#Wrote this in the car with like no internet so I hope it’s ok

[sillygoose067]

Charles’s Angel(s)

Ch. 22

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Author’s Note: Some references taken from the C2 videos.

You make it to the studio in time after sending Charles off to roam around the city and get some of his errands done.

“Ok so, so I have the basics for this track done, but I need your expertise in some of the mixing”

“Yeah, and I have most of the lyrics done, I just need you to check if they sound good with the track”

“Actually Hyunjinnie wrote one of the new songs, and he has some specific concerns, so if you can help with that…”

You head to the recording studio with Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin to smooth some things out. 

While you record the guide version, you make some necessary improvements and set the guidelines for the vocals. “So cover me nooooowwww”

Hyunjin asks if you could try the line out in a falsetto and a belt. The belting ended up sounding better. “Also, I want to add to ad-libs, but I’m not sure where I should incorporate them”, he tells you. 

You try out some new techniques and conclude the recording session in high spirits. 

…

Meeting Charles at an internet cafe, where he’d found a simulator to occupy himself, you stood behind him, an Iced Americano in your hand to combat the heat outside. 

“Wow, is this what you see when you’re in the car?”, you ask.

“For the most part, yes. Do you want to give it a try?”

“Sure, but I can tell you right now that I will not be very successful.”

He guides you, giving directions from behind you as you steer. “Yes, that’s good, see? Quite nice and smooth… BRAKE!”

…

That night, your mother calls. “Hi Ma! I’m on a work trip right now”. She nods in understanding. You see Charles out of your peripheral looking at you confused. “The boy I was telling you about is here with me.”

“Ooh can I FaceTime? I want to meet him!”

“Hold on, let me check.”

You mure the mic and turn to Charles. “My mom called”, you explain. “She wants to meet you”, you whisper excitedly. “But only if you’re alright with it. I can tell her no right now.”

He bites his lip, weighing his options. Then nods. “I just don’t want to disappoint your family. Do you think she’ll like me? I’m not even dressed up right now!”

“That’s fine”, you soothe him. “I think she’s just excited to meet my first boyfriend.”

“Ok”, he agrees finally. Climbing onto the bed to lay next to where you are in your stomach, he mentally prepares himself to not meet your parent’s expectations. 

You unmute the phone and tell your mom to switch to FaceTime. 

The camera turns on, and your sister appears behind your mom. “Hi! Oh my god, so you are real!”, she says. You glare at her. 

“Hello”, Charles awkwardly waves at the phone. “I’m Charles, nice to meet you.”

“Hello Charles”, your mom greets him warmly. “I’m glad to finally meet the man who has managed to break my daughter’s dry spell with men.”

“Ma!”

Charles laughs. That cheeky little fucker. 

“It’s truly an honor. I have you and your husband to thank for creating this beautiful young woman for me to pursue.” He grins. 

“Oh, you’re quite the sweet talker. Well, I’ll have you know that you are one of the most gorgeous specimens of men I’ve ever seen. I hope your babies carry on the genes forever.”

“Maaaaa!”

“Shhh! Give me this sweet boy’s number so I can have him spy on you for me– I have a feeling we’ll get along fine.”

“Ew, bye.” You cut the call. “Uuuggghh. That was so embarrassing.”

Charles just smirks at you. “I thought it was quite enjoyable actually.”

“That’s it. I’m done. I can’t believe she would say that, oh my gosh…”, you face plant into the covers and wail.

You feel the weight shift from the bed– Charles must have gotten up. He makes for the bathroom and you think you’re finally free to wallow in self-pity when you hear, “Oh, Chéri, don’t forget to share your mother’s number with me”. You grab a pillow and hurl it at him, narrowly missing when he closes the door before the object can make contact.

[daisynik7]

WIFEY! i woke up rolling off my bed and landed on a back scratcher that was on my floor and now there’s a dent in my knee LMAO. your wife is not only a sleepy, silly girlie, she’s also a clumsy girlie. i’ve also been incessantly crying over your messages it’s fine 🥲

but i’m sorry to hear about that, i’m glad to hear it was almost and not did get into a car accident, even then i don’t know if you suffered from whiplash or anything but as long as you're safe and unharmed, i’m happy. i do feel bad for the person who randomly broke down, especially on the freeway, hope they’re ok too :( 

i have family that lived in the midwest and can attest to how brutal the cold and snow is, and yes driving must’ve been an absolute nightmare! another reminder to my snookums to stay warm on all fronts bundled up, and eat warm foods (soup!!!!!!) 🥰

AND THANK YOU for hosting the swap and for your recs! given your impeccable tastes i know i will enjoy them thoroughly, and i can’t get over how well-detailed your descriptions of each and why you love them, i’m excited to read them! 

i have to say one thing i’ve always loved about your fic reblogs is your in-depth analysis i.e. the screenshots and highlights of particular excerpts that stood out to you and loved, there’s truly no one like you 🥹 and for you to that to something i wrote??? I’M HONOURED, AND I’M SOFT NOBODY TOUCH ME I’M A SOBBING MESS wait no please hug me 😭 i am absolutely in love with your love and care for others, and that has shown in your feedback to others and your check-ins, thank you for your sweet words and support <3

as i’m typing this i just got your message, (don’t feel pressured to respond to this!) do as you please, i’m honoured, thank you for the follow!!! <3 and once again thank you for your sweet words on How It’ll Be, i’m shrieking!

 i hope the rest of your week is productive and your weekend is well spent and restful! i’m so proud of you!!!! in the meantime, i’m sending you all my love, all my kisses, all my hugs, and cuddles 🤍🤍🤍

also, my internet is being a little silly billy so i don't know if this message was sent the first time, i'm hoping not 🫠

lastly, i’d like to inform you that you have permanent residence in a very special place in my heart where I have you safely tucked in and you are not allowed to leave (there are snacks, i promise) 🫢 in all seriousness, hope you’ve had a wonderful day and night and i love you endlessly my darling wife, treat yourself kindly, always! 🥰

my sleepy, silly, clumsy, beautiful wifey! I'm sorry your rolled off your bed, but I'm assuming it's because you had such a pleasant dream, so I hope it was at least worth it. and if not, I'm kissing the little dent on your knee to heal it if it isn't fully healed already!

I'm totally safe from the near accident, it sounds more dramatic than I'm making it sound and the person who stopped seemed to be fine physically. hoping they were able to move to safer location and get their car fixed because it didn't seem like anything was wrong (which is good).

thank you for participating in the fic swap! I still have yet to read the rest of the fics you recommended, been a busy and distracted girl this week, but they are still on my radar and I'm very excited!

I try to leave more in-depth comments whenever I can just because I feel like I can better express myself doing that instead of spamming the tags LOL. I got inspired by another mutual I have on here who does it often, so I can't take credit for it! I just want to show how much I appreciate the writers on here because I feel like we (as a Tumblr community) don't do that enough!

I never want to leave this safe space I have in your heart! 🥹 I am the most cozy and comfortable there and I'm not leaving for anything (so you better get used to me lol). I love you so so dearly my snookums, always thinking of you even when I'm away! I hope you had a relaxing and/or productive weekend and that these last few weeks of 2023 go by smoothly. love you so much thea ♥️

[ingek73]

Experience: I make prosthetic arms with Lego

I tested one by hitting it against a wall – the wall took the damage

David Aguilar

Published: 11:00 Friday, 04 November 2022

I was born with Poland syndrome, a disease that prevented the formation of my right arm and pectoral muscles. I was bullied at school. People said things like, “It’s not your fault that you were born like this, it’s your mother’s fault.” Or asked me to catch a ball with my right hand. Stupid comments that wouldn’t affect me now, but back then they struck very hard.

I would play with Lego a lot as a child. I got my first kit when I was five. My parents realised it was a great way to improve my dexterity. I just kept going, building planes and cars. I even built a guitar.

I was obsessed with videos on the internet about Lego Technic – a more advanced range – and how to use it to build stuff like guns that shoot rubber bands. When I was nine, I built my first prosthetic arm from Lego Technic. My first prosthetic was a simple box that I could fit my arm inside.

I lost interest in Lego for a few years, but when I was 17 I picked it up again and made another prosthetic that I called the MK-1, which had fingers, a motor and a pressure sensor. It had a movable elbow joint and grabber that could pick things up.

Before I built my first arm, I had already decided I didn’t need a prosthetic. My parents and I had looked into getting one a few years earlier, but I realised they were very expensive and weren’t provided by the government. So I thought, maybe I don’t need one because I’m doing just fine. I look a little bit different, but that’s OK. It’s kind of ironic that I don’t use the prosthetics myself, but by the time I started making them I had already adapted to my condition. I make them because it’s fun.

I have since made several new versions. My latest model, the MK-V, is the most advanced and comfortable yet. It has a control unit that can send and receive orders from sensors on the arm to the motors, with cables that contract like muscles.

I named my prosthetics MK in tribute to the comic book superhero Iron Man and his MK armour suits. My creations are very strong and robust. I wanted to check how easy it was to break a prosthetic, so I started to hit it against a wall – it was the wall that ended up damaged.

We made a video about my creations and it went viral. At 23, I’m the Guinness world record-holder for being the first person to build his own fully functioning prosthetic arm using Lego bricks. A documentary has been made about me and my dad, and I have just written a book about my life.

I have a YouTube channel, Hand Solo, where I share videos of my work so others can learn. I was slightly worried about using the Star Wars name, but my dad wrote a letter to Disney, which owns the rights, explaining my situation and it agreed to let me keep the name.

A lot of people don’t have the resources to buy a prosthetic because they can be very expensive. Some prosthetics are cheaper than others, but the top-notch advanced models can cost as much as an Aston Martin. So my goal is to try to make some that are more affordable. I am currently studying bioengineering, and through my studies, I hope to help more people.

When I was 19, the parents of an eight-year-old boy with phocomelia had seen my work and got in touch to ask if I could build him a prosthetic. His arms and legs are underdeveloped as part of his condition, so I made two prosthetic arms using Lego units costing only €15. His smile when he used them for the first time was very empowering. I’ve had many requests to make prosthetics, but I have to spend time thinking about the design and utility.

I don’t like injustice in life, such as bullying, or the fact that someone may have to pay up to €100,000 for a prosthetic. People shouldn’t pay that much – it’s not a luxury.

To me, my creations don’t necessarily tell the story of how I overcame my condition with Lego; they’re about how I overcame bullying and being upset almost every day at school. Now I feel as if I am Thor, and my prosthetic creations are my hammer.

• As told to Daniel Dylan Wray

[theprinceofflies]

Can i hear about henrik comforting chase? Literally hullets will work i just, im having a rough day and things keep piling on and i need something.

Henrik sighed and patted Chases back. ”It’ll get better.”

Chase‘s body shook as more sobs came from him. “No it won’t doc. I’m sick of people saying that.”

Henrik frowned. “Last year you wouldn’t come out of your room. You were drunk nearly everyday.”

Henrik took a deep breath. “Look at you know. You haven’t had achohal in a week and you‘re talking to a therapist.“

“You’ve gotten better. I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way. You’ll get weekends in a month. Then you can see the kids. I know it hurts. But it’s better.”

Chase laughed. “Yeah.”

”it’s ok to have bumps.” Henrik said and stood up. “Come down in a little bit. I’ll have dinner ready in about ten minutes. It’s pulled pork.”

Chase smiled through his tears. “Yay. Thanks Henrik.”

”My pleasure Chase.”

[beautifulhigh]

I'm catching up on Tumblr - some rare downtime on this holiday which is supposed to be all about me having downtime! - so I'm pretty sure it's not fic writer appreciation day anymore. But every day should be fic writer appreciation day so there's that.

I was tagged by @sapphire11​ who is a gem for still tagging me in things, even when I take an age to get around to them.

My favourite five of my fics

1. The tender things are those we fold away (911 Lone Star, Tarlos)

That had been a surprise, a good one. An amazing one, really, and something Carlos had privately cherished for years. New York Firefly became someone who had made a difference to his life and Carlos would carry that gratitude with him for the rest of his life, along with the knowledge that this was some random guy on the internet who posted pictures and videos on a website which was infamous for its explicit content. He was some firefighter in New York, being himself and being amazing while doing it.

Except he wasn't.

New York Firefly, the man who'd changed Carlos' whole life and outlook without even realising it, was TK Strand and he was sitting in Carlos' living room.

And Carlos wasn't quite sure how he was still remembering to breathe.

The fic I wrote in a week because the Discord crew made a comment about TK having an Only Fans account. This was so much fun to write and I loved playing in the season 1 timeline.

2. Life, believe, is not a dream, so dark as sages say (911 Lone Star, 126 fire fam with a side of Tarlos)

Carlos had gotten to know TK intimately well over the last few years, in more ways than one. He knew how to read the slope of his shoulders to know if he was angry, sad, or overwhelmed. He knew how his mouth quirked up when he was teasing or playful or flirty, he knew how his chest flared with pride or defiance. He had seen him suffering and joyous and every emotion in between. Even from halfway across the room, seeped in the situation they were, he could read TK. He knew that look of horror and realisation, knew that TK understood something that he didn't.

He wished they could talk, swap notes on the situation. They were always better problem solving together, even when the issue wasn't in the other's area of expertise. TK had listened to Carlos talk through situations and cases he'd been involved with over the years; Carlos had listened while TK had talked about procedures and treatment options for patients in the field. They'd learned from each other in that time which had been half the reason he'd been confident to help treat Kyle's wound.

He wondered if TK had a plan, or an idea of what was coming next. If they could talk then maybe they could work it out, he could help or do something to get everyone out of here. The itch within him to help was almost unbearable: he was more than his career but it was also part of who he was.

He wondered if TK was as scared for him, as he was for TK.

Ah, the bank fic. God this one was hard going but it was so much fun to publish it and to see people enjoy the action and drama. I loved working out how each of the characters could play to their strengths, how they could work together, all when they weren’t able to talk to each other.

3. In the burned house I am eating breakfast (911 Lone Star, Tarlos - Carlos centric)

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Carlos says, his eyes wide with fear. “I’m not ready for people to know but you were going on about us maybe getting together and I love you but not like that and I couldn’t not tell you and—”

“Carlos, it’s OK,” Jessica says. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you think your parents will OK with it?”

“I think so,” he says. “I hope so.”

Jessica leans in and gives him a hug but she doesn’t smell like he remembers. She smells of smoke and something metallic and she’s cold and hard to the touch.

“You need to work out what you want,” she says in a voice that isn’t hers.

God the love I have for this fic is feral. Rafa made the comment about wanting Carlos getting hurt on the way to the wedding, we all want a Carlos Begins, and my brain went “hey, how about we have them both?” and this was the result. Written in one day because the idea was just there, fully formed, and I just love it. A lot.

4. Rumours (Emmerdale, Robron)

"No.  Pat... my real mum, she was Divinus.  The crash killed her outright, that's why she died, and she never got a chance to tell Dad what I was.  But Mum – Sarah – she knew.  She saw some of the symptoms I guess.  She cut her hand on a knife and I just... fixed it.  Didn't think twice about it apparently, just held her hand and fixed it.  I don't remember much about what I did, but I just remember looking at the cut on her finger and seeing what the problem was, knowing I could put things back together.

"After that she took me to the doctor's and they confirmed it."

"You make it sound like an illness: symptoms and doctors."

"Curse more like," Robert said sadly.  "This isn't something I wanted, Aaron. I've worked so hard to not let this define who I am.  I don't want to be the Divinus everyone says they know, I don't want people to see me as a commodity or a secret weapon.  But like I said to you yesterday, I just want to be myself now, with you.  And this is who I am.  What I am."

My Emmerdale Big Bang fic and the longest one I’ve ever written. The world building I did for this fic, the detail and planning that went into it, the fact that so many places in this fic (especially the places in Ireland where I am right now) are real places. I put months into this fic and I’m still really proud of it.

5. Exponential (Emmerdale, Robron with a Robert focus)

6.

"Why do I feel like you're always hiding something?" she asks.

"Because you don't trust me," Robert replies.  "And without trust we can't survive."

It's always easier when it's always their fault.

Speaking of being proud of a fic, this one was the most technically challenging. I remember driving to work one morning, mulling over the concept I had of writing a fic to explore Robert’s bisexuality and the impact it had on him and his relationships over the years. And then I had this line about how his love for Aaron just kept growing exponentially. Which then turned into a structural idea where each part would have a word count double of the last part. And so it went, exponentially.

Since I’m super late to this I’m giving YOU the excuse you want to post the five fics of your own that you love. Yes, you. Go for it, you wonderful writer you.

[evermoreholland]

Paper Rings | Tom Holland

summary ❥ it’s your anniversary and you propose to tom with a song.

warnings ❥ fluff

word count ❥ 2,152

a/n ❥ you can listen to paper rings by taylor swift while reading this because this is obviously what it’s based off of lol. also, this was edited by my good friend @tefilovesreading! 

Today is your second anniversary with your boyfriend, Tom. The past two years have been the best of your life by far. You have had your fair share of relationships, but Tom took you by surprise in his love for you. You were a singer and it was difficult for you to pursue relationships, but Tom understood you because he has gone through similar. You would often write songs about your experiences in relationships. You have been writing a song for Tom for a while now and you thought that today would be a perfect day to show him.

Tom knows that he wants to marry you. He can’t imagine a life without you in it. He has been thinking of how he was going to go about a proposal for months now and he realized that your second anniversary would be the perfect time to confess his never-ending love for you and his commitment to be yours forever.

Tom picked out a ring for you many months before today, without your knowledge. The two of you had talked about marriage before, so a proposal wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. Tom called your mother, sisters, and even got his own mother’s opinion about an engagement ring for you. He finally found the perfect ring to propose with.

Tom made dinner reservations at your favorite restaurant tonight. He planned to spoil you the entire day, making sure that you knew that you were his queen.

Tom rises early. He lifts the blankets off of himself and steps out of bed. He tucks you back under the cover gently, not making a sound. He tiptoes to the kitchen to make you a cup of your favorite tea. He fills the kettle with water and then places it on the stove. He turns to the refrigerator to take out some of your favorite fresh fruits as a part of breakfast. He prepares toast as well and then he sets it all up on a tray to bring to your shared bedroom. He walks to the room and finds you still sleeping peacefully. He places the tray on the bedside table beside you and then leans to kiss your forehead. You were a light sleeper so the action woke you up almost instantly. Your eyes open and you see your boyfriend preparing something besides the bed.

“Morning,” you whisper. You toss and turn until you eventually sit up. “What are you up to?”

“Happy anniversary, my love,” Tom says and sits on the foot of the bed. “I made you breakfast.”

“Thank you, love. Happy anniversary.” Tom hands you your mug of tea and you take a sip. This was exactly what you need to start your day, which a warm cuppa. “This is probably the best cuppa I’ve ever had.”

Tom giggles at your compliment and he blushes. You just have that charming effect on him. “Well you are my best girl, aren’t you?”

You smile at your lovely boyfriend. “I guess I am.”

You and Tom eat the rest of your breakfast in bed together. Tom insists on feeding you to be romantic and you hesitantly accept. After, you put on a sundress that Tom purchased for you for today; a pink flowy sundress with strawberries on it. You match it with a pair of cream color wedges.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Tom compliments when he sees you walk out of the bedroom into the living room where he was sitting on the sofa waiting for you. He’s wearing navy slacks with a light blue short-sleeve button-down shirt. His hair is gelled back, which you hated because you couldn’t run your fingers in his beautiful chestnut-colored locks. “Absolutely stunning.”

“You look gorgeous too.” You walk towards your boyfriend and take a seat beside him on the sofa. You take his hand in yours and you can feel how sweaty his hand was, but you decide not to comment on it. To be honest, you didn’t think much of it anyway. “What are our plans for the day? I have something for you, but I want to give it to you later.”

You wrote Tom a song in an attempt to propose to him, and you were hopeful that he’d say yes. Although you did like tradition, you want to pop the question to your boyfriend, and what better way to do it than what you know best; music.

“Oh, you do? What is it, love?” Tom was not a fan of surprises and for almost every occasion he would try to pry his present out of you.

“You know that I’m not going to tell you,” you reply.

“It was worth a try. I was thinking that we can try strawberry picking,” Tom says and then kisses your cheek. “How does that sound, darling?”

“Sounds wonderful, Tommy,” you mumble. You kiss him and then get up from the sofa. You hold your hand out for him and say, “Let’s go, baby.”

“Let’s do it.”

The drive to the strawberry field was full of giggles, music, and love. You get to the field and Tom opens the car door for you, as per usual. He grabs the basket from the backseat and he guides you to the field. Tom takes photos of you dancing through the field and picking strawberries. He didn’t want to forget this moment, he couldn’t forget how beautiful and ethereal you look in this moment.

You get back home and wash the strawberries that you picked. You cut some up for you and Tom to eat. You gather by the sofa once again while Tom turns on your favorite film. You pull out your phone to text your best friend, Natalie, to set up the backyard for the proposal. Natalie and Harrison knew about your plan to propose to Tom and set up a stage for your small performance.

Tom cuddles beside you after he presses play on the television. “Who were you texting?”

“Just Natalie,” you answer vaguely. You didn’t want Tom to catch on or possibly find out about your plan. “Just chatting.”

“Ok,” Tom says, not buying it completely but he didn’t push. “After the movie, we’ll go to dinner, yeah?”

“Gotta show you something first, baby.”

“Tell me what it is,” Tom groans. He nuzzles his face into your neck and kisses it. “Please spill.”

“That’s not going to work with me, Holland. Now, let’s watch the film, silly.”

“Fine,” he says.

The film passes by fairly quickly. You clean up the living room with Tom, and then you tell him to wait in your bedroom until you text him to come outside. “Why must I wait in our bedroom, darling?”

“I just want to make sure that everything is perfect first,” you reply as if it were obvious. “Please don’t peak.”

“I promise that I won’t, angel,” Tom says and then kisses you. You cup his cheek and pull him closer. Your lips linger on his for a moment before you pull away. “What was that for?”

“I just love you, alright?” You choke up a bit. Thinking about what you were about to do made you emotional. You have never been in love with someone like you were with Tom. “You mean the world to me, Tommy.”

“I love you too, darling. You’re my entire world.” Tom always knew what to say and he gives you the reassurance you need. You pull away from him and walk towards the yard.

You finish setting up everything for the proposal and set up the projector for the slideshow. As the song plays, you planned on showing a slideshow of photos of you and Tom. You send a quick text to Tom telling him to come to the backyard. You hear him come outside and soon enough, he is standing in front of you.

He notices your display. He notices the decorated deck mimicking a stage with flowers surrounding it, white roses to be exact. He notices your microphone and speaker. “What’s all this, love?”

“I wrote a song for you,” you began, but you pause to rub your hands against your dress. Nerves were building up. “For our anniversary. It explains how I’m feeling.”

You see Tom smile at your explanation. “Let’s hear it then, baby. Whenever you’re ready.”

You prerecorded the acoustics and harmonies, so you would simply just turn on the speaker to play the music. “The song is called Paper Rings. I hope you like it.”

You turn on the speaker a pop upbeat sound fills the air and you immediately feel at ease.

The moon is high Like your friends were the night that we first met Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

As you were singing, you think about the memories that you and Tom share. You remember meeting him at an outdoor pub. You were first introduced to Harrison, Tom’s best mate. They were stoned, to say the least, but it was still probably one of the best nights of your life.

The wine is cold Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street Cat and mouse for a month or two or three Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night (Oh!) Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life (One, two, one two three four!)

Tom looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world, yet he doesn’t know what your next lyrics would be. He didn’t know that you want to marry him as much as he did.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams Oh, you're the one I want

He begins to pick up on what you’re telling him, and it warms his heart. His eyes begin to water as he watches perform for him. You look very gorgeous too.

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool When you jumped in first, I went in too I'm with you even if it makes me blue Which takes me back To the color that we painted your brother's wall Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws We wouldn't be standing here so tall, so

Kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night (Oh!) Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright Three times 'cause you waited your whole life (One, two, one two three four!)

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams Oh, you're the one I want

I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

You wrap your arms around yourself for emphasis and Tom giggles gently. He is crying at this point and you feel yourself tearing up too.

I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays Wrap your arms around me, baby boy Uh huh

You sing the chorus once more, and you begin dancing along with the music and Tom couldn’t help but smile at you.

You're the one I want, one I want

You finish off the song and you do a little bow as Tom claps for you. You walk towards him and he wraps his arms around you. “I loved that, baby,” he whispers in your ear.

You look at him and notice the tears streaming down his face. You wipe them away and say, “So?”

“So?” He repeats, not fully understanding where you’re getting at it.

“Will you marry me, baby?” You ask.

Tom smiles and instead of answering, Tom reaches for something in his back pocket. He pulls out a velvet ring box and gets down on one knee. Tom opens the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yes it does,” you giggle. “I guess that we both had the same idea.”

“It’s not a paper ring, though,” Tom says, referring to your song.

“Well, I do like shiny things,” you joke. “I’d be honored to marry you, Tom.”

Tom slips the ring on your finger and stands up to kiss you. This moment couldn’t be more perfect.

“Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, lover.”

~

Tagging: @canwekissforever-hazzy @storybookholland​ @petesrparker​

[strong-as-a-tree]

Levi x Handmaid!reader (The Handmaid’s Tale x SnK - crossover) // Part. 2

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader (also Erwin but not romantically)

Disclaimers: Considering what the Handmaid's Tale is talking about, expect to have some shocking scenes in this. If you are not sure, please look out for a summary of the show on the internet before reading. This story will contain sensible topics if you are not comfortable with the followings, please don't read this story ♡

Also, yeah the characters will be slightly OOC, because of the nature of the story I couldn’t do it differently, I know Canon Erwin would never endorse Gilead, it literally hurts me to write him as this disgusting Commander... Sorry in advance for any Erwin’s simps !

TW: Emotional Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Female Oppression, Minors DNI (This chapter might be really triggering for some people, I will put a TW before the most sensible scene, please don't hurt yourself by reading something that may trigger you ♡)

Word count: 1,303 words MASTERLIST

Lovely people: @hybrid-huntress​ @rapsgoddess​ @gothiccii @omlbarnes​ 

s/k: skin color f/f: favorite fruit

Part 1: Here

You were on your knees in the living room waiting for the Commander, it was already dark outside, and you were waiting for him for quite a while now. It gave you plenty of time to overthink about your situation. In a few moment you will have your first Ceremony, at that simple thought your hands began to shake. Suddenly the door opened, you took a side glance and saw Levi and the Martha entering, you held your breath 'it's happening' you thought. Levi looked tensed too even if he tried to hide it, how could he not be? He was a driver, it's not like he ever thought he would have to help someone ra- for a Ceremony...

Finally Commander Smith entered the living room, you quickly looked back at the floor not wanting to meet the man's eyes. You heard him heading towards the fireplace in front of you and taking the Bible that was locked in a little box, women weren't allowed to read in Gilead, it's been so long since you ever read anything you were not quite sure if you were still able to read to be honest. "Let's read a verse before proceeding; 'And when Rachel saw that she bare Jacob no children, Rachel envied her sister; and said unto Jacob, Give me children, or else I die. And she said, Behold my maid Bilhah, go in unto her; and she shall bear upon my knees, that I may also have children by her. And she gave him Bilhah her handmaid to wife: and Jacob went in unto her.’". The Commander closed the Bible and put it back in the box, he headed towards you, and helped you stand up by taking your hand. He leaded you to his bedroom, the entire time not letting go of your hand, your whole body was already shaking, you could feel Levi following you.

Commander Smith motioned you to sit on the bed, he then looked at Levi, you saw that smaller man was hesitating, but like you, he seemed to not have a choice and after closing his eyes for a second he sat on the bed, behind you.

⚠ Graphic Sexual Abuse Scene, skip if you don't want to read this ⚠

The Commander was standing in front of you, unzipping his pants, with a little push on your shoulder he motioned you to lie down. Your head was in between Levi's legs, you closed your eyes and put your hands up on the black haired man's legs. Levi's surprisingly soft hands were holding your wrist. You felt the Commander lift up your skirt to your waist and take out your panties. Your eyes still closed, you held your breath and felt the Commander entering you. Your whole body tensed at the man's back and forth movements. A few tears escaped from your eyes, you opened them to see Levi looking down at you with a mix of horror and distress in his eyes. You pressed your lips together and willed yourself to not let out anymore tears. Levi's grip on your wrists got tighter as the Commander's pace got faster and faster. Levi was still looking at you, if left like his gaze was locked in yours, locked in this humiliating, disgusting moment. With one last stroke you felt the Commander cumin into you. You heard the man in between your legs zip up his pants."

She needs to stay like this for a moment. Watch her." said the man as he left the room.

⚠ End of the scene ⚠

Levi let go of your wrists and with a quick movement of his hands he covered your lower half with your skirt. You felt numb, tears finally streaming down your cheeks silently. Levi wiped them with his thumb, the black haired man had a frown on his face, you both stayed there for a few minutes, Levi wiping your cheeks every time a tear was leaving your eyes. No words were exchanged but you felt a little bit safer, knowing that someone seemed to see how fucked up all of this was. After this he escorted you back to your bedroom, the Martha was already waiting for you there, Levi left you with her, before leaving he whispered to your ear "Don't let them see how much they broke you...". You spent the night in your bed, the Martha running her fingers in your hair, "My name is Ruth", an almost unnoticeable smile appeared on your face, you weren't supposed to know her name, back in the Red center you remembered in how much trouble an handmaid got because she said her name to someone, "My name is Y/N..." you whispered back as you closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep.

-- TIME SKIP --

Levi's words kept resonating in your head, since the Ceremony you didn't have the chance to talk to him, the Commander gave him a lot of work. You could see the already noticeable dark circles under his eyes get darker as the days went on. As for yourself, after this traumatic night you were expected to go on with your days like before, your body was on semi-automatic at first, you woke up and helped the Marth- Ruth in the kitchen and then you went running some errands with an another handmaid. You couldn't go alone, it was ruled in Gilead; handmaids have to be accompanied with an another handmaid if they have to go out. Even if you knew they made this rule so you could monitor each other, you liked to know you weren't alone in this mess.

Ofgrisha was already waiting for you at the gate, the sun was out today, a breath of fresh hair met your s/c skin that was shielded under your white bonnet. As you headed towards your shopping partner, you heard a vacuum noise coming from your left, when you turned your head you saw Levi vacuuming inside the car's trunk. For a short second your eyes met, you felt the unexpected urge to let him know that you were ok, even if it wasn't entirely true, so you gave him a small smile, hoping he would know what you meant, and that he would maybe care? You didn't get the chance to see his reaction, as you were already at the gates now, "Blessed be the fruit" greeted you Ofgrisha. "May the Lord open." you answered back and started walking by her side.

"Ofdaniel is pregnant...", your eyes widened, "Really? But she has only been assigned to her family not so long ago...", Ofgrisha chuckled "Well, good for her, she will be spoiled for the next nine months, I told her to enjoy it while it last!". You nodded at her statement, despite how messed up her words may seem, in Gilead being a pregnant handmaid is the best situation you could ever be in, during all the pregnancy she'll have more food, no work to do and... no Ceremonies. You finally arrived at the store, a few handmaids were shopping, all of the labels had drawings instead of words. You got everything that Ruth asked you to buy, as you counted down the tokens you had left you realized you had one left to buy a fruit. As you looked at the fruits in front of you, your mind suddenly craved for f/f, but as your hand went on to pick one of them, you saw apples in the corner of your eyes.

When you arrived back at the house, you stopped next to the car, the front door was open. You looked around to see if anyone could see you, no one was in sight so you quickly took the apple that was in your bag and placed in on the driver's seat.

I'm not gonna lie, it was a very difficult thing to write, I hope I didn't triggered anyone and that I wrote this in the most respectful way possible. Part 3 coming soon... If you have any questions/suggestions/request my ask box is open ^^

[taramaclaywasaterf]

Hey guys, I know I said I was taking a break. And I am. I’m not actually, like, back back. I just need to vent, I guess.

For those who don’t know, my grandfather committed suicide. He’d been battling lung and stomach cancer for years, and the pain had gotten so unbearable that I guess he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been in and out of the hospital for years, and the whole month leading up to his death, he was home maybe 4 nights total, the rest spent in the hospital. My dad found him. We’ve been grieving together. It’s been hard.

My family doesn’t really get along that well. Basically just me and one of my cousins are really close, but that's it. My grandfather was kinda the glue that was keeping everyone together. His death was kind of like the final string that was tying us all together being severed.

I don’t know. The police had to come. It was really really bad. They had to make sure he wasn’t murdered.

I just hope it was quick. I hope he’s with my grandmother now. That she was waiting for him on the other side, wherever that may be. That he’s not in any pain anymore. That he knows I love him so fucking much.

As for me, I just feel…I just feel fucking numb. This happened two days after the anniversary of the death of my best friend, and less than a month after the death of Trevor Moore, a comedian whose sketches made me laugh during the worst times of my childhood and whose sudden death really fucked me up.

I kinda just shut down. I didn’t really cry at all the first day. The second day all I did was cry. After that, its like my body physically stopped letting me feel anything at all. I’m just numb. And tired. And my fucking head hasn’t stopped hurting.

I walked around his house and got some things I wanted. Some old photos. Cards I made him when I was little that he kept all these years. Some love notes my grandmother wrote him when they were young. His favorite hat. I found a photo from his wedding to my grandmother, and its now hanging above my bed. Its crazy how much I look like her. How happy he looked to have her in his arms.

I also brought home his cat. I was terrified he wouldn’t fit in with my two cats and dog. But after a bit of a shaky start, and a lot of hours spent sitting with him trying to get him to trust me, he’s settled in. My grandpa rescued him from a shelter when he was a few years old. He loved my grandfather more than anything. I can tell he’s still mourning him, like we all are. But I like to think we’ve been helping each other get through it. I hope my grandfather knows I have him. That he’s not going anywhere. That he’s safe with me, and he’s happy and warm and loved. He’s curled up on my lap right now as I write this. He’s purring quietly.

I miss him. I wish I told him more that I love him. I wish I spent more time with him. I wish I could’ve at least said goodbye. I’ve been through a lot of grief in my life, and it never fucking gets easier. I wish I could take this feeling out of me leave it somewhere for a while. I wish I could fix things. I wish my dad didn’t have to see what he saw. I wish I could make it better for him. I wish this wasn’t how things were.

As for how I am right now, well, I’m laughing. Hysterically. And crying. A lot. I took a break writing this post because it was getting too hard, so I distracted myself by watching dumb videos on my phone. Until this video of Trevor Moore popped up in my Youtube recommended:

And now I genuinely can’t fucking stop laughing. Like, holy fucking shit, Trevor. You really had a way of making jokes that are flat out prophetic, huh? Here I’ve been, on the verge of relapse for the past month over how bad your death fucked ME up, and here you are, years ago, calling me out for how completely and utterly ridiculous I am. And the fact that I’m even writing THIS right NOW makes it even worse! Look at me, acting as if you fucking died to make me learn a fucking lesson! As if my own fucking grandfather died to make me appreciate life more! As if my best friend wrapped her goddamn car around a tree just to make me realize how precious fucking friendships are! As if the entire fucking universe revolves around deliberately fucking my life up! Its pathetic! Its fucking tragic and fucked up and absolutely mind-blowingly fucking pathetic! And yet here I am, writing on the fucking internet to you, Trevor, still doing the same fucking thing! And I can't fucking stop laughing, because this is the most Trevor fucking thing I can possibly think of!

Like. I don’t even know what to do anymore, guys. I know I said I’d be taking a break, and I still am. I just needed to get this out. I don’t want to bother my friends with it, they’re worried enough about me as it is right now. They're kinda treating me as if I'm made of glass right now, which I understand, but its still frustrating. I know they just want me to be ok, and just want to keep me from doing anything stupid and fucking up my life again, but still. Being treated like a paper doll at a waterpark is getting tiring. I guess it just speaks to how entirely not-great I'm doing- that even my closest friends aren't making jokes about this shit- they're acting like I'm some fragile fucking child. But yeah.

Again, I know they mean well, and they just really don't want to see me get sucked down into that fucking void again, but I want to be distracted from all the fucked up things in my life. I want to laugh about it, and not be constantly fucking reminded of how bad things are every time I catch them looking at me like I'm some sad little puppy dog they found on the side of the road.

Oh! to top it all off, I got a letter in the mail yesterday. From my mother. Who I haven't spoken to in around a decade, because she was an abusive addict who made my childhood hell. She wants to have fucking coffee and "catch up." Jesus fucking christ, why now. Seriously. Why fucking now? Nothings been released publicly about my grandfather yet- the only people who know about it is immediate family, and everyone on my dad's side of the family fucking hates my mom almost as much as I do, so there is no way in hell anyone told her about it. So this is just a total coincidence. A giant fucking cosmic "fuck you." (Oh, look, there I go again thinking my existence is meaningful enough to the entire enormity of the universe that it would target me specifically to fuck with! Jesus fucking christ!) Like, I swear to god this fucking woman has some sort of alarm in her brain that says "oh hey, my daughter is at one of the the lowest points in her life?? Time to drop on by and say hello!!!!"

Just...I don't even know. Fuck. I don't know how the fuck I'm gonna get through all this shit, yall.

Well. Anyway. Thats it for now.

Find Kony 2012, I guess.

[smediumsmeatbae]

Done With Nice Guys

PAIRING: Frank Adler x Reader  WORDS: 1964 SUMMARY: You're just trying to get some respite from a terrible day when a dude wont leave you alone.  WARNINGS: angst, mentions of injury, swearing, drinking, fluff at the end A/N: This is another submission for the #shamelesshoesforchris challenge by @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18. I seriously cannot stop writing these. 😀 I used the prompts: White knight moment with the quote “We’re not done yet” I want to shout out @what-is-your-plan-today for being so kind and letting me play with her characters a bit at the end of this piece. She wrote an amazing series called Riding High that features Frank Adler and is currently continuing that series with Riding On. You guys might get to see the below story through Frank’s eyes later on… 👀👀👀 Please do not repost this anywhere else without my permission  Likes are amazing. Comments and reblogs are better.�� Tags will be in the reblog. Enjoy!

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Ferg’s. The local watering hole of St. Petersburg. It lent itself to a certain type of atmosphere on a Friday night. A relaxing spot; it was a place where people could grab a beer, watch the game, play some pool, maybe throw some darts as well. It wasn't pretentious and flashy, as most new bars were. It was cool in it's own way when it didn't try to be anything else other than a dive bar by the beach. And while you didn't spend a lot of time in the establishment, much more preferring the comforts of home, you did tend to end up there when you'd had a particularly bad day. This was one such kind of day. 

You sat at the bar near the far end where it was less crowded as you took a sip from your drink and surveyed the people surrounding you. You wanted to be alone that night, just process the day, and decompress. Maybe figure out if giving two weeks at your hell hole job was worth it. Rolling your neck to get out the cricks, you shuffled for your phone in your bag. You shot off a couple of texts to sympathetic work friends and started scrolling the internet. There were a couple of news articles that had caught your attention at lunch and now you actually had time to read them thoroughly. 

You hadn't noticed the banging of chairs, and the barks of laughs that were coming from the other side of the bar just a little too loudly. It was all white noise as you read through the news articles. You perked up your head for a second and looked around to a group of guys seeming to shuffle out to the patio. They looked to be in their early 20’s and probably from the community college down the way. Well at least they appeared to be leaving. You settled back towards your article, almost finished reading it. You didn’t see that not all the guys had gone out towards the patio and that he had noticed you.

“Hey. Hey, baby. Lemme get you a drink.” You heard a slightly slurred speech seeming to be coming your direction. "Hey, sweetheart!"

Internally groaning, you hoped that the advance wasn’t actually aimed at you. Your anxiety was already beginning to spike. You tried to look away from the noise, hoping to avoid them, but the only thing next to you was the wall. You made it your mission to make it the most interesting wall you had ever stared at. No such luck though, as a broad hand plopped on your shoulder and you felt him sit down at the bar stool next to you.  

“What’re you doing sittin’ all by yourself?” 

You could smell the cheap beer and cigarettes practically rolling off of him as he leaned towards you and you were able to get a good look at him. He would have been a reasonably attractive guy, had he not been on his way to being trashed. He had a muscular build and a strong jawline. Dirty blonde hair sat atop his head which was messy, but you weren't sure if that was because of hair gel or because of the alcohol. He had chocolate brown eyes that had a bloodshot hue to them. His face looked like it hadn't been shaved that day and had a slight fuzziness to it. You looked down at his hand that was still sitting on top of your shoulder and you were getting increasingly uncomfortable by the second. He stroked your shoulder lazily with the pad of his thumb, getting himself too comfortable around you. 

“I just like sitting by myself." You answered as calmly as possible. "Thank you for the offer, but I had a long day and just…” “Sweetheart, I just wanna get you a drink, get to know you. Don’t be like that.” “I don’t even…"  “Dave!” He called over to the bartender. “Get me another beer and whatever the pretty lady was having.” “No, don’t get mine.” You called out, a small, irritating tinge beginning to form in your words; tightness beginning to form in your chest. “Hey” The guy scoffed. “Just chill out, it’s one drink. You’d look so much cuter if you took the stick out.” “Excuse me?” You looked at him incredulously. “You interrupted me, you drunk ass.”  “Why are you being such a bitch?” Anger now lacing his words. He turned around to look at Dave and asked him to add that drink after all. 

Well, this guy was really checking off all the boxes on the Nice Guy™ checklist. You were starting to get scared and discreetly grabbed your bag. You hated confrontation; loathed it, in fact. The introvert that you were made you that way and you hoped that you could get yourself out of the situation as quickly as possible while he wasn’t looking. Bag in hand, you went to go past his chair so you could get to the outside, to your car, to freedom, but he snatched your upper arm before you could make it past him. For someone so drunk, he sure had quick reflexes still. You yelped out and winced, gritting your teeth from the sting. 

“We’re not done yet.” His eyes were blazing fire and black, looking at you now with a sneer on his face. 

You swallowed down hard, trying to get rid of the dryness in your mouth, and struggled to pull your arm away. Terror, real terror ran through your veins.  You were picturing yourself ending up on the eleven o’clock news, murdered by an asshole with a cheap beer problem. 

“Yes you are.” You heard a male voice beside you. “Let the lady go, man.”

You looked over to see who your would-be-protector was. You weren’t sure why but it was someone who looked vaguely familiar. You had probably seen him at Ferg’s at some point with friends... Maybe playing pool? You couldn't quite place a name with a face. Unlike the stumbling guy clutching onto your arm as if it was a life force, his stance was steady, unmoving. His body language read the surety of his actions- shoulders tense, eyes focused. His eyes were clear crystal blue and brown brows were furrowed. 

“Mind your business, dick head.” He snapped back. 

“It became my business when the whole bar could hear your conversation.” The man retorted, not losing his cool. “Let her go. Now.” 

Reluctantly, the guy did loosen his grip so that you could remove your arm from his hand and that left you to get out of the way. You wanted to make a break for it, but your conscience told you to make sure the guy who had stood up for you made it out ok. So you went to the opposite side of the bar, nearest the behemoth that was Dave. With you out of his sight, that left his attention turned to the man who had confronted him. The drunk began to stand up, albeit a bit wobbly at first, from his chair. Was he really going to try to stand up to this guy? Yes, the inebriated man was built, he probably had a good 20 pounds on the other one, but your would-be savior had a solidity about him. He looked like he worked hard with his hands for a living. His arms and chest were well covered by taught muscle. 

“What are you, some kinda knight in shining armor?” He snorted. “Fuck you, man!”

Before your protector had time for a rebuttal, the offender made a run for him. Your eyes went wide with paralyzing fear as you looked on. Someone let out a scream. You weren't sure if it was you or another person in the bar. Luckily, soberness was on your hero's side and he easily sidestepped the intruder. Not being able to stop, drunkie smacked into a chair, catching his head on the adjacent tabletop. He groaned out in pain as he held his head on the ground. 

“Jeff! What the hell is going on?” His friends finally came back in from outside of the patio. 

At first, you feared there was gonna be more trouble as they helped their friend to his feet but Dave, the bartender, was quick to jump in. 

“Get him outta here! Your friend is drunk and startin' fights in my bar. Get the fuck out before I call the cops.”

The guys were fast to act, quickly shuffling ‘Jeff’ out and cursing at him for ruining their night. He was going to have quite the headache tomorrow; nursing a hangover and a nasty bump on the head. You didn’t envy him one bit. Your body was shaking from all the adrenaline pumping through you, something you failed to notice a moment ago. Now that everything had slowed down, you were feeling the effects. You sat down on a chair, folding your arms to your stomach. 

“Hey, you okay?” Those ocean blue eyes were now looking at you and you found kindness and worry in them. 

“Yeah, thanks to you. Thank you for helping me. You’re like my hero.”  You let out a nervous laugh as a pink blush settled on your cheeks.

“You’re welcome but I was just doing what any person would do.” He smiled at you, looking slightly embarrassed at the compliment. “My name is Frank, by the way. You want some water?”

You told him your name and nodded for the water. He looked over at Dave who provided you with the drink. Sipping slowly on the water, it calmed your nerves and cooled your body down. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, maybe it was that he was standing there being so chivalrous, so perfect, so... hot. You had to ask him out, right? You sat down your drink and cleared your throat, looking back up at Frank.

“So, Frank. Is there any way I could thank you for your bravery? Maybe treat you to a coffee sometime?” 

You reached forward and put your hand on top of his forearm gently, searching to see if maybe he felt the same. He bristled under your touch and moved his arm quickly away from you, a cough rising from his chest. 

“I… uh, thank you for the offer, but not sure my fiancée would appreciate that.” “Oh, god. I’m sorry.” A crimson blush flushed your cheeks as you pulled your hand quickly away as well.   “Frank!” A voice called out. You looked to see a long auburn and blonde haired woman walking towards him with a worried expression on her face. “Are you okay?” “Yeah Lissy, I’m fine.” Frank wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him, kissing her temple lightly. 

Of course he was engaged. How could a guy who looked like that and who acted like that, not already be taken? You shook your head and smiled, taking your water back up and drinking it down. Frank turned to you and introduced you to Fliss, his fiancee, breaking you from your thoughts. You smiled cordially and shook her hand. You couldn't help but notice how cute they were together.

"Well, I think I've had enough 'fun' for the night." You laughed dryly. "I'm gonna head out. Thank you again, Frank. It was nice meeting you Fliss. You've got quite a guy." 

You didn't miss the pink that was on Franks cheeks as Fliss nodded, agreeing with you. 

The breeze coming off the water felt nice on your skin as you walked toward your car. You would never forget Frank and the way he saved you. Maybe one day you'd be lucky enough to have a guy like him.

[patternsintraffic]

My 100 Favorite Albums of the 2000s: Honorable Mentions 2 of 2

OK. This is it, I promise. At some point I have to stop listing albums from my youth. ...Right?

Seriously, thanks for reading and I hope I either introduced you to or reminded you of some great music from an underappreciated musical decade. I know I enjoyed myself! Next time you hear from me it should be with new music news in tow!

Hotwire - The Routine (2003)

I remember coming across Hotwire at a friend's house while we were in some rarely-visited corner of the Internet seeking out new music. The song was either "Not Today" or "Hands on You" (either would have done plenty to catch my attention) and I made a point to follow the band after that and pick up their first and only album The Routine. The album is classified as alternative metal, but it's not far at all from louder emo acts like Taking Back Sunday, Thursday, or Thrice. Hotwire were on the Ozzfest tour in 2003 and also toured with the likes of Mogwai, Darkest Hour, Killswitch Engage, and Atreyu. It's hard for me to imagine them fitting in with that crowd, as they had such a melodic and pop-leaning side to their music that most of those bands lack. Put them on a few tours with those aforementioned emo bands and I think they gain a much larger following. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.

Jonezetta - Popularity (2006)

Jonezetta was one of the few Tooth & Nail bands from this decade that didn't make a big impression on the scene. I couldn't tell you why, because Popularity is full of danceable, infectious pop rock that easily stands toe to toe with its contemporaries. "Get Ready (Hot Machete)," "Man in a 3k Suit," and "Backstabber" are painfully radio-ready, as are most of the other songs on the record. There are so many alternate universes where one of these tracks catch on and Jonezetta is a household name, rather than fading into obscurity after their quietly-released second album.

Mae - The Everglow (2005)

Here's a Tooth & Nail record that took off. The Everglow is deserving of its scene classic status; a concept album with 15 tracks of uplifting and catchy melodic rock. The songs are triumphant, anthemic, and inspirational, and there are no real weak links in the tracklist. For some reason I never quite claimed this album as my own and developed a deep personal connection with it. I think the praise for it was so effusive that it turned me off; I was averse to following popular trends in that way. But my college bandmates loved it and it was often blasting in the car while we drove around campus or to and from band practice. I will definitely be picking this one up on vinyl the next time it is pressed so I can spend some more long-overdue time with The Everglow.

Manic - A Strange Audience (2008) [Pictured: Another New Home (2007)]

I decided when compiling my original list that I would only include albums that were officially released. But when I expanded to honorable mentions I had to include this album that was recorded for Suretone/Geffen in 2008 and never saw the light of day. I have a pretty wild history with this band, starting, once again, with DC101's New Music Mart. In 2003, they featured "No Words" by a band called Bemus. It took me quite a while to hunt the song down, but once I did it became my favorite song for a while. It was like Incubus with a harder edge, and I couldn't get enough. I followed the band for a few years, checking their website every few weeks waiting for word about an album release. But much to my dismay, it never happened. Bemus dissolved and some of the members went on to form Manic, which released two great EPs in Floor Boards and Another New Home. Again, I waited with baited breath for a promised full-length, and again it didn't materialize. Manic posted on their Myspace page in 2008 that the album they completed, titled A Strange Audience, would not be released by their label, but they would send the tracks to anyone who wanted them via email. I wrote that email posthaste, and soon received 14 masterful spacey/shoegazey rock tracks that were sparse, strange, haunting, experimental, ambient, unique, and captivating. All those descriptors are an attempt to say, it's hard to classify this album. It's not immediate, but it does have great hooks that sink in after a few listens. It's a bit weird, but not so much that it keeps the listener at arm's length. I'm happy to say that I recently worked with YouTuber irreversiblemess, someone who shares my zest for music preservation, to post both A Strange Audience and the unreleased Bemus album on his YouTube channel in full. If I have anything to say about it, at least a few people will take advantage of the ability to hear these gems that were almost lost to time. There is also a full-length version of Another New Home on streaming services which is made up of Manic's two officially-released EPs plus a couple of cuts from A Strange Audience. Neither band nor label seem to be involved in the distribution of that album, so I have no idea how it came to be. But I'm glad those songs are on streaming and encourage anyone to check those out as well. They're great! The Bemus/Manic guys must have been one of the unluckiest group of musicians in history, getting so close twice without ever having a full-length album released. The music reveals that they deserved so much better.

Margot & the Nuclear So and So's - The Dust of Retreat (2006)

I needed a bit of convincing to even check this album out, as I was pretty turned off by the band name Margot and the Nuclear So and So's. But I eventually gave in when I found out some friends were really enjoying The Dust of Retreat. These are mostly acoustic tracks led by the delicate voice of Richard Edwards, and they lope along with an uneasy gait, like you're listening in on an audio diary that wasn't really meant to be heard by anyone but Edwards himself. Songs like "Skeleton Key" and "Quiet As a Mouse" have undeniable hooks, but what stands out most when I think about this album are the unique production choices. There is an eerie undertone of foreboding that hangs over these otherwise beautiful and gentle songs, making for a fascinating and never-quite-comfortable listen.

Midtown - Forget What You Know (2004)

I was familiar with Save the World, Lose the Girl and Living Well Is the Best Revenge, but I never became well-acquainted with either. Midtown's final album, 2004's Forget What You Know, was the one to draw me in on the strength of singles "Give It Up" and "Empty Like the Ocean." These songs have more big rock riffs and bombastic production than the band's earlier emo output, and frontman Gabe Saporta grapples quite a bit throughout the album with religion and the state of our world. By the time you reach the loop that repeats ad nauseam to close out the album a la "Goodbye Sky Harbor," it's clear that you've just heard an important and well-thought-out piece of work.

Saosin - Saosin (2006)

The indie community was shocked when frontman Anthony Green departed Saosin just as they were gaining momentum on the strength of their debut EP Translating the Name. But the band barely missed a beat when the position was assumed by then-teenage vocalist Cove Reber, who more than capably maneuvers through 12 high-energy post-hardcore/alt-rock tracks including standouts "It's Far Better to Learn," "Voices," "I Never Wanted To," and "Bury Your Head." I rarely reach for this one since I wouldn't call it my go-to genre, but I never regret it when I do.

Steel Train - Trampoline (2007)

Before Jack Antonoff was a member of Fun. and then producer to the stars, he headed up Drive-Thru Records pop/rock/folk hybrid Steel Train. I happened to be on a kick with their second album Trampoline when I got my first smartphone, and while playing with all the new features I put mp3s of the album on my phone so I could take it on the go. I never got around to uploading any more music, so every time I went into the local files on that phone I was reminded of this very good album. Antonoff's youthful and urgent delivery is captivating on songs like "Kill Monsters in the Rain," "Dakota," and "Firecracker." The organic instrumentation and often-noodley guitar performances are a far cry from his current output with Bleachers, and well worth a listen if you are a more recent fan.

Test Your Reflex - The Burning Hour (2007)

I don't remember exactly how I came across Test Your Reflex's "Pieces of the Sun," but I was enamored with the blend of '80s pop influence with current indie rock. And that chorus! (*chef's kiss*) The Burning Hour has one of the best opening three-song stretches that I've ever heard, passing the baton from the undeniable "I'm Not Sorry" to the aforementioned "Pieces of the Sun" and then to the slightly quieter and more new-wave-leaning "Thinking of You." While the rest of the album doesn't match the peak of the first three tracks (and how could it, really?), it is full of engaging songs that hint at a successful career to come. Unfortunately, singer Ryan Levine and company could never settle into a groove and consistently build on the promise of this debut album. They changed their name to No Country in 2009, but only ever released some one-off tracks on Myspace. They appeared in the film Jennifer's Body and had a couple of original songs on the soundtrack, but they were attributed to Low Shoulder, their in-movie moniker. In 2014 they reemerged as Wildling, were signed to Warner Brothers, and released a few singles and an EP, but that band appears to now be defunct as well. In 2021 Levine has resurfaced yet again, releasing three singles under his own name. I hope that he can stick with one project long enough to consistently create and release music. He is clearly a talented writer and performer, but all the shuffling and reshuffling over the years has kept the volume of his output pretty low.

This Providence - Who Are You Now? (2009)

Who Are You Now? is This Providence's final full-length album, and probably their least celebrated. But I'm a sucker for these sugary pop rock tracks, even when the lyrical content gets a little shallow. When I started my career, I had a CD player/clock/radio at my desk, and the radio signal in my office was iffy at best. I brought a handful of CDs into the office, including this one, and it was the album most often soundtracking my accounts payable duties at a volume low enough to stay contained to my cubicle. Honestly, I just skimmed through the album for the first time in years and I was immediately singing along with every track. Hooks abound! I think I've just rediscovered a love for this album in real time. It probably should have been included in the top 100. #justiceforthisprovidence

[domesticated-feral]

5 times Isaac tried asking Scott out on a date and the 1 time he didn’t have to || Scisaac Week 2020

A 5+1 trope fanfic, written by yours truly, Tyler. Rating: General WC: 2412

You can also read it on my AO3

Summary:

Today is the day, Isaac will ask Scott out, nothing can absolutely go wrong, right?

Sunday

“So today is the day?” Erica said, jumping up to sit on the kitchen island.

“Yeah, I’m going to ask him today,” Isaac said, “I also found out his coffee order, so I can give him it while I ask.”

“He’ll say yes,” Erica said, taking an apple from the bowl of fruits.

“I hope he does-” he glances at the clock- “oh, it’s almost time, see you later, Erica.”

“You better spill the beans later, Lahey!” Erica shouted as Isaac closed the door.

Isaac runs to the coffee shop, hoping Scott would be coming on time and not a second early or late.

He enters the shop and scans the room for the half Latino boy. So far, his plan was going to plan. Isaac strolls up to the counter and orders Scott’s order that he had byhearted and his usual order. He pays and goes ahead to wait at the pick-up line.

As he takes the two coffees and turns around, he is met with Stiles.

“Stiles, uh, good morning?” Isaac said.

“You don’t usually come here,” Stiles said, cutting to the chase, “what are you doing here?”

“Oh, just you know, getting coffee for Scott, I was going to ask him something,” Isaac said, walking with Stiles to a table.

Isaac didn’t notice the small step and he stumbled to the floor, accidentally throwing the coffee in front of him. He hears someone groan in pain from the hot coffee and he looks up from the floor to find that he accidentally threw the two coffees in Scott’s direction.

“Oh no, Scott, I’m so sorry,” Isaac said quickly getting up from the ground.

Everyone in the store was staring, Isaac stood staring at the mess and Scott had coffee all over his jeans and shirt, Stiles just stood, speechless.

“It’s- It’s alright, you fell, you didn’t mean to douse me in coffee,” Scott said, “I should go get cleaned, these stains don’t get out easily if they dry.”

“I’m sorry, I completely ruined your shirt,” Isaac apologized again.

“Isaac, it’s fine, also,” Scott said, walking closer to Issac, “what was that you wanted to ask me?”

“Uh, nothing, I didn’t have anything to ask you,” Isaac said, his brain short-circuiting to ‘get-the-hell-out-of-there-mode’, “I have to go, I’m sorry, again, really. I am.”

Isaac quickly walked out of the shop and didn’t stop walking until he was in the loft. Erica was on the couch, lying down as she scrolled on her phone.

“So, whatever that went down did not go down to plan,” Erica said, looking up at Isaac sensing the huge amount of embarrassment and discontent from Isaac.

“I spilled coffee and I walked out of the shop like a bloody idiot!” Isaac said, pacing around the loft, fidgeting with his hands.

“Spilled coffee? I don’t see a stain on you?” Erica questioned.

“Not me, I spilled coffee on Scott, two hot coffee spilled all over him when I tripped!” Isaac ranted.

“Sucks to be you, I guess,” Erica said, going back to scrolling on her phone.

Isaac huffed and went to his room.

Monday

Isaac pondered up a way to ask Scott again. A little coffee mishap shouldn’t get in the way of the pursuit of his crush. Waking up to a disgruntled Boyd making pancakes for Erica at 4 am gave him the best idea.

As the sun rose up and got warmer, he went to Scott’s house as he still was living with his mom until the paperwork for the apartment would be complete.

He gets in with the spare key to the back door and started cooking up pancakes. This time, there was nothing to spill and surely nothing could go wrong.

He made 9 pancakes and used chocolate chips to spell ‘D A T E  W / M E ?’ on the pancakes, a letter on each of the pancakes. He sets them on the table and turns around to make two milkshakes for him and Scott.

Melissa walks into the room, ready for work.

“Hey, Sco-” Melissa stopped, realizing it was Isaac, “Isaac, you’re here early, how did you get in?”

“Back door,” Isaac said, concentrating on making the milkshakes.

“Ooo, pancakes! Fine if I take one?” Melissa asked.

Isaac subconsciously nodded and Melissa takes three and heads off to work. He finishes up the milkshakes and turns around to see that the previous ‘Date W/Me?’ pancakes now spell, ‘A T E W E ?’

He couldn’t do anything but stare at the pancakes as he heard Scott come down the stairs.

“Morning, Isaac, whatcha got there?” Scott said.

“Uhhh,” Isaac stammered.

“Ooo, pancakes and milkshakes, thanks!” Scott said taking one pancake and biting into it.

Scott looks up at Isaac who looked like he was going through a software update, “you alright?”

“Just peachy, I’m going to go now,” Isaac said as he quickly left the house, with another failed attempt under his belt.

*

Back at the loft, Isaac told Erica and Boyd what happened and all they did was laugh.

“Atewe? ATEWE?” Erica howled through her laughs.

“Yep, that’s what it said, I’m just going to hide in my room now,” Isaac said.

Even if Isaac closed the door to his room, he still heard Erica’s howls of laughs echoing through the hallways from the living room.

Tuesday

Today was going to be different, Isaac knew it. He was going to walk over to Scott’s house and just say it straight to his face. Nothing could ever go wrong with words and Tuesdays were his lucky days. It was a new day and Isaac psyched himself up.

“So, Scott’s petsitting Fluffy today,” Erica said at the breakfast table.

“Fluffy?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah, Stiles’ pet, fluffy,” Boyd said.

‘Huh, must be a dog like Prada or something,’ Isaac thought, ‘a dog can’t get in the way of my plan, they can’t. They’re a dog!’

“Oh,” Isaac mumbled.

After breakfast, he marched up to Scott’s house and Stiles was on the driveway, starting his jeep up.

“Hey Isaac, bye Isaac!” he said, poking his head out his jeep as he drove off the driveway.

Isaac nodded and continued his way up and into Scott’s house.

“Ok, Scott, I have been wanting to ask you this ever since Sunday, well actually ever since ever and-” Isaac stopped as he looked up to Scott.

“Yes?” Scott said, putting what Isaac assumed was fluffy down in its cage.

“Is that fluffy?” Isaac gasped.

“Yeah, you don’t have anything against boas, right?” Scott said.

“He named his boa constrictor, fluffy?” Isaac said, feeling uneasy being this close to his phobia.

“Yes, so, what is that you wanted to tell me?” Scott asked.

“N-nothing, I have to go do something with Boyd,” Isaac said, walking out the door.

*

“You didn’t tell me fluffy was a boa!” Isaac screamed as soon as he entered the loft.

Erica and Boyd snickered.

“You’re scared of snakes, why would I tell you?” Erica said.

“Boyd! Why are you siding with her shenanigans?!” Isaac asked.

“It’s hilarious!” Boyd said through fits of giggles.

“You guys are the worst!” Isaac sighed.

“Love you too, babe!” Erica said, sending kisses in the air for fun.

Isaac rolled his eyes and went to shake his mind off with a good nature document.

Wednesday

It’s a cloudy day, but if it’s expressed in nature, it’s not hard to miss right? He walks up to the McCall household once again and Melissa was inside.

“Oh, hey Isaac, Scott’s gone to get groceries, he’ll be back in a while,” Melissa said.

“Good, I’m going to borrow your front lawn and the garden pebbles, if that’s okay with you?” Isaac said.

“That’s fine with me, not that I use either of them often,” Melissa replied.

“Thanks,” Isaac said, heading back outside.

Using the garden pebbles, he wrote out once again, ‘Date w/me?’ on the front lawn. It wasn’t nature-nature, but grass and stones are pretty nature-y.

As Scott rolls up in the car with the groceries, Isaac straightened himself up and got ready.

“Oh, Isaac, um, hi again?” Scott said, getting out of the car and opening the trunk.

“Once you put the groceries in, could you step out here?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Scott said, holding all the bags and heading inside.

As he waited outside, the cloudy day quickly became thunderous in a second. The hard rain and wind blew away the rocks, deforming his hard work and all he could do was run inside the house.

Isaac internally groaned as it was yet another failed attempt. He didn’t say anything to Scott while he was there, he was too agitated to speak.

When the rain thinned out, he threaded back to his loft, and his face explained everything to Erica and Boyd.

Thursday

The alarm blared shaking Isaac awake from his dream, he slams it to shut it off, “Scott was about to kiss me and you wake me the fuck up?” he gruffed.

He got up and ate breakfast, three days in a row, his plans have been foiled. Maybe it was time to ask the internet for a foolproof way.

“Roses, balloons, and park at sunset, is that a foolproof way to ask someone on a date?” Isaac asked for the opinion of his packmate.

“That’s basically a date isn’t it?” Boyd said.

“Scott isn’t that oblivious, so yeah, you have my blessing, child,” Erica said, slapping the back of Isaac’s head as she walked in the kitchen.

“Ow, Erica!” Isaac said, touching the back of his head.

“Oh, I just love it when my name is said in vain!” Erica said, sliding up onto the kitchen island.

“You’re such an idiot,” Isaac muttered.

“Hey, at least I’m Boyd’s, he loves his idiot right?” Erica batted her eyes at Boyd who grinned and nodded in return.

*

It was nearing sunset, Boyd was at the park holding his balloon and flower while Isaac made Scott ride with him to the park.

They get off and Boyd hands Isaac the flower and balloon and Scott had a mix of certainty and confusion on his face.

“Scott, please let this not get foiled like the past few days. All I’ve been wanting to say is that-”

Isaac stopped seeing Scott’s eye grow wide and his jaw drop.

“Scott? You okay?” Isaac asked.

“My bike!” Scott said, after squinting his eyes to whatever was behind Isaac.

He takes off as Isaac turns around and sees Scott’s motorcycle that they came on being towed.

Boyd walks closer to Isaac and they watch Scott retrieve the bike.

“He’s oblivious to a T,” Boyd said.

Isaac sighs and walks away, his head hanging low, as he held the rose and balloon.

Friday

“I swear, I am going to rip my hair out from this!” Stiles said to Scott.

“From what?” Scott asked.

“You and Isaac, literally, are you brain dead? Are you?!” Stiles said.

“Stiles, what do you mean? What are you talking about?” Scott asked.

“You really have no idea, don’t you,” Stiles said, not really asking for an answer.

“What?” Scott asked.

“You love Isaac and Issac loves you too, he’s been trying to ask you out all week! Ever since Sunday!” Stiles said, “but you, my best friend, Scott, Scottie, the True Alpha, have been completely oblivious to his attempts!”

“He likes me?” Scott gasped.

“YES!” Stiles shouted, “and Boyd called me today, he said that Isaac hadn’t come out of his room today.”

“Oh, it’s my fault isn’t it?” Scott said, feeling guilty.

“Absolutely, now go, bring him to the lookout point in the preserve,” Stiles said, quickly running out the room.

Scott goes out on to his bike and rides to the loft. He is met with a grumpy Derek who opened the door.

“Derek, grumpy as usual,” Scott said, giving a small smile.

“You caused this,” Derek muttered but let Scott in.

Scott walks in and goes to Isaac’s room. It was dark but with the light coming in from the hallway, he saw the boy wrapped in blankets watching national geographic documents.

“Go away, Scott,” Issac uttered.

“No, I came here to ask you something,” Scott said, going closer to Isaac.

“What?” Isaac asked.

“Would you, Isaac Lahey want to go on a date with me?” Scott asked.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past 5 days,” Isaac said.

“I know, and I’ve been an idiot by being so blunt to your attempts,” Scott said, “I’m sorry.”

“I would actually love to go on that date with you, isn’t it too late though? It’s 6 in the evening,” Isaac asked.

“It’s never too late if I get to spend time with you,” Scott said, inching closer to Isaac who sat upon his bed, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Then kiss me,” Isaac murmured, their lips brushing against each other.

Scott cups Isaac’s face as their lips moved in sync. Scott softly sucked on Isaac’s bottom lip, and Isaac shuddered from the goosebumps going up against his spine. He had been intensely craving Scott’s touch and know that he was finally getting it, his heart fluttered and he felt whole.

Scott and Isaac move away as they huffed breathlessly. Scott had a smile curling on his face and Isaac couldn’t help but imitate it but 10 times bigger.

“C’mon, we gotta go to that date,” Scott said, getting up the bed and holding a hand out for Isaac.

Isaac gladly holds Scott’s hand and he stands up from his bed. Scott gave Isaac some time to change and he comes out to go on the late evening date with Scott.

Erica, Boyd, and Derek watched the two lovers head out, they were finally satisfied that it was worked out.

Scott and Isaac ride to the lookout point where Stiles had set up the mood with a picnic. Candles, sandwiches, and the whole nine yards with romance.

“Wow, this is nice,” Isaac said.

“Yeah, it is,” Scott said, as he held Isaac’s hand and walked with him to the picnic.

They sit down, share sandwiches, and stare at the sunset whilst cuddling in each other’s arms.

“Scott?” Isaac said, looking up at him.

“Hm?” Scott hummed, making eye contact as he stroked the boy’s blonde locks.

“I love you, more than it can be measured,” Isaac said.

“I love you too, Isaac, I love you a lot,” Scott replied, pressing a small kiss on Isaac’s forehead.

[spencer-reids-veins]

Would You Be So Kind? Barista!Reader x Season 5 Spencer Reid

synopsis: you’re one of the baristas at the coffee that Spencer likes to frequent, fluff ensues

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none, just a whole lotta fluff!

You moved quickly behind the counter of the coffee shop you had worked at for nearly 5 years, fixing drinks as if you were in a daze, muscle memory had helped you move efficiently as you worked through the morning line that always formed on Saturdays. You heard the bell at the front of the shop ring as a familiar face entered, a tall lanky man with swoopy brown hair smiled at you as the two of you made eye contact. ‘I’ll cover this one, wait by the pickup station.’ You mouthed at him. He nodded smiling at you and returned with a quick ‘thank you’.

You set to work fixing his usual order, an espresso and a chocolate chip muffin. You smile remembering back to the first time he came into the shop, almost three years ago.

-Flashback-

You were working the register that day, not something you particularly liked but since it was a slow day for customers, you didn’t have to do much. You had actually started to doze off into a daydream until you were abruptly interrupted by the bell at the entrance ringing, signalling that someone had entered.

A tall man with short slicked back brown hair and horn rimmed glasses , dressed in a sweater vest and a brown suit jacket that almost matched his hair walked up to the counter. He seemed nervous, it must have been his first time in the shop. 

You smiled at him “what can I get for you today handsome?” you asked him, the words coming out without anything thinking. Your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment as you realized what you had said. “I’m sor-” You said but he cut you off “It’s ok, just not used to people calling me that.” The man responded, nervously adjusting his glasses. “I um-uh, my name’s Spencer.” He added quickly as he fidgeted with his hands.

“What can I get for you today then Spencer?” You asked him winking. “Um just an espresso and uh..” He trailed off peering into the case of baked goods next to the register. “And a chocolate chip muffin as well please.” 

As you rang up his order you smiled at him “That’ll be $7.48.” You told Spencer laughing softly as he fumbled pulling out his wallet and counted out the change. 

“Thank you very much, I’ll have that ready for you in just a minute.” You told him smiling as you put the money in the register.

-that flashback over, cue more recent one-

After almost two years of seeing Spencer come into the coffee shop and order the same thing, an espresso and a chocolate chip muffin, you had become accustomed to seeing Spencer almost every day. However, suddenly that stopped.

It had been almost two weeks and there had been no sign of him, you had asked your coworkers that had been in when you weren’t working if they had seen him, but none of them could recall Spencer coming into the shop. 

You were starting to worry, worry about this strange man that you had only talked to about what kind of coffee he wanted, hell, you didn’t even know his last name. 

Part of you wanted to dive into the internet to see if you could find any information on him in the hopes of seeing if you could figure the reasoning for his absence.

You were in the middle of making some fancy nonfat oat milk drink when the entrance bell rang, you looked up out of habit hoping it would be Spencer but instead it was muscular dark skinned man. Definitely not Spencer. You sighed to yourself slightly disappointed, not even fully understanding why you were upset, it’s not like you and Spencer were friends, the only time you saw each other was at the coffee shop.

You finished up the order then went to the register to help the man that had entered. “What can I get you today sir?” You asked him, putting on your customer service smile.

“Um, an espresso and shit give me a minute I don’t want to mess up his order.” The man responded, pulling out his phone and quickly dialled a phone number. “Hey baby girl, do you remember what kind of muffin Reid wanted? I can’t remember if he said blueberry or chocolate chip.” He said into the phone. Suddenly the wheels in your brain started to turn and you began to connect the dots.

“Ok thanks princess.” The man said as he hung up and turned his attention back to you. “A-” “Chocolate chip muffin?” You asked him quickly, accidentally cutting him off.

He gave you a surprised look. “Yeah, how did you know?” He asked quizzically. “Just a guess.” you responded as you shrugged slightly. “Is this for a guy named Spencer by any chance?” You asked him hopefully. 

The man looked even more surprised when you asked him that. “Yeah.. how did you guess?” He asked, trying to study your face.

“He came in here like every day, is there something wrong? I haven’t seen him in a while.” You told him, your voice laced with worry.

“He’s um, currently in the hospital, we had an incident at work.” He told you, not sharing many details. 

“I’m Derek by the way, Derek Morgan.” He told you. You introduced yourself and gave him his change letting him know that he could wait off to the side for the order.

Derek’s words get replaying in your mind. ‘He’s in the hospital’ those words filled you with more worry than you liked to admit.

After you finished making the order, you grabbed an extra muffin and put it in the bag with the other one with a few napkins, you knew that hospital food wasn’t exactly five star. You wrote out a quick note on another napkin and slipped it into the bag. ‘Spencer, I hope you’re doing alright. Enjoy the extra muffin, hope to see you soon - Y/N :)’

-Flashback over-

You looked at the clock and realized that you were almost done with your shift, you decided that today would be the day you would actually try to talk to Spencer about something other than coffee. You quickly scribbled out a note to put with Spencer’s muffin. ‘I get off work in like 15 minutes, would you want to go to a bookstore with me? I need to pick up some books and I could use the company- Y/N’ you slipped the note into the bag and set it on the counter for Spencer, hoping he’d open the bag before he left the shop.

You had hardly noticed that 15 minutes had passed by, you quickly slipped out from behind the counter and took off your apron. 

You finished packing up your things and looked around to see if Spencer was still there. You sighed, slightly disappointed when you didn’t see him inside the shop. As you headed out of the coffee shop, you heard someone call your name behind you. 

You turned and saw Spencer running towards you, his hair messy from the cool autumn breeze, you noticed that in one hand he was holding a crumpled napkin, your note. The sight made you smile as he stopped in front of you. “I’m sorry I didn’t see your note right away. I had to do a quick work call and I didn’t see it until after that.” He said, beginning to ramble which made you laugh quietly. “It’s fine, I’m just glad we were able to talk about something other than coffee for once.” You told him, smiling as the two of you started to walk together towards the bookstore that was a few blocks down.

“Did you know that coffee was originally a very religious drink? It originated in Ethiopia, Kenya and Sudan and many Muslim people used it to celebrate Ramadan, they believed that the prophet Muhammed brought humanity coffee as a substitute for wine since Islam forbids the consumption of alcohol.” Spencer told you, his hands moving with his words as the two of you walked.

“I did not.” you responded putting your hand in front of Spencer to stop him from walking directly into traffic. “But did you know that getting hit by a car isn’t the ideal way to spend the first time hanging out with someone?” You told him, only half joking. Your comment made him laugh softly. “Thanks” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed “I get distracted sometimes when I get excited.” He added, his face tinged pink from a mix of embarrassment and the cold.

“Don’t worry about it.” You told him grabbing his hand to pull him across the street after the walk signal lit up.

Spencer seemed surprised at the contact but didn’t say anything as you both made it across the street and to the local bookstore. You didn’t even realize that you were still holding onto Spencer’s hand as you led him inside and over to the fantasy section first.

Once you stopped at one of the shelves, you realized that you were still holding onto Spencer’s hand and quickly let go, embarrassed by your action. You quickly scanned the shelves until you found the book you were looking for. “Bingo.” you said taking it off of the shelf. “Goldman huh?” Spencer asked you, looking at the cover and cracking a smile. “Do you have an issue with S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love Spencer Reid?” You responded as you raised an eyebrow at him. “No none at all, I actually really enjoyed it, I remember reading it when I was six, my dad gave me a copy for my birthday.” He said quickly, trying to backtrack in case he had said something wrong.

“I was just kidding, don't worry.” You told Spencer with a smile as you started walking over to the poetry section, he followed close behind you. “So, romance novels and poetry huh? You don’t really strike me as the cheesy story type.” Spencer mused as you squatted down to grab a copy of A Scattering by Christopher Reid, you laughed quietly to yourself realizing he and Spencer had the same last name. “And what type of book lover do I strike you as Spencer?” you responded with a smirk, interested to hear his response. 

“Well, I would guess more realistic fiction or even science fiction. Many of those types of books can be used as a form of escapism from our daily boring lives. Seeing as you work at a coffee shop and you don’t really seem like a super adventurous person, I’d make the conclusion that you find your adventures in books rather than in real life.” Spencer told you. Your heart dropped slightly as you heard what he said. “Wait you think I’m boring?” You asked him, suddenly upset.

“What? N-no Y/N, I was just saying that people tend to use books as their way to escape-” 

“From their boring lives yeah I heard that.” You interrupted him crossly. “So you think that I have a boring life, is that it Spencer? Is that what you concluded about me and what kinds of books I like to read?” You said as you narrowed your eyes at him, waiting for him to respond.

“I am so sorry if you thought that’s what I meant, it didn’t come out the way I meant it to. I don’t think you’re boring at all, very far from that in fact. You just don’t really exhibit many adventurous traits, you seem like you would find more interest in reading about other people’s adventures as opposed to taking part in them yourself. I’m the same way, books are about the only way I can lose myself and take a break from reality.” Spencer said quickly, trying to undo that damage he had done without thinking.

The tension in your chest started to disappear as he apologized. “I’m sorry, I lashed out at you, I’m not great at the whole socializing thing.” You told him, now embarrassed about yelling at Spencer. 

“Don’t worry about it, I need to work on thinking before speaking. At least, that’s what my friend Derek tells me.” He said waving you off. 

For the next 15 minutes, you and Spencer just wandered throughout the bookstore aimlessly. You watched as Spencer examined each book he took off  the shelves, his fingers following the lines as his eyes darted across the page. ‘Just ask him already stupid.’ you thought to yourself, suddenly you decided to just take the plunge and break the silence. “Hey um Spencer, can I ask you a question?” You asked him. Your words cause his head to raise. “I mean, you just asked me one, but sure, what is it?” He asked you. 

You took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, do you want to get dinner or something together sometime?” You asked him, bracing yourself for the worst. “And you can obviously say no if you don’t want to, I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to.” You quickly added. 

“Like a date?” were the only three words he said in response.

“Yeah- i mean no! I mean, it doesn’t have to be if you don’t it to be, but if you don’t want to I completely understand and-” Your nervous ramble was cut off a pair of lips on your mouth, Spencer’s lips.

The two of you froze in that position for what seemed like an eternity until you pulled away instinctively.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Spencer said quickly, his face turning red. “I just-” You cut him off by moving in to kiss him again. Spencer was surprised but moved his hands to cup the sides of your face, pulling you in closer. 

When you both finally pulled away. Spencer’s face was bright red and he looked down at his hands, embarrassed. “I’ve uh, wanted to do that for a while now.”  He mumbled, now embarrassed

“I have too.” You admitted, your face equally as red.

“So um, do you want to have that dinner date tonight?” He asked you 

“Who said it was going to be a date?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I just thought that,” He said quickly

“I’m just kidding Spencer, a dinner date tonight sounds absolutely perfect.” You told him, smiling which made his body relax. “You really need to stop taking things so seriously Spencer.” You told him, poking his nose gently which made him laugh softly. “I get that you’re a scary FBI agent doctor thing but sometimes you just have to be carefree and in the moment.” You added teasingly, kissing his cheek gently. 

“Wait how did you know I work for the FBI?” Spencer questioned with a confused look on his face. “Google.” was your only response as you kept walking through the store. “You’re kinda popular apparently. With all of your essays and articles and such.” You told him, stopping at a shelf to browse the selection of science fiction. “Wait you’ve read my essays?” Spencer asked you, surprised that you took an interest in his work. “Yeah a few of them, I really enjoyed the one you wrote about how events in childhood can rapidly evolve into behavioral changes into adulthood.” You responded mindlessly as you kept looking at the shelves. 

“Y-you did?” Spencer asked you with a bashful smile, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Yes Agent Reid that’s what I said.” You told him rolling your eyes slightly. 

“It’s Doctor.” He mumbled under his breath slightly, an action out of habit. You turned around hearing his words and looked at him “oh I know that too, it’s just fun seeing you all flustered and embarrassed. You’re so adorable.” You said with a smile and a wink. “And if you play your cards right tonight, maybe I’ll be calling you something other than Doctor or Agent.” You added winking again and giggling quietly as Spencer lost the ability for words, his face bright red. “I um..” Spencer trailed off, not knowing quite what to say.

You quickly realized that might’ve been a little too blunt and began to get embarrassed yourself. “I’m sorry if that made this whole thing weird, I’m not used to how this type of thing works.” You confessed, your face quickly turned a bright red shade which made Spencer laugh and lean in to whisper in your ear. “Well you’ll definitely get used to it tonight.” He said in a voice almost like a purr that sent a shiver down your spine. His words made you turn towards him quickly. “What are you trying to say Doctor Reid? Are you insinuating that you’re going to fuck me tonight?” You responded, raising an eyebrow at him. You had expected him to get flustered again but Spencer did quite the opposite. “Maybe.” He told you with a smirk, causing your face to turn bright red. 

“Come on.” You told him, regaining your composure as you grabbed his hand. “Let’s blow this pop stand.” You said, pulling him towards the register to pay for your books.

A/N: asdfjh this is my first ever time transferring stories from another site and also the first time i’ve really ever used tumblr so i apologize if anything is amiss!-M

[talk-geek-to-me]

Stolen Kiss

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: some bullying, fluff, Flash being the dick he is, 

Disclaimer: Reader is going to have features similar to tony’s. Like his hair and eye color. It took me so long to write this because i realized that while i wrote i edited. And i was having some problems with my masterlist. but the mastlist part is fixed -sorta- and i think it’s time to get this baby out.

Tagging: @hollandroos @parkerpuffwrites

Please send feedback!!

----

Flash didn’t expect you -of all people- to walk into his chem class. You’re Tony Stark’s daughter, for God’s sake, he thought he was dreaming. How can someone as beautiful as you go to Midtown? He watched you scan the classroom, your beautiful eyes landed on him, recognition flashing in your eyes,  making him smile and wave at you.

He watched you make your way down the aisle, passed him, and drop your books on the table as you climbed onto the empty stool next to Parker, who greeted you with a smile and moved the sheet of paper to the middle of the table. Your shoulder brushing against Peter’s as a smile grew on your lips. You brushed your hair behind your ear and pulled it onto your other shoulder, revealing multiple ear piercings. Peter caught a glint of the new helix earring. He gently touched it, seeing as it was still red and healing, as if you had just gotten it done. Which, you did. Seeing how you and Peter interacted, made anger spread throughout Flash’s chest.

“I think you got the wrong seat, there’s one opened next to me.” Flash leaned over the table behind him, making you look at him.

“Hmm... No, not I don’t.” Your smile faltered as your eyes raked over him, disappointment crossed over your face.

“How do you even know each other? Peter’s never been in the same room as Tony Stark,” Flash shot back at you, getting up from his seat and sat down in front of you. He leaned over your desk, into your personal space, causing you to sit up straighter. He grabbed your phone that was laying on the table, clicking the home button. His mood dropped more when he saw a picture you and Peter had taken about a week ago as your lock screen. You and Peter were laying on the floor of your room, making funny faces at the camera.

“Actually, he has.” You grabbed Peter’s pencil and jabbed the eraser onto Flash’s forehead a couple times, grabbing your phone in the process.

***

Peter jammed his keys into the apartment door, sending it opened with his foot. 

“Hey May” Peter tossed his bag on the ground as May quickly swallowed her drink.

“Hey, how was school today?”

“It’s ok. There’s this crazy car parked outside,” Peter froze in place when he saw who was sitting on the couch next to May. His eyes tore away from Tony’s to meet your brown ones, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Oh, Mister Parker” Tony looked over at you, seeing how you became Peter’s distraction.

“Umm.. Wha- What’re you doing- hey, I’m-I’m-I’m Peter,” the words finally coming out of his mouth making you stifle a giggle.

“Tony, and this is my daughter Y/N. She’ll be working with us.”

They went on to talk about the fake grant Peter got. Tony then talked to Peter in private, and you made small talk with May.

“Ya know, I’ve never seen Peter look at someone like the way he just looked at you.” She poured you more tea.

“I-I don’t know about that. He’s- yes, he’s very attractive. But I don’t even know him.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“Give it time” She smiled.

“Alright! We’re in business!! Y/N, let’s go. May, it’s ok we take him for a couple days right? For the internship,” Your father looked at May.

“Yea! Of course!!”

After the fight in the airport, Peter was back in his hotel room when a knock came from the door.

“Just a second!” He flipped off the bed and opened the door to reveal you, in sweats, hair in a bun, sporting a busted lip from the fight, and holding two pizza’s.

“I didn’t know what you liked on your pizza but I got you a pepperoni with extra cheese.” You walked into the room, and placed the food on the table.

That night, you and Peter stayed up, eating pizza and bonding over little things. You watched him talk about the fight, finding it very cute how excited he was.

Little did May know, she’d be right. You two had gotten close, the flirting was nonstop. You’d spend as much time as you could together. You eventually begged your dad to let you transfer schools from the one Upstate -which totally wasn’t your style- to Midtown. Something more you.

***

Flash took the pencil and broke it in half, annoyance filling his eyes.

“C’mon Y/N, you don’t need to lie for Peter. Just, come sit by me and I’ll show you how to make real chemistry.” He picked up your hand and went to kiss it, but not before Peter’s fist collided with his nose. A gasp fell from your lips, eyes widening as blood spilled from Flash’s nose.

“Oh my god!” You looked over at Peter, seeing anger was written across his features.

“I-I don’t- I need to get out of here.” Peter grabbed his backpack and your hand, fleeing the classroom with you in tow.

Peter dragged you down a maze of hallways before stopping in front of his locker. He dropped your hand, and began pacing back and forth. His hands running through his hair, breath quickening.

“Peter, you wanna tell me what the hell that was?” You leaned against the wall of lockers.

“I just- I don’t know- I- couldn’t just sit there! Him touching you! I-I-I couldn’t let him touch you, I don’t want him to touch you.” His voice shaky.

“Pete, hey, stop pacing,” You grabbed his hand, pulling him to you. “He’s not going to touch me. Hell, I would’ve done something if you hadn’t.” Your hand smoothed over the wild curls, eventually settling at the base of his neck, making him look at you. 

Peter felt his nerves begin to calm as he stared into your brown orbs. His hands finding their place on your hips, he gently placed his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes closed at the action, soaking in each others presence. A burst of confidence surged through him, his nosed brushed -almost feather like- against yours. You slightly tilted your head up, lips parting.

Your lips brushed together, causing goosebumps to scatter over your skin. Your fingers found their way back into his hair, his grip tightening on your hips. The shrill sound of the bell filled your ears, pulling you two apart. A groan escaped Peter’s lips as his head landed on your shoulder. Your head leaned against the locker as blush dusted your cheeks, heart racing.

Students had started filling the hallway, chatter came along with it. Peter’s arms had slid around your waist, and his face was now in your neck.

“I have to go to Spanish, but I’ll see you at lunch Y/N.” He planted a small kiss on your neck, which made the blush turn a deeper red. His arms disappeared from your waist, hand dipped down to grabs yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

You watched him walk down the hall towards his Spanish classroom. You turned around, a grin broke out across your face as the memory of your almost kiss played over and over again in your mind. You knew it was going to distract you for the rest of the day. And it did.

By the time lunch rolled around, your were absolutely famished. You were definitely ready for the fries that you knew were going to be on the table by the time you arrived. 

You were sitting at the table with Ned and Peter talking about the latest theory of the new Wonder Woman movie that was coming out. You were dishing out fact, while Ned spews out something he read on the internet.

“Ned, she’s a damn Amazon! Basically a God! She can’t die!” You stood up from the table to throw away the trash that had built up between the three of you. 

“Damn right she’s an Amazon,” A lust filled voice said behind you sending discomfort through you. “Right Penis Parker?”

You turned around, finding Flash standing directly behind you. You took a step back to get as much space as you possibly could. You could see the dried blood on Flash’s nose, a failed attempt to get all the blood off was obviously made.

“You don’t have to pretend to like him Y/N, I know you don’t.” Flash grabbed your hand and began to pull you towards his table.

“Actually,” You ripped your hand out of his grip. “You’re right Flash, I don’t like him.” You walked towards Peter, seeing the pain in his eyes you sent him a wink. You stopped behind his chair, pulled it out -Peter still in it-  far enough for you to take a seat in Peter’s lap, startling him enough to jump and instinctively wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from falling off him. Your arms around his shoulders, your eyes searching his.

Your hand tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, foreheads touching. You were reenacting your almost kiss. Your lips brushed against his, feeling the hesitation, you took a leap of faith. Hoping you didn’t hurt him enough to make him pull away. You lips met his, his grip immediately tightening. Your heart swelling when he cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss. Someone cleared their throat making you pull away. A blush had found its way onto Peter’s cheeks this time. Your foreheads still pressed together, a smile was ever-present on his lips making you smile.

“I’m falling in love with him.”

Part 2

[lolmouseywritings]

Cursed Child

So this is what happens when I move, have no internet access to my computer, draw mdzs and watch Paper Dolls 2 gameplay from CJU on my phone. 

I will now go back to writing the WenWuxian Au. I’ve been working on.

I hope you enjoy this, and if you’re confused, ask away. 

P.S. I wrote this to get it out of my system. First time writing a horror story.

This will be on AO3, I also added the keep reading line

dabaizi: I think this mean brother-in-law. If I’m wrong, please let me know the correct title. I was trying to be accurate.

Summary: Lan Sizhui just wanted to run away. He didn’t realize it would drag him into a curse filled history of Gusu Manor. Running from fierce corpse’s, the ghost general and Yiling Patriarch, he could only hope he can get out of this alive.

Lan Sizhui sighed, his breath fogging up the glass window. He wasn't interested in the passing background, but it was something that got his mind off, as his cousin chastised him.

"Seriously? I know that I run away a lot, but I wasn't expecting you to do it," chastised Jin Ling tugging up his jacket. The chilly air from the mountains of Gusu was unexpected, but it was the place that Sizhui wanted to go.

Twelve years ago his parents passed away unexpectantly from the accident and he was taken in by his A-die and senior. It was fine, he guessed, but in the short while, his senior's health was failing. He was notorious for sleeping in late, but it was apparent that he had trouble getting up. Then he had trouble eating. He wouldn't even drink his favorite wine. Then one day-

He didn't wake up.

A-die didn't fare well, and now he hardly moved from Senior's side.

People called him cursed.

"Come on Jin Ling, no need to be upset, he just needed some space. Right Sizhui?"

"Yeah just ignore little mistress. He was just, if not, more worried than he let on." Then there goes. Jingyi was always riling up Jin Ling. It was a mystery to how they stayed being friends.

"Shut up, you- ZIZHEN! WATCH OUT!" Without question Zizhen swerves, hitting a tree branch and stopping the vehicle.

The boys step out, zipping up their jackets, and look around.

"Hey what the hell was that?" Questioned Jingyi looking straight at Jin Ling.

"There was a deer out on the road."

"There wasn't!"

"There was!" Ignoring the argument, Sizhui looks around and groans in despair. 'Damn the tire is out.' He looks at his phone and wonders just how cursed he is.

"My phone is out, is anyone else's phone working?" Asked Sizhui as the entire group shook their heads. All phones were out of service.

"Dammit! Uncle will break my legs!" Sizhui  patted Jin Lings back.

"It's okay.” Jin Ling shakes it off and glares at him. His stance aggressive.

"You don't get to say that, when you packed up and left. I know shit's hard for you, but it's hard on everyone else too."

"Calm down," Zizhen starts. "I'm sure none of us want to be in this situation. Best bet is to go to the nearest town and call for a tow. We can also call our families and let them know where we are."

"The nearest town is Moling. It will take us at least 2 hours to walk! And it's cold and I know that none of us want to walk for that long!" Gripped Jin Ling. Sizhui and Zhizhen shared glances, thinking little mistress.

"HEY I SEE SMOKE!" Exclaimed Jingyi. The group looks up to see what looks like a dilapidated manor. They agree to separate in groups of two. Zizhen and Jingyi at the car and Sizhui and Jin Ling to walk up to the manor and see if they could make a call. Sizhui would have honestly preferred Zizhen or Jingyi. Jin Ling, however, wasn't about to let him out of his sight. He was way too much like his uncle than he cared to admit.

Not a surprised considering how close the Jiang/Wei siblings are. Walking up the mountain was a tiring endeavor as the steps seemed to never end. It was worth it once they reached the entrance until they realized that no one lived in the house.

"I guess the smoke was just our imagination?" Remarked Sizhui.

"So the four of us imagined smoke coming out of this place." Jin Ling rolls his eyes. A nervous laughter escapes Sizhui at Jin Ling's rebuttal. With a sigh, Jin Ling walks up and knocks on the door. The icy breeze passes by, causing both boys to shiver. The door opens with a creek.

With a hesitant step, Jin Ling goes in.

"Hello?" His voice echoes into the manor. Not waiting for Sizhui, he walks in.

"Wait Jin Ling." He walks up the steps ready to follow his friend. As he steps in, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Or it would have if he didn't feel a sharp pain at the back of his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You promised me!" "W̷̧̎͌̿͌͋̀́ë̵̟́̍̈́̚i̸̩̭̤̦̱̐-" "You promised me they would be okay! AND NOW THEY ARE DEAD!" "Please, listen!" "I'M DONE LISTENING! I'M DO-" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wake up. Junior master, wake up!" Sizhui groans, placing his hand to where his head felt a throb. He felt nothing wet, so that was wonderful news. There was a however a sizable bump on the back of his head.

"What happened?"

"Quick get up!" He looks up and notices that the voice he kept hearing was nowhere to be found.

"Where are you?"

"I'll tell you but you must leave the room or else-" He hears the heavy dragging of chains. It was his only warning before he hid into an old decorative closet. He held his breath as he took a peak thru the crack.

Pale skin, clumpy lumped black hair, poor posture and old tattered clothing. The chains were black, looked as heavy as they sounded, and covered in blood. 

Sizhui had to cover his mouth to hold back the bile as the heavy scent of iron, which he was certain was not only from the chains, filtered into the air. He waited as the groans and dragging chains disappeared into the next room. He gave himself some time to get out.

"Magnificent job," he heard the voice as he looked around to discover its origin. "Take the door on your left and walk down the hallway till you reach a door. It should take you outside. Walk down the path next to the pond until it leads you to a building surrounded by bamboo,  the Hanshi. Quickly!"

Without a word Sizhui follows the directions, eyes and ears peeled for anymore unearthly beings. Thank god he didn't have to take the door that- he shivered- thing took.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man sitting before him was wrapped in gold robes with a peony emblem in front. He held a certain charisma that it almost made Sizhui want to sit down and drink the tea that was sitting innocently on the table. Prepared just for him.

Guangyao, as he presented himself, had the smile that made Sizhui want to run in the opposite direction. Especially when he told him what was happening.

"What do you mean that I'm stuck here?"

"Hm, kids these days are hard of hearing, I guess." Upon looking Sizhui's face Guangyao sighed and refilled his cup. "I mean that until you can set the resentful spirits to rest, there's nothing you can do to escape. The Yiling Patriarch has us trapped here until you can vanquish him."

"And why can't you do it?"

"I tried and failed. Now the Patriarch has me trapped here for who knows how long." Sizhui let out a breath of frustration.

Great! He leaves his home because his life is falling apart, gets caught at the gas station by his friends, their tire blows out because of a random tree branch, even though Jin Ling claims it was a dee- wait!

"JIN LING! Where's my cousin Jin Ling!" Guangyao looks at him confused.

"Jin who?"

"My cousin! He was with me!"

"Ah well, it's possible that he’s lost in the manor as you, Sizhui-er. Though I would start looking. He may end up dead before the night is over."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sizhui cursed his luck for the umpteenth time. There were zombies in here, zombies that moved faster than what he would have liked them too, and some of them liked to explode! 

They sucked! 

They sucked so hard that- argh!!!! 

He hated them!

It didn't help that he met the chained zombie, a fierce corpse, as Guangyao like to call them. He saw him this time when he opened the door, thinking the room was clear, and chased him across the manor. He was lucky enough to find another closet to hide in. As soon as the creature left, Sizhui carefully climbed out and walked to another path.

Ok, so to recap he went to the library and found Elder Teacher's Scroll. It had spells for evocation, suppression, and rest. He didn't understand it much, but once he found the other items that he requested, he was sure Guangyao could help him. He placed the scroll in his back pocket, making sure it was secure.

There was still no sign of Jin Ling increasing his worry, as he hoped his cousin did not have to face those creatures.  He kept walking until he heard nothing. The crickets did not chirp and the sound of the wind was ominous. It had a haunting tune, one that spoke of longing-

"Is that a flute? No, it's a-". He looks up to see a man in a black robe, red trim sitting on the rooftop, a red ribbon holding back his hair. It was a black bamboo Dizi, the type that Senior would love to get his hands on and play. It looked like the man did not hear him until he opened his eyes, looking straight at him. They had a red glow to them that spoke of pain and suffering.

"Sen-"

"My, my, look what the mouse dragged in! Tell me, what did you do to get trapped in here?" The animosity in his voice forced Sizhui to recoil back. The laughter sent a frigid chill down his spine.

This wasn't, this wasn't-

"No matter, let's get rid of the pests, shall we, Hanguang-jun?" With a few notes from the Dizi, the room marked Jingshi bursts open and out popped a man dressed in a white robe as if he was in mourning, a white ribbon around his forehead and his long bangs covered his face.

Sizhui moved out of the way as the blade cut thru his jacket sleeve. The sting on his arm caused him to hiss. Run! He thought. He had to run so he could stay alive.

He ran to the path towards the classroom, but the man had an unnatural speed to him. He was upon him, but Sizhui did not plan to give up. He took another direction, and he was there. Another and he too was there. No matter what path he took, he was right in front of him.

Fleeing would not work, so he looked around and found an old rusted blade. He held up to block a strike from above and fell, feeling the shock to his very bones. Such a ferocious attack!

It didn't appear, as the man walked to him slowly carrying what looked like an air of serenity, but the movement and aggressiveness of his blade was monstrous. It betrayed the strength that this fierce corpse was capable of.

Sizhui couldn't even get up. It was stupid! He thought fighting that thing was his only choice to live, and now he regretted it.

He thought of the mischievous laughter and the stern but reassuring ‘Mn' from his guardians, his parents, as he closed his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Wen Qing, Wen Ning, it's okay! I'll give them the Stygian Tiger Seal and I'll go to Gusu. When I do that, they'll leave you and everyone else alone."

"Ẅ̵̧̨̠͇̦̩̹͕̰͉̥͔̪̯̱̙́̉̅͛́̅̎̔̎́̐́̔̃̃́̏̍͑̀̃͘̕͜ͅẻ̷̤̼̭̭͍̮̝͎̪̯͕͈͔̻͍͐͒̾̌͊̆̂̓̿̋̇̾͊̾̎̒̉̆͜͠į̴̛̤̩͕̙̗̥̠̦̬̙͈̗̟̖̆̽̃́͂̀̏̀͒̊̎̔̇̎̈̃̿͑̋̄̚͝ ̵̨̛̘̯͈̻̔͋͒̀͌̀̌́̌͋W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠, you know we can't accept this! You paid your debt! You took us out of the camp, you brought my brother back. Don't do this!" Ẅ̵̧̨̠͇̦̩̹͕̰͉̥͔̪̯̱̙́̉̅͛́̅̎̔̎́̐́̔̃̃́̏̍͑̀̃͘̕͜ͅẻ̷̤̼̭̭͍̮̝͎̪̯͕͈͔̻͍͐͒̾̌͊̆̂̓̿̋̇̾͊̾̎̒̉̆͜͠į̴̛̤̩͕̙̗̥̠̦̬̙͈̗̟̖̆̽̃́͂̀̏̀͒̊̎̔̇̎̈̃̿͑̋̄̚͝ ̵̨̛̘̯͈̻̔͋͒̀͌̀̌́̌͋W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠ shakes his head.

"They have to, besides my control isn't the same as before. It won't be long before they break through the seal. At least this way I can save-" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CLANG!

Sizhui opened his eyes as he saw that the blade, ready to strike him, wrapped in chains. The howl sent a shiver up his spine as the chain pulled back, sending Hanguang-jun back to fight the fierce corpse that followed him.

'I guess they're not friends!' He thought as he looked up and saw that the mysterious Dizi player gone.  Seeing an opening, Sizhui runs into the Jingshi and looks for the instrument, a Guqin. It sat on the table next to two white jars covered with a white cloth. From the smell of the fermentation, he could tell that taking a sip would burn his throat.

He shook his head. He had no time to think of such things and grabbed the instrument. It would be too heavy to lug this around and heads to the Hanshi.

He forced himself to forget that Senior looked like the man from the rooftop, along with the laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He told Guangyao all about the Hanguang-jun and the mysterious man from the roof.

"Great, he knows you are here. Look if you see them again just run. When Hanguang-jun died they already knew him as one of the top cultivators. As for the man you saw, well, the Yiling Patriarch is an entirely different beast on his own. His ability to cultivate resentful energy is how he can bring fierce corpse's to life." He sips from the tea, savors it, then sets it down.

"From what you told me the Ghost General-"

"Ghost General?" Sizhui receives a silent reprimand from him causing him to stop talking.

"It's rude to interrupt. The fierce corpse with the chains. They knew him as Wen Ning, the Ghost General of the Yiling Patriarch. Though I find it odd that they would be fighting. Maybe something happened?" Sizhui shrugs. Everything was going over his head. Really, the sensible thing would be to grab Jin Ling and run to the edge of the forest and find a way out.

Jin Ling was still missing, though, and Guangyao had no way of knowing where he might be. Plus, it wasn't as if he could leave the Hanshi. He’s stuck in this beautiful and dark room, a partition serving as a cutoff from the tea table and the bed.

He notices a figure sitting slouched forward.

"So you've noticed my roommate."

"Who is he?"

"The last Sect master of Gusu, Zewu-jun."

"He's alive!"

"Hardly. He’s also afflicted by the same curse as me." Before he could ask more Guangyao smiles at him. "It's best that you look for the next items on the list."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With supplies ready, given by Guangyao, and an old rusted sword he found, which he knew he was useless with, made Sizhui felt slightly braver. Hopefully, the talisman's would be helpful.

The Library Pavilion was tricky to get to. He knew something was following him and knowing what the denizens of this cursed place was like, Sizhui was rightfully hesitant to meet this creature.

Finally reaching the place, he walks around looking for the secret passageway. Being in the library, however, he could not help but look at an open book talking about a chord assassination technique. Backing away, he forced himself not to jump when he heard whispers.

Lan-er-gege! You can't be mad! I've called your name so many times. Sizhui stops there. Lan? That's his family name. Why would he hear his family name? He thought back about his parents saying that they had an ancestral home once. But they never finished telling him anymore than that. After all, how could they when the 18 wheeler hit them, pushing their car over-

"Find the secret passage. Find the flags. Find the secret passage. Find the flags." He tripped. Face smacking the floor.

Did he mention how much he hated this place?

He rubbed his nose, checking for blood. Thankfully, there wasn't any and looked to see his foot caught on a handle. A handle that led to a door under the library. The secret passageway. He pulls it up and walks down the staircase.

Dust and cobwebs covered the entire place. Gulping he walks forward using the sword to clear the way making sure to not disturb any of the spiders.

"Well, I know that Jin Ling is definitely not here. He would just screech at this sight." He finds a stack of flags at the end of the room next to a jar. He makes a quick count and realizes he’s short one.

"Okay, where's the last one?" Looking around, he feels a sudden vertigo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Come to Gusu with me.

I can't. What will happen to the Wen's? You know that the other Sects want them dead.

I can talk to brother.

I- I

Please W̴̢̳̻̮̪̱̤̖̲̤̟̱͌̈͌̆̚͠͠ͅę̶̮͖͍̕ḯ̴̛͚͉̜̙͉̰̱͐͝ ̴̲̺̭̰̆̈́͐́͒̀̋̋̋̓̾̕͠͝W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠ come to Gusu.  I will talk to brother. The Wen's will be safe. A̷͕̯͔̖̤͖̫̼̫̹̼͛̏͆͑͆͂̏̏͊͂͂́͘-̵̡͍̗̬̯͚̹̹̱̼̰̟̘̩̖̥́̐̄̈́Ỵ̵̢̮͎͚̱̗̯̘̹̉̋̂̔̓̍̇͆͗̈̃͑̐̈́̋̋̐͊̉͛̚͘͝͝ͅu̸̧̡̖͕̼̗͓̳͙͍̠̹̙̗̙̘̥͍̯͖̫̦̣͆̊͠͝ȧ̶̡̖̳̫̟͔̣̩̋̔̀̆̀̒͠ň̸̢̧̨̛̘̠̗͍͇̭̯̪̠͕̤͈͚͔̟͕͔͖̖͕͌̇̈́̿̏̈̇́̃̏̈́̎̃̚̚͜͠ will be safe-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A hand holds him up, and he calls out a name.

"Jin Ling?"

"Jin Ling? There is no Jin Ling, though there is a bastard with that family name." Her hair was up and her dirty black robes have seen better days. It looked burnt and ashy. She had a stern face, but oddly he felt the urge to see her smile. He shakes the thought and looks back, her face familiar, though he knows he never met her.

"Who-" She shushes him as they hear footsteps from above. It was slow and methodical. He catches sight of a white robe. Eyes widening, he hopes that his heartbeat would not betray their location. They lean back against the wall, standing still as statues. She silently signals him to follow her. He watches as she walks a few steps past the bookshelf to reveal a secret door, initially hidden by the shadows of the room. He works his way towards her.

The jar, caught by his jacket, falls with a loud crash. The woman gasps and holds out her hand. He darts to the door as Hanguang-jun breaks down the floor beneath him. As they enter, the woman is quick to close the opening making a grating rocky sound. The stone door should hopefully hold off the fierce corpse. His companion seemed to think otherwise.

"Quickly! Follow me!" They run down the passageway which leads to the forest. 

"He's still following us!"

"How do you know?" The sound of trees and branches falling behind him answers his question. Leaving him to wonder if this Hanguang-jun was strong enough to cut through the stone.

He's forced to stop when the woman turns towards him. From her robes she pulls out a needle which she uses to cut his cheek. He hisses as he watches her make a sigil. Something red and hazy appears next to her.

"You go down the path quickly, I'll meet you soon!" He didn't question her and took the path she pointed. He stopped at a dead end. For once it wasn't scary, in fact there were rabbits there. Sizhui sits down by the tree and hugs himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

W̷̧̪̱͚͖̅̐̌̀́͠ȇ̶̛̹̜̐̋̀̎̈̄͝į̸̡̗̤͈̪͉̈́ ̷̟̻͔̋̋̓͂̌̋͊W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠. I love you.

Ah, L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚! Warn me when you tell me things like this.

Mn

L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚, take responsibility and hug me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wakes with a start.

That wasn't- that wasn't them.

It looked like them, but it wasn't them.

"Hey Sizhui! Wake up or I'll break your legs!" Sizhui rubs his eyes as he looks up to finally sees his cousin.

"Jin Ling, where were you?" Jin Ling scoffs.

"Looking for you! Come one let's get out of here. This place is creepy." Sizhui nods and stands up. They walk out of the grove.

"What were you doing, anyway?" Jin Ling asks, rubbing his arms up and down. Seems he lost his jacket while searching for him.

"I was running from zombies." Jin Ling stops to look at him, then laughs mockingly. 

"I'm serious! These fierce corpses were chasing me, and I had to run around getting these items. Look! I had to grab these flags to do a ritual-" He feels a sharp pinch on his arm. "Hey!"

"Can you hear yourself," asks Jin Ling as he tsks. "Zombies, rituals, really Sizhui I know you don't want to go home but stop playing around."

"I'm not-"

"Really? Then why don't you go visit jiu'jiu'-Xian? Visit-"

"I'm not playing!"

"As if! Look, I know the shit that everyone is saying. Cursed child, whatever! You just punch them in the face!"

"uh... A-die says I shouldn't."

"Your A-die doesn't even respond anymore. Coward." Sizhui turns his head sharply, eyes narrowing. Jin Ling raises his hand up. "Sorry. Low blow, but I'm serious. Everyone is worried about you and you can ignore those gossiping blowhards. They just want to say something to feel important." Sizhui doesn't even bother to get after for him.

"How did you find me, anyway? I didn't leave any notes." Jin Ling raises his eyes in disbelief.

"We sent pictures on the web and tv. Some dude caught sight of you at the gas station." Odd, he only saw granny there taking care of the counter and there were no cars around. Maybe it was a passing vehicle and the guy just saw him. It didn't matter. He tried to run because he wanted to escape. Better for everyone.

Ever since his parents died A-die and Senior took care of him as if he was their child. They still told stories about his mama and baba. A-die even taught him how to play the Guqin, though he knew he was rusty now. He stopped playing when A-die stopped responding. That was almost six months ago. Now he was the cursed kid that no one wanted to be around. Anyone that takes care of him meets a grisly end. He receives a harsh slap on his back.

"Hey, when we get back I'll stand by you and help you beat up those whinny ninnies." Sizhui snorts.

"Whinny ninnies? Have you been hanging out with Jiu'jiu-Cheng?" Jin Ling scoffs looking away, but not before Sizhui caught sight of his face turning red. It was then that they heard moans coming from one of the forked paths.

"Sizhui. Tell me you were really kidding about those zombies." Jin Ling stares at Sizhui, who shakes his head. They both turn just in time to see the fierce corpses heading towards them, now running since it caught sight of them.

With no prompting, they ran side by side to the hallways of Gusu Manor. Left, right they ran to hide from the monsters, but no matter where they went they found themselves unable to outrun them. It was as if there was a tracker on them. Letting these creatures were they were going.

Sizhui has a horrid realization.

"Jin Ling! Take this path! It should lead you to the Hanshi, you should be safe there!"

"What? No!"

"Do it! Wait for me there! I will meet you there!" He pushes his cousin and runs the opposite direction. The fierce corpses ignore Jin Ling and follow him instead.

Damn Guangyao! Couldn't he have told him that these flags were a damn beacon for these monsters! And he wanted to smack himself for leaving the sword behind. Though it would do much good since he had a horde.

He remembers the talisman and finds one that say's repress. As he runs he is quick to grab a box that was the perfect size for the flags, place them inside and places the talisman on it. It glows a light blue and slowly it appears as if he is losing them. Once he ran far enough, he found that he was further than he intended from the manor.

Luck was on his side when he caught sight of large, trumpet-shaped flowers. They were an intense blue. Finally, Sizhui was on his way to the Gentian house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at the house was no trouble. It was the last item that was the issue. Guangyao had told him that at the Gentian House there should house the Stygian Tiger Seal. The only thing he found was the missing flag, which he placed in the box for safekeeping.

No matter where he looked, he could not find the item in question. Under the bed, in the desk drawer, the bookshelf with a sealed red and white urn, he even went to look under the boards, but nothing. He was about to call it quits when he heard the door open.

He hides in the closet and peeks to see the Yiling Patriarch. He looked around, confused. Crap! He’s bound to notice him.

"Aiyah! I must have left a mess. Oh, well." He sits down, pulls out a board and reaches in. From there, he pulls out a bottle that reads Emperor's Smile.

"He, he, he There's not much left so I may as well enjoy what's left." He pulls off the seal and drinks it. The fermentation strong in the air. Sizhui tries not to gag.

THUD! THUD!

He holds his breath when he sees the man stand up, angry.

"Get lost!"

THUD! THUD!

"GET LOST!" He hears the bottle of wine crash against the door, the resentful energy feeling thick in the air.

"GET LOST! GET LOST! GET LOST! DIRTY LIAR! CRUEL WORTHLESS DIRTY LIAR! MURDERER!" Sizhui almost felt faint by how much resentment was filling the air. Thick inky clouds expelled from the Yiling Patriarch. He wanted to cry, yell, anything, but all he could do was let out a pitiful sob. He sits back, upset.

It becomes quiet, the energy he felt gone. Sizhui covers his mouth. Did he hear him?

He sits still, listening. The footsteps are slow, as if trying to make the most minimal sound as possible. Maybe he heard but didn't know where the sound came from? If he's lucky he can sneak out and distract the Yiling Patriarch and maybe come back?

The door opens as a pale hand pulls him out. He screams as he's thrown to the partition.

"Oh, and look at this small mouse. Did you think I would not find you?" Sizhui crawls back, trying to get away from the man. The steps he took were still slow, but also predatory. The resentment, the ominous clouds now hung heavy in the air.

"Tell me what are you looking for mouse? Maybe I can help you?" Teased the man viciously. Sizhui is still crawling back until he finds an incense burner.

He throws it. It didn't hit him, but it gave him the chance he was looking for, which was to run to the door. As he opened the door, he barely missed being decapitated when he ducked to an opening.

"Damn that Hanguang-jun!" He doesn't turn to look back. But he could feel that they were close, which was bad. All the running was getting to him. He didn't know how long he could keep it up. He was about to trip, when he’s suddenly wrapped in chains and pulled up to the sky.

He's caught by the Ghost General. His heart, wrought in fear, goes to his throat as he faints.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stop following the demonic path

Ah, L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚, you have no-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

L̷͍̣̟̬̤̹̝̜̪̮̭̈̌̀̿̑͑̈́̐̈́̐̇ȃ̵̧̫͕̪̰̻n̴͔̳͖͗̑͒ ̸̲̖̜͕̈́̀̂͌̏̐͂̇̎̚͘Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚, than-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ẅ̵̧̨̠͇̦̩̹͕̰͉̥͔̪̯̱̙́̉̅͛́̅̎̔̎́̐́̔̃̃́̏̍͑̀̃͘̕͜ͅẻ̷̤̼̭̭͍̮̝͎̪̯͕͈͔̻͍͐͒̾̌͊̆̂̓̿̋̇̾͊̾̎̒̉̆͜͠į̴̛̤̩͕̙̗̥̠̦̬̙͈̗̟̖̆̽̃́͂̀̏̀͒̊̎̔̇̎̈̃̿͑̋̄̚͝ ̵̨̛̘̯͈̻̔͋͒̀͌̀̌́̌͋W̴̨̛̖̮̖̫̗̣̫͖̣̌̌̏̃̀̐̔̐̆͛͛̆̿͆̀̈͑͂͌͑̈́̂̓̕u̷̧̖͈͕̹̬̫͓̲̠͉̭͐̈́̓͋͐x̶̳͓̪̟̯̜̯̳͙̳͇̪̳̻̳̦̺̲̝̟̓̄͋̅̈́̑̋͜͠i̴̢̨̛̛̙̱̺͍̜͚̗̟͉̗̹̘̝̦͌͑͛̌̃̎̇̔̀̋̈́̊͊̾͋̉̓̽̚͜͠͠ͅͅa̶̹͖̤̝̗̻̹͎̦̤͚̮̯̪͎͇͕̗̫͙̠̹̹̎̇̀̈́͆̃̃̈́̈̈́̈̎͜͠͝͝n̵̳͉̤͈̗̽̏͛̈́͗̊͝͠ .

Did you forget what we promised? What's right and what's wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you hear? The Jin Sect is cursed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another vision. Great. Ever since his hit on the head he tried to ignore them as time passed, but whatever happened back then seemed to want to make itself known. No matter if the audience is unwilling or not. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

He awoke in what looked like a boarding room for school kids. As he got up, he’s quickly pushed down.

"You need to rest. You've had a hard night." It was the woman from before.

"No, no, I need to continue"

"And as a doctor I need you to sleep. My brother found you and saved you from those two." Sizhui’s confused.

"Your brother. He fought the Ghost General?”

"He is the Ghost General." His eyes widened as he looked around. "He's not here, but I am. My name is Wen Qing and you are?"

"Lan Sizhui." He noticed her hand stiffened for a moment, then continue with his wounds. She wrapped and cleaned his arm with a bandage and was now cleaning a wound was on the wing of his back. Funny, it must have been the adrenaline running in his system. He didn’t realize he was injured till now.

"What exactly are you doing? Running around, you should be leaving, not staying." She reprimanded as she cleaned and tidied up her supplies.

"I was told that I could not leave until I broke the curse."

"And who told you that?"

"Guangyao." Her hand freezes just as she was about to close her box.

"Guangyao? Jin Guangyao, you're listening to that beast!"

"What are you talking about?" He asked, understanding now that there was something more to his mysterious benefactor.

"He didn't tell me he was a Jin, just that his name is Guangyao." Wen Qing scoffs.

"Only because he doesn't want his crimes to be known. Listen here! You need to stay away from that man. He will only use you and throw you away once you're no longer any use to him."

"What do you mean?!" Wen Qing sighs.

"He is the reason that this curse came to be. A  long time ago our leader, Wen Ruohan, lost the war and they killed the survivors off. Only Wei Wuxian stood for us since we save him and his brother." She closes the box and puts it away.

"During the war he created the Stygian Tiger Seal. It was powerful, but it did its job, however later on he grew to fear how much resentful energy it was consuming. So he made a deal with the remaining Sects. He would give himself up and the Stygian Tiger Seal. In return, the Sects would let us live in peace." "I'm guessing that's not what happened."

"They killed us all and those remaining died without medical help. Even the smallest-" she chocked as tears fell from her eyes.

"You're not alive. Are you?"

"I died trying to hide little A-Yuan. But from what I hear, he didn't make it." She wipes away the tears.

"I don't get it. Why is it Jin Guangyao's fault?"

"It's his fault because under his father's order, he incited the other clans to attack by killing Sect Leader Nie and blaming us for it. If it wasn't for his brother, Nie Huaisang, finding out, then everyone would have believed we were guilty. I only know this because even now the remaining spirits love to whisper, but Nie Huaisang, visited  Wei Wuxian. He was heartbroken when he couldn't visit A-Yuan's funeral. They thought he was there to console him. They were friends during their schooling here in Gusu. Then a few days later he activated the curse. And now we are here, stuck in Gusu, unable to move on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

L̵̡̧̢̞̦̰͖͍͚͉̳͒͌̀͗̀â̵̧̯̫̦̳̟͉͖̣̝̄̆͑̆̾̑̈́n̶̥̔͋́̈̊́͘ ̸̢͉̬̞̲̘͎͊̐Ŵ̴̭͊̾̎̌̆͜͠a̴͍͉̳͍̐̓͜͜ͅͅͅn̴̜̺͖̰͉͖̻̆̂̾̓̈́̕g̸̗̈́͋͂̊̑͌̇͝͝j̸̢͓̣͎̟͠i̶͇̚ stood outside-

-wail in agony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jin Ling! Jin Ling! Where are you?!" He pulled open the door, not caring about the commotion he was causing.

Both of them were getting out of here, he thought. They weren't staying there a minute longer.

"Sizhui-er! What's the matter?!" Guangyao appeared by the partition as he walked over to calm the teenager.

"My cousin! I sent him here. I know it. I saw him head this way."

"No, no, no, I saw no one come by. Here," he pours a cup of tea and presents it to Sizhui. It felt warm to the touch. "Drink this. You would feel better afterwards." Sizhui stared at the cup and felt a surge of anger as he threw the teacup, not quite hitting Jin Guangyao, but close enough.

"ENOUGH! Enough with the lies! Enough with the half-truths! Tell me what do my parents Lan Zhan and Wei Ying have to do with the spirits of Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch!?"

Jin Guangyao sighed, sat down, as if he was the one who ran around this damn place, tired. He looked at him straight in the eyes.

"It took a while to find all of you, you know."

"Excuse me?!"

"Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are the reincarnations of Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch. Or rather, their half-reincarnations. So I called them. Pulled their souls over here." Sizhui punched him.

"YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT MY PARENTS ARE COMATOSED BECAUSE OF YOU!" Guangyao laughed, not a care in the world. The secret now out.

"See I made many choices, choices that led to the deaths of an entire sect, that led to the terrible descent into madness for Wei Wuxian. I didn't care. I was working my way to getting my father's approval, or at least I thought I did." He grunts as he gets up, wiping the blood from his lip.

"I was a war hero and shared the cups of brotherhood with two other known figures from the war, Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Yet, no matter what I did, it wasn't enough." He gave an empty laugh. Sizhui felt uncomfortable as he felt the despair.  

"I ruined Sects for that man so that our Sect could stand on top. I killed one venerated brother so there would be no opposition, had the Wen-dog survivors blamed so we would kill them off. I destroyed Wei Wuxian's reason for living and relationship so we could appear righteous and powerful. Then I destroyed the one that truly mattered."  Sizhui gulped as the man in front of him reminisced.

"I didn't mean to, but I failed to see how much Huanguang-Jun loved Wei Wuxian. It was easy to see how much Zewu-jun loved his brother, and for him I made sure no harm would come to his little brother. Zewu-jun, he called me his equal. I wasn't some son of a prostitute, I was special to him. When I had the Wen's killed, the Yiling Patriarch cast his curse, which Huanguang-jun accepted... I saw how Zewu-jun broke down to see his brother give up, be taken willingly."

“Hanguang-jun blamed himself.” Stated Sizhui. Jin Guangyao nodded.

"Yes, and maybe he wanted to show that he would stand by Wei Wuxian's side. Who knows, that man didn't speak much, always keeping his thoughts to himself. Like I said, I didn't care about anyone else except for my father's approval and... Zewu-jun, Lan Xichen." Sizhui looks back at the man sitting on the other side of the room, hidden by the partition.

"Discovering what I did, Zewu-jun immediately blamed himself, for without his blessing's and his help, I would not have been able to do the things I did. When I tried to break the curse, the reason we couldn't was because of me. Zewu-jun could no longer trust me. So we- I failed. The only thing we did was just forcefully subdue part of the spirits." Jin Guangyao clenched his teeth, holding back the tears that threatening to spill from his eyes.

"My betrayal was too much, the pain that it wrought was too heavy, that he just shut down. I don't care wether any of the spirits here can find healing, but for Zewu-jun I want to break this curse and maybe he can finally move on." Sizhui sighed.

He just wanted to find his cousin and get the hell out. However, hearing what happened to the Wen siblings living the half cursed life. The memories of Lan Wangji sitting outside the Gentian house when he wanted to get Wei Wuxian to at least talk to him, hear him, see him. The pain when Wei Wuxian wanted to save little A-Yuan only to die. He never even got to see his body to mourn properly. Damn his bleeding heart.

"Fine, let's get started."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mingshi was musty smelling, perhaps from the mold, dark and littered with cobwebs. They worked quickly to clear it with only the light of the moon, from the broken ceiling, to guide them. Though ominous, Gusu must have been a beautiful place. He could almost imagine the foliage from the outside, how the ponds and rivers would have trickled and the birds singing.

But it wasn't. He would need his friends' hands to count how many steps he broke from him just placing the slightest pressure. He picked up the scroll and read the evocation and rest. As he told Guangyao it had been a while, but he hoped he could remember the hand placement to play these scores.

A nagging question had been on Sizhui's mind. Would the ritual work? And why? Figuring it wouldn't hurt to ask, Sizhui turned to ask Guangyao the nagging question.

"Sizhui-er, I have every belief that this ritual will work."

"And why is that?"

"Because, you have Wen Yuan's spirit." Sizhui's blank face caused Guangyao to sigh heavily.

"Part of the reason for Wei Wuxian's madness is that he blames himself for his adopted son's death. When he realizes that you're the reincarnation of Wen Yuan it may settle him down enough to allow us to play Rest for the peace that he denied himself." With all the cloak and dagger from Guangyao, his word was useless. So why go along with this?

"And if that does not work?"

"In the words of today's youth, we are totally screwed" Sizhui snorts. Guangyao side glances at him questioningly.

"You are out of touch."

"Shut up." Odd how that reminded him of Jin Ling. That is the most frustrating part. He met his cousin finally only to lose track of him.

He's startled when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"I have it on good authority that your cousin is fine." Sizhui felt a familiar course of anger but was too tired to act on it.

"Is this something you've known for a while?"

"Not until I had confirmation." Knowing the man by now, that could have been a few hours ago or maybe right from the beginning. It was no use now.

Quickly they set the Spirit Flags and drew the sigil for evocation from the Elder Teacher's scroll. He pivots to see Guangyao holding the flute, Liebling as he called it, touching the mouthpiece, his lips pursed.

"Will you be able to play it?" Guangyao snaps out of his trance and nods.

"I've practiced, just not with this instrument, but it should be no different." Sizhui nods and takes his place.

"What do we do about the Stygian Tiger Seal?" That had been the only thing he hadn't been unable to bring with him since he had to run for his life. Really, he would do anything to not get near the madman.

He... he wanted to go home with his A-die and Senior.

"He'll bring it with him. There is no way that he would leave without it." Guangyao ignored Sizhui's glare as he puffed in indignation.

"Then what was the point of me going to the Gentian House?"

"To let him know that I haven't stopped."

Lan Sizhui had to count to twenty in order not to kill Jin Guangyao.

"You are the most aggravating man I ever met."

"Yes, Dage would tell me that often." He was not laughing. He wants to go home. Wants to find Jin Ling. Eat Lotus Pork Rib Soup and forget that this night ever existed. Sadly, he let himself get duped, he realized. He should have grabbed his cousin the first chance he found him and just ran the hell out of this place. Now he’s stuck here, baiting a madman who apparently had every right to curse this place, who held... Senior's soul. 

He realized the implication now. Did Senior not wake up because now, in his previous life, Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch held his soul. It would make sense, weirdly. The doctors could not find out why he refused to wake up. There was no brain damage, no previous health problems. He was just asleep. A-Die is like that too. They had trouble waking him up, and now his appetite was non-existent.

That broke him.

He couldn't see him go down the same path as Senior. He was the one lifeline he had against, the vicious rumors that sprouted. Cursed child.

He left for that reason.

His parents died trying to get home quick to surprise him. A-Die and Senior are now dying because Guangyao called their spirits back and the only way to save them is to put the Yiling Patriarch and Hanguang-jun to rest. The doors open and the few candles that Guangyao lit flicker off, one by one. Sizhui follows Guangyao's lead as he plays Clarity. He did not understand what was happening, but he could feel the coaxing influence as Guangyao directed the energy to circle around them.

"My, my Lianfang-zun, you're still here? I would have thought you'd have wasted away," joked Wei Wuxian as he walked through the door. He wasn't alone. Behind him were scores of fierce corpses in faded blue and white robes marred with dirt and blood. They stood there as if in attention.

It became apparent why, when the Stygian Tiger Seal is pulled from his sleeves, floating in his hands.

"If I recall correctly, I wounded you."

"Yet here I am."

"Yes, very interesting. Anyway's give me back the Wangji. That Guqin doesn't belong to you." All this time Sizhui hadn't stopped playing as instructed, but felt nervous. The Guqin, called Wangji, trembled in Sizhui's hand. He didn't see how this could be a weapon, but right now he had no choice but to trust Guangyao. He played the notes on and on, concentrating on the music, trying to listen to the scene happening before him.

"Wei Wuxian, you know that it's time to stop."

"Time to stop? Funny, the time to stop should have been when I gave myself and the Stygian Tiger Seal up, the time to stop was when we locked ourselves up in Burial Mounds, the time to stop would have been after the war when the Wen's gave up. But you didn’t, did you?" He plays a harsh note and sends a red and black energy towards them.

The sound of Clarity encircling them dissipated the attack.

"Oh, and I guess you learned some new tricks? Then again, you always were so good at twisting something so good for your benefit weren't you?" Guangyao growled as he prepared to send an attack only to stop when the Yiling Patriarch moves to the side.

Lan Xichen was supposed to be in the Hanshi. Yet here he was floating, held by the dark resentful energy that the Yiling Patriarch exuded.

Lan Xichen dropped to the floor, shoulders slumped.

"And here is the other culprit."

Guangyao stilled. With a quick movement, he motioned for Sizhui to be ready to be on the offensive.

"Seriously dabaizi, how naïve could you be. Oh, wait you weren't, you were just willfully ignorant. You know Sang-Gongzi was kind enough to tell me how many times Dage tried to warn you about Jin Guangyao? He's a liar. You can't trust him outright. He's up to something. And what did you do?" He lifts the other man's chin up.

"You gave him the very thing he needed to kill him. Your action allowed him to pin the blame on the surviving Wen's and kill them. Tell me, why were you allowed to mourn for A-Yuan when your actions had  a hand in killing him." He could not see an expression from Zewu-jun, but Sizhui could see the tears.

"Tell me Guangyao, will you be willing to save Zewu-jun or will you let him die just like Sect Leader Nie?" The horde of fierce corpse's ran in and Guangyao’s forced to work double time. On one end he played Liebling to continue the surrounding shield, on the other he helped Sizhui to direct the attacks to the fierce corpses.

If they had more time. More chances to work together, their teamwork would have been possible.

It failed as a demon corpse plunged a blade into Lan Xichen's back. His body dropped.

"No!" Guangyao ran hoping to catch Zewu-jun as Sizhui let out one last attack, pushing back the fierce corpse's back. It broke the connection. Red eyes narrowed in irritation.

Guangyao held Lan Xichen's body as he wept in agony, trying to stop the blood. It seeped his beautiful white robes.

"Zewu-jun! Zewu-jun! Xichen!" Cried out Guangyao, his voice breaking in pain. Sizhui allowed himself to become distracted, not realizing that the Yiling Patriarch was right next to him. He stood up in fear only to feel him ram his hand to his chest.

It was odd as he looked down. There was no blood, in fact it didn't go through his chest, but he noticed a red energy where the hand went through. It wasn't until he felt a squeeze to his heart that he realized the terrible implication.

"I don't know how you broke the connection. A lucky strike, perhaps? It matters not, why don't you make your last amends, eh?" He squeezes his heart and Sizhui could only scream in pain. His mind blacks out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I can't-" "You should take him. He see's you as his father" "..." "A-Die! A-Die!" "A-Yuan! How is my little turnip!" Sizhui can feel himself carried and as he squeals into the air. A-Die is so fun! Alway's burying him in dirt to make him grow like the turnip he is, taking him to the market and let him play with the toys. Although he never bought him any, he never thought to beg him to buy it. He's thrown up in the air, enjoying the excitement. He could hear Wen Qing chiding him and uncle Wen Ning moving around to make sure he didn't fall. No worries. A-Die will always protect him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Yiling Patriarch let's go as Sizhui falls back gasping for air. He didn't believe Guangyao's remark, but he could feel A-Yuan's feelings and how safe he felt. Tears fell from his eyes as he tried to get ahold of the turbulent emotions within.

"A-Yuan? A-Yuan is that you?" Sizhui looks up and see's the man in utter happiness. He looked so young, so joyful. Like he had committed no atrocities in his life. He tries to back away, but frozen from the frenzied look of Wei Wuxian. The man hugs him, his shoulder becoming damp with tears.

"A-Yuan! You're back, you're finally back! Please tell me you're here to stay. I'll protect you. This time I'll protect you from anyone that wants to harm you! No one will hurt you here. I promise! We'll stay in the Gentian House, plant potatoes and radishes, I'll play the Chenquing for you, no nightmares. Maybe if I'm in a pleasant mood, if I can trust him, I can let that man play on his Wangji. Stupid man, naming it after himself, ha, ha, ha!" With each word the Yiling Patriarch hugged him harder and harder, his nails digging into him deeper and deeper to his sides.

He tried to push him back, but he just refused to let go. It was becoming harder to breathe. The sound of the iron chain was the only warning they had before the Patriarch pushed him away.

"Wen Ning... why are you stopping me? I get it now, why you did what you had to do. You knew he was little A-Yuan, but now you're trying to take him away from me? Why?"

"Because A-Yuan died and moved on!" All occupants looked back to see Wen Qing, holding a red and white urn, the same one he saw in Gentian House, standing by the doors.

"He's A-Yuan reincarnated, but he's not our A-Yuan anymore. Wei Wuxian let it go. It's okay. You did your best." Wei Wuxian shakes his head in anger.

"No, no, no! It wasn't my best. I trusted the wrong people! I thought I was doing the right thing. I had the best intentions, and you died, granny, uncle four, everyone died. A-Yuan died!" He makes way to grab A-Yuan only for Wen Ning to get in the way. Hanguang appears and sensing Wei Wuxian's intention runs to grab Sizhui, but the extensive range of the Ghost General's chain cuts him off.

He does a sweeping arc to the two men, who’re forced to step back. Lan Wangji however changes his momentum forward when the chain passed by him, intent to accomplish the new goal.

Sizhui grabs Guqin and plays more notes, remembering how Guangyao guided him. He plucked the strings towards Hanguang-Jun. It wasn't strong, but it caught him off guard. He picks up the instrument and runs towards Guangyao and to pull him away from this place.

They failed, but they can come back and make an alternative plan! Something that'll free his guardians, free the spirits!

He forgot how fast Hanguang-Jun could be when he appeared by his side and used his long legs to trip him. His face smacked against the floor and he’s forced down when a foot pushed into his back. The Guqin landed far from him. Guangyao was not idle, though, as he pulled his blade out.

"Get Zewu-jun out of here!" Sizhui nods as he attempts to pick up the body. He didn't know if Guangyao noticed or just ignored it, but already Sizhui could tell his body had lost its warmth.

Sizhui attempts to move the man's body, but he was tall and he had trouble moving him. He looked to Wen Qing to help him, but she just stood there.

"Wen Qing! Help!" But she shook her head.

A misstep happens as the chaotic resentful energy acts up and crackles in the air. It nearly hits Sizhui, which causes the Ghost General to change tactics and steps in to protect him and Zewu-jun’s body.

The negative energy pours into Wen Ning, who lets out a howling growl. Seeing Sizhui endangered Wen Qing is quick to throw the urn passing through him. He shivered, cold and confused. Why did she pass through him? Wasn't she a fierce corpse? Was she a ghost?

He hears a scream and turns to see Hanguang-jun cut the Ghost General into pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Lan-er-gege! You can't be mad! I've called your name so many times." "Shameless." The innocent sound of laughter is heard in the air of the Library Pavilion. Lan Wangji lips tilt in a smile. He hides it before Wei Wuxian catches sight of it.

***********

The Wen's took so much and now Lan Wangji’s left to wander with Wei Wuxian’s brother to look for him. He could only hope they weren't too late.

*********** "Stop following the demonic path," he laughs, surprising the occupants in the room. "Ah Hanguang-jun, right? You have no right to tell me anything. This is Jiang Sect's business." Lan Wangji leaves confused. What happened to him?

*********** "Lan Er-ge-ge, thank you for playing for me." Lan Wangji smiles and thinks everything would be okay.

************ It wasn't okay. It stopped being okay, and he didn't know what to do. "Wei Wuxian." "Did you forget what we promised? What's right and what's wrong?" That promise, they promised to protect the weak.

************ He'll protect them. He'll uphold his promise like he should have when We Wuxian first left. "Come to Gusu with me." "I can't. What will happen to the Wen's? You know that the other Sects want them dead." "I can talk to brother." "I- I…" "Please Wei Wuxian come to Gusu.  I will talk to brother. The Wen's will be safe. A-Yuan will be safe." "Can you promise me that?" "Mn." He will make the promise again if it gives him the chance to protect him and the others when he should have.

*********** "A-xian. I love you." He murmurs as he held him close. They couldn't bring A-Yuan yet, seeing as the Lan was in discussion with the Jin Sect about this. It should be fine though, as his brother promised to see things through. "Ah, Lan-er gege! Warn me when you tell me things like this," giggles his love. He looked better now. His face didn't look as pale, and though he found out his golden core’s gone, it still wasn't impeding his recovery. "Mn." "Lan-er gege, take responsibility and hug me." He does, and so much more. This moment and all other moments would become so precious to him.

*********** "You promised me!" "Wei-" "You promised me they would be okay! AND NOW THEY'RE DEAD!" "Please, listen!" How could it all go wrong?! The Wen's killing Nie Mingjue. He still couldn't understand how such a thing could happen, but all evidence pointed towards them. "I'M DONE LISTENING! I'M DONE! WHY DID I EVER LISTEN TO YOU! I SHOULD HAVE STAYED AT THE BURIAL MOUNDS! At least-" He sobs and he could only watch in pain. "At least-AT LEAST THEY WOULD BE ALIVE. WEN QING... WEN NING... A-... A-YUAN!"

********* They found A-Yuan, hidden by the tree trunk and sneaked him back here. They were too late, and they prepared a private funeral. The elders however had stipulations. "Never! His outbursts are too dangerous. Did you not see the resentful energy around him! It would only agitate the boy's spirit. It's sad that we were too late to save him from the fever, but we cannot allow him to partake in the mourning ceremony! The poor boy's soul would be endangered." Lan Wangji stood outside as he heard Wei Wuxian wail in agony. He wouldn't even answer his calls. He stood there, like he did when he was younger for his mother, but now for his A-Xian.

********* "Did you hear? The Jin Sect is cursed. Many of the main family are dead. The young madam had to move back home to protect the heir. How sad that her husband did not survive. Some say he had a hole in his ribs." He ignored the rumors, when all he cared about was whether his love would open the doors. He sat there on his knees, waiting. Waiting. He never noticed when the Stygian Tiger Seal flew into one of the opened windows.

********** Jin Guangyao arrived, claiming that Wei Wuxian stole the Stygian Tiger Seal. Lan Wangji didn't care.

********** Lan Wangji can only watch in despair as the Gentian House, the home of his late mother and now of his love, surrounded by resentful energy. The others begged him to move, to stop the Yiling Patriarch, but he knew he couldn't. He didn't trust him. Wouldn't open the door. He didn't even want to talk to him anymore. He lost that right when he could not protect the Wens. 'If I gave you my life.' He thought as he stood there ignoring his brother's call. 'If I gave myself to the curse, would you please look at me? Just once more.' Tears slid down his face, his throat closing up. 'Please look at me once more.' Jin Guangyao had to pull Lan Xichen away as he watched his brother give himself up to the Yiling Patriarch's curse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Hanguang-jun stood still, surprised that Wei Wuxian was looking at him.

"YOU DID IT AGAIN! GET OUT OF HERE!" Without a word he leaves, but not before grabbing his Guqin, Wangji. The Yiling Patriarch surveyed the area, ignoring the longing look from Hanguang jun.

The ashes were scattered across the floor as Wen Qing held her brother's corpse cut into pieces. She wept as Wei Wuxian landed on his knees.

"Wen Qing," he sobs. "Qing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He kowtows before her. Wen Qing grabs his arm and shakes her head.

"It's okay. We've suffered enough, you've suffered enough. Let it go, it's time to rest," she utters as a golden light circles around her. Wei Wuxian could only cry as she disappears.

Both Sizhui and Guangyao leave with Xichen, allowing the Yiling Patriarch to mourn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived to the Hanshi in a somber mood.

They didn't succeed and Zewu-jun, who somehow lived all this time, was finally dead.

He was still curious how such a feat was possible, but Sizhui didn't even had the energy to sate his curiosity. The latest visions left a sour and bitter taste to his mouth. So much good intentions and it all lead to this hell.

Jin Guangyao fell. He waves off Sizhui.

"Go take him to his bed. I'll- I'll sit here and then join you for a bit." Sizhui nods and proceeds past the partition.

Odd that he never really walked passed here. Then again, he was never invited to the private room and with Lan Xichen mourning... it really wouldn't be appropriate.

He steps in and takes in the sight. The place was tidy. The books were in their place. A broken Guqin rested in one corner of the room with blood on its strings. It must have been Guangyao's as he remembered the conversation from earlier. The event must have been bad since it stained the wood.

Sizhui turns and finds a sight that should have terrified him, but after tonight's events he felt numbed. There on the bed was a dried up corpse. He wore the same clothes as Jin Guangyao but where the peony emblem should be, was nothing more than a hole, dried blood staining the fabric.

Jin Guangyao was a ghost too, huh? Odd how he felt real to the touch. Then again, so did Wen Qing. He wondered how that was possible, when she just passed by him, except for the urn holding the ashes. Were those her ashes?

He settles the last master of Gusu Lan to the bed, next to Jin Guangyao. Funny that Zewu-jun looked like he was sleeping peacefully. He wonders what his visions would have been. Did he and Guangyao share tea in this room? What was the relationship between him and his brother to fully entrust the safety of the now deceased Wens? He must have been a man of great integrity to have everyone trust him undisputedly.

He walks out of the room ready to face Guangyao's ghost, only to see the Yiling Patriarch standing over the fallen form of Guangyao.

"Stay away-" He stops short when he sees a sight for sore eyes. On the floor wearing Guangyao's clothes was his missing cousin, Jin Ling.

"This makes little sense."

"It does to me. I knew I killed him, I was just confused about how he could wield Liebling. After all, ghosts have no corporeal forms, so for them to hold on to anything they would need a relative or someone with a weak spiritual constitution to possess. Let me take a crack at it. A Jin? He has the same haughty look that all Jin's carry." Sizhui stood still, ready to grab his cousin to safety.

Wei Wuxian smirks.

"Don't worry, no more blood will be spilt. We have enough tragedies as it is. Question though. You are Lan, but you're not bound here. You could have left anytime you wanted. Especially when you found this one, so why are you still here?" Sizhui clears his throat.

"I can't leave till I free my A-Die and Senior. You have their souls"

"Let me guess. Guangyao? Here's the truth. He lied. Go ho-"

"You have their soul's! Their names are Lan Zhan and Wei Ying. Your laugh sounds almost like his if it didn't sound cynical and Hanguang-jun," he pauses. Unsure to tell him about the visions. "He is just as intimidating." Wei Wuxian laughs.

"Well, it makes sense why I felt out of it. It's only till recently that I feel coherent." He walks around the room taking in the sight and stops.

"You know that empathy can go two ways, right? It's hard for those that start off in the beginning, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes easier to look at the other side." He see's Sizhui's face and laughs.

"You know the visions you had. Tell me why did you run away?" It stuns Sizhui. did he know, no wait what did he know? Lying wouldn't get him anywhere, so he might as well be truthful.

"I'm cursed, or at least that's what other's say. My parents died when I was five and A-Die and Senior Wei took me in. After a while Senior Wei fell ill, with A-Die following along after that."

"Hm... and you thought running away would help?" Sizhui feels ashamed for the first time since he ran. Why did a man who placed a cursed, who almost killed him, wanted to kidnap him, now appeared to be admonishing him as if he did nothing wrong in his life? His mood was all over the place.

"Look kid you had good intentions right? Follow my advice, then. Running won't do you any good, it'll just make things more complicated. I ran instead of talking to others, confiding to others, and look where it took me." He gives him a grin, eyes appearing to water. "How about you go home and let those that love you help?"

"But the curs-"

"I'll take care of it. After all your what 15?"

"I'm 17!" He laughs lightly, painfully reminding him of Senior Wei.

"Take your friend home and leave. By the time you are walking down the mountain, we should break the curse. I just need to collect someone to help me."

"And you could have done this all this time." The devil may care smirk seemed to be a favorite face that Wei Wuxian loved to wear.

"Rule number one of a curse maker. Always know how to break said curse." He walks away, heading down the path that lead to the library. Sizhui wastes no time and wakes up Jin Ling.

"What the hell am I wearing?" As he takes it off, revealing his shirt and pants underneath. Sizhui finds his shoes and jacket in the closet, mindful to keep Jin Ling out of the room with the two dead occupants. No way would he be able to calm Jin Ling. 

Leaving no room for argument or questions, he pushes his cousin out of Hanshi and down the path that would take them down the mountain. Along the way, they met Jingyi and Zhizhen.

He answered their questions the best he could without revealing the horrors he faced. It was especially helpful when Jin Ling could not recall what happened at all. He saw Jin Ling look at him suspiciously, but figured he would explain to him at a later date. Now though was the time to leave this damn mountain.

Zhizhen was the first to hear the distant sounds of Dizi and Guqin playing.

"Wow, that sounds beautiful! Hey, are those fireflies?" The group looked around as orbs of light floated the night sky. Sizhui could feel it. They broke the curse.

Thank Jingyi who did not believe they were fireflies and urged them down the mountain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tow truck came and took them to Moling, where they called their Jin Ling's uncle Jiu'jiu'-Cheng. They could hear him threaten to break his legs if they moved from the spot.

Apparently the boys didn't ask or tell anyone they left to pick him up. He could only imagine how Jiu'jiu'-Cheng would react with him. He was always cautious about how he interacted with him, treating him like he was some porcelain doll. He didn't think that would last long after his latest stunt, though.

The next day, after a vigorous shower and thorough checkup, the injuries he had horrified his friends. He went to the hospital. The place was busy, but not as much as the one coming from his parents' rooms. Nurses were coming in and out, getting things and chit-chatting in excitement.

"What's going on?" he asked gu'gu'-li. Jin Ling's mother Jiang Yanli smiled, the joy reaching her eyes.

"Why don't you see?"

Lan Sizhui walked up to the room. It was a lot to take in.

Last time he was in this room Lan Zhan would just not move. Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying's brother, had to always come in and forcefully move him. Didn't work for long, as he always returned, until he could no longer move. He came to occupy the bed next to his beloved. He stopped coming in after that.

'That goes to show how much he loves Senior Wei.' He thought mournfully.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but the moment he came in heard  the rustling of the bed. It's been so long since he saw those grey eyes filled with mischief and glee. Tears erupted from his eyes.

"Well, there's our little rabbit." Commented Wei Ying, laying back comfortably on the pillow, his voice hoarse from disuse. He held back his gasp with a choke, foot pace quickening as he went to hug him. He felt so frail, and if he hugged him any tighter, he was sure to break him.

The sob came out, but he didn't care. He wasn't embarrassed, he just wanted to make sure that this moment was real. That the nightmares from Gusu manor were long gone. Senior Wei, he wasn't cold; he wasn't menacing and most of all broken. He was here alive! Living, breathing, and so warm. It was just so hard to let go. But he did when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back and seeing those tired golden eyes.

"A-Die." His father turned him around.

"I'm sorry." Why was A-Die sorry? He didn't have to apologize. He was heartbroken. Lan Sizhui knew how much A-Die loves Senior Wei.

"Ah Lan Zhan, take responsibility and hug our little rabbit. Don't you see how worried he must have been." Lan Zhan agrees and hugs him tight. Lan Sizhui's eyes widened, then softened as he returned the hug.

"Don't worry about it. I know how much it hurt."

They stayed at the hospital room the entire day, reminiscing about the past and planning for the future. Jin Ling and the other's would join along. Almost caused them to be expelled, only to be kicked out when Jiu'jiu'-Cheng threatened to break his legs for his stunt. Running away had now permanently put him on the same list as Jin Ling, which said cousin cackled. Traitor.

Needless to say, Senior Wei forced him to stay the night to keep his adorable rabbit and show him all the love in the world.

Sizhui was okay with that as he slept on the couch happily. He was ready to welcome the many more days to come.

[glowonu]

nerdy love by ph-1

here is a cute little songfic i wrote, please enjoy! 

https://youtu.be/FFkLoUwQ9a4

I wake up to the sound of the alarm It rained yesterday but the sun is out now Dress up in the outfit I picked out last night I like to look neat Don’t really care about brand names I’m in a rush to pick you up

Wonwoo rushes around his college dorm, dressed in the outfit he picked last night. The pale sweater contrasts against his black pants. He grabs his keys, wallet, phone, and glasses in a frazzled rush, he wants to see you as soon as possible. The environment looks a little brighter, a little cleaner from last night’s rain. It’s only just cleared up, the clouds quickly disappearing yet raindrops coat the leaves on the trees and the bitumen is soaked dark. 

You light up as you see him across the campus hub. Your heart squeezes as he jogs over to you. He looks incredibly soft, and a little nerdy, but you don’t mind, you wouldn’t have him any other way. You smile up at him and he swears you outshine the sun. Taking his hand, you giggle and head to the river near campus. 

I heard you like yellow sunsets I want to be a cool lover for you But I can’t stop being so damn nerdy Like the male lead in last week’s drama that we watched together I wanna show you a passionate and fiery love But I don’t really have much I’m not that manly And I’m sure sometimes You want a cool, real man

The sun is shining, and the breeze is a little chilly but it’s alright where you’re sitting, on top of your weatherproof jacket, spread across a spot on the bank of the river. You’re chatting about your favourite drama, particularly about the main character who has stolen your infatuation and Wonwoo can’t help but feel a little, well, different from what seems to be your ideal type. He’s mellow, subtle, quiet, nothing like the loud, exuberant and extravagant Ahn Minhyuk, who shows his affections passionately without a care. As you talk about him animatedly, how well he protects the main lead and how he acted on the couple’s last date, he starts to think that maybe you want someone, well, cooler than he is. 

That’s not what love is, stupid  If you can’t stop being you I’ll just be a nerd for you too You know I’m happy seeing you be yourself If you can’t stop being you I’ll just be a nerd for you too It’s not nerdy boy It’s you just sweet babe I’m happy that you’re you

The conversation quietens yet, you’re content. You look over at Wonwoo, he has a faraway look in his eye. You know this look, the one where he gets caught up in all his thoughts. You sit there for a little, just taking him in. His sharp visuals and dark hair, the elegant way his glasses sit on his face, the pink colour of his lips. You smile at him, scooching closer to take his hand. He jumps a little and you giggle at him. Kissing his cheek softly, you try to do what he does so effortlessly; expressing your adoration, so whole and so full, into simple gestures that make your heart burst. His cheeks tinge red, as his eyes widen before he smiles a small, yet very, very cute smile down at you. 

I know you’ll be compared too Your friend’s boyfriend He has a good build, he can piggyback his girl I saw you like that picture Making me feel so small When we’re in a crowded subway car I’ve never pulled you close And I don’t know how to kiss you till your head grows blank I don’t really know baby

After your block of classes, you’re sitting in the library, back with Wonwoo. You have your legs hooked over one of his legs and you’re scrolling through your phone. Wonwoo is reading quietly and unlike you, Wonwoo isn’t as chatty, but it’s okay, you’re content just spending time in his presence. 

You let out a strange half sigh, half surprised exclamation and Wonwoo peers over at you. You’ve tapped on your friend’s instagram page, and the feed is filled with her and Cheol in cute situations. You like the one where your friend is hiked up on Cheol’s back as they pose at the beach, and another one, that was an obvious candid of them held close to each other on the busy tram. Wonwoo really doesn’t like how his brain instantly compares himself to the self-confident Seungcheol. Wonwoo knows he’s shy, he can’t do all those things, and he has to admit that this isn't the first time he’s thought that you might want more from him. He blushes and tries to go back to his book, finding it difficult to focus on the words on the page. 

I’ve been feeling like a huge nerd lately But even though I’m such a loser Why are you looking at me With such a bright smile? I wish I really could change for the better Maybe your every day is a sacrifice for my pathetic self

Maybe if he wasn’t so shy, if he was a little more extraverted, maybe even stronger, maybe he’d feel like a better boyfriend. But there’s this thing about you, that whenever he gets too far into his own head, you bring him back to air, even if you are completely oblivious to his thoughts. This time, your small taps to his cheek grab his attention, and your bright smile is a breath of fresh air for his mind that is drowning in his thoughts. You look at him like a sunflower looks at the sun, but Wonwoo doesn’t understand why, when you’re the brightest entity around. 

I don’t really have much I’m not that manly And I’m sure sometimes You want a cool, real man

Wonwoo wants to give you the world, but for now he squeezes your hand back as you lead him to a surprise date location. You picked him up from his dorm at noon, knowing that he would sleep in. Greeted with a sleepy bed head at the door, you giggled as his eyes widened and rushed to finish getting ready. You’re leading Wonwoo to a surprise that you know he’ll love, and it’s probably not something you’re dying to get involved in, but it’ll make his day, and you really miss his cute little nose scrunch.

That’s not what love is, stupid If you can’t stop being you I’ll just be a nerd for you too You know I’m happy seeing you be yourself If you can’t stop being you I’ll just be a nerd for you too It’s not nerdy boy It’s you just sweet babe I’m happy that you’re you

Your heart swells at the sight of one of Wonwoo’s cutest expressions, his shocked, yet very happy face. His eyes are wide and his mouth has formed a small ‘o’ shape. You giggle, and lead him into the Internet cafe with a small exclamation of ‘Surprise!’. 

Wonwoo looks at you with a bright grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. “You really want to spend our date here?” He asks amazed. 

“Baby, you love this kinda stuff… I may not understand a lot of it but, you love it, and that just, it makes me happy,” You reply shyly, grinning up at him. 

He flusters around a little before, whispering a soft “Thank you,” as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

You really don’t understand a lot of what is going on, but it was one of the best dates that you’ve spent with the man that holds all of your affections. 

I don’t understand What’s wrong with me? I can’t sleep Every night I’ve been losing sleep for you My feelings are free for you

It’s late, and Wonwoo’s phone reads 2:01am but he can’t sleep. Thoughts of you keep him up, and nothing can stop you from overwhelming his mind. Suddenly your name pops up on his notification panel, distracting him from the void of whichever SNS feed he was scrolling through aimlessly. 

[2:03] sunflower: hey babe?

You’re never usually up this late, and Wonwoo anticipates your next message as he watches the three dots appear and disappear multiple times before he receives another message from you.

[2:04] sunflower: i cant sleep, do you wanna, idk, go to the convenience store?  [2:04] sunflower: i’ll meet you there? 

Wonwoo inhales sharply, and types out an impulsive message, sending it quickly. Your phone flashes with the alert of a new message, you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you reply. 

[2:04] nerdy loml: dont worry about it, ill come pick you up. [2:05] you: ok [2:05] you: thanks babe ❤️

I just don’t want to regret anything Cuz we’re special, you and I Can’t stop being so damn nerdy Tell me why am I so damn nerdy

The night air is crisp and fresh, its nippy and cold yet it refreshes your drowsy heads. Your fingers are intertwined with Wonwoo’s as you walk along the bank of the river, licking at the ice cream you bought at the convenience store a mere five minutes ago. The both of you are silent, and there are a lot of unsaid words floating between the both of you. Wonwoo has so much to say yet, he doesn’t want to pierce the silence, he can’t bring himself to express everything he wants to. Yet, he finds he doesn’t have to.

Once again Wonwoo finds himself floating to the surface again, yet this time, it’s almost like a bucket of cold water has been crashed over his head, waking himself up from the drowsy clouds of his mind as you start talking. “I don’t think there is any other person that was meant to be with me like this, as you are Wonwoo,” You whisper into the night, your breath condensing as it meets the cool air. The both of you are facing the river, standing against the fence under the bridge. “You, you’re nerdy, and you’re dorky, but I don’t think I could ever consider asking for someone different.” You continue, “I think I'm the happiest when you are yourself, when you’re comfortable in a hoodie and a beanie at 3 O’clock in the morning, or dressed up for a date that ends up at the PC Bang,” You take a breath and look at him, his eyes locked on you. “Jeon Wonwoo, I love you so much, I hope you know that,”

In all of a sudden, you’re pulled close to him, and he presses his lips softly to yours, kissing you slowly yet with a fervor that he has never kissed you with before. He pulls a fraction away from you, and whispers to you softly as his forehead is pressed against yours, “Thank you,” He starts, “For loving me as much as I love you, Sunflower,” He punctuates his confession with another sweet kiss. You giggle, full of love, the both of you smiling awkwardly into this kiss. 

After all, the both of you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[welllpthisishappening]

By City-Wide Decree

It's a crush.

And in any other situation, that would be it. He'd be able to keep going about his day in normal pining fashion. But nothing about this is normal. Because in the last few minutes Bellamy's complained about shredded cheese and Clarke's making jokes about Bleecker Street and apparently there's some city-wide rule about car services now.

Or: the last thing Bellamy Blake expected during a national health pandemic was being forced to kiss his neighbor.

----

Rating: Teen Word Count: Just over 5.6K AN: Hey there, internet. It was really only a matter of time until I wrote some kind of nonsense here. But I do want to say that this story does include COVID-19 stuff, so if that is not for you, I totally get it. That being said, this admittedly very silly nonsense, is very much just that and hopefully it offers a bit of a distraction for a few minutes. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam

----

He almost drops the box of macaroni in his hand. 

The edge stabs his palm, a weird pain that's really more like the general sense of Bellamy’s frustration because just a few seconds ago he witnessed two grown adults glaring at each other over the final few rolls of toilet paper in aisle five. And there aren’t really that many other people in this grocery store, which he supposes is a good thing. Everyone taking social distancing seriously and staying home and he’s got every intention of doing the same, but first he’s got to deal with this. 

“Pre-shredded cheese,” he mumbles under his breath, glancing at the box. He’s bent the edge. He hopes he doesn’t break the box. There weren’t many left in that aisle, either. Just the one thing of shells Bellamy had been able to grab and four boxes of whole wheat linguine, which, really, almost offends him more than the idea of pre-shredded cheese. 

In a variety of flavors. 

And adjectives. 

“Cheese should not have adjectives attached to it,” Bellamy continues, and apparently he’s reached the crazy portion of his day. 

That also seems to be the standard for most of the world, though. He’d been very close to breaking up the toilet paper fight. So maybe he’s just catching up to everyone else. He needs to go home. He needs to—

“Pick a goddamn cheese,” he says. Whatever sound he makes at his own private conversation isn’t so much a sigh, but rather another round of frustration and possible resignation and taco-flavored cheese can’t be that bad. 

Right? Maybe. 

He can’t imagine what kind of preservatives are used in taco-flavored cheese. Like..are there even spices involved? There should be spices. When all of this is over he’s going to write a strongly worded letter to the Kraft family. 

Bellamy sighs again, drawing more than a few looks and a glare or too, and he’s going to give himself a headache if he keeps rolling his eyes at their current rate. He lunges forward, careful to account for the box of macaroni and the small thing of buttermilk that’s honestly starting to make his fingers go numb and—

An arm moves next to his. 

She’s also a little off-balance — a backpack that’s close to bursting and something that might actually be paint streaked across her left cheek, but Bellamy can barely register that when she’s already starting to stumble back, a package of margarine clutched in her hand. 

“Oh,” Clarke breathes, eyes going wide and what looks like the first hints of a smile tugging at the ends of her mouth. “Hey, Bell.”

His stomach flies into his throat. 

As per usual. 

That might be the most normal part of his day so far. 

To say that he’s been harboring a pretty monumental crush on Clarke Griffin since she moved into the apartment across the hall from Bellamy would be—

Accurate. 

It would be accurate, honestly.

In almost painful fashion. 

Six months ago, she showed up with a handful of boxes and paint on her jeans, and a smile that seemed to reverberate through him. In a way where that doesn’t sound insane. Maybe he wasn’t catching up to everyone else. Maybe he was just sprinting past them. Towards crazy. 

The kind of crazy that also means he’s stupid into his neighbor. 

She’d said hi first that day too. So he offered to help her carry some boxes and she’d promised she’d be ok, but he was stubborn and a little overwhelmed by the very specific color of her eyes and she really did have a lot of stuff and they’d ordered from the Thai place up the street after. 

And if that's not the basis for a pretty solid friendship, then Bellamy isn’t sure what is. 

Only that’s really all it is. Because, well—Bellamy isn’t sure. Octavia would say he’s being an idiot and to some extent that’s true, but he and Clarke are pretty good friends now and sometimes she curls up on the corner of his couch when she’s stressed about the arts budget of the high school she works at in the Bowery or he kicks on her door when he’s got some new pages he thinks she might like to read and it’s—

Good. 

Normal. 

In a world that is very quickly spiraling out of control. 

He hopes those people didn’t actually start yelling over toilet paper. He’s not sure his brain would be able to cope with that. 

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asks, taking another step back and he hadn’t noticed she’s got another bag of art supplies in her left hand. 

“Glaring at cheese.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Glaring at cheese,” Bellamy repeats. He nods towards the minimal selection, Clarke’s eyes widening at his admittedly petty reaction to the cheese issue. It should not be an issue. “I—well, I’m running low on some food and I—” He grits his teeth, suddenly hopeful that he’ll be able to melt into the supermarket floor. 

That’s probably not hygienic. 

“Is it super top secret, then?” Bellamy clicks his tongue. “No, it’s—ok, do you promise not to laugh?” “Absolutely not.” “You look like you staged a battle getting here.” “Nah,” she objects, but there’s a slight blush creeping across her cheeks and it’s probably wrong to feel some kind of victory at that. Just, like—with everything else going on. Flirting should probably be a low priority at this point. 

“Then…” “Why are you angry at the cheese?” “Mostly the selection of cheese,” Bellamy admits. “Because I’m supposed to use a very specific kind, so—” “—For what?” “My mom’s mac and cheese recipe.” She gapes at him. Which is not the reaction he was hoping for, really. He’s not sure what would be better, but he had been pretty partial to the blush and he’s positive this is somehow the paint streak’s fault. 

Clarke has a habit of getting paint everywhere. 

There’s still a stain on his floor from three weeks ago. 

“Did you think I was going to laugh at you making your mom’s mac and cheese recipe during an international health pandemic?” Clarke cries. It draws another round of curious stares and one set of incredibly narrow eyes from a woman with a cropped haircut and a cart practically overflowing with paper products. 

Clarke sneers. “I might actually fight someone for bulk-buying things. God, people are—” “—The worst?” “Is that why you’d thought I’d laugh at you being adorable?”

Bellamy forgets all about his stomach and its current location in his throat. He’s far more preoccupied with the matter of his exploding heart. Which is not nearly as painful an experience as he would have assumed. 

His smile threatens to take up most of his face, muscles unaccustomed to the movement when everything else seems to be going to shit. He hopes standing this long in the dairy aisle doesn’t adversely affect the buttermilk. 

That’s a key part of the recipe too. 

“Adorable, huh?” “Oh shut up,” Clarke grumbles, kicking her foot out of habit. She’s still a few feet away from him. That probably shouldn’t be disappointing either. In any situation, honestly. “Seriously, are you out here being weird about cheese because—” “—A quick detour out of adorable.” “Only because you keep interrupting me.”

He smiles wider. “When I was a kid, my mom used to make this mac and cheese for every major event. Birthdays, holidays, great grade on a test.” “Because you were a nerd?” “Look who’s interrupting the flow of the story.” “You should consider speeding up your approach” Clarke laughs. “The lady with forty-thousand paper napkins might come back and start pelting you with them for taking so long.” “You think she bought those paper napkins for reasons not related to eating food?” “God.” His shoulders shake a little when he chuckles — another threat to the pasta and his grip on any of the groceries he’s trying very hard to buy. “Moral of the story? I’m stressed out, people continue to be the worst, I saw a bunch of people, including actual grown adults, sitting out in Washington Square like nothing is wrong, so in an attempt to combat the general horribleness of the world I am going to make my mom’s mac and cheese recipe. Only apparently a lot of other people have had the same thought—” “—About your mom’s mac and cheese recipe?” 

“Bring the paper napkin lady back here so I can throw stuff at you.” Clarke grins, and the overall brightness of her eyes is probably just a byproduct of the lighting in the dairy aisle of Gristedes. Or so Bellamy will tell himself for the next forty-eight hours. 

“Taco cheese does not scream mac and cheese,” he continues. “But I’m also not willing to stage some sort of quest for the appropriate kind of cheddar. Or blocks of cheese.”

“It can’t be shredded cheese?” “Eh. I’m willing to make some sacrifices at this point.” “Wow,” Clarke drawls. “How gallant of you. And you wanted to make it yourself, then? No thoughts of take-out from Murray’s.”

“Don’t insult me like that.” “You have issues with a place that actually has cheese in its name?” “Murray’s Cheese Bar is an overpriced tourist trap that does not need my business to stay in business. I’m sure they’re perfectly fine.” “Murray himself?” “Or whatever corporate chain that place is owned and operated by. Plus, have you ever had their cheese plate? Like—just, it was gross. We got, maybe, half a dozen crackers.”

Clarke presses her lips together, but her laugh still manages to find its way into the six-feet of mandated space between her and Bellamy. “Did Octavia order the cheese plate at Murray’s once?” “And a bottle of chianti.” “Fancy.” “Gross,” Bellamy amends. “I can’t stand red wine.” “Why didn’t I know that you hated Murray’s so much? Do you feel that way about—” “—Most of the places on Bleecker?” Bellamy finishes, ignoring Clarke’s wide-eyed stare at yet another interruption. They have got to get out of this store. The processed air is obviously going to his head. Or, whatever. 

Maybe just the state of his heart. “Down with the establishment, huh?” Clarke quips. She absolutely, positively does not rock towards him. Bellamy is sure. 

He hums, and maybe his issue really lies in the overall state of his heart. Explosions cannot be healthy. In a biological sense. “Why are you here, then? I’m assuming it’s not just to share the very high opinions you’ve got about the restaurants on Bleecker.” “Ok, that is not what I said at all. I’m not advocating we start doing some kind of Bleecker restaurant crawl when this is all over, even if that one Gelato place on the corner is good.” “Tourist trap.” “Is the oxygen thinner on that high horse you’re riding?” Bellamy scrunches his nose when he makes a vaguely ridiculous noise in the back of his throat, part agreement, part unspoken suggestion to keep talking. “Whatever,” Clarke grumbles. “I am here because I needed butter to make cookies. But there’s only this garbage.” 

She brandishes the margarine, arm flung out in front of her and Bellamy refuses to be held accountable for whatever noise he makes at that. Just as ridiculous as the last one. With even more flirting involved. 

“I walked down here,” Clarke adds. “There are no other stores open and—” “—Walked from where?” Bellamy asks sharply. He doesn’t mean for the words to come out quite like that, but he’s also not entirely sure what feeling is shooting down either one of his arms. 

He’s very glad Octavia isn’t here. 

She’d make fun of him. 

More so than usual. 

“Relax,” Clarke mutters, jerking the bag at her side. “I needed stuff for class, but most of my supplies are still at school and it’s not like I can get into school any time soon, so I went up to Marmorino. Nyko agreed to open for, like, twenty minutes so I could get some new brushes and—” She shrugs, all nonchalance. Like walking twenty blocks to the art supply store in the middle of that previously discussed pandemic so she can keep teaching kids how to paint isn't equal parts absurd and wonderful.  “What are you going to paint?” Bellamy asks. “We’re doing life studies. Figured it’d be a good way to get parents involved too. You know, kids paint their mom or their dad or...whatever. Like I said, I just needed a brushes. And butter.”

“Those go hand in hand, huh? You know I have butter.”

Clarke blinks. And her grip on the bag noticeably loosens. “What?” “Butter,” he repeats. “That’s how this all started. I kept opening my fridge and the butter was sitting there, like it was taunting me and—”

“—Can the butter form coherent sentences?” “I’m offering you butter, princess. And mac and cheese. If you want it.”

Another blink. 

That’s...Bellamy doesn’t want to consider what that is. Because this is not the first time he’s done this. Or vice versa. Far from it. They both live alone and they’re friends and it’s not that far across the hall, after all. 

There’s just not usually an international health pandemic involved. 

“Yeah?” Clarke asks softly, like she’s waiting to shout surprise. Or throw paper napkins at them for standing in the dairy aisle for so long. 

Bellamy nods. “Yeah. That’s how humanity survives, right? We pool resources and seek out companionship in times of difficulty.” “Something like that, I’m sure.” “Ok, so you leave the gross margarine here and I’ll deal with the taco cheese.” “I have cheddar in my fridge.” Maybe this is a dream. Maybe the after-effects of his exploding heart have left Bellamy hallucinating in the middle of Gristedes. Maybe he got food poisoning from the cheese plate at Murray’s when Octavia visited three weeks ago and he’s only just now discovering it.

Clarke smiles. 

“If you want it,” she adds. “I—well, I’d had big plans for grilled cheese quarantines, but there was only block cheese at that point and I haven’t even opened it. Yours for the taking.” He nods slowly, trying to come to terms with all of this. It’s not flirting. No one flirts like this. They shouldn’t flirt like this. 

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. “That’d be great. A, uh—COVID team, huh?” Idiot. 

Idiot. 

He’s sure Octavia knows about this. Somehow. A sixth sense that alerts his younger sister to his overwhelming idiocy and she’d been annoyed that he hadn’t invited Clarke to Murray’s with them. 

“Something like that,” Clarke says again. “Ok, then let me pay for a car back home. I don’t know if my shoulders can cope with this backpack and—do not offer to carry this backpack for me,” she adds as soon as Bellamy opens his mouth, “I’ll get the paper napkin lady back here, I swear to God.” “She’d probably call a manager on you.”

Clarke scoffs, but her smile hasn’t changed and Bellamy spends most of the next twenty-four minutes standing in the checkout line thinking only about that. Until Clarke tells the guy in front of them to “stop being a dick” to the cashier when he starts complaining about the lack of bread in aisle two. 

The guy doesn’t say anything else after that. 

And the cashier definitely mumbles “thanks” when Bellamy puts his slightly bent box of pasta on the conveyor belt. 

They don’t spend long waiting for the car — and Bellamy can’t imagine business is exactly booming, which is part of the reason he agreed to this and the rest is entirely selfish and possibly a little stalker’ish and he just likes spending time with Clarke. No matter the world’s collective health situation. 

“You two together?” the driver asks, hardly opening the window and it’s not easy to understand what he’s saying.  

Bellamy furrows his brows. “Excuse me?” He swings open the door, sliding across the backset and moving his feet so Clarke’s backpack can fit comfortably between them. And he’s not one to pass judgement, particularly not now, but the whole thing looks a bit like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. There are sheets of plastic wrap stretched between the front seats, the driver wearing gloves and casting impatient glances in his rearview mirror. 

Bellamy glances at Clarke’s phone — the driver’s name is Bryan. 

“C’mon man,” Bryan presses. “I need an answer.” “I don’t—” Bellamy starts, shaking his head and that dream theory is starting to make more and more sense. “What are you talking about?”

“The rules.” “Ok, that doesn’t clear it up. Can we just go?” “Nope. I need you to tell me. I don’t want my license revoked.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Clarke lets out a soft gasp, eyes going impossibly wide. “Shit. Are you kidding me?” “What part of nope are you guys having a difficult time wrapping your heads around?” Bryan asks. “Listen, I can’t break the law, ok? I—we’re living in crazy times and—” “—Seriously what are you talking about?” Bellamy snaps. 

Bryan takes a deep breath, shoulders moving with the effort, and Clarke hasn’t looked Bellamy’s direction in what feels like an eternity. He can’t rationalize the chill that slinks down his spine, a growing dread that threatens to tug him through the backseat or take up residence in between his ribs and he’s got to stop making so many sweeping biological assessments. 

There are no facts to back any of this up. 

And yet he can’t quite understand the look on Clarke’s face either, teeth digging into her lower lip while she refuses to meet his gaze. “Guys,” Bryan groans. “In or out, yes or not, just—prove it.” Bellamy opens his mouth again, ready to demand answers if need be, but Clarke is already talking and the words don’t process immediately — mandate from the mayor and I totally forgot and only real couples. 

She grits her teeth when she finally looks up, a pained expression that almost makes Bellamy shiver. It’s unnaturally warm in the city that afternoon. “Did you not see the press conference?” she mutters. He shakes his head. “I, uh—I totally forgot about it, but ride-share services are still cool and essential, they just...if you share, you have to be a couple.” “Real couple too,” Bryan adds. “That’s what the mayor said.” Clarke squeezes one eye shut. “He did, yeah.”

Bellamy has no idea what’s happening. That’s not hyperbole. He genuinely cannot keep up with the conversation or the events of the last few hours and he’s certain this is now somehow the fault of the paper napkin lady and those toilet paper people and— “So,” Bryan continues, “either prove it or lose it?” “Lose what, exactly?” Bellamy rasps. He doesn’t take his eyes off Clarke, can see just how tight her jaw has gone and the exact moment her tongue flashes between her lips and maybe it would just be better for everyone if he grabbed her backpack and sprinted the fifteen blocks back to their apartment. 

Apartment building. 

They don’t live in the same apartment. 

Seriously, screw the toilet paper people. 

“My services,” Bryan answers. “Seriously. I’m not getting fucked over by this. So prove you're a real couple or start walking.” “And how would you like us to do that, exactly?” “Kiss her.” It is several different miracles that Bellamy does not rip down Bryan’s plastic wrap wall right then and there. He considers it, fingers flexing and head at a sudden angle while he glares at the rearview mirror. But something keeps him from actually reacting and it might be Clarke’s soft ok a few inches away. 

They are no longer the appropriate six feet apart. 

“Wait, what?” Bellamy asks, only marginally disappointed when his voice manages to crack over both words. 

Clarke’s smile doesn’t waver, but it shifts slightly — a little cautious and a little nervous and, maybe, a little hopeful. She leans forward, ignoring the goddamn backpack and how straight Bellamy’s spine has gone, breathing quickly like he did run those fifteen blocks. “Just a kiss, right?” she mutters. “Couples kiss. That’s—” “—Real couples,” Bryan amends. Bellamy might strangle Bryan before they get out of this car. 

“Right, right, right. And that’s—it’s not a big deal.” Bellamy’s never going to blink again. 

“I don’t know how else to double check,” Bryan admits. 

Clarke hums, still moving and Bellamy doesn’t flinch when her hand lands on his bent knee. So, points or whatever. Her tongue flashes once more, a soft huff of air that barely reaches his cheek when she’s close enough and this can’t possibly be sanitary. 

God, he does not want to be thinking about that now. 

Bellamy doesn’t remember bending his neck, but it appears to have happened anyway, curls threatening to fall in his eyes. That’s not right. The top of Clarke’s backpack digs into his chest, what feels like an actual paint brush pushing against the side and he’s going to say something. He is. He’s going to promise that he can walk and he’ll carry the backpack and just meet her at home, but none of the words seem all that interested in coming out of his mouth and his lips pop softly when they part, another bit of movement and a direct violation of social distancing and—

His eyes flutter shut when Clarke kisses him. 

With Bryan watching intently. 

And it’s not...well, it’s not quite the way Bellamy had always imagined when he’d let himself imagine this. Far more often than he should. It’s stilted and awkward, weird angles and bumped noses. It’s chins jostling for position and that fucking backpack, both of them far too aware of the two bags of groceries at their feet. 

Bellamy does his best not to actually sigh — even more frustration, that does not belong in a situation like this, but then his eyes open and the tip of Clarke’s tongue finds his lips and everything kind of spirals after that. 

His hand flies up, curling into her hair and pulling her closer, a crunch that is absolutely the box of shells, but the shells can go fuck off for all Bellamy cares. He opens his mouth, lets his head tilt slightly until they find a rhythm that’s a bit like driving at seventy miles an hour on an open highway. That’d be impossible anywhere in New York. 

Even under quarantine. 

And yet. Bellamy feels like he’s rushing towards something, everything and anything and a variety of words that should be far more overwhelming than they are. He nips at Clarke’s lower lip, lets his nose drag along her cheek until he’s practically tracing that streak of paint and the sound that draws will be branded on every inch of him for the foreseeable future. They only break apart to catch their breath, the rhythm going almost desperate when Clarke’s nails scratch at the back of Bellamy’s neck and—

Bryan coughs. 

He might not tip Bryan. 

No, he’ll definitely tip Bryan. It’s a fucking pandemic. 

Bellamy’s not a total dick. 

Just…

“So, uh, cool,” Bryan says, already pulling out onto the street. “Thanks for the, uh—for the demonstration, then.” Clarke jerks back. 

And Bellamy feels like he’s been thrown in the East River. Specifically. Because that river is notoriously grosser than the Hudson. 

He’s gross. 

He twists, trying to put as much space between them as possible when they’re still in Bryan’s silver Toyota Camry. And he doesn’t actually count the minutes that it takes to get back to their building, but it’s awfully close because it seems to take a lifetime and happen far too soon, Clarke mumbling her thanks and hoping Bryan doesn’t have to drive too much in the future and Bellamy doesn’t want to think about the state of that box of shells. 

It feels far too literal. 

And they don’t rush up the stairs, both Bellamy and Clarke taking even steps as they do their mutual and collective best to stare at their shoes. But then he’s tugging his keys out of his back pocket and the air feels like it’s crackling around him, enough tension to power the island of Manhattan — especially when Clarke follows him inside his apartment.

“So, uh—” she starts, a click of her jaw when she notices the look on Bellamy’s face. 

His eyes have started to water, they’re so wide, standing in the middle of his exceptionally tiny living room. “Clarke, I—” “—Oh shit, I forgot the butter.” “Clarke.” “No, no, I should go get the butter, right? Yeah. That’s—shit, I didn’t even think. I...sorry, sorry, it’s—” She shakes her head brusquely, like she’s trying to shake away the awkwardness and Bellamy wishes there weren’t any awkwardness. He wishes he’d asked her out before the world started falling apart. 

He’s back in her space in a few more steps, fingers finding her flailing hands. She’s biting her lip again. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” “No?” “Absolutely not,” Bellamy promises. “I might, though. I just—I didn’t realize what was going on and then—” “I’m going to go get the butter,” Clarke announces, sounding almost disappointed at the idea. She pulls her hands back, a quick hiss of pain when she manages to elbow herself in the side in the process, all but running out of his apartment. Her backpack is still on his couch. 

Bellamy doesn’t move. He’s not sure he can, honestly. His legs feel like they’ve locked themselves in place, waiting with those same wide eyes for something he’s not sure he can have because it can’t possibly happen like this and Octavia is probably hysterical on the other side of the country. 

And he’s still not counting seconds or minutes, when he finally manages to get his feet to cooperate. So he can wash his hands. Like a responsible adult. Not one who hoards paper products. 

The footsteps that return to his still-open door a little slower than usual. 

“You didn’t close your door,” Clarke points out. She kicks back, a tremulous smile and Bellamy can’t believe this is going to happen while she’s holding butter. And at least two pounds of flour. He’s not sure what’s going to happen, exactly. “Did you even turn your oven on?” He shakes his head. “No.” “Real fond of that word all of a sudden, aren’t you?”

Bellamy doesn’t think he imagines the edge in her voice, narrowing his eyes slightly like that will help him pick up on certain conversational cues. It doesn’t — especially when Clarke breezes by him, marching into her kitchen like it’s hers or could be hers and that’s probably when he decides. What he wants to happen. “Do you want to make the cookies or the mac and cheese first?” she asks, and that question sounds more determined than any Bellamy’s heard before. Some of the tension in his shoulders disappears.

“Hey, will you talk to me?” 

“About something other than our cooking order?” “Yeah,” Bellamy nods. “Definitely about something other than our cooking order.” “I’m really hungry, though.”

His laugh has a certain strangled quality to it, but that may be a product of his heart, recently reformed and re-exploded. As soon as Bellamy realized what kissing Clarke was like. “I’m not going to let you starve,” Bellamy says. “Just—c’mon, look at me at least.”

She doesn’t. She pushes up on her toes instead, stabbing at the buttons on his oven. Bellamy sighs, doing his best not to start proclaiming things, giving voice to the sentiment that’s been bouncing around his soul for the better part of the last six months, and the flour that’s sitting on his minimal counter space is half open. 

The top’s rolling up, a haphazard curl to the paper, which only makes it easier to reach his hand inside without Clarke noticing. 

And immediately flick his fingers in Clarke’s direction. 

Her eyes flash, mouth dropping open, but Bellamy just grins, another flick that leaves flour clinging to Clarke’s cheek and the ends of her hair and she’d never washed that paint streak off. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demands. 

“Got you to look at me.” “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Am I laughing?”

Clarke groans, trying to shake the flour off. All it does is ensure her hair shifts and the smell of her shampoo takes over most of the air in his kitchen. “You’re an idiot,” she sneers, “that’s what you are. I’m trying to feed us and—” “—You’re really very concerned about that. We’ve got to reorganize this conversation.”

Bellamy needs to get more flour before he can go for the third flick, but that proves to be his undoing. Clarke moves before he can, reflexes that he’d like to have a very serious discussion about eventually and she doesn’t flick. She slams her hand into his chest, a perfectly formed print in the middle of his shirt, twisting the fabric under her like that will make sure the mark stays there. 

Things are starting to feel a little literal again. 

At least he hopes so. 

So, it’s only reasonable and passably romantic to retaliate in kind — letting his flour-covered fingers flutter over Clarke’s hair and one of them gasps, but it’s difficult to figure out when they’re as close as they are, her hands dragging across his side and dangerously close to the top of his jeans and Bellamy’s definitely the one who groans when Clarke works her way under the hem of his shirt. 

Clarke beams. Bright and honest and her eyes are blue enough that Bellamy briefly considers getting lost in them for those minutes he’s still refusing to count, but then—

“God, I can’t believe I had to use some stupid marshall law bullshit to kiss you,” he mutters. 

“Is marshall law the right term there?” “No, not at all.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, hand staying exactly where it is. “I didn’t think so. And I—this was not some elaborate ruse, just for the record.” “Were you looking for elaborate ruses to make out with me?” “We’ve got to work on your vocabulary. Make out doesn’t seem right either.” “A work in progress.” “For the words, or…” She gasps again. Presumably because Bellamy’s ducking his head and his arm has curled around her middle and it’s easier to kiss her when there isn’t a backpack between them. Bellamy’s hand flattens against the small of Clarke’s back, a curve there that is quite suddenly the only thing he’d like to talk about for the remainder of the day. 

And they’re just as good at this as they were in Bryan’s car, but there’s something inherently different about the second go-around. An ease to the angles and the now-familiar rhythm, like they’d simply been waiting for the chance or the opportunity and—

“Maybe make out was an acceptable description,” Clarke mumbles against Bellamy’s mouth. He grins, dropping down so he can kiss her jaw and the side of her neck, only a little pleased with the goosebumps he notices there. “Oh, don’t get smug,” Clarke adds, “that’s not a good look on you.” “That certainly sounds like you’ve got opinions on my looks, actually.”

She clicks her tongue, leaning back to get in his eye line. “Maybe a few.” “A few?” “Bell, c’mon, that’s—” “—I have a very big crush on you.” Clarke blinks. Opens her mouth only to close it. Smiles. Scoffs. Blinks again. And then she’s kissing him and it’s good and great and both of those things feel wrong during a pandemic, but Bellamy assumes there's something to be said for the human spirit. Or whatever. 

“Makes for a good story, though,” Clarke says, eyes gone a color Bellamy’s never seen before. “You know, if you’re looking for something to write about.” “You want me to write about us? I write history books.” “Is this not historic?” “Oh, now who’s fishing for compliments,” Bellamy chuckles. Clarke blushes. Again, or still. “I would have liked to kiss you under less dramatic circumstances, but, uh—it also wasn’t the worst first kiss I’ve ever had.” “High praise.” “We’re very good at kissing each other.” “Yeah, I figured we would be.” “Did you just?” Clarke hums. “I’m pretty sure my friends had some kind of pool going. Especially now. When I’d finally give in and just like...attack you with my mouth or something. I talk about you all the time. At school. To Raven. Strangers on the street.” “Strangers on the street?” “I mean, Bryan assumed we were a couple.” “That’s because the mayor required him too,” Bellamy argues. “But, uh—I get the opinionated peanut gallery. O was convinced we were secretly dating when she was here.” “Before or after the chianti?” “Well before.” “Oh,” Clarke says, like that’s somehow surprising or good. Bellamy hopes it’s good. He’d like some good at this point. “You should probably change shirts.” “That sounds like a suggestion to take my shirt off.” “Wow, weird.” Her laugh turns into something far closer to a giggle when he kisses behind her ear, a fact he’s already stored for future reference, but then they’re moving and there are discarded clothes and kicked off shoes and neither one of them bothers to get up when the oven finishes pre-heating. 

“I have a crush on you too,” Clarke says, head propped up on her hand. In Bellamy’s bed. They’re in Bellamy’s bed. 

Her backpack is still on his couch. “Good,” he grins. “You want to eat, or…” “God, I’d thought you’d never ask.” And they do make both things, Clarke announcing that this is the best mac and cheese I’ve ever had while Bellamy does an absolutely terrible job of stealing cookie batter on the sly. She moves her backpack eventually too — into the corner of his living room. It’s easier that way, something about pandemics and limiting movement and if one of her students notices the change of scenery during their live-streamed class two days later, none of them say anything.