'd told myself, biting my lip till it bled, this time I'm not going back.

Easier said than done considering we're in the same friend group and have to consistently film together.

James: Hey y/n, Will wanted me to ask you to come over to his today to film if you're free

Y/n: Yeah I'm free. What's he need me for?

James: Probably a reddit video knowing him though the fact he asked all of us over is a bit suspicious, not to mention he made me text you instead of doing it himself

Y/n: What do you mean he asked everyone over?

James: Haven't you seen the groupchat? Alex, George and Mia said he asked them too. Knowing Will he'll need us for two minutes and then abandon us to edit or something

Y/n: Oh how lovely :)

And now I was here, sitting on Wills couch in between a very scared looking Alex and my ex of two days, listening to Will explain his video idea in great detail. I wish I could lie and say I was listening ever so carefully and definitely not hyper focusing on how George's fingers kept brushing against me accidentally as he moved to drink, wasn't taking notice of ever slight movement of his leg, inching ever so closer to mine. Every so often I'd dare flicker my eyes to his, always at the exact moment he happened to be looking my way. I'd just stick with Mia I told myself, hand curling into a tight fist and gulping, Mia would understand.

"Right so I'm going to film quickly with Mia first because she has to mind her nephew later, can't be late. Shouldn't be too long though so no one get any ideas and leave," Will announced, stating a wiggly Alex down at the last part. Mia stood up, saying she was fine with that. I gave her a pleading look, begging her to stay, to make an excuse and make someone, anyone else, go first. She only gave me a guilty smile back, following Will up the stairs, patting the watch on her wrist. Of course Will chose to film the one day Mia wasn't free for the day.

As soon as they were gone, Alex and James shared a look and quickly excused themselves to the kitchen, Alex nearly tripping over himself as he scurried away. Great friends I have.

For a moment, an awkward silence filled the air, heavier than any scientist thought possible. I gulped and tried to subtly move to where Alex had been sat before but only managed to make a disgustingly loud noise as the leather squelched under me. Curse the summer heat and it's strange sweat noises.

George looked at me properly for the first time, stupidly perfect blue eyes settling carefully on mine. "You look nice."

I squirmed. "Thanks. New skirt."

"Yeah I know, I bought it for you last week." Ouch. I physically cringed and heard George sigh beside me. "Can we talk?"

Crap, the true signal the cycle wasn't over yet. There was always the beginning, crazy and wild and perfect, the pinnacle of a young couple in love in the city. Then came the coziness, nights out turning into nights in and bars turning into movie nights. After that came the fizzle down period, usually lasting for about two weeks before one of us snapped and said it was over. A week later, someone would say can we talk then two minutes later it was back to heavy making out and laughter as the cycle begun again.

Of course this time would be no different, what was two days ago me thinking? This thing with me and George had been going on for nearly three years now, pissing off friends and fans alike with our mysterious relationship status. Still, it suited us pretty well huh?

So, I let out a breathe and nodded, curling my legs under me as I turned to face him.

"Okay fine," I agreed, resting my hand on the couch just near enough his for him to notice. "But only if we take it seriously this time."

He nodded, smiling softly for the first time I'd seen that day, lips turning up at the end and my stomach went all dopey, any hesitation melting away. He'd always have that effect on me it seemed.

"I'm sorry for forgetting about our date, I've just been pretty stressed lately with my upload schedule and stuff and it slipped my mind. It won't happen again." Of course it won't. Every-time we broke up, we never repeated the mistake again. Maybe one day, we'd run out of mistakes to make and things would be the perfect couple we wanted to be.

"And I promise I'll be more reasonable next time something upsets me. We should have mature conversations about stuff like this, like normal couples do." And I would if it meant never feeling that strange tightness that had filled me the past two days without him. One day, we'd get it right, I was sure.

"So does that me-" I cut him off with a quick peck to the lips, laughing when his eyes widened.

"Will you be my boyfriend George?" He didn't reply and only repeated my peck, my hands coming to rest in his hair as I deepened it to something more. "Do you think we'll actually make it to the end?" I asked between kisses, mumbling dangerously close to his lips, having swung my legs over his already.

"Jesus Y/n we haven't even been dating for two minutes yet, might be regretting my decision already." I chuckled, knowing that was his off handed way of saying 'yes of course'. I leaned back in, feeling his hands pull my waist closer before we heard an extremely loud sigh.

"Right next time you break up, wait until I put on something cheap yeah?" Alex groaned, turning back around and walking straight back into the kitchen, carrying two cups of tea again.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing, leaning my for head against George's and relishing in the warmth that came with the contact.

"You know there's a new club open near here. We could go later?" His hands somehow found themselves intertwined with me. It was the same thing over and over again, the same old cycle.

I smiled. "My roommates gone for the night, you can stay at mine after."

It was the same cycle over and over and I lived for it, every part of it. One day, we'll get it right and maybe most of the excitement comes from wondering it this is the time we do everything perfectly. A spark in his eyes reminds me I won't care anyways.

I'm addicted to the cycle as long as it's with him.

[bunny-hoodlum]

I'm not dead!

But I did totally blank out (afain) on this side of the interwebs and I am very, very sorry about that. 🥺 Tbh, I was going to ease back into the Tumblrsphere, cuz I had turned on notificiations for like all of a minute a couple months ago... And then I couldn't watch WandaVision in private listening mode without the audio cutting out from the notifications. XD I feel like I'm somehow showing my age because surely that shouldn't be such a hindrance... Well anyways, I turned off notifications right away and forgot about everything since then. Q n Q

My current brain space in order has been: Kipo: Age of the Wonderbeasts, Dr. Stone, Jujutsu Kaisen, Heaven's Design Team, I've dyed my hair 3 times again, I'm wondering when I can get my ears pierced budget-wise (I'm literally hitting my 13yo milestone at 30, I'm such a late-life bloomer)... I've been eating almost nothing but salad for the past week or two, Idk, the days blur together and time means nothing to me anymore... Going back to shows!!! My recent headspace is: My Hero Academia -- YES I'M FINALLY BINGING IT -- Tokyo Revengers, ODD TAXI (I loooove this unique anime, it's like a gritty Parappa Rappa), Shadows House ... I still have to watch To Your Eternity but I'm going to be all over that!! And I recently decided to watch Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle. I absolutely love it. What I wasn't loving was the Funimation captions being too early since jokes are ALL ABOUT THE TIMING! So I'm still on ep 4.

Will I ever really talk about any of these? Or draw fan art ever again? I have no idea. The urge never crosses. The images never visit my mind anymore.

I'm just dropping this here because it's been awhile and I am alive but I've just got the worst attention span and I will check my messages again just like I always do before I disappear again -- I'm not actively working on anything that I would share on tumblr so that is why I forget to come on here -- what was I getting to? Right, anyways...

I haven't forgotten about the stories I need to update and repost (like "Powerless") but my procrastination keeps kicking in because the amount of time it feels like I'll have to put in towards that stuff is overwhelming, and when it all turns into a multi-project sludge in my brain, I just go hide in video games and shiznots. 😔 Ugh.

Even the thought of updating on FFN is intimidating me. I'm pretty sure all my old files are gone by now because I haven't refreshed them. So to re-upload "Powerless" is literally going to be like from scratch. Not writing it, I mean the editing. The italicization and the bolding and the scene separation!!!

I wish I hadn't deleted it the first time after all. Q_Q It could've just sat there accruing hype or yearning or whatever. Ugh.

Okay, so why is my attention span so bad honestly? Well, I have the chance to not work slave wage and instead actually focus on my 'art'. Ofc my fine motor skills are rusty and my digital drawing program skills are severely lacking. When everyone else has kept at it, I fell behind. That's what it is and what it feels like. I'm just at a hobbyist level, like, it's really, really bad. And I'm struggling not to look back on my life and question why I didn't do more to make sure I went to art school. Like actually work buttloads to go to VCUArts. Idk, my mom 10 yrs ago was like 'you need a car', as if I can't exist anywhere outside her reach without one. But I would've tried to live in the dorms and just bike. UGH. WHY DIDN'T I JUST DO THINGS AND SAID FUCK ALL TO OTHER PPLS WORRYING??!

Sorry. Ahem.

On the other hand... There's Skillshare and Schoolism and things, and even some Youtuber art pros have discord critique days or whatever, and all that is supposed to be a better investment than 200k debt, but I still keep feeling like I avoided really important experiences and that I'm still disadvantaged. I'm prolly am being pessimistic but it feels so objectively true. Ugh. I just don't see the self-taught vs formal education gap ever closing in a satisfactory way.

I forget what my point is. I wish I could update my fics, I really wish I could schedule some time in, but I haven't been able to properly think about any of it for the past three weeks I think. Another thing that's currently occupying my headspace is an artist that goes by HeartMush. I don't want to @ them because I don't want them to see my whining, but I'm sooooo enamored with their skills and envious of their formal education. And other things. Which you could find on their website contained within their downloadable CV. T_T This person feels like a prodigy to me. Lesigh.

Anyways, if I ever come back again, hopefully it'll be some art that I'm proud of. Maybe whenever I get there, I'll have clearer feeling how much farther my goal really is, and that should be enough for me.

[flowerpowell]

Unexpected (Drake x MC)

PART ELEVEN

A/N: Another chapter, yaaay! I thought since it wasnt uploading for weeks, I should post two chapters in a week, so I scheduled this one too. I hope it’s okay! As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts about it! And also I am so happy you all liked Dani! She’s like my baby and I’m so happy youre loving her character! Characters belong to Pixelberry (except for my OCs)

Rating: M (mentions of emotional abuse/manipulation, suggestiveness)

Word count: 2870

Tagging: @gardeningourmet​ @delightfullypinkglitter​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @desireepow-1986​ @dcbbw​ @kingliam2019​ @the-soot-sprite​ @mskaneko​ @thequeenofcronuts​ @dr-ethanjramsey​ @badchoicesposts​ @burnsoslow​ @annekebbphotography​ @alesana45​ @addictedtodrakefanfic​ @walkerduchess​ @ao719​ @texaskitten30​ @lodberg​ @cordonianroyalty​ @emichelle​ @siriusxxvideos​ @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ @samihatuli​ @choices-lurker​ @i-miss-trr​ @drxkewalker​ @nikkis1983​ @innerpostmentality​ @msjr0119​ @bascmve01​ @mind-reader1​ @edgiestwinter​ @drakesensworld​ @queenjilian​ @princessleac1​ @saivilo​ @yukinagato2012​ ♥

“Are you sure it’s gonna work?” Liam asked when Dani was setting up the table.

“I am! Riley loves cooking too much to pass and she’s always softer when she’s cooking. It’s a perfect plan!”

For the past few days since their deal, Liam and Dani kept in touch, exchanging ideas for how to bring Riley and Drake together. When she told him about her plan, Liam immediately agreed and bought all the necessary things.

“So how exactly this is going to work? We call them to come to the kitchen?”

“No, look,” Dani started gesticulating when explaning and Liam thought it was the most adorable thing he ever saw. Pull it together man, she’s only here for a few weeks. “You call Drake saying you found something important and need him and Riley to see it. They come here and will be informed by someone that they should come here. They will come to this,” Dani motioned the table, “and Riley will hate that because I set the table in the way she hates it. Also, the dish that will be served is overcooked because I know Riley wouldn’t eat it but also because I’m bad at cooking. She’ll hate it but just as she will be about to go full on Gordon Ramsey, she’ll see all these ingredients laying here, exactly what she needs to make pasta à la Nana, her favorite dish. She hasn’t made it since Nana died but because I decorated this kitchen so cozy with all these candles and the music you picked is so nostalgic, she’ll do it and Drake will help her. Riley once told me she always dreamed about a man who would cook with her so I know she will fall in love, I mean, admit she is in love because let’s be real, they are so in love. Ta-daaam!” She finished and Liam chuckled. She looked a little crazy as she was talking about all those steps but for some reason he found it cute.

“They’re gonna kill us when they realize what we did.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But Riley’s my sister so she won’t do anything to me.”

“And I have immunity so Drake can’t touch me either. Okay, let’s do this,” Liam pulled out his phone and called Drake.

“Hello? Drake, yes, it’s Liam, are you busy?” He asked and looked at Dani shaking her head. “What?” he mouthed and she whispered, “He has to come even if he’s busy!”

“You know what, it doesn’t matter if you’re busy or not, you need to come,” Liam quickly added before Drake could reply. “Yes, it’s urgent. I know it’s very late but it’s important. And it can’t wait. You and Riley need to see it as soon as possible,” he looked at Dani again and she showed him two thumbs up.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting. Please, hurry.” Liam hung up and turned to Dani. “They’re coming.”

“Eeek, that’s so exciting! We need to hide somewhere before they find us! Does Bastien know what he’s doing?”

“He does and he can’t believe he agreed to help us set these two up,” Liam chuckled. He still remembered his guard’s face when he told him about that top secret mission.

He led Dani to one of the guest rooms that were the closest to the kitchen.

“I hope you don’t mind but I brought some snacks for us in case we get hungry. And some cider made from our apples,” he motioned the table with the food prepared for them.

“Man, you really do like your apples!” Dani laughed trying to hide her nervousness. Even though, Liam acted like a normal person she still felt that wall between them, the wall reminding her of his status and her inferiority. She smiled as he poured them cider and handed one glass to her.

Maybe I can pretend we’re equal for a few hours, just this once.

~~~~

“Liam?! Liam! Where are you?” Drake called out as he entered his friend’s office.

“Maybe he’s in his room?” Riley suggested.

“I don’t think so, Liam never invites anyone to his bedroom so he’s not there for sure. Something is weird though, the whole palace seems... empty.”

“Do you think something happened?”

“No but--”

“Ah, Drake, lady Riley, there you are.”

“Bastien! What’s going on? Where’s Liam?”

“In the kitchen. I got instructions to tell you to go to the kitchen,” Bastien said, his face not expressing anything.

“Kitchen? If he found another apple tea for me to test out I’m gonna kill him,” Riley groaned. Drake took her hand and led her to the kitchen.

“Maybe something bad happened to him, maybe he was--” he stopped seeing the candles and the table set for two. “--preparing this all along.”

“Coral roses, my sister’s favorite,” Riley smelled the flowers on the table. “My sister was helping him.”

“I can’t believe they made me leave the house so late,” Drake groaned looking around.

“And what exactly did you have planned? Whiskey drinking? Watching football? Bartie’s with Madeliene and Barthelemy and Bianca is staying with them,” Riley rolled her eyes. Despite being mad at her sister and Liam she found the situation to be quite funny.

“Don’t tell me you’re okay with it,” he narrowed his eyes and she shrugged.

“Oh, no, they are going to pay but for now, I’m happy I don’t have to cook dinner for tonight. Let’s see what they—what on Earth is that?!” She raised her voice when she took a look at what was inside the pot.

“What? Did they put rats in it?”

“Worse, look! It’s severly overcooked! And not seasoned enough,” Riley spit out the food back to the pot before throwing its content to the trash can. She looked around and noticed fresh ingredients.

“Maybe I can cook something? From these things I could make...” she examined all the products before realizing it, “Pasta à la Nana.”

“What? The one you couldn’t make for years?” Drake asked noticing Riley had tears in her eyes. “Let’s just order something, you don’t have to make it.”

“No... I-I can do it. I just need someone to help me because this is a job for two,” she sniffed as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Riley...”

“No, really. I think it’s time to finally make it again. I think... I think Nana would want that.”

~~~~

“Okay, my turn! Never have I ever had a sleepover at friend’s house.”

“I did spent a few days in Texas at Drake’s when I was still a Prince, does it count?” Liam asked and took a swig of cider when Dani nodded.

“You never had a sleepover?”

“Nope. My father wouldn’t allow,” she laughed but Liam could hear the saddness in it.

“What was your childhood like?” he asked, studying her face.

“Normal, I think. My parents aren’t monster or whatever everyone thinks they are. They took us on trips, to the cinema, for ice cream, they were just very demanding. Well, only my father and only to me. Riley could always do whatever she wanted because they didn’t pay too much attention to her,” she drank a little cider before continuing. “When I was ten I already spoke two foreign languages because instead of meeting with my friends like Riley did, I was stuck at home with a tutor stuying languages. My childhood was good but it didn’t feel like a childhood, if that makes sense.”

“Wow. Only two? When I was ten I already spoke three,” Liam shoved her playfully. “My father was very demanding too. Even though I was the spare it was me who obeyed him, not my brother. He never cared about any rules.”

“Ugh, our fathers suck. Am I allowed to say that about a King?” she asked him and he laughed.

“I’ll allow it.”

“You know what sucks the most?” she asked as she emptied the glass and poured some more cider, “Everyone, including my sister, thinks I had it better. She thinks that at least they loved me, they cared about me and paid for my education. And yes, it’s true but I feel like I had to work for their love, you know what I mean? I had to be their perfect daughter because if I wasn’t, our family would fall apart. I never did what I wanted, never did anything crazy that most people my age would.”

“You never rebelled?” Liam asked remembering his little rebellions. If running to the maze for hide and seek counted as rebellion. He never was good at it, not as good as Leo.

“I did once. I... My father wanted to me to apply for law school. I didn’t want it but I couldn’t argue with my father. So I just... didn’t send the documents on time. When my father found out, it was the worst time of my life. He didn’t scream or anything. He just said he was disappointed because he wanted the best for me and I didn’t appreciate him. The next day my mom told me he was in hospital with severe depression. She yelled at me for ruining my father’s health. I was a mess and I didn’t know what to do. Riley’s younger than me and I didn’t want to bother her with it so I applied for finance even though I hate everything math-related. I went to hospital and I cried in front of my father, apologizing to him and telling him I applied to college. The next day he was back home and told me to never disobey him like that again. And I never did. It was a terrible experience.”

“But that’s manipulation! How could he--” Liam bit his lip before he’d say something he would regret. He heard something about Riley’s parents from Drake but hearing that from Danielle made him sick. Neither Riley, nor Dani deserved such parents. “I’m really sorry. My father was awful but he pales in comparison to yours.”

“I got used to it. Trying my best not to irritate him. I’m working in a bank where he wanted me to work, bringing the money and we’re good.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam repeated and raised his glass. “To problematic childhood, bad fathers and living a life designed by parents!”

Dani laughed as she clinked glasses with Liam. He understood her, which was new to her.

To unexpected allies, she thought to herself. I’d drink to that.

~~~~

“Drake, no, you have to be gentle,” Riley took Drake’s hand and moved it slowly as he was stirring the sauce. “Circular moves, gently, just like that. The other hand holds the pot, good.”

She took some ingredients from the table and started adding to the sauce. “Keep on stirring slowly, I’ll be adding these pinch by pinch so it blends nicely.”

Drake nodded as he kept stirring. There was something special about them cooking together, being so close. It was nothing like Drake knew before, most of the food he made was quick and simple. That pasta was taking ages to make but for some reason he enjoyed each step.

“Okay, now be careful cause I’ll be adding pear puree.”

“I never thought pear and tomatoes would go together,” he noticed.

“Me neither. Nana told me she came up with it when she was pregnant and craved tomatoes and pears. The secret is, you need to caramelize the pears before mashing it and the sweetness goes super well with the tomato. And then Parmesan gives it a bit saltiness but we add it at the end so it’s not too overbearing.”

“You’re really good at this,” Drake turned to her, realizing they were only two or three inches apart. “And you really love it.”

“Well, yeah,” Riley said quietly, “thanks to Nana. She taught me everything.”

“Can I try it?”

Riley nodded and quickly took a spoonful of the sauce and topped it with the cheese before feeding it to Drake. She looked at him, at his mouth, as he was swallowing. “Good?”

“I’ve never eaten anything as good. You have a real talent, Riley. I’m really happy you’ll have your own restaurant soon, you deserve it.”

“Thank you but if you’d rather keep the bar, it’s fine,” she said, surprised with herself. Why did she care more about Drake than about her dream?

“It’s yours, Riley. You’ll prove everyone who never believed in you once the restaurant will become the most famous one in the world,” the certainity in his voice made her shiver. Did he really believe in her or was he just nice? She looked at him as he took a spoonful of sauce, added Parmesan, just like she taught him, and brought to her mouth. She parted her lips and felt that familiar taste, the one that reminded her of her Nana, of home, of love. It was perfect.

“Can’t you see how amazing you are?” Drake whispered and without thinking, Riley stood on her toes and kissed him. He dropped the spoon, and brought her closer to him, deepening the kiss. She put her arms around his neck, trying to bring him even closer but it wasn’t enough. She needed more, more of him, more of that, more.

They were kissing like crazy, like they were waiting their whole life for that moment. Drake pinned her to the stove, knocking out a few plates that fell on the floor and broke. He moved to kissing her neck as she moaned, running her hands through his hair. He pulled back for a second as he realized they were still in the palace.

“Let’s go home,” he rasped and she nodded, kissing him again as they slowly exited the kitchen, locked in a kiss.

~~~~

“I’m not kidding! My mom did tell me to get a plastic surgery once,” Dani laughed as she drank cider.

“What? Why would you need it?”

“She said my boobs were too small.”

“But there’s nothing wrong with your--” Liam composed himself trying not to think about it, “I’m sorry, that’s definitely not anything a daughter would want to hear.”

“Well, she said they were too small and making me unattractive,” she shrugged and realized what she just said. To the King of Cordonia. “Oh my goose, I’m sorry I’m taking about my boobs to you.”

“Goose? Your grandma really loved animals, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, a lot,” Dani answered, relieved Liam changed the topic. “Should we check on Riley and Drake? It’s almost midnight.”

Liam nodded and they tiptoed to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. Liam peeked from behind the door to see if they were still inside but the kitchen was empty.

“Drake? Riley?” he called out but no one answered.

“They made the pasta!” Dani took the pot from the counter and tried a little. “So good!”

“Why didn’t they eat it? I’ll leave it in the fridge so they can take it tomorrow,” Liam offered.

“I think they went straight for the dessert,” she giggled and Liam blushed.

“Well, mission accomplished. I’ll be heading home then.”

“I’ll have my driver drive you back to the hotel.”

“Thanks. And thank you for helping me arrange this and for the snacks and cider. And for letting me rant about my parents.”

“Hey, Danielle,” he asked when she was about to leave, “Would you like to come here in the morning? I would like to show you something.”

“I’d love to,” she smiled and left. Liam looked after her until she disappeared completely. He sat down on a chair and put his head in his hands. He needed to stop, whatever that little feeling he had, before it would be too late. Danielle was leaving soon and besides he already lost his chance at love. It was time to stop dreaming and face the reality. He sighed as he decided him and Danielle must remain friends. Now, it was only his heart that needed to follow through with that decision.

~~~~

Drake and Riley were kissing as they entered the cabin, barely closing the door. Drake picked up Riley and brought her into the bedroom, not stopping kissing her even for a moment. He laid her on the bed, his eyes searching hers, looking for something and she nodded, silently answering his question. He pulled off her dress and his shirt.

“Are you sure? I know it’s your--”

“I am,” she silenced him with a kiss and pulled him close to her. It wasn’t the time to pretend she didn’t like him when every inch of her body and soul needed him. It was the time to face the truth.

And the truth was, she was falling in love with Drake Walker.

[incorrecthousamoquotes]

IncorrectHousamoQuotes in 2020

read me first please

so the blog anniversary was like... April 16. circumstances in 2020 made it so I feel like I owe an explanation for what I’m doing, and at one time I wondered if it’s necessary for a dumb meme blog but I know people care about this dumb meme blog. so this will be mainly 3 parts:

how narwhal had been feeling about the game in 2020

the future of incorrecthousamoquotes

closing remarks about the Tumblr community

how narwhal had been feeling about this game earlier this 2020 (spoiler alert: bad)

ok before I continue I want to say that I’ve been doing fine for myself in real life. I do acknowledge that I have the privilege of remaining financially stable this year and I am happy that I was able to keep my job I was just hired for in the beginning of the year. that being said please let me be internet melodramatic.

if you’ve known me personally and talk to me frequently in Discord servers then you may already know how I’m feeling in 2020. there’s a lot of people that don’t, though.

as part of me being internet melodramatic I do express the anger I felt toward the game and the fandom (outside of Tumblr) but I do not feel or say that the game, the fandom or anyone in particular did anything wrong. my purpose is not to criticize anything or anyone but just saying my feelings.

other than that, some of these feelings may be exaggerated and I do not guarantee my explanations of my feelings will make sense or be sufficient explanations for myself (then again since when did feelings make any sense)

basically me in 2020 was a result of major burnout in this game and the fandom.

my burnout technically began back in Christmas 2019 aka Mistake Christmas (I have feelings about this event but I choose not to elaborate right now) but I think the first thing that got me feeling burnout was late January with Main CH10 and translated CH9. until this point I liked to make self-deprecating jokes about how I haven’t read story yet but this was when I first began feeling I didn’t have a place in the fandom. like... who knew self-deprecating jokes could have a negative effect on my psyche if I think about them enough. how I can explain it is... in the past I wasn’t particularly crazy about new content in particular but I felt like I can vibe with people who were and I did have an interest towards new content. but CH10 was the first time I actively disliked new content and I took it really personally the fact I didn’t try to catch up with main story, so I started to mentally separate myself from the fandom even though I had no reason to. mostly because I held myself to more expectations than anyone would ever put on me.

so after Mistake Christmas & CH10 I ended up losing a lot of enthusiasm especially towards new content. I ended ignoring Val Timeslip completely but I did really like the Great Gendarme rerun. but my burnout hit an all-time low in April during New Semester 2020 which I will refer to as Worst Semester. now at this point I wasn’t looking forward to anything new at this point and the worst part about Worst Semester is that it was basically CH10 Part 2: about half of each banner was characters directly from CH10.

and this was when I started feeling angry at the fandom like an old entitled fan who hates change and can’t stand when people are having fun; basically it was a mix of envy and self-hatred that I couldn’t find anything to be excited about at that time. how could anyone like any of these characters, is what I felt.

that was even without considering the thing that tanked my mood for my blog in particular: summosnap. like even without considering the self-deprecating jokes about being cancelled it forced me to look back about how I’ve been running this blog and how I haven’t made a single new quote in 2020. long story short I kept comparing myself to the high expectations I put on myself and it ruined my motivation to work on what I’ve planned for the anniversary. so the blog anniversary passed completely burned out.

now I have been feeling better because the next few months weren’t particularly new content: May was just rerun month, and June was technically new but was basically from an old game that I liked a lot, so nostalgia has helped me feel better. now it’s July and we have completely new content and I’m feeling anxious over whether I’m willing to accept new content or not. right now in early July I’m actually focusing on other games right now (and reading main story on the side) so I’ll gradually start making more stuff for the fandom.

the future of incorrecthousamoquotes: the Tumblr

if you followed this blog in the past year, then you would know I didn’t have a regular schedule of making quotes in 2019, even though I did in 2018. in 2019 I did make quotes but it was released in batches every other month or so.

even in 2018 I’ve always made other Housamo content, so I’ve always given the impression that this blog is for whatever I feel like making (at least I hope I’ve given that impression) so when I remake my info pages, I will be taking the focus off of incorrect quotes. I can still make them when I get the motivation (and to clear my drafts of submissions I’m sorry) but my info pages won’t mainly talk about incorrect quotes as much as me just making whatever I want for Housamo.

I would like to make more personal posts like I did in 2018. For some reason I held off on the personal posts in 2019, but I think that contributed to my growing mental self-isolation and my eventual burnout. on a related note I’ve been ignoring my askbox and I’m sorry for that. one of the major reasons is that some of the asks I’ve been sent I have no answer to, but in the future if I have no answer to them I might just publish them anyway hopefully to start a discussion and have other people respond if they like.

I’m also going to be more open to just reblogging things because that’s something I’ve always been hesitant to do on this blog for some reason.

what hasn’t changed over the years is that I’ve always covered game news and game info and have taken time writing guides for this game. this will not change and I’ll continue to cover news in the future.

I still have unfinished projects in general and I hope to get them done this year.

the Twitter

as for my Twitter, I have mentioned before that I opened it again this April and will be using it just for uploading the video memes I make. growing the Twitter is not a priority for me, so I have no plans to change that right now.

--which is what I said before I clowned myself trying to make tweets that never took off so I’ve deleted them, sorry for trying to be an attention hoe

starting this month I’ve also permanently changed the name of the Twitter to summemepedia, which better fits the content I make.

closing remarks: I am so grateful for the Housamo Tumblr community

despite how I felt about this game in 2020 I’ve honestly never felt happier for the Housamo Tumblr community posting and writing about what they love. Tumblr as a blogging platform that encourages creativity is a website I will defend with my life and even though Japan mostly uses Twitter so it’s natural Housamo will revolve there, I will still be happy for anyone that still decides to use Tumblr.

I’ve made a list of blogs here that I’ve been saving for anniversary before I had my burnout so you can check out the list and suggest additions to it if you’d like.

[halorocks1214]

ბარტერი (a Thunderbirds fic)

Chapter 1: გატაცებული

AO3 Link

Word Count: 3892

Summary: And here they thought getting their father back was the least of their worries.

i make no promises for this fic. the upload schedule will be totally willy nilly because i havent really been feeling the whole writing thing and because of my other fics and projects and irl shit. i hate to admit it but im on the fence on whether or not this will actually be completed, BUT, i still am surprisingly proud of this so im posting it anyway. hope yall enjoy!

“Okay, what’s the dealio?”

Gordon easily skipped around his younger brother with a slightly faux-naive voice. They were currently out in the field, damn tsunamis not being picked up by the D.A.R.T. soon enough, and while Gordon knew better than to talk about personal things during a rescue, it was the first time in a while he even had the chance to talk to Alan.

Who was currently more forlorn than Gordon was aware he could be if the way he watched his toes kick whatever small rock they strutted past was any indication. It took a moment for Alan to register his older brother’s question, but when he did, he blinked a few times before looking at Gordon with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

Gordon was going to play this slyly. Treat it as banter, not an interrogation. Gordon idly leaned over and picked up a stick. He started to twirl it, never meeting Alan’s gaze directly, “I don’t know, you seem off. Just wanted to see if it was anything I could help with.”

Alan went back to kicking the pebbles, shrugging his shoulders in a way that said ‘this was a big deal but I don’t want you to know that’, “Oh, sorry, just tired. It’s not my fault I was having a wonderful nap in the closet only for John to make me tumble out of it due to the alarms. The fact that we’ve been out here for God knows how many hours doesn’t help.”

Gordon’s chuckles at that statement were slightly fake. Alan was hiding something, and if Gordon had to imitate Scott, well, then it was only Alan’s fault, “Yeah-huh. Sounds good.” He focused on the stick, pretending it was a wand and waving it around as such, “Decided on a college yet?”

Alan still didn’t look up, and Gordon could hear the noises of rocks getting kicked and traveling a foot or two. Alan answered him monotonously, “Uh, not really. I’ve narrowed it down to three. I haven’t brought them up with anyone other than Grandma though since the last thing I want to do is create a World War between our older brothers about which one is better.”

Gordon snorted but then got serious again. Dammit, Gordon, you are not letting him worm his way out of this. Again, “If I promise Scout’s Honor will you tell me them?” He cheekily grinned at Alan, which got a small smile out of the younger brother. Nice, getting closer. Now Gordon was doing that rubber pencil trick with the stick, way more immersed with the visual illusion than he probably should be, “Hmm, is it girl trouble?”

Alan rolled his eyes, but Gordon could tell he was getting annoyed, which meant the older brother was getting close. Alan kept his facade up, crunching a stick underneath his feet as he started walking just a little faster, “If you mean ‘Kayo chased me for accidentally spilling paint on Shadow’s nose’ then yes, I’m having lots of girl trouble.”

Gordon winced wholeheartedly and sympathetically. He remembered when he accidentally tripped and spilled water all over the front of her one night. He wasn’t aware she was a fan of throwing them into the pool just as much as he was until that night. It was in annoyance, but still, Gordon considered it a similar hobby between them regardless, “Yeesh, sorry for bringing up traumatizing memories bro.” Squinting at the stick he was playing with, he put it over his lips like a faux-mustache, lightbulb dinging in his brain with joyful glee, “Boy trouble?”

Alan groaned at started walking way faster than Gordon. Once he was about three feet away from Gordon, he shouted while still facing forward so Gordon could hear him, “Oh my god, let it go, Gordon!”

Bingo, Gordon thought he hit the jackpot. Throwing the stick away and keeping his distance from Alan, his grin went ear to ear with excitement at what he thought was figuring it out, “Oh man, okay, wait, hang on, is it that Bear kid? The one Scott rescued for the umpteenth time last week? Or, wait, didn’t Conrad visit you up at ‘Five two weeks ago during your rotation?” Giggling, Gordon rubbed his hands together mischievously, “Allie, how dare you. Romantic or not, it’s my job to help you out with these things--”

Suddenly and abruptly, and shutting Gordon up, Alan turned around and glared at Gordon while his fists were haphazardly clenched at his hips, “Fine, Mr. Nosey, you wanna know? It’s about Dad, okay?!”

Well, there went any ability to joke in this situation. Gordon lost his smile completely and stared mindlessly at his younger brother, who was breathing heavily and still glaring, but Gordon could tell there was a hint of anxiety behind his eyes.

Dad had been back for about two-and-a-half months now, and the Tracy family seemed to be settling into a new routine with him. Everyone was happy Jeff was back in one piece, none more so than Jeff than himself. They quickly figured out how to slowly integrate him back, starting with daily chores, reaching him having permission to help out with IR, and now they were getting ready to reintroduce him back into Tracy Industries.

The anxiety in Alan’s features was suddenly all Gordon could see in them, followed by Alan shaking his head and turning back around, “Shit-- forget I said anything, that’s not why--”

Before he could even think, Gordon shot his arm out to grab Alan by the wrist, his amber eyes wide with careful thought. He needed to think these words through. The idea that Alan was nervous regarding talking about his own dad was... “Allie… I know you didn’t have as much… time with him, but he’s your father too. You don’t have to hide any opinion about him for me, for us.”

Alan still wasn’t looking at Gordon, but the older brother definitely saw the tiny and hidden flinch the younger brother made at your father too. Gordon barely held back the sharp inhale he wanted to make. Okay, that was an entire suitcase, one he, unfortunately, couldn’t unpack right now (as much as he loathed to admit it that was a Scooter problem), so he focused the first problem he figured out, “Allie, are you upset Dad is back or?...”

That got Alan to turn around, “No! Jesus, Gordon, of course, I’m happy he’s back. The only reason I graduated right before we left was that Scott and John both told me to go do something while we waited because “the way you’re bouncing on your toes is going to burn a hole in the ground and Grandma won’t like that,” remember? I’m ecstatic he’s alive and back home.”

Letting Alan gently go, Gordon took a deep breath to reorganize his thoughts, “Okay, then what about Dad has got you so worked up?”

Alan was suddenly much younger than the fresh, getting-ready-to-go-to-college, young man Gordon saw this morning, “You remember that argument between Scotty and Dad, right? The one about five weeks ago that we shouldn’t have listened in on but did anyway?”

Gordon flinched, not wanting to remember that argument.

The two have made up since then, but it was a shock to just about everybody on the island, including John and Virgil, who the blondes nervously told the morning after so they could get some kind of reassurance the world wasn’t ending. In the Tracys’ quest to have their Fairytale Happily Ever After, it never occurred to them that their father might not like how they were running things.

Scott made a decision that didn’t sit well with the older man, and he let his son know that in tactless, Jeff Tracy fashion. Scott’s decision wasn’t the best per se, certainly not the worst, but he could’ve waited for some better options, but Jeff couldn’t just say that outright, that he was concerned about his son taking risks like that. He had to immediately jump to the idea that Scott’s leadership might be lacking suddenly.

It also didn’t help that Scott couldn’t just fucking say that, while he was sorry for being slightly rash, he didn’t like being undermined after years of successful leadership. He went straight for the fact that Jeff had been gone for the past eight years. Scott didn’t blame the man for it, God no, but the insinuation that Jeff wasn’t any better than Scott because of it stung everyone in the room. Because being reminded of the fact that Dad was technically a dead man for a big portion of all of their lives wasn’t bad enough.

Gordon forgot that Scott could be too much like Jeff for his own fucking good, as well as the fact that Scott did get it from Jeff Tracy of all people.

Adult men Gordon’s ass, two old and stubborn as hell mules more like it.

They were both stuck on the fact that now there might have to be challenges of authority, and frankly, now that the oldest outside of Grandma put that idea on the table, it bothered everyone else barely more than those two combined.

Jeff apologized for how he acted after Grandma ripped him a new one, and Scott apologized for jumping the gun a little bit too (after Grandma yelled at him as well), but there was no promising no second fight, least of all one like that.

It was a little like being a kid and watching Mommy and Daddy fight for the first time.

Long story short: it sucked ass.

Alan took a shuddery breath and brought Gordon down from that memory. Alan then proceeded to wrap his arms around himself, rubbing up and down in a weak attempt to ground himself, “I just… what if he had all these ideas about me while he was up there, and what if I’m completely different from those ideas and it disappoints him?”

Oh, sweet Jiminy Cricket.

What the hell was Gordon to say to that? Jeff was a loving a supportive father, more so than others. Gordon remembered all of his swim meets and such for a good reason, so his first response to that statement was easily of course he would be proud of you!

But there was an ever so tiny thing that grabbed Gordon’s tongue from saying that outright. It was honestly minor, so he wasn’t sure why it kept hitting him like a fucking truck.

Eight. Years.

Jeff Tracy was a remarkable man, and even more remarkable father, but nobody spent eight years in isolation, let alone spent it thousands of miles up in space, without it having some kind of consequence. Jeff would never outright disown his sons for anything as long as it wasn’t illegal or got themselves or others hurt, but he was human, and he had preferences just like the rest of them had.

So, disappointed? Hell no. But potentially shocked and uninterested? Less supportive than other endeavors? Gordon loved his father, but he had to admit that he was at a loss. There weren’t Dead Men for Dummies books anywhere, and it sucked to say it, but Jeff was different. They were different, and the only way they would know how this Jeff reacted to things would be an in-the-moment experience, and if Scott’s and his argument was the first concrete example they had...

With how different Gordon was to the rest of his family, he always worried that he would never fully fit in. When Jeff came back he was excited just as much as Alan, as the rest of his family, but Gordon was always worried about his dad the most. He cheered him on at his swim meets, sure, but Gordon was always keenly aware of how the man, outside of taking him to and from them and, well, cheering, lots and lots of cheering, never really asked more than How did it go, sport?

Gordon wanted to be the only Tracy with that fear. It sucked, but in the end, his family always came through even if they weren’t aware of his anxieties. Now that Alan has them, over his father no less…

That just brings them right back around to the start: Gordon would be lying to himself if he knew what Jeff thought of him, let alone Alan.

Alan was a perceptive person, and if Gordon lied to himself, Alan would see that and know Gordon was lying to him as well, and that would very easily make the situation worse.

However, before Gordon had any chance to say something, words pulled from his ass or otherwise, anything to ease his baby brother’s low thoughts, footsteps rustled in the distance, causing the two blondes to snap their heads to look to the side. What they saw were two men, one larger and older, another younger and seemingly out of his comfort zone, in a sense. Gordon was going to chalk it up to ‘being a rescuee after a tsunami’, but his squid senses were tingling, and he felt himself easily go slightly taut.

The younger stranger blinked a few times before snapping his head up to look at the two IR Operatives in front of him. His eyes lit up, and Gordon suspected it wasn’t because he was about to be rescued.

“Oh, shit, these guys are young. How much do you think they would sell for?”

And just like that, Gordon’s gut twisted into a killer pretzel and was dropped off a five-story building. This had to be a joke, had to be. These kinds of people were only supposed to exist in horror stories. In the dark parts of the internet that are mainly regarded as myths, created to scar the poor children who snuck onto their parents’ laptop without permission. Even if they were real, Gordon and Alan couldn’t have had that bad of luck to--

“Remember what we said about famous people? Forget the ages, these guys are International Rescue. Most clients will throw physicality to the wind if something famous is involved.”

Gordon also thought that your pupil shrinking to the size of the tip of a needle when you’re terrified was a myth, but as the blood completely drained from his face and left him white as a sheet, he had to concede he was wrong about multiple things tonight.

Holy hand grenade in a fucking handbasket.

The state of shock his body was forcing him to enter was bad, like, shock-blankets-are-required level bad, but trembles from a different body right next to him snapped him back into attention.

Alan was trembling, his grip on Gordon’s arm so tight that the older brother wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises when his outfit was finally taken off. There was only a marginal amount more color compared to Gordon behind those freckles, and Gordon couldn’t tell if his brother’s pupils were any smaller with the way the kid was flicking them around like crazy, “Wha-- what are they talking about?”

Ah, shock was one hell of a bitch.

Alan was 18 years of age, an adult. He flew a rocket into space for a part-time job. He also lived on an island where he was mainly homeschooled and was soon to be off at some kind of college (maybe even online classes). As embarrassing as it could be, his family wasn’t going to be the puritan fam that shoved the mere thought of sex to the sidelines. Alan had four older brothers who spent a significant amount of time on the mainland around other people more than the youngest could ever dream of. Most time of which was spent in their respective high schools (or Olympics fields, ‘cause Gordon wasn’t exactly of age when he still had school over there) with hot girls and boys-- similar hobbies or not-- that had the same level of hormones flying about.

They knew things and weren’t afraid to answer any question Alan had.

Also, Alan had a huge internet hobby; video games, browsing social media, you name it. The kid’s probably heard stories that would give Scott hernias for days. Alan had to have stumbled across the topic of human trafficking somewhere, whether it was the plot of a teen-rated video game or something as simple as a news article. At the end of the day, this kind of thing was something everyone was subconsciously aware of, but you didn’t think about it because A, it was awful, and B, more often than not, it didn’t happen to you.

But the way Alan stared at Gordon like the prankster held the stars in his palms-- as if he could snap his fingers and bring them to safety in the blink of an eye reminded Gordon that Alan was always a little bit more sheltered than any of them could help it. Alan was one of the last things their mother gave them, and the way John and he essentially became her just split into two people hurt more than any of them would be willing to admit.

Alan knew the horrors of the world firsthand, but he never had to fully grasp it because his older brothers would be there to shoulder it for him.

Always.

Like hell Gordon was going to drop that tradition today.

“Alan, run.”

With a shove and a half, Gordon ripped his little brother’s hand from his upper arm and sent him in the other direction. Gordon also ripped his own heart in half as he ignored the somewhat naive cry of Gordon! as it got quieter and quieter. Despite the guilt, Alan listened and booked it. Like a baby calf being told to run away from starving lions while the mom stayed behind to protect it. Gordon, mostly satisfied that his bro was safe, turned around and swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat.

He was hoping his glare could be as scary as Scott’s or even Virgil’s, but the way the creepy strangers just chuckled as if the threat he posed was no bigger than a tiny kitten filled Gordon with both anger and fear. They knew he was from IR. If they weren’t scared of him, what did that mean they were prepared for?

The older man stated an order, one that had Gordon’s blood run cold, “Go after the other. I got this one.”

Gordon got out half an angry “Hey!” before the man that spoke suddenly charged at him. On reflex, Gordon put himself into a fighting stance and prevented both of them from toppling over. He hardly considered it a victory, though, as the other guy who was ordered to run after Gordon’s baby brother was gone and out of sight before Gordon could even look up after nearly having the wind knocked out of him.

Gritting his teeth and shoving the man off of him, bringing his arms up and curling his fists with a glare brighter than his hair, the only plan he could go with was the one where he took this guy down as quickly as possible. Right now, the only solace Gordon had was the fact that his brother was a quick puppy. He didn’t only need ‘Three to move at the speed of light.

C’mon, Alan, show me why Track was worth it.

Focusing completely on his enemy, Gordon figured the man was intentionally slimy with his words, as the only thing he did in response to Gordon tensing like a cornered animal was to chuckle in cold amusement, “You’re a wily one, they’ll like that.”

Don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t--

Gordon reinstigated the fight with a snarl, landing a punch that didn’t cause as much damage as he wanted, but it was enough for him to gain a slight upper hand. The man wasn’t thrown off balance, nor did he majorly flinch back from the recoil, but he did understand that he had to play more defensively. It was like two stubborn stallions fighting over the mare in the area.

One young and smaller and quicker, his age not a roadblock but an easy strength. If he hit just right his opponent would topple over as quickly as he could throw his fists. The older one, however, was still larger, and while he might have been slower and less agile, his age allowed more wisdom and understanding. He’s probably seen (and kidnapped) many like Gordon, so he knew exactly how to play him like a damn fiddle.

It was hard to say who would win until one of them was either running for the hills, beaten and bloody, or dead at the victor’s feet.

Gordon wasn’t sure how long they went at it, but he knew it was longer than he liked.

He was somehow barely winning it regardless, and he was fully prepared to give Penny a big heckin smooch for the lessons that were currently saving his life, but even with her endless knowledge and background, she couldn’t prepare Gordon for dirty tactics. Stallions fighting over mares usually just involve two of them.

Right as Gordon was able to grab the man’s arms and wring them around his back, a magical third person appeared, different to the second one that went after Alan, like a freaking wizard with his own magic wand.

Which was also known as a cattle prod to most.

The pokey object was jabbed into his side. Fire filled his body, making him scream out in pain. Gordon remembered when he and Virgil messed with one back on the farm as kids and how they learned their lesson the hard way. He was hoping to never “learn” it again. Yet as a couple thousand volts flared throughout his abdomen, even with the suit, he had to relent and let go of his makeshift hostage. His body was on autopilot and it said get away from source of burning pain.

His body tried, oh, it tried, but what was previously his prisoner managed to stand in the blink of an eye and swing a fist into the side that wasn’t being tortured by an agricultural device. With another short, cut off scream, Gordon fell over onto his ass. His wheezes were brutal, the air not wanting to come back into his body despite itself. At this point, the logical part of his brain was telling him he wasn’t going to get away and he should save his energy to withstand whatever these people were going to do to him, but as always, the emotional part was overriding everything.

Shit, guys, help! Scotty, Virg, Dad--

He turned around to be on his hands and knees and scrambled to try and run as Alan did. He might be faster in the water than on land, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one quick son of a bitch when he wanted to be. It was enough for his gym classes, it was enough when he needed to run away after a successful prank, it was enough when his grandma needed a new test subject...

But it wasn’t enough here.

The cattle prod was shoved into the back of his neck, and with it came darkness and a growing sense of dread.

Please, Mom, get Allie to our family.

[kristallioness]

2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019

*arrives a month late*... Happy 2021 to all of you, my dear followers! *raises a glass* It seems that my tendency to finish my artwork or personal posts on time has only gotten worse over time (I blame work *lol*). Oh well, better late than never, since there are things I would still like to take with me from this extraordinary year of 2020.

It is cringeworthy that I have two huge red X-s this year. But after I'd put these puzzle pieces together, I remembered far too well what was going on in my (work) life at the time, so it's completely understandable why I didn't have the time nor the energy to draw at all during those two months.

What were those typical statistics that I wrote about again to compare the years? *goes to read last year's post*.. Oh, right! In 2020, I managed to finish 3 full digital drawings (from the months of April, July and December) as well as work on several sketches. I wrote 28,154 words worth of fanfiction (oohh, that's a lot better than previous year), plus 3,126 words in English (I dare say I wrote an equal amount in Estonian) for the prompts I got during UYLD (making the total 31,280 words, which is quite impressive!).

I finished reading the 1st Kyoshi novel in the evening of the 20th and slightly past midnight on the 21st December (barely before the holidays, but I set this goal for myself and I did it!). Am already looking forward to starting with the 2nd part some time this year. Besides that, I ordered and received all the other new Avatar books that came out (3rd part of "Ruins of the Empire", "Katara and the Pirate's Silver", "Legacy of the Fire Nation") as well as BOTH Avatar series DVD sets (I still can't believe I found these on sale on some random online store in Estonia, but these are now among my most prized possessions!).

I finally started my Avatar rewatch last January, but merely got to the Ba Sing Se episodes in Book 2 (I need to continue with "The Earth King") and now it's been 5 YEARS since I last saw Korra. Reading through my journal personal posts from last year, I know far too well that it's not about rushing through it as fast as possible. Instead, I should enjoy the ride and continue watching the episodes when I'm well rested and in the right mood. That way I'll end up feeling much more at peace.

As for the entire year as a whole? I don't think anyone in this world of ours was prepared for the way this decade would begin - with an uncontrollable pandemic, the virus of which is randomly attacking and threatening to wipe out the weakest amongst us. If any of you (or even if you know someone who) have lost a loved one to this plague, there is not much else I can offer but my sincerest condolences! Me, my family, friends and colleagues seem to have managed to avoid catching it so far. *spits 3 x over her shoulder*

I had such high hopes for this year in so many ways. Event-wise I was looking forward to watching the Eurovision Song Contest in May (where Uku Suviste was supposed to represent Estonia for the 1st time ever after so many unfortunate failures to get selected as the winner of our local competition), the European Football Championships in June (asking my colleagues which countries they support, perhaps make fun bets / guesses with them to see whose team would win the matches), the Tokyo Olympic Games in July-August, the President of Estonia (Mrs. Kersti Kaljulaid) coming to visit my hometown to celebrate our Victory Day by taking part in the parade together with the Defence Forces (after 15 years *sigh*)...

I will always remember my last big event, which took place when life used to be "normal", so to say. It was the 102nd anniversary of Estonia on the 24th of February, when I took part of all the most important celebrations in Tallinn on our Independence Day, FULL-TIME (whenever I scroll through my Facebook timeline, I see the photos I uploaded of that day, my heart melts and I smile fondly). But the day after that.. utter hell broke loose. We had our first infected person in the country.

I will also remember the last day I went to work in "normal" conditions. Friday, the 13th of March (typically my lucky day-number combination): I missed the tram I wanted to get on in the morning, at work my team received great news that one of our colleague's family had grown bigger by a new tiny member the day before, we had our last team lunch together, we discussed the safety measures that we should take and joked about what might happen next week, I took the bus home instead of the tram (as the tram's route came from the airport and that place was considered to be more dangerous and with a higher risk of catching this virus).. It was another 2.5 weeks later by then (since the 25th of February) - Estonia (along with the rest of Europe) went into full lockdown.

The beginning was frightening and people were on edge, nobody really knew what to do nor what was gonna happen next. But in time, things began to shake into place and everybody developed a comfortable routine for remote work, including figuring out how to get everyday things done (such as grocery shopping). I found solace in taking photographs of various beautiful bird species, who began to fly around and serenaded me during spring, visiting the trees around my "nest" i.e. rented apartment (with a pair of them ACTUALLY building a nest in the chestnut tree right beside my window, thus turning me into a protective godmother of their chicks).

To be honest, I was awestruck by the positive / surprising aftermath of this lockdown: how the world / environment began to heal itself from the pollution that was normally caused by humans. I was taken aback by how dead silent our usually loud capital became in my neighbourhood (I could only hear trams passing by my house according to their schedules, practically no cars whatsoever, streets were empty of people.. absolute silence).

By May-June, things started to look up in Estonia (as well as the rest of Europe) and people were allowed to start travelling / moving around more freely. During my vacation in July, I managed to go to my last (open air) event (for the rest of the year) under these new "corona" conditions and ended up having a blast at the Open Farm Days in my home county for the first time.

Our country's shining moment came during the first week of September, when we hosted the first ever Rally Estonia of the World Rally Championship (WRC), where our very own Ott Tänak and Martin Järveoja won. The event was so well organized and successful that nobody caught the virus nor did the spectators / participants spread it to others, which surely must've helped in ensuring us a spot in the WRC calendar for 2021 as well.

The remainder of the year was rather dull, with the exception of the US Presidential elections in November, when we were all holding our breaths that Joe Biden would win (congratulations, my American friends!). This eventually led to the painful downfall of THE WORST government the Republic of Estonia has ever had, and to the rise of our first female Prime Minister, Kaja Kallas (both happening in January 2021, I couldn't believe it all spiralled so soon, ha-ha!).

Anyways, during the last 4 months, work was very stressful and driving me nuts, so badly that when I eventually went on vacation before Christmas, I had a slight anxiety disorder that wouldn't let me relax for several days (luckily it went away just as quickly once I began to take it easy and managed to get some proper rest / sleep).

In hindsight, I kind of get this weird feeling as if I saw this whole thing coming, given how actively I was living my life throughout 2019. My final year of the 2010's was so full of important events and personal achievements. It's almost as if something mysterious inside was driving me, telling me to visit all the places and do all the things I wanted to do, cause I wouldn't have this sort of a chance again for a very long time.

This must be the main reason why I am thankful for 2020 for going the way it did. Sure, I'm disappointed that a lot of events were cancelled, that so many people have had to leave this world so soon due to this unpredictable disease.. But I think there are so many lessons to take from what came out of all of this. I believe the world needed some sort of a restart or break, given in what direction we were headed (politically, economically, environmentally, socially etc.). I'm just sorry it's had to come with such a high price of innocent lives.

I have even higher hopes for 2021, given how amazingly January has already passed for me and my country, and what is to come in my hometown in February. Let's take the lessons learned from 2020 with us and keep on heading back towards the "normal" lifestyle we used to know. Except this time, let's improve our ways, put all the hatred behind us, be more considerate, keep a distance, stay safe, but still try to make the world a better place for everyone. Thank you so much for reading, for remaining by my side, and for your support and love throughout the years, my friends! I hope to see you all alive and healthy at the end of the white metal ox year of 2021! *virtual hugs*

[rosaetae]

the chrysanthemum effect | 1

[this chapter is apart of the chrysanthemum effect] 

☇ “Keeping your flowers, keeping your pain— it's already everything you need to move on. How do you move on from things if you're not willing to accept them?"

➣  pairing: taehyung x reader

➣  genre: hanahaki!au, model!taehyung, weddingplanner(ish)!au  

➣  word count: 3.7k 

➣  a/n: here’s the first chapter! i really hope you guys enjoy it and i PROMISE i’ll have it uploaded on wattpad too :) 

➣  summary: the hanahaki disease has become a stigma in this world where if you had it, you are looked down upon. her flowers were white chrysanthemums and they have been for the past two years. she was in love with someone who obviously didn’t feel the same way, and this was her way of moving on— along with the people in her life who had to conform around the hanahaki disease.

There it was.

The minute your eyes open, there was that annoying churning feeling that you've eventually grown accustomed to after 2 years of waking up to it every morning. The use of an alarm clock and a cup of coffee became redundant in your everyday life when that sharp pain in your stomach became the wake up call you needed, though not ideal.

These small things that you've known from waking up to the obnoxious noise of an alarm clock or even enjoying a cup of coffee with plain milk for the sole purpose of caffeine became luxuries to you.

It all became... blurry, and now you live with waking up to the discomfort and having to prevent from anything to happen afterwards.

And by that, you mean the spewing of your flowers that represent, in the society that you grew up in, foolishness, naivety, and simply what else that makes up unrequited love.

You would always try to immediately sit up straight to prevent that. And you have been doing so for almost 2 years.

The Hanahaki Disease was something, as your mother recalls, fools have. She claims that you had to be an idiot for still having feelings for someone who stopped altogether. Or just naive to think that you can be in love and not keep those lingering feelings that come awry. Needless to say when you called your mother about your diagnosis, you were an idiot in her mind, but she knew it were to be inevitable to happen when you told her about him.

Your parents have been pushing you to take the surgery since the beginning— not to mind the expenses as they wanted to pay from their own pocket, but it wasn't that you didn't wanted to take the surgery. You would have done it the minute you saw your flowers floating on toilet water that unfaithful night at a stranger's bathroom, but if it weren't for the fact that removing your flowers would also remove your memories of the one you love, then you would've undoubtedly done it.

Now, you go to check-ups once every Wednesday with Doctor Wren who not only became your doctor in helping to help you cope with your flowers, he became someone you confide to as he was also, unfortunately, one who had Hanahaki Disease albeit he took the surgery.

"I know I said we wouldn't have two check-ups this week, but can you open up Friday morning?" Doctor Wren asks as you sit up watching him type something into his computer.

"Sure," you reply smoothly, eyes scanning the clinic room. "Same time?"

"Yes. 10 AM," he nods, eyes scrunching as he clicks and types something into the computer. He's probably updating your prescriptions, or scheduling the next check up that same week. "Sorry for the last minute change, but I just want to make sure your vitals are okay since tomorrow is..."

Hearing his voice trail off, you caught his momentary glance, giving him a knowing nod. He was always cautious to particular events like tomorrow. Having to have a check up with him every week for two years, he had come to know when the most crucial dates of your life are even when you didn't tell him— you didn't need to. From finding out how fast your heart races and having to find you throwing up in the clinic's trash can when he just walked in, he knew these symptoms led to something.

"Have you been taking your medicine?"

You nod honestly. "Once every night like you tell me."

"Good," he states. You were glad he didn't peg you as someone who would lie about taking their medicine, fortunately. Maybe you missed a night or two, but that only led to the unwelcoming feeling equivalent to the feeling after chugging down a whole bottle of Hennessy, so you try your best not to skip a night. "Have they been seemingly getting worst?"

"Nope. Can't tell if it's the medicine working or if I'm just really good at swallowing them down."

Doctor Wren snorts. "Try swallowing down sunflowers. Worst thing ever."

"Sunflowers," you marvel as the image of radiant yellow paints your mind. To you, he seemed like a roses or carnations type of guy. "Why sunflowers?"

You watch as he gives your curious self a glance, raising a flashlight to indicate that he was going to flash the usual white light in your eyes and have you follow it.

"Her wedding bouquet," he says as he was midway moving the light horizontally. "Well. Supposedly. We got married in the summer. July 2015. She made it her bouquet, centerpiece, the aisle decorations," he continues, clicking off the flashlight to where you blinked multiple times and nod. "At least, that's what my friends have told me. If I'm being completely honest with you, I don't remember a thing about her."

And that, admittedly, is where it scares you.

The idea of forgetting the memories that you make. The people that you meet.

That is a choice given by divine right through the surgery of flowers that once removed, so will the memories of your loved one.

A lot of people, when the suffering becomes too much, too painful— they result into taking the surgery.

The biggest misconception of the Hanahaki Disease is that people believe that getting the surgery finally means moving on. It's not.

You remember Doctor Wren asking you after 6 months in of suppressing your flowers on "why you don't just take surgery?" And you had told him this— the reason why you're still going even after 2 years.

"Keeping your flowers, keeping your pain— it's already everything you need to move on," you state as he was injecting a needle into your arm. "How do you move on from things if you're not willing to accept them?"

Doctor Wren looks at you at that moment with curiosity. As if he was wondering what on earth happened to you to have you think such a thing.

"It's something that I thought about a couple months back," you answer to his wandering question. "I was staring at my flowers and then I thought that maybe I'm strong enough to move on from this type of pain. That I can move on and still have him in my thoughts, you know."

"Let me ask you something, ___. Why do you want to remember Taehyung so badly?"

As the sound of his name still brings butterflies, you simply shrugged your other arm, a tiny curl of your lips growing on your face. "Coming to terms on loving someone who you know doesn't love you back, to me, seems like a step of acceptance and loving yourself even when someone doesn't love you back. A bit paradoxical and confusing, but in a world where the gods find that loving someone who doesn't feel the same is foolish? I'd say my morals are the least of anyone's worries."

"I'd say your morals can save a life," Doctor Wren says. "And I, for one, hope it can save yours."

And that's when Doctor Wren felt like a soul you knew. Either in another lifetime or in a parallel universe. Just the way he is and just the way he could understand what you're going through. In the beginning, you almost felt like he was just using you for his research on the Hanahaki Disease, but finding out that he too also coughed up flowers, you knew that he was also trying to cure you. He always asked questions about you and your life, but your answer to those questions used to be open-ended and bland.

However, throughout time, he became someone you gradually opened up to, and your answers became something he took note of. Just like give and take, Doctor Wren opened up to you as well. As he asks you questions about your origin of the disease, he tells you about the post of his disease— his husband.

You watch as he unraveled his stethoscope from his neck and placed them into his ears. Like always, you remove your jacket for him so he could hear your heartbeat clearer.

As he placed the end to your upper back, you begin to breathe in and breathe out.

"What's your reasoning for chrysanthemums?"

He glances down at his watch before he looks at you for an answer to which you shrug.

"It was a book that he got me," you smile sadly. "White Chrysanthemums. He thought real flowers were cheesy."

He gives a wry grin. "Seems like a romantic."

"Oh he is," you chuckle lightly, only to have it die down in sudden realization. Doctor Wren must have caught it because he takes his stethoscope back. "Or he was... to me."

He didn't need to use his stethoscope to to hear your heart break at that single moment.

"Love, romance... whatever," he begins as he slowly stands up and walks over to his computer. "It can bring us happiness or adrenaline. Or it can brings us pain and suffering. But if there's anything that I learned from my life and yours, we need both. The universe likes to make us live in hell, but it's only to make us stronger."

You snort at him. "Did you get a degree in romance, too?"

"Associates, actually," he laughs before he's straightening up his composure. "I want you to call me as soon as something happens tomorrow. I remember last year it smelled chrysanthemums everywhere for a week. In a hospital."

Growing a tinge of embarrassment, you let out a sheepish laugh and nodded. "Yeah, well, thanks to you, I'm better at suppressing them."

"Take your medication," he says, letting his composure unravel as a notion that was the end of the check-up.

"I will."

"And drink the tea."

You throw your jacket on and jump off of the chair you at in. "The tea is the best part."

"No."

"Yes."

"The hell I am."

"Yes, the hell you are."

"No, Hoseok," you stress as you grab your bag from the counter chair along with your files for your boss to look over. "After work, I'm going straight home and taking a long nap. I'm not interested in going to a club where most people drown their sorrows through drinking and dancing."

Hoseok scoffs. "Most people don't do that at clubs."

"Let me guess, you want to take me to Mint Night. That's the number one place where broken hearts go, Hoseok. Their pipes get clogged like every other night because of the influx of petals being flushed down the damn toilet," you explain in a passive aggressive tone, rounding around the table to grab your keys. Hoseok was trailing behind you, annoyed stance and all by your objection, but when turn around, you narrow your eyes at him. "Why would you think I would agree with that?"

"Aw, come on, Sugartits!" Hoseok groans as you walk away to grab your shoes "You used to love going to the club. Come on, it's been awhile."

"When was the last time I went?"

Hoseok shrugs. "I don't know— like a year ago?"

"Wrong, idiot. It was last week to pick you and Somin's drunk asses up."

"Okay, no. That doesn't count because you weren't having fun."

"I don't have fun at clubs anymore, Hoseok. I can't even remember the last time I was having fun at one."

It was true. The last time you went to the club was for the intention of drowning away your sorrows. Mint Night was good for that— it's especially known for that. You were probably at the lowest of the low— pain and everything, but those nights were too blurry for you to recall.

Somin, bless her sweet sympathetic soul, was always the one to pick you up in the middle of the night in her pajamas.

Then that night became nights and it wasn't just her being concerned about your well-being anymore.

One night, you stumbled upon Hoseok, someone you met through Taehyung, and he was wondering why on earth you were at the night club alone. It was that moment where perfect timing seemed existent because that's when Somin found you, and though she thought that Hoseok was a harasser at first, you couldn't help notice the way Hoseok made Somin laugh (even if it was just a little bit). You'd like to pat yourself on the back for, in a way, bringing those two together. Though it's just them that makes it hard for you to actually feel successful in your weak attempt at match-making.

Hoseok didn't like labels and Somin didn't like commitment— and now they're stuck in this gray area where they're attracted to each other (obviously... since Hoseok likes to raid your shared apartment every now and then), but coming to terms on what their relationship is not apart of their so-called agreement.

And now Hoseok has suddenly grown the heart to take care of you after finding you one night with petals surrounding you, and suddenly that encounter at the night club and the constant doctor check-ups clicked.

Not that you hated him, but knowing how Taehyung and him are friends keeps you at your toes because the last thing you would want was for Taehyung to find out about your flowers. And it's not like he pities you either— he just feels that there was a moment where you were happy and he just wants you to experience that happiness again.

So, friends is where you think you and Hoseok lies— the one label that Hoseok doesn't mind.

"Well, tonight is your night to have fun! Come on, I drove straight here during my break just to invite you."

"Oh, invite me," you laugh. "Don't you have work? Like some business offer to worry about? Or, I don't know, planning a charity event you're hosting next weekend?"

Hoseok groans. "You make this difficult."

You pause and as you turn around to face his exasperation, you look at him with a teasing smile. "No one asked you to come here and beg me to go to a club to because tonight is one of those nights," you retort before he's groaning again. "Hoseok, I'll be fine. I just need some carbs and a some sleep and tomorrow everything will be okay. Stop worrying."

"It's because I worry that I'm not letting you do that."

"That's sweet. Jung Hoseok worries about me and my well-being," you surmise as you notice that you were getting on his nerve. "I think you know me enough to know that I'm capable of my own."

You give Hoseok a glance while you open the door. He had a crinkled, frustrated look and you couldn't help but snort at him. "Why can't you just go? For me?"

Giving him another smile, you shook your head. "Because I don't want to."

If you had known that you were going to have to go anyways just to pick their Hoseok and Somin's drunk selves up, then maybe you wouldn't have gone through that constant banter with Hoseok. Because when you wake up to 5 missed calls and 32 drunk messages from both Hoseok and Somin, you begin to curse yourself for not thinking that you would actually get to sleep through the night.

You're blindly grabbing at your glasses, giving yourself sight to turn on the light. It was 2 AM and here you were, grabbing a jacket and a pair of shoes to take a bus to the damn club.

Knowing Hoseok, he probably drove there again. The first time was an accident and he ended up drinking to where you were called and had to drive his car back to your apartment. The second time was just a dependent mechanism where he knew he had you and of course, you would drive down there just to make sure they got home safe.

Before, you just wondered why Hoseok didn't just call his chauffeur, but he complained about how he can't afford to be seen leaving a club with Somin and into his well known car— and abandoning Somin alone wasn't the move either.

Arriving at their usual club, Pandemonium, you wave at the bouncer who had known you for the multiple times you were here for your sake and for Hoseok and Somin's sake. He lets you in easily, and you were suddenly in a complete wake when you hear the loud music and piercing bass and the smell of alcohol in the air. It was all familiar, but no longer your cup of tea.

You'd always look at the bar first, but it was empty except for a girl who was downing a round of shots in front of her. And then the dance floor was still packed, filled with strangers who blended in with each other. And then the VIP area where Hoseok had easy access to, but knowing Somin, she probably wouldn't have gone there due to it being on the second level.

Instead of looking thoroughly in a place that made you unsettlingly queasy, you depart to the nearest bathroom, knowing the way to it with ease even your drunken mind could make its way to the closest toilet to throw up anything remaining in your stomach.

As you go in, you're, surprisingly, introduced to an empty bathroom, with the music being muffled the second the door closed behind you. You dig your phone out of your hoodie to immediately text Somin where her and Hoseok were followed by her many text messages of "pick us uppp!" or "can u pick us up pls??!1".

Texting her with annoyance because it was 2 AM and you couldn't find them the first round of gazing around the club, you were then interrupted with the sudden slam of the door and hurried shuffles of someone who was in urgency. You look up from your screen and peer at the mirror to see the same profile of the girl at the bar taking too many shots to count push at the nearest stall. It didn't take you long to realize what she needed to do by the way she clutched her stomach.

Admittedly, you were curious and you wanted to help. You couldn't stand the sound of her stomach being forced to empty itself and not one person was accompanying her to help her.

You cautiously open the stall door to see her form lurched over the toilet, throwing up her entire guts. As you near her, you realize that they weren't the unfortunate image of her lunch or bile— they were actually flowers.

They were blue poppies.

Silently, you kneel down at her height, gather the fallen strands of her dyed hair that looked red under the scarlet light and held it back as you use your other hand to pat her back gently.

This was probably a familiar sight in another's eyes. And by another, you mean Somin.

It had been two months since you and Taehyung had ended things in an abrupt and open-ended note. You and Somin were at Hoseok's that morning as he insisted you and Somin just stayed for the night of the after-party. You remember drinking an endless cup only to black out in a room by yourself, and then to wake up in the midst of the party dialing down. Jolting up from the couch, you struggled to stay steady, fighting through the people in front of you as you ran to the bathroom and immediately embraced yourself for the foul smell of your guts.

But as you began, you didn't stop. And what even came out of your mouth wasn't something you entirely expected because as you had taken a tiring pause, you blinked at the toilet bowl filled with flowers. And you thought it was your imagination, until you reached out to pick a petal up.

White chrysanthemums.

And that's where Somin comes in to see your whole body collapsed against the toilet bowl as you leaned your arm with your cheek against it. And though your eyes were barely open and everything was a drunken and nebulous haze to you, the look on Somin's face as she found you and your flowers had hurt you to the point where ever since then, it was easier to suppress your flowers to save others— your parents and Somin— pain and worry.

If there was anything you knew in your life, it was and will never be your intention to make people worry or have them get hurt. You've felt enough of that to know how it feels.

Once the stranger had finished the last wave of her flowers, you watch quietly and remorsefully at how she had pushed away from the toilet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She was beautiful even with mascara and eyeliner running. She had some glitter on her eyelids and cheeks, and her berry lipstick seemed to smudge all over her lower face, but it was no doubt you probably looked similar to that the first night you threw up your flowers.

"Thanks," she sighs meekly.

You offer her a smile. "Are you okay?"

Scoffing playfully, she glances at you with a smile. "Never been better."

You laugh along as well. "How long?"

The girl with glitter on her face fixes her posture and sits up properly against the tiled wall. "Had it for 2 months," her lips curls. "Getting the surgery tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Shouldn't you be resting for it?"

"Nah. This'll probably be the last time I'm ever going to party depressed. Gotta make the most out of it."

You nod, admiring the girl as you held your knees close to your chest. She seems about your age, maybe a little bit younger, and so far, a little bit wiser for taking the choice to remove her flowers yet make memories of her last depressed partying.

"How about you? What are your flowers?"

To that, you scoff playfully. "White chrysanthemums. Had it for 2 years."

"Shut the fuck up," she looks at you, her stained lips parting in awe. "2 years?"

You give her a slight nod.

"You're insane," blue poppy gapes, giggling loudly. "How the hell do you live like that?"

And for awhile, you've asked yourself that exact same question. The idea of "how" and the "why" stuck in your brain— not to mention your friends and your family asking the same thing constantly. And as always, there's an answer to the question that the universe created for you and it was—

"You just live with it."

[darkestwolfx]

High Strung - Re-Review #36

I almost forgot it was Monday... Today is my only day off, and I’m still playing a little bit of time zone catch up (haha, by that I totally mean a lot), and so this might be a little short.

I love how we get to see a delivery to Thunderbird Five for once, with a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, of course.

“Pilot of high altitude balloon, you need to pull up! Are you reading me?”

Clearly not... That bear is kinda cute, but also a little tacky for a logo - and why is that the logo of someone thrill chasing? You know I was expecting like a shark or something... something less cuddly, let’s put it that way.

“I don’t like the look of that thing.”

See, I was already with you on that Scott!

Also, blue and white stripes? Who are they trying to make it look like they are?

“I can think of only one person who would spend that much on a big balloon just for fun.”

“Francios Lemaire.”

Oh... him again? He was only last in episode 8! Give our headaches a rest please!

“If we had a frequent rescue program, he’d be gold status by now.”

Hmm... the New Zealand Southern Alps. Never actually been there, yet. Based on this episode, I might avoid it, they look cold and dangerous. Anyone who wants to correct my view, feel free. I do need to go to Australia at some point, so I could just extend the whole trip (you know, whenever the world ends up turning again)... although maybe I’ll do it by boat? Terrible idea considering I get sea sick, but more environmentally friendly. Oh well, I have time to toss that up.

We, the fans, have answered you Virgil. We’ve already done it for you.

“Won’t take long for Thunderbird One to reach him.”

“I’m on my way.”

“FAB.

“FAB.”

“R.A.D.”

“R.A.D?”

“That’s my catchphrase, remember?”

Yes, Brains, sorry, but no one remembers that you said it in Series 1. Sorry.

And here’s a lovely picture of Thunderbird One in flight for you all - because we don’t get all that many which I can clearly copy, so here it is!

“Er, Scott, you do see the big mountain you’re heading right towards, don’t you?”

Yeah, little tricky to miss that.

“I need to land Thunderbird One!”

I think that was probably the most untidy landing we have seen from Scott so far... and I thought Alan had some untidy landings in TOS ‘Atlantic Inferno’.

“Don’t do anything stupid down there, Scott.”

“Define stupid!”

Yep, definitely where Alan gets it from.

Oh look everyone! Halloween has come early! This is Scott pretending to be a bat (or maybe a Sugar Bat as they glide better).

Definitely a stupid move in my books though, sorry Scott.

“Someone needs to give this guy some flying lessons.”

Are you offering there, Scott?

Looky at more Behind the Scenes footage! This one has always intrigued me... Don’t really know why either.

“Hey, you can’t leave that there!”

“What are you going to do? Give me a ticket?”

If only we could all get away with parking that easily, Kayo.

I love how she comes rolling in only to find Lemaire looking like a mummy

“That’s the last time he’ll try rollerblading on the deck of his yacht. In a force ten storm...”

Oh my god, that man is an idiot. Who ever thought that was a good ide- oh, sorry, my mistake, his name’s Francois Lemaire. You know, I think I liked him more in TOS as the overly paranoid (and a little unintelligent) fashion designer.

“What have you got, Scott? Pirates? Balloon rustlers?”

“It’s way worse than that, John. It’s a teenager.”

Oh, you can count on Scott. A teenager? Cause of the end of the world right there! I like to imagine that Scott thinks that the worst option because he’s thinking back to himself as a teenager... I bet he was just as desperate to fly.

“Didn’t you do anything crazy like this when you were my age?”

“What? Me? Uh... maybe.”

“Knew it. Peas in a pod, dude.”

Yeah, I knew my assumption was going to prove correct.

“And then I thought ‘hey Brandon’.“

This is going to get tedious fast, is what I thought...

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could hit a mountain?”

“Oh yeah, other than that.”

“We’re right on the edge here!”

“Yeah, we’re on the edge!”

“No, I mean we’re on the edge of the... Never mind.”

“Hey, Brandon here. This is so cool. Me and Scotty are like exactly the same! Thrill junkies man!”

“Yeah, I think the kid’s right, bro. You’re like two peas in a pod!”

“Yeah well this pea wants out of this pod and off of this mountain.”

The brotherly banter is so worth it, let’s all admit. And this is one of my absolute favourite lines. I think it might be the delivery more than the line itself as well.

“Virgil, wait, wait!”

“Huh? What is it, Brains?”

“RAD, Virgil, RAD!”

“Brains, please tell me you didn’t interrupt my launch to say your catchphrase?”

Honestly, the first time I saw this episode, I thought that was exactly what he was doing.

“What? No! That’s R.A.D. I’m talking about this. (MAX, hurry up!) My new prototype; RAD. Rapid All-terrain Descender. This is the perfect opportunity to test it out.”

“That’s great, Brains, but let’s speed it up shall we?”

Yeah, Scott’s waiting to get off that mountain after all!

“Brains gave me something that might help you get down the mountain.”

And then more cross-talk on RAD and R.A.D. which was actually really well written.

“You up for a little mountain climbing, Brandon?”

“Y...Y...Y...”

“Just nod.”

I bet they’re kinda wishing it had been Lemaire now...

“It’s voice activated. All you need to say is ‘deploy’.”

“Deploy.”

“Oh, and remember to step back quickly before it opens up.”

Yeah, that needed to be warned beforehand I think...

“Oh, oh! Scotty, can you do a commentary for my ‘BeExtreme’ followers? And make it cool!”

“Uh, this is Scott Tracy, International Rescue, piloting the RAD. And it’s uh... pretty RAD actually.”

Yep, I think I have definitely heard RAD enough times for one episode now!

Good to see Virgil retrieved Thunderbird One. Scott will be thankful for that at least.

Although he had to go and do something stupid again, didn’t he? You know, I really think Scott wanted to be a bat based on this episode. Really I do.

“You’re promoted to Chief test pilot!”

“What?”

Scott’s face and the fact he walked off said it all, like he totally knew they’d end up seeing Brandon again. Which is of course correct.

“Scott? Scotty! I don’t think he heard me. I’ll just go talk to him!”

“This is nice. We should invite that kid over.”

“That would drive Scott up the wall.”

“Exactly. Hey Brandon, how would you like to ride with me?”

“In Thunderbird Two? Epic!”

I still would love to read more works based on that! It must have been a nightmare for Scott. Virgil really can be a cruel manipulator when he wants to be - definitely the only one who can rival Gordon.

Right, so I know this scene was like four and half minutes in or something like that, but I left discussing it until the end, because there was plenty to comment on and it interrupted the flow of my rescue commentary.

So, there are 3000 channels,

“And nothing to watch”

We all know that feeling Brains

and Kayo and Brains can’t find Lemaire on a single one (for reasons we now know). In the meantime however, they do scroll over a load of reusable footage! Yay!

So the first thing to make it onto channel #whatevernumberKayo’son is;

A scene from TOS episode ‘City of Fire’ which was reused and recoloured in ‘The Imposters’

The opening setting scene (Japan) from TAG episode ‘Runaway’

Potential alien/deep sea footage that Gordon and Alan have both been seen watching in ‘Deep Search’ and ‘Colony’.

The Mars Ship passing through from the TOS episode ‘Day of Disaster’

Ned Cook - a reporter from TOS; the scene is from ‘Terror in New York City’

The launch of the Sun Probe from the TOS episode ‘Sun Probe’

And possibly most importantly, the last (featured below);

A shot of Colonel Tim Casey and Tin-Tin from TOS episode ‘Edge of Impact’

Then they briefly flash back to footage from ‘City of Fire’ (I could rant about the misogyny of that episode, but like I said, I’m tired, so I’ll save it for another time).

You know what, I’m surprised I was awake enough to notice all of that! Yeah, so I am going to catch up on a little bit more sleep, and then tonight I will upload the promised irrelief work. I planned to do it yesterday, but I ended up sleeping... so uh, sorry? Hopefully tonight I will be able to string sentences without having to constantly re-edit my spelling mistakes! If anyone finds any that I’ve missed, just let me know, but for now.

P.S. I know this is scheduled for 6:45, so by the time you all read this, I will be waking up ready to give you said work of fanfiction, but I actually wrote this at 6 in the morning when my internal clock was still, clearly, very out of whack, so hopefully that explains the state of my notes! See you all in a little bit!

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Power's back! I lost power about an hour or two after my last update and the worst of the bushfire passed that day. Since it was just yesterday with no power, I figure I'll upload yesterday's and today's chapters together.

Chapter 33 | Chapter 35 | AO3 link

“By the power vested in me, I declare you all my slaves!”

“Well,” Rena Rouge says as the golden bubble that Malediktator is creating starts to expand above his head to terrifying proportions. “We’re screwed if that pops.”

“What’s the plan, Ladybug?” Honeybee says, unslinging her trompo. “I can –”

“No, no, don’t go charging in.” Ladybug throws a hand out to stop Honeybee in her tracks. “This’d be so much easier with Chat Noir and Carapace. I’ll have to…Lucky Charm!” A massive machine gun falls into her hands, and Rena Rouge and Honeybee’s eyes bulge.

“Well, that’s an effective Lucky Charm!” Honeybee splutters. Ladybug just snorts, detaches the laser pointer, then tosses the gun away.

“No way I’d use something like that,” she scoffs.

“Are you sure?” Rena Rouge and Honeybee say in unison, eyeing the discarded gun longingly.

“Yep,” Ladybug says. “Honeybee just needs to take the sting out of Malediktator. Rena, we’ll need you on standby to make sure that Honeybee’s secret identity is safe and that no one suspects who she is.”

Honeybee grins and flips her trompo around her fingers with the string. “Venom!” she says once she’s holding the trompo, and it starts to throb like a beating heart.

“You know, part of me wants to be annoyed that all I ever get to do is hang back and trick people,” Rena Rouge says. “Then I remember how fun it is to mess with them when they don’t know who I am. And how screwed this team would be without me.”

“Just keep telling yourself that, hon,” Honeybee tuts.

“We all know what we’re doing?” Ladybug says before they can start arguing. Rena Rouge and Honeybee nod. “Alright. Let’s go!”

While Rena Rouge ducks away to hide and Honeybee starts to edge around, Ladybug aims the laser pointer at the rooftop with Malediktator and his guards. Just as predicted, Chat Noir lets out a mew at the sight and starts to chase after the laser, and Ladybug can’t help but grin as she guides him around to knock over all the guards like bowling pins.

“What?” Malediktator gasps. Honeybee takes this as her cue to swing out with her pulsating trompo outstretched and jab it into his chest. He lets out a choked cry and freezes in place like a statue, allowing Honeybee to grab the sash and throw it to Ladybug to tear it in half. Ladybug captures and purifies the akuma, then throws the laser into the air.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

The healing ladybugs deposit everyone back on the ground, and then Malediktator melts away to reveal André Bourgeois once everything’s fixed. Chat Noir and Carapace blink and shake their heads as Malediktator’s brainwashing fades away.

“Dude,” Carapace groans. “What are we doing here?”

“Missing the amazing Ladybug and Honeybee saving the city,” Ladybug grins and holds her fist out to Honeybee, whose eyes light up.

“Pound it!” she cries with Ladybug.

“I really can’t be Queen Bee again, huh?” Chloé emerges from a nearby alleyway with a wistful look on her face as she takes in the sight of Honeybee. For a moment, Ladybug has no clue what’s going on, until she looks around for the missing Rena Rouge and then remembers her instructions to her teammate.

“Sorry, Chloé,” she says, keenly aware of André and Audrey Bourgeois watching from nearby. “But Paris knows your secret identity. I can’t allow you to be Queen Bee again for the safety of you and your family.”

‘Chloé’s’ mouth droops. “I understand, Ladybug. And…I’m sorry about the mess I caused.”

Honeybee shifts on the spot at her illusion self’s words. Ladybug smiles and says, “Apology accepted, Chloé. Thank you for being brave enough to own up to your mistakes.”

“Want me to take her back to the school?” ‘Rena Rouge’ leaps down to land next to ‘Chloé’, in a mimicry of the same trick that had been pulled with the illusion Marinette earlier. “I didn’t have to use my power, so I’m not gonna time out.”

“That’d be awesome, Rena,” Ladybug says. “Thanks. Chat and I will stay here and brief with Honeybee.”

‘Rena Rouge’ scoops ‘Chloé’ up and bounds away, while André and Audrey start to bicker – or, to be more accurate, Audrey starts to tear into André while he cowers.

“Thanks for trusting me to help, Ladybug,” Honeybee says once Carapace has also leapt away. “Here, I’ll duck into this alleyway and take the Miraculous off –”

“No need,” Ladybug says. “You passed the test…Chloé.” She says Chloé’s name in a whisper that only Honeybee and Chat Noir can hear.

“The what?” Honeybee’ eyes bulge, while Chat Noir blinks and turns to look at where ‘Rena Rouge’ had disappeared with ‘Chloé’. After a moment, his face clears at the realisation.

“We test all our newbies to see if they’ll give it back when we ask,” he says. “And I’m guessing milady tested you more to make sure we could trust you with a Miraculous again.”

“Welcome to the team, Honeybee,” Ladybug smiles. “But Chat and I are responsible for you, so if you blow this second chance –”

“I won’t! I won’t!” Honeybee practically leaps ten feet in the air. “Thank you, Ladybug, thank you! See you next time!”

“Huh,” Chat Noir comments as Honeybee jumps away. “She doesn’t make a half-bad hero.”

“Pollen will be a good influence,” Ladybug says, then grimaces when her earrings beep. “Well, that’s my cue. I gotta recharge and hand out the Dragon. I think that’ll be our team for the time being, until Master Fu’s comfortable with handing out more zodiacs than just the Dragon. I know we’ve already pushed it, giving out all the working Wu Xing ones.”

“Good idea,” Chat Noir says. “Message me who gets it tonight, okay?”

“Of course, kitty,” Ladybug says. “Oh, can you drop by Chloé’s and get an email address from her so we can add her to the group chat?”

Chat Noir bows and says, “It would be my purrleasure, milady.” He takes off before Ladybug can scold him, leaving her to sigh loudly and duck into the nearest alleyway to detransform and refuel Tikki. Then she’s once again swinging through Paris, towards the small Tsurugi mansion with a sleek red car parked in front of it; although she’s never actually been to Kagami’s house, she certainly knows where it is, at least, thanks to Adrien. But she doesn’t know which room is Kagami’s, so she’s forced to take a quick peek inside each window until she finally stumbles across Kagami sitting at a desk, clearly deep in her homework. Kagami looks up at the tap on her window, and her eyes widen when she catches sight of the superhero dangling outside.

“Ladybug? Is everything alright?” Kagami says after rushing over to open the window. Ladybug slips inside and stares around at the room, marvelling at how it’s just so…Kagami. The walls and massive king bed are a deep red colour, the carpet is soft and black, the desk is made of rich, dark wood, and there are several decorations such as a Japanese flag on one wall, a few fencing trophies on a dark wooden shelf, and some photos pinned to the wall above her desk. A closer look reveals to Ladybug that these photos are of her – well, Marinette – and Adrien, cut from photoshoots and magazine articles, such as the article that had covered Marinette’s hat at the Agreste fashion show.

Oh. Wow. Kagami must really care about them…

“I know it’s not ideal, only having staged photos of them,” Kagami says as she draws level with Ladybug. “But they’re my friends, so I figure the circumstances behind the photos don’t matter.”

“Maybe you could take photos with them?” Ladybug says.

“I suppose…”

“From what I hear, you’re a very direct person. Why hesitate now?”

“It’s just…” Kagami sighs and looks away. “I’ve never had friends before. I don’t know what’s appropriate and when it’s appropriate. If I make a wrong move, how do I know I won’t lose them? Unlike fencing, I don’t get to come back for a rematch. And unlike fencing…I don’t know how to navigate this.”

“Oh.” Ladybug reaches out to rest a hand on Kagami’s arm. “Can I tell you something? I’m inexperienced when it comes to friends as well.”

“Impossible. You’re Ladybug. You’re sweet and charismatic. Me? I’m just an awkward autistic girl who only knows how to stab people.”

“You’re autistic?” Ladybug gasps. “So am I!”

“What?” Kagami’s head whips around to stare at Ladybug. “You – but you’re –”

“An awkward mess outside the mask,” Ladybug says and squeezes Kagami’s arm. “I mix my words up all the time. I melt down and flip out whenever I’m really stressed or losing control of the situation. I have to plan out what I’m going to say before I talk to people about important stuff, otherwise I turn into a blabbering mess. I have to bounce or fidget or do anything to stim because I can’t sit still. I’m clumsy. I’m obsessed with fas – uh, my special interests. I can never seem to be where I should be because I just can’t manage myself, even before I became Ladybug.”

“Oh.” Kagami tilts her head and ever so slowly reaches out to pat Ladybug on the shoulder stiffly. “You get it. I have to script my conversations as well. And…well, I don’t have meltdowns and I’m very organised, but…mostly because Mother would be extremely disappointed in me.”

“Yeah. Masking,” Ladybug says. “It’s kind of ironic, you know. I’m wearing a mask as Ladybug, but it’s the one time when I’m not masking at all. Like, I have to be the saviour of Paris, the role model for everyone…but I can also just be freely autistic because, well, who can tell me to stop fidgeting? And my main responsibility is fighting the akumas, which I don’t need to plan for in advance or work into a schedule.”

“Wow…” Kagami’s soft smile is genuine. “I can’t believe it. You really get it.”

“Yeah,” Ladybug says. “So, trust me when I say that asking your friends for photos isn’t a wrong move. And if you do mess up, you have to trust that they’ll call you out for it. That’s what friends do. But they won’t leave you because of a mistake.”

“Thank you, Ladybug,” Kagami says. “Just…thank you.” Then she squares her shoulders and slips back into business mode and says, “But why are you here? I doubt that you visited me just to give me advice.”

“You’re right,” Ladybug says. She swipes open her yo-yo and pulls out a little box. Kagami’s eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “We were hoping that you’d join the team and fight alongside us.”

“M-Me? I mean, it’s an honour to be offered the chance to fight alongside you, but why me?”

“Because you’re strong and terrifying with a sword,” Ladybug says. “But you also crave freedom, just like Chat. You’re kind and loyal and helpful and always do your best to do the right thing, even if you struggle to properly interact with people. And those are the qualities that make a hero. So, Kagami Tsurugi, if you’re willing, here is the Miraculous of the Dragon, which will grant you the power over the elements of the storm. You will use it for the greater good, to protect Paris and have your teammates’ backs.”

For a moment, Kagami just stares at the box. But before Ladybug can start to panic, Kagami nods and takes it and snaps it open, then gasps and shuts her eyes against the brilliant red light that pours out of it.

“Greetings, young lady, and good day to you!” says the little red dragon kwami that materialises in front of Kagami. “Fear not! I am Longg, the Dragon kwami.”

“You’re a what?” Kagami says after a moment.

“A kwa-mi,” Longg says. “Allow me to tell you about the many feats a magic being like myself will help you accomplish once the magic words have been spoken!”

“She’s more of a direct learner, Longg,” Ladybug says as Kagami slips on the beaded choker.

“Ah,” Longg says. “A woman of action. Very well, then. All you must say is, “Longg, bring the storm” and you will –”

“Longg, bring the storm!” Kagami says, and Longg is sucked into the choker in a blur as red light envelops her. Kagami’s superhero outfit turns out to be a tight, scaly, dark red suit with black shoulders and upper arms, both of them made of black scaly armour with golden trim spiralling along and down to her elbow-length red gloves with golden trim. Two gold-accented black dragons coil around her legs, with their tails fading into boots and their heads meeting and intertwining around her stomach, and a gold and red dragon’s tail flows out of the back of her suit. A circle divided into swirling thirds sits on her chest, with a little elemental symbol in each third, and she has short red dragon horns with gold and black accents sticking out of her windswept black hair, and a red mask with gold and black lightning bolts extending from the bottom. Her eyes, previously light brown, have turned to dark brown with gold sclerae.

Okay. Bad Ladybug. Stop staring. Stop it.

“I love the armour,” Ladybug says, and Kagami runs a hand over the scales on her shoulder.

“I know that the suits are magic, but I always feel safer when I’ve at least got a little armour on,” Kagami says.

“What should I call you?”

“Hmm…Ryuuko. My name is Ryuuko.”

“Well, Ryuuko…” Ladybug crosses over to the open window and smiles back at Ryuuko. “Let’s go for a little evening stroll.”

.

[10:46 pm] Honeybee has joined miraculass.

catitude: welcome to hell

catitude: i mean

catitude: nice work today thanks for saving us

[10:47 pm] Ryuuko has joined miraculass.

Ryuuko: Hello

ladyBIrd: hey

catitude: sup

Honeybee: ew who named this chat

mess w turt u get hurt: rena

what does the fox say: hey

what does the fox say: it’s a great name

ladyBIrd: …it grows on you

Honeybee: KNFLKDSMNZBXCKCLKSDHFOA;SLD

Honeybee: LADYBUG HI

what does the fox say: pfft

what does the fox say: gtfo with your keysmashing i was here first

Honeybee: fuck off

what does the fox say: wow rude

[10:49 pm] what does the fox say set Honeybee’s name to honeybeetch.

honeybeetch: omg

honeybeetch: i hate you

ladyBIrd: I think it’s kind of funny

honeybeetch: asdfghjkl of course

honeybeetch: it’s perfect

what does the fox say: lol desperate

honeybeetch: the only reason i’m not gonna fuckin deck you

honeybeetch: is bc i’ll lose my miraculous

honeybeetch: that and pollen will give me the look of disapproval

catitude: don’t you mean

mess w turt u get hurt: nO DONT

catitude: beecause?

Ryuuko: I’d like to leave, thanks

honeybeetch: where are u

honeybeetch: i’ve got venom ready n everything

catitude: :)

ladyBIrd: Chat, you’re grounded

catitude: :(

honeybeetch: wait

honeybeetch: laDYBUG IS BI

honeybeetch: AJSDHLDSKJ

what does the fox say: don’t even think about it

what does the fox say: i was here first and i have dibs

honeybeetch: actually fite me

honeybeetch: you think your illusions will do shit when i sting you

ladyBIrd: I’ve got a boyfriend, so

ladyBIrd: and there’s a girl above both of you on my list

what does the fox say: :(

honeybeetch: :(

catitude: :)

mess w turt u get hurt: istg i don’t understand why chat reacts half the time

catitude: 0:)

[10:53 pm] catitude has set Ryuuko’s name to airhead

airhead: Are you asking for death?

airhead: Because I have a sword and I’m intimately familiar with how to wield it

honeybeetch: omg i hate everyone here

honeybeetch: except lb of course

[10:56 pm] direct messages

Chat Noir: so

Chat Noir: ryuuko?

Ladybug: Kagami

Chat Noir: omg yes i love

Chat Noir: but i gotta ask

Chat Noir: why give Chloe another chance?

Chat Noir: not that i want her to fail

Ladybug: she’s proven she really does want to change

Ladybug: she even apologised to Marinette and everything

Ladybug: granted, it was an illusion by Rena

Ladybug: but she still passed the test

Chat Noir: i mean

Chat Noir: i’m glad you gave her this chance

Chat Noir: i guess i just don’t want her to let us down again

Chat Noir: especially with the miraculous

Ladybug: the Bee will be perfect for her

Ladybug: I know it

Chat Noir: true

Chat Noir: bee works best with someone with potential for growth

Chat Noir: sting for the greater good and remain warm without burning out of control and all that

Ladybug: ok, how do you remember that?

Ladybug: that was months ago

Chat Noir: i have a near-purrfect memory

Ladybug: does your autocorrect recognise all your puns?

Chat Noir: actually

Chat Noir: yeah

Chat Noir: don’t @ me

Ladybug: :)

Chat Noir: :(

Chat Noir: wait does that mean rena knows honeybee

Ladybug: it was unavoidable

Ladybug: I needed her Mirage

Chat Noir: oof

Chat Noir: thank god she doesn’t know our ids

Ladybug: haha, yeah

Ladybug: I’m gonna DM Honeybee before I sleep

Ladybug: night, kitty <3

Chat Noir: night bugaboo <3

[11:02 pm] direct messages

Ladybug: Hi, Honeybee

Honeybee: ASKJFDSL;KGLDKFG

Honeybee: HI LADYBUG

Ladybug: you don’t have to freak out

Ladybug: it’s just me

Honeybee: yeah but

Honeybee: i’m in a gc

Honeybee: with LADYBUG

Honeybee: and i’m a SUPERHERO

Honeybee: pollen’s trying to take my phone help

Ladybug: lol

Honeybee: so like

Honeybee: not that i’m ungrateful

Honeybee: but why me

Honeybee: why not marinette

Honeybee: she was right there

Honeybee: and she didn’t mess up and out herself to paris

Ladybug: for one, she told me she’s got a pretty busy schedule

Ladybug: for another

Ladybug: I guess I just remembered our conversation about your mother

Ladybug: and I knew there was potential there if I just teased it out

Ladybug: because you really have been trying, even if you slip up

Honeybee: i just

Honeybee: it’s easier to push ppl away

Honeybee: i have to tell my mother to fuck off tmrw and

Honeybee: i’m kinda losing my shit rn so

Ladybug: you can do it, Chloe

Ladybug: she’s a toxic influence

Ladybug: and she’s stunting your potential for growth

Honeybee: ik ik

Honeybee: pollen said it’s like pruning the weeds to let the flowers bloom?

Ladybug: yep

Ladybug: kwamis are pretty wise

Ladybug: Pollen will help and support you

Ladybug: and you’ve got the group chat

Ladybug: you’re not alone, Chloe

Honeybee: <3

Ladybug: <3

Honeybee: ASLKFHSDLK

[antiadvil]

tumblr.com/liked/by/danielhowell

1k, PG13

Dan scrolls through tumblr, liking things. Oh, did I mention that he just got married?

A/N: for the pff bingo fest. this prompt is author's choice (wedding, also, dan is a little shit who fucks with the hearts and souls of phannies) because I am lazy and only fills one prompt because I am unimaginative. thanks to @flymetomanchester for betaing and here’s my card

ao3

It was a week after their wedding that Dan decided to say something about it to the internet. Nothing huge, of course. He had never wanted, and still didn’t want, information about his relationship with Phil to be something easily available to anyone with an internet connection. Of course, it was too late for that now. All he could do was play damage control.

If things were different, he sometimes thought, everything would be different. If they had never hidden their relationship, maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal now that they were finally being more open about it. If they were a straight couple, maybe it wouldn't ever have been such a big deal. But they hadn't, and they weren't, and now Dan was scrolling through his tumblr tag, dealing with the consequences of being born queer and the decisions he had made while trying to preserve a fragile career, his relationship with his family, and his relationship with someone who he had desperately hoped would someday be a part of his family.

There wasn't anything very interesting. He and Phil had been trying to stay vaguely active on social media while not posting anything too interesting so no one would notice anything was out of place, but weirdly, the tag was still full of speculation.

“guys they're up to something. SOMETHING.”

“Does anyone else think it's weird that they're posting so regularly? What are you trying to hide lmfao @AmazingPhil @danielhowell”

“... something weird is going on. getting vibes. will update later.”

He clicked on the last post, curious about the update. The first few pages of the blog were asks, probably about said update- Dan skipped them until he found the original post and then scrolled backwards, skimming the posts in the order they were originally posted in.

Blah, blah, blah, a lot of “evidence” that mostly came down to the fact that he and Phil had been posting “too much” with photos and videos that could have been taken at any time, which was kind of flimsy evidence, really, but then again, it was true, wasn’t it? He and Phil were up to something, just not something they planned to share in its entirety with their audience.

He scrolled further up, into the wall of asks. “just say what you think they’re doing already,” read the first one. The response startled him so much he dropped his coffee mug.

It shattered on the kitchen floor beneath him.

“Everything all right in there?” Phil called from the other room.

“Yeah, fine,” Dan called back, trying to keep his voice even.

He had gone on tumblr hoping to make a statement. He hadn’t actually expected to find anything to make a statement on.

“getting married probably,” said the blogger’s response.

Never in a million years did Dan think someone would actually guess. His fandom always thought something was going to happen. That was what happened when large groups of people tried to tune into whatever weird biorhythms determined his upload schedule. They were right sometimes, but when they were, it was more by chance than anything else. Even when they were right that something was about to happen, itt was pretty rare that they were right about what it was.

He and Phil usually found their fans’ conspiracy theories funny. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to laugh at this post.

This was his life now, he reminded himself. There was nothing he could do about it short of putting his and Phil’s phones in a blender and disconnecting their wifi router. All he could do now was play damage control.

Sometimes, though, he didn't want to play damage control.

His cursor hovered over the like button.

He thought about it.

This click would change nothing. And everything. He could play it off as a joke. Most people would probably assume it was without Dan having to say a thing. He wouldn't be explicitly confirming anything- there wouldn't be any news articles. Dan was a celebrity, but not so much of a celebrity that him liking a tumblr post would be news. Probably.

But the person who posted this post would know in seconds. The rest of his fandom would know in hours.

He clicked. The like button- on this theme, just a simple piece of text saying “like”- now said “liked.” Dan counted to thirty before refreshing the page.

A new post had appeared: a reblog of the original with a screenshot of dan’s like and the caption “OMG WTF AFDHSJKAFG YOU CAN’T JUST FUCKING DO THAT!!”

Dan laughed, one of the longest and hardest laughs he’d laughed in a long time. He laughed so hard that he heard Phil calling from the living room again, but couldn’t reply. He heard Phil’s footsteps, but couldn’t be bothered to close his laptop.

“Seriously, what is so funny? And why is your coffee mug-” Phil bent over Dan’s shoulder to look at his laptop. He groaned. “Dan!”

“Sorry,” Dan wheezed, “But-” He dissolved back into laughter.

Phil refreshed the page and giggled.

“It’s kind of funny,” Dan gasped. “You have to admit.”

“Kind of,” Phil admitted. Dan let himself get lost in the upward curve of his boyfriend’s lips- no, husband’s, he kept reminding himself, Phil was his husband now.

Phil noticed Dan staring and his smile grew. “How about you leave the internet alone for a bit?”

Dan opened his mouth to protest.

“No. You’ve wreaked enough havoc for today.” Phil shut the lid of Dan’s laptop and pulled it away.

“Wait,” Dan whined, “I was going to unlike it.”

Phil’s eyes widened as he moved backwards, clutching Dan’s laptop to his chest. “You’re a monster.”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Gimme.”

“No.”

“Please? It’ll be hilarious.”

“No.”

“You’re the worst boyfriend ever.”

Phil’s face lit up. “Husband.”

Dan’s heart fluttered. “You’re the worst husband ever. Now give me my laptop back so I can ruin a teenage girl’s day by unliking her tumblr post about our relationship.”

“With great power comes great responsibility, and you are not being very responsible right now.”

Dan sank back into his chair, pouting. “You’re mean.”

Phil put Dan’s laptop back on the table. “Love you too,” he said, dropping a kiss on Dan’s head. “Now, what were you thinking for dinner?”

“Human suffering,” Dan said.

“Takeaway it is,” Phil said. “Anything else?”

“Don’t forget the dips.”

“I would never.”

Phil cleaned up Dan’s broken coffee mug. By the time their takeaway arrived half an hour later, Dan had completely forgotten about tumblr.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch.44

Happy Tuesday, Everyone! I am pleased to announce that this chapter has been beta’d by @parisconstantine​ this time... I know, right?  I’m working on getting back ahead of things, since March and April pretty much ate my buffer chapters.

I promised some of you that Simon not having Miys help him with social interactions would have some pretty hilarious repercussions, and hopefully I do not disappoint with this chapter.  Also, we get to see a bit more of our favorite grumpy-puss, Alistair Worthington (created by @baelpenrose​), and a little more of his personality beyond ‘total grouch’.

My new Administrator was thrown almost immediately into the thick of things.  Simon had taken my suggestion to try interacting with people sans Miys proof ‘reading’ his conversation; this alone led to social gaffes by the minute, to the horror of the man newly forced to work in close proximity with us.  Tyche, for her part, wasted no time in making it clear that she was no longer my acting Administrator, first by uploading my entire calendar to the former archivist’s data set and spending about an hour showing him how to set up the alerts necessary to ensure he was constantly one step ahead. New items and requests were directed to him, even while he was working to get on top of existing commitments. To top it all off, he had come on board in the midst of the Food Festival planning, which included coordinating with Sebastian Reed for the grand opening of his pub.

Alistair Worthington rose to the occasion like he had been born to do it.

“Why have humans never quite evolved the understanding that the word ‘no’ is a complete sentence,” he grumbled rhetorically. It had been only ten days since his replacement took over in the Archives, and only nine since he started devoting nearly fifteen hours a day to getting caught up.

“What is it this time?” I asked, more out of curiosity than any concern that he had declined something without even asking my opinion.  Worst case, I could override his decline.

He simply glared at me. “One of the vendors for the Food Festival is adamant on being positioned between the halal and kosher vendors.”  I gestured for him to go on, since that alone was not cause for alarm. “Miss Reid – “

“Sophia,” I interrupted. “We are going to be working entirely too closely together, so I prefer you call me Sophia.”

“Sophia,” he conceded with a chagrined look. “They want to set up a bacon buffet.”

I choked on the tea I had been taking a sip of, sputtering inelegantly all over the floor – fortunately missing Alistair. “That’s pretty brave.” I gasped, trying to convince my lungs that the tea was gone.

He shook his head and held out a cloth to wipe my face with. “Survived an assassination attempt, only to be felled by a cup of ginger tea.  Your epitaph will be set the standard for decades to come.” As I fought to glare at him and smother a laugh, he continued. “I understand that all meat products on the ship are artificially constructed from protein banks, and therefore everything will be kosher, halal, and vegetarian, but that is quite beside the point. It’s rude.”

“I completely agree,” I conceded, holding my hands up in a peaceful gesture. “The entire point of the festival is to bring everyone together with respect and unity, which putting a pork palace between those specific vendors is most certainly not doing.  My question is who even approved a ‘bacon buffet’ in the current climate?  I love bacon as much as the next pork-eater, but come on!” I threw my hands up dramatically. “With all the terrorists who were just executed, it’s just tacky!”

Rather than answer immediately, he dug through the vendor’s application. With a groan, he flicked the file over to me.  I echoed his sentiment when I saw the approver. “That explains a lot,” I sighed before looking up at the ceiling. “Simon, did you really approve a bacon buffet for the festival?”

The response was nearly immediate. “Yeeesssss?” he answered uncertainly. “It sounded like a delicious idea.  Lots of people are really passionate about bacon, and did you see some of the flavors?  Cayenne and tupelo honey, Sophia! It sounds amazing!”

My assistant looked like Simon had just asked him to eat waste materials.  I just ground my teeth and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Simon. Why are we having this festival?”

“Ship’s unity,” he responded suspiciously.

“And why do we need that?”

“Because some people tried to sabotage the ship and kill everyone on board?”

“Correct. And what were those people?”

“Terrorists.”

“True, but not what I’m looking for. Arantxa Bidarte was…” I trailed off, praying he would figure out what I was getting at.

“A high-ranking – ohhhhhhhhhh. Shit.”

“Yep, a high-ranking shit. In the Baconist movement.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. I wasn’t thinking clearly on the optics.” He really did sound contrite.  I knew he was trying, so I wasn’t going to be hard on him.

“It’s okay,” I sighed. “I know you didn’t mean to do something like that.  And we can fix this.  How about you tell him you reconsidered his offer, and due to recent events we decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to have an entire alcove dedicated to just bacon. However, there are several vendors who will be serving items that can include bacon, and we will happily put him in touch with all of them to let them feature some of his wares in their dishes, including advertising.” Alistair hummed and nodded in approval at that compromise.  “And Simon? Before you send that, reach out to Sebastian with the entire list of this guy’s bacon flavors.  Let him have first dibs.  From what I’ve seen of the food he’ll be serving, he has a great mind for flavors and will probably have a dozen ideas before he even finishes reading the list.”

“You just want that sundried tomato and basil bacon in a Bloody Mary,” he accused playfully.

“You know it, because you do too,” I retorted before sticking out my tongue.

His voice softened. “Thank you for catching that, Sophia. Seriously.  And for helping me figure out how to fix it.”

I waved my hand absent-mindedly. “It’s okay, Simon. You’re trying to figure out people again, and mistakes happen.  If no one helps you figure out how to, we can’t exactly expect you to fix them, right?”

“I’ll reach out to everyone now,” he confirmed before going silent.

When I looked at Alistair, he had a very approving expression on his face. Before I could say anything, it was gone, replaced with a smirk. “Bacon, in a Bloody Mary?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

“I’m pretty sure it’s something distinctly American,” I explained. “But don’t knock it until you try it.  Perfect amount of salt, I’m telling you.”

He shuddered, but I had spent enough time around him at this point to know it was faked. “The entire drink is the most American thing I have ever seen, to be honest.  Imagine, someone from the former United Kingdom naming a drink after the Usurper. Not likely, I am telling you.”

“Considered the second most common garnish is pickled okra, I can’t exactly argue with you on that,” I laughed. “I don’t think there is a vegetable more American than okra.”

“Corn,” he pointed out, distracted as he went through the items on his data pad. Since he started working with me, he had gone from hardly using it to keeping it displayed the majority of the day. Eventually, things would calm down, but until then it was a frequent thing to see him forget to dismiss it and just have it projecting at his side, following his gestures. “Councillors Kalloe and Hodenson have sent a notification that the gravity will be increasing – again? – and to be prepared for any inquiries. Wait, what is this ‘again’ nonsense?” Consternation and mild alarm warred on his face.

I nodded firmly. “Yes, ‘again’. The gravity on Kepler 422b is estimated to be half again the gravity of Earth. While it isn’t anything that will hurt anyone on the ship, the effects of such a sudden gravity change are enough to be worrisome if done to anyone suddenly. Fatigue, blood pressure slowing down, slight dizziness, muscle soreness, etc. The decision was made right before the incident on Level One to slowly increase the gravity on the Ark by five percent of Earth gravity at a time.  Once we are certain that nobody is experiencing any long-term effects, or the effects have been addressed, we schedule the next increase.”  I shrugged, since we had no reports of any effects from the first increase.  As a matter of fact, no one even noticed.

“And you felt there was no need to inform anyone on the ship?”

“Oh, we informed everyone,” I assured him, though I felt a bit guilty. “We sent a ship-wide notification, including what to do if anyone noticed any of a long list of side-effects.  And we will be sending another notification before we do the next one.”

“I would remember if I received such a notification,” was the stiff response.

“Yeah, about that,” I told him sheepishly. “We dropped out of FTL about three hours after it was sent.  In our defense,” I held up my hands to fend of any protests, “that was entirely beyond our control, and the entire Council was too preoccupied to cancel the process or send a reminder. By the time it was all said and done, the change had been in effect for over three months.  I’m not saying it was okay, at all.  The goal was never to be sneaky. To make sure it doesn’t happen again, we are making a point to send the next one a week after the Food Festival, with full audio cast directly into our implants.” I tapped my left temple for emphasis. “And the process has to be triggered, rather than being set with a timed automation.”

“So, God forbid some other crisis occurs, the change will just have to wait?” he asked reproachfully.

“Absolutely.”

That seemed to be acceptable, as he quickly changed the topic. “About what happened with Councillor Simon. That was quite kind of you, Miss – Sophia.”

I could feel my face heating up as I shook my head, hair flying. “Simon has had a very unique experience, and he needs someone in his corner.  The fact is, he was brought on this ship before anyone else, and there is a reason he was chosen, just like everyone else.  He has value, but he and everyone else seems to have forgotten that.  I refuse to do the same and just forget that, too. And until he believes in himself… well, I’ll just have to believe in him enough for everyone on this ship.”

With that, I stood to leave for the evening. It was Wednesday, and the first ‘family dinner’ in a long time.  I needed this night, and nothing was going to stand in my way.  Exchanging a nod with my Administrator, I padded out of my office.  I hadn’t gone far when I heard a quiet comment, not intended for me to hear.

“With faith like that, I truly believe the mountain came to Mohammed,” Alistair stated softly as I walked away.

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[fresh-outta-jams]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered - Part 9

Namjoon x Reader Author: Admin Mo Summary: You’re in college when your soulmate tattoo arrives, an address. Sending a letter couldn’t hurt, right? Note: Super sorry it’s been so long since my last update. Morgan and Morgan and I just got settled back into school with our new classes and everything, so I should have more time now that I have everything figured out. Warnings: Some swearing, soulmate fluff Word Count: 1.8k

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, Epilogue

Your new film classes were kicking your ass. Most of them were three hours long, so one of your greatest challenges in them was not falling asleep at eight in the morning or late at night. Your...distractions the previous semester had prevented you from signing up for your classes on time and therefore, you had the worst schedule on the face of the planet. You woke up too early, got home too late, and barely had time for naps in the middle. However, you did have a window for talking to Namjoon, which was about all you could ask for.

Somehow, it seemed like he got hotter every single day. You more than dreamed about him now; his face floated around your thoughts during your classes, his voice filtered through your earbuds as you walked around the snowy campus. It definitely soothed your pain at least a little bit, that and getting to see your face every time you unlocked your phone or got a call from him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled breathed the life back into the very drained half of your shared soul.

“Baby.” Namjoon waved his hand to snag your attention. Your mind had been wandering again. “You okay? You seem sort of distracted today.”

“I’m fine, Joon. Exhausted, but fine. What were you saying?”

“I asked you how our Sims are doing.”

You burst out laughing. When you had talked to him a few weeks prior, you’d made the mistake of mentioning the Sims game you’d been plugging away at, creating a perfect little life with your soulmate. Luckily for you, there were several talented Simmers who had uploaded their own Namjoons to the Gallery, so you could just download one that looked pretty close to the real thing. (Even closer with a dimple mod.)

“Joon is a scientist now.”

“A scientist? I thought he was an actor.”

“Well, he was, but I want to try to contact the aliens.”

“Ah. Understood. How are our kids?”

“They’re doing great. Added some new rooms on the house, got them a bigger TV, and I’m thinking about putting in a pool, but considering that they’re vampires, maybe that’s not the best idea…”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head at the absurdity of the little world you had crafted. “Yeah, maybe not, then.”

“Oh!” You blurted, sitting up straighter as you remembered what had been on your mind. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

Immediately, his eyes widened and his face reddened. Whatever this was, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good. But then again, he couldn’t remember doing anything that would upset you. “U-um, jagi-”

“Uh-uh, don’t you ‘um, jagi’ me. You have no right. You have NO RIGHT...to go around looking this fine, what the hell, Namjoon. Your hair? So fine. Your face? SO FINE. How am I supposed to keep the girls off of you at this rate?”

“Jeez, you scared me. I thought something was wrong.”

“Also, don’t think I don’t see you lurking on my Twitter, you creep.” You laughed, causing his face to flush an even deeper red. “I have like twenty followers total, so someone with the username ‘rm_fan_94’ is going to raise some eyebrows.”

“Is it my fault you ReTweet all of the BTS Tweets gushing about how handsome you think I am? Sometimes a guy needs a little confidence boost from his beautiful girlfriend.”

That was new. You couldn’t remember him ever using THAT word before…

“Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no, you just, uh, caught me off-guard is all.” You coughed, cheeks burning probably the brightest red they’d ever glowed before. “Can I get that one more time?”

“What, ‘girlfriend’?” Namjoon smirked softly, his dimples prominent. “Well, that is what you are, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You exhaled a sigh, something warm settling over your heart. “God, I really am, aren’t I?

“Shit, I never asked, did I? That’s a thing in the states, right? I’m supposed to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“Well, I mean sometimes that’s how it goes, but not always.”

“(Y/N),” he suddenly got very mock-serious, “will you be my girlfriend?”

“Let me think about it.” You laughed. He pretended to wait with bated breath as you ‘thought about’ your answer to his very important world-changing question. “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Awesome.” He smiled. Namjoon was about to say something else before he was interrupted by someone walking into his and Tae’s room.

“Namjoon-ah, breakfast.” You recognized Hoseok’s voice as he entered, his face lighting up when he caught sight of what their fearless leader was doing. “(Y/N)!!”

“Hi Hobi!” You waved excitedly, hyped to finally meet him after watching him in videos for so long. “Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too!”

“I’ll be out in a sec, alright?” Namjoon told him in Korean. Hoseok nodded and then waved one last time before leaving the way he came. He looked back at you and sighed, torn. Obviously, they were all really busy working on their next comeback, even though they were still coming back down to earth after the Christmas/New Year’s Eve rush. You knew time was tight, but you always ached when it was time to say goodbye. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You blew him a kiss, and then he was gone, leaving you waiting for the next time you would get to see his beautiful face.

***

“Dear Namjoon,

I read your book. Cover to cover. Well, I guess because it was in digital format, from the top of the Doc to the bottom of it. And let me just say I am blown away. I’ve known you’re a good writer. You write the best letters ever, and also you literally write lyrics for a living, so obviously you’re good, but this was so much different than any of your songs in the best possible way. There’s so much character, so many heartfelt moments, but it’s also funny and lighthearted and then it tugs at your heartstrings. I ended up crying three times while I read it.

That said, there were a few phrasing things I noticed, and a few typos, but I think you’re way more fluent than you realize. I usually end up with waaaaay more mistakes in my NaNo books than you have in yours. I marked the ones I caught in pink and left some comments.

These new classes are killing me. My film analysis is boring and we have a pretty heavy workload. Not to mention it’s like three hours long. Draining isn’t the word. However, it’s not all bad. I still go to the K-Pop club and learn new things about you and the guys from all of my K-Pop-loving friends. One of them got me a Koya sleep mask for Christmas! They all know I’m super whipped for you (but they don’t know why, no worries!).

Did I tell you I have Moonchild set to my wake up alarm? Ironic, I know, but it’s my favorite song on Mono. You probably know that. I probably told you that. I don’t remember. I’ve kind of had a lot on my mind recently. I’m seriously counting down the days to spring break. My brain hurts so much, but hearing your voice and talking to you and looking at your face makes it a little bit better.

I love you so much,

-(Y/N)”

*** Namjoon had a plan. Granted, it wasn’t a very solid plan; he didn’t have all of the details worked out, nor anything scheduled, nor had he even asked permission yet. But, it was a plan no less.

Over the past few weeks, in your ongoing letter correspondence back and forth to each other, Namjoon had been collecting details, thinking through logistics, and going around to the camera crew and asking them some questions figuring that they of all people would have the answers to them. And for the most part, they did, and they were all very friendly and nice to talk to. Based on the conversations he’d had with them, it seemed like Part 1 of his plan would work out just fine. That left him to figure out parts 2 and 3.

Part 2, he figured, would be the second-easiest thing to accomplish. Actually, maybe the easiest, considering that Part 1 had required some digging and research. Whereas with Part 2, it was only the idea of it that was scaring him. In theory, actually pulling through with it would be easy.

So, once he had scraped together as much courage as he could manage, he went to the office of none other than Hitman Bang and knocked on the door.

***

“Dear (Y/N),

I’m sorry to hear your classes are so rough. I wish I could make it better. Thinking about you in pain pulls at my heartstrings in more ways than one. I really, really wish I could be there to comfort you somehow, but even then, I don’t think I would know how to fix the problem aside from supporting you and encouraging you to keep going because you’re almost there. Just a little longer and it’ll all be worth it.

As for my book...I’m super, super glad you liked it. Part of me was really afraid it maybe wasn’t as good as I hoped it was. We all have a tendency to look down on our own work, I guess, and sometimes we’re blind to our own mistakes. Thank you for helping out with mine, though. It means so, so much to me that you took the time out of your busy schedule to look over it and give me feedback. I’m also very sorry I made you cry. Thinking about that hurts me inside too.

I’m glad you’re having fun in your K-Pop club and making new friends and learning things! Just know that if you ever want to know ANYTHING, I would be more than happy to tell you anything you want to know. Also, I’m really sorry you have to keep me a secret, at least for know. Just know it won’t be a secret forever. Someday, you won’t have to hide who I am. I just hope that ‘someday’ comes sooner than it seems to be coming.

You definitely did not tell me Moonchild is your wake up alarm. God, you don’t know how happy that makes me. I’m glad you like it so much. Again, I’m so sorry this semester has been rough on you so far. And I’m sorry I couldn’t kiss you on New Year’s Eve. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you on Christmas morning. I’m sorry for a lot of things. I’m sorry we’re so far away from each other. I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to get to you. I promise I will soon, though. As soon as I possibly can. Every minute I’m without you burns, and I know you feel it too.

I love you to the moon and back,

-Namjoon”

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