#This is actually inspired by some comments made several days ago but I just now thought of how to be funny with it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mittensmorgul · 3 years

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For anyone interested in long-term residence in the supernatural fandom, please have some observations I’ve made over the decade I’ve been here. Take it or leave it as you will, but I’ve found all of this info useful over the years I’ve been here.

I wrote this yesterday, and it achieved its mission of identifying the sort of folks who would react negatively to it (i.e. a lot of block lists have been updated), so now that it’s been edited for content, it’s going under a cut (because that is how we do things on tumblr in general, unless we have a deliberate purpose for annoying readers with excessively long text posts) for the sake of people who actually do care about the fandom and its history. If that’s not you or your reason for being here, then keep on keeping on with your own thing, I guess. For those who are interested, there’s a lot of fandom resources some of us have been building for years that you might enjoy knowing about.

First off, I’ve been informed by a few friends who’ve read through this for coherency’s sake that it sort of reads like a *shakes cane from porch* fandom grandma complaint, but honestly... I earned this rocking chair and goshdangit imma rock now. So apologies for any “back in my day” vibes or faint aroma of tiger balm this post might give off. Then again, it’s loosely based on a similar post from 2012 so like... time is a flat circle anyway I guess.

1. There is no such thing as “tumblr famous,” unless you’re referring to the hilarious and delightful fic of the same name (please go read it, you will cackle). Posting Hot Takes for imaginary Clout™ on this site is kind of pointless in the long run. Sure you can post solely for the sake of stirring shit and getting notes, but the majority of the folks who do aren’t long term residents of the fandom. They’re just tourists moving through our little beach town for spring break. If you’re actually intent on moving to this corner of the fandom for an extended stay, please bother to really feel out the permanent residents and understand the culture and general mood of the neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to whatever’s going on across town where all the bars and beach parities are happening, and those loud, drunken revelers are, again, gonna disappear back to their regular lives or on to the next party eventually. That doesn’t mean the fandom is dying, it’s just evolving.

(funny how I had several comments implying that I’m just trying to keep the fandom from evolving with this post, because I sincerely do want the fandom to continue on for years to come, and that is impossible without evolution. We can evolve without self-immolating, though. mostly i included point 1 for an excuse to push ancient but hilarious fanfic on you.)

2. Once you post something here, it’s been unleashed to the fandom winds. You never know where it will end up, or who will comment on it or add to it. Remember that time Misha tweeted the link to the Epic Cockles Love Story post? No? It was wild. That was 2012. They all know we’re here, and how to find us if they want to. Please don’t take it to their doorsteps.

Obviously if someone is being a dick on your posts, please feel free to block them, but the whole entire point of this site is to engage people with your posts. Being big mad that someone reblogged your post with comments or supporting evidence, or happy headcanons or “HECK THIS IS GREAT BECAUSE (insert personal story about their experience or whatever else made them Feel Things about your post)” is frankly ridiculous. If your goal is to avoid any sort of engagement with your posts, then maybe try instagram instead. From what I understand, there is a SPN fandom presence there, and nobody can tarnish your original posts with unwanted commentary. But the ability to reblog with additional commentary is a FEATURE of tumblr that builds community through conversation. Otherwise we’re all just talking to ourselves in a vacuum, and that’s what actually kills fandoms.

(and for the folks who just want to blog how they want to blog and don’t want people to engage on their posts at all, please feel free to block anyone you want, as well... nobody wants to step on your toes, but most of us also don’t want to walk on eggshells wondering if this post is one of the “do not add comments for any reason” sorts of posts, either. This is a huge fandom and most people can’t even begin to keep track of every creator and their url du jour, and what their personal rules might be regarding interaction with their content. Including a “please don’t add comments” note at the bottom of your posts-- and not in your tags that won’t even show up on reblogs, but in the actual body of the post-- would sincerely help avoid any awkward or unwanted interactions, too. At the end of the day, you are in control of your own fandom experience and the block button exists.

For the record, I block zero fandom blogs (which is why I posted this, I wanted it to reach a wide scope... refer to the opening paragraphs as to why).

3. Since this post was partly inspired by a tag I left on that post going around about how “previous tags” mean fuckall on this site (which you can read here), just a reminder that if you like someone’s tags or feel they add value to the post, part of the Peer Review structure of tumblr encourages you to PASTE THEM INTO A REBLOG. If you do this, then at least credit the person who actually wrote the tags! Don’t just copy someone else’s tags into your tags on your reblog of the post without credit either. They were not YOUR tags. (I have had this happen to tag rambles I wrote and someone else got credited with them on a subsequent reblog and it is FRUSTRATING). Just... don’t even bother to write “previous tags” because WHAT PREVIOUS TAGS?! Nobody is gonna bother to chase back the chain of reblogs trying to find where the mystery tags came from, friendos. That way lies madness.

(for the record, since some folks seemed to focus on this point solely, writing “previous tags” on a post isn’t inherently a BAD thing, but for anyone who actually is here for more than one-off shitposting, then it’s sort of a pointless thing in the long run. This wasn’t intended to suggest people who ARE here for one-off shitposting are bad or “doing it wrong,” but for people who might actually want to preserve that hilarious joke or insightful comment. People delete posts and entire blogs all the time around here. Links break. I get that the upcoming generation just shrugs at that and moves on with their lives, but heck... you don’t have to accept that all entertainment is disposable if you don’t want to. There’s a bizarre sort of nihilism plaguing us all about the impermanence of pretty much everything that feels like something we should be fighting against rather than buying into wholesale, even in our escapist entertainment. I’m just exhausted by the complete loss of joy in community.

*shouts from the peanut gallery* IT AIN’T THAT DEEP, JUST GET SOME FRESH AIR AND LOOK AT A PUPPY OR SOMETHING

Yes... yes it isn’t really that deep, but bigger picture in the state of reality we’re all entirely disillusioned with, are we supposed to just give up on everything, including the things we cling to because they bring us a tiny spark of hope that we’re not all just trapped in this dystopian nightmare and things might actually be worth living for?

*peanut gallery clinging to burnt husks of peanuts in a barren peanut field* but this is how we have chosen to cope

Okay... you do you... I feel bad for you but if that’s the case then this post is NOT FOR YOU. AND THAT’S FINE. I honestly do not care if you don’t care! I mean, I’m sorry anyone has to live in a world that drives them to that mindset, but I understand. This post is for anyone who might look at their lives and their choices and think “no wait, I unironically enjoy this and want more from the experience of that enjoyment than I’m currently feeling.” Everyone else can continue with their lives as usual.)

4. CONTENT THEFT IS NEVER OKAY. PERIOD. Things like “credit to the artist” or tagging gifs or images you found on pinterest as “not mine” isn’t actually credit. If you can’t source an image or gif set, DO NOT POST IT! We don’t REPOST (i.e. save an image and then create a new post with it as if it was our own creation). We REBLOG (click the little square arrows and reblog from the actual creator). That goes for gif sets, fanvids, screencaps, meta, fic... everything.

(hopefully everyone here already understands this one, but I felt compelled to include some “these are stupidly obvious” reminders anyway, since this is ostensibly some sort of advice column. This is the equivalent of the warning label on your toaster reminding you not to use it in the bath. Like... duh...)

5. Close kin of item 4 is SOURCE YOUR SHIT.

(for 100% disclosure purposes, I specifically discussed this one in this specific way because of an influx of anon ask messages I received in the wake of the finale. Literally the inciting incident for creating this entire post was what I can only assume was a joking ask about a comment Misha made at a con years ago. Someone actually bothered to take the time to type out those sentences to me. I have no idea what they were expecting in reply, or what could possibly motivate them to send this comment about something so entirely random from, again, several years ago. Just a joke? No idea, but whatever... it got me thinking that there might actually be people who are new to the fandom who MIGHT actually care about the fandom history, and maybe they just don’t know where to go for that info, or how to even begin searching through 16 years of history for things they might actually find enjoyment in, rather than just hauling random out of context garbage out on main and pointing and laughing about it now. People are actually allowed to care about things. It’s not cringeworthy to actually care about things, and you are not alone in actually caring, and there’s this whole big room over here full of people who are thrilled to share in that with you. This post is intended FOR THOSE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY, so if that is not you, please just continue walking by.)

Yes, I know lots of y’all are new around here right now, but dredging up stuff from years ago that fandom has completely debunked and presenting it as TRU FAX again is just exhausting. We’re not trying to be party poopers, but seriously, we have seen it all and are mostly done with extinguishing bags of flaming dog poop on our front porches for the umpteenth year in a row. I’ve seen a lot of posts that have the same tone as “I saw Goody Proctor dancing with the devil” or “I heard kylo ren has an eight pack” and just... the information is there for anyone who cares enough to find it.

This goes double for “why is nobody talking about this thing I just discovered while watching the show for the first time?!” And, oh hon, we have talked it all into the ground over the last fifteen years. We’re happy you’re discovering it again, but I promise we talked about it plenty when the episodes originally aired. We have such a rich meta history that lots of us have worked really hard to preserve. I encourage you to seek it out, if nothing else than as historical artifacts. The way we have discussed the show has been a 16-year evolution. People have written literal doctoral dissertations on this show. Your shitposts are fun! We love reliving our own experience through fresh eyes, and seeing your wonder at experiencing it all again for the first time! But y’all didn’t invent this fandom in the last six months, either.

Meta Sources and Minerals provided by our friendly neighborhood fandom archivist, @lets-steal-an-archive

Academic books and articles about SPN

A collection of Meta Essays going back to s1 and organized by topic (all of this has happened before, all of it will happen again)

SPN Heavy Meta Archive (s1-3)

Mel’s Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-12)

Oranges8hands Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-15, with many similar entries to Mel’s... though ymmv on viewpoint in a lot of these too)

Anyone remember Fandom Wank? Not the concept but the actual LJ... No? Okay have a link to SPN topics that ended up there. Through 2013. We have seen so much... including several fandom containment breaches.

for all your art sourcing needs, please see @theroadsofararchive, the repository for so much fandom art.

need to find a gif of something? canonspngifs is a vast repository of gifsets of the entire series. If the gif you want to use in your post happens to be the first gif in the gifset, in the tumblr gif finder thingy just paste the permalink to that post from canonspngifs (which is easily searchable by episode, character, location, situation, quotes, and sometimes even color and clothing items the actors are wearing... it’s really well organized, especially for tumblr >.>) and the first gif will be automatically linked with credit to the gif creator attached. It makes life easy that way. It’s also convenient when trying to remember something specific but can’t remember what episode it’s from. I’ve used the site to jog my memory before going to the superwiki armed with more specific search results to find episode quotes and references. Or sometimes I just scroll through all the nice gifs for fun, too.

Need a screencap of something and know exactly which episode it’s from? Try Home of the Nutty. You might not find the exact screencap you’re looking for, but they have a complete set of caps of every episode, and it’s an incredibly useful resource for quick reference checks and the like. Just give pages a chance to fully load before clicking on the next one. The site is easily overloaded, but it’s still free to use (and again, with credit... Pretty much every screencap on my entire blog is from HotN unless otherwise credited).

As you can see, this is a fandom built on preserving our history. You absolutely are not required to engage with any of this if that’s not of interest to you, but I can only assume that there are people who would be interested in it if only they knew it existed and how to find it. Well, now they do.

6. A few more notes on tags, and how they work on tumblr. The first 20 tags on your ORIGINAL posts are searchable sitewide, so if you want to be able to find something again, tag that thing first before going on general tag rambles. The only place tags on reblogs are searchable is on your own blog. So you don’t have to put 50 tags trying to get a post seen if it’s a reblog. You’re just spitting into the wind at that point. If you have a filing system for finding things again, then by all means add those tags (again, in the first 20, so they’re searchable), but you don’t need to tag a reblog “destiel” and “deancas” and “dean” and “cas” and “dean x cas” or whatever. Pick one for your personal blog’s filing system, that’s all you need.

(this was only added because tagging and searching on this site is so very broken... I get that a lot of folks don’t care about ever searching their own blogs again for anything, so this one only really applies if you do often find yourself trying to find old posts. If not, then it’s not really relevant. It took me years to work out a decent tagging system, and at the beginning of my time here I never thought I’d end up camping out here for a decade and falling this deep into the fandom, and I regretted my lack of consistent tags only years later when I realized I actually wanted to be able to go back and find specific old posts again. So... for anyone who wants to err on the side of caution, working out a sensible tagging system really helps if you’re here for the long term. I personally tag content by episode, because some of my other general tags are so large as to be practically useless as a search term. But whatever system you choose to file stuff on your own blog, it really only has to make sense to you. And again, if this is pointless advice for someone who has no intention of settling here for the long term. Please feel free to ignore it. I just wish someone had explained it this way to me ten years ago and saved me the hassle of retroactively tagging something like 30k posts... especially now that using the mass tag replacer is the fastest way to get your entire blog deleted... oops? so yeah, don’t use the mass tag replacer either >.>)

7. Tags on Tumblr DO NOT WORK LIKE TAGS ON TWITTER. If you @ someone in the body of the post, it will show up in their notifications (if they’re the sort of person who even checks their notifications... not all of us do. For the record, I generally don’t...), but putting actor or ship names in the tags on a tumblr post does absolutely nothing. It’s not the same as tagging the actor’s twitter account in a tweet. Nobody’s getting notifications about you tagging a post about Jensen here as “Jensen Ackles.” There is a difference. Please learn it. (and don’t take headcanons and ESPECIALLY RPF or otherwise explicit art or fic from tumblr to twitter and tag the actors in it. That’s just... not okay.)

(I have seen the pearl clutchers getting all in a huff about the mere existence of RPF or even explicit content of fictional characters if it doesn’t meet their purity standards, but tagging those things allows people who don’t want to see it to actively avoid that content here. Nobody has a right to tell people their fictional content shouldn’t exist at all, or that creators of that fictional content somehow deserve harassment or threats for having dared to create such “immoral” content, won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children... and no... you do not do that here. Don’t be the problematic behavior you wish to ban from the world. Learn to use tags to protect yourself from, as i have attempted to emphasize here, fictional content you are personally upset by. That’s a you problem, not a problem for the creators of potentially upsetting content that they tag appropriately for.)

8. General formatting stuff: If you’re writing long text posts, visually break them up so people aren’t faced with one long wall of text. The enter key is your friend. Also, if you put long text posts under a Read More break and send people to your blog to finish reading, please ensure that your blog is actually visually accessible (tiny text, or light grey text on a dark grey background, or a visually busy background might be aesthetically pleasing to you but nobody can actually read it. Loads of folks won’t even try. Which is great if you don’t actually care whether people are able to appreciate your content or not, but something to at least consider if you *do* actively want to encourage engagement with your work. Confirm how your blog looks on both mobile and desktop and make sure it’s actually functional in both, too).

And since I mentioned that most of my experience on fandom tumblr has been in the SPN fandom, here’s a bit of a reminder for folks who are new around here. With the reminder that I have been here more than a decade and still feel like a newbie myself sometimes...

This is an OLD FANDOM. There are many, many people who have been at this longer than some of you have been alive. The average age for creators in this fandom is older than you think (I think of my friends in their 30′s as young’ins okay? okay). With that understood, you are responsible for the content you consume and are exposed to. Curate your experience. Ship and let ship. YKINMKATOK. Don’t deliberately expose yourself to content you find upsetting for whatever reason. Tags and warnings are your friends, not targets for you to attack in some sort of purity war. People will ship things you do not like (or in specific ways you do not like), will say things you do not agree with, and will find their happiness in things you abhor. That is not your concern. Find what you do like, and support and engage with it, and ignore (or block, or unfollow) the rest. Tumblr has a feature that lets you blacklist tags so the content you’re trying to avoid won’t appear on your dash.

Remember the paradox of tolerance.

It is not your job in fandom to police how other people enjoy the fandom. It’s not *my* job to police how *you* enjoy the fandom, UNLESS your enjoyment is in actively harming other real human beings in the fandom. If you don’t like their take on the character or the show or the plotlines or their ships or anything else, you don’t need to engage with their posts at all! The necessary corollary to this is that clarifying misunderstandings or correcting factual misinformation is not “policing.”

(this is where the peanut gallery reminds me it ain’t that deep, and I plead with them to put down the social media and find just one (1) thing to actually believe in in this godforsaken life, find something other than disdain and cynicism and spite to live for. If those things motivate you to find a larger cause for yourself, then great, use them to your advantage, but use them to find something that makes you a better person or brings you a modicum of joy and connection to your fellow human beings despite living in a dystopian hellscape of a world)

I have seen a lot of posts lately that are founded on the sort of authority that comes with “I watched through tumblr for a few months and then watched the last three episodes of the series” and as such are just... missing the larger context of the entire show, and are unfounded entirely in canon. I 100% appreciate the new enthusiasm for the fandom that we’ve been living in here for years, and it’s wonderful to see new people enjoying the thing we love. Your headcanons are valid, you are valid, but recognize that your headcanons aren’t canon. All of us finale denialists have accepted this in some measure, so we feel you. We truly, truly feel you. But regarding actual canon, we have a resource for that: the Superwiki. Learn it, live it, love it, as Metatron would say.

(which you could discover he said in 10.17 Inside Man, thanks to the superwiki! accept no substitutes!)

(and again, there have been people who have been involved in fandom for years who haven’t engaged with canon in years, either! You can play in this universe however you choose, BUT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT CANON AT ALL, WHICH I AM AGAIN POINTEDLY SAYING MIGHT NOT BE YOU, READER, AND I’M NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE WRONG FOR NOT WANTING TO ACTUALLY ENGAGE WITH CANON, but if you DO want to engage with canon, please have some useful resources. Why do people feel personally attacked by being presented a list of helpful resources? Absolutely baffling.)

(also: words have definitions. “Canon” is a specific thing, meaning in this case “the finished media product that aired on television.” Anything beyond those limits is secondary canon (think: john’s journal, which is not canon but canon adjacent at best...), word of god (i.e stuff said by the writers and showrunners), or headcanon (which includes actor commentary-- they may have helped create the show with their acting choices and whatever, but they are not in control of the story overall). If there’s something you dislike about actual canon, you can reject it and supplement it with your own theories or preferred outcomes-- that’s basically what fanfic is-- but that doesn’t make your theories canon (much to all our dismay, that’s just not how any of this works. This is not to invalidate how anyone engages with the show or the fandom, just trying to clarify what seems to have been a source of unintentional misunderstandings. Your theories do not have to be “canon” to be legitimate interpretations.)

***I am setting this section apart, and did make a separate post of just this following information, because this is where we go from being relatively chill about different parts of fandom choosing to interact in different ways and you do you and blog however you want, to “hey can everybody please understand that the way you are interacting with this specific material might be harmful for specific legal reasons, and stating that you do not care about the consequences of your actions does actively make you the asshole here...” Okay, now that we have that understood:

The spnscripthunt collective has been steadily acquiring new scripts (which are posted in full on the superwiki for everyone to enjoy, for free). The language around how some folks are talking about these scripts is... concerning. For very real legal reasons, actually, and not because we’re feeling precious about the collection and don’t wike it when meanies use them in shitposts.

-First off, these scripts are not “leaks.” They are all verified and legally purchased (or gifted, in some cases, but still acquired entirely above board. we didn’t whack anyone over the head in a back alley for these scripts, or swipe them out of someone’s trailer on set).

(in case anyone was unaware, these scripts are the copywritten protected property of Warner Brothers. So yes, how we use them and share them with the fandom could have legal repercussions. We present them as a collected resource of fandom history which SHOULD fall under Fair Use doctrine, but this is untested legal water. Insinuating that the scripts are somehow not entirely legally obtained, or that posting them for public access involved less than 100% transparent and entirely legal transactions is incredibly concerning.

Once again for the peanut gallery, if you don’t care about any of that and are just having a good time with it, at least be mindful of the work and expense a large group of people have gone through to acquire and present the content you’re all too eager to exploit for cheap thrills. Some of us do actually care and are not exactly comfortable with the fact that others don’t seem to care about burning it all to the ground. We can’t force you to listen or behave as we’d hope you might, but at least be aware of the potential consequences of your actions. All we’re asking is for you to not be the douchebag who sets the whole neighborhood on fire with your illegal fireworks display. Is that too much to ask for? more on that in a second, first... a psa)

-If you see a script for sale and are unsure if it’s legit (or believe it might already be freely available in our collection), please feel free to ask us for advice. Our goal is to make as much of our fandom history available to the entire fandom, and we absolutely do not want anyone shelling out money for stuff you can already find for free.

(seriously, we’ve seen a bunch of resellers cropping up selling printed versions of the scripts we bought and uploaded for everyone to enjoy free of charge, or scripts that are otherwise of dubious origin. We’ve been at this for years now and know what’s actually out there. We don’t want anyone to fall for a scam if we can help it)

-Also, the usual reminder that the scripts we acquire ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE FINAL SHOOTING DRAFTS. In fact, the majority of scripts in our collection are NOT. Changes are made daily to scripts, even during filming. Comparing a Production Draft (white pages, effectively the first “final draft” of what usually becomes a series of drafts before filming wraps) to a much later revision (say... green or goldenrod revisions, several of which we DO have in our collection for comparison) and how those earlier drafts often differ wildly from the aired version versus how similar a much later green draft is to the aired version, for example, can teach you a lot about the television writing process. The link above to the superwiki scripts page has a nice little explainer about how this process works.

Differences between our posted scripts (many of which are white drafts, aka FIRST complete drafts, which will likely go through multiple rounds of revisions before filming even begins) and the aired version of the show are not all “acting choices” or a director or editor just cutting whole scenes on a whim. It’s insulting to everyone involved in production to suggest that’s the case.

(and yeah, fine... whatever, make any sort of posts you like regarding how those changes came about, but at the very least understand that it’s not actually the truth about how any of this works. Don’t care that that’s not the truth and want to make the posts anyway because shitposting is fun and that’s the extent of your sense of humor? FINE! You’re entitled to do that! But at least you DO know the truth now, and hopefully so do the people who engage with your posts. Deliberate ignorance isn’t cute, smooth lions notwithstanding)

There’s probably a whole other post to be made on fandom tagging etiquette, but again I don’t really use the tags enough to know what’s going on with that whole situation. I’ve also probably left a lot of stuff out, so please feel free to add things I’ve overlooked.

Thanks also to @trisscar368 and @thayerkerbasy for help compiling this, too. They were kind enough to escort me through the park to feed these pigeons. Now I need to take them out for ice cream. :’D

So I guess welcome to the neighborhood. Make yourself at home, but like... try not to trash the place while you’re here. Some of us live here by choice, lol.

#this blue hellsite (affectionate)#fandom problems #kinda wish i'd made this post six months ago but here we are i guess lol #long post #now edited for the people who are actually personally invested in the fandom #thanks for participating in this little experiment and I hope this version is actually informative to those who are interested #meaning there's a lot more links to stuff and explainers and whatnot...#and one last reminder that for folks just swinging through for laughs absolutely none of this applies to you #if you are legit interested in fandom history and preservation as we move to the post-canon world then hopefully this is useful to you

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inastateofmind · 3 years

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one day / rafe cameron

a.n. YAY for my first fic!!! please be nice because i really do not know what i’m doing. hopefully it’s okay though. feedback is greatly appreciated. let me know what yall want to see next or if i’ve left out any warnings or anything like that!

pairing: non canon rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: y/n tutors sarah and is pining after rafe, little does she know, rafe is pining after her too. song fic inspired by one day by tate mcrae! i do not own any lyrics used. lyrics are italicized.

word count: 2440

warnings: unrequited love induced angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex if you squint, jealousy, kelce being kelce

“She stares at her ceiling once again with a hundred thoughts,

‘Maybe he knows who I am, probably not.’”

Y/N laid in her room quietly, Olivia Rodrigo’s “enough for you” playing faintly in the background while she stared at the ceiling above her. School had just started two weeks ago and her feelings for Kook King Rafe Cameron had only intensified since then. Working for the school’s student services, she had been assigned to tutor Sarah, which left Y/N seeing Rafe more often than her heart could physically handle. The two of them hadn’t talked much, only sharing a few passing comments to each other while she confided in his home with Sarah. The reality of their relationship was that the older Cameron sibling probably hardly knew her name, however that did not stop her from harboring feelings for him from afar for almost two years.

“She walks down the hall with her head down low, scared to meet his eyes

Even when she hears his voice she's swarmed with butterflies”

The halls of the Kook Academy were crowded with girls in short skirts and crop tops and boys in polos and khakis when the bell rang for lunch. Y/N stopped by her locker to switch out her textbooks for the second half of her day, keeping her head low as she weaved in between the crowd. “Dude, I just don’t get it. I basically used Grammarly for the whole thing and I still got a C?” She could make out Kelce’s voice in all the commotion due to the volume of his outburst. A giggle slipped out of her lips as she slipped past him, knowing the teachers in this school know when the students use programs like Kelce’s to write their papers. “Sorry, Y/L/N, is something funny?” The boy stepped towards her, causing her to finally lift her head and meet the eyes of everyone who was around. Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to Rafe’s, and then fallen to the hand that gripped around Kelce’s arm, making him step back from the shy girl in front of him, “Man, leave her alone.” Her eyes met Rafe’s again as he smiled at her, causing butterflies to swarm her insides as she turned and walked away, leaving Rafe victim to Kelce’s teasing of his “crush.”

“It’s impossible to get you off my mind, I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine

I’ve understood that you will never be mine, and that’s fine — I’m just breaking inside”

“You look so hot, Y/N,” Sarah complimented, curling the last piece of her own hair while Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. Sarah had insisted she come to the annual bonfire, and in return had offered to help her get ready. “Rafe is going to die when he sees you tonight.” Y/N thought her heart stopped right then and there. She spun around quickly, staring at Sarah. “What?” Sarah laughed, fluffing her hair as she stood up. “Y/N/N, you can’t hide that from me. I figure out everything.” Y/N sighed and made her way towards the door, opening it for Sarah to lead the way. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s got a thing for you too.”

—

The bonfire was not Y/N’s scene, to say the least. By the time her and Sarah arrived, many people were already wasted. The number of people in the small space was enough to send Y/N into fight or flight mode, but Sarah was quick to pull her into the crowd with a drink and start dancing. Several songs passed before Y/N found Rafe, who already had his eyes on her. She blushed, suddenly feeling very self conscious. Was this crop top too cropped? Has she danced too bad it’s been embarrassing? Is it obvious she doesn’t belong here? She must’ve been lost in her thoughts for some time, because next thing she knew, Rafe’s hands were resting on her hips, bringing her back to earth. “Anyone home?” He joked, tapping her hips with his fingers. She laughed lightly, her nerves flowing through her body. Rafe leaned into her ear, his breath warm against her cold skin, “You look really good.” This small compliment mixed with the alcohol coursing through her veins gave her a new found confidence. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Cameron.” Y/N swore she saw a faint blush on the notorious bad boy’s cheeks, but she would never be too sure, because as quick as their moment started, it ended. “Rafe! Beer pong let’s go!” Topper yelled from behind Rafe, a crowd cheering at the mention of Rafe’s name. The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, “Go,” she smiled, “You can find me later.” Rafe smiled at her before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back.” Y/N watched as Rafe ran into the crowd chanting his name, laughing as he turned around and pretended to have Topper “crown” him as the beer pong king before beginning their game.

—

An hour had passed when Y/N had begin to feel tired of chatting up random people from school. She had consumed a few more drinks while waiting for Rafe to come find her, however he never came. She decided to take things into her own hands and find Rafe herself. Standing from the log surrounding the bonfire, she swayed slightly as she walked around the small space searching for Rafe. She didn’t see him anywhere, so she had assumed he had left on his own accord. That is, until she heard whistling from Topper and Kelce. “Okay Rafey boy!” She turned quickly to see Rafe helping a skinny blonde from their calculus class into his car. Suddenly, her shoes were the most interesting thing at the bonfire. Y/N felt stupid for ever thinking Rafe cared or was attracted to her, and she felt even more stupid for thinking he was really going to come find her. “Hey,” she turned to see Sarah smiling at her sadly. “John B’s here to take us home,” Y/N cut her off, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m going to go back to mine actually.”

“He always walks the crowded halls and is blinded by this light

A girl who keeps her head down low and never shows her eyes”

Rafe spent most of his time at school surrounded by an entourage. However, as of recently, his main focus hasn’t been the popularity or the girls flocking his way, but more so a specific girl: Y/N. He watched her in class while she worked ahead of the teacher, he noticed how she got anxious in the crowded hallways, he loved how she opened up while she hung out with Sarah after school. He had never felt so attached to a girl before, especially one he had hardly talked to. Something about Y/N just kept drawing Rafe in, making him want to be a proper gentleman and get to know her— all the weird little things and the seemingly unimportant things too.

“He tried to talk to her but there’s no easy way

‘Cause every time he raises his voice, she runs away”

“Y/N! Hey, wait up!” Rafe yelled down the hallway, running after the girl as she beelined it to her locker. “Y/N,” She opened her locker, shoving her books into it with a sigh. “What do you want, Rafe?” His eyebrows furrowed at her tone. He didn’t understand. At the bonfire, things had been going so good. Now, he could barely get the girl to glance in his direction. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought at the bonfire…” She cut him off, slamming her locker shut. “Yeah, I thought things at the bonfire were going good too, until you left me there to go off with some girl,” She shrugged, turning and walking away before Rafe could even respond. He ran a hand through his hair out of frustration. The reality of the situation: the girl from the bonfire was truly just a friend who was far too wasted and vulnerable to get home on her own, and Rafe recognized that and offered to take her home. He couldn’t blame Y/N for thinking otherwise though, seeing as he did have quite the reputation. He glanced once more in the direction she walked off into before going to meet the younger Cameron sibling for advice.

“Oh, it’s impossible to get you off my mind

I think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine.

I’ve understood that you will never be mine and that’s fine,

I’m just breaking inside”

Rafe spent the next few afternoons in the comfort of the country club with Kelce and Topper, avoiding his home at all costs until he was sure Y/N was done tutoring Sarah. He wanted nothing more than to go home and steal the girl from his sister so they could talk things out, but he knew that would ultimately make things worse, so he kept his distance. However, the phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” rang true, because Y/N was the only thing on his mind. By Wednesday afternoon, he finally gave in, going straight home from school. Wednesdays for Y/N and Sarah were typically their “relaxation” day before cramming for tests on Thursday, so Rafe expected to walk into the living room to find the two of you curled up on the couch. However, the house was oddly quiet and the driveway empty. He texted Sarah, asking where they were.

“John B’s. Be back by dinner.”

John B’s?

Y/N was at John B’s?

Rafe shook his head, opening Snapchat. He looked at Sarah’s story, a picture of her, Kiara and Y/N on the HMS Pogue. He smiled at how happy she looked. The next picture was one of Sarah in John B’s lap, with Y/N in the background sporting JJ’s hat and seemingly swatting at him while he reached to take it back. Rafe’s heart dropped slightly, staring at this picture a little longer than necessary. Maybe if he would’ve stayed with her at the bonfire, that could’ve been them. Now he had basically walked the girl of his dreams into the arms of JJ Maybank.

‘Maybe it’s better this way,’ He thought.

But maybe he didn’t want better.

“One day, maybe she’ll stay and start to head over his way

And one day, she’ll look into his eyes and instead of breaking, she’ll call him ‘Mine’

One day, he’ll grab her by the waist and force them to meet face to face

One day he’ll look into her eyes and say that ‘You’re my only light’”

His phone ringing at 1 in the morning woke Rafe from his sleep, not even bothering to see who was calling before answering. “It better be important if you’re waking me up,” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Rafe, you’re too sweet sometimes, you know?” Rafe rolled his eyes, staring at the clock. “Topper, why did you call me?” His patience was wearing thin, but he knew Topper wouldn’t have called him without reason at this time of night. “I just wanted to tell you I just passed Y/N walking home by herself, I asked if she wanted me to give her a ride and she said no, but she looked pretty shaken up. I’ve still got an eye on her but I thought you might want to come,” Topper didn’t have to finish, the minute the girl’s name had fallen out of his mouth Rafe was throwing on a sweatshirt and slipping into shoes faster than he ever has before. His mind was running a million miles a minute.

Why was she out this late by herself?

Why didn’t she call someone?

Did something already happen?

Rafe grabbed his keys and sped to Topper’s shared location, slowing down once he saw his jeep ahead of him. “I’ve got her, man. Thanks.” He hung up before pulling his car off onto the side of the road. “Y/N,” Rafe spoke as he got out, loud enough that she could hear it was him and not startle her. She turned quickly, staring at him as he approached her slowly. “I just wanted to go for a walk,” she mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.” Rafe nodded. “I’m not mad at you, but it’s late,” he spoke gently. He could see on her face she was upset and he didn’t want to make it worse. Y/N was looking everywhere but at him. She was nervous, embarrassed, everything in between. “Hey,” Rafe whispered, placing his hands on her waist like he did at the bonfire. Her eyes met his and he could read her like an open book. He saw the nerves. He saw the sadness. “Let’s get you home.”

The car ride back to the Cameron household was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Rafe kept one hand on the wheel and one locked in Y/N’s, glancing over at her every few minutes to make sure she was doing okay. Back at the house, he provided her clothes to change into while he grabbed some drinks for them. Y/N sat on his bed, preparing herself for what she was about to do. It was the reason for the walk, the reason for the silence in the car. Honestly, this could be an awful time to do it, but there was no turning back now. “Okay, so I’ve got chips, cookies, water, Pepsi, mountain dew,” “Rafe.” Y/N cut him off, staring at him as she sat criss crossed on his bed. He sat everything down and stared at her, encouraging her to continue. “This could be a bad time to tell you, but I like you. I went on that walk because I needed to get you out of my head but then you showed up so clearly it didn’t work and honestly I’ve liked you for a while, and you don’t have to like me back, oh no you’re laughing,” She cut herself off at the sight of Rafe chuckling and moving towards her. “Why are you laughing?” Y/N whispered as he got close enough that he could feel his breath on her skin. “Because,” Rafe smiled, “I like you too.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #obx #rafe x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #obx imagine #obx fic #outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you

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frombeyondtheblackhole · 3 years

Text

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 8.1

Over the course of the next couple of days Scar helped George and Skeppy get settled in. He introduced them to the other Boatem People. There was Pearl, who lived in the upside down boat house, Impulse, who Skeppy thought looked a lot like a buffer version of George, and Mumbo, who had an impressive mustache and lived in an RV pulling a tiny house.

Scar helped George build a mushroom house in the space between Pearl and Impulse's houses, while Skeppy very quickly got involved in helping Pearl prank everyone on the server by tipping their cows (and every other animal for that matter) upside down. She had to convince Skeppy not to tip anyone's named pets though.

The Boatem hole was opened up to the void. Now that Skeppy could get a good look at it, it kind of terrified him. The never ending darkness. George tried to push Skeppy in, which led to Skeppy chasing George around with a diamond sword for a good ten minutes. Scar fell in several times. He seemed fine, though that could be debatable. Falling in the void had to have some kind of consequences, didn’t it?

Scar got a new, bigger, better hat. Skeppy tried stealing it, trading it back and forth with George as Scar chased them around Boatem begging for them to slow down. Pearl even showed up and joined in the hat trading, but then she made them give it back. There was something under her chipper mannerisms that neither of them wanted to cross. She was nice, but Tubbo was nice, he had nukes, Foolish was nice, he controlled lightning, Puffy was nice, she killed Ant. In their experience, nice meant dangerous.

Grian got bored just sitting around all day and was soon back to his usual pranks. He summoned a giant tree golem with Pearl’s help that tried to eat Mumbo’s van till Mumbo talked to her and calmed her down. His peace, love and plants thing really did come in handy sometimes. Mambo found out that her name was Treesa. Now she just sat watching over Mumbo’s house and humming to herself with the sound of rustling leaves and groaning wood. Sometimes Mumbo could be seen sitting on her shoulder talking to her as she listened, her eye’s closed and her branches swaying in the breeze as she soaked in the sun.

Impulse opened up a shop called I-Soar selling elytra and rockets. Skeppy and George were fascinated by them and when no one was looking they stole some elytra to give them a test run. Skeppy immediately flew into a wall and died, while George fared a little better but died when he tried to land. Everyone's inboxes were buzzing with notifications as a string of death messages appeared in the chat. It didn’t take long for Scar and Impulse to find the two culprits. Skeppy tried to jump off the roof he was standing on and fly away, but he timed it wrong and landed with a splat, his items going everywhere. George started running, he was on the ground and unable to get any air.

Impulse was easily able to catch up to him with his own elytra. When Skeppy returned for his stuff Scar and Impulse admonished them for stealing. Then they gave them some flying lessons, showing them how to use the rockets to give them a boost and how to land without taking damage. They were only fifty percent successful. Though, when they were done they made them return the Elytra. To be honest, Skeppy and George were both quite done with the whole affair and glad to be back on the ground. The novelty had worn off a while ago and Skeppy and George were tired of constantly dying to fall damage.

Grian designed a game of hide and seek that involved the Dragon egg, while George and Skeppy secretly plotted to steal it when no one was looking.

Skeppy also finally decided to build a base for himself. He collected a ton of diamonds. Some of them came from his enderchest (Which he seemed to still be able to access). A bunch of them he got from taking a page from Scar’s book and going door to door, selling the Hermits random junk. He may have also taken all the diamonds from the center of the diamond ore tower outside Cub’s base. They were just sitting there in the open, practically asking to be taken. Using these diamonds Skeppy made a diamond block box house (When he ran out of diamonds he used dirt) in the middle of the town center next to the Boatem pole.

The look on Grian’s face when he saw it was totally worth all that work to get the diamonds. Grian practically begged him to take it down or move it. He even tried bribing him with more diamonds but Skeppy insisted that it was the most beautiful house in existence and he was going to live there forever. He even threatened to move it onto Grian’s front lawn.

This place wasn’t that bad, Skeppy was actually enjoying himself here.

---

Skeppy was nowhere to be found. Bad had searched through their mansion, and at the locations of their various projects, he even looked around the Greater Dream SMP, calling Skeppy’s name the entire time. The Diamond was gone.

This wasn’t the first time Skeppy had gone off on his own for weeks to sulk, only to come back a month later as if nothing happened. But usually he would at least make a big huff about how he was leaving and never coming back and how Bad was a bad friend. This time there was none of that. He had just left.

Bad felt a tightness in his chest as tears pricked at his eyes. Was he really that bad of a friend? What had he even done to make Skeppy run off without even saying anything? They had already made up after the whole egg debacle.

Bad shook his head “No, I’m a good friend. I’m the best friend. He’ll be back any day now, he’s probably just running errands or something,” Bad tried to convince himself... now that he thought about it he didn’t know where Skeppy went off to whenever he ran off.

Without even realizing it Bad found himself standing near the entrance to the spider spawner... the entrance to the Egg’s domain. He stopped. He had been free of the Egg’s influence for several months now. But the egg might know how to find Skeppy. The Egg could find Skeppy. No. Bad tore his eyes away, shaking his head and walking briskly down the path in the other direction. He had tried that before, it hadn’t ended well for him.

Bad felt a pit in his stomach. He genuinely regretted the things he had done while under the Egg’s influence. But the Egg could give him what he wanted. No. it never actually gave him what he really wanted, he knew that now. He knew that then too, he just hadn’t wanted to believe it... He didn’t need the Egg... but... it would be there. As a last resort. If all else failed.

[Notes: This one was inspired by another comment by @the-local-scp, Thanks again. I wasn’t originally planning on writing Bad’s perspective for a while. Skeppy runs off all the time. But then I thought about it and it makes sense that he would notice. He always notices, and this time he has no idea why Skeppy left. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. This is the end of my pre-written stuff. The next one is probably going to be a bit of a long one so it may take a while before it gets posted, or I may break it up into smaller chunks... we’ll see]

#dsmp #dream smp #hermitcraft #dsmp au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #hc x dsmp #hc x dsmp au #hermitcraft dsmp swap au #skeppy #georgenotfound #grian #good times with scar #impulsesv #pearlecentmoon #mumbo jumbo #badboyhalo

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years

Text

Love is in the Lines

Nesta Archeron x Cassian - Tattoo Convention Oneshot

Nesta loses Cassian at a tattoo convention.

Written for Nessian month. @illyrianet

Prompt 1: Tattoo Artist

Prompt 2: We came to the…together, and now you’re lost.

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2319 words

*******

“Cassian, I swear to the mother, when I find you…” Nesta grumbled to herself for the fourth, no it was the fifth, time in the last twenty minutes.

She pushed through the herds of people crowding the aisle, trying her best to scour every booth for her missing boyfriend.

One moment, he had been standing behind her waiting as she scrutinized a certain design, the next, she turned back around, and he had disappeared.

Deciding she wasn’t going to find him in this row, she turned the corner and began walking down the next aisle starting her search over again.

If she was lucky, she would spot his massive frame sticking out above the clusters of people, but so far luck wasn’t on her side because she’d been walking around the convention hall for almost half an hour now searching for him. Nesta passed each booth looking at the artists and the customers, but they were all strangers.

Getting to the end, she took one last scan over the heavily tattooed convention-goers—most having several visible piercings in their ears, noses, and sporadic other places on the face that she thought would be excruciating to pierce—and wondered what the hell she was doing.

Sighing heavily, Nesta turned and started walking down the next aisle.

Two years ago, if someone had told Nesta she would be wandering around a tattoo convention, she would’ve laughed in their face at the absurdity of it.

A year ago, she’d have rolled her eyes and said that even her ink-covered boyfriend who made her realized she didn’t hate all tattoos, wouldn’t have been able to convince her to spend a day surrounded by the buzzing machines and colorfully covered patrons.

Last week, she considered it.

Being with Cassian had made her learn a lot about herself; one of those things being the fact that she found all of his ink incredibly attractive.

There was something about the way the ink stood out on his tanned skin that made it look like it was supposed to be there. She couldn’t even imagine her boyfriend without his tattoos. The one time she tried, she made a mental image of his arms without the swirling geometric designs and his back without the large bat-like wings, not to mention all the other little designs he had strewn across his body suddenly gone—and she was surprised to find herself dismayed at the lack on ink.

One night, when Nesta was idly tracing some of the lines across his chest, she confessed to Cassian that she wanted to get a small tattoo of her own.

At first, he had been shocked. As much as she loved his designs, he knew she still looked at most people’s tattoos with distaste. In her words, “most of the tattoos I see look like someone stumbled into a shop at four in the morning, drunk out of their mind, and picked out the first thing they saw. And the artist just went with it.”

But Nesta listened whenever he talked about his own designs; about how they all meant something to him. How every design held a memory. Every time he looked at them—whether he was intentionally studying them or when he caught a glimpse of one out of the corner of his eye—he would think about why he got it. Each tattoo made him remember a story, or a person, or some sort of inspiration.

They were reminders, self-expressions, and memories.

Even the one he got when he and his brothers were wasted and thought getting matching tattoos—done by each other, of course—was an amazing idea. He always pointed out that particular tattoo whenever Nesta explained her disdain for the “impulsive permanent decisions” saying that even though the design isn’t great, every time he looks at it he laughs and thinks of the great time he has when he’s with his brothers.

So when Nesta told him she wanted to get a tattoo, Cassian was more than surprised. But as soon as his shock wore off, he got the broadest smile on his face and immediately started asking her questions. What did she want? How long had she wanted one? Color or Black and White? Where on her body? Question after question, and Nesta was glad that Cassian had been thrilled.

Smirking, she remembered what he had told her when she asked him if he thought she would look good with a tattoo.

“Good?” She’d never seen him look more ravenous, already picturing what she would look like with ink covering her body. He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “Nes, sweetheart, you are already so gorgeous, but, fuck,” he groaned, “you would look so fucking stunning that I don’t know how I’d ever be able to keep my hands off you.”

Then he made sure to show her just how much he liked the idea of tattoos covering her body, using his tongue to trace potential designs across every inch of her skin.

The next day, Cassian showed Nesta the poster for the tattoo convention happening soon which brought dozens of artists together to showcase their work and allow for people to get tattoos done, and admire the different aesthetics and designs.

When Nesta agreed to go with him, she made it very clear she was just looking for inspiration. It was practical, she reasoned, to go to see all kinds of designs in one place so she could get a sense of what exactly she wanted.

She figured he would be attached to her side, wanting to show her everything and point out his favorites.

The last thing she expected was to lose Cassian in the crowd.

Nesta finished eyeing another row of booths, still no sign of her missing, infuriating, boyfriend.

“C’mon Nesta, he said” she muttered as she walked. “It’ll be fun, he said. You’ll get inspired and I’ll be right there with you, he said.”

Nesta just about turned the corner when a booming laugh caught her attention. Zeroing in on the sound she caught sight of Cassian—well, his hair really. The long, dark, wavy strands were pulled up into a bun on top of his head, making his strong jawline covered in artfully groomed stubble stand out.

Nesta sometimes found it hard to stay mad at Cassian because no matter what she was upset about, he always found a way to make her smile. Even unintentionally. Like right now, part of her wanted to strangle him for vanishing on her and making her scour the convention hall for him, but hearing the sound of his laugh softened her and she allowed herself to smile at him before quickly schooling her features and making her way over to where he was sitting.

Sitting.

He was sitting in a reclining chair while the booth’s tattoo artist leaned over him to draw a new piece of artwork on his skin.

Nesta was going to kill him. Seething, she marched towards him.

He brought her here, he disappeared, and then he went off to get a new tattoo—without her.

Cassian’s eyes lit up as he spotted her. “Nes! Check it out, look who’s here.”

For the first time, Nesta looked at who exactly was inking her boyfriend.

“Az?” She blinked, momentarily losing her frustration. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

Azriel dipped his needle into the ink again and let out a low chuckle. Once he deemed enough ink was added, he gave Nesta a rueful smile. “I assumed this one,” he nodded at Cass who was still grinning at her “would show up today, but I thought I could get a couple of hours of actual clients before he took over my booth. I didn’t expect to see you here, though” Azriel concentrated on tracing another line but raised an eyebrow in her general direction.

“Yeah, well, this one,” she imitated Azriel’s tone and nodded at Cassian, “wanted to show me what one of these conventions was like, but apparently he decided it was better to run off and get another tattoo.”

Setting her bag down, Nesta sunk into the chair beside Cassian and crossed her arms.

“I’ve been wandering around for more than thirty minutes looking for you, asshole”

Az snorted, but didn’t comment, just kept drawing something that Nesta couldn’t quite see.

“Aw babe, don’t be mad,” Cassian leaned over as best he could and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she could turn away. Not that she didn’t want a kiss from him, but she was still upset at his antics. “You were so absorbed looking at that lady’s designs I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Nesta’s anger melted a little at that. They had been walking around for a while when Nesta spotted a particular design she liked. She dragged Cassian over to a booth hosted by a woman whose arms were covered in colorful images and had her hair pulled back in a bright bandanna. She had a handful of binders on the table filled with designs and photos of healed artwork.

It was the minimalistic stack of books that had caught Nesta’s eye from across the aisle. She followed the single line as it swirled around creating the image. She must have been more lost in thought than she realized if Cassian deemed it best not to interrupt her.

“And,” He gave her a wide grin, “I hoped I could find Az and convince him to tattoo me for free.”

Rolling her eyes at Cass’ satisfied look and Az’s long-suffering one, she watched as people passed by the booth. Some looked through the design books, others paused to watch for a moment as Az worked. Turning back to face Cassian, she saw he was already looking at her.

“Fine. I’m still annoyed, though.” She leaned in closer, “What are you getting?”

Now Cassian’s face turned a little nervous. He still looked excited and happy and keen in the way he always looked when he watched her, but now he started to look a little worried, too.

“Before you freak out or get angry, let me explain.”

Nesta’s mind immediately went to worst-case scenarios. What could he be getting that he thought she would be angry? What would Azriel agree to ink that she should be upset about? Was it—

“Great way to start.” Azriel muttered from Cassian’s other side.

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to Nesta just as she stood up and walked around to peer over Azriel’s shoulder.

Az was putting the finishing touches on but she could see exactly what the image was.

It was delicate ‘N’ on the inner edge of his wrist.

Nesta didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything—she just stared at the design now permanently etched into her boyfriend’s skin.

Cassian cleared his throat and Azriel backed away to put his needles down and give them a moment of privacy. As much privacy as they could have in the small booth.

“It’s an N,” Obviously. “For you.” Obviously.

Nesta couldn’t drag her gaze away from the letter. All her anger and frustration faded away. She forgot how irritated she was with him, how upset she had been when she turned around and he was gone. She forgot the instant jolt of panic she felt when she thought she had lost him.

Nesta took in each line and curve of the tattoo and felt such an overwhelming feeling of love for this crazy, impulsive, wonderful man.

“You…” She finally looked up to see him watching her face carefully.

“What do you think?” He waited for her to say something, but after a moment of silence, he started rambling. “Is it too much? Do you like it? You don’t like it. It’s too much. If you don’t like it I can change it. I mean, I can see if Az can change it. I could get it covered up—”

“No!”

Nesta grabbed his worried face in her hands and kissed him fiercely. She tried to pour everything she was feeling into that kiss, and make him know that she did like it, she loved it. She loved him.

“No, don’t cover it up.” She pressed her forehead to his before pulling back and intertwining their fingers, using her grip to lift his arm to get a better view.

“So, you do like it?” A slow smile appeared on his face.

Nodding softly, she told him, “I do.” Nesta swallowed, another rush of emotion hitting her. “You really wanted to get something for me inked onto you? These things last forever you know.” She tried to make a joke, but she was still feeling overwhelmed.

She almost couldn’t believe that he wanted a piece of her, something to remind him of her constantly and forever. It was insane; totally impulsive and unbelievable, but the sweetest most loving gesture anyone had ever done for her.

Cassian used his fingers to tilt her chin up so he could look her in the eye. “Of course I wanted to. Every time I’ll see it, I’ll think of you.”

She kissed him again.

Breaking apart, Nesta slowly moved her finger around the letter, careful not to brush it and hurt him.

“Why here?”

He forced her to meet his stare as he said, “I wanted it over my pulse point because my heart beats for you.”

He kissed her this time and put everything he had into it. She brought one hand around behind his head, the other rested on his chest, and kissed him back with just as much passion.

“That’s so corny” she murmured against his lips

They broke apart, each breathing a bit heavily.

Cassian gave her a cheeky grin and winked.

“You love it. And didn’t you know, sweetheart,” he gave her one more peck on the lips, “we’re gonna last forever, too.”

*****

I know I’ve posted a lot of oneshots recently, but don’t worry, I’m absolutely still working on my longer fics. I’m just taking advantage of the inspiration as it hits me

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading

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intergalacticwanderer · 3 years

Text

(Part one, part two, part three, part four. Fic version of this post, with some minor inspiration from here as well, which can be considered part of the overall background to the fic if desired.)

“I am worried about our friend Kingsley.”

Caleb saw Essek look up from his book at the statement. It was currently just the two of them in the salon of the tower, lighting low for the late hour and the rest of the Nein having already retired. They’d gotten into the habit of late night work while in Aeor, and even with the ancient city far away it was hard to break from certain routines. Essek held his place in the book with his hand, expression curious.

“How so?”

“He is... not himself? It is hard to explain.”

“Then explain it to me,” Essek said, giving him a half smile. “We are not unfamiliar with hard concepts.”

Caleb huffed a laugh. “Ja, that is true.” He tapped a finger on his knee, thinking. “He has been acting strange since the beginning of this visit. He is more... avoidant? And quieter as well.”

“Not words I am use to hearing in regards to him.”

“Ja. He has also been startling a lot, and he is even hesitating with tasks he is usually confident with.” Just this morning Caleb had seen Kingsley almost fumbling when practicing with his swords and whip, and he’d startled like a cat when Caleb had asked if he was alright. Kingsley had stammered out that he was fine, but it was still odd. “There are other things, but those are the clearest. Have you noticed anything?”

Essek paused, thinking, before giving a slow nod. “Yes, now that you mention it he is a bit more on edge, if that is the right term. Do you have an idea about something?”

“I think it may be connected to Jester’s story time the other night,” Caleb said, and his mind went back to a couple days ago.

It was still surreal thinking about how that evening had gone. Jester had gathered everyone up on the second night on the island, loudly proclaiming that there was something they just HAD to hear about, but utterly refusing to explain what it was ahead of time. When they did finally get to the explanation Jester had made almost zero sense, and so she had pulled in Beau, Fjord, and Kingsley to help. At that point things had become intelligible, but still no less bizarre. Honestly, there weren’t many ways to describe ‘demon organized death match that may have just been a shared dream but also may have actually happened, we’re not sure’ and not have it be weird.

Kingsley’s thing had almost been an afterthought. Or at least, he’d tried to make it an afterthought

“Yeah, and for some reason I was Molly in the death match?” Kingsley’s eyes flicked to Yasha, and she gave him a small nod. “A-and I got all his memories when I woke up, but it’s not that big of a deal, the name’s still Kingsley and-”

“Wait WHAT?!” Veth yelled, and any chance of his comment passing without notice vanished as several people started talking at once.

In the end, the actually conversation about it had been relatively tame. Half of the group already knew about it, and therefore had been available to help deal with any questions, which, admittedly, there’d been a lot of. Kingsley still wanted to be called Kingsley, yes he did remember that happening, and no, he wasn’t planning on letting this change anything. There’d been a sort of nervous energy to Kingsley during the entire exchange, as if he’d been afraid of how everyone would react, but he’d seemed okay by the end of the night. Now, however, Caleb wasn’t so sure.

“He said he was okay, but getting memories all at once like that would be... a lot.”

“It would,” Essek said quietly, and after checking the page he was on he set his book aside, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth. “In certain ways, his situation sounds somewhat like that of consecution. Not exactly the same, but... similar.”

This time it was Caleb’s turn to pause, and he slowly set down the pages of notes that he’d been working on. Consecution was something they’d touched on before, but not in depth, and it was rare for Essek to be the one to bring it up first.

“In regard to the memories?”

“Partially.” Essek spent a few more moments with his fingers steepled before he sighed and leaned back. “That is a major part of it, but also that of living a different life before regaining memories. Or. Hmm.” He frowned a little. “The Dynasty’s perspective on person hood is not one that I think our friend would appreciate, however.”

“Most likely not,” Caleb murmured. He knew from their past conversations that when a consecuted individual regained their memories, it was often assumed that they would incorporate parts of their prior identity and life, regardless of the life they’d been born into. The comparison was a little muddied by Kingsley already being with most of the people he knew in this ‘prior’ life, but his feelings on identity had been made plenty clear in the past. Whoever he’d been before, Kingsley cared about who he was now.

Caleb made a gesture to one of the tower cats and few moments later it came over with a tray of hot cider, Caleb giving a soft “Danke” as he grabbed a cup. He took a small sip, doing his best to avoid burning his tongue. “Do you know of anything related to consecution that would help?”

Essek took a drink from the tray as well with a small thanks, the cat wandering back off and Essek holding the drink between his hands. “Not personally, no. Most help in regards to anamnesis is guiding through regaining memories, and reconciling past lives with the current life. Our friend has already passed the former point and I do not know how to help with the latter. Though it is much more gradual than whatever happened here.”

Caleb took another sip. “What is the usual pace? Days, weeks, months...?”

“Once the guided meditation has started, it can take weeks, sometimes even months or years for full reconciliation.” Essek tapped his nails on his cup, taking a drink. “But memories and echoes of the past life can occur for a long time as well, depending on how long it takes the individual to return to Xhorhas. So, it varies.” He tilted his head, thoughtful. “I do find myself wondering now how greater restoration would effect a consecuted individual pre anamnesis. Would it cause an early return of memory? Or would nothing occur until anamnesis began naturally?” A longer drink, and a small hum. “Not necessarily something that could be tested, since consecuted individuals are found through anamnesis, but Kingsley’s situation does raise some interesting questions.”

“Ja, it does, though I think he is too much of an outlier to draw conclusions from.” Caleb took a drink and set his cup on the side table. “The situation with his soul is... strange, after all.”

Essek snorted. “To put it mildly.” He went quiet for a few seconds, looking down at his cup before his eyes flicked to Caleb. “I do not have the frame of reference myself, but, how similar is Kingsley? To Mollymauk?”

That caught Caleb off guard. “... I am not entirely sure.” He laced his fingers, resting them in front of his chin. “His general demeanor and enthusiasm are alike, and strangely enough, even his refusal of being Mollymauk upon waking was very in character as something Mollymauk would have done. But he is different too.”

Essek made a ‘go on’ gesture. “Such as?”

He ran through a few memories. “Ambition, for one. Mollymauk was not one for larger goals or pursuits, and he mostly preferred to live day to day. He was also quite fond of bullshitting. Kingsley is as well, but not nearly to the same degree.” Caleb could still remember some of the ridiculous stories Molly had spun about his supposed past. Somehow, even those had not measured up to the strangeness of the truth. “He was happy, and comfortable in who he was, but avoidant as well. Kingsley is more settled in a lot ways.”

Essek nodded, finishing off his drink and using mage hand to place the cup on the same table as Caleb’s.

“In the Dynasty, it is not uncommon for members of prominent dens to watch children for any possible change in behavior, no matter how small, to see if it might be a sign of anamnesis and who they were before.” Essek gave a thin smile. “Considering the den members who were proven wrong about my brother and I, I am not particularly fond of the practice. And yet...” He sighed, hands clenching in his lap. “You are right that Kingsley is too much of an outlier to be used as a direct example. But he is also a soul returned to life who only regained memories at a later time. What does he say about how much of a person is their soul, and how much is the life they’ve led, or how they were raised? And what does that say about the Dynasty and how it treats consecution?”

Caleb had gone still the moment Essek had mentioned himself and his brother, and now he reached over to gently take one of Essek’s hands, Essek returning the grip. Caleb ran his thumb back and forth, pale skin against dark.

“I am sorry you and your brother had to deal with that. You do not have to answer, but... is this part of why you refused consecution?”

Essek stiffened, and he had to deliberately make himself relax, letting out a long breath. “In a broader sense,” he said quietly, squeezing Caleb’s hand. “Frustration at the cultural norms played a part of it, but it was also there being so little understanding of how the beacons and consecution truly work.” He shook his head with a small laugh. “I somehow still forget that I’ve already told you about not being consecuted. I guess I got too used to needing to keep up appearances.”

“Well, you do not have to worry about that much anymore,” Caleb said, and he brought up Essek’s hand for a small kiss, Essek flushing at the quick peck but he was smiling as well. “There is a lot I still do not understand about consecution and the Dynasty, but I am willing to wait to learn more if you want to be done.”

“I was the one to bring it up, but I think that may be a good idea,” Essek said, continuing to hold Caleb’s hand. “I side tracked us from the original subject anyway,” he said ruefully.

Caleb chuckled. “Ja, that too.” He took a moment to let himself just enjoy holding hands with Essek, going back to rubbing with his thumb and fireplace crackling the background.

“Your question about souls and identity is a good one though. It very well could be what our friend is dealing with right now, and even I am not sure how I would deal with that sort of thing on my own.”

“I would have to agree with you there,” Essek said. “Is there anything specific you want to do? To make sure he is okay?”

Now that was the important question. Caleb rubbed his chin, thinking. “I would say just being there for now. Not pushing or forcing things, but keeping an eye on him and listening if he wants to talk. I think this is something he has to do at his own pace.” From what he had seen so far, Caleb wasn’t sure if this was something Kingsley actually wanted to talk about, but he also knew forcing it wouldn’t help. “And if something becomes truly alarming, that is when we can go to Caduceus or Jester.”

Essek nodded. “I agree that they would be more suited for that sort of situation. And that is good for a start.” He gave Caleb’s hand another squeeze. “It is still hard at times, knowing that certain things don’t have a direct solution. That I can’t just ‘fix’ it on my own.”

“I know what you mean,” Caleb said. He knew it all too well, in fact. “But... that is why we have our friends too, I think. So that even if some things cannot be fixed we do not have to go through it alone. And that is what we can do for him.”

He looked up above the fireplace, at the stained glass displayed there. For a small moment, Caleb found himself wondering again, as he had in the past, how things may have gone if Mollymauk had never died. But he also knew, that right now, Kingsley was alive. The overall nature of person hood and identity was something he could talk about with Essek at length, for hours even, and still not have an answer. But there was a part of Caleb, perhaps a selfish part, that simply found himself glad that the soul of their friend, in whatever strange form or manner, as whatever person he wanted to be, had gotten his chance to live again. To be happy.

“Caleb?”

Caleb looked back down, to Essek sitting next to him, and smiled. “I am okay.” He leaned forward, giving Essek a kiss on the cheek, and stood, letting Essek use his hand to stand as well.

“Come on. I think it is time for us get to bed.”

***

Essek hadn’t expected to meet anyone else on his late night walk the next night. But when he came to the beach there was a figure sitting on the shoreline, tail trailing out behind him and horns framing his head, staring up at the bright moon above. No talking, or movement. Just quiet contemplation. It was a scene he hadn't really seen before for Kingsley, and it struck him in that moment just how young the tiefling was. How much bigger did the world feel sometimes, when so many things were new and unknown?

From his own experiences of The Mighty Nein dragging him into the wider world, he knew the answer was ‘quite a lot.’

Essek approached on foot, forgoing his floating cantrip so his presence would be known, and Kingsley looked over at the sound of crunching sand, shaking his head as if coming out of a daze.

“Hey. Didn't expect to see you out here.”

“Merely taking some time for myself,” Essek said. The breeze pulled at his clothes, Essek right now dressed in only a gossamer shirt and some simple trousers. It wasn't what he would usually wear in public, and he felt somewhat exposed, but the night had been warm and he’d decided to do without his typical layers. A decision he was now second guessing with facing the attention of someone else, but there were no extra looks or reactions, just an acknowledgement of his presence. There was something quiet about the moment. Fragile. Perhaps it wasn’t all bad being less formal. “Unable to sleep?”

Kingsley shrugged. “Something like that,” he said, fiddling with a crescent moon pendant on his chest. “Thought I might ask for some advice while I was awake.” A nod towards Catha up above. Kingsley was also dressed simply, in leggings and a loose white shirt, tattoos clearly visible with the sleeves rolled up and shirt hanging partially off his shoulder.

“What sort of advice?”

Kingsley’s cheeks and ears flushed. “Just. Some stuff. Nothing important.”

“Fair enough.” Essek hesitated, wondering if it was time for him to leave, but to his surprise Kingsley gestured to sand next to him.

“You okay staying for a bit? I wouldn’t mind some company.”

“I would be amenable to that,” Essek said. He sat down slowly, wincing a little when the sand shifted and got on his legs, but that was something he could fix later. The two of them were quiet for a bit, just listening to sound of the nighttime surf and wind.

“Have you... been enjoying this visit to Rumblecusp?” Essek asked.

Another shrug from Kingsley. “Sure. The island’s nice, but mostly I’m just glad to see everyone again.”

“Good, good, the same for me.” Another stretch of silence. Eventually Essek heard Kingsley’s tail tapping against the sand, something seeming to build, before Kingsley finally threw his hands into the air.

“Okay, I have to say it, what the FUCK was Travelercon and how are our friends this crazy?”

Essek let out an explosive breath that turned into a laugh. “By the light, I was starting to think I was the only one! I thought it wouldn’t have phased you.”

Kingsley shook his head. “Nope, I draw the line at actual gods getting involved in stuff. And I know that’s ironic coming from me of all people, but still.”

More laughter. “Well, it’s nice to know even you have your limits for chaos.”

“Eh, can’t win them all,” Kingsley said with a grin.

With some of the initial awkwardness now broken Essek felt himself relax, letting the last bit of stiffness come out of his shoulders.

“I admit, it is still strange to hear about some of things they have gotten up to,” he said.

Kingsley groaned. “Gods, I feel you on that. Some of the stuff Jester and Fjord talk about is just completely out there.” He threw a hand up in the air. “Hells, the just the other day Jester was telling me that Beau ended up with my dick as part of a Xhorhas disguise.”

Essek had a moment of being very grateful he wasn’t drinking anything when Kingsley said that. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah! Apparently Caleb polymorphed Beau into a tiefling, but she wanted to be a dude and Molly was the only dude tiefling Caleb really knew so Beau ended up with a purple dick.”

Essek snorted, smiling. “I am not sure if I would call that too much or too little attention to detail. Did you know that the first time I saw Caleb and Beauregard, they were in leather harnesses?”

Kingsley blinked a couple times. “I’d say I was surprised but I’m really not. How’d that end up happening?”

“My guess is that there were some misunderstandings about how humans were treated in the Dynasty. And it was in the throne room of the Bright Queen as well.”

This time it was Kingsley snorting out a laugh. “Of course it was! Honestly, I’m kinda glad to know your first meeting was ridiculous.” His tail swished over the sand. “The absurd stuff is wild enough on its own, but then there has to be the crazy dangerous things too. Though of course some of that has already come back to haunt us instead of staying in the stories.”

“Even literally, a few times,” Essek added, a chill running up his back. That had not been a fun trip.

Kingsley shuddered. “Don’t remind me. You know, I’d say Travelercon probably lands in middle of those two categories. At least nothing’s come back to haunt us from that.”

“Yet,” Essek said.

“Hey, you‘re gonna jinx us if you’re not careful.” Kingsley actual took a moment to look around them. “... but honestly, you’re probably right with how our luck manages to run. Just let it not be this trip at least.”

Kingsley paused for a moment after that and his tail stilled.

“As much as much as I’m ragging on things though... I do wish I could have been there,” Kingsley said, voice becoming wistful.

It almost hurt for a moment, how much those words rang true to Essek. Common ground it seemed.

“If it helps you feel better, I may have known our friends for a little while beforehand, but I didn’t actually travel with them until shortly before we met you. So you’re not alone in wishing for that.”

Kingsley blinked, a little surprised.

“Huh. I knew you weren’t there to start, but... I guess I never put together the actual timeline of that. And that does help, actually.” He smiled, giving him a nod. “Thanks.”

“Glad to help,” Essek said.

Kingsley leaned back onto his hands. “Honestly, it has been really nice to see everyone,” he said, tail starting to move again. “We’re not in the same place that much, at least not all at once, so it’s good seeing everyone together.”

Essek nodded. “I can agree with you there.”

They still had their reunions and special occasions, and there’d been a few times of everyone getting together to handle a problem, but the majority of their time was still spent in their individual groups. It worked, but... Essek felt a pang, remembering that first time really traveling with the Mighty Nein. Yes, it’d been more than stressful with the fate of the world in the balance, but it was also his first time of feeling like maybe he did belong somewhere, that he could have a home that was other people. And Caleb’s words to him, when they had sought to resurrect the very person sitting next to him...

He watched Kingsley for moment. Thought about his conversation with Caleb the night before.

“How have things been? After... what happened on the ship?” Essek asked. Not a push (he hoped), but maybe an opening if he felt ready.

There was a pause as Kingsley stilled, not moving for several seconds, before he let out a long breath.

“I admit it’s been... kinda weird, these past couple days,” he said, curling his fingers in the sand and looking back up at the moon. “Sometimes things are fine, but other times I’ll be talking with someone and there’s like... this double image with what I’m seeing right now, and what my new memories tell me I should be seeing. But of course they don’t match up, and I wasn't there for the change so trying to reconcile it is giving me a headache.” He glanced Essek’s way. “You and Caduceus don’t give me that issue for... obvious reasons, so, talking like this is actually kinda nice. I know things will be fine eventually but-” He waved a hand in the air. “Thoughts, memories, brain stuff, whatever. Still weird.” He sighed again, brushing the sand off of his hands and placing them in his lap. “The context from some of the memories has been good, but other parts... I still don’t know what to do with all of it, honestly. But I’ll get there.”

Essek was surprised that Kingsley had been willing to say so much, and he nodded when Kingsley finished.

“That is okay, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this would take awhile to get used to. But I can also listen if you need it.”

He watched Kingsley chew on his lip for a long moment.

“... do you think it’s bad that the memories almost make me feel worse in some ways?”

Essek shook his head. “I don’t think so. Memories are both good and bad, after all. May I ask why?”

“It’s... I kinda mentioned it offhand, with the double image stuff. But it’s a case that with remembering where stuff started with everyone, and seeing where they are now, I realize how much I’ve missed.” Kingsley reached down, hand closing around a small rock

“It just makes me amazed that they’re willing to put up with a fuck up like me, you know?” He tossed the small rock into the waves. “Like not just with my personality and being a mess, but on a cosmic level even with everything getting fucking dumped out of my head when they brought me back. And I know no one blames me for that,” Kingsley said quickly when he saw Essek about to speak. “It’s just... hard to get that part of my head to shut up sometimes. Hell, I did everything I could to tell them I was a stranger and they still took care of me. How are they even real?”

Essek huffed out a quiet laugh. “Well, as one, ah, ‘fuck up’ to another, I can relate.” Picking up a couple small pebbles from the sand he began to levitate them in his hand. “I was not exactly the most... open, to the Mighty Nein, when we first met. But they still insisted on spending time with me and trying to get to know me.” A small twitch of his fingers, and the pebbles began to orbit each other. “Against what I perceived as my better judgement at the time, I started to care about them. And then... they found out what I had done.” The pebbles halted in their orbit, quivering in place. “Somehow, they forgave me. I don’t know how. But they did.” He lifted his hand and the pebbles shot out over the ocean, eventually falling into the waves and his hand went back to his lap.

“I does feel surreal for them to still care after something like that. But I guess that is just who they are.”

“I guess so,” Kingsley said softly.

Both of them were quiet for a bit after that, Essek watching the moonlight reflect off of the waves.

“Perhaps we could have some... outsider solidarity, in a way?” Kingsley looked over at him, curious. Essek continued. “Even with knowing that we are members of The Mighty Nein, the fact that both of us missed so much other their original time together can make it feel unearned sometimes. For me, at least.” He watched a wave crest and crash onto the shore. “So... it might be nice, to know we’re not alone in that. And to have someone to talk to when we need it.”

“I do like the sound of that. And same, honestly, on the part about things feeling unearned. It’s nice not being alone.”

Kingsley held a fist towards Essek. “Solidarity?”

Essek nodded, glad that he at least knew this from Beauregard. “Solidarity,” he said, and he completed the fist bump.

Essek knew that once this reunion was over, he would have figure something out if the two of them wanted to stay in contact with any consistency, but he had a strong feeling in that moment it would be worth the effort.

He watched as Kingsley started to relax again, looking back up at the moon, and Essek let himself relax as well.

***

To say Molly had been in love with Caleb would be inaccurate. He’d been interested, yes, and there’d been potential, a tentative hint at possibly something more. Caleb being attractive certainly hadn’t hurt. But that potential had never gotten the chance to grow and good gods had Caleb not been ready for any kind of relationship at the time. It hadn’t worked out, and it was bittersweet, but it was understandable.

Kingsley knew all of this, and it still did jack shit to help him in that moment.

“Jesterrrr, I think I fucked up.”

Kingsley fell dramatically onto her bed, mouth in a full on pout and tail tapping against the sheets. Jester paused in her sketching, sitting just a foot away from his head.

“Well, what did you do?” She reached down and brushed some hair out of his face. “It is a ‘something super bad is going to happen’ fucked up, or a ‘I don’t know what to do’ fucked up?”

“The latter? But it feels like the first one.” Just a few minutes ago he'd been out on the deck of the ship, watching Caleb and Essek chatting out of the corner of his eye, heads bowed together and lingering touches shared as they passed notes back and forth. All in all, a rather tame exchange, especially compared to the books Jester liked to read. And he’d still felt like he was going to fly apart at the seams, eventually having to flee to try and tamp down his nervous energy.

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Why did it have to be the wizards...”

“Wizards? Do you mean Caleb? Wait.” A small gasp. “You said wizards, as in plural. Do you mean Essek too!?”

“... maybe,” he mumbled.

“Oh my gosh, Kingsley! What happened? Do you need help?”

There was a long, awkward pause, Kingsley’s face still in his hands. He was rapidly realizing that Jester may have been the wrong person to come to about this, but his usual gossip instincts had taken over and there was no backing out of it now. Who knew, maybe this would still be a good distraction and the possible damage would be kept to a minimum.

... not likely, but he could still hope.

He pulled his hands away from his now blushing face, and tilted his head back a little to look at Jester.

“... I might have ended up with a crush on both of them.”

“OHMIGOSH!!”

Sure enough Jester’s exclamation was ear splitting and Kingsley hurriedly flipped over to sit on his knees, waving his hands downwards. “Shhhh!!! I don’t know where they are right now!”

A hand went up to her mouth. “Oh! Sorry.” She was much quieter now, but he could still see the grin peeking out from around her hand. “Wellll?”

Kingsley sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He’d done this to himself. Might as well roll with it.

“Okay. So, I know I’ve always found them cute, it’s kind of hard not to-” Kingsley saw Jester waggling her eyebrows and he rolled his eyes- “But that was it, really. They’re cute but they were each doing their own thing.” Kingsley shrugged. “I think it was when we all started traveling together for stuff that I started to notice it.” Part of him wanted to stop right there and leave, but no, he’d agreed to this. And a bigger part of him did want to actually get this out to someone.

He shifted to sit so his knees were in front of his chest and forearms resting on his knees. “Caleb was first. There’s not really a specific moment but the big thing is just how much he cares about everyone? Hell, just look at the tower!” Not up right now with it being the middle of the day, but it was hard to forget personalized rooms in exact detail and endless food. “I also forgot how funny he is. Sure, he’ll still have his moments of beating himself up but he’s confident! And happy! And then of course he’s stupid good at what he does, or, well, the opposite of stupid really, and it’s just...” Kingsley groaned and scrubbed at his face, arms flopping back onto his knees.

“Essek took a bit longer, but, since he spends a lot of time with Caleb I guess just kinda started noticing him too.” Jester was almost vibrating in place with how excited she was and Kingsley had to work to not get distracted. “The obvious one is him being really good at stuff like Caleb is, and even if he’s on the quiet side he’s actually really nice to talk to? And while it’s not as like, big or out there as some of Caleb’s stuff, he cares a lot about everyone too, and he’s constantly doing little things to try and be better, with himself and what he does."

Kingsley let out a long, long sigh. "I think what’s fucked me over this time is getting the memories back.” Gods, hadn’t that been a sucker punch to the face, seeing current Caleb overlaid with a memory of the dirty hobo wizard and suddenly knowing exactly what Molly had felt about him at that time. “Not just the old thoughts and feelings, but seeing how much Caleb’s changed. Definitely a good way! But what the fuck, I can’t handle this.”

His memories from Molly certainly made things worse, but Kingsley also knew they weren’t solely to blame. Not when he had very clear memories of his own of flirting with the ‘magic man’ right out of the gate. The memories may have revealed why he felt a certain way about things, but the feelings themselves? Those had remained the same all along. And his quiet admiration for Essek, knowing he wasn’t interested but finding him fascinating anyway? Oh, that was entirely his own fault, no Molly memories required. This was a mess. He was a mess.

“That’s... the gist of it, I guess.”

“Oh. My. GOSH. Kingsley!!!” Jester was grinning ear to ear, hands clasped together in front of her and tail rapidly going back and forth. “That is so sweet!”

“I’m glad you think so at least,” Kingsley said. “I’m still trying to figure out how to be around them without panicking.” He knew that wasn’t actually true (his whole conversation with Essek last night proved that much), but right now, it certainly felt like it.

“Maybe being around them a little bit at a time would help? And with other people too so it’s less overwhelming.” She tapped her chin, thinking. “What about sitting next to them at dinner tonight?”

“Mmmaybe? I don’t know.”

“Well, we could give it a try! And if it’s too much I could totally switch places with you.”

Kingsley just thought that would draw more attention to him rather than help, but it was at least an option. He thought about sitting next to them. Talking, laughing, being close...

“I kind of want to try it, but. What if it all ends up being pointless?”

“Why would it be pointless?” she asked, confused.

He looked to the side, away from Jester.

“We all want different things. Caleb’s a teacher, Essek’s still on the run, and I want to stay at sea. And all of that is really hard to work around. So... it could be pointless if it never works out.”

“You don't know that for sure,” Jester said.

“Seems plenty likely to me,” Kingsley said, his tail wrapping around his ankles and lower back.

A sigh from Jester. “Kingsley...”

Kingsley refused to look her way, chin resting on his forearms.

This was a him problem. There was a big chance things wouldn’t work, so it might be better for him to just let the crushes stay in the background and settle on their own. Maybe he could be fine admiring from afar and leaving it at that.

... the thought didn’t feel that good, honestly.

He heard movement and then Jester was in his view again, sitting down on the other part of the bed. He looked back in front of him - and Jester moved back as well, crossing her legs. “You can move again if you want to get comfortable,” she said matter of fact. “But I can keep moving too.”

Kingsley’s mouth twitched, and then he was smiling. Okay, this was a little silly. He let himself uncoil, crossing his legs and hands resting on his knees and letting out a breath.

“Alright, I believe you,” he said, and Jester nodded.

“Okay. A thing I’ve learned with Fjord is that a big part of relationships is working together to figure stuff out. I know some stuff looks impossible right now, and it can be really hard, but a lot of the time it can be worth it too. You won’t know what you’re able to do until you actually talk about it and try.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Putting himself out there, only for it to fall apart? Kingsley wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle that.

“Sometimes it doesn’t,” Jester said. “But if you don’t try, you also miss finding out if it could work and being happy with that. And... you seem pretty unhappy with how things are now,” she said, expression worried.

Kingsley shrugged. “Not necessarily unhappy, more of just...” More of what? He wracked his brain for a few seconds. “I’m not sure what I’d call it, actually.”

“Pining, maybe?”

A pause.

“... I want to disagree with you on principal, but fuck.” He groaned. “I think you might be right.”

There was a knock at the door, and the two of them froze.

“Who is it?” Jester called out.

“Caleb.” (Kingsley’s eyes widened.) “Can I come in?”

He wasn't ready for this. He had no idea what to say, he couldn't be seen in here, he-

“Sure!”

Panic.

There were no exits from the room outside of the door, and with no way to flee, his panic addled brain switched to the only other option - hide.

Dropping off the bed Kingsley impacted with a loud THUMP and scrambled underneath, pulling his tail in after him and fighting to quiet his breathing. He heard a strangled laugh from Jester up above. “J-just a moment!”

“I heard something, is everything okay?”

“Yep!! Everything’s good!”

Kingsley wanted to glare at Jester but she was hidden from view, him only able to see her legs from under the bed as she got up and answered the door.

“Heya Caleb! What d’you need?”

“Ah, Beauregard wanted to talk to you about something, and I came to...” He trailed off. “Is that-?”

Kingsley stopped breathing when Caleb walked into the room, and he nearly screamed when Caleb crouched down to look underneath the bed. FUCK!

“Hallo there friend,” he said, smiling. “Is there a reason you are under the bed?”

His brain blanked.

“Nope! Just doing everything possible to avoid you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth Kingsley wanted to screech at himself. Of all the things he could have said and it was that?! There was no good way to take that! And sure enough the smile faded, Caleb blinking a few times and leaning back. “Oh. I... guess I will leave you be, then.”

And then Caleb got up and walked out of the room.

There was a beat as Jester looked between him and the door, uncertain, Kingsley still under the bed and heart hammering in his chest.

All at once, he was furious.

No, NO, he was not going have Caleb leaving upset like that, hiding like this was fucking stupid! Kingsley tore out from under the bed, surging to his feet and going out after Caleb.

“Caleb! Wait!”

Caleb slowed and stopped as Kingsley jogged up to him, expression still wary.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” Caleb said, tone light but Kingsley could hear the question in it as well.

“Yeah, no, that was- can I get a redo?” he said a little desperately.

Caleb gestured ahead of them. “Walk and talk?”

Kingsley nodded. “Yes please.”

“Ja, okay,” Caleb said, and he started walking immediately after, Kingsley having to jog a couple more steps to catch up.

There was still no way he felt ready to tell Caleb what he’d been telling Jester, but... maybe a half truth could work for now.

“Sorry about what I said back there, it came out completely wrong,” Kingsley said, tail swaying behind him as they walked. “I was scared about talking to you and I panicked.”

Caleb gave him a curious look. “Why were you scared?”

“It’s...” Kingsley swallowed. He needed to avoid putting his foot in his mouth this time. Or saying too much. Both would be bad. “It’s been confusing with all the new memories. And I don’t really know how to handle it yet.”

Strangely enough, Caleb didn’t seem surprised by that answer. If anything he looked worried. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe? I don’t really think there’s a manual for how to deal with sudden memories from a past life.” That made an even stranger expression flash across Caleb’s face but it was gone before he could figure it out. “And it’s nothing bad about you with the memories, if anything they’re actu...ally...” The sentence stumbled off awkwardly, Kingsley realizing too late that he was about to say too much. Shit.

That got him a raised eyebrow. “Actually...?”

He scrambled to think of what to say, what would reasonably fill in the blank, but he was coming up empty. And... part of him was getting tired, of avoiding things and being scared.

In the end, Kingsley decided to say fuck it.

“Actually really fond of you.”

A little thrill went through him at saying that out loud. Sure, he was mostly attributing it to Molly instead of now, and he’d probably regret saying it, but it was out there. He waited to see how Caleb would react, and as he watched a smile came back to his face.

“Fond of the ‘magic man’?”

Ooooooh, Kingsley could hear the tease in that voice, that Caleb knew what he’d really meant when he’d said that, but as it turned out, it didn’t feel bad. Maybe this could be okay after all.

“Well,” Kingsley said, the nervous thrill zipping through him again, “it’s definitely not hard to see why.”

It wasn’t that long before they were ways out on the deck. Kingsley caught sight of Essek standing up to meet them and his heart jumped. Stay calm, stay calm. This was fine. He was fine.

(He still ended up screaming internally for a bit when Essek reached them.)

Essek smiled at Kingsley. “I hadn’t expected to see you Kingsley, but the surprise is a nice one. And it is good to see you too, Caleb,” he said with a nod.

“You as well, Essek,” Caleb said, voice fond.

Kingsley’s heart sank a little, wondering if this was his cue to get out of there, but to his surprise Caleb looked back his way.

“Essek and I were planning on returning to the island for a walk. Would you be interested in joining us? Essek?”

“That would be fine by me,” Essek said.

“I’d be happy to,” Kingsley said, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

Jester might be right. Sure, it might not work out, and it would be hard, but he also knew that it could be worth it too. He could give it a try.

Caleb gave a nod, leading the way, and the three of them walked down the gangplank together.

#Critical Role #Caleb Widogast #Essek Thelyss #Kingsley Tealeaf #Mollymauk Tealeaf #Jester Lavorre #Mollymauk #shadowgast #widomauk #shadowmauk #shadowidomauk #or the set up for it at least #Kingsley with Molly's memories #katieyouneedtocatchup #critical role fanfiction #my writing

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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Okay, the tenth anniversary episode of The Last Leg was truly sweet. Alex Brooker talking about how that show gave him his first opportunity to talk publicly and openly about his disability, to work with other people like him, and made him more comfortable with it. Normally when he starts talking that way it’s to make fun of the way people think disabled people just existing in public is inspirational, and rightly so because society is rife with that incredibly patronizing attitude. But every once in a while they’ll talk about actually being inspired by the disability positivity and representation, and it’s a reminder that this is actually a big deal. In this case, Alex managed to get through several genuinely nice points in a row before undercutting it with a joke about Josh’s status as a disability-adjacent comedian. But it was a half-hearted undercutting, like “I know I have to make some joke here so I don’t just let that wave of sincerity hang in the room, but I’m only going to do a little joke so some of the sincerity can remain.”

They joke about the Paralympic legacy, and they’re right to do so because there’s so much bullshit that needs undercutting, but it is actually fucking cool. Ten years ago Channel 4 tried something no one has done, as far as I know pretty much anywhere, which is to give the Paralympics coverage on par with the Olympics. And I think it has changed the game. It’s probably changed the whole landscape of disability sport over time, as disabled people could see sports that they did or that they could do get mainstream attention, and would be more likely to join them or stick with them to higher levels. If they caused a rise in that starting ten years ago, that creates a snowball effect, where across ten years, more disabled athletes starting or getting serious about sports leads to more athletes achieving great things, which inspires more to start. And it means more disabled athletes who stick with it enough to become disabled coaches, disabled commentators, people who create and maintain more infrastructure for disability sports. You end up with ripple effects that of course can’t all be attributed to one comedy show, but I think The Last Leg was one of the catalysts. And as The Last Leg became much more than just Paralympic coverage, it had a hand increasing disabled representation in more than just sports.

I realize I’m not in a position to say how the game has changed for disabled people in Britain, given that I’m neither physically disabled nor British (and, you know, representation is just one tiny piece of the game and especially these days many of those disabled people are more worried about things like benefit cuts), but I’m not the one coming up with the idea. I’m just watching what’s happening there and believing people like Jonnie Peacock when they talk about how different things are than they were ten years ago. Great Britain’s very successful results at the Tokyo Paralympics bear out the idea that they are doing something much better than most countries to foster disability sport there. I can name multiple British celebrities with a range of physical disabilities, and I can’t say the same about disabled Canadian or American celebrities, even though I live in Canada and my media, like most people’s, is saturated with American content. The Last Leg obviously isn’t the sole reason for any of those things, but I do think it’s helped.

I realized recently that I don’t struggle at all to understand Rosie Jones anymore. I was never completely unable to understand her, but I used to have to work at it. I had tricks like looking at her lips when she spoke, speeding up the video if that’s an option, and just listening extra hard. But now I don’t have to do any of that. I thought at first that maybe, in recent years, she’s gotten better at speaking in a way that’s easier for most people to understand. To check that, I went back and listened to some earlier stuff she’s done, and I was able to understand her just as easily there. So it’s not that she’s changed, it’s that I’ve changed. I’ve heard her talk enough so I’ve gotten used to it. Rosie Jones’ career taking off may lead to a whole lot of people who hear her talk often enough that they get better at understanding the speech of people with cerebral palsy, and that will lead to people with cerebral palsy being slightly more likely to run into people who can understand them without asking them to repeat words all the time. That’s a fantastic thing.

I already had some practice with understanding slow or slurred speech because I spent several years working as a PSW for clients with a bunch of different disabilities, and a few had cerebral palsy and spoke like Rosie. I tried hard to catch every word they said and I got better at understanding them over time, but I wish I’d been watching shows with Rosie Jones back when I worked there. Hearing her talk continuously, while I’m at home and can focus on understanding instead of being at work and running from one job to the next, is what it took for me to get used to how it sounds and start understanding it really easily. I think I’d have been a better PSW if I’d practised back then by watching Rosie Jones.

I also realized I’ve gotten used to Alex, and I feel a bit guilty that that ever took getting used to for me. When I was a PSW, my clients had various levels of mobility but they were all in wheelchairs, so I got used to being around people whose disabilities are immediately visible. But I’ve realized that getting used to seeing them at work does not necessarily translate to getting used to it in other contexts. Before I watched The Last Leg, when I saw Alex Brooker on other panel shows, my attention was immediately drawn to his hands. When he joined Josh on that one Catsdown episode, my first thought was to wonder how he’d play the game that required holding a pen. I like to think that in real life I don’t go around staring at disabled people like they’re a novelty, but the truth is that when I saw Alex on TV I did immediately think of him as the guy with those hands.

Now, I don’t think twice about it. When he has to hold something on The Last Leg and he makes a joke about how it’s not fair that they make the disabled guy do that, it takes me a minute to even remember what he’s talking about, because it’s been made quite clear that he’s capable of holding and manipulating objects. And even when they bring in people who have disabilities that do stop them from doing those things unassisted, I don’t find myself immediately thinking much about that. They integrate whatever accommodations those people need – devices, support person, just having them do some things differently or not at all – into the show, and that seems natural. It’s not that I don’t notice it happening at all, it’s just that now that I’ve seen this with so many disabled people on The Last Leg, it’s just one little aspect of what those people are doing, instead of the focus of my attention.

Alex Brooker talked about how this show makes him less self-conscious about his disability, and as much as I’d love to say he should never be self-conscious, I know that sometimes people are distracted by his hands, because I was at first. But I’m not distracted by his hands anymore, now that I’ve watched all 600,000 episodes of this show. I imagine it’s had the same effect on a lot of other people, and that is good for Alex Brooker and for a lot of other people who have visible disabilities and would like to go through life without those always being the main thing people pay attention to.

I sort of feel bad now about how when I started The Last Leg I made a joke about how Alex Brooker could do Taskmaster without accommodation, because that joke was based on me seeing his hands and assuming it would be a surprise for him to be able to do that. I now realize he absolutely could do Taskmaster without accommodation, and the only reason Alex isn’t my first choice for what Last Leg host should try to equal Josh’s record of being a two-time Taskmaster champion is that I’ve gotten to know more about Adam Hills, and he’s the one with the competitive personality that makes him perfect for that show. He’d spend the entire time reminding us that Jonnie Peacock did not attend the studio portion of the New Year’s Treat special so technically he’s the first disabled person to do all of Taskmaster, and it would be fantastic.

In the last few weeks I’ve gotten into finding videos of old comedy shows at festivals – I’ve been posting a few things on here from the Late ‘n Live Edinburgh show, but I’ve been watching a bunch of things like that, from Edinburgh and Melbourne and a few other places. Those Mark Watson marathon gigs. The very very few tiny clips I’ve scraped together of that Honourable Men of Art thing, though to my annoyance that show seems to have drawn a crowd of people who are decent and polite enough to not record it while they’re there. One thing I’ve noticed is that Adam Hills is fucking everywhere (not actually at that Men of Art thing, I just mentioned that one to complain about how there’s no video of it, but he’s everywhere else). It’s a reminder of how much longer he’s been doing this than Josh or Alex, and how many different people he’d performed with across different years and different generations of comedians, before The Last Leg even started.

Adam has talked before about how Alex Brooker is the first person he’s ever worked with to also have a disability like his, and how nice it was to have that in common with someone. I always thought that was cool, but I see what he means a little more now that I’ve gotten a better idea of how much he did before that. And I don’t think Adam Hills was miserable for all those years of only working with only able-bodied comedians – he always looks like he’s having enormous fun out there. But after all that time getting used to being the only one, I can see why he considered it so special to not be that anymore.

Adam spent all that time as the one disabled guy on other people’s comedy shows, and in 2012, he got to host a mainstream TV show where being disabled is integrated into the show itself. Once he was in there, he opened things up for everyone else. Brought in disabled comedians as writers and as people who appear on the show. Gave coverage and platforms to disabled athletes even when the Paralympics aren’t on. Not that Adam Hills did every bit of that personally, but The Last Leg did it, and it’s clearly important to Adam that this is part of it. Because of that, other disabled comedians can come up in that industry and be slightly less in a position of the only one. Alex Brooker spent far fewer years of his career as the only one than Adam Hills did.

Anyway, those are some thoughts I have after watching the ten-year anniversary episode of The Last Leg. People being on TV more leads to people like them being seen as normal, and that’s a good thing. Before I end this post, I would like to give credit to the funniest moment of the episode, because it did get a laugh but I thought it deserved a bigger one:

Adam Hills: Voting [in the leadership election] ended today at 5 PM for Tory members.

Josh Widdicome: Shit. [looks around like he’s supposed to be somewhere else]

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

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erotica, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your roommate, Min Yoongi, catches you masturbating. You catch him masturbating. Well then, dear reader... This should be interesting, shouldn’t it?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, smut (fem reader, f and m-masturbation, cum eating); non-idol!AU; switches between Yoongi’s POV and your POV

Being in the music industry was rough. It meant long nights struggling for inspiration, fervent mania when it did hit, and crippling anxiety when it was being evaluated. But being a music producer was all Min Yoongi ever wanted.

He had given up a lot to chase his dreams, moving to the big city alone, friendless, trying to find his way, living meal by meal. He needed a roommate, but finding a trustworthy one was difficult. Friend of a friend of a friend and he finally found someone who seemed alright. A young woman in the middle of grad school, who was looking for a place to stay. At first Yoongi thought it would be weird to room with a girl, but one conversation and he realized it would be a good match. Her first question was if he was going to have guests over often. Of course not, Yoongi had music to work on. Her second question was if he was clean, because she couldn’t stand a dirty living situation.

In short, he now had a quiet, paying roommate who kept to herself, holed up in her room all day studying or rushing to class.

Yoongi worked for a small entertainment company, but he also had a home studio because he couldn’t afford to rent a space. This was enough for now. He asked if she was fine with a little noise and she responded by holding up her over-the-ear headphones.

But Min Yoongi had a secret.

Nothing that incriminating. Nothing like drugs or a gambling problem or a recurring STD or something like that. It was in innocent secret, a very small one.

Min Yoongi liked to read erotica blogs.

Now, Yoongi could watch porn. He could go through all the hoops and find some to jack off to. That wasn’t why he preferred to read smut stories online. He just liked to use his own imagination. He liked closing his eyes and painting the scene, but he wasn’t creative enough to dream up all the freaky scenarios he could read online. Some people had some… big brain energy. Some wrinkly brains. He was pretty sure all his gray matter was used on music, so why not let someone else craft the story for him? It took the work out the equation and he could get off. Win-win.

Also, it was much easier to hide it in public. All people would see is him scrolling on his phone, the same thing everyone else did.

Yoongi had his favorites he went back to. They were updated often. Every week there was something new. He checked at least once a week, since that was his usual routine his body wanted. And it was fine. No one knew. He could do it whenever he wanted and relatively quickly. So, all in all, not that bad of a secret, really.

It was six in the morning and Yoongi was scrolling on his phone, mildly horny. Oh! One of his favorite blogs had updated late in the night. Nice. He chewed on his lower lip, reading the summary.

There was a knock on his door.

He nearly dropped his phone. The door was locked, thankfully.

“Yoongi-ssi?” He heard his roommate yawn sleepily. “Did you drink the last of the milk?”

He screwed up his face to think. “Maybe? I’ll buy some the next time I’m at the store.”

He heard the sounds of teeth being brushed and a muffled, “Nah, I’ll place a delivery order right now. I need stuff.”

And that was that. He heard her wander off.

Okay, a very, very, very small part of him did kind of want to get caught. Not embarrassingly or shamefully caught. Just… maybe if it ended in something kind of sexy. Like the stories.

That was would fun.

Yoongi went back to his phone.

You cracked your neck in the mirror, yawning again as you brushed your teeth. You rubbed your eyes, inspecting your dark circles. Ugh. Maybe a little concealer today couldn’t hurt.

You had stayed up late again, writing.

You hadn’t meant to. It happened every once in a while, when the scene played out in your head and you needed to write it down immediately. When inspiration struck, you couldn’t let it run away from you. Sometimes the best things come in short bursts of energy.

At least you didn’t have class today. You were caught up on your classes, so you could spend today writing for your blog. What you posted last night was written several days ago. You had a slight backlog so that you could review things multiple times before posting. Even if it was something as meaningless as smut posted on the internet, you took that shit seriously. This was your outlet and you wanted to personally like everything you posted.

If what you wrote didn’t make you horny, it wasn’t going to make anyone else horny either.

You spat and rinsed out your mouth.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your tired eyes looking back to you. Maybe you needed some socialization. Real socialization, not you eventually venturing outside because you needed to get laid for… research purposes. You chuckled. Well, you weren’t going to get that here. All your male roommate ever did was work on his music or eat. Which was alright; people were allowed to do what makes them happy. And besides, it was better that way, because you did actually need to study and eventually write your thesis. Less distraction at home was always better.

You turned off the lights in the bathroom and stepped out.

A strange noise came from Min Yoongi’s door.

You blinked, staring at the door several feet away from you. Then you shrugged. He probably just tripped. He was kind of clumsy sometimes, knocking shit over with his fat ass. Well, not really, but it was funny to think of it that way.

You went back to your room.

Oh fuck.

Yoongi stared at his door, clutching the toilet paper roll he hid in his nightstand. He was usually quite skilled at keeping quiet, but he accidentally moaned a little too loud. His hands were still sticky. He waited.

Her bedroom door down the hall closed and he sighed with relief.

When you got back to your room, you made the online grocery order. You needed pads anyway. Then you checked your blog. At this point, you had some familiar usernames you watched for. People rarely commented. Maybe their hands were busy or something. You could forgive. Besides, there were likes and that was enough. To be honest, you never expected anyone to actually do more than read. It felt kind of nice, knowing someone out there was willing to take one second to press one button to let you know.

It made you grateful, even if it was a small thing.

Your eye paused at one particular username. You only noticed it because it was gendered.

daeguboy0613.

Huh.

For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why someone would put their location and gender in their username. Maybe it was a reference to their favorite singer or something. Probably. You shrugged it off and flopped on your bed.

You fell asleep.

Big surprise since you had posted at four in the morning and only gotten up to brush your teeth because your mouth was too disgusting to exist. Ah well. Sleep was good.

You woke up, super groggy. You stared out the window, seeing that it was already dark. With a sigh, you looked into the tiny mirror beside your bed. Yikes. A master yikes even. You climbed your hair with your fingers and got out of bed, your purple pajamas rumpled and crazy. Maybe a shower would do you good. Or a bath. Oh! That sounded nice.

You looked around for your slippers. You found one. Ack, so annoying. You weren’t a messy person, but when you were preoccupied with something, you forgot everything else. You straightened your room and found the other slipper. It was in your blankets, oof.

You opened your door and realized you forgot clean underwear. You stuck your head out, looking around. Faint bass was coming from Yoongi’s room. He’d be there for a while. Eh. You still had your violet pajamas, with long sleeves and long pants. Fully covered. He wasn’t going to know in the two seconds it would take you to get to your room. A good shake of the fleece fabric and the wrinkles would fall out. You’d look way less crazy after a good bath.

You hummed to yourself as you made your way to the bathroom.

Yoongi rubbed his neck, frowning.

It wasn’t coming out the way he wanted. The sound just wasn’t right. He leaned back in his chair, furrowing his brow. Maybe he needed to move on for now. Leave it and work on something else. He spun around in his chair, lazing about. He hadn’t heard his roommate make much noise all day. Was she dead? Yoongi heard the water running in the bathroom. Oh. She was taking a shower.

He thought about her for a moment. She was generally calm person, quiet and reserved. The only time he had ever seen her panic was when she was late to class, which wasn’t often. Other than that, she was kind of boring. It was like the only thing she thought about was school. She was pretty in a casual sort of way. Yoongi rarely saw her dressed up, but the few times she left at night, she always looked very nice in a short black dress and black heels. Probably a recurring outfit she used at every outing. He could respect that. Being strapped for cash meant a lot of repeating outfits.

Anyway, they didn’t interact much at all. They had their respective things to do, so they co-existed in a mutualistic, symbiotic relationship. It was nice not having to be distracted by a bad roommate, so for that he was grateful.

You pushed back the shower curtain, dripping water.

That was nice. You waited as the bathwater drained. Your hair was wet, kind of by accident, but whatever, you needed to wash your hair anyway. Your brushed water off your body absentmindedly, poking your nipples. They were hard from the cold air.

Hm.

The water gurgled as you rubbed them slowly, sighing softly. That was nice. When was the last time you masturbated? You couldn’t remember. You looked at the bathroom door. It wasn’t locked, but what was Yoongi going to do? Open the door on you? Yeah, right. You pinched and pulled your nipples, sucking in a breath. It was nice to touch yourself, to cup your breasts and press them together, grazing your nails over the hardened nubs, imagining someone else’s hands touching you, wanting you.

You slid against the wall, moaning quietly as you played with your breasts, water beading on your skin. One of your hands slid down between your legs and slid around your folds. The wetness of your pussy was different from water, thicker, more viscous. Your eyes closed as you stroked your clit, slow and gentle and pretty. Imagining a tongue there, licking you softly, giving you just the right amount of pressure to build your arousal. No rushing, letting it last.

You ended up sliding to your knees, spreading your thighs wide to give your hand space. Your other hand played with your nipples leisurely, pinching and pulling, making your heart jump. You were quiet, barely making any noise.

Drip.

Your eyes opened hazily. They shifted slowly to the faucet. It was dripping water. Slow, fat plops hitting the bathtub.

Drip.

You pressed harder on your clit, rubbing roughly.

Drip.

Your eyes shifted to the silver faucet again. It was right there, after all.

Fuck it.

You turned the water on again, setting it to a nice temperature. You waited impatiently, touching the water. It heated up quickly. You bit your lower lip, and then raised the temperature a tad. It torrented down and, for a split second, you thought you weren’t going to do it.

Then you adjusted your hips and planted your ass on bottom of the bathtub and slid down to the water.

Instant, unyielding. You shivered, the blasting water jet-streaming right into your pussy. Holy fuck. You slid down a little more and moaned, hoping the water masked your sound as the high-pressure water smacked your clit, lowering to your elbows to get a better angle. Heart beating fast, legs folded flat against the edge of the tub, leaning your head back, tits straight up. It was a difficult position to keep, but a rewarding one, because the water was getting you off fast, gentle enough that you weren’t in pain but hard enough that you could really feel it radiate all over you, the heat adding to the pleasure.

So close, so close…

You closed your eyes, thighs burning, core tightening as your entire body began to throb. A slow hiss escaped your lips as you felt your orgasm unfurl and hit you, wave after wave of delicious pleasure swimming through you, spreading to every point of your body.

“Are you drowning or wasting water, the fuck is–”

Min Yoongi’s voice was trying to cut through your reverie but it was impossible because you were too far gone now, legs collapsing inward, body falling flat against the tub. The door was open and he was staring at you, eyes so wide they looked like dinner plates. Water flowed over your hot body, blanketing you. Slowly, slowly, you came down, like an addict losing their high. His mouth was slightly open, kitten-like. His white t-shirt stuck to his chest and black track pants far too oversized for his slim legs.

You might have been ashamed if you were younger, but you were older now. If he couldn’t handle you getting off every once in a while, then he was the one who needed help.

You reached up and turned the water off, panting. You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“If you’re so worried about it, I’ll pay the whole water bill this month,” you gasped, chest heaving as you glared back at him.

Yoongi sputtered back to life.

“N-no, that’s fine.”

And then he slammed the door.

You sighed, frowning. Now things were going to get weird.

Holy shit.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

He just witnessed his roommate masturbating with the goddamn water faucet.

Yoongi scrambled into his room and onto his bed, red in the face. He hadn’t meant to. He thought something weird was going on when he heard all the water. And, oh fuck, something was, but not the something he thought. His mind replayed the image for him, her legs spread, her breasts glistening with water, nipples hard and out, head tipped back and mouth open, tongue peeking out.

He was still hard.

His heart was thumping in his ribcage. Yoongi grabbed his phone and flipped through his liked posts. He had to get off. Now. Anything else could wait.

He slid in, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

Impatiently, he reached down and fished his dick out of his pants, sliding to his back and pushing his track pants down. Oh fuck, sweet relief. Yoongi stroked himself, reading, imagining her wet body, her slick hair, those fucking delicious breasts right in front of his face. Had Yoongi ever fantasized about his roommate before? Hell no, he wasn’t a damn pervert. But he was doing it now, because, fuck, how could he not? How could he not want to fuck her, press himself against her, hearing that soft moan against his ear, her wet body and smooth skin on his?

Yoongi dropped his phone, pushing his head back against the pillows, closing his eyes. Yes, he’d jacked off in the morning, but it was already late and he was so fucking horny it didn’t take very long for him to bite the inside of his cheek, trying to muffle his noise, trying to silence himself as the familiar wind-up came. He cracked his eyes open. His door was slightly ajar. Had he left it like that? Whatever, she was probably too embarrassed to come over here anyway.

Yoongi shut his eyes again, a soft cry leaving his lips as he chased his orgasm.

Then he felt it. A presence to his left. But he was so close, so close, so close, he couldn’t stop. His hand moved at a feverish pace, spreading the pre-cum over his length, adding to the pleasure. He felt lips on his cheek, her soft breathy moans against his skin. Was he imagining it? Then her lips on his, softly licking his tongue, so sensual and sexy that he was losing it, moaning into her mouth. He felt her hot breath glide into his and he groaned, too loud this time, feeling his cock twitch and spurt his cum everywhere, sliding down his hand, his wrist, onto his pants and shirt.

Yoongi panted, opening his eyes.

His roommate moved away from his face. Eyes dark in the low light of his room, pupils blown wide with lust. Her hair was still damp, slicked against her purple pajama shirt. He didn’t know what to do. Hos hand was a mess, covered in his cum. She leaned forward, tongue sliding out.

“Um…”

His thought was cut off as her warm tongue ran over his knuckles, scooping up his cum and eating it off his hand. His eyes went wide as she licked all around his hand, his fingers, dipping her tongue into the crevices. Yoongi could barely process what was happening right now. Was his nerdy, school-obsessed roommate licking his cum off his hand after he just masturbated? After he just witnessed her masturbating? Her mouth enveloped the head and part of his hand and Yoongi moaned, feeling her tongue press against the tip and tease the sensitive opening, licking it all clean.

After a sufficient amount, she removed her mouth and backed off. Yoongi blinked blearily, slowly detaching his hand from his limp cock. He didn’t know what to say. Or do, really. Her eyes were on his phone, screen still lit up. Then she shifted her eyes to his raised hand. Gently, she took him by the wrist and brought his hand to her face, placing his fingers in her mouth, sucking on them.

Yoongi was speechless.

Her tongue slipped between each finger, prodding around his joints, slurping slightly. She was still looking at his phone, eyes pensive. Yoongi wished his cock would wake up, but it wasn’t meant to be.

“I…”

Her eyes went to his, his fingers still in her mouth. Shit. His brain tried to process the thought, trying not to fixate on her pink tongue moving amongst his fingers.

“I can’t fuck you…” he mumbled, swallowing. “I already came twice today.”

She nodded. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, joint by joint. His body jerked at the movement, aroused but unable to get hard. Strings of saliva snapped as she removed her mouth from his hand. She turned it around and licked his palm lightly, making him shiver.

“You like my blog?” she finally said.

He blinked.

“What?”

She pointed to his phone. “That’s my blog.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide. He stared at his phone and then at her. Then back at the phone. Then back at her. What? She cocked an eyebrow, smiling at him.

“So, you’re daeguboy0613, huh?”

He blinked rapidly. “I… what… ah…?”

“Guess that makes sense when you like my posts at two in the morning and such.”

She climbed on the bed – where were her pajama pants? Her panties? – and laid down next to him.

“You don’t seem like the type to read erotica,” she said absentmindedly. “I thought only girls read erotica.”

Yoongi stared at the ceiling. “Obviously not, since I’m a guy.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t stereotype like that.”

Silence.

“We can always do more in the morning, Yoongi-ssi.”

Two things happened that day. One, Yoongi’s secret was exposed. And two, the source of Yoongi’s secret passed out in bed next to him, head on his shoulder.

34+35

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #yoongi x you

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depressedacadamia · 3 years

Text

17 year olds don’t make good decisions

Summary: it's exactly as the title suggests. On Nico's 17th birthday, he decides to do exactly as the title suggests and ends up visiting his boyfriend at the infirmary.

A/N: THIS WAS INSPIRED BY @rainnows and @daughter-of-sunshine from this post. ALSO SHOUT OUT TO @marbleheavy WHO CHEERED ME UP WHEN I WAS TALKING ABOUT BEING SAD ON BATHROOM FLOORS. Thank you @solangeloweek for this fun challenge! I actually managed to complete it without burning out halfway unlike with writers month which I PROMISE will be finishing. It feels super cool to tag people as if I had a tag list. Anyhow, hope yall enjoy the final day in will solace's bday week and comment! <3 from Persephone.

Read on AO3 Masterlist.

Perhaps trying to give himself a lip piercing all by himself in the solitude of the Hades Cabin was not the best idea. That said, Nico was trying to celebrate his 17th birthday and he had been looking forward to getting a lip ring that he had seen Thalia wear recently and of course, Nico was impressed.

But Nico was even more impressed when Thalia had told him that she had pierced her lip herself like a badass motherfucker. At the time of course, Nico's first thought was wondering whether the hunters of Artemis had a dress code and if so- were piercings included? (Because he knew that Apollo would definitely want in on that.)

But now, as he held his bleeding lip which dripped over his fingers and pulled out the metal needle which had come in the packaging, he realised that just perhaps this wasn't a great deal. He grabbed some tissues and held them to his lips in the hope that the applied pressure would at least stop the big gush of blood but after several impatient minutes of doing so, he began to slightly panic.

Why hadn’t the bleeding stopped? Did he hit a blood vessel? Obviously he must have since he was bleeding! Was it veins or arteries that were super dangerous? God, why was blood so red? And why did this hurt so damn badly- he’s been stabbed for goodness sake! He was a soldier and it was a boo boo lip that was getting to him?

He rushed to the infirmary in panic- he doubted many people would see him and he deeply cared about his lips; afterall, how else would he kiss Will?

“Why are you holding that to your mouth?” Will asked when he saw his boyfriend walk through the infirmary doors. “ You’re not meant to eat tissues. If you were hungry, you should have bought a happy meal.”

Nico, who was still bleeding profusely into the tissue, turned it around so Will could; see his blood stained face and almost ripped lip.

“It won’t stop bleeding,” Nico managed to whine out in pain.

“What did you do?!” Will shouted in horror.

“I DON’T KNOW, YOU’RE THE DOCTOR!”

“I’M A HEALER, NOT A DOCTOR!” Will, truly panicking, screamed back. The two stared at each other, eyes wide open and finally, Will realised that while Nico was a soldier, he wasn't a healer. Sure- he inflicted injuries but he didn't fix them. In other words, Nico was completely clueless.

Will repeated the question, this time with a calmer tone. “What did you do?”

He changed his gloves and sat Nico down so he could have a look.

“I shwied oo iercee my wip,” Nico tried to speak as Will held his mouth open, taking a glance at the bottom of his lip.

“Sooo?” Nico said once again, over exaggeratedly as his boyfriend prepared to clean the wound.

“There’s a hole in your lip.” Will said, without a fraction of surprise as he began to clean the wound, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball at the injury.

“Ouuchh,” Nico tried to move away, but Will - in a very threatening manner- stopped him with a manic gleam in his eye that read No <3.

The two sat there as Will managed to stop the immense bleeding. Quite luckily for Nico’s reputation, there weren’t many people in the infirmary that specific evening and therefore, it was only Will and a couple of other healers- who weren’t scared of Nico but let him think so- who knew of the accident.

“Why did you even want to get your lip pierced in the first place?” Will umbled as he began to clean up.

“Because.”

“Because what?”

Nico replied in innocent honesty. “ It’s cool.”

Will choked at the simplicity of the answer. “Because it’s cool?”

Nico, similar to a puppy, nodded with eager delight. Sure, his lip piercing had not gone the way he had wanted and it was a shame that he’d have to wait for his lip to heal so that could try again but in the end- his lips still seemed to be working.

“Let me get this straight,” Will paused, “ You got a lip piercing, you willingly attempted to put a hole through the flesh of your lip because you thought it looked cool?”

“No,2 Nico huffed slightly. “Also you can’t get anything straight.”

Will sighed, “ And you’re about to make a gay joke to hide your own religious truama, aren’t you.”

“Oi!” Nico cried. “ No fair! You don’t get to ruin the punchline of my joke and expose my psychological trauma!”

Will gave a small chuckle to himself as he finished cleaning up and Nico patiently- which was relatively surprising- waited on the bed. He moved his fingers to gently prod his lip where the injury had occurred a while ago, a bit surprised to feel the flesh there to be swollen and burning hot to the touch.

“Willll,” Nico complained. “ My lip is puffy.”

The blond healer scoffed in response. “ That’s what you get for trying to pierce your lip by yourself.”

“But Thalia did it by herself and it looks so cool!”

“Is that what this is about?” Will turned around suddenly. “ Because Thalia told you about her lip piercing.”

Nico folded his arms looking away slightly. “ She didn’t just tell me, she was wearing her lip piercing and I for one think it looks awesome.”

“Yeah, I can really tell from the state of your lip,” Will laughed dryly.

“You’re being meaner than usual, sun boy.”

“You’re being stupider than usual death boy.”

“See!”

“I think I'm allowed to be a bit annoyed at the stupid attempt you made ot pierce your own lip without the aid of anyone else- or at least your boyfriend-, who, might I add, is a healer!”

“So I’m meant to be running to you every time I might have a problem and supposedly need some help with it?”

“Yes!”

Nico, ready to retort back an ‘I thought so”, paused. “Oh.”

The infirmary fell silent as they both stood staring at each other while the sun set behind=d them in the background. Will’s skin glowed under the light and Nico’s eyes glinted. They stared at each other and suddenly within a beat all the tension in the room rushed out and they both started laughing at one another. Suddenly a tall, black haired boy scrambled into the infirmary with mischief written all over his gleeful face.

“So?” Percy painted. “Did you actually try and do the piercing?”

To say the least, Will demanded an explanation.

#will solace #will solace bday week #will solace fanfic #Nico Di Angelo #Nico Di Angelo fanfic #solangelo #solangelo fanfic #solangelo fluff #will x Nico #Nico x will #will solace fluff #Nico Di Angelo fluff #percy jackson #Percy jackson fanfic #Percy jackson #Thalia grace #Thalia grace mention #Nico x will fluff #will x Nico fluff

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20moonchild21 · 3 years

Text

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 15

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Bunny!JK x human!female!oc, Jin x female!oc, Leopard!Jin x human!female!oc, Jimin x female!oc, white Tiger!Jimin x human!female!oc, Taehyung x female!oc, black Tiger!Taehyung x human!female!oc, Hobi x female!oc, Fox!Hobi x human!female!oc, JK x Jin x Jimin x Taehyung x Hobi x female!oc

[warnings]

none, just a lot of fluffy fluff

[words]

4.4K

[author]

I hope you all are doing fine! Finally, it’s moving forward in the story and I am so excited what you think about it.

Important information:

For the next few weeks, I will only upload new chapters each Sunday, because I will take my final exams in two weeks, and it would be too much to learn and write at the same time. I am sorry for that, it’s just for about 3 or 4 weeks💜I hope you can understand

If you need more and can’t wait for next updates, you will definitely have to check out Inferiority complex written by @starlightauroras-writes. Her story is super cute and inspiring. Plus, she puts a lot passion and effort into her story, so please, leave likes and messages under her chapters!

Make sure to also leave under this chapter a like or comment! It would make my day!

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 14 ||| chapter 16]

“Are you excited for the day, Kookie?” Hope asked happily, as she walked around the car.

A few days ago, she had promised Jungkook that they would spend a day on their own, because with all the boys home it could get really hectical sometimes. Together, they wanted to go to the park, walking around and maybe making a picknick somewhere. Luckily, Jin had prepared them a few sandwiches this morning.

“Yes, I am.” The bunny stepped out of the car and stretched his arms in the air.

The weather was actually really beautiful, because it was a little bit sunny and warm, but not too warm for wearing a beanie. Like this, Jungkook could hide his ears with no one noticing. When he opened his eyes again, he looked happily at the girl, before he reached for her smaller hand and both of them began to walk towards the park.

As they were walking, Hope noticed for the first time how other people would see them. Since they were holding hands, the people passing by would probably think that the two of them were together in a relationship. Her cheeks went red when she thought about that.

Her gaze fell onto the boy next to her. Jungkook had his eyes closed, as the sun fell right onto his face, letting his skin glow. He looked so healthy and happy, nothing left from the shy, skinny boy she had found in the alley several month ago. She caught herself watching the shape of his nose and lips closely, bringing up the memory of that night where they had almost kissed into her head.

But still, there was one thing missing in the picture of his beautiful face. The poor boy still had to hide his long floppy ear that the girl loved so much. She loved to driver her fingers through the soft, grey fur, all the way up from the base towards the white tip and that back towards his dark hair. In that moment, she wanted to pull his beanie form his head so bad, showing all the people the true boy, but she knew that Jungkook would feel uncomfortable.

“Are you enjoying this?” He suddenly asked and turned his head down towards her, catching Hope completely off guards. “Just walking around, I mean.”

If it was possible, her face became now even more red when she realized that he didn’t meant her staring. She quickly cleared her throat and ripped her gaze away from his face.

“Y – Yes, I do enjoy it.” She said, trying to steady her voice. “It has been a long time since I have found the time to do something like that. But it is nice to actually clear my head like this.”

The boy just nodded, before he squeezed her hand a little bit tighter.

“Me too.” He eventually said after a few seconds of silence. “Especially with you. Doing something simple like this is anything I have ever wished for. Even though I have to hide my ears, I don’t care.”

Hope gripped his hand tighter when he spoke, pulling herself closer to press her face against the soft fabric of his jacket. Even though she had no extra senses to fully smell the boy’s scent, she caught catch at least the slightest hint of his masculine smell. Immediately, her heart began to beat faster.

Together, they kept walking a little while longer, talking about anything that came into their minds, until Hope spotted an empty bank. Both of them agreed to take a seat and take their picknick there. Jungkook placed the backpack he had insisted to carry, because it would be ‘heavy’, in between them, and both began to eat their sandwiches.

“Did I actually tell you that I have a job interview soon?” She swallowed the last piece of bread down and cleaned her mouth with a tissue.

She had told Jin a few days ago, that she applied to that lawyer firm in New York that were standing up for Hybrid rights in front of the judge. Jungkook’s eyes went wide, before a large smile formed on his beautiful lips.

“Are you serious?” He breath out, reaching over and grabbing her hand carefully. “That is great. I am so happy and proud at you.”

Hearing him saying that he was proud of her was making her cheeks blush again. She tried to hide it with a few giggles, making the boy giggling as well. But suddenly, Jungkook stopped and looked pretty serious into her eyes.

“But will you still have time for us once you will have started working?” He asked in a small voice.

“Of course, I will.” The girl slide a little bit closer towards him, giving attention to not let their hands go of each other. “I will always have time for you, Kookie. You guys are my number one priority.”

Jungkook was still not looking up into her eyes. He kept his head down and carefully slide his thump over the soft skin of the back her hand.

“But what if you will find a boyfriend.” He almost whispered. “Will there be space for us anymore?”

Hope chuckled slightly. It was cute how worried and protective the bunny was about his brothers, but inside in, she had known for a long time now, that there would not be a stranger boyfriend in her life. It were the simple things that would make her heart beat faster, like Jin hugging her from behind while she was cooking, or Jungkook holding her hand and sliding his thumb in small circles over her skin.

Lately, she even had taken Jimin and Taehyung into her heart, even though they hadn’t know each other for long. Those boys had made their way into her life and straight into her heart, making it difficult for her to organize her emotions. Could it be possible that she was developing feelings for all 4 of them at the same time?

“I don’t think I will find myself a boyfriend so quick.” She tried to overplay her awkwardness. “But what is about you? Should we find you a cute bunny girl?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s head shot up, and sharp eyes were looking into hers. He squeezed her hand even tighter, before he shook his head wildly.

“I don’t want a cute bunny girl.” He stated with a steady voice, making Hope think that she might had overstepped the border. “Besides, I already have a mate.”

The last part he mumbled more to himself, but Hope could clearly understand the word ‘mate’ from which she didn’t know what it meant. She wanted to ask the boy, but she decided against it, not wanting to upset Jungkook more. It should be a happy day for both of them.

She leant her head against Jungkook’s shoulder an closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun that was shining into her face. Both stayed like that for another few minutes, before Hope felt Jungkook’s nose nuzzling into her hair. She opened her eyes again and looked upwards.

It was just now that they found themselves once again int the same position like they had been a few days ago in her bedroom. Their faces just inches apart, noses almost nuzzling against each other, but this time, there was nothing that could interrupt them.

Slow-motion-like, Jungkook face came closer, until she could feel his hot breath on her lips. Hope could swear that her heart would spring out of her chest any second. Never in her life had she been that close to someone, but in that moment, there was no one she would rather be in that situation as with Jungkook.

Time seemed to stop when their lips met properly for the very first time. Carefully, Hope started moving them after a few seconds, exploring Jungkook’s mouth while steading herself by pressing her free hand against his chest.

A million questions were racing through her head, as Jungkook started to move his lips more passionately against hers. What would happen after this kiss? Would their relationship change now? Would they be together? What would be about the other boys that had a place in her heart?

All those thoughts faded away and her mouth escaped a small gasp when they both pulled away, facies staying close. Both were now looking into each other’s eyes, cheeks red and not knowing what to say.

“Look at those two.” They suddenly heard an older lady say towards her husband, as they were passing by. “Isn’t young love beautiful?”

Jungkook and Hope were looking back at each other, breaking out in small laughers. The boy wrapped his arms around Hope, pulling her closer and leaning his head against her hair. Both of them stayed like this the rest of the day.

“Out of the kitchen, woman!” Jin pretended to scare the girl away with his wood spoon, before she fake-whined and quickly walked out of the kitchen. “I have to concentrate in here!”

She turned her head back and stuck out her tongue, before she looked around for something else to do while Jin was preparing the dinner. She spotted Taehyung, Hobi and Jungkook sitting on the sofa with their fingers sliding over the controllers wildly, while they screamed some comments from time to time.

It was amazing how fast the boys had accepted Hobi in their circle. Just after a few days, they were already joking along with the older boy, laughing and playing together like they had known each other for years. It made her happy. Hobi was a great person, always funny hand happy.

When her gaze fell onto Jungkook, her cheeks redden. The memory of earlier came into her mind, but she had to remind herself that drooling now wouldn’t be suitable. She sighed and was about to sat down next to them, when she noticed that there was one boy missing.

Jimin was nowhere to be found in the living room or in the kitchen, which was quiet strange, because normally, he loved to hang out with his brother and Jungkook, and if he wasn’t with them, he usually would be with Jin.

She walked down the hallway when she already heard a soft humming coming from the two tiger’s room. Hope slowly pushed the door open a small gap, peeking her head into the room. Jimin was laying back down on the bed, his eyes were closed the small ear buds she had given him a few days ago in his ears.

He must have smelled the girl coming inside, because he suddenly opened his eyes and looked towards the doorway. When he spotted the small human, he pulled out the ear buds and smiled wildly at her.

“Hello, Hope.” He sat up straight, as she walked closer towards the bed. “Come and sit down with me.”

Jimin was always a warm and welcoming person. Every time she saw him, he had his wide, beautiful smile on his face, making his eyes from into half-moons and her knees weaken. When she sat down on the bed next to him, he laid himself back onto his back and with his head into her lap.

“Why aren’t you with the others?” She carefully asked him, before she began to slide her hands through his thick hair.

Jimin hummed a little bit, before he closed his eyes again and pushed his hands further into her hands.

“I wanted to listen to some music.” He simply said. “Thank you again for the MP3 player, Hope. I love it.”

They stayed in that position for a little while longer, just enjoying the moment together. She had grown attached to Jimin really quick. His sweet and lovely personality made it hard for someone to not love him.

“Did you had a great time with Jungkook today.” He suddenly whispered into the dimmed room, not trying to hide the smile in his tone.

Hope was glad that the room was a little bit darker, because for the thousandths time that day, her face went red as a tomato. She awkwardly laughed and shifted around the mattress before she could find her voice again.

“I – “ She stuttered, not knowing if she should tell him or not, but it wanted to come out of her. “We – ehm – we kissed.”

She was giggling like a little school girl while talking, trying to cover her embarrassment. Jimin was now chuckling as well.

“I know.” He confessed, and she could practically see the smirk on his face. “You smelled more intensive like him when you came home earlier. I could tell straight away that something happened.”

A gasp escaped her mouth when he told her about that. If he smelled it, the there was no doubt that the rest of the boys had smelled it too. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her away forever.

Before she had the chance to think about it further, Jimin had already pushed himself up from her lap, and was now wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close towards his chest. Instinctive, she placed her head onto his shoulder while he snuggled his head into the creak of her neck, moving it carefully around. This gesture didn’t stay unnoticed by Hope, because she knew this gesture form Jungkook.

“Jimin?” She slightly chuckled as his breath tickled her sensitive skin. “Are you scenting me?”

The white tiger hummed a little bit, causing a wave of shover over her spine, before he pulled away. For a moment, they were just looking into each other’s eyes, before Jimin moved his hands to screech his neck.

“I am sorry.” He quietly whispered, pressing his ears flatly against his head. “It’s just – you smell so strongly like Jungkook and that just triggered my – my instincts. I am sorry.”

Hope chuckled at his cute stuttering. Though they had known each other for a few weeks now, Jimin would still get shy over the simplest things sometimes.

“It’s okay, Jimin.” She said, before he laid his head back into her lap.

As she drove her hands through his thick hair, she sunk back into her thoughts. She had never thought about the boys actually having animal-like instincts. Of course, she knew that their ears and noses were really sensitive, but she had also heard about other – needs – that Hybrids would develop while living together with a girl. Her cheeks blushed immediately when she thought about that.

“What are you thinking about?” The boy in her lap suddenly asked, looking up at her.

With redden cheeks, she quickly tried to find an answer when suddenly that one question popped up in her mind.

“How – how do I smell actually?” That question had been burning in her head ever since she had met the boys. “Do I smell – okay? I mean, do I smell like sweat or something, because if I did it – “

“Do you smell okay?” Jimin had abruptly pushed himself up from her lap and was now facing her directly. “Your scent is absolutely….amazing. You can’t imagine it, but a scent isn’t comparable to – sweat. I don’t know how to describe it, but every time you enter the apartment your scent is flashing me and the other boys. It smells so sweet and clear but also natural at the same time. Just amazing.”

With every word Jimin was using to describe her scent, her cheeks would blush more and more. She would have ever guessed that the boys enjoyed smelling her. Not knowing what to do, she began to twirl a strand of her hair around her finger while starting to laugh awkwardly.

“O – okay.” She eventually stuttered between her giggles. “Thanks, I guess?”

Though it was an uncommon way to compliment someone, she somehow felt proud to hear those words from the male. Never in her life had some boy made a compliment to her. Only her mother had told her often that she was a beautiful, but that was different.

Since she had been living with the boys, she had got a lot of compliments. Jin would often tell her that she was beautiful or that she would be cute when she couldn’t reach the top shelf, because she was tiny. Jimin had told her that he liked her scent, but he had often told her that he liked to hug her, because he felt comfortable around her. Taehyung was another thing. Though their relationship had made much process, he was still more reluctant when it came to compliments. Jungkook on the other hand made a lot of compliments. What she loved that most was that they all really meant what they said, not just like telling a phrase.

When she thought about Jungkook, her thoughts drifted back towards the scene where both of them had been sitting on the bank in the park together. Jungkook had seemed to be pretty upset when she had joked about finding him a bunny girl, before he had said something about ‘finding his mate’.

“Jimin.” It was just now that he realized that she had said his name pretty often today. “What is a mate? I heard Jungkook talking about it, but I didn’t know what he meant by that.”

Jimin cocked an eyebrow up, his ears standing up high in attention.

“He told you about it?” He asked, his voice was holding a hint of surprise and confusion.

“He just told me that he already has a mate.” She quickly answered. “Whatever that means.”

The white tigers chuckled slightly, before he sighed and scratched his neck, obviously looking for the right words.

“A mate is something like – what do you call it – marrying someone?” He began, before he sat up straight across from her. “Or more like a soulmate! You met a special person you love and with whom you want to spend your whole life together. You have no influence on the time you will meet your mate, under which circumstances or who he or she is.”

Jungkook had a mate? Someone he loved? Somehow, that hurt her more than she thought. It was not like she was not happy for him, because everything she wanted was that her boys could feel happy in their lives.

“But – but –“ Her mind was suddenly filled with thousands of questions. “ – what do you mean by who he or she is?”

“It means that there are no rules for finding one’s mate.” While he was talking, a small smile was forming on his face. “Age, gender, religion, race, breed – it doesn’t matter, everyone is just equal. Boys mate with boys, girls mate with girls, Christians mate with Muslims, Hybrids mate with human. Love has no definition in that point. There are even cases where Hybrids have more than one mate.”

Her heat shot up at that statement and her heart was suddenly pounding in her chest. On the one hand, it should make her happy that it was possible for Hybrids to find their mates in a human – like her – because in her heart she had known for a long time that she like her boys very much, but on the other hand, was there actually a chance all of them would feel the same for her too?

“What if one partner doesn’t want to be the mate of the other?” Her voice got quieter and quieter.

“Usually, mates are destined for each other, but of course, there are cases where one partner doesn’t accept his mate.” Jimin began to talk again, and Hope could tell that he was pretty serious about that topic. “It’s one of the worse cases ever. Losing our mate is like someone rips out a part of your heart. It’s very hard to get over the pain.”

Hope gasped slightly. She knew how much it hurt to loose someone you love deeply, but she didn’t know if that was comparably with losing your mate.

“How do you know who your mate is?” She almost didn’t dared to ask more question, not wanting to step on Jimin’s nerves, but somehow she got more and more interested with every new detail about that topic.

“I don’t know about you humans.” Jimin lifted his hand to scratch his neck, a slight tone of red was somehow covering his cheeks now. “But we Hybrids, we can smell it. It is the best feeling ever when you find your mate. It feels like you have thousands of butterflies in your stomach every time you see her – or him! Yeah – ehm – and you just want to be with your mate all the time, hugging him, marking him and just be together. It’s great.”

“Marking?” Hope had the feeling that with every word she got more and more confused.

“Hmm.” Jimin hummed. “It means that you bite your mate somewhere on his neck or shoulder to leave a mark there. When you mark your mate, it means that you will be together forever.”

Every word Jimin was using, she could hear the passion and love he put behind it, just like he had already felt all of that. She wanted to feel that too.

“Did – did you already find your mate?” Actually, she didn’t want to hear his answer, knowing that it would probably hurt her.

Jimin hesitated for a while, before he bent his head to the side, smiling almost unnoticed by her.

“I would say that Tae is my mate in some way.” His eyes sparkled slightly when he talked about his brother. “We are just clicking with each other and I love to hug or to cuddle with him, but yes, I – I think I also have another mate somewhere.”

When he showed her his perfect smile, Hope just couldn’t destroy his happiness by showing him that it hurt her. She just leant forward and hugged the boy tightly, burring her head into his neck.

“I am so happy for you, Jimin.” She whispered.

“Okay, gentlemen.” Jin looked at the 4 boys in front of him, who were sitting on the sofa in a row. “You all know that Hope has her job interview today, which is pretty exhausting for her. Therefore, we will make this evening as relaxing as possible for her. I – “

The leopard was interrupted by Hobi, who was carefully holding up his hand in the air, gesturing that he wanted to say something. He patiently waited for the older boy to give him a nod so he could start talking.

“What is a job interview?” The younger boy asked innocently.

Before Jin could answer his question, Jimin had already bent forward from the other side of the couch to look at Hobi.

“People are asking her a lot questions to see if she is suitable to work in their company.” He simply answered.

The fox cocked an eyebrow up, but eventually, he nodded after a few seconds and turned his attention back towards the oldest boy.

“Exactly, Jimin.” He showed Jimin a smile, before he was about to start talking again, when suddenly Taehyung was interrupting him. “That’s why –“

“Why are you even talking like that.” The black tiger asked with a smirk on his face. “Are we some kind of soldiers now?”

Jin just rolled his eyes. Though Taehyung had laid off his bratty attitude some days ago, he still loved to teas and provoke the people around him.

“Because –“ He locked eyes with every one of them, before he continued. “ – I want you to understand the importance of the situation. Hope is doing everything for us. It would only be fair from us to support her whenever we can. She will be pretty exhausted when she is coming home, and that’s why we will cheer her up with the apartment already cleaned, the laundry washed and a prepared meal. Do you understand? Okay, then let’s go!”

Without any protest, all the boys stood up from the sofa and began to do their job. While Jin and Jimin went towards the kitchen to prepare dinner, Jungkook and Hoseok went towards the storage to get the vacuum cleaner and cleaning stuff, and Taehyung began to collect all the used clothes into a basket to sort and wash them.

When two hours had passed by, all the boys met up in the living room again.

“It looks pretty good.” Jungkook stated, as they were all staring at the set up table. “I think she will like it.”

The other 4 boys agreed with the youngest. They had really put all their effort in preparing a nice evening for them and especially the girl. They didn’t even had to wait long, because all of them were still standing in the middle of the living room when they heard the front door being pushed open.

“I am ba – “ The girl stopped in her mid-sentence when she saw all 5 boys turning around at the same time. “What are you guys doing? Oh no, did you break –“

“Hope!” Jungkook was the first one to break out of his staring.

He almost ran over towards the small girl and threw his arms around her, quickly followed by Jimin who pressed himself between the bunny and the girl. Jin on the other hand waited patiently for the younger ones to let go of Hope, before he pulled her into a tight hug himself.

Hobi and Taehyung watched the scene in front of them in very different ways. While the fox Hybrid stood a little awkward and dumb folded there, not knowing what to do or how to behave, Taehyung held his typical smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hello, human girl.” He smirked, before he stretched out his hand towards her.

“Hello, Tae.” The girl just rolled playfully her eyes but eventually, she shook the taller boy’s hand slightly. “Hello there, Hobi.”

She happily waved at the older boy, before she placed her purse and coat onto the sofa. She took a deep breath and turned back towards the boys.

“Hope, you look sad.” Jimin carefully took a step forwards, while he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Did you not get the job?”

Hope didn’t answer for a moment. She took another deep breath, before she looked up with her big eyes, making the boys believe that Jimin guessed right.

“I – ehm – “ She cleared her throat, before her face suddenly changed and a scream left her mouth. “I got the job! I did it!”

[inspirations ||| recommendations]

@starlightauroras-writes

@wishesunderthestars

@agustdakasuga

@ditttiii

@angelicyoongie

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kylejsugarman · 3 years

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wow i wasn't expecting so much kind feedback from that post :’) below the cut is the fic, “love will not break your heart”. PLEASE remember this was written five years ago and i wasn't expecting to fall back into moral orel but here tf we are ❤️

i. idolatry

"Who does that cloud look like?"

"Umm…" The brunette tilted her head pensively, tracing the arbitrary peaks and valleys of the cloud in question with a critical eye. Her expression of solemn concentration buckled under a luminescent smile as she finally identified the cloud's likeness. "It's Joshua! See the beard?"

"Oh, wow, you're right!" He pointed to an adjacent puff of condensation on the verge of dissipating under the snowy glare of winter sun. "And there's the city of Jericho!"

She giggled in agreement and rolled onto her side; verdant streaks of earth branded her baptism-white cheek. A strand of sandy hair had escaped her new red headband (he had nervously presented it to her and promptly melted at the sight of her grateful beam) and now unfurled down the length of her pearly face. He brushed it back into place, then blushed.

"Uh, sorry."

"It's okay, Orel," she said with an adoring laugh. His timid eyes--coppery pools into which one's best qualities were inevitably reflected--found her own, then flicked downwards in humility. Though she appreciated his respect for her, the reverence with which he treated her was slightly disquieting. There was something to worship in both of them, something she felt she failed to adequately express. "Orel?"

The eyes, lit dreamily by a refulgent sky. "Yes, Christina?"

She touched a hesitant hand to his face and waited for the momentary tension of his form to abate as he recognized the tenderness of the gesture. There was the inexorable flutter of panic in her gut, as if her father were crouched behind one of Inspiration Peak's many bushes waiting to snatch her and drag her back into the study, but she quashed it readily. Her love for Orel was stronger than her fear of her father and with its pristine power she could have demolished that study with a single fiery glance.

But Christina had always favored creation over destruction, so she leaned over and pressed a soft, pink kiss to Orel's mouth. She tried to whisper "Happy Valentine's Day" to establish her motive, but was immediately silenced as he braced himself up on an elbow and shyly reciprocated the kiss. He tasted like candy heart chalk and mint.

"I love you," he said after he had bashfully withdrawn his head.

The world was shiny and new, the clouds morphing cheerfully behind him into benevolent figures who would shelter the tender bloom of their love. And Christina Posabule reached up to frame Orel's face in her gentle hands and said "I love you too" for the first time.

ii. respect

"Ugh. I never did understand the appeal of French toast."

Dottie scrutinized the buffet offerings, her angelically-proportioned visage contorted into a rictus of disgust. Her plate was sparsely garnished with a serving of greens and a mimosa, which she had already taken a drag from. As she eyed the decadent bricks of syrup-drenched toast, Florence calmly forked an omelet onto her own plate and waited for Dottie to make a decision. The Valentine's Day brunch was rarely an extravagant affair, but there were certainly enough dishes to satisfy even Dottie's impossibly high culinary standards.

"I think French toast is wonderful," Florence said. She expected this remark to be met with a haughty sniff or snide comment, but Dottie abstained. She even summoned a mordant grin.

"Well. I suppose the French are the superior culture for a reason." The blonde delicately pronged a lone slice of French toast onto her plate, taking care to select the most lightly-sugared piece on display. "Alright, I'm done. Quick, before I change my mind."

Florence led Dottie back to their booth, which had been denoted by the placement of their respective pocketbooks on the table (Florence's sturdy handbag looking markedly haggard next to Dottie's designer clutch). The two women supped here together after church, a tradition that had been inaugurated shortly after the Reverend's Easter sermon. Dottie had apologized to Florence in a rare fit of humility and promised to stop berating her roommate for her figure; Florence, ever the victim, dutifully accepted her apology. However, Dottie had surprised her by making a noticeable effort to curb her cruel commentary and even started contributing to the community by taking on sewing projects. Her lovely dresses soon filled the closets of every woman in Moralton--including Florence's. The rather flattering candy-pink wrap dress that Florence was wearing now was Dottie's handiwork, a fact the blonde managed to work into every conservation.

"Darling, that dress is absolutely divine on you," Dottie said, lighting a cigarette.

"Yes, thank you." Florence smoothed down the collar and smiled at the sight of her freckled hands. A modest diamonded band adorned her ring finger.

Dottie noticed her admiring of the piece of jewelry; she pursed her polished lips expectantly. "I really think you should've sprung for something bigger."

"Oh, I think this is just lovely the way it is," Florence insisted. She elevated her hand in order to demonstrate the diamond's iridescence. A slant of noon light caught the mineral and fissured apart into chromatic prisms; diamonded specks twinkled across the laminated tabletop. It was a rather appropriate expression of Florence's own appearance, something the ring's buyer had obviously taken into consideration. "Aren't you happy with your ring?"

"Me? Why I'd rather die than have this ring taken off my finger." Dottie inspected the arrangement of jewels gracing her own finger, which were independently lustrous and set into an ingot of platinum. The colors matched the sheen of her blonde curls perfectly.

An inexorable smile pressed dimples into either of Florence's cheeks. "You really like it?"

Dottie flicked her cigarette ash into the table's decorative vase with an insouciant tap of her manicured finger. Her expression was characteristically enigmatic ("you can't let them think you're interested," she had lectured Florence as she practiced looking jaded in the mirror), but the favor with which she regarded the ring was unmistakable. Finally, she said "I love it" in an emphatically decisive voice tempered with genuine affection. An affection that Florence reciprocated with an echoing of the sentiment before cutting into her omelet and watching Dottie slice willingly into a piece of French toast.

iii. requited

"Um, anything else, Steph?"

The tattooed, pierced, and freshly dyed vision of beauty glanced up from her book, eyes lightly glazed from an hour of reading. She had salvaged a rather intriguing volume of essays about evolution from a seedy bookshop in Sinville and was determined to complete the tome before it could be snatched and tossed on the literary pyre. Forghetty's wasn't exactly the ideal location for intellectual pursuits, but Stephanie had abandoned the shop at the mere notion of Karl and Kim Latchkey requesting some disgustingly romantic apparel for the holiday and decided that she deserved some discounted Valentine's vodka for soldiering through the week unscathed.

"Another vodka would be great."

Dolly smiled warmly. "Coming right up."

As the blonde scooped ice into a tumbler, Stephanie became suddenly and acutely aware of the candy-pink heart branding the small of Dolly's neck. Despite having stitched ink into countless arms and sides, she was shocked by the heart's symmetry. It was absolutely flawless.

"One vodka," Dolly said, sliding the glass across the condensation-varnished bar. Her fingers were impossibly long, slender--piano fingers. Stephanie could not fathom why these trivial details fascinated her so, but she was suddenly pressed to learn more about the daisy-pretty bartender who had dutifully refreshed her tumbler for the past hour. Starting with that immaculate tattoo.

"Thanks. Uh, Dolly? Where'd you get that ink on your neck?"

"Ink on my--?" She palpated her neck in befuddlement before remembering the previous night and giggling wanly. "Oh, it-it's just pen. My friends thought it would be funny if I actually got a tattoo, so they had the guy draw it on, but I… I chickened out, I guess."

"Oh."

"It's not that I don't want a tattoo," Dolly quickly amended, tipping Stephanie's colorful arms an appreciative nod. "I'm just kinda chicken about needles."

Stephanie quirked an amused eyebrow. "So you would get a tattoo?"

"Well." She sheepishly wrung a damp cloth out over the bar top and made a concentrated effort to appear occupied by the menial task. "Maybe."

"That heart's pretty cute. I think it would look nice back there."

Roses bloomed in Dolly's porcelain cheeks. Though her friends had never abstained from making passively nasty comments about Stephanie's unusual appearance and proud deviance from Moralton's constrictive status quo, Dolly had always fostered a secret respect for her. There was something alluring about Stephanie, something that begged back story: Dolly longed to read the text that accompanied the illustrations trellising her arms like ivy. "You think so?"

"Definitely. And if you're scared of needles, I've got an assistant who could probably distract you," Stephanie added with a playful smirk. Orel had curbed several customers' needle anxiety with breathless sermons about the incredibleness of Jesus and anecdotes about his occasionally distressing adventures ("and then I died! Three times! It was neat!")

"Would you really give me a tattoo?" Dolly asked, equally hopeful and horrified.

"If you're up for it."

Dolly twisted the cloth in her hands for a moment. The yearning to know Stephanie--to know every corner, every fold--was blossoming urgently in her chest. She wanted more than a tattoo. She wanted to familiarize herself with the inky mysticism enshrouding Stephanie Putty and if that meant romance, if that meant public scorn and disappointment and disgusted looks, so be it. She wanted Stephanie. She wanted all of her.

"Doll?"

"Y-Yes," Dolly sputtered, visibly flustered. Then she grinned cautiously and set down her hands on the bar top, allowing Stephanie to admire their delicate whorls and pearly nails at a closer proximity. "I'd love that."

iv. infatuation

"I know you think I'm stupid, Marionetta."

They had cloistered themselves away in a small clearing that provided some margin of protection from their schoolmates' scorn. A mild sky opened above them, achingly empty, painfully wide. As he stared into its doleful depths--oppressing himself not to betray the shame making dewy his eyes--he recalled the passages he had studied about the atmosphere. His old teachers had refused to teach the subject, citing the lack of a Heaven in the textbook's diagram of the Earth's atmosphere. He imagined it was sandwiched between the mesosphere and thermosphere, an impossible realm illuminated by auroras and burning space debris. But in the absence of substantial evidence that such a place existed, he was content to call the clearing Heaven, as long as Marionetta was there.

The girl smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her dotted skirt. Even

#syd squeaks #moral orel #me putting dolly and stephanie and florence and dottie together my MIND!!!#thank y'all for all the sweet messages though

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mmvalentine · 3 years

Text

The Pianist pt 2 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Read part 1 part 3.

Jude was having a good day.

The landlord had been ignoring her emails, as usual, but somehow Cardan had had a quiet week this week. She would have thought he was away, or sick or something, had she not been seeing him with his friends in their regular booth at the diner. And even those pricks couldn’t get her down today.

She whistled as she tied on her apron.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Van commented.

“I am,” Jude replied. “Someone left me fifty bucks this morning.”

Van whistled. “Damn, which cafe has those kind of tips?” he asked.

“None of them,” Jude told him. “I was busking at the subway station.”

Jude always spent her free time busking. It was mostly for fun, but she did derive an amount of satisfaction knowing that any of her money, even if it was just a few dollars at a time, came from her singing.

“Well I hate to bring you down, but you’ve got table 13 this morning.”

“I know,” Jude said, sticking her notebook in her apron pocket and picking up the coffee pot. “But you know what? I don’t care today.”

Jude strolled to her table, and stared around at them with a grim determination. The table's usual occupants stared back.

Nicasia, a beautiful dancer with blue hair. Twenty years ago, her mother was the principal dancer at New York City Ballet, and she now sat on the board of directors.

Valerian, an actor who got into a punch up the previous year when he lost a role and nearly got expelled. His parents were wealthy and connected enough that he wasn't.

Locke, who wrote plays and scripts and was vaguely known to dabble in music and dance as well. His father was a Broadway producer and a few of Locke's works had been staged in small theaters already.

And Cardan. The beautiful, talented, awful, hedonistic pianist himself.

"Hello and welcome to Elfhame's diner, what can I get for you?"

She didn't bother with the sickly sweet smile she usually put on for customers. These people were the worst, and she would simply maintain her dignity and not let them get to her. The fifty dollar note was warm in her bra, like a good luck charm.

"Hey... Jude," Nicasia said, peering at Jude's nametag like they hadn't been coming to this diner and served by her several times a week for the past four years. Valerian burst into a Beatles chorus. "You know," she continued, "I've seen you around."

Jude rolled her eyes. "Yes, I've only been working in this diner since you guys started coming here, so you've probably seen me before."

"No," Nicasia said. "Not here."

"Well," Jude responded impatiently. "I also work at Mab's Tavern and Java Island. Girl's gotta eat. I'm 'around'."

But Nicasia shook her head. "No honey, I've seen you seen you. You sing outside the Lincoln Centre subway station."

Jude froze. It was more than confirmation enough for Nicasia, whose eyes took on a predatory glow.

"It is you, I knew I recognised you from somewhere!" Nicasia leaned her chin in her hands. "Sing us something, darling."

"You want music? The jukebox is over there," Jude told her. "Now what do you want to eat?"

"Oh come on," Valerian said, crossing his ankles on the corner of the table. "Let's have a little live entertainment while we eat!"

"Yes," Nicasia purred. "You know, if we like it we might even put a good word in for you at Juilliard."

"I'm sure she's wonderful," Locke said. He looked at her. "Jude, don't listen to them, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Cardan said nothing. Just sat with his head on the table, probably nursing a hangover.

"Maybe you could sing us the specials," Valerian suggested. Then he frowned. "Although, if you're terrible, that might put us all off our appetites."

"You can all order now," Jude said, smiling widely, "or you can all have sloppy joes. I don't care one way or the other."

"Touchy," Nicasia frowned. But then she ordered, and the boys followed suit. Valerian broke out in another rendition of 'Hey Jude' as she walked away, until she heard Cardan tell him to kindly shut up. Jude could not comment on his acting ability, but Valerian was a god-awful singer.

/////

Cardan sat with his head on the table and his hangover shoved up his nose.

This week he had actually gotten some sleep. Just not in his bed- he had fallen asleep on the floor most nights, listening to the woman's voice in the downstairs apartment. He had even tinkered the song she sang on the piano once or twice, but then felt so desperately pathetic that he went out with Locke and Valerian last night and they all got black out drunk and woke up in Nicasia's room. Cardan had no memory of going there, but they had all trudged out for a late breakfast this morning and he had no idea how the rest of them were so chipper.

He didn't know what they were talking about but at some stage Valerian started singing- if you could call it that- and Cardan raised his head long enough to order. "Coffee. Just... coffee."

The waitress nodded, and for a second she looked hauntingly familiar. But then she turned on her heel and was gone, and Cardan's forehead found the cool metal surface of the table once more.

Cardan had not heard back from his parents, but now that he knew they were going to be in the audience for his next performance, he suddenly had no idea what to play. He had originally planned to compose something for the occasion, but inspiration had dried up, and he had barely played anything all week. Had very little motivation at all, and might even have just crawled into bed and stayed there had his friends not insisted on dragging him around with them.

The next day they decided to look for the waitress around the different subway stations.

Lord knew why; Cardan hadn't been paying attention because he didn't care much what they had to say at the best of times let alone when the outside air itself seemed to rub harshly against his skin. It was times like these that he had to rather wrack his brain for why these people were his friends in the first place. He supposed they had always been his friends, they were the children of his parents' friends and somehow this made them his own friends by default. Or something like that.

At any rate, he was towed along the subway line, from station to station and in general spending much more time underground in the space of an hour than he had otherwise done all year. Cardan had no idea why they were so determined to find the waitress- she was attractive enough, but Nicasia and Valerian in particular had previously been very vocal about their criteria for who they hung out with. People who worked in diners tended not to make the cut.

Finally, when he could smell more of the Harlem River than he wanted to, Nicasia stopped them.

"There she is," she breathed. And at first, Cardan was just happy to stop walking. But then he heard her.

She was singing 'Ain't No Sunshine,' but Cardan knew her voice from a different song. A wordless lullaby that floated up through the air vents and sang to him at night. A cure for the insomnia that had plagued him for twenty years and then some. He'd know it if she were singing Old MacDonald.

Jude. That was her name, he realised with a jolt. And more surprisingly, she was gorgeous. How had he not realised before? Cardan watched her sing, with her eyes closed and her hands moving, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The other three giggled on the sidewalk, and as the song came to an end, they tripped forward to talk to her. Jude looked around with a smile that could break a man's heart, as the crowd around her applauded. And then she looked up and saw his friends, and her smile vanished. Saw him, and he had no idea what to do once her doe brown eyes were on him. He just turned, and walked quickly away.

Okay okay I think we have direction! Let me know what you think!

****

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler

#jurdan #jurdan fic #tfota #mine

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