#also a horrid contributer.

[junkie-virus]

(muttering) i dont want to die i just need to go outside i dont want to die i just need to go outside i dont want to die i just need to go outside i dont want to die i just need to go outsi

[mushroom-for-art]

Nvm we're back to movie au because I'm feeling soft featuring obviously our fav @oogaboogaspookyman horrid little bastard who is no longer a horrid bastard but is now a well mannered British little bastard beloved we love the difference

Accident

It happened very quickly. An incorrectly secured light fixture crashed down onto set smashing and destroying the background pieces scattering glass everywhere and set alight. The fire spread beginning to burn all the props due to the paint that was used, background pieces set alight in a blink, it crawled up the background canvases and spread across the rafters, the lights cracking fizzling out with loud bangs sending the building into darkness and panic.

A support beam collapsed over a fire escape as employees screamed and panicked they ran around coughing desperate for an exit one of them grabbed a fire extinguisher to put out the source but was grabbed by the monochrome Mewtwo who snarled about it being an electrical fire from the light you idiot. May coughed her lungs becoming tight as she looked around with difficulty through the quickly gathering smoke and smog, she was in a panic stuck to the spot. She could see her brother lying on the floor, his head was bleeding. He'd been knocked out as a dark Mewtwo stood over him trying to get the debris off of him.

Screams of panic ringed in her ears making her head throb, why weren't the sprinklers turning on? Oh god were they going to die in here? Burn alive due to inadequate safety measures. There were so many people and pokemon here too many lives that'd be too much death. Coughing screaming yelling panic. More people were collapsing or lying down to escape the smoke for air as it filled up the room heavily weighing down on them all. She couldn't let everyone in here die!

The monochromatic Mewtwo felt the tingling of psychic energy in his fingertips like electricity and before he could yell at May ask what the hell she was doing- he was outside. They were all outside. He spun on the spot levitating slightly looking around in a frenzy, the building crackled and the fire raged on. Everyone was out. No. Not everyone.

"May!"

He yelled quickly flying overhead scanning through the crowd of people that had been teleported out the building he flew down towards her manager, the odd dark hued mewtwo with crystals embedded in her body.

"Wheres May?!"

He half asked half demanded as the Two tended to Matts injuries.

"Is she not out here? I saw her eyes glowing?" She asked shushing Matt who groaned and pushed him down gently when he tried to sit up groggily asking where his sister was.

"If she was out here I wouldn't be asking where she was!"

The frustrated monochrome two snarled at her before looking back at the building in growing horror as he heard a loud creak realizing that she was still inside and hadn't been able to get out.

Without really thinking he flew rapidly at the building, being a ghost had its advantages as he phased through the wall keeping an incorporeal state to avoid the effects of smoke as he looked around frantically. The building was thick with black billowing smoke that rolled in waves blocking his view. He couldn't use psychic to move it as it had nowhere to go and it could shove air into the fire. He frantically scanned around, focusing to sense her aura.

In his altered vision he spotted a faint orange glow that began to flicker and falter weakening and quickly flew towards it, she was on the floor passed out either from smoke inhalation or exhaustion from teleporting that many people out of a building with her already weak powers or both. He became corporeal and coughed against the smoke and the horrible heat as he wrapped his arms under hers to haul her up to carry her.

"I'm not letting you die here you blithering idiot,"

He chastised as he pulled her up attempting to hold her and realizing she was heavy as dead weight and the growing smoke in his lungs was weakening his strength, not to mention the flames were creeping in starting to stretch out and lick at his tail and legs in a way that would likely burn. He snorted frustrated, he pulled her up, arms wrapping around her waist as she made a soft mumble noise.

He realized that flames were closing in, his eyes were watering from smoke and heat as he coughed, he could become ghostly while he had the strength but then he wouldn't be able to interact with her, he could save himself but he wouldn't! He wouldn't just let her die here and save his own skin. He hissed as a flame splashed against him snarling towards it before coughing, breathing becoming harder. He heard another long drawn out creak, and a snap, and a fall. Another support beam came falling down right on top of them, he dropped to a crouch holding his body over hers desperate to summon any strength left into a barrier or any kind of protection.

Another crash could be heard from the building, it took multiple staff members and Pokemon to hold back Matt and Darkness, Matt screamed and yelled profanities at them telling, no, demanding them to let him go because his sister was in there. Darkness also shouted at them to see sense that both the mewtwo in that building inch closer to death every second they waste stopping them. They both went quiet as a large flame burst out from the roof of the building with a loud BOOM.

Matt crumbled in the grip of the people restraining him, falling to his knees as he began to sob in despair and pain. Darkness could only stare forward at the raging flames and thick smoke.

It took hours for the fire department to put the flames out, they were aggressive and unrelenting and the thick smoke meant the trained personnel needed to swap out to a safe distance to regain their breath. When the fire finally dimmed to a manageable flicker it was growing dark, the fire had started in the afternoon…

Search and rescue began their job and once more Darkness was restrained, she wasn't trained like they were, they knew how to move rubble without causing it to collapse elsewhere potentially crushing any survivors, she did not. She could only watch in frustration as they slowly methodically did their job. She'd refused care due to her wounds already healing from the synergy energy, Matt had to be given light sedatives for his aggression so he was more, agreeable, about being taken away to be seen for his head injury and assorted burns.

A Gurdurr and Medicham worked together, the Medicham scanning the surroundings with psychic energy to get a mental blueprint of the chaos and carefully instructing Gurdurr on which parts to lift to safely deconstruct the wreckage without causing it to collapse. The Gurdurr carefully threw aside a large ceiling concrete slab before vocalizing to the Medicham. A swirling white and black dome like shape sat planted into the ground with debris piled on top of it. The Medicham vocalized to the other pairs to come help as they began to remove the debris, the human supervisors coming along too, as the broken building was removed the dome seemed to reduce in opacity becoming semi see through.

Inside May and the monochromatic Mewtwo clung to one another desperately, his eyes were shut with dark psychic energy pouring out from the sides of his closed eyes waving and flowing out. May's eyes were wide open but unseeing, completely whitened over and glowing faintly with her psychic energy. Neither of them seemed aware of the situation both just clinging as the dark and white psychic energy protecting them both swirled around them both desperately wanting to protect the other, forming one rather indestructible long lasting protect.

When the last piece of debris was safely removed one of the human search and rescue members gently knocked their knuckles against the very dense protect dome, "can you two hear us?" May's eyes faltered into half lids her psychic energy sparking and fading from her eyes and the dome, she blinked slowly and blinked again before slumping completely limp in the monochrome ones arms as her grip slipped from him, his eyes opened in a start the dark psychic energy overflowing from his eyes darkening the dome over as he snarled before he blinked realizing that it was help. His psychic energy gently blew away in a breeze before he shivered at the cold.

The psychic search and rescue members lifted May's unconscious body onto a stretcher to be taken to an ambulance while the people attempted to look the monochromatic one over. He shoved them away flying up and wobbling slightly in tiredness but followed them into the ambulance taking up the relative seat in the ambulance next to May as they began trying to help her much to Darkness' frustration at the audacity. He slapped away attempts to look him over, snarling at the ambulance worker to focus on the unconscious one, not him.

——————————————————————

The monochrome ones' leg bounced irritated and frustrated as he sat in a chair next to the orange hued Mewtwos hospital bed. He'd been forcefully seen to, so his wounds were bandaged up and he'd been given oxygen and instructions to not go near lung irritants and just to take cough drops for his throat and rest and get sleep. However sleep he would not do, he'd been up all night besides her having left his own bed watching over her in her room, her smoke inhalation had been worse than his as was her burns, she had a breathing mask on to help ensure she got enough oxygen which also acted as a filter that helped remove the lingering smoke in her lungs with each exhale. He'd dragged a night nurse into the room in a panic when he noticed her condition becoming worse, her over exhaustion leading to sickness and a fever so she'd been put on some drip fluids too due to how weakened she was from over exerting herself with her powers.

He'd paced the room multiple times, aggressively straightening the curtains to ensure no moonlight crept in and disturbed her, made sure the blanket properly covered her and tucked her in, fluffed her cushion, checked her medical sheet and that she was hooked up properly multiple times. As of right now he was gently holding her wrist, his fingers pressing faintly to feel her pulse, just to be sure the machines were correct that's all. He sighed softly hanging his head as his leg bounced, the TV in the room mumbled nonsense that he couldn't make out as he was actively ignoring it, especially as it was talking about the fire, his fingers moved down her wrist brushing over her palm hesitantly choosing to rest his two main fingers in her palm pressing them against her hand and squeezing with his thumb at the back of her hand, an unsure hand squeeze without committing to a full hand hold.

He was beginning to grow frustrated ready to aggressively sort her room out again when her thumb twitched and the best it could, squeezed his fingers against her palm. He looked up to see her eyes barely open as if her eyelids were incredibly heavy which they probably were for her.

"Who's getting sued…?" Her voice was incredibly small and croaked before she coughed realizing she definitely shouldn't have spoken. He panicked slightly moving his hand and getting a glass of water for her saying gently,

"hey hey easy,"

He carefully adjusted her bed position so it slowly lifted her into a slanted sitting position not perfectly upright just so she'd still be resting and comfortable, he carefully helped pull back the breathing mask and held the glass to her lips with psychic encouraging her to take small sips less she start coughing again, refusing to move his hand from where it gently half held hers.

When she'd drank about half he put it down and replaced the mask as she breathed and smiled at him, her hand shifted and squeezed his properly holding it, "if you wanted to hold hands you could've asked, didn't need to burn a building down." She made a soft laugh as she squeezed his hand again, her usual cheery joking self despite what happened.

His mouth opened slightly and shut in surprise both at the fact they were now just squeezing each others hands and that was embarrassing and also the accusation though empty.

"I'll burn this whole goddamn building down,"

He chuntered unhappily before pausing and looking back at May.

"Hold on, no, you do not get to get out of this so easy by joking around, what the hell were you thinking?! You could've died?! Why didn't you teleport yourself out with everybody else!"

Admittedly his tone was a lot harsher than he'd meant it to be as May stared at him in surprise before her eyes looked away from him.

"I'm, sorry, I wasn't really, thinking about saving me, just that I couldn't let everyone else die. And even then you still got hurt," her voice was soft and guilty.

The monochrome one stared at her a bit before looking away he went to open his mouth to speak.

"Wait, where's Matt? Is he okay?! I saw his head bleeding? Did he get help?!" May tried to sit herself up and he gently but firmly pushed her back down.

"Your brother is fine he's in another room getting spoiled by some male nurses, now would you STOP thinking about everybody else and fucking think about yourself in this?! You have horrid burns, you inhaled so much smoke and you got a feverish sickness because your body was so weak and overworked! What if I hadn't found you or realized you weren't outside with us?! There's a very real chance you could've died in that fire! I could've- we. We could have lost you. And you have a lot of people who care about you. So why don't you?"

May gripped the bed sheets uncomfortably as she sat there again avoiding his gaze as his eyes softened and he frowned at her. She shrugged uncomfortably and he could see her struggling for the words and the anxiety prickling inside her. He gently squeezed her hand waiting to give her a fair chance to answer.

"....I just don't find that there's much to care about.." Her voice was riddled with guilt as she struggled, "I know, well just, I know compared to a lot of others that I'm, different." She moved her spare hand vaguely, "and, that, made it hard to connect to people, and as well I'm weak, I mean a mewtwo who can't even use her powers properly for herself, pft. Don't have much going for me overall. I know I'm, loud and optimistic and seem confident and sure but, I don't really like myself. Not really. I don't know. Maybe some horrid self pitying self obsessed part of myself believed I didn't really deserve to be saved like everyone else so that's why I wasn't teleported out too, and I guess maybe that self absorbed part of me went well look at that now we can't do anything because you used up all your strength and you're going to let yourself die because you're so pitiful and weak just to what make a point." She shrugged awkwardly, grabbing at her shoulder, "you got hurt because overall I'm a bad person, too obsessed with myself, I mean I'm a lot luckier than other people. I'm much better off than other people and yet here I am feeling sorry for myself and not liking myself. How selfish is that?" She squeezed her own shoulder to self soothe as the guilt began to creep in. "God I'm sorry, I shouldn't have dumped all that on you, here I am again being the biggest selfish, no, no I'm sorry I'm, spiralling you don't need to hear me insult myself because that just manipulates you into having to pity me and tell me it's fine and it's okay when it's not an-"

He moved the mask using his free hand to put a finger on her lips to stop her spiral rambling as he frowned at her softly.

"I don't think you're selfish, I don't think you're physically capable of being selfish, mostly because of your lack of healthy boundaries, but also because you're a good person and sharing and being kind is part of your nature. You're not a bad person for being unhappy even if you think you should be. You're more complex than just the happy May you always are with people."

He moved his finger but pointed threateningly when she opened her mouth.

"No shut up, I'm still talking. You know how I know that you're a good person even when that voice of doubt tells you you're wrong? Do you remember how we first met?"

May blinked but nodded, opening her mouth before being shushed again.

"Shut."

She smiled playfully, closing her mouth to listen.

"You came right up to me when I was lurking in the background with your drink and two brownies from the food table and you smiled at me and introduced yourself right to me, you said you were absolutely over the moon to meet and be working with me, that you'd seen my other shows upon learning we'd be coworkers and that you thought I was really talented and amazing. I know back then I just stared at you as you offered my one of the brownies you'd taken saying you got me one since I was so far away, you know why I was staring? Because you were the first person I've ever worked with to walk right up to me and introduce themselves with unfaltering kindness and warmth."

He glanced away as he spoke.

"The reason I was so far away is because a lot of the time everyone on set that I'm working with is absolutely terrified of me, which I get, it's the eyes I think. But you didn't seem afraid at all."

He looked back at her.

"You have probably brightened so many peoples' days by existing, and I know that voice probably tells you that you're different or weak or secretly evil or whatever insults and feelings you've internalized, but you bring out so much kindness to everyone no matter what."

May squeezed his hand unsure of how to even respond, mouth opening and closing as she struggled. His other hand came to hold hers squeezing her one hand with both of his.

"When you're better, I think we should look into some therapy for you because if you couldn't teleport out because a part of you believes you didn't deserve to be okay then I am really deeply concerned about that because I never want you in that situation again okay?"

May nodded softly as he squeezed her hands again softly confirming an "okay." He smiled softly at her as he gently put his forehead to her hand that he still held.

"You're a big sweetheart ya know, even if you are a horrid drink stealer" May softly spoke and he chuckled knowing she was deflecting slightly now with humor as she usually did from heavier topics but clearly speaking fondly of him.

"Hmm. Just don't go telling anybody."

"I won't." She squeezed his hands the best she could. "I think you're real great too you know, I'm glad you're in my life you do make it better." And he smiled softly to himself.

[p0rnd3aler]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE NSFW THINK PIECE/DRABBLE

I’m depraved

Rafayel is the neediest. He’s got a lot of insecurities/abandonment issues from his first love and he def has an anxious attachment style. He’s also absolutely the type of person to be codependent (Hello?? “Join me let’s drown in the ocean together”????? Like, come on). He’s constantly trying to do every little thing with you, almost like he can’t breathe unless it’s air that’s already been filtered through your lungs.

However, all big baby behavior™️ considered, he definitely knows how to woo you. I feel like since he’s Lemurian and also an artist, he only knows how to love a person in the most deeply devoted and romantic way. He’s also very careful with his heart and who he gives it to, once he decides it’s truly and solely yours that’s it. There’s no one else. But you also have to honor that with proper care, he’s very sensitive.

Anyway, I feel like he fucks in a way that’s slow, very sensual. The kind of love making where he takes over all of your senses, all you can feel is his touch, all you can smell is his sweat and cologne, all you can taste is him on your tongue, and all you can see and hear are his face and the sweet words of devotion he whimpers in your ear.

He’s also very easy to rile up.

Zayne is boring to me. Like I get the appeal he’s very hot and he’s also very stable (in a romantic sense) and healthy but I just can’t fantasize about that. Like yeah he’s a busy ass surgeon who will always make time for you no matter what and he’s super devoted and always caring for you in little ways, but also mf will make you take a water break during sex if you’re too wet bc he doesn’t want you to get dehydrated. Im done.

Honestly I think I’m biased against him bc the way he talks to MC just reminds me of this horrid man I met at a bus stop once who immediately started trying to tell me what to do/give me life advice. I get Zayne is qualified and the guy at the bus stop was not but idc if y’all want me to put effort into writing for him ur gonna have to submit it into the requests baby, moving on.

SYLUS. I feel like everybody thinks he’s just some big ol’ nasty freak but they’re WRONG. THEYRE WRONG ABOUT HIM.

Don’t get me wrong he’s definitely fucking tweaking when you first meet him, like just going apeshit off the bat with no context for us. But also? Once you get to know him? Bitch I’ll kill for that man you do not know. This mf drops everything for you.

Important arms deal he’s been trying to set up for a year or going to the arcade with you to get plushies out of a claw machine? Deal = cancelled

The fearless leader of the N109 zone who blows up anyone who perturbs him slightly. MF contributes 50% of the carbon in the atmosphere alone with the amount of shit he literally actually blows up with bombs. But you? You may break into his house and handcuff him to his bed in his sleep while trying to steal a brooch off of him. he doesn’t give a fuck. he’s in love with you. Set his house on fire! He won’t care! He’ll just buy a new one!

As rough as he is around the edges he’s completely smitten. “You should know I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.” Like girl don’t fucking play with me. Is he mentally ill? Absolutely. But he is so devoted, so careful with you. “I’m never annoyed when we do things together.” It’s literally like he’s learning how to be a human being for once and he doesn’t care about losing the coldness or sharpness he once had because you’re more than enough to replace any absence the loss of those thing may bring. He knows he’s getting soft and doesn’t care. He doesn’t try to stop it. To kill for you is nothing to him. Not even a second thought. He kills all the time. But he would never harm again if the violence ever came in between you two.

And I think that dedication, that devotion totally translates itself into how he makes love to you. He’s definitely a filthy talker, I think he says some NASTY shit during sex, just because he likes seeing you squirm and feel how your skin gets hot from his words. But I don’t think he likes hurting you. He wouldn’t do anything to harm you. He’ll spank you yeah, and he’ll tap or squish your cheeks to get your attention. But he only wants to bring you pure, carnal pleasure when it comes to sex. If you even think “that feels good” he’s like a dog with a bone. You get no rest when he’s there you only get mind-numbing pleasure. He’s a tease, he’ll poke lighthearted fun at how loud you’re being, ask you who you think can hear you two while you’re being nasty. But he knows you. He knows what you love, what gets you off, and he cares to learn all of this because of how much he loves you God I’m SICK

Xavier is filthy. That man laps up your pussy like a thirsty dog. The freakiest nastiest mf out of all of them. He won’t show any sexual prowess or interest for months I think. I’m not sure he’s even aware of his powers. Your relationship will literally be based around his chaotic sleeping “schedule” (that shit is not a schedule) and relaxing between missions together. All things considered, you guys spend almost every waking (and sleeping) hour together. Work, dates, naps, eating, it’s almost always together.

It’s not until he hears you getting hit on all night that his composure finally starts to crack.

Three months of the sweetest, purest boyfriend you could ever ask for. Your sweet silly boy, who starts silently pouting all night. It’s not until you two finally find a hotel to stay at for the night, that he finally starts loosening up.

“I’m not a young fool, you know. I don’t take what’s in front of me for granted” he quotes the guys hitting on you earlier, which he heard through your ear piece. Then he recites every time another guy hit on you while you two were on your mission. He’s a jealous jealous jealous boy. He HATES other guys vying for your attention. It just makes him want to whisk you away and bounce you on his dick so loud that every other guy can hear it. When he feels jealousy, he feels the need to mark, claim, devour you so no one else can try and steal you. He gets himself worked up. Stewing and agonizing over the thought and the memory of another guy trying to get to you so much that he can’t even think of sleeping. He gets completely taken over by the urge to have your every reaction solely based on him and what he gives you. I think he fights off these feelings for a long time, up until the protocore mission in the misty invasion memory. He just barely keeps it together until you’re rubbing all over him, pulling him closer to whisper his name in his ear, he just can’t take it. He needs to hear you say it louder. He needs everyone to hear you say his name.

He fucks you so sloppy, the kind of man who does not care what means he has to use as long as the end is what he wants. He wants you covered in marks of his making, he wants you to smell like him, he wants you to have trouble walking the next day, and he wants that asshole who tried hitting on you at work to ask you “what’s wrong? You look like you’re having trouble walking”

And as soon as the guy asks that you look over to Xavier, who has the most pleased little shit eating grin on his face.

The craziest part is that after he gets it all out of his system he’s back to being the little innocent sweet boy. But you know his secret, and he likes that you know it.

[stellocchia]

Random headcanons for Nightmare's gang:

Nightmare sometimes forgets Dust's, Horror's, and Cross' names. In those situations, he either calls them 'you' or just gives the order to Killer so he can pass it on

His forgetfulness isn't because his memory is bad, it's just because he doesn't care enough

Nightmare spends most of his time at the castle locked away in his office. The others think he's gotta be working, but he's mostly napping in there because the corruption expends a lot of his energies

Dust is a nerd. He's got excellent memory, so he's great at card games where you have to count cards or things like Memory. The others don't get to find this out for a while, but, when they do, Killer steals some games that they stash away where Nightmare won't check

Horror would prefer to be a vegetarian, but they don't have enough resources at the castle to get a choice

Horror's most prized possession is a picture of him and his brother that he luckily had on him when he got kidnapped

Horror and Dust are not the first versions of themselves that worked for Nightmare. Every version had a different nickname, (Murder, Axe, Skull, whatever you can think of) which does partially contribute to Nightmare's forgetfulness because to him they were all interchangeable

Killer would start using he/they/it pronouns if he had enough free time to figure itself out. Unfortunately, that will have to wait until after their escape

Killer's most prized possession is an onyx knife Horror, Dust, and Cross made for him a day they selected as his birthday since he couldn't remember when that was

Cross hides XChara's existence for a good while at first because he's afraid of the others' reaction to him since he looks so similar to one of the beings that tormented them. The introduction ends up still with just as much yelling as he feared, but at least no weapons were summoned

Cross is the strongest among the henchmen and has the best technique. But because he's so rigidly set on fighting like he was taught, he often ends up losing to the other three who have never fought fair a day in their lives

As Nightmare perceives affection and comfort as weaknesses, Cross, Killer, Horror, and Dust aren't really allowed to cuddle or hug in the castle. So they tend to get whatever affection they can sneak in with each other while on missions

Cross is actually the best cook among them. He knows how to make filling rations that don't taste exceedingly bland

Conversely, Killer is the worst cook, because it's really hard to keep his goop from dripping into the food while cooking. And it tastes absolutely horrid

Dust's most prized possession, after his scarf, it's a small collection of funnily shaped rocks that Killer and Horror keep picking up in various AUs and gifting to him

Cross' most prized possession, after the heart pendant, it's an apron that the others embroidered for the day he chose as his birthday (since he also couldn't remember when that was) that says: 'This chef is a real grate guy!"

[heartandfangs]

NOT IF IT'S YOU— PART ONE.

GENRE University AU, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Angst, Smut, Fluff 

PAIRING Nerd!Heeseung x f!Reader

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Jealousy, Cursing, Making out, Arguing, Anxiety, Depression, Flirting, Mentions of food, Brief violence, Brief mention of alcohol, Brief mention of somnophilia, Crying (all sorts), Degradation, Breast worship, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Coming untouched, Heavy spit play, Light BDSM, Edging, Spanking, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Dry humping, Praise kink, First-time blow job, Ball sucking, Fingering, Cum eating, Ear licking, Biting, Public Sex, Light bondage, Dom!Heeseung, Brattysub!FemMC, Sub!Heeseung, Softdom!FemMC, Other OC’s

SUMMARY Befriending a nerd who wants nothing to do with you in a coding class you want absolutely nothing to do with becomes the challenge of the semester— and you’re determined to ace that shit no matter what.  WORD COUNT 29k (Fic Total)

AUTHOR’S NOTE Long time no see— it’s P, the romantic at heart! This one’s for the people who play otome games, whose favorite spot on campus is the library, and who are afraid to be loved but want to love as hard as they possibly can.

Enjoy my contribution to the tropey Uni AU genre! Also wtf thank you for 1k followers (If you’re a minor please unfollow me. Idc if that puts me way back under. If you’re not, thank you, and stay tuned bc I will do something to celebrate… once I get through 6 months worth of notifications rip)

See end of part two for author’s note cont.

Masterlist, Part Two

© 2022, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere.

“Have you ever gotten the random urge to give someone a blow job?”

You lifted your head from your notes, eyes wide and scrutinizing. Why did your friend have to be so damn loud in the library, of all places?

A scoff barely escaped your mouth before you dived back into your textbook, “There’s not a person with a dick on this university campus that deserves one from me. Why? Have you?”

“All the time, but especially when I’m on my period,” Rin confessed, “Hormones.”

“Oh, I bet.”

I don’t know how Rin finds the time to think about these things… 

Your friend pouted while drumming her pencil against the communal library table as if she could hear your judgemental thoughts. There were more important things for you to worry about, clearly. 

You sighed as you began to pack up your backpack to catch your most dreaded class of the semester, coding. 

It was an elective you immediately regretted taking, but you swore to yourself to see it through to expand your skill set. Unfortunately, it was just a week into the semester, and the horrid feeling that you would fail a class for the first time was way too real.

Rin continued to spew nonsense, “Maybe I should check this dating app—”

You slung your backpack over your shoulder and ruffled Rin’s hair on your way to the elevators, “You are a slut, aren’t you?”

“Please stop acting like you’re not,” Rin rolled her eyes and raised her voice just enough to carry over the bookshelves and be heard by unsuspecting students, “There’s only so many otome games one can play!”

“Shhh!” You hissed at her to shut up, eyes shooting daggers at the snickering girl.

She must’ve been spying on you every time you pulled out your phone to take a break. What did she have against your little games? After your first relationship went up in flames, they were a pretty decent replacement for dating and soon became an addictive hobby. 

They were great time-killers, required minimum commitments, and had a plethora of eye candy to choose from. Even if you did screw up, you just needed to wait a few days to replenish your lives. Plus, they all fit in your pocket…

And they could never break your heart like your ex had. 

‘I’m gonna kill you’, You mouthed at her over your shoulder while slamming your fist against the elevator button. 

Rin tapped her lips with her middle finger and sent you a flying kiss. Deep down, she hoped you’d come across a sweet boy for your own good.

While you stared at the colored lines of code on the monitor in front of you, determined to at least figure out how to embed one damn photo onto your website for tomorrow’s critique, your silent tablemate on your left tapped away at his keyboard with ease.

Everything about the guy screamed overachiever; it was 45 minutes after class had ended, and he was still working away on his project after everyone else had left.

Meanwhile, you were pretending to know what you were doing by typing in some random characters and then immediately deleting them. Being the anxiety-ridden person you were, you managed to work up a nervous sweat, your palms going numb.

Fuck, this is embarrassing. I should just leave and figure it out once I get home.

The student next to you didn’t seem to have any issues, but then again, the course you enrolled in was actually a combined class with different levels, and clearly, this wasn’t his first course in the subject. It was definitely an odd curriculum; you weren’t sure why you hadn’t read the class description more thoroughly. 

“Hi! Mind if I sit here?” You asked the student earlier upon seeing the closest open seat available.

The boy didn’t say hello, he merely spared you a glance, adjusted his glasses, then resumed the staring contest with his computer screen.

“Okay…” You said with a touch of annoyance in your tone. His eyes barely shifted to your face in response, and then he was back to typing.

His standoffish attitude from the moment you walked into the class and took the closest open seat next to him irked you more than it should’ve. 

It wasn’t until you sat down next to him that you were thrown off by how big the guy actually was, but even more so, the faint scent of sweet lavender wafting off of him. You weren't sure whether it was cologne or detergent, just that it somewhat reminded you of your favorite macaron flavor.

How unexpected. Well, that ruins it, you thought. 

Even if the guy smelled pretty damn nice, he was snooty in your book. If he didn’t have such an aloof attitude about him, you might’ve befriended him just to reach out for notes in the class in case you got sick. 

Rin often called you a prideful bitch, and you’d brush off her accusations, but deep down, you knew her words had some weight to them. Prideful was a fair adjective; your strong desire to handle your own business kept others at bay, which was great for someone like you who liked to be left to your own devices.

Though pride paired with stubbornness wasn’t necessarily the most beneficial combination when finding oneself in a pinch…

Nearly two hours of the class begrudgingly swept by, and you were still stuck on the initial steps, your brain utterly confused by the jumble of lines and coding rules you had to adhere to. It was a huge struggle to keep up with the pace the professor taught, let alone ensure the material stuck in your brain. 

It also didn’t help that the boy next to you had the audacity to pull up a window of manga on the side to read while you were struggling your ass off.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him.

Now, the class was well over, and you still managed to convince yourself to stay even though the shit your professor covered in lecture went in through one ear and out the other. 

After such a long day of stacked classes, your facade slipped, and you dropped your head into your hands. If you were honest, some of your pride slipped along with it. Since you were so busy, the last meal you had eaten was yesterday’s dinner, and you were starving. There were tons of other class assignments you hadn’t even touched yet. 

You bit your lip and watched the boy out of the corner of your eye, debating for a solid minute if you should ask for help. At this point, you were just wasting precious time that could be spent running to the nearest McDonald's for a burger.

In the name of efficiency, you decided to reach out for help from the person you least wanted to ask— but just this once.

“Hey. Could you show me how to add an image to my site? I can’t figure it out even though I tried to follow the directions….”

First, you saw the boy’s brown eyes widen ever so slightly before he looked over you in consideration. 

If he says no, I guess I’ll go fuck myself. 

“Sure.” 

Oh.

Feeling your heart flood with relief, you replied gratefully, “Thank you.”

You were taken aback when you watched him slide off his chair and drop to his knees by your side. He leaned over the edge of the table to take control of your mouse and keyboard, his attention fixed on the debauched code on your screen.

Really, you two could’ve just switched seats, but you decided to let him do his thing while you tucked your hands under your thighs and watched. Your brain was beyond trying to make sense of what he was inputting into your code.

Funnily enough, the silence between you two was even more awkward than it had been before you spoke to each other. Still, you refrained from distracting him, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. 

After a minute, you decided to check him out instead.

Your eyes shifted between the computer screen and his calm, concentrated features since you hadn’t really gotten a good look at him before.

His black, wispy bangs hung just over his dark eyes, and his circular, silver-rimmed glasses sort of amplified their roundness. They held a touch of naïveté in them– but when you looked at him from the side, they were sharpened due to focus.

Admittedly, he had the softest-looking set of lips, the kind that anyone would easily be jealous of. The slope of his nose was just as cute, to your annoyance.

Your eyes trailed downwards to the pronounced curve of his throat, but just for a moment before returning your attention to the screen of code.

He was attractive in an unexpected sort of way.

It actually was kind of sweet that he’d be willing to kneel on the questionable floor of the computer lab to help you out. You wondered if he was trying to make up for ignoring you at the beginning of class.

“Is this the photo you want to add?” He hovered the mouse over the recent file in your downloads folder.

“Yeah.”

You must’ve really fucked up your code because the slowest five minutes passed before he clicked save on your program, and most of it you spent trying to act like you hadn’t been staring at him every other second.

The boy finally stood up with the slightest groan, and to your dismay, the sound went straight between your thighs.

Woah there.

“Try refreshing that,” He instructed while rubbing at his kneecaps through his jeans.

With the click of a mouse, you refreshed the program to see a jpg of your favorite Shrek meme pop up on your otherwise bare-bones-looking website.

“Wow— it actually works. Thank you,” You were unable to help yourself from beaming up at him, rather impressed at his efficiency.

He merely nodded, averting his eyes.

Was he older than you or younger? Did he work on the weekends? Have a significant other? A myriad of ridiculous questions bombarded your mind.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

That was a good, normal place to start.

“Heeseung,” he stretched his arms over his head and winced at the slightest crick of his shoulder. All your eyes could focus on were the sharp lines of his waist peeking out under the edge of his sweatshirt. 

You introduced yourself as casually as you could, “My name’s ___. This really isn’t my thing, so thank you.”

“Anytime,” He said simply, rubbing at the back of his neck.

In a flash of a second, the shameless part of your mind dared to imagine how that shy expression of his might twist into one of pleasure— how his breathy sighs would fill your ears while he was hunched over, bracing himself on the table. At the same time, you pictured yourself between his long legs, mouthing kisses over his bulge, watching him twitch above you all the while.

‘Who’s the slut now?’ You could already hear Rin’s ridiculous comments; she must’ve poisoned your brain with the thought. 

Feeling yourself starting to go slightly demented from the turn of events, you excused yourself and threw your supplies into your backpack to leave as quickly as you could, entirely oblivious to how Heeseung stared after you on your way out.

Heeseung meant it when he said, ‘anytime.’

From that day on, there wasn’t an instance where he didn’t hesitate to help when you asked him for it. Each day, you grew less and less hesitant to ask him for assistance which was… interesting.

What was even more unbelievable was that he never asked for anything in return, and you were so grateful, so smitten by him. The assignments you received were absolutely distressing, yet Heeseung didn’t appear to resent your requests and was always more than willing to lend you a hand. Based on your life experience, that was far from normal. 

There was a question that you just had to ask a few weeks into the semester when he was helping you work on one of your projects for the nth time.

“Honestly, do you like doing this?” 

Heeseung leaned back in his chair and appeared contemplative while stretching his wrists. “No. Coding is a tedious process, but if you’re referring to helping you,” He looked at you with an earnest gleam in his eyes and gave you a small smile, “Yes, I really like helping you.”

It was the first time you felt your heart skip in a while.

Right then and there, you could’ve dropped to your knees and let him use your mouth however he pleased. Fuck everyone else in the class; you would’ve done it.

On a serious note, it was unfortunate that you had nothing to offer him of value in the class.

Your creative mind worked so differently, and you two didn’t share any other classes you could help him with. So you often tried to make up for it by conversing and attempting to get to know him.

Emphasis on attempt.

The downside to your interactions was that he rarely engaged with you on the occasion, even when you tried to initiate a casual conversation with him.

“What are you always reading during class?” You glanced over at his screen curiously one day.

Heeseung was always quick to minimize the extra window when you caught him. “Nothing much, just manga. Need something?”

“What? I— No, I was just wondering,” You’d quirk a brow at him, and he’d return to his task.

Every time you came into class and took the same seat next to him, you’d greet him, and he’d greet you in return but left it at that. After assisting you with an issue, he’d always quietly turn back to his computer and pick up where he left off. Maybe you’d be able to get in a question or two, but he hardly talked up a storm.

Even when you probed him about his life, Heeseung merely gave short replies or shook off your questions. He was so difficult to get to know and apparently didn’t care to hold a conversation with you outside of coding. Still, you were insistent because you were a relatively private individual yourself. Really, you tried to understand where he was coming from.

“I’m so glad I don’t have classes after this,” a yawn escaped your lips as you covered your mouth with your hand.

Heeseung’s typing never ceased, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You stared at his profile, waiting to see if he’d continue the conversation. After a second too long of waiting, you asked, “Do you have any night classes?”

“I don’t. I have work.”

You perked up in your seat. “Oh? Where at?”

“I’m actually about to change jobs, so it really doesn’t matter,” Heeseung responded curtly. 

You sank back into your chair. “Oh. Sorry.”

He turned to look at you as if to say something, an apologetic expression nearly taking hold of his features, but he seemingly held himself back and returned to his work. 

Still, within the coming weeks, you grew curious about his family as well. One day your curiosity was at its peak, and you rattled off questions about any possible siblings he might have. That was less intrusive than asking about a significant other, right?

“So, are you an only child, or do you have any siblings?” You probed during a particularly long day and difficult class session. When one’s brain was already fried, it didn’t hurt to completely give up on figuring something out, especially if you had Heeseung. 

Just for today, you promised yourself as Heeseung was clicking away at your keyboard, helping you out as usual.

“... I have a brother,” Heeseung hesitated, “Stepbrother, actually. He’s a student as well.”

“No way? Same major as you?”

“No…” and he left it at that, making you wonder if they weren’t on the greatest terms... Or if he just didn’t care to share more of his life with you.

Nonetheless, your attempts to converse with him day after day eventually took a toll on you. Clearly, you were bothering him with the questions, but it’s not like you just chose anyone to put effort into getting to know. Why couldn’t he understand that? Most people would’ve loved getting asked about their life and would easily drone on and on about themselves. 

Rin would cackle at you now if she only knew of your circumstances. As if you would ever tell her with the shit way things were going. 

God, I should just stick to my little otome game apps with automated responses.

After several weeks of your relationship with him going nowhere, your savior became the source of your frustration.

Guys never helped you out without an ulterior motive or expecting something in return, so it was almost inconceivable to think someone like Heeseung existed. His caring personality subverted your initial expectations of him, and you knew his selfless actions came from a sincere place, but still…

This had grown beyond needing his help in class. All you wanted to do was get to know Heeseung because you had taken a genuine interest in him.

Was that asking for a lot?

The day you walked into class and plopped into your seat without saying hello to him, Heeseung knew something was up. The boy had gotten much too used to your greetings every day.

Barely able to contain your irritation with him, you stared straight ahead at your screen and got to work, despite feeling his eyes on you. 

Beside you, Heeseung was desperately trying to read your stoic expression. He’d glance at you meekly, and look back at his computer for a few seconds, only to peer over at you again. 

This cycle went on for the next few minutes until you heard him greet you first, for once.

“Hey, ___–”

“Hey,” You barely spared him a look and settled back into your workflow just as swiftly.

Stumped by your odd behavior, Heeseung drew his hands into his lap and fell quiet once more.

Just when you thought he’d leave you be, Heeseung pulled up to your side in his rolling chair, that signature lavender scent of his invading your senses. His knee bumped into yours but stayed there.

“Do you need my help with anything?”

“No, thank you,” you replied coldly.

You saw him wilt out of the corner of your eye, and something vengeful in you felt good about making him feel the way you’ve felt for the past months. The other part of you just felt plain guilty.

Feeling suffocated, you abruptly left the class to get some fresh air. You were hoping the open-air foyer filled with wooden benches would grant you a moment of reprieve.

Choosing the farthest bench from the entrance, you sat down and propped up your legs, pulling your knees close to your chin. The evening breeze swept across your flushed cheeks, and you were mortified to realize tears were threatening to spill down them.

It was childish of you to reject Heeseung’s attention once you finally got it, but… you couldn’t help it. You knew the attention wasn’t due to any sort of genuine feelings toward you; it was merely your petty behavior that provoked him.

Was this how it felt to be rejected while trying so hard to befriend someone? Is this how people felt when you made them jump through a hundred hoops to get to know you? 

You thought back to when you took the chance to let someone in for the first and last time. Had you just been too much? Or maybe not worth the trouble?

If that were true… maybe that was the reason your first love had cheated on you. 

Old feelings bubbled up in your chest, and suddenly everything really felt like shit. 

To make things worse, you were sulking. Even though Heeseung could tell something was up and was trying to diagnose the situation, he still infuriated you. If anyone had to deal with an aloof individual for as long as you did, you were sure they’d go crazy too.

Especially if they were as cute as Heeseung was.

Fuck. 

There was no way you were about to cry in public over a boy, the most angelic, frustrating boy you’ve ever met. 

Not everybody reciprocated people’s feelings equally, and it was simply life to deal with it. Still…

Once you buried your face into your arms, you released your pent-up emotions with a shaky breath, letting the hot tears fall and soak into your jeans. You decided to stay there for a while, long enough until you knew everyone in class would be gone, so you could rest assured no one would see your pathetic tear-stained face.

It was a good half hour after class ended before you made your way back to collect your belongings and catch the bus to head home. Somehow, you cried for the majority of it as quietly as you could.

It actually helped a bit, as it had back then. 

When you pulled open the door, you froze like a deer in headlights.

Heeseung stared up at you with wide eyes from where he was sitting; he was the only one left in the class, which you hadn’t counted on.

He wasn’t waiting for you, was he?

“Um…” You trailed off and slowly turned to leave again, but he was already out of his seat, making his way toward you.

Jesus—

You were hardly ever standing next to each other, so facing him head-on at his tall stature was intimidating, even with his cardigan and those nerdy glasses of his. Perhaps it also had to do with the unfamiliar look in his eyes and the intense concern in them.

“Are you okay?” He reached out to touch your arm, but you stepped back and caught him by the shoulders, holding him back at arm's length.

Unable to look at him directly, you stared down at your shoes next to his, eyes stinging again as if you didn’t just spend half an hour crying.

Just seeing his face and hearing his voice brought on a flood of confusing emotions.

“Yeah? I-I’m fine,” You insisted.

Even though Heeseung couldn’t see your face, he saw your tears fall onto your sneakers and felt your grip curl into his shoulders.

“___, if it’s something I said or did…” Heeseung’s voice went soft, and you nearly jumped when you felt his hands slide over yours, his thumbs stroking comfortingly over your skin, “You can tell me.”

His mere touch slowly brought your anxiety down, one stroke of his thumb after the other— at the same time, it sent shivers along your skin. 

It’s what you didn’t say or do.

Fear threatened to cut your voice off completely. You took several deep breaths, trying to sort out your thoughts so that you could properly convey how you were feeling. 

Here was your chance to be honest with him from the get-go. It was scary, but you needed to try.

“I consider you as someone who I’m really grateful for, Heeseung. Especially after how much of your time you’ve given me this semester,” You sighed, glancing up at him even though your vision was blurry, “You’re a really talented guy. It’s just impossible to get to know you because you like to keep to yourself. I think I understand why you do. Even I don’t like letting other people in all the time...”

Something seemed to click in his mind at your words; you saw his lips part ever so slightly in realization, his eyes widening a fraction.

“... But it’s still hard to be on the receiving end of that. However, if that’s where you want me,” You pulled your hands out of his, letting them drop to your side, “Then there’s not much I can do about that.”

Quietly, you brushed past him and packed your backpack in a hurry to leave.

Heeseung fell silent behind you, and when you left him, you kept your eyes trained on the floor.

The next day, you remained in a foul mood as you chose to sit on the opposite side of your table to avoid the tension of being next to Heeseung for two hours straight. As you expected, the student who usually sat there confronted you about it.

“Hey, this is my seat. I’ve been sitting here all semester.”

You didn’t care to grant her your full attention and continued typing, “I don’t see your name on it.”

It was definitely a shitty thing to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a damn at that moment. 

She was stunned into silence and subsequently stomped over to the next row to take her seat next to Heeseung. There was no doubt that he overheard your confrontation. 

Class sped by while you were laser-focused on completing everything you needed to get done for that period— without Heeseung’s help. At least one good thing came out of taking notes and watching Heeseung work these past several weeks; your evolving skill set. You were far from excellent, but you had gotten at least a bit better with the basics. 

This time, you didn’t plan on sticking around after class.

It seemed like Heeseung was prepared for you not to because the moment you stood up and bolted to the door, he was already out of his seat, hot on your trail.

Heeseung called out your name.

You ignored him, even as he easily caught up with your pace. His silence yesterday already confirmed all you needed to know about how he felt about you. 

He caught your elbow, and you stopped to look him dead in the eye. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go.”

Heeseung immediately released you, “Sorry, I just wanted to talk—“

A menacing force slammed into your back, propelling you straight into Heeseung’s chest. Someone halfway down the hall called out a sarcastic apology, but it barely registered— you were startled by how Heeseung steadied you against his hard body.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You scowled, already shaking his hands off despite your body aching at the feeling of him so near, “What did you want now?”

Heeseung‘s eyes wavered, but he managed to hold your scrutinizing gaze. 

“Do you want to grab dinner?”

He really felt the pressure of an impending ‘no’ when all you did was stare at him.

You frowned, “What?”

Heeseung gulped but continued, “You don’t have any other classes for the day, right? There’s a really good Thai place just on the edge of campus, and their Pad Thai is the best— at least within a 20-mile radius.”

Was he doing this all of a sudden because he pitied you?

“You don’t need to do this.”

Heeseung looked like he was on the verge of panicking, but just as quickly, a sense of determination overcame him. 

He took a step forward, “But what if I want to?”

You looked off to the side, “I’m confused. Why all of a sudden?”

“I know it’s like I’m doing this out of the blue,” He sounded in a rush due to nerves, so he slowed down his speech, “I’m not good with words, and it’s true that I’m easily distracted by my classes. But I do care about you, ___.”

Your chest throbbed as he peered down at you from under his lashes with furrowed brows, “I know I’m usually pretty distant, and I can’t make up for everything in a night, but I really would like to talk with you over dinner… only if you want to join me.”

Heeseung’s expression appeared so hopeful, and his gaze held an amount of tenderness that had you shifting your weight under the unusual attention you were receiving. 

What was that look he was giving you?

He felt you brush by him, and he hung his head. 

Heeseung felt his stomach twist with guilt, he knew you wouldn’t give him a chance after how he’d been treating you—

“… Fine.”

Heeseung straightened up with wide eyes and turned to face you as you set off in the completely wrong direction. 

“It’s this way,” He eagerly called after you.

You came to a quick halt, then turned back around, crossing your arms, “Lead the way then.”

He smiled to himself when he heard the unmistakable sound of your stomach grumbling ever so faintly.

 

Walking across campus with Heeseung was convenient because the majority of people made plenty of room for the two of you, all thanks to the giant by your side. Usually, they’d have no issue bumping shoulders with you or overlooking you. 

Must be nice to be able to part seas of people, you thought enviously. 

Heeseung remained quiet for the majority of the walk except for mentioning a direction here and there. All the while, you were trying to anticipate what Heeseung might have to say to you once you got to the restaurant. 

The sky grew to be a deep orange by the time you entered the quaint Thai restaurant at the front of the campus. A simple aqua blue neon sign that read 01 Thai shone across asphalt above an old, cream colored building. While you considered their signature menu options, you turned Heeseung’s words over in your head.

“I do care about you, ___.”

Do you really?

“And what would you like to order?” The cashier asked you.

“Oh. I guess I’ll try the Pad Thai.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water, please,” You absentmindedly dug in your pocket to hand over your card, but Heeseung was already handing over his. 

Your brows drew together as you quietly glanced up at him, not wanting to make a scene.

He gave you a nervous smile, “My treat.”

You looked over your shoulder for seating, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

“No need,” He shook his head, guiding you to a corner table. 

“I will.”

Even from across the small wooden table, Heeseung sensed your lingering discomfort, understandably. He looked like he wanted to say something, but so did you, so he waited.

After a contemplative moment, you met his eyes and folded your hands on the table. “Heeseung, don’t tell me you're doing all this just because you feel bad.”

“No— I mean, in a way, yes. I know how I can be, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with that. I never meant to hurt you the way I did.”

I really did emotionally throw up on him yesterday, and his silence didn’t make it any better. Even now, I still feel high-strung about the whole ordeal, but he seems sorry about it…

“Listen, I get that you feel guilty, but if you really do just want to be friends, there’s no need for anything crazy. Just talking would be nice to start.”

“Right...” He stared right at you. 

Your brows knit together once more at the uncertainty in his voice.

“Right,” Heeseung repeated, almost to himself, “That’s doable. Although guilt plays a significant part in driving me to do what I’m doing… Please know it’s not my only motivator.”

Heeseung startled you when he reached out to take one of your hands in his. You still looked utterly confused, so he exhaled softly before squeezing your hand and running the pad of his thumb along your knuckles, just like he did back in class. 

Goosebumps immediately broke out on your skin from the heat of his touch.

Oh.

Behind his glasses, his eyes were intent; you had his full attention. “I’ve been really out of touch with people these days, and I regret it. However, I had some personal things I was working through. It’s not an excuse, but I do care about you, ___. I hope you can eventually find a way to forgive me.”

At his sudden admittance, your heart rate began to pick up. Immediately you hated how vulnerable his words made you feel, but that also meant that they were real. His forwardness rendered you genuinely speechless; even your mind drew a blank. 

It seemed like he could sense it.

“I-I see,” You stared at your daintier hand in his own, then looked back up at Heeseung’s keen gaze. 

His brows drew together, and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly, “Am I making you nervous?” He sounded like he was making a discovery. 

Heat immediately flooded your face once more, and you took your hand back out of embarrassment. 

He gnawed on his lip, his eyelids lowering a fraction, “Sorry.”

A waitress pulled up to your table with a tray of steaming bowls, and Heeseung thanked the waitress as she left while you reached for a pair of chopsticks.

“What kind of question is that?” You mumbled while you picked at your noodles. Your brain was failing to make sense of Heeseung’s feelings towards you.

He didn’t let up.

“You make me really nervous, ___,” Heeseung dared to reveal in a low voice. 

As he expected, his declaration drew your attention back to him. Your eyes narrowed at Heeseung, who wore a small yet knowing smile, clearly trying to get a rise out of you. 

Is this really the same guy who chased me down to grab dinner with him?

Little did you know the boy sitting across from you was attuned to your every movement— from the quickened pace of your breath to the twitch of your leg when his knee brushed against yours underneath the table.

Naturally, he would be after spending so much time at your side for the past couple of months, taking note of your little habits and mannerisms. 

He also knew you’d be skeptical for a while after this, that it would take time to prove his sincerity once more. Heeseung was willing to overcome that by any means.

When Heeseung realized he had stunned you into silence, he finally looked down at his own plate. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

“Agreed,” You were grateful for the change of subject because you just barely survived his sudden undivided attention. Also, you were beyond famished.

All the while, your mouth was watering at the sight of the food, so you took a bite of the Pad Thai and savored the flavorful spices on your tongue. It was pretty damn good, Heeseung had taste. One bite of noodles, and suddenly, you felt as though you were gaining back your senses. 

He’s kind of flirty, isn’t he?

After several more bites and a nice gulp of cold water, you felt ready to hold a proper conversation.

“Don’t bullshit me anymore, Heeseung,” You commented, propping your chin up on your palm.

He chuckled softly, and you squinted his way.

“I’ll try my best, ___.”

Over dinner, Heeseung allowed you to delve into his mind, which was certainly a treat. 

Not without difficulty, of course. 

His answers remained vague unless you pressed further; it was like pulling teeth, but you could tell he was trying. With enough persistence, he divulged you.

“Do you just really like to keep a low profile?” You asked, referencing his deflection of your attempts at conversing with him during class, “I mean, I figured you just found me annoying.”

Heeseung slowly began, “I wasn’t in the best headspace this semester. Things at my old job weren’t going well at all, and those issues combined with the stress of my classes resulted in me feeling very closed off from my surroundings.”

You scratched your cheek. “I see. How does that usually affect you?”

“I tend to isolate myself under pressure, and it becomes difficult for me to connect with… well, those around me,” Heeseung explained, running his fingers back and forth over the grain of the tabletop. 

“Hm, that’s tough. Honestly, you always seem like you have your shit together.”

Heeseung shook his head, “It’s… a facade of sorts.”

“Well, a lot of people have one,” Your eyes wandered down to your plate, it had been scraped clean for a while. 

The shop was empty save for you two, it must’ve been growing closer to closing time, what with the moonlight shining through the windows. 

“Yeah? What’s yours?”

Ah, now it’s his turn to take a shot at me.

Being vulnerable was difficult, especially with all of Heeseung’s attention on you. Silence fell over you two, but he waited, even when it felt like you weren’t going to speak. 

“Probably enjoying being alone. Not that I don’t, but it depends on how I’m feeling that day. I see independence and loneliness as two sides of the same coin.”

It was the truth, to an extent. You enjoyed the benefits of being independent, but there was a fine line between that and being lonely. 

“It’s a normal human thing to go through,” You shrugged.

It’s how I’ve always been, and it usually keeps me safe. But I can’t believe I just admitted that to another person, let alone Heeseung. Though that’s the whole point of this conversation, isn’t it?

“Um, anyways…“

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel lonely.”

Your eyes flitted to Heeseung’s expression; he seemed cautious yet sincere.

“Don’t be. It’s not your responsibility to make me feel otherwise.”

It was a difficult realization to come to, and as such, you gave a detached response. In due time you’d have to see if he meant everything that he said.

With an inward sigh, you felt disappointment replace the anger that had been slowly filtering out of your system for the past hour. Heeseung was willing to try to be friends, which was more than you could’ve asked for, so deep down, you fought your desire for him. You were being given the chance to take things day by day and come to terms with the reality of your situation. 

“Besides, being lonely is a good skill to have. It’s weird to say out loud, but I really think it is,” You stated, glancing out the window into the dimly lit streets, “It’s useful and easier than most people think.”

When Heeseung said nothing in response, you turned to look at him once more, wanting to hear his voice. 

Something from him, anything.

Instead, you met those dark brown eyes behind his glasses; they contained a mix of something you couldn’t place and a tinge of sadness, but most surprisingly– knowing.

You fidgeted with the hairband on your wrist. “What? What’s wrong?”

Heeseung spoke, “Nothing… What do you mean?” 

His question seemed hollow as if he feigned confusion; his eyes told you everything yet nothing, all at once– like he could see right through you. 

You shook your head, voice coming out as a whisper, “I don’t know… You’re making me nervous again.”

“Sorry,” Heeseung blinked and shifted his eyes elsewhere, and suddenly you felt like you could breathe, but just barely. 

He distractedly removed his glasses to pinch at his nose bridge, and that’s when your breath caught in your chest. 

A slight smile tugged at your lips, “Hey, you look different without your glasses.” You were apt to change the subject.

“Oh, really?” Heeseung moved to adjust them back in place quickly.

“Wait,” you leaned over the table and placed your hand on his to stop him, wanting a better look, “You look really handsome. Not that you don’t with them on, but….”

Heeseung noted how intrigued you looked, the fascination brightening your features. It was certainly a contrast to the way you regarded him just a moment before. “I’ve worn glasses my whole life. I don’t look odd without them?”

“No, but I think you’re cute either way—“ You curiously brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his brows rose in surprise. 

Upon realizing what you had done, you promptly sat back in your seat and stuffed your hands in your pockets. 

“I— You just look different,” You tried to cover up your embarrassment with a smile. 

You hadn’t intended on getting touchy, but you just couldn't help it. Then again, he comfortably initiated way more physical contact with you today than he had all semester. 

Heeseung quietly glanced off to the side, and then his eyes were back on you without a moment’s notice, observing.

Ah, there’s that churning sensation in my stomach again.

Even though you could see his eyes clear as day, you couldn’t read him as easily this time.  

“Thanks,” His eyes flitted away as he fixed his glasses back in place.  

Uh-oh. Did I mess up? Did I turn him off by touching his hair? Or with my comments on his appearance?

“We better go, I think they’re closing,” You rubbed your cheek while throwing your backpack over your shoulder, “Thank you for dinner.”

“Sure. Thanks for hearing me out… and for sharing,” Heeseung led you to the door and held it open for you.

His voice sounded odd, almost tight. 

“Yeah...”

It had been a rollercoaster of a day so far; you weren’t sure what kind of note you were going to end it on. 

The brisk night air hit your skin and made you shudder. You turned towards the bus stop across the street, anticipating an arrival soon, “I’m headed over here. I guess I’ll see you in class?” 

When you glanced back over your shoulder, Heeseung was looking after you in such a way that caused you to freeze. His demeanor had shifted from the start of dinner to now like there was a barely tamed intensity about him. He felt unpredictable— he even seemed on edge. 

What was going on? Maybe you really stepped on his toes earlier with your comment about his glasses. It certainly wasn’t your intention; you meant it as a compliment. 

He could’ve been self-conscious about it, you idiot!

Heeseung gave you a curt nod, “Get home safely, okay?” 

You frowned. 

“Okay…” You paused before giving him a quick hug. 

Next to free food and a bit of communication, hugs diffused most escalating situations, right?

But even to you, it felt like a blur; you barely gave him enough time to return it, and then you were slipping out of his grasp just as quickly as you had drawn close. 

“Bye,” You whispered. 

Taken aback, Heeseung dropped his arms to his sides as he watched you jog across the street to board the bus that arrived a moment before and nearly took off without you. 

He inhaled deeply.

Now, his whole body ached. 

Oh, he hated you even more for that.

The cold suddenly seeped into his skin. It hadn’t affected him until you left his side. 

Your bus took off just as his phone faintly vibrated in his pocket. He lost count of how many times it had gone off during his dinner with you, but he hardly paid it any attention. He ignored it for the past two months but couldn’t bring himself to block the number. 

Finally, he decided to answer it. 

“Heeseung! Do you know how many times I’ve called you today? And the day before? Over the past eight fucking weeks? We were supposed to meet–”

“I was at dinner—” Heeseung immediately kicked himself for even sparing an excuse. There was no need to anymore. “Please stop calling me.”

His thumb hovered over the button to hang up and block her number; he should’ve done it earlier. 

“Don’t do this to me, love.”

Anger slithered up his veins, “How else do you expect me to act after all that you’ve done?”

“What you saw wasn’t what it looked like—“

Beep—

That’s what she’d said in the hundreds of voicemails she left, or so he guessed. Listening to one was sufficient. 

From that day on, Heeseung dialed back on the forwardness he displayed in terms of physical contact with you, and you couldn’t figure out why for the life of you. However, your conversations in class were plentiful and on friendlier terms, save for the interesting underlying tension that persisted through his frequent teasing comments and lasting stares. 

That’s not to say there was a complete absence of flirtatious touching, he simply wasn’t as outright with it. But you noted each subtle instance with amusement whether it was a tap on the shoulder, a bump to the knee or an accidental brush of hands when he’d reach for your mouse. 

He seemed somewhat back to normal compared to how you left him that one night, but something definitely changed between you two. 

On the other hand, you soon discovered the breadth of his sense of humor. The off-handed, dry comments he’d whisper about some odd gesture or explanation the professor would make had you snorting in your seat— turns out you weren’t the only one who occasionally got annoyed with the way your professor taught. 

Even so, together, you both managed.

Thai food after class became a routine for you both, a couple of times a week. Ever since Heeseung made an effort to open up, sometimes you’d talk up until the last bus was available for you to catch if he didn’t have work, and other times, you’d work on assignments together.

For every question you asked him, it tickled you that he had one for you of equal measure. These brief moments with Heeseung stood out from your otherwise mundane campus life. Unfortunately, things didn’t always go according to plan.  

One evening, a meeting with your advisor concerning your schedule for next semester ran over time significantly and you were 30 minutes late to your dinner at 01 Thai with Heeseung. 

The frigid air lashed across your face the moment you stepped outside the administration building causing you to wince. It was an evening filled with storm clouds, and the sun had long set; it was starting to get darker earlier in the day. You reached into your pocket to update Heeseung on your whereabouts but let out a frustrated grunt when you realized your phone had died on you. 

Fuck. 

The restaurant was on the complete other side of campus so you decided to cut through a back way that was a bit more obscure but quicker than usual. The first droplets of rain hit your skin before it turned into an outright downpour by the time you were half way across campus. 

Just my luck. 

There weren’t a whole lot of shaded areas along the buildings in the back route you took so you braced yourself through the chill until the droplets began to feel like ice pellets. It was too much so you chose to take shelter when you came upon the first shaded area that came into view near the back exit of a building. 

Something on the floor caught your eye as you quickly approached. A dog with soaked fur was curled up on its stomach and appeared to be breathing irregularly. On instinct, you kneeled down to run your hand over its fur, and it let out a thin whine. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Where’s your owner?”

You felt along its furry chin for a tag and found purchase in a sleek, black collar. However, there was no tag with an owner's contact to be found.

Maybe it’s a high-tech tracking collar? 

With your back against the wall, you slid down to sit for a moment, enduring the mist that the wind blew against you both, cradling the dog close. “I don’t think the rain will let up any time soon… You don’t wanna come with? You just wanna stay here and wait for your owner, huh?”

The dog merely blinked up at you. 

“Alright, then you need this more than I do. Hopefully they’re just around the corner…”

You shrugged off your jacket and used it to dry off the pup a bit before swaddling it in the fabric. After you finished and went to scratch its chin, it licked your palm non-stop.

“You’re welcome,” You stood up with a giggle and readjusted your backpack. Although it was storming, if you let Heeseung wait any longer it would give him the wrong idea. 

You received stares from other students the moment you stepped through the restaurant doors since the single layer of your T-shirt was soaked through. Immediately you crossed your arms over your chest but made a beeline towards Heeseung who sat in the corner. 

He looked you over with concern. 

You couldn’t help but stutter from the cold, “S-sorry. My meeting ran late with my advisor and my phone died—“

“It’s okay, I figured. Weren’t you wearing a jacket in class earlier?”

“I—I may have given it away…”

“To who?”

“To a dog I saw on the way here…?”

You realized how ridiculous it sounded once you said it out loud, but the soft spot you had towards canines made you do silly things from time to time. 

Heeseung raised a brow at that, “Did you just lose it?”

“Sure, I lost it on this awfully cold day, ” You rolled your eyes.

Heeseung shook his head with a snort, and tugged his hoodie over his head, “Well, why don’t you change out of that?”

A chill racked through your body but you brushed it off, until you glanced down to see your shirt plastered to your body and around the prominent outline of your black bra. 

“Um….”

“Here,” Heeseung deposited his hoodie into your arms before you could refuse, “I’ll ask them for a plastic bag to hold your clothing. Your food just came out, so go change.”

“Thanks.”

As you ignored the stares from others occupying the restaurant and clicked the restroom door shut, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

There really wasn’t a spot on you that wasn’t damp. You stripped out of your top and bra then proceeded to squeeze them out over the sink before tossing them into a plastic bag. You dried down as much as you could with a wad of paper towels then tugged Heeseung’s hoodie over your head. 

Immediately, you were enveloped by his scent; a light sweetness with new undertones of soft musk you hadn’t detected before. The fabric was still warm against your skin with his body heat which made you feel odd. 

You slowly tugged the collar up to your nose then dropped the fabric abruptly. 

Let’s not make this weird. It certainly beats being cold and wet. 

Heeseung eyed you once you remerged. “I ate already and was about to go looking for you to drop off your food.”

You plopped down across from him. “Yeah, sorry. Do you have to go soon?”

He glanced at his phone screen. “In about 10 minutes, for work. I’ll hang out for a while, though.”

“You don’t wanna work on an assignment while I eat?”

Heeseung pressed his cheek against his palm and leaned onto his elbow, his languid eyes on you, “Mm-mm.”

You stared at him before proceeding to shovel the tasty noodles into your mouth, “Okay.”

Heeseung chuckled, “How’d your meeting go?”

“Fine, I guess. My advisor thought he screwed up and almost made me think I had to take an extra two classes, but we straightened that out. I’m on track, and I’ll have a decent load to finish off next semester since it’s my last.”

Heeseung looked like he was in thought as you shared your schedule with him.

“None of those classes ring a bell.”

That fact bummed you out, more than you’d ever show. “Oh, really? What’s your semester looking like next year?”

“Hm, since it’s my last semester too, I’m thinking of going for an internship, it’s about time.”

You dabbed at your lips with a napkin, “That’s actually really good. I need to do that…”

“It’ll help when you apply for jobs, for sure.”

The impending doom of your future weighed heavily on your shoulders, and Heeseung seemed to notice you suddenly felt burdened. 

“So, you like dogs?”

You glanced up mid-chew, “I do!”

“Did you really give a dog your jacket?” Heeseung squinted. 

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Maybe the second time around,” He was amused at how you pouted, “What breeds do you like?”

“I like all breeds. The funniest dogs are ones that are like humans. During last thanksgiving there was this one dog at my aunt’s that wouldn’t let me pet him at first. So, I let him be and sat in the living room alone, but every so often he would saunter in and get closer to me every time,” You laughed at the memory, “Then eventually he got so close, I just stuck my hand out and he pressed up against me for pets. Finicky but adorable…”

Heeseung cleared his throat, and wore a sheepish expression, “Sounds like it… You don’t own any dogs?”

“Not yet. I’m saving up and waiting ‘till I’m done with school. I want to be able to give it the attention it deserves.”

“I think that’s smart.”

You sighed, “Yeah… I wish I had one.”

As you finished your food, Heeseung finally said what was truly on his mind. 

“You should be more careful about walking around campus without a working phone. It gets dark faster these days,” He began. 

His scolding caught you off guard. 

“I am cautious, I’m not dumb,” You interrupted, “And I didn’t mean to. I would’ve charged it in the library or something but I didn’t want to keep you waiting—“

“It would’ve been fine if you left me waiting a little longer to do that. It’s such a big campus where anything could happen when you least expect it, so you should always have your phone on,” Heeseung motioned for you to hand over your phone, “And I know you know that.”

You pouted but dropped it into his hand, and he connected it to a portable charger he took out of his backpack, “Alright, mother.”

Heeseung sighed but gave you a small smile anyways. 

“Are you still at your old job or did you start your new one already?” You asked since Heeseung felt at liberty to say what he wanted. 

Heeseung’s eyes turned troubled. “Still there. Just for a little while longer.”

You pressed, “Where do you work?”

Heeseung’s lips parted to answer but he seemed to think better of it. 

“It’s not the greatest place,” Heeseung checked his phone and stood up, “Sorry, I’ve gotta go. See you.”

You bit your tongue. “Won’t you get all wet if you’re walking to work?”

“Uber,” was all he said with a tight smile, “Don’t worry about it. Get home safe.”

Heeseung left you his charger as he stepped outside into the rain, the deep slope of his shoulders inciting a sense of regret in you. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pushed him on the topic when it was clearly sensitive for him. He didn’t deserve your snappy attitude after he expressed his worry for you either… but you knew he wouldn’t hold you to it because that’s the kind of person he was. 

When you weren’t grabbing dinner with Heeseung, there were evenings when you would pour over your studies and meet Rin in the library, like you always had. 

“So, how are your otome games going? On to the next one?” She questioned. 

Oh shit. You’ve been neglecting your pixel husbands basically since the start of the semester—

“I actually haven’t touched any games in a while.”

“Really now?” Rin seemed unsurprised at such a revelation as she continued, “How about that coding class? These days you seem less stressed about it….”

“Yeah, I finally picked up a thing or two. There’s actually this guy who’s been—“

Rin jumped out of her seat and pointed at you accusingly, the screech of her chair drawing annoyed looks from other students. 

“I’ve been fucking waiting for you to bring him up!”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, how do you—”

“Shhhh!” Someone hushed. 

You both put your heads together and dropped your voices to a whisper. 

“How do you know Heeseung?”

Rin explained everything in detail, perhaps too much detail. Figuring out Heeseung consulted her the day you cried in front of him made your face burn. 

Apparently, he hung out enough in the library to recognize Rin as your friend, although you certainly had never seen him while studying. 

“Truthfully, at first, I was mad at the guy for upsetting you; the dude was too honest for his own good and actually told me he was in deep shit with you. I nearly caused a scene in here, but he seemed really apologetic and genuine about wanting to make things right with you. 

So, I told him food was the way to your heart, but I warned him you’d be a little stuck up about paying for yourself. Seriously, you have the weirdest eating schedule just to achieve ‘optimal efficiency’ and avoid ‘brain fog’ or whatever,” Rin grinned. 

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Free food definitely helped on top of everything else Heeseung managed to pull off since then.  

“I appreciate that, but I can’t believe you knew about everything the entire time,” You felt a tad guilty for not looping her in on the situation, having thought she would’ve teased you about it, “And that he actually went out of his way to ask you about me….”

You couldn’t help but look at him a little differently now. He was serious. 

“Well, I only knew what happened up until that day, but you seemed better these past several weeks, so it looks like my advice worked.”

You slid further into your seat and stared up at the ceiling, “Yeah, I suppose it did.”

“I didn’t want to ruin anything, so I stayed quiet. He’s very cute,” She grinned at you.

You paused, “We’re just friends.”

“What? All that drama for a friendship?”

“Hm…”

Rin rose an impeccably plucked brow at you. 

“Yes,” You sighed, patting her head. 

Your friend pouted, “I would’ve guessed otherwise, girl. There’s still time, though.”

Was there?

Soon enough, another month had flown by— finals were around the corner, and both you and Heeseung were typing up code for your class project when you ran into your first distressing issue in a while. 

You called to him without taking your eyes off the screen, “Hey, something’s off, and I can’t figure out what. I swear if it’s just an extra period somewhere, I’m gonna—“

Heeseung was at your side in a heartbeat, “Let me see.”

You scooted your chair over to make room for his, but he got comfortable on the floor. “Stop kneeling. You know you’re gonna permanently fuck up your kneecaps, right?”

“I’m used to it,” He said simply before he froze up as if he had said something wrong. 

Assuming that he was poking at you, you scoffed, “I don’t ask you for help that often anymore, Hee.”

Heeseung cleared his throat and got to work on your code, “No, I know.”

While you waited for him to finish diagnosing the issue, you secretly inhaled his familiar, comforting scent of sweet lavender out of habit.

You saw him smirk out of the corner of your eye. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, what?”

He shrugged, “You’re doing that thing you do every time I get close.”

Fuck. When did he even– Fuck—

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The tapping of keys halted.

A mischievous lilt made its way into his voice as he faced you, “We’re gonna go that route?” 

“Yes. Yes, we are because you are not going to out me here,” You hissed under your breath. 

“Ha, so you admit that you do take a whiff—“

You took hold of his jaw and forced him to face your computer screen, “Focus.”

Heeseung eyes darkened, but he let out a chuckle. 

You were pressing two fingers to your temple and looking anywhere but at him, so you failed to notice. For the moment, you put aside your pride and stayed quiet until he figured out what the hell was wrong with your project. 

God, how embarrassing. 

A few keyboard and mouse clicks later, and Heeseung was settling back into his seat. “It was an extra period on line 976.”

“Of course it was,” You rolled your eyes and heard him laugh even harder. He was quick to figure out how often he could test your patience…

“Why do you always smell like pastries?” Your sudden question came out as an accusation. 

At this point in your friendship, you found yourself blurting out random things that were on your mind when with Heeseung, and he managed to learn how to go with the flow. 

“I bake in my spare time,” He said, clearly amused. 

You gawked at the new discovery, “I—I guess that explains it….”

“I’ve always baked, it’s sort of just a hobby I never thought to share.”

You swore there was always something to learn about the guy, even at the quick rate that you’d gotten to know him.

“Well, what do you do with all the stuff you make? Keep them all for yourself?” You jabbed at Heeseung.

“No, I just…” His voice quietly tapered off, so you were unable to catch his last words.

“You what?”

“I’ll just give it away to the homeless on the street if I deem it edible,” He muttered. 

“Huh,” You turned to Heeseung, “That’s actually really sweet.”

“It’s nothing,” He pressed his lips together and continued, “By the way, I just started my new job, and my shift is in the evening, so… we’re going to have to postpone Thai nights.”

“Oh. You started your new job finally?” Your heart and stomach dropped; you were so looking forward to it before you’d have to really buckle down for finals, “I guess we’ll have to postpone them. The timing, though….”

Postpone them until when? The two of you had completely different tracks from here on out. Would he even want to hang out with you next semester when there was nothing else to bind your schedules together?

Heeseung leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees, appearing contemplative while watching you cycle through the endless thoughts in your mind.

“I work at this new cafe about ten minutes away from campus. Do you want to drop by and check it out after class? If you want, you could study there until I get off, and then we can have dinner at my place.”

Dinner at his place?

He saw the way your eyes blew up, and he couldn’t tell if it was in shock or excitement. 

“Don’t feel pressured, it was just a thought,” Heeseung brushed off a piece of lint on your knee, his touch lingering, “I get off at around 10:00, so it’d be a later-than-usual dinner.”

“S-sure,” Your voice pitched unusually high, and you nearly threw up in your mouth. 

Geez, calm down! 

Heeseung looked pleased as he stood up from his desk and slung his backpack over his shoulder, “Shall we?”

The moment you stepped foot in the new cafe, your body appreciated the drastic change in temperature inside, the weather was extremely chilly these days. Didn’t change the fact that you’d order something iced, though. 

“Take a look at the menu, I need to get changed, and I’ll be right out to make you something to drink,” Heeseung ushered you further into the store, his hand at your lower back. 

“No problem,” You held Heeseung’s warm gaze and forgot to breathe. 

As Heeseung set off to the back, you exhaled and took in the bright, cozy interior of the cafe along with its high ceilings. Evening light filtered through the tall windows, casting the whole place in warmth. 

What a nice cafe to work at. I could study here more often too.

The aroma of ground coffee beans and sweet pastries filled your nose, causing your brain to perk up at the thought of caffeine even though it was evening. The people that occupied the space were relatively quiet– the seats were mainly filled with a few students and young professionals. 

An empty table was waiting for you in the corner, so you set down your belongings there and pulled out your wallet. Curious about their menu, you returned to the counter to consider the items. 

A handsome, light-haired young man eagerly approached from behind the bar upon seeing you, “Hi there! What can I get for you?”

Your brain raced for an answer even though you were supposed to wait for Heeseung. “Um, I’ll try the iced matcha latte….”

“Perfect,” He gave you a thousand-watt smile, “Anything else I can get you? We have macarons that we bake daily.”

“Sure,” You considered the colorful rows of macarons behind the glass counter, “I’ll try a lavender one and a vanilla bean.”

As the boy picked out your macarons, you imagined how Heeseung might look like working his shift here, from his mannerisms to his barista skills and if he dealt with customers easily or not. It was something you’d never thought of previously since you had no clue about his work.

“I threw in a couple of other popular flavors on the house,” the boy gave you a wink, making you blush unexpectedly.

“Oh, thank you so much!”

The barista took a step to his right without taking his eyes off you and bumped right into Heeseung, who suddenly appeared. You noticed he looked especially cute in his work uniform, somehow fitting your exact image of how a barista would look in his white button-down and his chestnut-colored apron. A smile made its way onto your face; his glasses completed the coffee connoisseur look. 

“Sorry, man—“

“Hey, no worries. I’ll ring her up,” Your eyes widened at the slight insistence in Heeseung’s voice that left no room for argument, “Jake, meet ___.”

“Hey,” Jake gave you a little wave, despite looking a bit confused at why Heeseung intercepted. 

“___, this is my friend Jake. He also goes to our University,” He mentioned while tinkering with the cash register.

You took out your card and gave Jake a shy smile, “Oh, nice. Great to meet you.”

He winked at you, “Likewise.”

Apparently, only hot people work here, you surmised. 

You thought you saw Heeseung pout at the exchange between you and Jake, but whether or not he actually did, he ignored your card and handed over your bag of macarons, swiftly stepping away to prepare your drink.

“Wait, I need to pay—“

“I’ve got you. It’ll just be a few minutes,” he called over his shoulder and got to work.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

Why did he have to act so sweet sometimes?

“I mean, I knew you had a girlfriend, but you should’ve told me she was dropping by,” Jake chuckled as he pulled up by Heeseung’s side.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’s not?” Jake questioned. 

“But I’m interested in her,” Heeseung clarified while frothing your matcha latte a bit too aggressively. 

“Aw,” Jake moped, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, “That’s too bad, she’s kinda….”

When it went silent, Jake playfully glanced over at Heeseung, who was staring him down. He slapped him on the back, “Only messing with you, dude.”

“Right.”

Just as you finished unpacking and settling in at the corner table, Heeseung approached with your matcha latte in hand and set it down in front of you. 

“That was quick,” You felt giddy getting the special treatment.

“Give it a try, and let me know if it needs anything.”

You stirred the pretty green liquid with the straw and took a sip, glancing up at Heeseung as you did so. Heeseung bit his lip and tilted his head expectantly.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good, just let me know if you need anything,” He smiled, but before he could leave, you caught his sleeve.

“Wait, have a macaron before you go. Jake gave me a lot,” You randomly chose the dusty pink one that smelled like roses and held it up for him to take.

Instead, he drew close, placing his hand on the back of your chair to steady himself, parted his lips, and waited. You glanced up at him to check if he was joking, but the glimmer in his eye said otherwise.  

Woah—

Brain on autopilot, you fed it to him, and he took a bite out of the fresh macaron.

He licked at his lips and smirked at you, “Thanks.”

After he disappeared behind the counter, you dropped your forehead into your hand, flabbergasted. You just knew your face was so red. 

This crazy ass—

What, did he expect you to finish the remainder of the macaron? 

This was too much for you to handle– Heeseung was too much for you to handle today.

And, of course, you finished it.

Two hours flew by at your table while you were jamming to some nostalgic tunes in your own little world while studying for your upcoming finals. 

Feeling the urge to stretch, you took off your headphones and extended your stiff limbs with a wince.

Condensation ran down your empty glass of matcha, and you had finished nibbling on your macarons earlier. Besides the lavender and vanilla flavors you had chosen, the rose one was pretty aromatic, and the other strawberries and cream flavor Jake picked out for you was delicious. The snacks certainly whet your appetite, and now you were more than looking forward to having dinner with Heeseung… at his place. 

You peered at Heeseung over the top of your laptop as he kept busy behind the espresso bar; Jake was a very charismatic cashier, as you experienced first-hand, while Heeseung was rather efficient at serving up beverages and hopping in to take orders when needed. They seemed to handle themselves well as a team, as far as you could tell from the past couple of hours.

Girls and guys often wandered in to gawk at the two, and you completely understood why. Nonetheless, it didn’t help the surge of discomfort you felt when you caught two girls checking Heeseung out from behind. There was nothing you could do but seethe in your seat.

Relax. They’re not the ones headed home with him tonight. 

Ah, that reminder helped, sort of. 

Now you were feeling antsy about the fact that Heeseung had invited you over in the first place. There was no way you prepared in any way, shape or form with how little heads up he gave you, but you couldn’t have easily passed up the opportunity to get a look at his place and spend more time with him. 

And if he baked, he had to be a good cook, no?

The chatty girls ended up being the last customers to leave the cafe, except for you in the corner, partially anxious but mostly content because you were alone, and so was Heeseung. 

After a quiet period, you were drawn from your studies when a woman who stood out from the average patron strolled into the cafe. She was dressed well enough to convince you that she was a model or at least an influencer of sorts, especially by the confident way she held herself. 

Jake welcomed her warmly, and you were about to slip your headphones back on when you heard her speak, “Hello. Does Heeseung work here?”

“Yeah! Do you want me to get him for you? He’s prepping food in the back.”

“Please.”

Who is she? A friend?

Jake made his way to the back kitchens. “Hey, Heeseung! Someone’s here to see you!”

“One sec,” You heard Heeseung call. 

The woman stood calmly and patiently at the counter; she appeared to be in her mid-twenties and looked sharp in all-black fashion with a set of alluring, shadowy eyes. An uneasy feeling passed through your stomach at the way she suddenly rolled her shoulders and neck— you couldn’t put a finger on it, but if it involved Heeseung, you didn’t like it.

Heeseung emerged from the kitchen doors, and you became deeply concerned at how his face went stoic upon seeing the mysterious woman. Jake sensed something was off as well and looked back and forth between the two. 

“Hi. I hope I caught you at a good time. As you know, I’ve been wanting to chat,” Her tone was overtly sweet. 

Heeseung rounded the counter and approached her, dropping his voice to an inaudible murmur. 

Whispers were exchanged between them; you focused on trying to read their lips, but it was difficult. They were familiar with each other, that much you could tell. However, they couldn’t have looked like more complete opposites. 

Feeling that you were being nosy, you stopped staring and returned to your project at hand, not wanting to overstep any further. 

A sharp slap followed by a harsh clatter resounded in the empty cafe, alerting you.

Shocked, your head whipped towards the source of the noise, only to see Heeseung, whose face was angled away from you. Your sights landed on his glasses on the tile floor.

The woman standing in front of him took an easy breath, but the way she flicked her wrist gave away her rage.

Somehow, you were already standing from your seat, crossing the floor, “Excuse me. Did you just–”

The woman kept her eyes trained on Heeseung, “Mind your own business, love.”

Jake jumped in front of you, waving his hands, “Jesus— Easy, easy. I’ll handle this.” 

Red filled your vision once your brain registered what had happened, but you had enough sense to stand your ground a safe distance away— for that woman’s sake.

“Get her out of here before I do it myself,” you gritted out. 

Jake nodded and was quick to address the woman, “Miss, I’m not sure what’s going on, but you can’t just assault our staff. I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately due to store policy.”

She eyed you, and her sharp expression slowly morphed into a feigned smile, startling you.

“Just one more thing,” She inclined her chin towards Heeseung, “Then we’ll chat back at my place after you wrap up here, alright, love?”

Heeseung’s gaze flickered at the woman, but he said nothing. 

She sauntered up to him, much too close for anyone’s comfort, and reached out to take hold of his chin, her sharp nails gauging into his skin. Stunned, you watched him shut his eyes tightly, how his brows drew together— and then he caught her wrist before she could get any closer.

Heeseung spoke in an extremely deliberate tone, “No. This is the last time I’ll be saying this to you. We’re finished. We’ve been finished. Do you understand?”

As the woman’s fingers curled into a fist, so did yours. 

“Leave. If I see you bothering any customers or staff who occupy this space, I’ll let the authorities deal with you,” He warned.

“I’ve taken care of you since we were children, Heeseung.”

The statement took you by surprise. 

“We’re done talking,” Heeseung tugged her past you and Jake towards the cafe entrance. She pulled back on his grip, but he remained unfazed. 

The two of you watched him take her outside and proceed to lock up the front of the store. Jake quickly followed and began to pull down the blinds as the woman pressed up against the windows. Her eyes slowly dragged over your form in the most demeaning manner. 

“Talk about a crazy ex,” Jake murmured to no one in particular, pressing his back against the covered window. You exhaled heavily, speechless at the turn of events.

When you bent over to pick up Heeseung’s glasses and inspect them, you noticed a lens had cracked. One could only imagine how much the slap must’ve stung. 

Heeseung touched the small of your back, “I’m really sorry you had to see that.”

Feeling left in the dark, you turned around and gave him a look of confusion, “Exactly how long has it been since you broke up with your ex?”

“Since the start of the semester,” Heeseung answered right away, “This is the first time I’ve seen her since. I don’t know how she found out about my new job.”

“And she still can’t take a hint?” Jake asked while cleaning up behind the register. 

“She will now because I’m not entertaining her games.”

You felt relief, but you immediately regretted the question. 

What a thing for me to ask after everything that just took place, you thought, ashamed. 

“Are you okay?” Your hand was shaky when you reached out to touch his cheek. 

His fingers brushed against the back of your hand in reassurance. 

“I’m fine. I’ll be better once we get out of here and grab something to eat back at my place,” He managed to give you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

[commanderlioness]

Captain Catra… the name meant a lot of different things to a lot of different people.

To First Mate Scorpia, Catra was her best friend who had escaped from the Fright Zone with her, giving her a new life and a much greater purpose than anything the horrid witch and ex-lord of the Horde had promised.

For Pilot Entrapta, Catra was a shield against a world that had never really understood her nor tolerated her. She was also the only person to ever successfully steal some of the most advanced technology in all Etheria, a Horde ship, and she was content to let Entrapta play with all of it.

For the princesses and their kingdoms, the feline was a dangerous bandit and a terrible nuisance.

However, for Adora, Princess of Brightmoon, the name of Captain Catra bore no importance at all...

OR

Here is yet another pirate AU where the name of Captain Catra will become VERY important to Princess Adora whether she likes it or not... ;)

***

Hey everyone! Here's my contribution to the SPOP Big Bang hosted by SPOP Creative Flex for the 4th anniversary of She-Ra and Princesses of Power @spopbang. My deepest thanks to all the awesome people who made this event possible and to my amazing partner @mariabrightmoon, whose unending enthusiasm, talent and patience are the main reason this fic exists! So, without any further ado, here is yet another She-Ra Pirate AU! I hope you enjoy! :))

[nenelonomh]

organization 101

organization is about how we gather stimuli in our environment to complete tasks quickly and more effectively. it's about arranging our surroundings, providing order, and structuring items and activities around us.

this topic can be applied in so many instances - including physical spaces, digital files, schedules, and mental clarity.

staying organized offers several benefits:

★ when you're organized, you waste less time searching for things or figuring out what to do next. this efficiency leads to increased productivity

★ clutter and chaos can contribute to stress. an organized environment promotes a sense of calm and control.

★ organization helps you allocate time effectively. you can prioritize tasks and allocate resources efficiently.

★ a clutter-free workspace (or living space) allows you to concentrate better on the task at hand.

★ organized spaces encourage healthier habits, such as regular exercise, balanced meals, and adequate rest.

but how can you stay organized?

★ start with one area of focus (e.g. closet, desk, documents, ...) and gradually expand. focusing on one area allows you to see tangible progress, and as you declutter or organize, you'll build momentum to tackle other spaces.

trying to organize everything at once can be overwhelming. by narrowing your focus, you can prevent feeling swamped. concentrating on a specific area also allows you to learn effective strategies,, which you can apply to other parts of your life!

★ keep a to-do list. you can use a planner or digital tools to track tasks - and prioritize and sort tasks by urgency. write things down promptly to avoid forgetting them.

by freeing your mind from trying to remember all of your tasks, this mental offloading allows you to focus on the present moment. you can also assign urgency and importance, ensuring you will tackle what matters most.

★ give everything a home. clutter happens when items lack designated spaces. organize your physical and digital spaces intentionally.

★ once organized, maintain order consistently by building habits and systems. regularly review and adjust your systems when needed.

maintaining daily habits can significantly contribute to staying organized.

digital files

personally, the biggest issue i have with organization is building (and maintaining) a good system for digital files. it is crucial for me to learn how to organize these well, however, as a digital creator.

here is the process:

★ create a folder structure,, and design a clear hierarchy of folders that reflect your workflow. organize files logically based on projects, departments, dates, or file types.

at the moment i sort my files as content home < links, content plan, instagram, pinterest, tumblr, youtube < scheduling, post ideas

however, sometimes i find myself with documents that don't fit any of these sections. my plan for the future is to reorganize this to be the most effective it can.

★ use descriptive file names,, and name files clearly and concisely. include relevant keywords to make searching easier

★ consider using tags to categorize files across multiple dimensions. tags enhance searchability and allow flexible organization.

this is something that i am looking to employ!

★ utilize cloud services like google drive or dropbox for easy access from anywhere.

i will forever be a notion girl,, even though it is not quite a cloud service, it allows me a similar experience.

★ make decluttering a routine. delete duplicate or unnecessary files.

★ pin essential folders to your sidebar for quick access.

physical decluttering

writing this, i was reminded of the (horrid) bedrotting trend, especially those videos where people would show their rooms with shit everywhere and mould growing on stuff. i'm aware that some people find it super hard to maintain organization or declutter - hoarding is a very real issue.

the benefits of staying organized were previously mentioned, but decluttering specifically has its own little set of positives. this includes reduced stress, improved focus, enhanced productivity, and more positive overall wellbeing.

here are some essential tips if you are struggling to get started:

choose a small area or category to begin decluttering. set a timer (15-30 minutes) and sort items in that area into 'keep', 'donate', 'trash', or 'unsure' piles.

you could also attempt a room-by-room approach, by tackling one room at a time. focus on completing each room fully before moving on to the next.

try to organize your belongings into categories (keep, donate, sell, discard) to make decisions easier.

remember - progress comes from consistent effort, and small steps lead to a clutter-free space.

further reading

i hope today's post was helpful!

as for further reading, check out these sites: ★ How to Declutter Your Home: 6 Best Room-by-Room Methods (thespruce.com) ★ First Steps to Decluttering - Understanding the Clutter - Being Minimalist ★ Productivity, Organization & Personal-Development | 101 Planners ★ Executive Functioning Skills 101: Organization | Life Skills Advocate ★ How to Be Organized - 10+ Habits - Organized 31 ★ How to Be More Organized & Productive | 10 Habits for Life Organization (youtube.com) ★ How to Be More Organized (verywellmind.com) ★ How to Organize Your Digital Files | Reviews by Wirecutter (nytimes.com) ★ Master How to Organize Digital File Management (riverfy.com)

❤️ nene

image source: pinterest

[nikethestatue]

A Match Baked In Heaven

Chapter XVII

Everlasting Light

Elain Archeron threaded a pearl earring into her ear and then stepped back, looking at her reflection in the mirror. 

For the wedding, she decided to go dramatic and memorable. Her dress was pale pink and cream, form-fitting, with an ostentatious flower at the shoulder. The gown (it really was more of a gown, rather than just a dress) was satin and chiffon, with delicate silk inserts and appliqué flowers. 

She kept her hair simple, in a neat chignon, and wrapped a narrow satin ribbon around her head in lieu of a hat.

It was a dress worthy of a wedding. A dress worthy of a bride. 

Only it wasn’t her wedding. And she wasn’t the bride. 

And the dress was much too expensive and glamorous for a wedding guest. There was nothing subtle about it. But for once, Elain Archeron chose not to be demure, modest and shyly elegant. No. Today, she was going to arrive in style and overshadow the bride. Today, she was going to be outlandish. 

She supposed that that’s the danger one ran into when they invited their ex to their wedding. But that was not her problem, frankly. 

Piglet arrived in her bedroom and offered his male support by barking his approval. He was looking rather spiffy himself, dressed in a proper morning suit, with a waistcoat and a pale pearl tie, to match her dress. 

He was still getting used to his new leg prosthetic, and while he didn’t like it when he was first fitted with it, now, three weeks later, he refused to go outside without it.

Elain's Dress

-

“It’s all paid for,” the veterinarian told her when Elain took Piglet for his first fitting,

“Pardon?” She was perplexed. How would anyone know about her bringing Piglet here? She hadn’t even told her sisters about it. In case the procedure didn’t work, she preferred to keep it secret before she was sure that Piglet would accept it. He was acting awfully bitey at the fitting and gave her deathly side eyes, while refusing to look at her once it was done. 

The receptionist, who was handling the financials, looked at the monitor and read out loud, 

‘Looks like…let’s see here. A Mr. Azriel Night? Paid in full. It says here…oh, well, he is your partner, Miss Archeron,’ she laughed, ‘I suppose I don’t have to tell you that.’

‘I’d prefer to pay for it myself,’ Elain argued tersely. At the mention of his name, she immediately felt the squeeze in her throat and a suffocating pressure in her chest, as she fought her tears. She was not going to burst in tears in front of this poor, well-meaning woman. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself in public. 

The receptionist blushed and scrambled, muttering, ‘Miss Archeron, it would be difficult. We’d have to refund the purchase, and since Mr. Night hasn’t requested it…I’m sure I can contact him,’

Pursing her lips, Elain managed to remain visibly calm. She didn’t want to argue. Besides, Piglet was already growling at her and was about to start some shit right in the office, so she decided to handle this later, on the phone. 

She absolutely wasn’t going to take any charity or handouts from that man. Not at all. He didn’t deserve to know that he contributed to Piglet’s well-being in any manner. He didn’t. She wouldn’t allow him to. 

The problem was that it went even further than Azriel paying for the robotic prosthesis. That same week she also received a letter from Piglet’s regular vet, notifying her that Piglet’s longevity shots have been paid for in full. In perpetuity. As in, forever. That horrid, treacherous man dared to…Elain couldn’t believe it. Enraged, she rang Cassian. 

Before the man could say ‘hello’, she screamed into the phone,

‘Tell your brother to leave us alone! He is not to make attempts at helping my dog with anything. Piglet isn’t his responsibility. We don’t need him!’

‘What?’ Cassian asked dumbly. 

‘You heard me!’ She snapped at him. ‘I don’t need anything from him. Just my fee. I’m quite sure that he still owes me for setting him up.’

‘Yeah, he does,’ Cassian agreed, his tone sombre and defeated. ‘That he does.’

‘Exactly. Beyond my fee, I’m not interested in hearing anything from or about him. I hope you understand.’

‘I understand.’

‘Thanks. Bye!’

But before she could hang up, Cassian called after her and quickly asked, “and you? How are you?’’

She paused and he heard her swallow. She didn’t answer for a long time. He wasn’t even sure if she was still on the line when at last, he heard her say, ‘I’m brilliant.’

“You don’t need to say that to me,” he snapped at her. 

She scoffed, ‘I don’t owe you anything, Cass. So there is that. Tell him that I don’t need anything from him. That’s all I’m asking of you.’ 

He sighed heavily and told her, 

“Okay”.

-

It was a surprisingly nice day for early March. It was sunny and warm and wisteria began blooming all around Bloomsbury and Russell Square. 

Her father sent a car for her, so she wouldn’t have to take a taxi. At first, Elain didn’t want to bother, but after she decided on her dress, she changed her mind. Now, there was a Bentley waiting for her on the street. 

She hated that she almost greeted her father’s driver as ‘Dev’, but she stopped herself at the last moment. Piglet stopped to inspect the car, not recognising it and he also paused when he saw the new driver. He was going to give him paw, like he did with Dev, but this wasn’t Dev and Piglet waited for Elain to do something. 

“Lady Elain,” the driver greeted her as he opened the door and then looked at the pug and said, “and this is Piglet, I assume.”

“It is. Thank you,” she turned to the dog and helped him inside the vehicle. “We have a stop to make and pick up another individual.”

“Of course,” the driver said simply and then assisted her inside the car, and even picked up and loaded the train of her dress inside, arranging it on the floor, so it wouldn’t wrinkle. She told him the address and they took off. 

Elain felt detached from herself, as if she was looking at her body from the outside. She was seemingly standing behind a glass and observing her life, but it wasn’t hers. Not really. Her life should’ve been completely different right now. She should’ve been with Azriel. Loved by him. Loving him. She should’ve been going to her own wedding. She should’ve been happy.

But she wasn’t. 

Elain wasn’t happy.

As they detoured through Marylebone towards Paddington, Elain was of mind to call the whole thing off. She didn’t need to go to the wedding. She could make an excuse. It was just her, and her family would be represented just fine by Nesta and Feyre. There was no need for her to torture herself or her dog with all of this. 

But, by the time she was ready to say something to the driver, they were pulling around Radnor Mews–unbearably charming and picturesque–and she spotted a tall, statuesque man standing on the corner, looking at his phone.

The Bentley pulled to the curb and the driver got out to open the door. 

“Hey gorgeous!” the man slid inside the cabin, taking up about as much space as Azriel normally would.

Goddamn it. Enough already. Enough with Azriel!

Elain squeezed her eyes tightly, before sighing and looking at her companion.

“Fen,” she breathed.

His dark, luminous eyes skimmed over her elaborate dress, the large flower on her shoulder, and then he reached and gently drew his finger from her cheek down to her collarbone.

“My god you are beautiful,” he gawked, shaking his head. “Are you okay to do this?”

She bit her lip and then nodded. If he noticed her reluctance, he didn’t show it, but only took her hand in his and threaded their fingers together.

Fenris Beem-Moon was Elain’s first…well, everything. Her first in many ways. Her first boyfriend. Her first major crush. He took her on her first date when they were 16 years old. The first time she got drunk was with Fen and he held her hair back while she puked miserably in a pub loo. He attempted to teach her to drive, to the detriment of his own life–and failed. He was her first man–the one who took her virginity, when they went to Brighton for a long weekend. Fen was the first (and only) man, so far, to consistently provide Elain with toe-curling orgasms.

They parted ways when both went to the university. Elain–to Bristol, while Fen went to Dartmouth in the US. Nowadays, she was a matchmaker to the wealthy and the titled, and he was managing a hedge fund.

“Hey Pugnatious the Great,” Fen rubbed Piglet’s back and the pug leaned against him in a friendly way. Elain chuckled at the moniker. Fenris was one of a select few whom Piglet actually liked, and not just tolerated. He and her pug didn’t have the soul-crushing adoration like Piglet had with Azriel, but,

Here she was. AGAIN. Thinking about Azriel.

She shook her head and scoffed at her own thoughts. She was pathetic. No other word for it. Pathetic. She hated herself for constantly thinking about that asshole. For being so weak and stupid that all her thoughts revolved around an unworthy man. 

Fen looked at her, sensing her distress and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. His lips pressed to her temple and he rubbed his thumb over her bare shoulder.

“How do you want to play this?” he asked at last, once Elain stilled beneath his arm and lay her head on his shoulder. “Are we making him jealous? Should I make him eat a bag of dicks?”

She snorted at that.

“Should I fuck him up for making you sad?” he continued.

“He is big,”

Bubbling his lips, Fen chuckled, “Not as big as me, elske.”

Then he laughed quietly, “you got a type, that’s for sure! You like a big man,” 

She sighed, but did not argue. She liked them big and strong.

Then, with a scowl, he added, “though not sure where your Eris fits in. At least the Douchebag is handsome. Not as handsome as me,”

“No,” she drawled, “of course not,”

“But he is handsome enough. Eris…fuck, babe, he is a ginger!”

Laughing at his antics, Elain pushed at his chest, saying, “you are an anti-gingerite!”

“One word, babe–ginger pubes!” he announced dramatically and Elain shuddered. 

“Eww, Fen, don’t be gross,”

“Hey, I wasn’t the one nosing into ginger pubes,” he reminded her. 

“It’s two words, by the way.”

“Don’t change the subject,” he cocked his brow. “Ginger pubes are ginger pubes. Is he hung at least?

She rolled her eyes and offered a shrug. 

“So, he could be bigger,” Fenris confirmed. 

Elain knew what he was doing–he was cheering her up, saying all kinds of nonsense, so she wouldn’t have to think of what she was about to face. And for that, she was grateful.

But as they drove towards the Royal Boroughs of Kensington and Chelsea, she knew that no amount of pep talks or cheering up could change the reality of what she was about to experience. 

Many had wondered as to why Elain and Fenris did not end up together? They seemed to have had everything in common–they were childhood friends, they were both wildly attractive, both came from wealthy, illustrious families, Fenris being the son of the head of the Beem banking dynasty and a Danish Countess. What’s more, they had a fine, loving, amicable relationship. However, Fenris had a secret, to which few were privy, but Elain knew. His sexual tastes ran exotic–he was a Dom and a co-owner of a BDSM club in Soho. He was their superstar performer, along with his submissive and real-life lover Kat. Fen and Kat were soulmates, and Elain was always envious of their relationship–the love, the trust, the adoration. She was less fanatical about the caning and the fisting on stage (which she’d watched when she visited the club), but she did not judge her best mate. What’s more, contrary to popular belief, Elain was a lot less uptight and uncomfortable with sex than most people assumed. Fenris had guaranteed that. Her only problem was that she kept ending up with sexually boring men. After Fen, only Azriel came close to being as spectacular, but,

Gah!

She was thinking about him again. 

But it was curious, now that she thought about it, that Azriel basically fisted her that one time–their only real intimate time. What did it say about her? What did it say about her because she loved it?

“We can’t make him jealous,” she told Fenris quietly, hiding her face in his chest. He stroked the back of her neck, holding her close. “He is literally marrying someone else.”

“Maybe he is delirious,” Fen offered. “Like a brain inflammation,”

“Oh, is that what it is?” she huffed a sceptical sigh. 

“I mean it’s a fairly reasonable explanation as to why he’d be marrying someone else when he had you and, as you told me, he said that he loved you.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek and murmured,

“Or, maybe, he never loved me at all.”

-

Azriel Night adjusted his cufflinks and then glanced at his watch.

10:53 am.

The guests were milling about in the airy Cadogan Suite of the Old Chelsea Town Hall, enjoying cocktails and admiring the Victorian architecture of the pale grey and blue walls and the impressive marble and granite fireplace. It wasn’t exactly a huge gathering, only about twenty guests, and most of them were family anyway. And that suited him just fine. 

Old Chelsea Town Hall, London

He already felt like shit, hot and tense, his dark navy suit seemingly too tight and stifling around the shoulders. He readjusted the sleeves about thirty times and still he couldn’t get comfortable. Truthfully, Azriel didn’t need any more people witnessing the shitshow that was about to take place. 

Plopping heavily on a chair he buried his head in his hands. He was alone in the antechamber of the reception room, his eyes darting towards the door every five seconds.

“You alright?” he heard Cassian’s voice, but didn’t answer.

Was he alright? Sure didn’t feel like it.

“She’ll come,” Cassian assured him. “She will. She texted Nes earlier,”

“Even if she does show up,” Azriel interrupted him, “it won’t change anything.”

Cassian sighed and didn’t argue. Probably not. Azriel had fucked up and Cassian didn’t think that Elain was going to suddenly forgive him just like that. Or should. Or would. 

Besides, he was tasked with telling Azriel one other nugget of shit,

“Sooo…I just wanted you to know,” he began saying slowly, “that she would be coming with,”

“Who the fuck is that?!” Azriel snarled angrily and jumped to his feet. “Who is that? Who is with her?”

“Mmm, yeah, that’s what I was saying,” Cassian muttered, but before he could continue, he was stopped by the look on Azirel’s face.

The look of adoration and utter amazement. Anger too, but mostly Az looked both flabbergasted and smitten. Cassian followed his brother’s gaze and immediately whistled under his breath. 

Elain Archeron glided into the room, dressed in a spectacular satin gown, which accentuated her round curves and stunned with its haute couture details. Cassian wasn’t exactly a fashionista, but he could tell when a woman looked good. And Elain looked spectacular! This dress–pale blush pink–was decorated with bold, but delicate flowers at the bottom and on her shoulder, and he guessed that every embellishment was handmade. If ever there was a princess, Elain was most certainly one today. 

And like a true princess, she arrived exactly on time. 

And just like that, all eyes were on her. 

But she did not react. Nothing outwardly but a blase, relaxed appearance. 

What’s more, Elain was draped over one beast of a man–absolutely huge, at least 6”6–so handsome, he could only be called ‘breathtaking’. Cassian was staunchly straight and liked pussy more than he liked just about anything else, but fuck it–he’d give this bloke a go if the opportunity presented itself. The man had a perfect, unblemished, ridiculously symmetrical face, with a jaw that could cut glass, dark, almost black eyes and a leonine head of gorgeous golden hair. His form fit his face–muscular, toned, firm, but compact in a way professional athletes were. 

And speaking of professional athletes–the one next to him, his own brother, was just about vibrating with dark, pent up energy. 

“We are not brawling,” Cassian cautioned him sternly.

“Who the fuck is he?” Azriel hissed. 

“Whoever he is,” Cassian said, “he can take you,”

“Pfff,” Azriel snorted, but it wasn’t a confident snort. He realised that the blond god would make a worthy opponent if push came to shove. 

“You need to calm down,” Cassian warned. 

“If that cocksucker is fucking my wom-,”

“She is not your woman,” Cassian reminded him. 

“Fuck you, Cass.”

“Whatever.”

Meanwhile, Piglet weaved between the man’s legs and sat down at his side, while the man bent and rubbed the pug’s neck, and then fished something out of his pocket and gave it to Piglet to chew. 

“The fuck he is giving him treats!” Azriel seethed, while Cassian shook his head and said, 

“Why are you acting like some overprotective boyfriend? You left her,”

“And why is he touching her like that?” Azriel completely ignored Cassian’s words, as he watched the disgustingly good looking bloke, on whose arm Elain was literally hanging, turn and cup Elain’s face in his massive hand, his fingers on her cheek and then kiss the top of her head, right on the satin band that held her hair in place.

KISS HER HEAD!!!

“Little Piggy, you are so handsome!!” Azriel heard Feyre’s excited screeching and then, to his surprise, she greeted the blond guy, “Fen, long time no see! How are you?!”

She reached up and he kissed her cheek, but before he answered, she prattled forth, “I didn’t know you were coming today. Are you two back together?”

Back together???

“It would be so good if you got back together,” she continued, smiling breathlessly.

Elain pursed her lips and snapped, “Fey!”

“What, what?!” Feyre began to backtrack. “I am just saying.”

The man, Fen, had an amused smirk playing on his lips, his fingers still stroking Elain’s bare shoulders. 

“It’s good to see you, Feyre,” he said simply. 

“But you are,” Feyre started again, but then Elain’s attention, along with her head, turned to Azriel.

-

Unable to wait any longer, Azriel got up and walked across the room, noticing how Elain had tensed the moment he stepped out of the antechamber and made his way towards her. 

She looked indescribably beautiful today. A little sad. A little nervous, though she covered it up pretty well. But overwhelmingly, she was simply stunning. That dress…Azriel wasn’t sure what to make of it, because she looked both bridal and regal, a queen, but also a timid virgin. Where did you even get a dress like that? And how do you come to a decision which says ‘yeah, I am going to throw this on today. To a wedding. Which isn’t my own.’ He figured that it was a very Elain thing to do–to march to the beat of her own drum, wearing what she liked–but still. This was ballsy. 

The blond bloke still had his hand on her though. It was a proprietary hold–his long fingers holding her by the back of the neck. Like a lover. Like she belonged to him.

Azriel barely managed to hold back an animalistic snarl. Barely managed to hold back and not lunge at the guy and break his fingers, thus removing them from Elain’s bare flesh. 

“You came,” he said instead, balling his hands behind his back. He was almost on top of them, standing so close that he could feel the warmth of Elains body and smell her sweet, delicious jasmine perfume. He didn’t bother with any kind of preamble. He didn’t have it in him to engage in small talk or act decently. He wanted to rip the man’s arms right off and then press her to her knees on the floor and fuck her brutally on the guy’s bleeding corpse.

Elain turned to face him–her expression placid, and almost disinterested. As if he was interrupting something and she needed to give him her time and attention.

She plastered a fake smile on her face and turned fully to him. The blond man’s hand did not leave her neck. Azriel gritted his teeth. 

“Of course,” she nodded easily, a bland smirk on her lips. “I always attend these weddings–if the clients that I set up invite me, I gladly accept. Tell me, Azriel, where is Gwyn?”

He ignored her question and asked instead, “And who is your date?”

The man’s hand remained on her neck. 

“Fenris Beem-Moon,” the bloke said and extended his other hand to Azriel. 

Elain’s expression was inscrutable. She watched Azriel shake Fenris’s hand with a pained expression though he managed to contain himself. But Elain knew him well–could read all his micro expressions like an open book. She was well aware of the fact that Azriel was fuming inside, but pretended to pretend like he didn’t care. It didn’t help matters that Fenris intended on making Azriel jealous, by stroking her throat with his knuckles, before wrapping his fingers over the back of her neck. 

“And you are her date?” Azriel asked, his voice hollow.

Fen didn’t confirm or deny, but only said ‘El needed a plus one and here I am’. 

“And here you are,” Azriel echoed.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but that was cut short by a loud screeching roar that came out of Piglet once he beheld Azriel in his sight. The big brown bug eyes blinked and Piglet sized Azriel up, and determined that the proximity to Elain was too much for him to allow. With an enraged bark, he bounced on the floor, flying out of Feyre’s arms. 

It was all happening in slow motion. Everyone turned and attempted to catch him, but he deployed his full parkour moves and galloped towards Azriel with angry, hateful barks. 

Azriel didn’t know how to react, but Piglet solved the dilemma for him, when he lunged at him and sunk his sharp little teeth into Azriel’s hand.

“Awww, fuck!” Azriel cried, not knowing how to avoid the attack. Because Piglet was definitely attacking. Once he drew blood from Azriel’s palm, he latched onto his leg, biting him painfully, making him bleed yet again and Azriel noticed  blood stains on his trouser leg. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he roared, “stop it! Awww! Fuck! Stop biting me!”

Piglet didn’t let up for a second. He jumped and bit and scratched, pushing Azriel back and away from Elain. He raged and slashed, with claws and teeth, and yes, he could’ve been picked up and thrown aside, but Azriel couldn’t do that.

And then Piglet went for the jugular. Or rather, for Azriel’s groin, latching on to his thigh and attempting to reach the most sensitive area. The only thing that helped Azriel in that moment was the fact that he was tall, and Piglet miscalculated the jump, and instead of biting his dick, he bit his thigh. It was like wrestling that cannibalistic rabbit from ‘Monty Python’--Azriel tried to pull the pug off his leg, but it was surprisingly more difficult than he anticipated. Obviously he could've been rough with the pug and hurt him, but Azriel wasn’t going to go there. Piglet wiggled, snarled and growled angrily, while he searched for more flesh to bite, looking for reactions that caused the most pain and discomfort to Azriel, and when seeing it, biting harder. 

It was Elain, at last, who jumped on the dog and tried to wrestle him away. He wouldn’t budge though, no matter how she tried to pry him off or ordered him to stop. 

“Piglet, Piglet,” she pleaded, afraid to stick her finger in his mouth to loosen his hold. “Stop. Stop.”

Cassian stepped in, trying to hold the dog off, only to receive a scratch from the angry little paw. Feyre tried as well, waving cheese and bread in her hands–who even knows how she got those–but Piglet didn’t care. Fenris pulled on the pug, grabbing him around the body, but they just heard the cloth rip and Azriel winced in pain.

Finally, Elain snapped, “Piglet! Stop right now. You are hurting daddy. Stop. You love daddy,” she reminded him, but he roared at her in response. “I don’t care. You don’t bite. Even if your feelings are hurt and he left you,” she added ruthlessly. “You are better than that.”

She gently tugged him and he finally released Azriel’s leg and trouser. Piglet was panting, glaring at Azriel with hate and resentment. 

“Pink,” Azriel began saying, but Piglet snarled at him, baring his teeth and at that point, Fenris grabbed him from Elain’s arms and held him tightly to his chest. At that, something broke inside of Azriel, who watched his best mate in the arms of another man. Now, Fenris had both the dog and Azriel’s woman as his own.

Elain, bless her weak and stupid heart, muttered, “My god, Azriel. You are bleeding! Your suit…”

Azriel was bleeding. From his hand and his thigh and his ankle. His trousers were pretty much ruined. 

Rhysand, who was observing the drama and the raging pug attack, sauntered towards their little group, hands in his pockets, and gave Azriel a once over, shaking his head like a disappointed father. 

“I will make a call to get you new trousers,” he offered. “Who made your suit?”

“Dege and Skinner,” Azriel answered. 

That announcement received a smirk of approval from his billionaire lord cousin and if there was anyone who could get a new pair of trousers delivered in a matter of hours, it would be Rhysand. 

“You need to have this cleaned,” Elain piped, looking at the pooling blood that dripped from his hand. 

“Can you help me?” Azriel asked firmly, taking her by the hand before she could say anything. He tugged her behind him, while Fenris frowned and mouthed ‘I’ll be right here’. Piglet was going nuts again, unhappy that Elain was with Azriel–barking and screaming and snapping and huffing. Fenris cradled him in his arms, rocking him, murmuring to him, as he shielded him from seeing how Azriel pulled Elain with him. Feyre was attempting to calm Piglet down with cheese and bread. Cassian, meanwhile, went to fetch an attendant to clean up the mess on the floor. Nesta was sitting at the table, drinking vodka on the rocks with extra olives, and shaking her head. 

The bridal party was still not here. Probably for the best. 

-

Azriel half dragged Elain into the antechamber reserved for the bridal guests, but seeing as it was empty right now, he closed the door and walked to the adjoining powder room. Elain stood in the middle of the room, looking a little lost and more than apprehensive.

“I can ask Cassian to,” she began saying, but Azriel shook his head stubbornly and ordered, “come here, Elain. Now.”

She picked up her skirt and wet her lower lip nervously, before walking to the powder room.

He had his suit jacket off, and the sleeves of his expensive white shirt rolled up to the elbows–his veined tattooed arms and the network of scars were all on full display and Elain swallowed loudly, still consumed by the need to be touched by those hands and be held within those arms. The white material of the shirt stretched nicely around his massive shoulders and the bulging biceps, and she needed to force herself to look somewhere else, because this was torturous–the close proximity, the scent of him, the sudden realisation that he was next to once again. She had tried to forget how it felt to be near him, tried for almost two months now, but just like that, it all flew out the window. All of her good intentions, because once again, she was next to him and he made her head swim.

Trying to find something to do with her hands, she grabbed a towel and ran it under some cool water. Piglet’s gotten carried away–there was a deep cut from the claws on Azriel’s left arm, and a whole slew of bites on his right.

“I should sue you,” he told her, without humour. “That little fucker needs to be muzzled.”

Elain bristled at his words, but didn’t say anything and only wiped the blood off his left arm. He winced and muttered, “you can’t bring a wild animal to social outings.”

“He is not a wild animal!” she snapped at him. 

He showed her both of his arms and said, “he absolutely is.”

“He was upset with you!” she defended the dog. “Also, he is a pug. I think you’ll survive.”

He looked her up and down, scrubbing his hands and blotting them with paper towels.

“Yeah, I’ll survive,” he scowled. “If he wasn’t a pug, I’d beat his arse.”

Azriel dipped his arms under the faucet once more and then wrapped them with the remaining towels.

“Do I need a rabies shot?” he asked, pressing the towels to his forearms to stem the flow of blood. “This place looks like a murder scene now,” he shook his head.

“No, you don’t need a rabies shot,” she rolled her eyes, and he snorted at her, muttering ‘always with the attitude,”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I am going to go,” she turned on her heels, annoyed at his attitude, but before she could get away, he clamped his hand on her shoulder and squeezed hard enough to make her stop. Then he spun her around, so she was facing him. 

His expression was closed off and very stony, as he assessed her gown and her general appearance. 

Elain couldn’t help but blush under his scrutiny and squirmed on her toes. 

“What do you want?” she asked nervously. “Your arms will heal.”

Azriel didn’t bother answering, and instead, his hands landed on her shoulders and he drew his thumbs over her protruding collar bones. He looked unamused and said,

“You are too thin. Are you not eating?”

Elain glanced up at him in confusion. 

His tone was…concerned. As if he cared about her. Which made little sense. 

His thumbs kept brushing over her chest, her neck, and then he leaned in and smelled her hair, pressing his cheek to her satin ribbon for a moment. 

“I am fine,” she said abruptly. “I am eating.”

“You are lying,”

“I am not. Besides, it’s none of your business,” she reminded him. “You are a client. I don’t report my eating habits to my clients. Soon to be an ex-client too.”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I guess I’ve gone through some hard times lately.”

“Did you now?” his hand tightened on her shoulder, and he pulled her even closer.

“I have.”

“Didn’t stop you from finding yourself another man in a month or so,” he commented coldly.

She tried to throw his hand off, but it was no use. He gripped her tightly and then pressed on her shoulder, digging his strong fingers into her flesh.

“Did you fuck him?” he snapped, his expression tight, his amber eyes glowing with a violent, unhinged need.

Elain started and dropped her hand from his arm.

“What?” she whispered.

“Did you fuck him?” he repeated dryly. “Are you fucking him?”

She bristled at his tone and stepped back, but he caught her wrist in his fingers and pulled her closer. His scarred hand cupped her cheek and he brushed his thumb over her throat, staring at her unblinking.

“Why are you asking me this?” she demanded, feeling her skin warm up under his scrutiny. “It’s none of your business!” 

He raised his brow and glowered at her, tension coming off him in waves. His thumb pressed deeper into her neck, pushing on the vein. She wondered if she’d have a bruise after this. 

“None of my business?” he challenged menacingly, that dark, deep voice of his sounding threatening. 

Elain attempted to step back away from him yet again. She was reminded of the wild, untamed beast that lived under his skin. The beast hid well enough, but she knew it was always there, raging to get out and smash through everything in its path. This was a boy who grew up on the rougher streets of Tower Hamlets and then in Lewisham and while he managed to exercise extreme self-control most of the time, right now wasn’t one of those times.

He jerked her back towards him and hissed, 

“Don’t act like you are scared of me!”

She swallowed and whispered, “Maybe I am scared of you right now.”

His expression darkened even further, but also seemed pensive–he was waging an internal battle in his own head.

“You know I’d never hurt you,” he pressed, his thumb caressing the skin of her neck, his eyes wild and hungry. “You know I’ll do anything for you,”

She swallowed hard, feeling unbearably hot in her dress, shaky and angry.

“You are getting married!” she snarled at him. “I am here. For your wedding!”

That seemed to deflate him a bit and he sighed, muttering, “So I am”.

“So what do you want from me?!” she exclaimed, trying and failing to extricate herself from his hold. He didn’t let go.

Instead, he told her firmly, “answer the question!”

“I don’t see how that’s you busi-,”

He didn’t let her finish and snarled, “Another man’s dick in my woman’s cunt is my business. Do you understand that? So answer the fucking question, Elain. Did he fuck you? Did you give him what is mine?”

She stared at him in shock, appalled by his questions and the level of vitriol that he was spewing at her. How dare he?!!? He was the one who left her! He was the one who took off with another woman and now he had the audacity to act like a jealous boyfriend? What the hell was wrong with him?!

“Yes,” she snapped. “No.”

“What the fuck kind of answer is ‘yes and no’?”

He squeezed her cheek and made her look at him. “Tell me.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she hated herself for it, but right now, she didn’t even care. She didn’t care that she was weeping, because she was…she was so tired. Just so tired of the endless heartache. Of not being loved. Of being left again and again and again. 

She hung her head low and whispered, “yes, I slept with him”.

Azriel sucked in a breath, his normally tanned face draining of colour and becoming noticeably paler. 

“Why?” he asked dumbly, staring at her. 

“Why did you leave me?” she asked instead, wiping her face, looking up at him.

He dropped her hand, but when she thought that he’d push her away, he didn’t. Instead, he squeezed her face between his hands and stared at her. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked after a long pause.

She was sniffling and whimpering, locked into his gaze, and unable to shake off his grip on her head. 

“Because I am tired.”

“Of what?” he asked gently.

“Of everything. Of you. I am tired of you. And I am tired of not being loved. I am tired of always being everyone’s second choice.”

“You aren’t though,” he argued. “Not mine.”

“You are marrying another woman!” she cried out loudly, seething and angry. “You told me all this…shit! This nonsense! About how much you liked me,” at that, he cocked his head to the side, listening to her. She continued sniping at him angrily, “And you lied to me. The entire time, I was falling in love with you and you…you,” she was panting, breathless and enraged. “You told me you wanted me. You said that I was your one and only. And then you…you…just walked away and left me!”

Azriel’s expression was empty and his gaze stony when he stepped back away from her and crossed his arms on his chest.

“You are stubborn, ungrateful, obstinate, and arrogant,” he told her plainly, his eyes scorching her, as he stared her down. Her mouth opened to a shocked O. She couldn’t even respond to him, to his horrible words, the insults.

“You are,” he continued. “For months I’ve begged for scraps of your attention. I’ve done everything in my power to be gentle with you, be kind, and love you. I cleaned your house, cooked for you, washed your dishes, cared for your dog–all the while you held me at arm’s length. I courted you like a fucking knight or some shit. I respected your wishes and I treated you with kid gloves. I planned your birthday, I showered you with gifts and attention, I decorated your house when you asked me.

“Whenever you needed me, I was there. Any time, any day. So I ask you–what was not enough, Elain??” he pressed. “I need to know. Why was I not enough for you?”

She was sobbing, her thin shoulders shaking, while he waited for her to respond and listened to the pug going crazy behind closed doors, and shouting coming from the guests. Resolutely, he walked to the double doors and locked them. They were not going to be disturbed.

“I..I…never,” she tried to speak, but couldn’t. 

He was watching her with an alarmingly detached coldness. 

“You never?” he repeated. “That’s right, Elain. You never. You never came to me and told me that you loved me. Not until it was too late. You rejected my affection,”

“That’s not true!” she screamed. “I never did that.”

“I asked you to marry me the first time we met,” he reminded her.

She threw her hands up in the air and exclaimed, “I didn’t take that seriously! You were joking,”

“Was I?” he asked grimly.

“We’d just met!” she exclaimed defensively. “You came to me to find a wife!”

“And yet, I wanted you.”

“I didn’t know!” she babbled. “How was I supposed to have known? I didn’t,”

“You did. I asked you every time I saw you,” he insisted. “You just didn’t want to hear it. You took my words in jest, but don’t pretend that it wasn’t there.”

“That's not fair!” she even stomped her foot petulantly. “You aren’t being fair!”

“Life isn’t fucking fair, Elain. I shoved my hand in your cunt and you came all over my first on your birthday,”

She blushed furiously at that, at his vulgarity.

“Yet, the next fucking day, on Christmas Eve, you threw a fit when you saw a silly little thing on my phone. Oh, I had you in my contacts under ‘Mrs. Night’. The horror. The insult!” he mocked, clutching at his chest. “You started a whole fight with me over that one thing. Which, by the way, came about as a result of your snooping,”

She wiped her tears, but didn’t say anything back. It was true. She had overreacted back then. 

“I’d offered you everything,” he recalled. “My name. My devotion. My love. All you needed to do was to accept that you were mine. That you belonged to me. That you were made for me,”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she argued, raising her chin at him defiantly. She was angry with him, and just as angry with herself. 

In one frightening, devastating move–so quick that her eyes didn’t even register what she was seeing–he was on her. He grabbed her by the throat and she gasped in terror, waiting for him to squeeze, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, his jowls working overtime. She trembled next to him, swallowing hard against his huge palm.

He said nothing, just held her by the neck, his eyes so dark, they seemed black. Gone was the warm golden brown of them. Gone was his normally jovial, unbothered attitude. He was always intense, but right now, he was menacing. 

“And that’s the problem, isn’t it, Elain?” he sneered at last. His face was close to hers, and she couldn’t help but smell the familiar scent of his skin, of his Tom Ford cologne, and notice the smattering of dark freckles on his tanned cheeks. He really should use sunblock when he played. Even in Britain. Even under its weak, blurry sun.

“What is?” she finally managed to whisper. Her throat felt restricted against his palm and she swallowed again. Involuntarily, her hands squeezed his wrist and his eyes tracked the movement. 

“Stop”. He barked at her.

“Sto-op what?”

“Stop acting like you are afraid of me!” he hissed.

“I am. I am afraid of you,” she confessed. “You are not like this…”

“And how am I?” he wondered, while making no move to release her. 

“You…you,” she mumbled, blinking at him. “You are nice. You…you are good to me.”

“I was,” he confirmed. “Why should I be good to you now?”

“Why are you putting this on me?” she shouted. “What did I do??”

He sighed and reflected, his tone thoughtful, almost bored.

“What you did…It’s what you didn't do,”

“Which is?!” 

“If only you understood that you belong to me, beautiful, everything would’ve been different. I wouldn’t have needed to take all these…drastic measures,”

“Drastic measures?” she gasped. Marrying someone else was a little more than a ‘drastic measure’. 

“If you only acknowledged one simple fact–that you were mine, that you belong to me and with me. If you would have simply submitted to me and accepted the inevitable then things would’ve been different.”

Elain bristled and lifted her chin again, ignoring his hold on her.

“You are sounding psychotic,” she told him simply.

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But I am telling you how it is.”

She pursed her lips and then managed to push at his chest, trying to dislodge him. He didn’t budge, though now his hold on her throat loosened even more. 

“And yet, all of this love and devotion didn’t stop you from going after another woman,” she rebuked him bitterly. All this ‘you belong to me’ bullshit didn’t stop you from bouncing as soon as you saw an opportunity.”

He let go of her then and walked away, circling the room, his brown knitted, his look tense.

Elain rubbed her throat and winced. He tracked the movement and then stopped his pacing and asked sharply, “are you hurt?”

“I don’t know, Azriel,” she snapped. “You’ve been grabbing at my throat like a caveman since I showed up. I will be bruised, I reckon. Guess I'll consider it your parting gift, huh?”

He waved his hand dismissively, “don’t be dramatic.”

“You are such an arsehole,” she groaned and then turned around and headed for the doors. “Where the hell is your bride? When is this shitshow going to start? Why did you invite us for 11 am, when it’s almost noon and we are nowhere near getting this done.”

“How many times did you fuck him?” he asked instead. 

“Ohmygod, are you back to that?!” she cried, exasperated. “Why do you care?”

“I won’t let anyone touch what’s mine,” “It’s not yours!”

“I beg to differ. So? You are not leaving this fucking room until you tell me,” he warned her.

She sighed and collapsed on a chair–thank god that it was here, because otherwise, she’d just lay on the floor. He was scaring her and exhausting her all at once, and this was promising to be the worst day of her life.

“It’s not what you think it is,” she began and he sighed an annoyed sigh. 

“Great start, Elain,”

She was wringing her fingers, looking down at the floor.

“It’s not new…Fen, that is. We’ve known each other for many years. He isn’t my boyfriend,”

Azriel stared at her, looking for any sign of a lie. 

“I am sure there is more to this,” he prompted patiently.

“I lost my virginity to him,” she told him softly “We dated when we were younger. He is a good man.”

Azriel licked his lips and thought.

“So you brought him here to make me jealous?” he pondered.

“No,” she argued defensively. “I did not want to come alone. And why would you care anyway?”

“Don’t be daft,” he said sternly. “We’ll discuss all of this later.”

Elain sighed. What was there to discuss exactly?

“Can we go back to the guests?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head and said ‘no’. 

“When is Gwyn arriving?” Elain pressed. “I don’t want to be here with you when she arrives.”

He bubbled his lips and muttered, “soon. Soon enough.”

She wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but she didn’t ask. He was already acting strange. She didn’t want to push him further. She understood that there was some internal conflict related to her that he was fighting, but also, it was his wedding day and he was bound to be jittery.

What she didn’t expect were his next words.

“I need to kiss you,” he said, flexing his fingers at his sides. 

“What? No!”

“I said I want to kiss you,” he repeated, coming closer. 

Elain’s  breathing turned fast and jerky, and he could see her pulse through her pale skin. 

“I can’t,” she shook her head. “You are marrying someone else. What are you doing?!” her hands pressed to her chest in a futile attempt to keep him at bay.

He stood over her and then stooped and pressed his hands over the back of the chair, caging her in. 

“You will still deny me?” he questioned, raising his brow at her.

“I am not,” she muttered desperately. “But…but,” she licked her lips, “you aren’t available,”

“Kiss me,” he ordered, and leaned closer, his breath fanning over her face, his hands still squeezing the back of the chair. “I want you to submit to me and kiss me.”

She blinked at him, her expression confused and panicked. 

“Kiss me like you love me,” he urged. 

“I…what…” she kept mumbling, looking around for a way to escape, and knowing there wasn't any. “Why?”

“Because I asked you to,” he said calmly, though his ‘calm’ was somehow terrifying. “And I asked nicely.”

“And if I say ‘no’?” she reached up and timidly touched the back of his neck, feeling how warm his skin was.

“Then I will be forced to take it,” he shrugged. “And you might not like it.”

Elain did not doubt him. Azriel was the type to take what he wanted from her. He always tittered on the edge of consent and force, and it seemed to her that ‘consent’ was more of a modern trapping to him rather than an obligation. This was the same man who made himself comfortable in her house, then in her bed, who’d basically moved into her home without her inviting him, who’d put her on his lap or slapped her ass whenever he felt like it. He didn’t hesitate to tell her what to do and where they’d be going, and took the reins whether she asked him or not. 

“Elain,” he said sternly. “I am waiting.”

She pressed her thighs together under her long skirt, overwhelmed by his closeness and his demand. He watched her carefully, studying her reactions, the muscles under his shirt flexing and rolling beneath the material.

“Come on, beautiful,” he coaxed slowly and warmly, leaning even closer to her. “Give it to me.”

Somehow Elain knew that she wasn’t going to get out of this and frankly, this was on him. He was the one getting married. She wasn’t his moral police–if he wanted to be unfaithful to Gwyn it was up to him. He was a player, after all, and she supposed that this is what it looked like in real time. She was just too stupid to realise before that he wouldn’t have been faithful to her either. 

She pulled her head to her and pressed her lips to his.

It wasn’t a sensual kiss. 

It was angry.

Azriel pulled back away from her quickly and she thought that it was over. She exhaled a ragged breath.

He looked at her, head cocked, and then suddenly kissed her nose lightly. It was gentle. Playful.

Then his hand shot up and he pressed his thumb to her mouth, running it slowly over her lower lip, feeling it up, reminding her with his touch of how she used to kiss his fingers and his scarred hands. How she called them beautiful.

Without warning, he pushed his thumb between her lips, deeper than she even expected and she sucked on it nervously, her tongue wrapping around the digit. He smiled, watching her.

“Good girl,” he praised, rubbing his thumb against her tongue. “This isn’t very difficult, is it?”

She couldn't answer, her mouth being fully occupied, as she sucked and licked him, but it felt normal. It felt normal to offer him pleasure. Familiar even. She liked pleasing him. Always have. 

She nodded. No, it wasn’t difficult.

With his thumb still inside her mouth, he leaned in and kissed her. 

She paused, but he pushed his finger over her tongue, urging her to continue, while his warm, full lips languidly sucked on her own. He smelled good and tasted the way she remembered, and the way she loved. The kiss was hungry and possessive, and he kissed the way she loved being kissed. She forgot everything for a few blissful moments, when her fingers slipped from his neck and squeezed his obscenely firm biceps, luxuriating in the solid mass of his body. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured into her mouth. She tilted her head back, allowing him better access, and he fell into the kiss with rabid determination, eliciting a breathless whine from her full lips. His tongue met hers, overtaking it at once, and unbothered by the presence of his finger. He licked on her slowly, but thoroughly, bruising her lips with how hard he sucked and tugged on them and not feeling the littlest bit of shame. 

“Gorgeous,” he repeated, “but fucking stupid.”

Elain gasped and pulled back, her eyes opening up. She pushed his thumb out forcefully with her tongue and panted, looking at him.

He straightened and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Why am I stupid?” she challenged. 

“I don’t know,��� she crossed his arms and propped himself against the wall. “You are posh. Probably makes you naive. To a stupid degree.”

“I am not naive,” she argued.

“No, you really are. Like you don’t see anything that’s in front of your eyes.”

“And what’s in front of my eyes?” 

Azriel rubbed his chin and instead of answering, he suddenly said,

“Do you know how difficult it is to find someone who looks like you in porn?”

Elain was pretty sure that it was a rhetorical question, even if she didn’t understand it.

What, she mouthed, utterly confused by this new, odd revelation. Her lips were still tingling from his kiss. She was hot. She hoped someone had some deodorant. 

“Took me weeks of scrolling on PornHub,” he continued, and she wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or to himself. “I tried and I tried to find something suitable. But how do you search for a posh bird on PornHub, who looks like you and would get all her holes filled?”

“Azriel…” she murmured, blushing violently. “Don’t say things like that…”

“I mean, I watched a lot of porn to finally land on a girl who resembled you. My dick was chafed,”

“Azriel!”

“After all that, all I could come up with was one scene. One. I jacked off to that scene for weeks. She did look like you–not in your fancy fucking way–but she had the same pink tits and the shape of the body was similar. Your big long hair. 

“She was a lot more submissive than you,” he added. “But that could be worked on, right?”

“I think you are rambling,” she rose from her chair and smoothed down her gown. “And I think I am done with you.”

“Oh no, Elain,” he smiled a cruel smile. “You aren’t done with me. Because I am not done with you.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugged and headed for the door.

Then she overheard his sneer,

“Still stupid. Even now.”

She turned around swiftly and shouted, “What the hell?! Stop calling me stupid! I am not!”

“You are,” he said flatly. “You are. Because you never realised that all of it was a lie.”

[ilikekidsshows]

In retrospect do you think there were any major red flags in writing up to the S3 finale of ML that foreshadowed its downfall in future seasons or do you think it all started in what you call the retool era (S4&5).

I’d say we’re dealing with a lot of “recurring issues” and some actual red flags. As I’ve stated repeatedly, the New York Special basically has the same Ladynoir break up and get back together plot as season four, and it was bad in the New York Special and absolutely horrid in season four. Also, the show’s worst episodes, ‘Reflekdoll’ and ‘Kwamibuster’ reflect a lot of the writers’ more asinine writing decisions in the future. The New York Special and some season three episodes are, therefore, definitive red flags.

But yeah, the earlier seasons had some warning signs too. Adrien/Cat Noir is presented first and foremost as a lust object of Marinette’s. We don’t see Marinette appreciating Adrien as a person until ‘Origins’; before that point she’s only literally staring slack-jawed and drooling at Adrien’s photoshoots and ads. Marinette is also destructively jealous of Adrien from the point Lila is introduced, and she only escalates with the introduction of Kagami. Marinette’s objectification of Adrien has been in the show since its inception, considering that the original Adrien, thePV Félix, is presented in promotional materials as sullen, rude and unpleasant, meaning Marinette’s infatuation was most likely purely based on his looks. So, like, the sexism of heterosexual romance but the genders are just reversed is part of the show’s DNA.

Another important thing to note about the series is that our only Adrien-focused episodes, that focus on Adrien having some kind of a development arc with his feelings where he gets to be proactive about them instead of the show just showing the audience “oh, he’s upset now” or “oh, he’s happy now” and don’t still give Marinette a lion’s share of the focus and emotional weight, are ‘Copycat’ and ‘Santa Claws’, maybe arguably ‘Gorizilla’, though I suspect the Marinette trying to score a date segment takes up far more time than the important reveal of Adrien’s family problems. The writers have always prioritized Marinette’s feelings over Adrien’s.

Adrien’s contributions on the superhero side of things have also been getting downplayed since the start. He’s the more likely target of slapstick, with the show pilot ‘Stormy Weather’ having him get treated like a ping pong ball. He’s the one getting brainwashed or taken out by the Akumas frequently. And he’s the one the heroes’ shared mentor ignores completely. In ‘Syren’, Fu had to be strongarmed into meeting Adrien once, and then he never made an effort again. This is also the episode where the idea that Adrien shouldn’t complain about being treated as less than and should just patiently wait for whatever scraps he gets as a member of a team is first introduced. However, this episode was easily overlooked at the time, because the episode, in the end, had Fu meeting with Adrien, seemingly setting up Adrien being treated more equally, a promise that was never followed up on.

Now, though, I’d like to say why these things went unnoticed as red flags and just being some recurring issues. The thing about Adrien’s objectification was this: the people watching thought it was a joke and a sign of Marinette’s immaturity. It was presented humorously, and Marinette started being less creepy at Adrien once she became more able to talk to him. This, coupled with other lessons Marinette had about clear communication with her loved ones, like ‘Weredad’ and ‘Befana’, made people believe Marinette was going to have a character arc to grow into a more mature person who’s able to treat Adrien like a human being. This is another promise the writers never followed up on when they then retconned Adrien into a RealDoll and made him Marinette’s therapist to make sure Marinette never has to treat Adrien normally.

As for the lack of Adrien focus, the reason it went unnoticed was actually the lesser focus on other heroes, and the deeper emphasis on the superhero action than in S4-5. There were less heroes and more time spent on Akuma fights, which meant more screen time for Adrien as Cat Noir at least. When Cat Noir is the primary character Ladybug can interact with, he gets to give plenty of input on things and when he’s Ladybug’s only backup, he gets to do more things in battles. And then we add to that the bigger time the earlier seasons spent on Akuma fights, we get more of both of those things. It’s simple math. So, while Adrien didn’t get to contribute decisively a lot, he did get to contribute. Also, they had this thing where Adrien’s eclectic studies would be used to have Cat Noir give Ladybug highly specific but useful information.

Basically, yeah, there were some red flags and other lesser but still worrying stuff too.

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Dulyamra

Odd one this week, and an entry that is... moderately identifiable? but also confusingly hostile. So let's just get into it. Anyone who's not sure what this post is can see https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting for an explanation and previous entries in this series.

The bestiary entry that people were working from can be found here:

And if you want to join in and draw some kind of Creature for the next one, the entry people are working from currently can be found here:

Art below the cut.

@ectocs (link to post here) was the first to post this week -- and this is their first time contributing to this! Welcome! We've got a bear-like critter here, and the weird puffy face is not unlike a mandrill, which makes sense. I think the threatening facial expression on this one is done well -- as are the clearly worried expressions on the juveniles. There's some interesting material explaining design decisions and a couple sketches in the linked post, which I recommend y'all go check out.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) joined... most of us, actually... in being very puzzled by the bestiary's insistence that this is a Foul Beast. We get a sloth-inspired critter here, because famously sloths have a whole algae ecosystem in their fur, and some closed-minded folks may consider this foul. There's additional explanation in the linked post, including the note that Silverhart has given this creature anteater-style coloration because anteaters are related to sloths -- which I did not know previously, but now that I think about it, does make sense.

@pomrania (link to post here) decided that this creature should be a cynocephalus, but one with a red butt like a baboon to support the author's assertion that the rear is "disgusting and horrid". Honestly that makes a lot of sense with the entry, and it's always good to see cynocephali get more attention. Good direction to go. However, that butt is also unsettling for me, so I'm scrolling down to the next one now.

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) made the observation that a brachycephalic dog -- such as a pug -- has a creased face that many would consider hideous (or at least unethical) and ran with it. I like this interpretation a lot, and I really appreciate the coloration of the night-time scene here.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) really went hard on designing a creature that could be described as foul and hideous -- successfully, I think, because I don't think I'd want to be around this thing. The head close-up is, I think, a well-executed design for a rather frightening creature; and, of course, the overall beast here is something CheapSweets themself describes as "a semi-naked bear with a fat butt," which I think is something I'd rather keep my distance from. (Also, thank you for including alt text.)

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) took this in an interesting direction. (I always enjoy it when someone decides to make one of these an invertebrate, because it usually takes some creativity to justify it.) Anyway, here we have a hermit crab, which of course has arms in the form of claws, and can conveniently hide its "disgusting and horrid" rear end in a shell. As usual, the stylization is delightful -- I like the humanoid eyes on the crab and just everything going on with the moon.

On to the Aberdeen Bestiary.

Yeah, this is pretty evidently some sort of ape. I'm not sure which one, but the bestiary author isn't either -- it just says "ape".

I don't know exactly what the medievals had against apes; in the most recent episode of the podcast, we heard a medieval fable where someone referred to them as "abominable" as though that was settled fact. I'd say it's a lack of familiarity, but also those are pretty solid illustrations of apes, so clearly they had some idea what they looked like. (One of our illustrators this week noted that they find some primates a bit uncanny-valley, so maybe that's it -- apes are just too close to human without being human, and that makes some people uncomfortable.)

Anyway, we've got some neat sequential art here. Here is a hunter with a spear. Here is an ape at rest. Here is the ape getting up and escaping from the hunter. That's cool.

I don't really have anything else to add here. Apes.

EDIT:

Thought of something to end with.

... no, that's nothing. Still leaving it there.

[vera-deville]

Going through a pretty horrid breakup atm, let's just say the guy I was with for six weeks left me then got with another immediately a week after. With me finding out through an outside source as he blocked me everywhere. So I was wondering if uhh, I could get sum fluff with Malleus and GN reader. Just need smth w one of my favs to add to my 'Gettin over this bitch' Playlist LMAO. Just something light-hearted and fun after gettin'over some kinda hardship. Like smth happened that has the reader in an upset mood and Mal gives some ✨sage advice✨ in his own way (we know how he is) or sum shi. Preferably romantic but platonic works too

Gahhh, not sure I did this right, I'm requesting this whilst half asleep lmao.

-🐅

The Sagely Advice of a Dragon Fae

05/31/2024 - 07/09/2024

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Reader (you can think of the interactions as romantic or platonic) Word Count: 1,045 Warnings: Reader's just having a bad day, lowkey a crack fic- Gender: Gender Neutral Tags: @rose-the-witch1, @viviennevermillion (let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist, and which characters you'd like to be added for)! Notes: I'm really sorry to hear about what you're going through 🐅 anon! I wrote this in such a way that it could be read as platonic or romantic. I wasn't sure if you wanted the hardship in the story to be a breakup or not, but I ended up making it a break up. I also apologize so much for taking so long to complete your request! And don't worry, you requested perfectly!

In which you are dealing with a break up and a particular dragon fae has words of wisdom for you.

Sometimes, you just wanted to hurl an asteroid at life.

Not that it would cause much damage (if at all any), but it's the thought that counts, right?

Brooding over your life seemed to be something you were doing more often now, and frankly speaking, it was getting on your nerves. Everything around you seemed to either contribute to your irritation or remind you of something - contributing to your irritation nonetheless.

Another overblot had passed over, not unlike a raging storm, and by this point, you were so used to them that you were simply biding your time for the next one. Crowley seemed more annoying than ever, what with his near constant spur of the moment vacations, and who else better than the magicless Prefect of Ramshackle to clean up after his messes? Oh and you got dumped. The best part of it? You only found out through Cater since you had been blocked by the guy you were with.

With everything just piling up on top of each other, you could feel yourself gradually losing your sanity and right about now, you could use one of Crowley's vacations for yourself.

Your friends were helpful, but it didn't change the humiliation you felt when they found out - and that too, before you. You knew they didn't think anything less of you. If anything, they were worried and constantly wary of your feelings, waiting as though you were a ticking time bomb. And yet, you couldn't help but continue to feel the humiliation. Except now, it was coupled with the pitying looks and actions of those around you.

And that's how you ended up at the rundown gardens of Ramshackle. Truly, the place lived up to its name. The marble benches had clearly seen better days, but in a way, there was a decrepit beauty to your dorm. Vines grew like curly hair, tangling and winding and unravelling a certain way.

You had been following up with Crowley regarding funds to renovate Ramshackle. Of course, he originally had told you to pay out of your pocket. And of course, you'd successfully presented (and won) your claim that Ramshackle is a Night Raven College dorm - meaning the money had to come out of his.

The actual renovation plans were still being...well, planned.

But in the quiet of your beloved Ramshackle, accompanied by no other than your thoughts, you could imagine the transformations the dorm could go through.

"Ahem."

So much for not being accompanied by anyone else but your thoughts.

You turn, a sinewy shadow stepping clear into your vision.

"Hello Tsunotarou."

"Hello Child of Man."

Malleus looked dapper as ever. Standing tall and proud, shoulders rolled back, hair framing his face ever so perfectly, you couldn't help but wonder if this fae ever had a bad day in his life. Surely he had his own fair share of woes?

"What are you doing here tonight? If you're free, you should reflect on things with me." He asks in that curious manner of his.

"It seems all I've been doing as of late is reflect Tsunotarou." You chide, knowing that Malleus knew nothing about your latest predicaments. "Allow me to ask you a question."

"A question for me? Alright, ask me anything."

"Why is life so unfair?"

Malleus expected this question. He had heard...whispers around the campus and it seemed that Lilia of the ailments that plagued the Ramshackle Prefect's mind (though of course he wouldn't tell him exactly what exactly pervaded over your psyche).

"Human lives are already so minute, so why waste time contemplating things of insignificance?"

You take a moment to ponder his words. Insignificant? Was the love you felt truly insignificant? Or is it the time you spent yearning over someone who couldn't even tell you to your face that they didn't feel the same? Or perhaps it's the fact that you have spent all this time moping around instead of doing something else with all that time and energy?

Malleus was right.

It really was insignificant.

"I know not of what matters plague your mind, but I know that humankind are vastly different from fae. I merely said to not waste your time on matters of insignificance. That does not include matters of the heart."

You scrunch your nose at that.

Malleus was starting to sound like all your other friends, and regardless of whether they were correct or not, the rut you found yourself in made you numb to his words. "How would you know about the ways I find to waste my time?" You ask bitterly.

"Then don't waste it."

Well that was blunt.

You didn't really know how to respond to that.

"If you believe that you are wasting your time, then simply turn your focus to something else. From my perspective, human life seems far too short to accomplish anything. On the surface, you waste your life as is, so why not waste your time doing something you love?"

You didn't really know whether to be offended or grateful for the advice.

It made sense though. You were wasting your time brooding over someone, so why not do something else with the limited time you had?

"You know what Malleus? I think you're right. What do you suggest I waste my time on then?" You see the smirk that adorns his face after you ask this and immediately realize what was about to suggest to you. "No gargoyles right now, please."

All of a sudden the smirk vanished into a pout - one you were keen on not falling for.

"Very well then Child of Man. Perhaps you would be inclined to learning archery?"

You look at him befuddled. "Archery!? I don't even know how to shoot an arrow Malleus!"

"Hence why I said learn."

He had you there.

"Even so, where would we even get bows and arrows from-"

"Right here." Malleus said as he magicked two pairs of bows and a bunch of arrows out of nowhere. "You now live in a world of magic, remember?"

He had you there too.

"And before you ask what we will use as our targets..."

You watch as he magicked boards. A whole bunch of them, all around the two of you.

"Very well then Tsunotarou. Lead the way!"

Author's Note: Again, I am really sorry about how long this took to finish. Unfortunately, I got swamped with stuff, and there just doesn't seem to be an end to it all. I wanted to make this fic a lot longer, but then decided on something a little more quaint. I also included some of Malleus' voice lines from the game throughout the fic as fun little Easter eggs. Masterlist

[memescomicswriting]

Sneak Peek Sunday

It's Nice to Have A Friend Ch 5: My Heart, My Hips, My Body, My Love

A/N: Welcome to Sneak Peek Sunday! Every Sunday I'll update the Sneak Peak with an excerpt from next Thursday's chapter. I hope you enjoy the teaser!

Series Masterlist

Y/N made it to the clearing earlier than most party goers. Her intent was to arrive before Aemond and Jace, and help set up. This was for them and they shouldn’t be responsible for preparation. 

In a refrigerated bag, Y/N carried a few handles of liquor and litters of mixers. There never came a time where they had to ration booze, but if you wanted something specific, you had to bring it. She left her contribution on the empty kegs turned tables from years prior. Graduation years were spray painted across each one. They went back decades. 

Y/N planned to start directing drink set up when she caught the familiar sight of long silver hair on a masculine form. Aemond was crouched on one knee next to the firepit looking like he wanted to start it.

“You shouldn’t be setting up. This party is for the graduates. That includes you.” Y/N’s announcement startled Aemond, though to the untrained eye, he hadn’t reacted at all. Y/N knew his tells, but she knew better than to tease him. He’d be in a sour mood for the rest of the night.

A faint frown draped over Aemond. Part of him knew she’d gotten to him. He also hated Y/N seeing him struggle, and starting this fire wasn’t easy. “Well since it’s a party for me, I had to make sure it was done right.” 

“Control freak.” Y/N rolled her eyes and smirked knowingly. Before joining Aemond on ground level, she rearranged the firewood so air could better circulate and feed the flames.

Aemond scoffed, though he was slightly amused. “Says the girl literally taking control.”

Y/N kneeled down and claimed his tools. She worked, engaging in his obvious desire to spar. “Aemond, your talent surpasses others in many things. Lighting a fire, I fear is not one of them.”

She stroked his ego while taunting him. His favorite flavor of fun. “And yet the heiress knows how.”

“Huh,” It was a dry and dark utterance from Y/N. “With my history, yeah.”

That was the nail in the coffin to any quips Aemond could retort. How do you win an argument when the trauma card is played. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, I took it there.”

“Are you… okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed and relaxed back onto the forest floor with a plop. She crossed her legs and left her now free hands in her lap. “I just…wanted to understand it. The ways to start it, manage it, end it.”

Aemond nodded in consideration and focused on the unlit logs. “I can see why.”

“I know it’s fucked up.” Y/N continued and refused to look up from her hands and the lighter in them. “But sometimes I wonder what they went through.”

Y/N sparked the lighter and orbited her hand around the flame. Her fingers danced nearer and then distanced from the light like she dared it to grow and claim her too. “What did they feel last? Was it the burns? Or the smoke that did them in. Like if I know the feeling, I could go back and stop it all together.”

Aemond wasn’t skilled in comfort. He sharpened his tongue long ago and dulling the edge with sweetnesses was a difficult act. He tried the best he could, sharing what he knew. “Our ancestors used fire as a tool of divination and sorcery.”

She scoffed at his ridiculous connection. “And it only brought death and destruction to their enemies and to them.”

Aemond shrugged. Regardless of feelings, it was their legacy and legacy was everything to Aemond. “It gave us what we have now.”

Her hard focus snapped to him. Defiance and a tad of horror lived within her gaze; though her words sounded like a caress. “Was it worth it?” He blinked and withdrew in slight intimidation. She spoke of how horrid fire and flame were, yet here he felt their heat radiate off of her. “The histories say they used dark magics to inject fire into their blood and the blood of their decsendents.”

“Perhaps that’s why you’re always so hot headed.” Y/N mumbled.

His immediate reaction was a sharp laugh. “Very clever.”

Y/N side eyed Aemond with a sleek smirk. “I have to be, to keep up with you.” The lighter sparked a piece of kindling. She tossed it into the larger pile beneath the main wood. Then she earnestly addressed him. “Now, the question is, can you keep up with me?” The pair shared an understanding smile.

A/N: Buckle up buttercups, this chapter is a wild one. It may even contain something spicy...

[griseldabanks]

Maybelle and the Beast

My contribution to the @inklings-challenge Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge. This was my back-up idea for last year, so I was excited to have an excuse to finally write it out! Beauty and the Beast is my favorite fairy tale, and I have a feeling I may revisit this particular version again in the future, because I could definitely turn this into a novel ;) I'll admit to taking a lot of inspiration from Robin McKinley's retellings of this fairy tale.

Maybelle stared at the tall, imposing mahogany door. She felt just as reluctant to open it as if it had been the barred portal to a dungeon—like the cold stone chamber she'd explored early on in her stay here, which she expected had been a dungeon once but was now a wine cellar.

More to stall for time than anything else, Maybelle brushed off her rust red skirt and straightened her collar. It was a nervous habit, but in a way it also served to remind her of why she was here, because of who had given her these clothes. Days, weeks, months in this huge, empty mansion, alone except for one companion. The companion who had slammed this very door not half an hour ago.

Taking a deep breath, Maybelle knocked firmly on the door.

“Go 'way,” a muffled voice growled out to her.

Letting out her breath again in an impatient huff, Maybelle crossed her arms. “Are you still sulking, Agnes?”

“I am not sulking,” the voice insisted sulkily.

“Right. You're lying in bed at three in the afternoon, glaring a hole in the ceiling, for your health.”

After a heavy silence, a loud click told her the key had turned in the hole. Taking that as an invitation, Maybelle opened the door and stepped inside.

The heavy drapes had been pulled closed, leaving the bedroom in a stuffy half-light. The only illumination came from the embers of the fire dying in the fireplace. She could barely even make out the silhouette of a large bulk lying in the huge four-poster. It was like stepping into a sickroom.

Rolling her eyes at the drama of it all, Maybelle closed the door with a snap and made a beeline for the window closest to the fireplace. She pulled the curtains aside, letting a band of lazy afternoon sunlight stretch across the carpet, revealing the twisting patterns of vines and roses. After a moment's consideration, Maybelle decided not to open the curtains of the other window nearest the bed. Best not to annoy Agnes any further with a sunbeam in her eyes. She would probably just wave her hand and make the curtains close, then stick together so Maybelle couldn't open them again. Instead, Maybelle contented herself with throwing the window open and letting in the delicious scents of flowers and the buzzing of bees from the gardens.

“There,” she said, drawing in a deep breath of the fresh smell of spring. “Much better.”

With a grunt, the huge lump on the bed rolled over.

Maybelle walked up to the foot of the bed and stood there with her hands on her hips, just waiting. How strange, to remember how frightened she had been the first time she'd ventured into this room. Or how her knees had nearly given out the first time she'd dared to meet the gaze of the terrible Beast who was to be her captor.

It had been months since she'd ceased to be the Beast, and became instead...simply Agnes.

“Well?” Maybelle said, when it became clear Agnes wasn't about to break the silence. “Aren't we going to at least talk about this?”

The long tail lying on top of the blue bedspread flicked irritably, like a huge cat's. “What's to talk about?” Agnes retorted, her voice grumbling like a motorcar in her massive chest. “Clearly, you don't care what happens to me, as long as you get to go have fun without me.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, Maybelle sent up a silent prayer for patience. “Well, for starters,” she said, her voice coming out more sharply than she'd intended, “you called me an awful lot of horrid names, and I thought perhaps you might want to apologize.”

A long, pregnant pause. Finally, with a long-suffering groan from the bed, Agnes rolled over onto her back, her arms tucked up against her chest almost like a dog waiting for a belly rub. The long, black skirt did little to hide her bowed legs ending in sharp claws, and from this angle, her long saber teeth and curled goat-like horns were no longer hidden in her mountain of pillows.

Agnes sighed in resignation. “Sorry for calling you a selfish, bird-brained floozy.”

Maybelle nodded. “Apology accepted. And...I'm sorry too. For calling you a heartless, hairy pig.”

Their eyes met across the room. Agnes let out a snort, followed by a loud guffaw, and suddenly Maybelle found herself laughing as well. The tight coil of anger and bitterness loosened in her chest as she tipped her head back and let her higher-pitched laughter harmonize with Agnes' deep, hefty chuckles.

Still giggling, Maybelle crossed over and flopped onto the huge bed beside Agnes. She felt so tiny in this bed, like a doll. And yet, even though she was sure Agnes could snap her like a twig if she so desired, Maybelle didn't feel a shred of fear to lie a mere foot away from her.

For a couple minutes, they merely lay there, staring up into the canopy over the four-poster. Maybelle had just realized the stars embroidered there formed constellations and was looking for Orion when Agnes broke the silence.

“You were right, you know.” Her voice was a low, sad rumble like a locomotive rushing past in the night. “I am a pig.”

“Oh, no!” Maybelle raised herself on one elbow, looking over in alarm. “Please, forget those awful things I said. It was very wrong of me to call you that.”

Agnes turned her head aside, but Maybelle thought she caught the sight of a tear glistening in one eye. “You were only speaking the truth. Like you always do. I am heartless. Because I care more about not being alone than I do about you getting a chance to see your family. Even when all you ask is to go to your sister's wedding...I'm too selfish to let you go.”

Slowly, Maybelle lowered herself to her pillow again. She wasn't quite sure what to say, so she spoke slowly, picking her words carefully. “I wasn't thinking of you either. I'm sorry, Agnes. I know...I mean, I can imagine how lonely it must get here, in this huge mansion all alone. But it would only be for the weekend. Just enough to meet Edward and see Adeline off. I'd be back before you could miss me too much.”

“You...would come back?”

Agnes' voice sounded so hesitant and tremulous, Maybelle looked over in surprise, but she couldn't make out her friend's expression past the horn and the unruly mane of hair. “Of course I'll come back. That's part of the deal.”

The silence seemed to congeal between them. Neither of them had mentioned the deal Agnes and Maybelle's father had worked out, not since...Maybelle couldn't even remember. During the past several months, it had become easy to forget how all of this began. When Maybelle had first arrived at the mansion, she'd shut thoughts of home out of her mind as much as possible, to make her dreadful fate a little more bearable. If she weren't constantly thinking of the little cottage or trying to imagine what her father and sisters were up to, perhaps she could carve a small measure of contentment out of her exile. It was a small price to pay for her father's life, after all.

But it had been months since Maybelle had seriously believed that Agnes would have eaten her father. Not after she'd seen the delicate way Agnes handled the gardening tools when she tended to her enchanted rose bushes. Not after the way she'd cradled that finch's body in her enormous hands, huge tears rolling down her hairy face as she muttered spell after spell that fizzled out, unable to bring the tiny animal back to life.

Not after scores upon scores of cozy evenings by the fire, laughing together as Maybelle tried to teach Agnes how to knit with two iron pokers, or taking turns reading from one of the books in the huge library.

For the first time, Maybelle tried to imagine what life must have been like for Agnes in all the years before her father had shown up on the doorstep. Sitting alone in front of a guttering fire. Pacing the dark, dusty hallways, with nothing to hear but the echoes of her own footsteps. Wandering the grounds, able to turn the seasons at a word and the weather at a glance, but with nothing but the birds and bees to listen to her words. A library that magically seemed to provide exactly the book she wanted to read, but all the stories of friendship and adventure only serving to mock her solitude.

“I promise I'll come back,” Maybelle said firmly. “Deal or no deal. I won't leave you alone forever.”

A strange, strangled sound escaped Agnes, quickly disguised in a clearing of her throat. “Well,” she said gruffly, “good. But if you don't come back in three days, I'll die.”

Maybelle rolled her eyes. Always so dramatic.

-----

It was raining when Maybelle returned to the mansion. Since it was midsummer out in the rest of the world, she hadn't thought to pack a coat, so she just ducked her head and hurried up the gravel walk to the great front doors. This wasn't a summer rain, either; the chilly breeze cut right through the thin sleeves of the flower-patterned dress Violette had made for her.

The front doors seemed heavier than usual. Normally, they swung open at the first touch of her hand, but this time Maybelle had to throw her shoulder against one to open it. Perhaps Agnes had left a window open somewhere and there was a draft. Though that seemed strange; surely Agnes would have either closed the window or shifted the weather instead of letting all this cold rain blow in.

Maybelle turned back to glance out the door. It looked like Agnes had fully committed to a dreary late November today. The bare branches of the trees clacked together while the wind howled through them, cold raindrops splashing in puddles that turned the walkways to mud. It made her wonder if the rain had kept up the whole time she'd been away.

Shivering, Maybelle heaved the front door closed again, picked up her bag, and started towards the stairs. “Agnes!” she called, her voice echoing around the huge entryway. “I'm home!”

She was halfway up the stairs, struggling with her free hand to unpin her hair and wring out some of the water, when she realized the lamps were dark. Her feet slowed to a stop in the lush carpeting, and she frowned up at the huge chandelier that hung over the open space. Every time she'd set foot in this hall—or anywhere else in the house, for that matter—candles lit themselves and lamps burst to life. At first, she'd found it frightening, especially when she would walk down a long, straight corridor with the candles flaring up in front of her and winking out behind her, leaving her in a bubble of illumination.

But after all these months, she'd grown used to such things. Doors opening at a touch, lamps lighting on their own, plates of food and cups of tea appearing on tables right when she wanted them, a bath drawn and waiting for her without even the hint of a servant in sight. It was all part of the magic of this place. Agnes' magic.

In the cold darkness and silence, Maybelle suddenly remembered what Agnes had said before her trip. If you don't come back in three days, I'll die.

A chill ran down her spine that had nothing to do with her soaked dress. Surely Agnes had just been exaggerating, the way she so often did. Like that time she'd said she felt like she'd been alone in this mansion for a hundred years. Or when she said she lived under a curse.

But still...where was she? After all the fuss she'd made when Maybelle had first asked to leave, why wasn't she waiting for her? Was she sulking in her room again?

“Agnes!” Maybelle called again, slowly climbing the rest of the stairs. “I'm back! Where are you?”

Nothing but silence to welcome her.

Her footsteps slowed as she reached the top of the stairs and turned to the right, heading for her room. The corridor was wide enough that there wasn't much danger of bumping into things, but it was all so eerie without candles lighting her way. She paused at the corner, where a tall window offered a bit of cold illumination.

Shivering, Maybelle looked out at the darkening grounds, still lashed by the driving rain. The rosebushes looked like they were taking a beating, magic or no magic. Even as she watched, the wind stripped leaves off the branches, and most of the brightly-colored petals were already gone. What on earth was Agnes thinking? Even in her most fickle moods, she would usually relent if she realized it would endanger her precious roses....

Maybelle frowned. What was that dark lump in the middle of the path? She hadn't noticed it as she rushed up the front drive, but from this higher vantage point, she could see it clearly. Was it a tarp caught under a wheelbarrow, knocked onto its side in all this wind?

No. Those weren't the handles of a wheelbarrow. They were horns. Two horns, curled like a goat's, rising from a big hairy head lying in the mud....

Dropping everything, Maybelle grabbed her dripping skirts and raced back down the corridor. She hopped up onto the banister as she'd done so many times before and slid expertly to the bottom. Laughing as Agnes tried to imitate her and toppled over the side in a heap.

She ran to the front door and heaved it open, letting go as the howling wind gusted in and slammed it back against the wall. “Last one inside's a rotten egg!”

The rain almost seemed to be falling horizontally, the wind was so strong. Holding up an arm to shield her face, Maybelle splashed along the muddy path as fast as she could. Walking along the path, crunching through the snow, leaving behind a neat row of shoe prints and paw prints side-by-side.

“Agnes!” Maybelle screamed, the wind stealing her voice, as she turned down an aisle between the rosebushes. “You were wrong when you said there was nothing beautiful about you, Agnes. Just look at your roses!”

There she lay, like a mound of dirt, one arm flung around a rosebush as if to protect it, the other curled tight against her chest. She wasn't moving.

“Agnes?” Maybelle dropped to her knees in a puddle by Agnes' side. Throwing her weight against Agnes' huge shoulder, she managed to roll her onto her back. But how would she ever drag her up into the house?

A weak groan escaped Agnes' lips, and her eyelids fluttered, then slid open. “May...belle?”

Hot tears stung Maybelle's eyes. “Thank goodness!” she cried, grasping Agnes' hand in both of hers. “I thought you were....”

Agnes slowly opened her hand, and Maybelle saw that it was cupped around a small, bedraggled red rose. Most of the petals were gone, and those that remained looked wilted.

“Last one,” Agnes grunted. “Not much...time now.”

“It's all right,” Maybelle said, trying to give her an encouraging smile. “We can replant. Once you're feeling a little stronger, maybe you can turn the weather back to spring and—“

“No.” A shudder ran through Agnes' whole body, and her face twisted in a horrible grimace of pain. “No starting over. No...No use.”

“What are you talking about?” Maybelle patted her friend's hand. “Of course we can start over. We can always start over.”

“But...we sh-shouldn't.” Agnes' voice grew fainter by the minute, and Maybelle had to lean closer to hear. “Just...go back home...Maybelle.”

Icy fingers of dread closed around Maybelle's heart. “What? No! I made a promise, remember? I'm to stay here in my father's place—“

“I release you.” Her big amber eyes rolled to meet Maybelle's, bloodshot and exhausted, but crystal clear. “It was...wrong. I...was wrong. To make you stay...against your will. So...I...re...lease...you....”

With that final whisper, her eyes slid closed, and her head lolled back onto the ground. A shiver, like a tiny electric pulse, ran through Maybelle's whole body, and she knew that some sort of spell had just ended.

“No, Agnes!” Frantically, Maybelle chafed Agnes' hands, patted her cheeks, loosened her collar. “Agnes, you don't understand! I'm not here against my will! We're friends, Agnes! I want to be here!”

The huge beast didn't move. This wasn't like the times Agnes sulked and refused to talk to Maybelle. She couldn't even tell if Agnes was breathing anymore.

Desperate to do something, Maybelle tried to heave Agnes into her arms, but the most she could manage was to cradle Agnes' head in her lap. Tears mingled with rainwater on her furry cheeks.

What if she were dead already? What would Maybelle do then? Go back to her family? But there would be no more strolling through the gardens in the evening, no more reading by firelight, no more long conversations or teaching each other games or trying to braid each other's hair or teaching Agnes how to dance or listening to her wonderful singing voice or laughing at each other's silly jokes or....

“Don't be stupid, Agnes!” Maybelle sobbed. “You're my best friend. The best friend I've ever had. No one knows me like you do. No one cares like you do. If I knew this would happen to you, I never would have gone away.”

Maybelle rested her cheek against Agnes' forehead, in between the horns, and rocked back and forth, holding her best friend close. “I'm sorry, Agnes...I'm sorry.... I never wanted to lose you. I just...I just wanted to keep being your friend. Always. Forever.” A painful sob ripped out of her chest as her best friend's body lay cold and still in her arms. “I love you, Agnes.”

Faintly, Maybelle was aware that the wind had died down, and raindrops no longer pounded down on her head and shoulders. The realization of what that meant only made her cry harder. Her fingers tangled in Agnes' mane of hair as she mumbled over and over again, “I love you, Agnes...I love you....”

“Love you too.”

Maybelle looked up at those gruff words, then gave a great start as she realized she held a complete stranger in her arms.

The woman she held was large, with broad shoulders and a squarish jaw. She was no great beauty, especially not with disheveled brown hair straggling all over the place or her body swimming in Agnes' oversized dress, but there was something comfortable and familiar about....

Wait. “Ag...nes?”

Moving stiffly, the woman held her own hands up in front of her face and turned them around, as if she'd never seen them before. Slowly, a wondering smile crossed her face, and Maybelle noticed this woman's front teeth protruded slightly.

Not too unlike the huge fangs that had curved from Agnes' lips.

Then she raised her eyes to meet Maybelle's, and there was no doubt. Those were the amber-brown eyes of her best friend.

“Agnes!”

They threw their arms around each other, and they were crying, but they were also laughing, and Agnes was trying to tell her something about a fairy and a flower and a curse, but Maybelle was too distracted by how small Agnes was in her arms. How high Agnes' voice was.

“How?” she gulped, pulling back and holding Agnes at arms' length. “How did this happen?”

“It's all you, silly!” Agnes laughed, swiping her sleeve over Maybelle's cheeks to dry her tears. She still moved carefully, as if afraid of accidentally swiping Maybelle with nonexistent claws. “True love breaks any curse, don't you know that?”

“True love?” Maybelle sniffled.

Tears spilled out of Agnes' beautiful amber eyes and rolled down her round, rosy cheeks. “What love could be truer than this?” she said with a shaky laugh. “That you'd still want to be friends with someone as beastly as me?”

“Oh, you're not as bad as all that.”

Agnes raised her eyebrows. “Really? Even after all those nasty things I said to scare you on your first night here? Or when I threw a chair at you and screamed when you went exploring in the west wing?”

“Well....” Maybelle didn't know how to deny it without completely lying, so she hastily changed the subject. “I don't regret anything, though. I don't regret coming here. I don't regret deciding to be your friend.”

With a watery chuckle, Agnes rested their foreheads together. “I don't regret it either.”

[octoqueen10]

Daphne and The Haters

TW: Hate, past abuse (not explicit but implied), negative self-talk

A/N: I do not own Violet or any of her children, they all belong to @jokerislandgirl32, I tried my best to write from her POV but any mistakes on context/accuracies/characterization are entirely my own. Also, the names used from the haters are meant to be funny and are not reflecting of anyone with these usernames

Daphne’s life was perfect. She was finally happy. She had to be, her life was as good as it ever had been. It didn’t matter that her dad didn’t say goodbye before he moved in with his new girlfriend Allison, who she doesn’t think likes her very much, and lives in another state now. Who cared that all of her ‘friends’ don’t seem to include her in anything anymore and say things behind her back. She didn’t mind being alone all the time, she had her phone to keep her company. Her internet followers were never mean to her and always seemed to multiply every time she checked her social media pages. They loved Daphne and she had nothing to worry about. Her life was truly a daydream. This is what Daphne was thinking about when she opened her Instagram page to see what the most recent comment was.

@/ImATrollWhoBulliesKids thought she was annoying. Maybe Daphne was a little bit annoying and nobody told her. @/IHateSuccessfulPeople thought she was an ugly attention seeker. Hundreds of comments flooded Daphne, nitpicking her for everything. There were anonymous comments too, telling her how awful she was without ever revealing themselves. Maybe Daphne wasn’t as good as she thought. She really wasn’t good at anything. Daphne decided that she would change herself to be what she thought her perceived audience would want her to be, and changed who she was. It would make the world love her more, it was worth it. It was worth it and Daphne was happy. It was what she always dreamed of. She had to do something drastic, something no one could expect, something different. Then she would be happy and be able to finally be who she had always wanted to be. She would be perfect.

Violet Varmitech was worried about Daphne. She knew the power words could have on somebody and how they could affect them, especially at a young age. She was no stranger to criticism, working in The Lost Colony Outdoor Drama. Her ex boyfriend, Travis, further contributed, nothing she ever did was good enough for him. She began to spiral, going into a dark place, until she met Zach again. He was able to remind her of the amazing parts of the world, and taught her to love again. She loved him and her life more than she could imagine now. Violet worried that Daphne was spiraling headfirst into that dark place, and nothing anybody said would get her out of it. She loved Daphne since the day they met, with Daphne arriving four days later than Donita’s due date. “Fashionably late” as she said. She loved Daphne’s determination and tenacity, and how she can get so focused on a task, much like her husband. Violet even secretly ‘shipped’ Daphne with her youngest son, Vallen. She could tell Daphne was changing. She saw her spending less and less time with her family, and more and more on her phone, alone, reading comments. The comments could be a vile place, and Violet could only imagine the horrid things people were saying about Daphne, someone so kind and determined, and what she was absorbing. She knew she had to figure out a way to teach her about the internet more and fast.

[wildpeachfarm]

Hi! I hope you’re doing good

I’ve seen a few anons mention how it’s okay to only be here for Dream/dteam. And how a lot of the other Minecraft-based CCs are seemingly jealous of all the success Dteam have had, and think that deplatforming them will make way for us to move to their content. And I want to say I agree.

I became a fan of (dream first, then SNF) them in 2020 when it was peak Covid time. I was a sophomore in college, and my brother was in kindergarten; I was trying to find things to relate with him, and stumbled into the Minecraft sphere, cause he likes Minecraft. I was hoping to find someone current and semi-child friendly, and I stumbled upon dreams videos. I watched them first before showing them to my little brother, and after deciding I liked them, we now watch dreams videos together.

As someone who had limited access to the internet as a kid, and knows like next to nothing about Minecraft, I’m really only here for Dteam. Cause I enjoy their content and it brought my brother and I closer. If I stop being a fan of Dteam, I’m honestly probably going to just leave the Minecraft sphere altogether, considering Dteam are what’s keeping me here (not that I haven’t met some amazing people, but you get what I mean).

It’s very telling the agenda of these CCs the more I become offline and take a look at the bigger picture. I said this earlier, but their content is based on a fleeting hatred for the internets current punching bag. If they ever stop expressing hatred or, god forbid, Dteam get deplatformed, all the “fans” they think they had will be gone. Because with no common perceived enemy, there’s nothing keeping them tied to those creators. And so they’ll go back to whatever they were doing before-hand.

I wanted to extend some semblance of sympathy to these CCs, cause it’s really hard to make a career out of this, but they’re also going about it the wrong way, and my sympathy doesn’t exist anymore. If the only content you have is performative activism, then maybe you should consider a different career path.

Adding on to that, let’s say I do stop watching Dteam, or the “behind the scenes” stuff wasn’t just petty grievances. Why would I then go watch the people that have been harassing, bullying, threatening the same people I was just a fan of the entire time I was their fan? If dteams morals are so bad, what makes theirs any better? And why would I support theirs, when I wouldn’t support someone else’s bad morals? (Again, hypothetical, cause I’m still a fan and all the “bts” stuff ARE petty grievances).

They’re so blinded by their hatred and jealousy that they cannot see they’re destroying their own careers with this. There’s a reason outside of Twitter, a lot of people don’t know who these creators are, and the only reason they do is because they stick their noses everywhere.

It’s become apparent the last few weeks that outside of Twitter- where their core fanbase IS NOT- people are seeing these CCs for what they are and it’s driving them away from any content they might produce. They’re driving away potential fans acting like this, and they can’t even see it, cause they’re so focused on dteam (mainly dream). Maybe focus on your own career, before trying to take down someone else’s, especially when you have nothing career-ending over them.

So again, why would I stop being a fan of people I liked for so long, and stuck around for the good, bad, ugly, and sometimes dangerous (gotta love doxxing /sar), to immediately go be a fan of people that contributed to the absolute onslaught of horrid treatment of the people I was a fan of? It doesn’t make sense.

Unlike them, I’m not going to compromise my morals and make a big public spectacle to then privately do the opposite. I dropped Wilbur after Shelby came out with her story. I was more than willing to drop Dream if his allegations were proven correct, and the same goes for George. That’s what these CCs don’t understand. I’m a human first before I’m a fan. And that humanity stays with me wherever my interests take me.

Sorry it’s so long; I know you probably have a lot of asks. But still appreciate you taking the time to read this anyway.

Have a good day, my favorite source of tea!

-L :)

Thank you for sharing L ! I think you bring up some very good points about consuming content/CCs and just Being A Person

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

This came in as an ask along with some spam and my phone app did the horrid delay-lag thing where it updated the screen just as I was hitting delete on spam and nuked your non-spam ask. Apologies. I have excavated it as a screenshot from my email notifications and hope you end up being able to see it.

To answer your question:

Do I think the parent company that laid off 900 employees in March would do better than the heartless CEO and upper management that just laid off 220? I doubt it. Generally, the larger the company, the worse this sort of thing gets, and also the less likelihood you'll have diverse stories and non-mainstream content.

One of the things I love so intensely about Destiny is the queerness and cultural diversity they have within their characters, and the nuance and complexity the writers were able to bring to those narratives. It's why the story is as rich and beautiful as it is. I think it would be healthier if the people who have cost so many employees their livelihood with their poor management decisions (including selling Bungie to Sony in the first place) were replaced with people who actually loved the game. But I don't know if that is even possible at this point.

I also don't think that means that we will necessarily not see good stories in future, despite so many deeply beloved writers being cut away from the thing they poured so much love into for so long. A thing that is necessary to remember is that writing for a project as huge as Destiny is done in teams, not by individuals working on their own, and that when you are on a creative team, your influence lingers long after you leave. Your contributions inspire others on the team and they inspire yours.

Collaborative creativity is amazing because of that energy and synergy and symbiosis among the people working in these teams. The creative environment within Destiny has been drastically altered. But that doesn't mean those teams are now dead. The energy of those who are gone will linger and live on in the work of the team that remains (provided that work is allowed to be expressive at all).

"To love is to be changed." To create lovingly in a group means every individual who participates is changed by it. That's why it hurts so much and why it is going to be so hard for the individuals affected to recover from this, both the ones that were amputated from the team and the ones who remain.

I don't think Destiny will ever be 'back to normal.' You can't cut out such strong and beautiful creative voices from a team and still expect it to sing the same song. But those who remain may still sing, and that song may still be beautiful. And the influence of those who have been ripped away will continue, because collaborative creativity is like that. People within a group like this form an ecosystem and change each other. We won't get to hear what the new songs will sound like on their own until after Heresy, but those remaining have had so much taken from them. I think they deserve to be given a chance to be heard.

Stories are powerful. When you find a story that speaks to you deeply, it impacts your own thoughts about yourself. That is why so many of us are grieving what has been done to the beloved work of art, storytelling, and gameplay that is Destiny.

Do not let your grief keep you fixated on the past. This is an unwelcome change, but that does not mean there is no future for those who were ripped away from their teams, and it does not mean there is no future for what they worked on. We may still yet explore the vastness of space beyond Sol. Do not give up on any of these creative people. Support them, watch for what they do next, send them appreciation and gratitude and love.

Hope in darkness, finding ways to deal with irrevokable change, and healing from grief are all at Destiny's core. They aren't just pretty stories. They matter so much because they are essential. We need them.

Eyes up, Guardian.