#and on the opposite page the name of the high school that gave it to his high school

[grinchwrapsupreme]

nothing I love more in a secondhand book than a note written to someone in the cover

[my-castles-crumbling]

Of Romance and Play Practice

@wolfstarbingo2024 - square: nerdy Remus - rating: G - no warnings - word count: 974 - based on @probs-reading's HC - AO3 link

To this day, Remus still couldn't figure out how they all were friends. They took up vastly different social circles. Like a smaller version of the Breakfast Club, he, Sirius, James, and Peter were as opposite as could be. James was the school basketball star, cheerleaders constantly hanging off his elbows (much to his boyfriend, Regulus's, disgust). Peter ran the yearbook, and was never seen without a notebook and a camera. Remus, of course, was the textbook definition of a nerd: he was the president of Chess Club, and took more AP classes than all of his friend combined. And Sirius....Sirius was perfect.

Sirius was the star of the theater program, having finally figured out how to put his dramatics to good use. He lived for the stage, and the audience ate him up no matter what his role. Of course, Remus ate him up, too. Or at least, he wanted to.

They'd all been friends since elementary school. Perhaps that was why they were able to stay close, no matter their differences. But Remus's crush on Sirius had developed quite recently, and for some reason, he couldn't shake it.

Perhaps it was the way Sirius oozed confidence. His smile was absolutely contagious and it made Remus literally weak at the knees, often times he had to sit down after Sirius grinned at him. Maybe it was the way he felt safe with Sirius. Though they loved to tease each other, Sirius never judged him when it mattered, and they'd been friends for so long, they knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

Of course, it helped that Sirius was fit as fuck.

But that wasn't it. It was...Remus couldn't help but feel warm when he looked at him. It was a bit disgusting, really.

But one night, when Sirius asked him to help run lines for the new play he was a part of, Remus agreed, because he wanted to help. He figured eventually, this crush would go away, so he should just continue spending time with Sirius like normal, acting like nothing was different. But when he read the name of the play, he froze.

"Erm...Romeo and Juliet?" he asked Sirius, who was sat on his bed, shucking his leather jacket and making himself comfortable.

"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally. "Good thing McKinnon's as flaming as I am, or I'd be dreading the kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

And of course. Of course, Sirius needed him to practice running lines for the most romantic play in the fucking universe. What else?

"Alright," he murmured, sitting nervously on the edge of his own bed, as far from Sirius as possible. "Erm, what scene?"

"Let's start..." Sirius flipped through the script, stopping at a page and pointing. "There. I'm having trouble with the emotion, to be honest. If you could just read for McKinnon, that'd be amazing."

But Remus's stomach flipped as he looked over the script, recognizing the scene. The fucking balcony scene?

"Erm, alright," he nodded, trying to pull himself together. "How camest thou hither- er - tell me, and wherefore? Erm, the orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, of any of my, erm, kinsmen find thee here," he recited disjointedly.

Sirius chuckled and responded fluidly, "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out." His eyes were wide, genuine, and Remus became entranced as he listened. "And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

It took Remus a second to realize he was done. That it was his turn to respond. Because hearing Sirius speak of love like this, it was doing things to him. "Oh!" he nearly yelled as Sirius gave him an expectant look, jumping a bit. "Erm. If- if they to see thee, they will murder thee. Fuck, this is intense, huh?" he commented, scanning over the script.

Sirius laughed and ignored his comment, going on, "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look though but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He said those words with a small smile, eyes on Remus's.

"I...I would not for the world they saw thee here," Remus nearly-whispered, looking at the paper and back at Sirius, who was still watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"I have night's clock to hide me from their eyes," he whispered, moving closer to Remus- and when had he gotten so close, they were side-by-side, now!- grabbing his hand lightly. "And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Remus swallowed, drowning in the look Sirius was giving him, squeezing his hand and allowing the heat and tension to wrap around their bodies. He wasn't imagining it, was he? Was Sirius feeling it, too? The way the very air was pulsating, urging him to move forward, to bring their lips together?

He hoped so.

"Sirius," he murmured, his head hazy, hardly bothering to look at the book, too distracted by the moment.

But Sirius seemed to be contemplating something. "Move not while my prayer's effect I take," he murmured, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose in confusion, before Sirius leaned forward, hand grazing over Remus's jaw and pulling their lips together.

And it was like fireworks. Hearing Sirius talk about love with the words of a poet had just made Remus's crush bloom into something more, and he couldn't resist grabbing for him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pulling him closer until they were completely entangled in each other, their lips and teeth fighting for control of the best kiss Remus had ever had in his life.

[lovexjoe]

The Hotel

warning: S M U T with Michael Vargas

You and Michael have been bickering the entire way to this hotel and you couldn’t wait to get there so you guys could finally be separated. Following you across four states was insane, but discovering he’s a US Marshal and you were under witness protection definitely topped it off. Your mother was a piece of fucking work. What happened to the communication is key? She clearly skipped that shit in the parental handbook. Michael didn’t mean what he said at the restaurant. Everything that happened that night at the bar was real. He’s been fighting himself since. You catching him and having him at gun point turned him on. 

Look at you using his tips and tricks against him. He wondered what other things he could teach you and you’d just obey. He fucked up his cover, but he realize he gets to have you in closer proximity so he wasn’t gonna complain. The fact that you walked into that restaurant with the gun and sat both of you down had him swooned. You were more badass than you gave yourself credit for. And rebellious slick mouth of yours… 

“You afraid I might stab you with a chopstick? After you walked me through a kitchen full of knives? You realize how easy it would have been for me to grab one?” 

“Shut up” 

The waiter walked over to ask “Can I get you something?” 

“In a minute” He walks away just for you to continue with your usual sass. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want to order a beer? Cause apparently the Marshals let their agents drink on the job” 

Silence. 

“What are you mute?! Speak!” 

“You did tell me to shut up so you want me to speak now or continue to shut up?” 

The death glare you gave him made it hard for him not to laugh. Boy is he gonna enjoy being this close to you. Hearing him say that he was just playing a role the night at the bar really stung. Everything else was falling apart so to add a shitty love life on top was just g r e a t.

Now here you two were outside of the hotel room waiting for Michael to open it. You wondered to yourself why there was only one key but you decided to ask questions later. You stepped inside, placing your suitcase under the bed. Michael doing his checks around the room. 

“I’ll take the couch…” 

“You’re not sleeping in here get your own room!” You crossed your arms like a brat. If he could put you over his lap and spank you: he would. 

“That’s not how this works Y/N” Whenever he said your name your heart does flutters and your stomach dips.

“Well I’m not comfortable with that” 

“And I’m not comfortable with letting you out of my sight. So….tie me up if it’ll make you feel better but neither one of us is leaving this room.” He walks up to the edge of the bed where you sat, arms crossed like a brat and he towers over you. You felt so small around him. Damsel in fucking distress. 

“I’m gonna need my gun back” You shoved your bag towards him and headed over to the bathroom. Stripping down on the way over there, he took in your figure in your undergarments. He couldn’t believe you’d fuck your mom’s nurse. Bobby? He’s a fucking loser. He took his gun out of your bag and noticed your sketchbook. He recalled the Atlanta office giving him information on you and your recent activities. They definitely forgot to mention how much sass could occupy your petite body. He heard the shower turn on and the curtain pulled back so he took a look into your sketchbook which was also a diary.

Tonight I met a man in the bar. It felt comforting like I didn’t have to run any longer. I could just stay in one place and he’d protect me. He was handsome. I haven’t felt this nervous around someone since high school. I almost forgot what it was to feel attracted to the opposite sex. Just been running on auto pilot and since the incident….fear. He taught me how to shoot and I appreciate him greatly for it. The night ended with no kiss, but I achingly wish it did. 

He smiles to himself as he turns to the next page it was a sketch of him at the bar. He was done talking shit. He joked out you being an artist but you were actually talented. His finger ran over the name you left under the sketch and his heart did a flip. 

My guardian angel 

It was gonna be a hard night to resist you. He knows the feelings were there on both sides. You thought it was unrequited but it was so far from it. He placed your sketchbook back in the bag. The shower turns off and he hears a “fuck” from the bathroom. This motel design was devious cause there was no bathroom door at all. Plus the huge mirror on the wall that could reflect your nudity was just adding fuel to the fire that is ready to ignite. 

“Michael?” You poked your head out. He looks up your way, his stomach feeling those familiar flutters when he’s around you. 

“I forgot a towel…” You looked at the fresh stacked towels on the couch then back on him. Those doe eyes of yours are gonna get you in trouble tonight. It poked a dominant side of him he didn’t know he had. He just wants to take you and having you a begging mess under him. 

“Come and get it….” He sits down on the couch next to the towels. From this angle the mirror behind you was giving him a complete view of your ass and he couldn’t help the feeling of blood rushing to his lower region. 

“If you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask.” You walked over there ready to reach over his lap for a towel. You had so much mouth for a girl who looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Tonight he was gonna fix it. He couldn’t control himself any longer. Michael gets up and stands behind you. You can feel the body heat radiating off the two of you. He leans down near your ear and whispers. 

“Bend over for me…” he places a soft kiss below your ear and you followed his wishes. The arm of the chair was soft against your skin and had your ass perked up perfectly for him. You were excited and giddy. He glides his fingers through your folds earning a little shiver in response.

“Fuck, you’re soaking already” You heard him suck the juices off his fingers and you couldn’t wrap your head around what’s happening. 

“You can touch me but you can’t kiss me? Such a gentleman…” you snorted just to earn a hard slap to your ass.

Oh! That felt good. 

“Tonight we’re gonna learn how to listen and obey. Understood?” You look back at him and nodded.

“I can’t hear you….” He slides his fingers through your folds again, rubbing up and down. 

“Y-yes…I-I understand.” 

He pulls you up straight and turned you around to face him. 

“Do you trust me?” He caress your cheek and you nodded as you nuzzle your head into his touch. As soon as your lips touched, all the fear you felt since the incident vanished. You felt whole again. His hands held you close, they were warm and rough but against your soft skin it was like a match sparking a fire. He pulls away, bending you back over the couch handle. 

He spread your cheeks and dove in. His tongue devouring you from your ass to your pussy. Drowning in you, is what he wanted. To consume every bit of wetness you produced for him. You would have never thought he could be this dirty. Heaven’s a thing and you’re there right now because of his touch. 

“Michael!” You reached for his hand and he held it for you as he thrusts his tongue into your hole. His beard getting drenched in the process. 

“I’m gonna worship this pussy.” 

You squeezed his hand letting him know you were close. You felt yourself about to release when the motions that brought you there came to abrupt stop. You let out a frustrated cry.

“That’s for having a slick fucking mouth.” 

You heard his belt come undone along with jeans and boxers. His thick length slapped against your ass. He bites his lip as he slides his length between your folds, teasing your clit. 

Hes so cruel 

“P-please daddy. Just take it” Y/N begged. His ego grew. The fact that you fixed your slick little mouth to beg for him. Hearing you call him daddy made it even better because you were his princess after tonight. He was going to protect you. He was gonna love you. 

“Such a pretty fucking princess for me”. He slips in and slowly thrusts in. Your pussy deviously clenching onto his length. He lifts one of your legs up on the couch arm to get a deeper angle. A sinful angle. He was hitting a spot you didn’t know could be touched. 

“Uhhh fuck you’re so big!” 

“God you’re taking me so fucking good. You’re so fucking good” 

Oh you had a praise kink, there was a feeling unfamiliar in your stomach as he starts to pound into you. Your moans only motivating him to thrust all the way in. 

“Look at you, clenching me as I praise you. You are soaking me. Fuck baby fuckkkk” he wets his thumb and starts to rub on your ass. 

You didn’t even let him work it, you reached behind and assisted as you felt his thumb enter you. Jesus Christ. You were full. Full of him and that’s all you wanted. That’s all you craved. His free hand caress your breast. What a drastic turn of events the night took. 

Neither one of you were complaining. 

“Fuck I’m close”  The sensation of his thumb and his thrusts had you shaking. You both shared an orgasm. He filled you up and held you close. He picked you up cause you could barely stand straight and laid you down in bed.

"Your guardian angel to the rescue"

You slapped his arm

"You read my sketchbook!" Your face turned red from the embarrassment.

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

@ebsmind @hopetookourvibe @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @poppetbaby02 @bitchyglittersuit @marley1773

@jacobscipioswoman @sunrisesfromthewest

@midnightheat

[someoneintheshadow456]

I said before, now that Cait Corrain’s true self has come out, I can finally elaborate on what happened with her. To put a long story short, I was one of her very first victims - long before she became an original fiction author and back when she was known as Enterprisingly on AO3 - the author of Play to Win.

I know that #reviewbombgate was back in December, but at the time, I did not know about it because I’m not involved in BookTok. However, I WAS involved with the Reylo fandom, albeit indirectly.

The final chapters of Play to Win went on a tangent that seemed bizarre to me at the time. In fact, it seemed so strange that I brushed it off almost completely. It was only when I found Play to Win’s Wayback Machine page after recalling memories of the Reylo fandom last year when I read the chapter properly (instead of skipping ahead to get to the Reylo scenes). And a proper reading made me realize what was so unnerving about it:

Anyone who has engaged with my blog (especially from 2015-2019, when I used to post a lot more content about my personal life) can see the strangely... specific way this character was described. In order to go into this level of depth, one has to have been following me intently and keeping tabs of all the personal things I posted.

And then, she goes from eerily specific descriptions, to straight up maliciously lying about me:

Keep in mind, this screed takes up an ENTIRE chapter in itself. Said character, Ejya Fjord, is a background NPC who is mentioned a total of 121 times in a 161,000 word story. In fact, her name is mentioned so little that you could be forgiven for not remembering her at all:

You'd think, if someone would do something like this, I had to have done something terrible to her, or even just gave her a negative review. But I never did.

As you can see here, I have only engaged positively with her. Since Play to Win was also taken down and you can’t see old comments on Wayback Machine. Unfortunately after this, I can only give my word without receipts.

Play to Win was published first in 2018. I reviewed her story in March of 2018, possibly even earlier. In my review, I praised the writing, worldbuilding, and dialogues, but gave a small constructive criticism in that the politics could be better integrated into the story without feeling disjointed.

In the very early chapters, Ejya was clearly intended to be 100% Swedish - as one can tell from the name. However, at some point in the later half of the story, she retroactively became mixed race and a rival for Ben's affections, while Ben seems to be having none of it. It's clear these choices were made to portray me as some kind of horny fangirl for Kylo Ren who will stomp on other girls for his sake:

When I read the last chapter first, I was horrified. But now I'm just... bemused that someone would ever see me as some kind of calculating vixen who dresses like a Euphoria high school student and only likes masculine hobbies to pick up dudes. When in reality it took me until 2020 to be able to type the word "sex" without having heart attack and have never so much as posted a selfie on here.

It's also funny that Ejya is petite and flat chested while my actual body type is the exact opposite... which she would know since she stalked my blog so thoroughly. Almost as though she's implying something about her own insecurities...

Initially, I was under the impression that Corrain targeted me because of my association with @ainomica - due to her ruffling the Reylo fandom’s feathers (and ending up on Corrain’s hit list) over her opinions on John Boyega. However, that controversy happened in 2020. When Corrain wrote this libel about me, @ainomica wasn’t even on her radar, not to mention it was a year before we had ever even met. This libel was done to target me, and me exclusively.

In essence - Corrain weaved libel about me into her story because my existence pissed her off. We know now that Corrain had a penchant for targeting sapphic authors and WOC almost exclusively. So it's safe to say she was just being a typical white saviour liberal who shows what she actually thinks of minorities when they don't toe the line.

While this does make her less unhinged in my eyes than using me to target someone else, it still means that Corrain was, and always has been capable of aggression towards anyone she’s remotely offended by. Especially if said person happens to be a minority of some kind.

[trans-axolotl]

Image description: [Screenshots of pages from Brilliant Imperfection by Eli Clare. Text reads:

Your Suicide Haunts me.

Bear, it’s been over a decade since you killed yourself, and still I want to howl. I feel anguish and rage rattling down at the bottom of my lungs, pressing against my rib cage. If ever my howling erupts, I will take it to schoolyards and churches, classrooms and prisons, homes where physical and sexual violence lurk as common as mealtime. I know many of us need to wail. Together we could shatter windows, bring bullies and perpetrators to their knees, stop shame in its tracks.

Once a week, maybe once a month, I learn of another suicide. They’re friends of friends, writers and dancers who have bolstered me, activists I’ve sat in meetings with, kids from the high school down the road, coworkers and acquaintances, news stories and Facebook posts. They’re queer, trans, disabled, chronically ill, youth, people of color, poor, survivors of abuse and violence, homeless. They’re too many to count.

Bear, will you call their names with me? It’s become a queer ritual, this calling of the names—all those dead of AIDS and breast cancer, car accidents and suicide, hate violence and shame, overdoses and hearts that just stop beating. The names always begin wave upon wave, names filling conference halls, church basements, city parks. Voices call one after another, overlapping, clustering, then coming apart, a great flock of songbirds, gathering to fly south, wheeling and diving—this cloud of remembrance. Then quiet. I think we’re done, only to have another voice call, then two, then twenty. We fill the air for thirty minutes, an hour, a great flock of names. Tonight, will you sit with me? Because, Bear, I can’t sleep.

I remember your smile, your kindness, your compassionate and fierce politics. I remember our long e-mail conversations about being disabled and trans. I remember a brilliant speech you gave at True Spirit, a trans gathering in Washington, DC. I remember you telling me about how you’d disappear for months at a time when your life became grim, how you’d do anything not to go to a psych hospital again. I remember your handsome Black queer trans disabled working-class self. And then, you were gone.

The details of your death haunt me. You had checked yourself in. You were on suicide watch. I imagine your desperation and suffering. I know racism, transphobia, classism colluded. The nurses and aides didn’t follow their own protocols, not bothering to check on you every fifteen minutes. You were alive and sleeping at 5:00 a.m. and dead at 7:00 a.m.; at least that’s what their records say. Did despair clog your throat, panic coil in your intestines? In those last moments, what lingered on your tongue? I know about your death as fleetingly as your life.

Bear, I’d do almost anything to have you alive here and now, anything to stave off your death. But what did you need then? Drugs that worked? A shrink who listened and was willing to negotiate the terms of your confinement with you? A stronger support system? An end to shame and secrecy? As suffering and injustice twisted together through your body-mind, what did you need?

I could almost embrace cure without ambivalence if it would have sustained your life. But what do I know? Maybe your demons, the roller coaster of your emotional and spiritual self, were so much part of you that cure would have made no sense. You wrote not long before your death, “In a world that separates gender, I have found the ability to balance the blending of supposed opposites. In a world that demonizes non-conformity, I have found the purest spiritual expression in celebrating my otherness.”

Yes, Bear. I know that truth. Your otherness was a beautiful braid— your hard-earned trans manhood looping into your Black self, wrapped in working-class smarts and resilience, woven into disability, threaded with queerness. I saw you last in an elevator at True Spirit. You told me that you were spending the weekend hanging out with trans men of color. I can still see your gleeful smile, sparkling eyes.

Friend, what would have made your life possible with all its aches and sorrows? I ask as someone who has gripped the sheer cliff face of suicide more than once. Calling the names exhausts me. Your death exhausts me. The threat, reality, fact of suicide exhausts me. Its arrival on the back of shame and isolation exhausts me. Bear, will you come sit beside me tonight? I’m too exhausted to sleep.]

From Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure by Eli Clare, pages 63-64.

This passage has stuck with me since I first read it and I find myself returning over and over, especially in the times I want to be gentle to my grief.

Thought I'd share it with you all right now <3

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Secret Santa (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Secret Santa (Rated G)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: None! Although, I'm sure my interpretation of secret santa is incorrect -- just a heads up.

Summary: For Stevemas Day 11; This Christmas, Robin decided to host a holiday celebration to bring the party together. When she adds in a little extra magic by starting a secret santa, Eddie recruits himself to help you find that perfect gift for that special someone.

It took you three times to read the two words on the page before you could finally understand it. Steve Harrington was written in red glitter pen on the folded slip in your hand. It was unmistakably Robin’s messy scrawl, but it still felt as if it was written in another language. Surely this couldn’t be right. 

“Alright,” came the voice of the aforementioned bubbly coworker. “Does everyone have a name for Secret Santa?”

There was a low murmur of agreement, followed by the crunch of paper, which spread throughout the Wheeler’s basement. Why you all continued to set up a base of operations in your best friend’s home remained a mystery. Perhaps you were just creatures of habit. Routines kept you safe, comfortable even. 

“Who’d you get?” The low voice of Eddie Munson caused you to quite literally jump from your thoughts. When he noticed your flinch, the metal head gave a small tut of concern. “Hey, you’re alright, you’re okay. It’s just me. It’s just…me.”

Ever since the attack, you’ve been considerably on edge. While nightmares took over your nights, paranoia filled your days. Every action could set you off. Whenever you closed your eyes, you saw it: that place and the horrors it contained. It happened so often and it felt so real. Sometimes you worried Henry had made his return. You had taken to sleeping with your Walkman at night, just in case. Never again did you want to return to that hellscape. 

Eddie repeated his question. “Who’d you get for secret Santa?”

“Why don’t you just mind your own business, Munson?” you snapped at the metalhead. “I think I’d be violating some sacred oath of the secret Santa if I told you.”

“I got Henderson,” Eddie supplied far too quickly. He rested his chin on your shoulder and tilted his head to look at you. “There. Now you have to tell me. And I know it isn’t me…you’d be grinning like the Cheshire cat if it was.” 

You sighed and held up the slip of paper clutched in your palm. Eddie wasted no time in snatching it up like the little gremlin that he was. A slow quiet whistle escaped him as he took in the name. “Well damn,” he said. “Didn’t you get lucky? This should be easy as pie for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The curly dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow at you in surprise. “You mean you’re not?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“You and Harrington. You’re not…together or anything?”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. Sure, you had found yourself spending more time with Steve Harrington over the last two years, but it didn’t mean you were together. The Upside Down had messed with each and every one of your friends, who you considered to be more like family by now. Your panic somehow ended up bringing you closer to Steve, a guy you only admired from afar during your high school days. If you had told your freshman self you would be swapping horror stories and spilling blood with King Steve, you’re pretty sure they would have a heart attack. 

The truth was, Steve had turned out to be the exact opposite of what you imagine. He was gentle and kind. The two of you had formed an unofficial nightmare prevention club. The near-nightly meetings would consist of multiple-hour-long conversations over stretched out phone cords or late night drives around downtown Hawkins. Other times, it was just silently sitting in Steve’s dark and abandoned living room, grip tightened on small objects hidden under blankets. These moments were your battle scars and it would be a long healing process. Fortunately, the two of you had gotten really good at being there for each other in the meantime. 

“No, Eddie,” you corrected with a heavy sigh. “We’re not together. We’re just–”

“Friends? Yeah, right,” your friend shook his head with an angry passion. “Don’t go bullshitting me here, kid.”

“I’m not-”

Eddie held up a hand to your face to silence your argument. “Listen,” he said. “You might not see it, but I do. All of us do, actually. The two of you have been practically joined at the hip these days.” He tilted his head toward Steve’s direction. The man of the hour was talking to Robin at the time, the two of them getting into another one of their half-hearted arguments over something you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You can’t tell me there isn’t something there, babe,” Eddie’s tone now softened. “I see the way you look at him.”

Your lower lip became the punching bag for a barrage of anxious bites as his words echoed in your mind. I see the way you look at him. Was it possible you had feelings for Steve? You continued to watch him as he maneuvered his way through the party, Robin continuing to ramble on as she followed on his coattails. It was almost effortless how he moved, sending smiles to each of the kids as he passed by. They were genuine with their accompanying eye sparkle, something you knew after the hours of late night conversations. 

It was a side effect of Steve realizing he didn’t need to change who he was to be respected by others. Besides his adventures with the kids, he talked a lot about his childhood and what it was like growing up with parents who were more concerned about appearance than their child’s happiness. He shared with you once how he felt being a member of a family meant acting in the world’s longest lasting play. You always had to play the part of the perfect person, he had explained, hiding your imperfections and letting go of the important things everyone else thought were stupid. 

“Ya know,” Steve mentioned at one point, “I think my parents would care less if I came home or not when they’re in town. As long as I was making a name for myself that was…positive and they could compare to some other set of snobs. Not some nobody who makes a lousy four bucks an hour shelving tapes every day.”

It broke your heart to hear his story. “Steve,” you had tried to console. “You’re not a nobody.”

“Not to you, or Henderson,” he relented. “God, I think the kid would probably have a heart attack if I didn’t answer to his every beck and call. Damn kid thinks he’s entitled now.”

You didn’t miss the ghost of a smile that dimly lit up his gaze as he spoke about Dustin. That “damn kid” changed him for the better, you knew Steve was beyond grateful for that. If it wasn’t for Dustin– and Nancy breaking his heart– he could have just been another cog in the corporate machine with wandering eyes. Now he was a man of heart, who valued family no matter what, even if it wasn’t by blood. 

“Hey, Eds?” you asked, eyes still locked onto the back of Steve’s too-tight blue and white rugby shirt. “Think you could give me a hand with something this week?”

The dazzling smile you received in response was more than enough confirmation. “For you, kid? Always.”

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ 

“Eddie, no.”

“But it’s real music!” your best friend argued as he waved the cassette tape in the air rather aggressively. “If you’re going to do this, you may as well culture him with the good stuff while you’re at it.”

“I want him to like it.” You shook your head and plucked the tape from his grasp, setting it back down in its place in the box. “If he blows his eardrums out in the process, I think he’d have a hard time being able to enjoy the rest of it.” 

 The metalhead clutched at his chest dramatically, followed up with a slow flop against his beaten mattress. “You wound me,” he mumbled into the pillows. A second later, he popped back up and leaned over the edge of the mattress. He seemed intent on finding something and soon sat back up with another smaller box clutched in his hands. “Try some of these.”

Intrigued, you frowned and reached for the box. As you lifted the top off, you noticed two tightly packed rows of tapes. You used your fingers to pry one loose and lifted it into the light. A snort escaped you as you read the label. “Blondie?” you asked, tone clearly that of amusement. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and began his own search through the original box of tapes. 

Another laugh sounded from you as you continued to dig through the selection in your lap. “Okay, okay. You have to explain why you, Edward James Munson, have not one, but two ABBA tapes in your possession.” 

“Blame it on Buckley,” he mumbled back in a bitter response. “She showed up one day to show me what she thought was good music. Why people enjoy this shit nowadays is just depressing.”

“Then why do you still have this shit?”

The only answer you received was a bored shrug. “I let you come in here and use my stereo system and go through my music collection to let you make your present for your dream boy-”

“Steve is not my dream boy-”

“Ah bah bah,” Eddie cut you off. “Don’t interrupt the generous man, kid. I give you access to my castle to work on your project for free. It doesn’t mean you get the chance to interrogate me about my collection like some kind of FBI agent.” He flicked two fingers in your general direction. “Make your picks.”

Your eyes drifted back to the box in your lap, a small smile tugging at your lips as you searched. The idea of a mixtape seemed like a good idea at first, but now that you were faced with the difficult decision of what to include on said mixtape, your confidence faltered just a bit. You took a deep breath, eyes closing to help you better concentrate. What was it that you wanted this to say to Steve? 

If you had the opportunity to say anything to the boy you had already bared most of your soul to, what would you say? Your heart rate increased as you thought about the look on his face in your bedroom window, sneaking in to comfort you when you had a nightmare: soft hazel eyes and an even softer smile on lips that would press into your hairline absentmindedly. You would cling onto the boy for dear life, terrified to lose your connection to reality. 

Without even trying, Steve had become your rock– the anchor tethered you from straying too far with your deepest fears. You couldn’t do this without him and, deep down, you hoped he felt the same way about you. Suddenly, everything started to click into place and you knew what you wanted to say. 

You just hoped that you’d be able to find exactly what you were looking for.  

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ 

“You made it!” Robin exclaimed with a cheery smile. She was quick to envelope you into a tight hug. You had to hide the wince that threatened to be revealed when the hard plastic ornaments sewn into her christmas sweater dug into the fabric of your own top. “Are you ready for a good time?”

“That better not mean beer, Buckley,” you chided.

“‘Course not!” your friend beamed. You couldn’t tell if this was just her natural enthusiasm, or if she had already had a couple drinks too many. “We got something much more festive! Jonathan and Argyle made the eggnog!”

You blinked. With the two California boys in charge of the beverages, this would certainly be an interesting evening. “Jonathan and Argyle…made the eggnog?”

“Yep! It’s actually really good.” Robin held out her mug. “Try it! It’ll warm you up really fast!”

“I’m sure.” As you leant forward to take a small sniff, you were instantly greeted by the stench of way too much bourbon. You were taken aback by the dark-nailed hand of a certain metalhead reaching past you for the cup. 

“Well, if you won’t, I will,” he said, knocking back the remaining liquid down into his throat. “Damn, that’s good.”

“RIGHT?!”

“...okay, Robs,” you said as you reached for her arm. “Let’s get you back inside. Maybe find Nance.”

“She’s with Steve,” the short-haired girl slurred. “Talkin’ ‘bout something.” Robin gave a vague gesture toward the living room area, where Steve was currently resting against the doorframe talking to Nancy Wheeler. The two of them were laughing, although you noticed Nancy giving a few concerned looks in Robin's direction.

You couldn’t lie, there was a slight twinge of jealousy in your heart as you witnessed the two of them talking again. Logically, you knew they wouldn’t be getting back together. Nancy had moved on years ago–twice actually– and was finally in a stable relationship with herself. Determined to make a name for herself at Emerson, she took on her independence with pride and was loving her experience. She talked so much about the journalism program that Robin decided to apply and would be joining her the following school year as a communications major. 

You and Steve had a bet that it would only be a matter of time before they would eventually end up together. It was almost an arguable match made in heaven. Robin’s nerves combined with Nancy’s determination…there wouldn’t be anything the two couldn’t do. You just hoped that one day they would see it too. 

As the two of you approached them in the living room, you caught Steve giving you the brightest grin. He held out one of the mugs he had been carrying over to you. When you tried to send him a subtle decline, he merely shook his head. “Not spiked,” he called out over the loud Christmas music blasting through the room. “Brought my own stash since I know you don’t like alcohol.”

You gave him a soft smile as you accepted his offering, lifting the drink to your lips. It was smooth and creamy, with those spicy hints of cinnamon and nutmeg. It reminded you of Christmas from the very first sip. The fact that Steve had remembered about your alcohol aversion made you warmer from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. 

“Awww, aren’t they cute?!” you heard Robin whisper dramatically to Nancy. “I can’t wait until they see-”

“Isn’t it time for the secret Santa?” Nancy interrupted the jittery dirty blonde. 

Completely distracted from her previous statement, Robin nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” she exclaimed. “Can’t forget that! C’mon dinguses.”

As the gift exchange began, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as Steve lifted his gift out of the pile. You had tried to wrap it as neatly as you could, using paper you knew he hadn’t seen at your house before. The whole point of the game was for it to be a secret until the last possible second. How could you possibly eliminate that fun?

When it was your turn to go up, you picked up the package with your name typed– not written– on the card. Someone else seemed very adamant about keeping their identity a secret, too. As you moved back to your seat on the couch, your fingers anxiously fiddled with the neatly tied bow atop the small box. It was beautifully wrapped with blue and white paper, some of your favorite colors. Whoever this person was, they definitely knew you pretty well.

When Robin gave the go ahead, everyone took turns freeing the presents from their papery prisons. You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped you. Tucked inside the box was a cassette with your name on it. As you flipped it over to read the description, a smile graced your lips. It was a collection of some of your favorite songs. There were small marks next to certain songs, which you didn’t understand. Maybe it was your Secret Santa’s favorite, too. 

Looking around the room, you tried to guess who could have gotten you the gift. You knew it wasn’t Eddie, as he had given Dustin one of his original dungeon master journals. It could have been Robin, but she was more enthused with Jonathan’s present of new patches for her denim jacket. You risked a glance over at Steve to gauge his reaction to his gift and your heart stopped in surprise.

He was staring directly at you.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you and tilted his head toward the front door. Can we talk? his eyes asked in a silent question. 

You nodded and immediately went into the hall to grab your coats, shoving the new tape into the garment’s pocket. As you walked outside onto the front porch, Steve didn’t waste any time with what he wanted to say. 

“It was you,” he questioned. “Wasn’t it? You’re my secret Santa.”

You nodded bashfully. “Look, I get that it’s nothing special, but I thought it could be something different.”

“I love it.” Steve took a few steps closer. “I just…I find it funny that even after all this time, we’re still on the same wavelength.” He pointed to your pocket. “Cyndi Lauper, David Bowie, Joan Jett…”

When you looked at him confused, he gave a small smile. “Those are all your favorites. You listen to them all the time when you’re stressed or you can’t sleep.”

“You’re my secret Santa…” it dawned on you slowly. 

Steve blinked. “You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t expect you to know something like that,” you admitted. With some hesitation, you reached into your coat pocket and held out the tape. “What are-”

“The marks?” he asked. “Oh, yeah, I uh, I was wondering if you were going to ask me about that.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “You uh, sometimes when you’re at work, you hum to yourself. They’re mostly the songs on the tape but, you know. Those in particular…well, I like to hear you sing them.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, eyes searching Steve’s. It was almost as though you were looking at him– truly looking at him– for the first time in your lives. There was something hidden behind his gaze. There was a sparkle in them, almost as if he was laughing about an inside joke only he knew. It was mixed with a flicker of something you hadn’t seen before. Nerves? Sadness? Adoration? 

Steve cleared his throat to break the silence. “And, uh, I wouldn’t mind being able to hear you sing them more.”

“So you made me a tape…to hear me sing karaoke?”

“Not…not exactly,” he stammered. “God, am I really not that obvious?”

Confusion struck you again and you tilted your head in silent question. What was he talking about? Now Steve seemed nervous– something you had never seen him be before in the years you had known him. Steve Harrington had confidence, he was cocky; he didn’t get nervous, especially not around you. “Steve, what are you-”

“I love you,” the three words blurted out of his mouth in such a hurry, you had to blink a few times to process the exclamation. “I love you and I’ve been in love with you for a while now. There isn’t anyone else that knows me like you do, who listens– and I mean truly listens– like you do. You don’t judge me, you don’t make me feel like the idiot I totally am.”

He paused for a moment to take both of your hands in his. “When I’m with you, I don’t have to act anymore. I can be myself around you and know that that’s the person I want to be for the rest of my life. You are the person I want to be around for as long as you’ll have me. I love you.”

With the way he was holding you, your body felt warmer than it would with any festive beverage. You weren’t imagining this, were you? Did Steve, the boy you watched from a distance for so long, just say he loved you? “You’re not- this isn’t-” you stammered. “Is this a dream?”

“No, sweetheart,” Steve whispered softly as he took a step closer to you. “It’s real.”

He cradled one of his hands under your chin, tilting his own face to be near your own. The look he gave you asked if this was okay, and somehow you managed the slightest of nods in response. When he slanted his lips over yours, you immediately began to melt into his embrace. You hadn’t dreamed of this moment before, but it still felt like a fairy tale. It was soft and gentle, everything you could have wanted. 

When you finally broke apart, a smile graced upon your lips. “In case it wasn’t completely obvious,” you said. “I love you, too.”

Steve grinned and pulled you in for another kiss. This one was a bit more heated, but it was just enough. To the two of you, nothing else mattered in that exact moment. All that mattered was that you and him were finally happy and you were happy together. 

“Well it’s about time!!” Robin’s voice called out, forcing the two of you to jump apart from each other. You had been so engrossed in the moment, the two of you hadn’t heard the front door open behind you. “Thought you’d never get together. Now can you guys hurry up and come back inside? It’s almost time to eat.” With a huff and a smile, she closed the door with a solid thud, causing the two of you to start laughing.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” you whispered.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replied as he pulled you against him once more so you could walk hand-in-hand back to your family.

================

Author's Note: Merry Christmas Eve to my readers who celebrate the holiday. Can you believe we're almost to the end of Stevemas already?! It's been a crazy two weeks and I really hope you all have enjoyed the (basically) daily uploads. This was a really fun fic to write and I have to give a shoutout to @familyvideostevie for the inspiration after seeing the secret Santa prompt on their 12 days of christmas list. Make sure to check out their works because they're amazing!! I also wanted to do something a little different this time around to make my fics more interactive, so I hope you enjoyed listening to the actual mixtape you made for Steve while you read this story! :)

If you enjoyed this fic and want to see more like it on my blog, make sure to leave a comment, tag a friend, or reblog this post. Likes are appreciated, but it's these other types of interactions that help to spread the word about my works. Not only that, but it helps me feel motivated to keep writing and posting content. If you're interested in getting updates on the final day of Stevemas or any of my other works, maybe consider giving my blog a cheeky follow. I promise I won't spam you too much with other amazing creators' works! :)

Until next time, my little sparks <3

Taglist: @bakerstreethound, @theelmgrove, @maddipoof

[gracegrove]

Idyllic

tw warnings childhood trauma, child abuse, implied child abuse, implied child sexual abuse, blackmail

_________

He was struggling, a half-cocked grin under wiry and unkempt hairs as plain-clothed officers moved his father out the front door. "Billy? You do exactly as they say boy, you hear me?!" he barked, startling the moping child back to reality. A woman moved into the space, her brown paisley dress shifting as she squatted to his eye level.

"Billy?"

The boy looked up through watery eyes, the rhythmic beams of red and blue lighting up his face from the police cruiser parked outside. The woman stretched out her hand to wipe at his cheek, and Billy flinched, his face already bruised and yellowing around the edges from days prior.

"Honey I'm so sorry. We're gonna make this right." She put a hand gently on his shoulder. "We're gonna get you out of here," she promised.

Lounging, head tilted back against the concrete, Neil whistled a long flat tune. He was waiting on the detective to pull his ass out of bed. He continued piping out wistful ditties until a man approached his cell an hour later.

"Name's Detective Kasey, stand away from the bars. Remember that anything you say can be held against you in a court of law..." he droned wearily as he fumbled with a ring of keys.

Neil stood brushing off his wranglers and approaching, as the cell door swung wide and the detective entered. Neil held out his wrists to be cuffed but paused with a visible wrinkle in his nose. "Wait. Kasey? Duke Kasey, from Fresno High Class of '64?"

Neil leaned into the man's space, their eyes locking as the detective looked up at him suspiciously from bushy brows. "Who wants to know?" he inquired.

Pulling his cuffed wrists back, Neil gestured to himself proudly, "Neil. Hargrove. Remember me you sonnuva bitch?"

The detective nodded a fond smile. "Well, you bastard you're in a pickle now. Let's talk."

Coming to the interview room, the men both pulled up a chair, Det. Kasey opened the file sitting on the table. "Let's see what you've gotten yourself into this time heh?" Reclining, he flipped through the file, page by page, the soft expression falling from his face.

Neil sat opposite picking his nail beds clean. "How much's this gonna cost me? Community service? A fine?"

The detective didn't answer, lifting a page over and wincing as he finally reached the section with photographic evidence. "Jesus H. Christ!" he cursed. "This is bad Neil. Real bad. This ain't no pickle."

Neil frowned, resting his arms on the table. "I can't discipline my kid?" He stated calmly.

Kasey pulled a pen from his breast pocket and reached for the tape recorder. Clicking the record button, he stated the date, time, participants, and purpose of the interview.

"Neil Hargrove, are you aware of your rights?" Kasey asked.

"I am," he replied.

"And as previously stated do you hereby waive your right to an attorney?"

"I do. I got nothing to hide." Neil shrugged.

Kasey cleared his throat. "It's alleged that you have been harming your son, William, physically. On multiple occasions. What do you have to say to that?"

Neil looked around the bare room with an air of boredom, "The boy's hard to manage. Gets into trouble an awful lot. School. Home. Fights with neighbor kids." Neil slouched out in his chair, "What am I supposed to do? Someone's gotta raise that boy, teach him right. How to be respectful. Ever since his mother left, he's been an absolute pain in the ass."

"Is that an admission?" Kasey probed, scratching out notes onto a legal pad.

"An admission of being a parent who's trying their damndest? Sure." Neil reasoned. "You would understand..."

Kasey raised an eyebrow, "I don't think I follow."

Neil gave the man a baleful smile, "Your old man really was quite the guy."

Kasey bruskly paused the recording. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Neil leaned in across the table, canines glinting in the low light. "Easy Duke, we're just talking. We're old friends after all, right?"

Kasey scoffed, he and Neil had hardly been what you'd call "friends."

"All I want is this over with," Neil continued, "I need to be home. My boy needs me. And you're gonna help me do that." Neil sniffed.

Kasey closed the casefile, "And why would I help you?"

Neil looked at the other man in mock innocence, "Because I know."

"I know it wasn't an accident."

Kasey's face paled, "And just what would make you think that?"

His voice was dry and wary, as he licked his lips, nervously padding his breast pocket for a carton of cigarettes. Lighting it, he took a deep drag.

"My old man had a bad habit of mixing booze and cigarettes. The whole house went up."

Neil leaned over the table, snatching the cigarette with a cuffed hand and smirking. "He also had a habit of keeping you around when Mommy was outta town..." Neil chuckled darkly.

"You sonnuva bitch" Kasey snarled, fingers curling into fists. "I don't have to listen to another word of this shit!" He pushed his chair gruffly away from the table, coming around and grabbing Neil roughly by the collar.

"Up! Your ass is going back where it belongs!" Kasey growled.

Gingerly holding the cigarette with his bound hands, Neil casually blew out, "I'm sure your Chief would be interested to hear about all the 'quality time' you spent with Daddy. All the -" He took another drag. "love you two shared. The hammer you buried with his blood -"

Kasey's grip slipped on him, dropping him askew in his seat. Leaving Neil to reseat himself.

Kasey loosened his tie, a visible sweat covering his face and dampening his shirt. "Wha-what hammer?"

Neil laughed, "Oh come on Dukey boy! The one I saw you bury beneath the dogwood by your toolshed. The one I dug up..."

Kasey swallowed on thinning air. "You ha-?" Neil nodded. "Yeah. I do." Kasey came back around and slumped into his seat, the chair groaning across the linoleum floor.

Moments passed in slience, marked by the monotonous ticking of the clock in the room. "So, here's what we're gonna do Duke." Neil stated resolutely as he ashed his cig on the table top. "You're gonna make this go away. And then I in my gratitude to you, will leave and never return. How's that sound?"

The detective nodded his head numbly. "That's a boy."

_______

"I don't know what more we can do Marsha," the man said from his seat at the kitchen table.

Marsha was putting the finishing touches on dinner as they spoke.

"Henry, we have to keep trying," she said gently.

"Marsha," Henry pushed, "How much is there even left to try? He's fighting at school again. He's angry about everything. He never lets us help him. How can we help Billy when he's like this?"

He was exasperated, rubbing a hand over his forehead, his wife giving him a supportive pat on the back.

The foster parents that Billy had been living with over these past few months were reaching their wit's end. They tried their best, welcoming him with open arms. They were very kind, but when Billy rebuffed them and avoided them they were hurt and confused.

Just then a little boy ran in the kitchen door crying. "Ma! Ma!" Marsha pulled him into to her side, thumbing at his tear-wet face. "What's wrong Sam?" "B-Billy..." he blubbered out before tumbling into tears again.

Henry shot Marsha a look. Marsha sighed, ushering the boy to sit at the kitchen table, as she went out the kitchen door to find Billy.

"Billy!? Billy?!?!" Marsha called as she entered the yard. "Come here please, we have to talk." Looking around she spotted him hiding behind the large trunk of the oak tree.

"Billy...." she sighed in disappointment as she approached. "What did you do to Sam?"

"Go away!" Billy yelled, tucking himself further behind the tree.

"I'm not going away Billy we have to talk." Marsha pushed.

"No!" Billy yelled, running from behind the tree to find a new place to hide.

Marsha reached out, grabbing Billy and wrapping him up in her arms. "Stop running Billy. You're in big trouble!"

"NO! NO! NO! NO! LET GO! LET GO!" Billy screamed. He began kicking violently, throwing his head back and hitting Marsha in the chest.

"Billy stop!" Marsha groaned, tightening her grip.

"Noooooo!" Billy bellowed, flailing and fighting even harder. Digging his heel harshly into her shin, Marsha yelped and let go, Billy running free.

He fled from the yard and was out of sight. Throwing open the kitchen door Henry looked at Marsha, "You wanna go after him?" Marsha shook her head vigorously, catching her breath. "No."

The doorbell rang. The couple composed themselves and came to the door. "Can we help you?"

The man smiled, "Good afternoon, I'm Neil Hargrove. I'm here to get my son."

[alchemistdetective]

"Thank you all very much for coming! Hope to see you all next time!"

Fairy Tail Cafe

It was a small, humble cafe located at the base of a Youkai Mountain, and as the name suggests, it's run by... a fairy. And in this humble cafe, sometimes there are tons of customers, sometimes there are close to none.

"Sigh..."

Today is the latter, due to a certain individual in the premise.

"... Another beer, please."

And like every good cafe, it has a TV connected into the internet for the guests to watch. Today's channel follows a certain white kitsune on stage, Shirakami Fuyuki.

Flan knows her. Very well, in fact.

Shirakami Fuyuki, also known as Eri Philomele. High School by day, Idol by night. Loved by all, multi-talented.. it's like he's just superior in... everything, compared to her.

And the only person in the other side of the counter, is...

"Do you want to talk about it? You have been doing nothing but sighing while drinking beer for the past hour."

Crescent, music fairy, fire fairy, or hell fairy, depending on who you ask. Regardless, the fairy's going to comply to her request and open up another beer from the keg.

Sliding that drink to her, the vampire continued to drink her cup. A good drinker, especially when she's deep in thought.

"... It's just about what I talked about before, Crescent. Even if I'm the little sister, even if I'm a vampire... I just... don't feel like I fit in. Remi tries to hide it, but I know she wants her sister back, Sakuya is doing her best to make me feel at home, although even I can't tell if she's doing it because I'm 'Flandre Scarlet', or because I'm... me, Eliza feels like she puts me on such a high pedastral at times that I feel like I may let her down, it's just... overwhelming."

"I told you this before, but with time and Eri was in my body permenantly, everyone would be far more accepting to him than... me."

Her eyes were fixed on the screen, the white kitsune idol waving to her fans, laughing, rallying everyone up...

... Which the blonde fairy gave nothing but a sigh, turning the TV off.

"I don't care about how good Eri is in ''replacing'' you, nor can I comment about whether that's true or not. I'm not your sister, Sakuya, or Eliza. But do you think what she's doing is out of obligation to you as you being her sister, or because she truly cares about you?"

"I..."

The vampire sister could do nothing but look at her cup of alcohol, trying to think of words to say.

"... I was similar to you once. Hell fairy, raised in the flames of battle. Even now, I'm still struggling to find a place among other fairies. But I'm thankful to just find a few people to be wit-"

"Cress! I'm going to take Steve out for a walk! We're going to play fetch!"

"STEVE IS NOT A DOG, PUT HIM BACK IN THE BOX"

Ah, usual cafe shenanigans. Crescent's going to clear her throat for a bit, before reaching to a notebook placed at the opposite desk. Ripping out a page from it, she gave that blank piece of paper to Flandre.

"Ahem... anyways. What I want you to do, Flan, is that in your next cafe visit, write down the people who you think are the closest to. Those will be the only people that matter to you."

"You don't need everyone's approval of being the 'ideal vampire sister', Flan. Just the people who loves you for who you are. Cast that paranoia aside, and sincerely think about it. Alright?"

Flandre could do nothing but stare at the blank piece of paper, before folding it and putting it into her skirt pocket.

"... I'm not sure how far I'll go, but I'll try. Let me finish this up, then I'll pay, Cress. Thanks."

"Don't worry. And about Eri? Stop thinking about him. People love you because you're you. They don't want Eri acting as Flan, they want you. Even if he's somehow the perfect Flandre, no matter how good he acts, the original is what people want at the end of the day."

"Besides... the grass is greener on the other side. Good luck."

[starlitangels]

The High School Years

@darlin-collins Here’s the thing I mentioned I should write in that little exchange we had! 4.3k words I gave Guy a last name and I gave him a last name that I thought was funny because it’s meta

—

Freshman Year

“Now, this is what’s considered a ‘plot hole,’ but it’s important to bear in mind that when it comes to fictional narratives, nothing is ever going to be a perfectly-constructed story. There are always going to be holes. Just like there are in real life.”

Guy snickered and leaned over to Geordi. “That’s what she said,” he muttered.

Geordi rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the snort.

Mrs. Hensler narrowed her eyes. “Guy Erikson, if you don’t stop, I’m going to have to separate you and Geordi.”

Guy curled his shoulders forward. “Sorry, Mrs. Hensler,” he said.

The English teacher sighed and turned back to the board. “However,” she continued lecturing, “This isn’t exactly a plot hole if you know what to look for. So, your main assignment for class today is to use the critical thinking skills we’ve gained from our readings this year and work with your table and figure out how that hole is not actually a hole at all.”

Guy sputtered and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Which made Geordi start laughing at him.

Mrs. Hensler sighed. “Guy. Geordi. Opposite corners of the room,” she said, pointing to each of them and then their new seat in turn. Geordi didn’t complain as he scooped up his binder and backpack and moved to the table in the back corner of the room. Guy lolled his head back with a dramatic sigh before going to the table directly in front of Mrs. Hensler’s desk. Which only ever had one other occupant.

“Hi,” he said, dropping into the seat across the circular table from them. “I’m Guy.”

They grunted.

Mrs. Hensler eyed Guy with annoyance in her face, before turning back to the room. “You have until the last ten minutes of class to work on this with your table. Then we’ll present your findings,” she announced, and went to sit at her desk.

—

I pulled a piece of paper out of my binder and a pen, ignoring the newcomer to my table completely as I flipped open our book.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the newcomer said. He wasn’t tall—compared to me, anyway—and he was skinny and blond.

“Nope,” I replied.

“I’m Guy,” he repeated.

“Said that already.”

“Yeah. And you didn’t give me your name. So I’m giving you mine again,” he said. He put a lot of excessive inflection into his words. “And I’m gonna keep giving you mine until you give me yours.”

I blinked at my paper, reining in my temper, and grunted. I wasn’t stupid. I knew why Hensler put him at my table. No one ever sat near me. I was quiet. I tended to be grumpy. A lot of my classmates found me intimidating. Especially considering I was tall and muscular for a high schooler. I was one of the people that even the jarheaded jocks knew better than to mess with.

“C’mooon,” Guy groaned. “You can at least give me your name.”

“I take it you don’t pay attention during roll call?”

He puckered his lips, pretending to think. “No.”

I grunted again. “Didn’t think so.”

Scribbling some notes from where I’d put a sticky note as a bookmark in my book, I continued to ignore the intruder at my table.

“Have I seen you somewhere before? I mean, besides just this class?” he asked.

“We’ve gone to the same school since middle school.” I made another note on my lined piece of paper. “We just don’t run with the same crowd.”

“Do you run with any crowd at all?”

I growled in frustration and slammed my pen down on the table. “Do you ever shut up? I’m trying to get this assignment done. I don’t need a social visit distracting me.”

“I meeeaaannn… we’re supposed to be working together.” He gave me a bounce of his eyebrow. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Hey, if you don’t wanna be my friend, that’s fine. I get it,” he said, voice going higher-pitched—and cracking like he hadn’t finished puberty yet (wouldn’t surprise me). “But we are supposed to work together.”

“Hm.” I flipped a few pages and made some more notes.

“Have I offended you or are you always like this?”

“Always.”

“Why?”

“Easier.”

Guy sighed dramatically, throwing his head back, and leaned back in his chair. “This is like talking to a brick wall!” he complained.

“Then stop talking and read,” I snapped.

Guy lowered his head to look at me out of the corner of my eye. “I still don’t know your name.”

“Great.”

“If you don’t give it to me I’m gonna start calling you a nickname.”

“That’d certainly be a first. No one calls me anything.”

He put his elbows on the table and braced his chin in both hands, lips puckered again in thought. I glanced up, briefly met his eyes, and then looked back down at my piece of paper. His eyes were a greenish-blue and framed with long, dark gold lashes.

And I hated my teenage hormones for the way my heart stuttered when I met his eyes. Why is he cute? I thought grumpily.

He giggled.

“What?” I grumbled. “What are you smiling at?”

“We’re gonna be friends,” he declared.

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t want to be friends with me. I’m no fun.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone.”

“I think you’re fun!”

I shot him a look with narrowed eyes. “You literally just said talking to me was like talking to a brick wall.”

“Well… yeah. But I think you’re gonna be soft and sweet on the inside!”

I full-on glared at him. “Try me, Erikson,” I snapped.

He raised a brow. “At least let me buy you dinner first.”

I slammed my pen down again. “That’s it,” I growled. “Say something like that again, and you’ll be going to the nurse’s office with a concussion.”

Guy just winked.

I had to commend his audacity, if nothing else.

“Anyway, we’re totally gonna be friends.”

I rolled my eyes. “Get reading,” I ordered.

“Tell me your name first.”

I snorted. “I’ll tell you when you earn it.”

“Fiiine.” He hunched over his book.

I started to write my notes in blissful silence, ignoring the light chatter of the other groups. My table was usually empty, so table activities tended to just be me. Unless a teacher was particularly mean and made me join another table.

After a moment, my pen stilled on my page. “Hey,” I said softly. Guy looked up. “Wh… why…” I huffed in frustration. I’d never been great with talking to people. “This is an honors class. I’ve graded your quizzes before. You do well. You talk with big words and you usually use them correctly. So why do you act like such an idiot?”

Guy gaped at me, like he hadn’t realized I was paying attention. To be honest, I hadn’t meant to. It was just a recurring pattern I’d noticed.

He shut his mouth and shrugged. “Being serious and mature is boring,” he said.

“Maybe there’s something to be admired in that,” I said to myself.

If Guy heard me, he didn’t respond.

—

Sophomore Year

I stood in the back of the auditorium, leaned against the wall with my arms crossed. Assemblies were stupid and I hated them.

A blond head of messy hair sidled up beside me. “Psst!” Guy hissed, looking up at me. “Bored?”

“Unbelievably.”

He held a hand out. “Come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know a way to make you un-bored.” He grinned mischievously at me. “C’mon!”

I planted my hand on top of his. “Fine,” I grumbled.

Snickering like a gremlin, Guy dragged me to one of the side-doors to the auditorium. He waited and peeked around to check for nosy teachers and then opened the door. We both slipped through.

We ran down the abandoned hallway and out the door to the music wing, spilling us out into the parking lot. “Heh-heh-heh!” Guy exclaimed. “They never watch the band room doors!”

He pulled me along to a beat-up red sedan. “Come on! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” He bounced excitedly as he fumbled with a set of keys, jammed one in the passenger door lock, and unlocked the car. He opened the door for me and waved me in.

“Where are we going?”

“Ice creeeaaam!” He shut the door and ran around the car to get in the driver’s seat.

I snorted. “The last thing you need is more sugar, Erikson.”

“I know. But it’s delicious.”

I snorted as I sorted through my backpack. I swore under my breath. “I don’t have my wallet. A friend picked me up this morning so I didn’t think to bring it.”

Guy blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry about it. I’m buying.”

“Erikson—”

“What? It was my idea! I should be buying.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

He shrugged. “Too bad.”

“Have you even had your license long enough for you to have friends in the car? You have to have had it for six months if there isn’t someone over twenty-one in the passenger seat.”

“I’ve had it for six months as of last week,” Guy informed me matter-of-factly. Still grinning like a madman.

He drove us to the diner up the road from West Dahlia High and hopped out. 

“Don’t get out! I’m getting your door,” he said as I froze with my hand on the handle. I rolled my eyes and got out of the car on my own. “Awww. C’moon! I was gonna be a gentleman! Why must you spoil my chivalry?”

“Stop being dramatic and get in the diner,” I snapped, waving him toward the doors.

He held his hand out for me, that mischievous look on his face.

I took it with a dramatic sigh and let him drag me inside.

We ordered and found a small corner table to sit and eat our ice cream at.

Guy talked with his hands and always had a smile on his face. He was exuberant and funny, never taking my attitude personally.

Last year, he’d declared that we’d be friends. This year, I was begrudgingly accepting to myself that we were.

Especially when he gesticulated so wildly that he knocked his cup of ice cream over, spilling the melted goop gathering at the bottom all over the table. He swore and scrambled to clean it up, apologizing profusely to the staff. I just watched, keeping my spoon firmly in my mouth to hide my smile.

He was still cute, and I still hated myself for thinking so.

—

Junior Year

Guy stared shamelessly at me, slack-jawed, as I pulled into the parking stall next to his and swung my leg off my motorcycle while killing the engine. “Since when do you have your motorcycle license?”

I pulled my helmet off and snorted. “Got it over the summer. Been saving up for a bike since I was thirteen. Always knew I wanted one.”

Guy blinked several times. “I think watching you get off that thing is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Erikson.”

“No, no. I’m serious. Dead serious. That was hot.”

“Get in the school before you say something even stupider.” I tucked my keys in my pocket and clipped my helmet to my backpack strap before marching toward the school entrance.

Guy stumbled after me after a moment, tripping on his own toes. He was getting taller, but still shorter than me.

I slung an arm around his shoulders and yanked him to my side, giving him a noogie. “You ever gonna fill out or are you gonna have twig limbs forever?” I asked, smirking while Guy tried—and failed—to get out of my grip.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he protested. “I am what’s called a late bloomer. So I'm going to look young for a long time. You’ll be jealous when we’re fifty and I still look thirty!”

I snorted. “No. When we’re fifty, I will still look thirty. You will look like you’re twelve, at this rate.”

“You are so mean!”

I just laughed and let him go in order to open the door to the school. I let him pass through it first before ducking inside myself.

“Okay, but seriously,” Guy said, not sounding serious at all, “why are you so resistant to me acknowledging how hot you were getting off that bike?”

With an exaggerated eye-roll, I pulled the leather motorcycle jacket that I’d also recently bought off as we went to our lockers and didn’t reply, just putting my combination in and opening the door. I hung the jacket up on one of the coat hooks inside, my helmet on the other. In the corner of my eye, Guy was actually trying to be subtle for once as his eyes slowly traveled up my body and he looked away when I started to turn toward him to shut my locker door. But as I looked away, he resumed right where he left off.

“Did you grow even more over the summer?” he complained.

I laughed and leaned against the lockers. “Guy, we established two years ago that you’re never gonna get taller than me.”

He pouted dramatically. “I might!”

I snorted. “You won’t.” I licked and bit my lower lip, ignoring Guy looking me up and down again. “So how was your summer? Enjoy your time back in Maine with your… aunt and uncle, was it?”

“Yeah. It was fun. Missed the group and all the dumb stuff we get up to but I liked hanging out with my family for a couple months. Next summer they wanna take me to New York. A last hurrah before my senior year of high school.”

“Sounds fun.” I nodded.

He gestured for me to follow him with a wave as the warning bell rang. “C’mon. Walk me to class.”

“Why?”

“Becaaauuussseee! You’re my best friend and your class is close to miiinnne!”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Fine. Today only since it’s the first day of school. After that, you’ll have to get lost by yourself.”

“I’m not gonna get lost! I spent two whole years here!”

“And I still get texts from you every couple weeks, ‘Heeelp! I’m by room three-oh-two and don’t know how to get back to the band room!’ like a child.” My Guy impression was pretty good after two years.

He sighed. “Pleeease?”

“I’m already walking with you, moron.”

He perked up. “Yay!”

The day crawled by, and at the end of it, I was leaning against my bike in the parking lot, waiting for Guy to get to his sedan.

“Get on,” I said, holding out my spare helmet that had been tucked in the under-seat storage compartment. “We’re going for a ride.”

“Uh… I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He took the helmet anyway.

“Scared, Erikson?” I swung my leg over the bike, noting Guy’s eyes quickly sweep the length of my leg as I did so.

“No! I’m… apprehensive.”

“Which is another way of saying you’re scared. Hop on.”

Guy put his backpack—and mine—in the passenger seat of his sedan and very carefully climbed onto the back of my bike. “Wh… where are the handles for me? Under the seat?” He clicked the helmet into place.

“Sure but they suck. Geordi tried ‘em and about fell off last week before you got back from Maine. Put your arms around my waist and hold on tight.”

Apparently, Guy didn’t need to be told twice. He wrapped his arms around me as I turned over the engine.

I pulled my helmet on, put up the kickstand, and back-walked out of the parking stall.

“Hold on, Erikson!” I called.

“What? Wh-why-AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

I laughed as I tore out of the parking lot and down the road. Guy’s grip around my waist tightened to the point where it almost distracted me. But I managed to keep my focus on the road and driving.

We went around the neighborhood, not going for too far or for too long. Guy slowly relaxed enough to stop screaming directly in my ear, and actually started laughing. I smiled behind the tinted visor of my helmet. He was so cute. Not that I’d ever admit it to his face or anything—I couldn’t imagine how insufferable he’d get if I did—but I could think it if I wanted.

Guy’s arms, twiggy and skinny though they were, were stronger than I expected. But there was comfort in having them around my waist. Guy Erikson was the only person who was gentle with me all the time. Including my family. He never shouted. He never got violent. He’d rather give me a hug than a friendly punch to the shoulder. He was the only one who saw past the rough-and-tough exterior I put on like armor. He wasn’t intimidated by or scared of me ever.

And I more than appreciated him for it.

I stopped in the hills outside of Dahlia on the north side of town. It looked out over the whole city. “Hey Erikson. Check it out,” I said, killing the engine and hitting the kickstand into place with my foot but not yet leaning the bike on it.

Guy took in the view. “Wow,” he said, yanking the helmet off. “This is beautiful.”

His eyes flicked over to me on the last word. I pretended not to notice.

The same way I pretended I wasn’t looking at him instead of the view as we both dismounted the bike. Dorky, nerdy beanpole who I could throw over my shoulder like nothing—who had somehow become my best friend. The first friend I’d really made in years. The only one who stuck around. Who thought I was worth spending time with. Geordi had been added to the list not long after by proximity, but Guy was the first. He was the only person I wanted to share things with. Good news and bad, I always thought of telling Guy first. 

All summer, he greeted me with a “good morning” text. And even if we didn’t send a single other text to each other all day, I’d still get a “goodnight” before he went to bed.

I swallowed down all the words I wanted to say. The ones bubbling up in my throat. I like you, Guy. More than I’ve ever liked anyone else. Please stay in my life forever. In whatever form that takes. Now wasn’t the time. It never seemed like it was the time.

“C’mon, Erikson. Let’s get you back to your car so your parents don’t flip about where you’ve been.”

“I mean. If you follow me home…” He put his tongue between his teeth as he grinned. “We can show them why I was home late!”

“If you want.”

“Will your parents care?”

I leveled a look at him and he shut his mouth. “My parents would neither care nor notice if I vanished for a week until the school called them to say I had three unexcused absences,” I grumbled.

“Okay. Theeennn… let’s go!”

I smirked and climbed back on the bike. Smirking a little to myself at the way Guy’s eyes focused quite squarely on my backside as I swung my leg over it. “Get on, you pervert,” I teased.

“What if I’d rather get you off?” he asked suggestively.

“Do you want me to leave you out here in the middle of nowhere so the forest ghosts can come get you?”

“There are no forest ghosts, you goof,” Guy joked as he climbed on behind me.

“There are too,” I retorted sarcastically, not actually believing my own words. “That house like a mile back from here is totally haunted.”

“Just because it’s kinda overgrown doesn’t mean it’s haunted.”

“They say the guy who disappeared the day Surge broke when we were kids over at Wonder World lives there,” I teased.

Guy just snorted. “Yeah right.”

“You know I’m just messing with you, Erikson.”

“I know.”

“Ready to go?”

“Ready!”

I gunned the engine and we tore down the road back toward Dahlia.

—

Senior Year

“Honeeey! I’m hooome!” Guy called as he threw open the door to my parents’ house. I jolted and jumped up from where I’d been sitting on the floor in my bedroom, running out of the room and thanking the whims of the universe for my parents not being home.

“Since when are you back from New York?!” I shouted as I ran for the stairs.

When I reached the top of them, I froze, looking down at the entrance hall.

Guy had finally filled out. He was still skinny and a couple inches shorter than me, but his shoulders were broader and he actually had muscles. His favorite T-shirt was stretched tighter across his chest than it had ever been and I couldn’t help but stare for a moment at the lines of strain in the fabric.

I shook myself out of it and bolted down the stairs. Nearly tackling him with the force of the impact when I slammed him into a hug. I buried my face into where his shoulder met his neck and fought back tears.

“You’re home,” I said softly.

“Awww. Did you miss me?” he teased.

I shoved him away from me. “Never mind. Go back to New York.”

“Nooo… don’t push me away—I miiiiissed you! Ihaven’tseenyouforthreemooonths! Pleeease?”

He held his arms out and wiggled his fingers.

I sighed and went back to hugging him. “Fine. You train wreck.”

“Excited for school to start next week? Our last year!”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He nuzzled his face against the side of my head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I grumbled.

“Wanna go get some pizza?”

I took a deep breath. “... Sure.”

“Great! I’m driving. And then you’re gonna stay the night at my place.”

“Why?”

“How long have you been upstairs in your room?”

“Shut up.”

“Your family’s fighting again, aren’t you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“No. But you’re my best friend. And if that means dragging you away from a bad day, then that’s what I’m gonna do. Now come on. I’m hungry and I want pizza. Specifically, I want pizza with you.”

I let him drag me outside and to his beat-up red sedan. He opened the door for me as he always did before getting in himself.

“So,” he said as he turned over the engine. “I had a lot of time to think while I was in New York.”

“That sounds bad for you,” I said flatly.

“Shut up!” he protested even as he laughed. “As I was saying. I did a lot of thinking. And…” He cleared his throat, waiting at the bottom of the driveway for the road to be clear. “And… and, uh…”

“What is it, Erikson?” I prompted, as surly as usual.

“I missed you, okay?” Guy exclaimed.

“We’ve established that. Back in the house.”

“No. I… I mean… dammit. Just. Come here.” Keeping the car stationary at the bottom of the driveway, he let go of the wheel, grabbed me, pulled me closer to him—

And planted a full kiss on my mouth.

I’d never understood the rom-com teen movie junk about feeling or seeing fireworks when someone kissed you—

Until right then, as the whole universe seemed to click into place. Like the answer to every internal conflict I had was resolved in an instant.

Still, as Guy pulled back, my eyes were wide in surprise.

“Look, I know you don’t feel the same about me. You’ve said before that you’re not really the type to fall in love and I know that—but I’ve liked you for years and I couldn’t stop thinking about you all summer and there was this moment when I was on the ferry with my aunt and uncle and cousins and we were going to the Statue of Liberty where I just really wanted to have you with me, holding my hand and I just—mmph!”

I cut him off by dragging him into another kiss, shoving one hand into his thick blond hair and twisting my fingers around his waves.

After a moment, he sighed and leaned into it.

“I… I really like you too, Guy,” I whispered breathlessly, barely brushing his lips with mine. “And I missed you so much while you were gone. It was way too quiet here without you.” I kissed him again.

He blinked at me. “I think that’s the first time you’ve called me by just my first name.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled.

“Do we… wanna skip the pizza and just go straight to my parents’ place?” Guy asked.

As if in response, my stomach grumbled.

“Never mind then,” Guy decided. “We’re getting pizza first.”

He righted himself in the driver’s seat—looking a little dazed—swallowed, and finally was able to turn onto the road.

I slouched down in my seat. “What… what does this make us?” I asked quietly.

“Well… I was hoping it meant I get to introduce myself as your boyfriend now.”

“Okay,” I agreed. Maybe a little too quickly.

“Wait—really?!” He perked up, lighting up like a chandelier.

I sighed in exasperation. “Just… don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t! You won’t! I’m gonna be the best boyfriend ever!”

Impulsively, I leaned across the front seat bench and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. He squeaked and turned bright red. “I’m glad you’re home, Guy.”

He shot me a quick look, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “Glad to be home, uhhh… honey!”

“We’ll have to workshop your pet names later, you moron,” I muttered.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Hello Quil!

I am here to finally tell you about the book I mentioned before that I think you might like. I have essentially needed to obsess over this book for months because I have to write a very long essay about it, so I have a lot of thoughts and hopefully you will enjoy some of them. 

The book is The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin. You might have heard of it before, or maybe even read it, since I saw you reblogging a post about Le Guin a few months ago, but since you have not brought it up I’m just going to tell you about it and hope you will be interested! :)

To start, the book has this really interesting format where most of the chapters are the story narrated by the main characters, but every so often they’ll be a folktale from one of the cultures which relates to the story in an interesting way and really shows off the world building. 

As for the plot, the book is about this guy called Genly Ai who’s a representative of “the Ekumen”, which is kind of like the UN but for space, and he’s trying to get these people on a planet called Gethen to join so they can all benefit from trade. 

Two important things about Gethen:

It’s super cold there. A ton of the world is just ice sheets, and then there’s a small inhabitable section of land. This actually has some cool effects on their culture, like the fact that a ton of people use sledges, or that there’s literally dozens and dozens of words for different types and textures of snow (I thought you would like that part when I read it)

Almost everyone who lives there is androgynous. They don’t really have concepts of “opposite” sexes or genders except for animals, which are sexually dimorphic. So basically everyone is intersex and non-binary, which is pretty forward-thinking for a book written in 1969. 

The gender thing is pretty interesting, but my favorite parts of the book were the politics and the interpersonal relationships. I don’t want to spoil too much of the book if you haven’t read it, but there’s a lot of interesting political intrigue bits and towards the end two characters form a really close relationship which was fascinating to read about. 

Also this book just has really good world building. With the descriptions they gave I felt like it could actually be an alien world with its own culture and ways of life. All of the places had pretty awesome names, too. 

I think one of my favorite parts about this book is the narration, though, because the way the narrator talks about stuff is actually kind of funny, without really trying to be? Like there’s this one point where he’s running away from a burning village but talks about it so nonchalantly that it took me a whole page to realize he was actually running away from a burning village? He’s also a really bad judge of character but you don’t realize this until like halfway through the book, at which point it sort of becomes dramatic irony and I found it kind of entertaining?

Also this book uses the misunderstanding trope in a way that actually makes a lot of sense and it’s very cathartic when the characters finally understand each other, so that’s awesome. 

Anyway, I’ve been talking about this book for a while and I should probably wrap up but I guess I’ve just had a lot of thoughts, which makes sense given that I’ve had to think about a book that I actually love for months for a school assignment. I hope you read this book and enjoy it! 

I’m doing well (just helped to crowdsource a speech and I’m now on a not-field-trip and listening to random acoustic performances.) I hope you’re having a good day too!

- Amethyst

~

Hello Amethyst!! This is actually a little wild, because while I haven’t read the book myself, I have already (fairly recently) received an incredibly enthusiastic endorsement for the book from a classmate and I’ve read a short story set in its world about kemmer (i forget how to spell it). My fantasy class read it for gender week!

I’m always a sucker for worldbuilding, though. love hard/high fantasy. the more complex and confusing, the more I fall in love. i want to know the methods and frequency of food transportation across and between countries <33

I gotta admit though, I do think when I get around to it that the planet being named Gethen will throw me off for a little bit. I’ll just keep thinking of a cryptic blond guy in spandex jogger shorts. but!! you’re absolutely right I do love the language detail! reminds me of a project i did once that (anecdotally) showed how the vocabulary of a language reflects its location/culture.

okay, I went to find the title of the piece I read. it’s called “coming of age in karhide” by sov thade tage em ereb, of rer, in karhide, on gethen. so I am familiar, at least through that, of kinda how the gender and sex work on gethen! though I didn’t understand that in karhide on gethen part of the subtitle until now, since I didn’t know gethen was a planet. and I agree it’s quite fascinating. apparently the inspiration for creating the system was because le guin wanted to be able to write the sentence “the king was pregnant.” and while there are easier ways to get there (transgenderism), she did achieve that.

political intrigue!! love when we get to explore the political systems of the fantasy cultures and they have impact on the story. though sometimes it can get overbearing. there’s a balance, as with everything. side note: love the incorporation of politics in the lady trend memoirs. they’re tied to everything because the structure of the world shapes how you can act and move in it, but it doesn’t overtake the mc’s passions and focuses.

and of course the funny narrator is always a bonus. especially when its done well. i read a book the other day called the similars that had a pretty classic teenage nihilism kind of humor, and it wasn’t great (the book as a whole, but I knew that going in), but it was startling in a fun way to get to like page two and see, “Grasping for some semblance of order, I began naming my different moods. For example: ‘A Zombie Just Ate My Body,’ which is like being frostbitten and stun-gunner and about 94 percent dead inside. At least that one is bearable, unlike ‘Get That Serrated Knife Out Of My Chest,’ which is as painful as it sounds.”

ough the misunderstanding/miscommunication trope, the bane of my existence. it can be done really well, it just can also be done really really bad and when it’s bad? infuriating. being misunderstood/misjudged is one of my least favorite things irl. i don’t know why, it just sets off this like visceral frustration and need to correct it

anyway! i fully intend to read this book someday! I actually had meant to pick it up a few months ago, but it wasn’t where it should’ve been at the bookstore, and I was sneaking in a trip between other things to pick up a specific book for my dad’s birthday, so I didn’t have time to stop and look more thoroughly unfortunately.

i’m glad you’re doing well! i’m like a week late on this one, but i’m also alright--officially done with the semester. which is nice because no more schoolwork for a while. but also weird because I. am a very well trained worker who now needs to figure out what to do with myself in the absence of assignments. i’ve just been reading so far, but i’ll have to figure something out or i’ll lose my mind a little :)

[rodionray]

What is John silent about?

The bell rang, and a young girl rushed into the cafe. She immediately took a table and signaled the waiter.

"Mary?" the waiter exclaimed joyfully.

"John! What a coincidence! How many years has it been since I visited our town? Sit with me!"

"Yes, it's me," John smiled and sat opposite Mary. "The last time we saw each other was at graduation! How's your studies at the School of Arts?"

"In six months, my studies will be over! I don't want to jinx it, but my teacher promised to arrange some film auditions for me this year!"

"I'm so happy for you! You've always wanted this!"

"Want to hear something? Remember our graduation? Someone put an envelope with a large sum of money and a cut-out cover of the book 'Truth about Forever' by Sarah Dessen in my bag? Everyone knew that playing the lead role in the movie adaptation of that book was my dream! And everyone knew I couldn't afford the tuition! But no one ever confessed to the act! I left for New York without knowing the name of the person who gave me that chance. Well, finally, I found out who it was!"

"Really? Who was it?" John adjusted his glasses with thick lenses.

"Our classmate, Bobby! Three years ago, we accidentally met in New York. Turns out he's studying at the business school in the neighboring district! He invited me on a date and told me about his noble gesture! Unbelievable, John! Do you believe in destiny? Maybe, that's what it is! We got married a week ago! Oh..." Mary blushed, "I hope your high school feelings for me have cooled off by now? It's been a long time..."

"Of course, Mary. I'm so happy for you both," John smiled.

"And what about you? Are you not studying anywhere?" she asked, looking at his apron.

"I'm planning to. I think I'll work for another year and save up the necessary amount for tuition."

"But as far as I remember, you had money..."

"Yes, but life is a strange thing; you can find yourself in a predicament..."

"Too bad, really too bad. I'll have a coffee and a double Big Mac, John."

The guy took the order and returned to work. Ten minutes later, she left, bidding him farewell with just a smile and the jingle of the bell. That evening, the television in his house was silent, the radio wasn't playing, and the laptop was asleep. John sat at the table, and his hands instinctively reached for the bookshelf. He took out a book without a cover, placed it on the table, and put on his glasses. Pulling out a bookmark, John opened the book to the most worn-out page: "I must admit, unrequited love is much better than the real thing. I mean, it's perfect... Until something hasn't even started, you don't have to worry about it ending. It has endless potential."

[l-sincline]

Girlish Whimsy - Chapter 3

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AO3 tags: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types, Ootori Kyouya/Original Female Character(s), Ootori Kyouya, Suoh Tamaki, Original Characters, Original Female Characters, Morinozuka Takashi, Haninozuka Mitsukuni, Fujioka Haruhi, Hitachiin Hikaru, Hitachiin Kaoru, Slow Burn, Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, smart people that arent smart about romance, Oblivious, Battle of Wits, Ouran High is one giant social chess game

Asuka has her eyes on the prize as soon as she steps foot on Ouran High School grounds. Her goal? Impress her father enough to convince him to let her remain as heir to the company instead of handing the title down to her younger brother. She knows going to school at Ouran will be one big chess game, especially coming in late at her second year- but she’s up for any challenge.

Asuka finds herself intrigued by the Host club and the inner workings of it. More than that, she sees untapped opportunities to grow her resume. Now all she needs is a partner on the inside who’s equally as motivated, and he was easier to find than she thought.

She hadn’t had to look very far to find the names of the rest of the hosts. A simple ask to Mayu and she rambled about them for quite awhile. It had worked– she was enticed. What Asuka had gotten stumped on, however, was the fact that the Ootori boy was not club president. Rather, the son of the school’s chairman– Tamaki Suoh– was. From everything Asuka could see, the pair were polar opposites. She’d gone back a few more times to observe while Mayu had fun- indulging in the tea and snacks so as to not seem like a loiterer, but never meeting with any of the hosts. Kyouya did not talk to her again after that first day, but she did notice that he and Tamaki were in her class. 

“Are you coming?” Mayu asked, standing above Asuka’s desk.

Asuka looked up, she’d been absentmindedly tapping a blank page in her notebook with her pen. She looked to the clock. For the past three days her obsession with figuring out the ‘deal’ with this host club had certainly possessed her. 

“No.” She finally answered, snapping the notebook shut and shoving it in her bag. 

“What? Why? Did your father call you home early?” 

“No.” She stood and slung the bag over her shoulder, using a free hand to smooth out the pale yellow skirt, “I just want to do other things today.” 

Mayu looked sad, but gave in easily. It seemed she knew she’d pushed her luck enough already. Asuka cocked her head to the side.

“You can still go without me. Surely you’re not still scared of showing up on your own? I’ve seen you talk to some of the girls too- you should get their numbers and hang out with them.” 

“But I like hanging out with you!” Mayu exclaimed, pouting. Asuka sighed.

“You can have more than one friend.” 

“I know…”

Asuka patted her on the head and moved to walk past her. 

“We can hang out this weekend– go out for brunch or something.” She looked back over her shoulder as she headed out the door, “Have fun!” 

Frankly, the silence on the way out was nice. She loved Mayu, but it’d been a bit since she’d been free from constant chatting. She supposed her social battery was running low. Ouran was a beautiful school, and she took the rare opportunity to admire it on the way out. Delicate carvings in the rails, soft curtains hanging from huge windows, and somehow not a spot of dust anywhere. It was even nicer outside with all the fountains and cleanly trimmed hedges. The bricks were all straight, the birds chirped cheerfully, and it was quiet enough to still hear a bit of chatter happening inside the building from open windows. The school was simply straight from a fairy tale. 

But with every list of pros there were always cons. She missed the rowdy hustle and bustle of the public school. Kids running all over each other to be the first ones out. The loud laughing and yelling, the general hijinks. To her, it felt that kids had been more free there– more at home. Ouran felt like a constant game of chess, and she’d fallen into it immediately. Starting to befriend some of the more beneficial girls in her class, maintaining an image. Ouran wasn’t a school for your basic, run of the mill kid. It was a playing field for the future rich and powerful. It was a breeding ground for relationships that would make or break you. Asuka couldn’t remember ever feeling like this at her old school. Maybe her father had intended this to click for her. Was this the behavior he wanted? 

She stopped in front of one of the fountains as the clock tower chimed. Asuka stared down at her reflection in the water, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. The water pattered back into itself quietly as a flock of birds flew overhead. She looked up across the pond- someone’s bag floated there. Sopping wet, papers and other contents strewn about. She ‘hmm’d to herself. Maybe this school wasn’t so different from the public one after all.

[lilmackiereads]

A TAXONOMY OF LOVE (2018) BY RACHAEL ALLEN - SPOILER-FILLED REVIEW

For the review WITHOUT SPOILERS, click here. To continue WITH spoilers, begin reading after the cover photo.

Overall Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

I am actually surprised with myself for giving this such a high rating as I am easily very bored with the teen romance novels. Of the few YA romance that I have read in the last year this has been my favorite which was a total surprise! I actually almost gave up reading it in the first 50 or so pages because I found the initial few chapters from Spence’s point of view unrealistic. For some reason I just didn’t feel like the dialogue and thought processes going on in this 13-year-old boy’s head felt accurate to the tween boys I’ve known growing up. There wasn’t enough swearing or boyish grossness. For instance, I feel like he needed a bit of a sprinkle of yucky (belching/ nose-picking/ farting/ name-calling) like the boys in Stephen King’s “The Body” aka Stand by Me (1986), The Sandlot (1993) or Stranger Things (2016) because many boys at this age are generally just pretty gross and obnoxious in my experience. (I grew up tween to teen between 2008-2018 and babysat lots of kids and now I work with middle school and high schoolers…)

HOWEVER, I think Allen did nail Spence’s dorkiness, which is why I ultimately kept reading because he is pretty adorable and his taxonomies are pretty funny.

Unlike John Green (The Fault in Our Stars, 2012 and Turtles All the Way Down, 2017) and Becky Albertalli (Simon vs the Homosapien Agenda, 2015) who are two of the best teen writers that can accurately display the minds of the opposite sex in my opinion, I feel like Allen struggles a bit with writing Spence’s point-of-view. I found Hope’s p-o-v more realistic (and relatable) as a female, but I think that Spence became more realistic as the book progressed from age 13 to 19. Especially once he hit puberty, I think the romantic stakes and thoughts were more accurate to a teenage boy. Haha. But what do I know? I’ve never been a teenage boy.

Hope reminded me a lot of myself because I’m generally happy-go-lucky, but I had a major emo-phase in high school that really warped my attitude at the time (and admittedly comes out to play occasionally as an adult.) I wish we had more chapters from her perspective. I was bummed out when her sister died. It's hard to lose someone so close to you, especially when they're so young. The only thing I didn't like about Hope was her last name, Birdsong. I think it was just a little too on-the-nose. If we're really going for the "girl next door" she could have just had a basic last name like Smith or Miller.

I really liked all the little parties the characters through for the holidays and the references to Hamilton (2015), Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975), Grease (1978), and Pokémon. Jayla and Spencer's Pikachu and Ash costumes sounded adorable. I feel like Hope’s transition over the story is actually a lot like Sandy’s! Also, the two girls at the Halloween party who were Sandy before and after, such a cool costume idea!

Jayla and Dean were both kind of annoying at times, but ultimately, I think they had good hearts, but were just a little too self-involved for their own good. I really appreciated after Dean went to college and grew up a little and started to stand up for Jayla and Spencer.

I also like that the book goes over some important topics like racism and the Civil War, disability awareness, bullying, mental health, and using sexual situations as a coping mechanism.

My top three favorite parts are:

The Vice Principal’s Surprise -- I mean DICK CONFETTI? How much better can it get?

2. The Tree Stand in the Rain -- My little heart at all the romance:

3. The Lightning Bugs -- Just such a sweet and magical moment.

Would I Read this Book Again?

Low key kind of want to read it again right now! I hope they make a movie of this!

[psychicwint]

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School Board Chairman's hate-filled rant against parents.

He said that parents’ complaints of pornography and grooming their children amounted to their “intolerance of LGBTQ individuals” that are “thinly veiled behind a camouflage of parental rights” and were simply “half-truths, misrepresentations, and false accusations.” Gazda went on to say that, “For many students school is their only safe place, and that safety evaporates when they leave the confines of our buildings.” We next posted this report (with video): At the May 25 School Board meeting, Gazda read an angry, bizarre rant against the city’s parents.

Superintendent’s outrageous rant against parents.

The former Baird Middle School librarian (right) is described in the press as "non-binary." Kids were given links to “transgender” YouTube videos. Teachers and counselors secretly began pushing the concept of “preferred pronouns” to the children. As we reported, starting in 2019, pornographic books began appearing in the Baird Middle School library and weird sexual posters were put up outside the library doors. Here are some of the key points from our reports:

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See our 13-part series on the Ludlow Middle School horror, published in 2021. And we gave other parents in town strategies to fight this, leading to two high-profile resignations in the school district. We exposed much of the material brought out in the court filing. Starting in December 2020, we worked with the Ludlow parents and one of the heroic teachers there.

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Our 25+ years of experience has given us understanding on how to tackle violations like this by schools. MassResistance is thrilled to have been able to help the fight get to this point. The Baird Middle School in Ludlow, MA, has become infamous for the horrible treatment of children, parents, and a teacher who spoke out! In the trenches: How MassResistance did the groundwork of reporting and exposing the outrageous actions by the school The lawsuit was filed by Child & Parental Rights Campaign (with offices in GA and VA), along with a local Massachusetts attorney.

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The lawsuit has been reported on Fox News, The Boston Globe, New York Post, The Hill, The Daily Mail (U.K.), Daily Caller, LifeSiteNews, and many more outlets, including local TV stations and talk radio across the U.S. In the 58-page filing, the parents accuse the staff of Ludlow’s Baird Middle School of secretly counseling their children to identify as “transgender.” The staff persuaded them to adopt opposite-sex names and new “personal pronouns.” After the parents ordered the school to stop, the Ludlow school administrators allowed the staff to continue doing this – effectively pushing the children further into gender confusion. This past week, news media across the country (and beyond) have been buzzing about a blockbuster lawsuit filed in Federal District Court last week by four parents in Ludlow, Massachusetts against the Ludlow Public Schools and several employees there. This is just the tip of the iceberg - of what the teachers, "counselors," and other staff were doing to children behind the parents' backs.

[ageofbarbarians]

Pull Over

You and Harry take a drive along the coast only for a little pit stop…

Warnings: Adult Content 18+

Word Count: 4.9k

MASTERLIST

“You have to tell me everything about it. I don’t want any missing details! Do you think anything will happen?” Your best friend, Aluora, shouted excitedly through the phone. She had been your best friend since kindergarten but ever since you moved you haven’t seen her in a while. You two talked every day and it’s like nothing had ever changed even though you were on opposite sides of the country.

“I won’t I promise, but I don’t think so. I told myself I was going to take things slow. I told him that too. He hasn’t even kissed me yet! I mean I wouldn’t have minded because it’s just a kiss and I wanted to so bad but I’m not one to make the first move, you know that.” You shrugged. Your phone was set up against the sink and wall as you continued to get ready since you were on FaceTime.

“Wow what a gentleman. Most guys try to fuck after the first date. He must be a keeper.” Aloura laughed and you laughed with her.

“Tell me about it. I hope he is though. He’s one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met and god, he is so damn sexy.” You threw your head back at your last words and you could hear her laugh through the other end.

“Do you have any pictures of this mystery man? I still have yet to see what he looks like. You haven’t even told me his name!” She groaned. You grabbed your phone and went to his Instagram page and screenshotted a picture of him.

“Before I show you, you have to promise me you won’t freak out. I have no idea how it happened, but it did.” You point your finger at the screen and Aloura put both hands up in the air to show she wouldn’t.

You sent over the picture and as soon as it went through all you could hear was the loudest scream out could possibly imagine. You turned down the volume on your phone a few notches before she blew a speaker.

“Y/N, you’re fucking kidding me. The Harry Styles!? You’re lying.” She shook her head in disbelief. Aloura was a huge fan of his music, ever since he was a part of One Direction, which is one of the main reasons you didn’t tell her because you knew she’d freak out.

“I’m not lying. Again, I have no idea how it happened.” You continued to do your makeup, opening your mouth just so you could apply your mascara.

“How come there were no photos of you guys from your first date?” She asks curiously. Honestly, you don’t know how to answer because you’re not sure. You figured going out with a big name like Harry the paparazzi would be all over you two. But now that you recall, there was nothing.

“I… I actually don’t know?” You stood still for a minute trying to rack your brain of all of the possibilities.

You were in the bathroom finishing the final touches on your hair and makeup waiting for your date to arrive. You smiled at the thought of being able to see Harry again. The two of you were going on a second date. Nothing too fancy, just going for a drive along the coast and possibly a picnic if the weather decided to clear up. You hadn't been in California long but you were loving it so far. You only had a few friends here that you knew from high school since they moved for college but after you had graduated you just needed a change. Granted it was about three years since you had graduated, but better late than never right? 

You worked at a cafe that was down the street from your apartment and the money was good. You made a few friends through work but still had yet to hang out with any of them. You were a homebody and without Aloura here, things just weren't the same.  You still missed her more than anything. 

Right as you finished applying a thin layer of lip gloss you heard three knocks at the door. You gave yourself one last look over before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom to make your way to the front door.

“I gotta go he’s here. I love you!” You wave to Aloura and you end the FaceTime call. You took a deep breath, butterflies filling your stomach. You answered the door to see Harry standing there holding an assorted bouquet. Different types of white, yellow, orange, and pink flowers. You didn’t know what any of them were beside the sunflowers and daisies.

"Harry, you didn't have to get me flowers! You're too sweet." You grabbed them from him and stepped to the side so he could come into your apartment. You walked over to the small kitchen and tried to find a vase of some sort to put them into. You found a tall, skinny, black vase and filled it with water before setting the flowers inside to set on the counter. 

"Pretty flowers for a pretty girl. I couldn't just show up empty-handed. We’re you talking to somebody?" Harry shrugged casually and wrapped his arm around your waist before planting a small kiss on your cheek. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the small gesture as it took you slightly off guard since you guys haven't even shared a first kiss yet. Not that it was a huge deal, anyway, just a surprising gesture.

“Yeah, I was on the phone with my best friend. M’nervous to be honest.” You mumbled the last part. You played with your fingers for a moment waiting for a response from him.

“Nervous? What for?” He asked. There were plenty of reasons why you were nervous.

“I’m not sure.” You lied. Lying was never a good thing to start in a new relationship, or whatever this was, but you didn’t want to turn it into a whole thing.

You had just gotten out of a tough relationship a couple of months prior. One of your friends had introduced you to Harry and the two of you hit it off almost immediately. You told him from the very beginning that you wanted to take things slow, and he was doing just that. On your first date, the two of you went to a nice restaurant and got ice cream afterward. Even though you told him you wanted to take things slow, you were shocked he didn't kiss you after bringing you home. A kiss is just a kiss anyway. 

"I packed some food and wine for us. I thought maybe we could have a little picnic by the water. Has the weather cleared up any? I haven't looked outside." You grabbed the small basket from the fridge and pulled it out. There was an assortment of sandwiches, chips, fruit, and even a bottle of wine with some glasses just to spice things up a little. 

"A little bit, yeah. It's still pretty cloudy outside but it feels nice. Should we go?" Harry nodded his head and grabbed the small basket from your hands so you wouldn't have to carry it. You nodded in response and grabbed your phone and purse before the two of you walked down to his car. 

"You know, I had an amazing time last weekend. I know I told you multiple times already but I did." You stared at your feet as you walked down the hall and eventually down the stairs since you lived on the second floor of your apartment building. 

"I did too. M’really glad we're going out again. I wasn't expecting a picnic though, luckily I have a couple of extra blankets in m'car." Harry opened the door and stepped to the side holding it open so you could go first. He followed right behind you and then made his way back next to you. You noticed the yellow convertible sitting in front of your complex and you immediately knew it was Harry's. He had such a knack for cars and this just had to be one of them.

"What kind of car is this, H? I absolutely love it." Harry opened the door for you and you slipped into the passenger seat, whispering a small thank you. What a gentleman.

"It's a 1972 Ferrari Dino. I just got it not that long ago, it's one of m'new favorites." Harry got into the driver's seat and sat the basket down by your feet since there was no backseat. He put the keys in the ignition and as he turned them, the old-fashion yellow car purred to life. You gently ran your fingers over the black leather interior and looked around. It was an extremely nice car. 

"I love it. It even matches my dress." You looked down at the pale yellow sundress with little daisies printed all over. It was one you had just bought recently and you figured this date would be perfect to wear it for the first time. It wasn't anything special but it was a new favorite piece. 

"You look absolutely beautiful, Y/N. M'sorry I didn't say anything sooner." Harry scanned your body for a minute and the action alone sent chills down your spine. There was just something so intimidating about his gaze that you found it hard to make eye contact with him sometimes.

"You don't have to apologize, it's not like I was expecting any sort of compliment. But thank you." You blushed at his compliment and looked down to your feet. Harry pulled away from the curb and began driving towards the coast. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses that seemed to fit his face perfectly. He turned up the radio a bit and music played softly throughout the car. 

After driving for about fifteen minutes, the drive was filled with quiet music coming from the radio, but silence from the two of you. As you observed the scenery and you let him focus on driving. The wind had picked up which caused your dress to ride up slightly on your freshly shaven legs. Harry put his hand on your thigh and began to rub small circles with his thumb. The simple touch sent jolts of electricity through your body. He hadn't even done anything and he was already driving you crazy. You bit your lip before looking over at him, and he had the smallest smirk on his face, almost like he knew the effect he had on you. You observed his features from the side and scanned his body. He was wearing a black button-up shirt that was rolled up on his arms and only buttoned about halfway, exposing the tattoos on his chest. It was accompanied by a pair of black skinny jeans and a black pair of Vans. Rings scattered his fingers and he had a chain necklace with a cross at the end. The look was so simple yet he looked so insanely hot. His curly locks were blowing in the wind and every few minutes he would take his hand off the wheel and push them back, still keeping his other hand on your thigh. His hand moved up your thigh slightly, the dress moving over the top of his hand.

You looked back out the window to avoid any more wandering thoughts but they genuinely were getting the best of you. You had made a promise to yourself to take things slowly but there was just something about Harry that made you want to forget all of that. You trusted him fully, he hasn’t given you a reason not to. He was completely understanding of wanting to take things slow because of your past relationship and he never tried to break any of those boundaries thus far.

The thoughts never strayed though. You thought about what his fingers and mouth might feel like against your core, what his lips would feel like intertwined with yours. Everything about what his touch would be like took over your mind. 

You shifted in your seat and you could feel his eyes on you. A wave of heat crept to your core and you bit your lip again. All of the possibilities going through your mind.

We're going slow. You made a promise to yourself.

Harry's hand moved a little further, his fingers gripping your inner thigh and his thumb still rubbing small circles. Every time he would make a circle his thumb would slightly graze the inner part of your leg that meets your pelvic bone. You leaned your head to the side against the headrest and let out a shaky breath, hoping he wouldn't notice. You could feel your cheeks getting hot at the simple contact but he was just lighting you on fire. 

“Y/N I know you want to take things slowly but fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” His voice was deep and he adjusted in his seat, pulling on the material of his jeans to relieve some of the stress.

“In a good way, I’m hoping?” You laughed softly and Harry laughed with you.

“Yes. In a great way even. Frustrating, but a good way.” He nodded and squeezed your thigh a little tighter this time. You put your hand over the top of his and move it closer to your core, assuming he’d gotten the hint.

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop." He spoke quietly, but just quietly enough for you to hear him. His thumb grazed over your heat, slowly starting to rub small circles over the clothed damp center. He continued his slow, circular movements for a few minutes and every time he made a complete pass you could just feel yourself getting hotter.

"Don't stop." You shook your head and as you did, you could feel the dampness becoming more prominent and you knew he could feel it too. You closed your eyes, and let the overwhelming feelings just take control. You lifted your dress ever so slightly to reveal the black lace underwear you put on this morning. Harry’s eyes went back and forth between your hips and the road. A small groan left his lips as he tried to observe the material as best as he could while still trying to focus on driving.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're going to make me crash this damn car.” Harry chuckled but never stopped his movements, if anything he sped them up. A soft moan left your lips that you were praying he heard just to get more of a rise out of him.

"Should I pull over somewhere? Say the word and I will." He asked swiftly, eyes going back and forth between you and the road again. You nodded your head but that wasn't good enough for him.

"I want to hear you say it. Do you want me to pull over?" His voice was low. You could hear the dominance in his voice and it was incredibly sexy. 

"Pull over." And without a second thought, Harry quickly pulled over down a dirt road that seemed like it would lead down towards the water. He sped up to get down faster and you hit a part of the beach that was pretty private. There wasn't anybody around and it was almost like he knew this was here. Maybe it was just sheer luck. Or was that his plan. 

Harry faced his car towards the rocky cliff that was near the entrance of his tiny private beach. He threw the car into park and turned off the ignition. He undid both your seatbelts and focused all of his attention on you. His fingers moved over your clothed entrance again, teasing you at every chance he could get.

"Please don't be a tease, H." You moaned, shifting your hips to gain more friction against his hands. His movements would go at a slow, steady pace before he would speed them up again and repeat the process all over again. 

"Let's get out, yeah?" Harry opened his door before rushing over to your side and opening your door for you. He put one arm behind your back and the other underneath your legs before lifting you out. He brought you to the front of the car and sat you on the hood. It wasn't hot but it was warm enough to make your legs sweat a little. It was a nice heat, but from how hot and bothered you were it definitely wasn't helping.

"Are you sure you want me on the hood of the car? You just said you just got it." You questioned. Harry positioned his body between your legs and brought one of his hands to the back of your neck.

"That's exactly where I want you, darling." He smirked before his lips crashed down onto yours. You took in a deep breath through your nose as the action caught you slightly off guard. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned a little more to the kiss. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, requestion permission to enter. You opened your mouth slightly to allow his tongue to slip in, both of yours fighting for dominance. At the same time, a groan rumbled from his chest as a moan escaped yours.

Harry's lips moved from yours to your cheek, to your neck, and down towards your collar bones, sucking and biting a little harder in some places that you knew were bound to leave lilac marks. With every kiss, he just kept sinking lower and lower until he was on his knees in front of your clothed core. He bunched up your dress at your waist and placed his fingertips at the sides of the lace underwear.

"Y/N, I mean it, tell me to stop at any point and I will. If anything gets too rough or your uncomfortable just tell me."

"I want you to do anything but stop. Please." You whimpered. His eyes flashed a darker shade of green before he ripped the lace right of your hips. The tear creates a slight sting against your skin. 

"Harry those were my favorite!" You whined. 

"I'll buy you more, I promise." He smirked as one of his hands made contact with your heat. Arousal pooled between your legs with every little touch he made and it was clear that he knew it was because of him. His thumb made circles against your bundle of nerves and the small bit of pressure caused a moan to escape past your lips.

"I wanna taste you, darling." He whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

"Please," was all you could say before his mouth attacked your core. A lengthy moan escaped your lips at the fact he had finally made some sort of contact. He sucked on your bundle of nerves causing your legs to shake slightly. You're pretty sure he noticed as his arms wrapped around them to keep you as still as he could.

"Fuck, H," You moaned as Harry licked a long slow strip up your core. Your hands moved to his hair and you tugged slightly which earned a groan from him that vibrated against you. His fingers teased your entrance before he entered one finger, curving it upwards to hit the spot you didn't even know existed. A louder moan left your lips as he pumped one of his fingers in and out of you before adding another one. You looked down at him to see all of the dirty things he was doing to you. Right as you looked down at him you noticed that his eyes were already focused on you, observing every breath, moan, and whimper you made under his touch. 

"Shit, I think I'm going to cum, fuck, Harry, don't stop," You gasped as you felt the familiar feeling beginning to spiral in your stomach. You threw your head back and let out a series of moans. Before you could even feel the release of your climax, Harry halted all of his movements, removed his fingers, and stood up, towering over you. His hands cupped your face before planting a kiss on your lips. 

"How about some wine, yeah?" Harry smirked as you stared at him in disbelief. Was he seriously just about to leave you like this?

"W-what the fuck?" That was all you could manage to say. You genuinely were at a loss for words. What the fuck is this?

Harry walked over to the back of his car and grabbed a couple of blankets that he had mentioned he had. He started to set them up as you just sat on the hood of his car in disbelief. As he sat down on the blankets he began to take the wine and glasses out of the basket. 

You hopped off the hood of the car and sat down next to Harry as he poured some wine for the both of you. He handed you yours first as you glared at him and you pretty much chugged the glass from frustration. Not that it was something you shouldn't get pissed about, but you were livid. 

"What's the matter, love?" Harry had a stupid grin on his face, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. You grabbed the bottle of wine from his hands and poured yourself another glass, drinking this one just as fast as the other.

"Oh nothing, just having the worst experience of getting denied what was probably going to be the best orgasm of my entire life. What the fuck do you think is wrong Harry?" You shot at him. You rolled your eyes and faced the water and watched the waves crash to shore. You felt one of his hands grab your jaw and he turned your head towards him.

"The best, eh?" He smirked and you couldn't help but roll your eyes again.

"At this point, make it the worst." You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. You made eye contact with Harry and he had a serious look on his face with one of his brows raised. You knew you hit a nerve. 

You felt one of Harry's hands wrap around your wrist and pull you up, practically dragging you towards his car. He walked around to the front and pushed you down over the top of the hood of the car. You felt your dress bunch up around your hips and your arms were forced behind your back, leaving your chest and your head pressed up against the hood. Harry's lips attacked your heat again only for a moment before he gripped your dainty wrists with one of his hands. You heard the zipper of his jeans and knew he was lowering his jeans to about the middle of his thighs. He teased your slick folds with the tip of his dick.

"Fuck Harry, please don't be a tease I hate that shit." You groaned. It was only seconds after the words left your mouth before you felt him stretching you out. A long moan escaped your lips at his size. He was honestly bigger than you were expecting him to be.

Harry's pace started slow, giving you some time to adjust to him but it wasn't long before his thrusts became sharper and quicker. You so badly wanted to just run your hands all over his body and watch all of his movements but it didn't seem like it was going to happen since you were facing away from him and it didn't seem like he was going to let go of your wrists anytime soon.

"We'll see about that being the worst, love," Harry whispered in your ear before sending another sharp thrust into you. A loud whimper left your mouth and your moans were almost becoming pornographic. He had a perfect rhythm going and it didn't seem he was going to let up anytime soon. His thrusts were sharp and hard, not giving you any mercy. 

He let go of your wrists but one of his hands came up and wrapped itself around your throat. He didn't apply any pressure since he wasn't sure if you were okay with it but your next words nearly sent him over the edge.

"Choke me, Styles." 

His hand squeezed around your throat and you gasped at the feeling, a smile playing across your lips. You looked ahead at the waves and it was almost like it was resembling how he was making you feel. 

Being choked was one of your favorite things but nobody could ever seem to do it right or they were just too scared to hurt you. You liked the pain and you didn't mind if you even had bruises, in the end, it was just a nice reminder of the time you had 

It was almost like he was reading your thoughts as you felt a hard smack across your ass, sending out another loud moan. Harry reached his free hand down and began rubbing fast circles on your clit. Tears brimmed your eyes from the feelings being so overwhelming. Your vision was slowly going black from him choking you, but somehow it was just even more arousing. His hand released from around your throat and you gasped for air, the stars that were clouding your vision starting to disappear.

"Such a good girl," Harry groaned as he slowed his pace, trying to elongate the moment in any way that he could. His thrusts were still sharp and it was nearly perfect with every spot he was hitting.

"Oh my god." You gasped. As the familiar feeling of your climax starts to bubble in your stomach, you could feel yourself tightening around him.

"Fuck, if you don't stop tightening around me I won't last much longer," Harry groaned as he threw his head back.

"Shit, please let me cum, H, please! I'm so close," You begged. Harry's movements sped up as you pleaded.

"Cum for me, darling," He whispered in your ear and that was all you needed before you exploded around him. You cried out his name as he kept moving quick circles on your clit, riding you through your orgasm.

"Fuck, I'm going to finish," Harry groaned and you could feel his thrusts getting sloppier.

"I want to taste you," You felt Harry pull out of you and you stood up before dropping to your knees. He was much bigger than you were anticipating. Your lips wrapped around his slick head and you started bobbing your head up and down, using your hand for the rest that you couldn't fit into your mouth.

"Look at you and those pretty little lips around my cock," Harry hissed and his dirty words made you moan. You could feel him twitch and you just knew he was going to cum soon. You quickened your pace and played with his balls with your free hand, causing a loud moan to escape from him. You took his length as far back into your throat as you could which released another moan from him. You looked up at him with innocent eyes which only seemed to weaken him.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm cumming," Harry groaned and you felt his length twitch inside your mouth as the warm, salty liquid shot down the back of your throat. You continued to suck him off, trying to get every last little bit of him that you could. 

You pulled him out of your mouth with a 'pop' and licked a slow, teasing stripe against his length before standing to your feet. You grabbed onto Harry's arms since you were unsteady and he let out a small laugh.  Your dress fell back down hitting the middle of your thighs and Harry pulled up his boxers and jeans, adjusting himself. His hands came up and cupped themselves against both sides of your face before he placed a slow, passionate kiss against your lips. His tongue intertwined with yours slowly to fight for dominance. 

"Let's get you home and cleaned up, yeah? Do you wanna come back to mine?" He whispered as he barely pulled away from you, noses touching.

"Only if I can get more of you," You whispered back, tangling your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck and tugging back slightly to expose more of his neck before you started planting a mark on his jaw just below his ear. He let out a shaky breath and his hands gripped around your ass.

"Ready for round two already?" He smirked, letting you leave a mark on him. It was only fair since he left multiple on you.

"After that? I'll never get enough of you." You whispered in his ear before turning away to grab all of the belongings that you left a little way down the beach. Harry wasn't far behind you as he grabbed the blankets and shook off all of the sand before folding them up. You walked back to the car and he was quick to open the door for you before he got in himself. He put the keys in the ignition and his car purred to life. Before he started to pull away he leaned over a placed a firm kiss against your lips.

"How about we go back and I fuck you properly this time?" He whispered in your ear before tugging on your earlobe with his teeth. You faced him as a wicked grin flashed across his face and his eyes filled with lust. You bit your lip and nodded your head, leaving you at a loss for words.

 After tonight, you were going to be absolutely wrecked. 

**************

It’s been so long since I’ve written any one shots wow, but this is the first one for this account((:        How would we feel about a part 2?(;

[jeonfiles]

once more to see you | kth 01

pairing: taehyung x reader ft. seokjin

genre: angst, fluff, unrequited love

synopsis: taehyung is the complete opposite of you, and you're so in love with him. he's not interested in you at all, but he's willing to pretend so he won't be known for breaking the sweetest girl in school's heart. he knows you'll end up hurt either way.

warnings: taehyung is an idiot, a lot of pining, y/n is annoyingly dependent on validation, y/n does a lot of silent prayers, y/n is a track star, childhood bsf seokjin (cute), mentions of deceased family member

music for this chap: she had the world , carry me out

a/n: taehyung will disappoint u in the beginning but hes cute i promise

"I get why you like him Y/N," Sohee swallowed the rest of her sandwich before finishing her sentence, "He's so hot. People say he's interested in you too, y'know?"

Sohee visibly tried to get food out from the back of her mouth using her tongue, and it made you chuckle at the sight. "I don't think he does." You sighed, resting your chin in your palm.

You were both situated at the table in the inner corner of the cafeteria, with a full view of who walks in the door, and sometimes you swore you could see Sohee drool when attractive guys walked in that exact door.

"Hello, of course, he does! Even his friend Jimin told Kang Seulgi from Class 1, who told Go Euntaek in class 3, who eventually told his girlfriend Baek Ho-rang who ran to me to tell me the great news." Sohee gasped for air after rambling, and you rolled your eyes,

"Stories change when that many links contribute." You scoffed, sitting back in your chair and reaching for your juice box on the table, taking a huge slurp, which you knew would annoy Sohee.

"You don't believe me? Guess we gotta ask a link closer to the source then." Sohee stood up from her chair, and you looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Park Jimin, get your ass over here will ya?" She nearly shouted across the cafeteria, and now all looks were pointed at you two, and you felt the urge to just slip down the cracks of the floor tiles and hide there forever grow stronger for each nanosecond.

You sunk further down on your tacky, orange chair, but you could still see Jimin's black locks sway a little over the crowd as he walked over to the table you were sitting at.

"What's up sugar?" Jimin smirked at Sohee, and Sohee didn't even budge, and you had no idea how she did it. He was stupidly attractive and could make any girl drop her pants with a comment like that.

"Jimin my dearest, a little birdie told me that Taehyung likes my sweet Y/N, could you confirm?" She batted her long lashes and smiled prettily at Jimin.

He looked to the left, sucked his teeth, and said, "I can't, I'm sorry." You realized you had grown a little too hopeful, and your heart sunk quite a bit when he spoke.

"Does he think I'm pretty at least?" You spoke up, eyes shining when you looked up towards the standing Jimin, the harsh lights in the cafeteria reflecting in them.

"He hasn't mentioned you much, to be quite honest." He shrugged, walking back to his table, where Taehyung and the rest of his friends sat.

Your heart thumped when he met your eyes, and you looked away in panic. The rest of lunch was just Sohee apologizing and you avoiding eye contact with any of the students at the nearby tables.

Jimin mentioned you and Sohee's name several times, he was a loud speaker, and you were so scared of what he was saying you could probably die right then and there.

Saved by the bell, you picked up your stuff and got ready to start running to your classroom, praying you wouldn't meet any of Taehyung's friends, and especially not Taehyung as you ran Usain Bolt style.

You looked down while running, not thinking twice about leaving your best friend behind, you suddenly fell to the ground with a thud. This was surely not one of your glory days.

When you looked up, you wanted to cry. It was none other than Kim Taehyung, and he didn't look pleased. You gathered your things and muttered "Sorry." under your breath probably about 10 times, and he just watched, disappointingly.

"You're a klutz. Why were you running?" He spoke, and your knees turned into jelly when you tried to stand up, you nearly fell and dropped all your stuff again, but he caught you by the arm, straightening you up like it was nothing.

"Uh... Uhm... Err..." you mumbled, and he rolled his eyes, and not in a joking manner. "Fuck that, why are you going around telling people I like you?"

Your breath hitched, and he stared at you coldly. "I didn't! Gosh, my friend Sohee told me someone had told her that you liked me, and- uh... We asked Jimin, and-" He put his hand over your mouth, making you shut up.

"I don't want you two to go around making up baseless rumors about me, it's incredibly annoying for me to go around correcting people who assume shit just because your little friend speaks louder than a bunch of hyenas at a tea party." Taehyung nearly spat, and you took a step back.

You noticed that people were listening in, their stares burning holes in your back. He was livid, and you didn't understand why, you just smiled, praying to god that this would end soon.

"I just thought you liked me-" You began, and he interrupted you, "You thought I was gonna like someone like you? Get over yourself and enter the real world."

The hallway went silent, your lips trembled as hot tears raced down your face, and like the track star you were, you fled the scene and passed the finish line into the bathrooms.

You stayed till the school day ended, not knowing what was unraveling outside the four walls of the stall.

Sohee 💜: 01:12 pm

Y/N, where are you? i heard what happened :( i hate taehyung im gonna chop his sausage off

Sohee 💜: 01:38 pm

taehyung is fighting w doyoung because doyoung decided to defend you this is hilarious

but fr where are you

Sohee 💜: 01:57 pm

doyoung gave taehyung a black eye damn

doyo is on the verge of tears when taehyung said you liked him and not doyo

taehyung cant not have feelings for you like there must be smth deeper going on

Sohee 💜: 03:39 pm

class just ended i'll wait out back

Sohee always knew when to leave you alone, so she did, partially. You usually shut off your phone when you're upset, but she still sends you texts to update you whenever you turn it back on.

This time, it was quite dramatic, and you rushed out of the icky stall and ran (again) to reach Sohee to get the full story, and as you expected, it was interesting.

"Basically, Doyoung punched Taehyung and Taehyung was a little too OP, so he failed to initiate a fight, so it just turned into Taehyung being an ass to Doyoung for defending you." She shrugged, adjusting the straps of her leather backpack as you walked home.

"Taehyung's rep is so tainted right now, I don't know how he's gonna fix this my dear Y/N, so I guess he got his karma. He's an idiot and I'm glad other people are starting to see."

You nodded yes, pushing out a fake chuckle, while silently you prayed that everything would soon be back to normal and that Taehyung would forgive you for the mess you caused.

Being in love with Taehyung for a year had taken a toll on you, and your best friend since freshman year had noticed too. You were different.

You used to be so independent and optimistic, but now you would strive for validation, and you had turned into one of the most insecure people Sohee had ever met.

Sohee tried to pull you away from him, but to her demise, it only got worse when you tried to meet other guys. She figured that the only way for you to disconnect from him was if you had your go with him, or if he treated you like a complete idiot.

You waved goodbye to Sohee as you entered your house, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself down on the couch. You wanted to scream, but you saw your brother's and another guy's shoes in your hallway, so you kept it inside.

After having watched an episode of Seinfeld, you could hear the floorboards creak, and your gaze found its way to the hallway, where your brother, Yoongi stood, peeking out from his door.

"Ah, Y/N, you're the one who's home?" He smiled brightly, eyes turning into small crescents, which made you awe at the sight.

"Yuppers." You said and sat back again, pressing play to start the next episode. "Who's your guest?" And as you uttered your last word, another head peeked out from the door, and you couldn't help but feel the happiness brew inside you.

It was Kim Seokjin in all his glory, and this time, he looked even hotter. It had been about two years since you last saw him because he moved to Germany to study medicine.

Seokjin had been your neighbor since you were born, and you pretty much grew up with two older brothers who always took care of you.

No one dared to mess with you, because Seokjin and Yoongi always got to them first. That way, you grew up without a care in the world, protected from all evil.

You had no idea when you fell in love with him. It was somewhere during puberty, where your interest in Brad Pitt and Kim Soohyun from Dream High had grown stronger.

You remember Seokjin was scouted for modeling, acting, and even idol groups all through your childhood. He did a few ads, photoshoots, a popular teenage drama called Double Trouble, and even managed to get his own Wikipedia page.

There was no doubt that Seokjin was an attractive man, and in the two years he had been gone, his face fat was completely gone, and he had defined cheekbones, a slimmer and tighter figure, and you thought he couldn't be any more perfect.

"None other than God himself," Seokjin said smugly, opening his arms to greet you with a hug, and you threw your blanket you were covered into the side as you bolted into Seokjin's arms, legs wrapped around his waist.

He slowly put you down so your feet touched the parquet, and you felt a kind of euphoria as he smiled at you again, the same smile he had flashed you as long as you could remember.

Everything about Seokjin had matured and changed, but his smile remained the same. "What are you doing back?" You sniffled, holding back the happy tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I love Germany, but it's a little bland. I miss ahjumnas complimenting me on the subway and the bomb ass food here in SK." Seokjin grinned as he wiped a tear that fell down your face.

Yoongi was leaning against the door frame, smiling at the grand reunion. You knew he liked seeing you two together, and you had a small suspicion about him shipping you guys.

"Please don't ever leave again." You gripped onto his shirt, digging your face down in his chest, and he said, "I swear to god if you're wearing makeup right now-"

You laughed as you pushed him away, placing your hands below your chin and batting your eyelashes dramatically, "I'm all-natural."

"Naturally pretty." Seokjin leaned forward and whispered in your ear, and your heart did a little somersault.

Seokjin's always been a charmer.

You woke up in your room, pink sheets draped over your half-naked body as tons of messages poured in on your phone, vibrating so much it nearly fell off the edge of your nightstand.

You grab it while rubbing your eyes, and you're shocked to see the messages that had exploded on your lock screen.

Unknown: 08:39 am

Hey, it's Kim Taehyung.

Look, I'm sorry for the shit I said to you and I would love to make it up to you in some kind of way.

Maybe I could take you out?

I get it if you don't want to, but I heard you were interested in me so...

What kinda food do you like? Activities, hobbies?

I really wanna make this right :)

You: 08:43 am

oh hey! I'd love to, you kinda owe me one. if it's your treat, I suppose we could get some sushi and boba...

btw I don't like u like that

Contact made, saved as "taehyung <3" at 08:44 am

taehyung <3: 08:47 am

Okay. Meet me at Nori Table at 6 pm. Don't make me wait.

Your heart was palpitating, and when you pressed your phone up to your chest, you could feel your body heat up from your scalp to your toes.

Maybe Kim Taehyung had no interest in you right now, but he sure would after tonight. You were gonna make him love you, soon enough,

Running to the shower a few hours of Seinfeld later, you scrubbed with all your might with your newest strawberry scrub, did your makeup, curled your hair, and sat down on the couch, outfit draped over the armrest of the chair.

It was an hour till you were leaving, so for the time being you sat with hair rollers in your hair, dressed in pink sweats. Seokjin and Yoongi had been awake all night, you had heard them laugh and play Mario Cart all night, it reminded you of old times.

Old times where you went to bed crying because Yoongi and Seokjin's bedtime was later than yours at sleepovers. Thinking back, your parents made a pretty rational decision, but you resented them for it.

When Seokjin left for school in Germany, during your Sophomore year you cried again. You thought it was so unfair that you had to be two years younger, why couldn't you come with him?

You were painfully in love with him, and you had been probably since you were. A few months after he moved, your feelings faded. You were love-free, only to fall stupidly in love again with Taehyung just a year later.

You were forced to snap out of your train of thought because you heard the floorboards creak again. When you looked over at the dark hallway, you saw a tired, yet familiar face smile at you.

Seokjin looked quite disoriented, hair ruffled and eyes puffy, yet he looked like a Greek god. Sculpted to perfection, he smiled at you like he did yesterday and all the times before.

"Morning." He grunted out, his morning voice prominent. You chuckled when you looked at the time, feeling kind of bad for Seokjin who had slept away the majority of his day, which you knew he didn't like.

"It's 5 pm, cutie. Mom said you guys could order takeout, cause she's working late." You stood up, and Seokjin gave you a good look up and down, and then diverted his gaze to the lavender ruffle skirt and white long-sleeve blouse you had neatly hung over the armchair.

"What's the occasion?" He nodded over at the clothes and then your hair rollers and full-face makeup-covered face. He threw a few walnuts from the little bowl on the coffee table into his mouth.

"It's none of your business, but I have a date tonight," you said smugly, and a walnut flew out of Seokjin's mouth in shock.

"A date? Like a real one?" He frantically asked, and you nodded as you walked away with your outfit in hand.

You came back out minutes later, and Seokjin had to hold his mouth shut so it wouldn't drop to the floor. You had matured so well, a white blouse adorning your waist, and the lavender skirt hugged your curves nicely.

You had decorated your neck and ears with golden jewelry, and you had a pair of Air forces dangling from your left hand. You were beautiful, hair let free from the hair rollers, curls swaying as you did a twirl.

"It's alright, I guess." He pretended not to care, and your proud grin morphed into a frown pretty quickly, and he noticed.

He stood up and walked towards you, standing very close. His tall figure was hovering over you. Seokjin leaned forward towards your ear, not whispering this time,

"You're gorgeous." He pushed your curls behind your shoulder, adjusting your golden necklace as he returned to Yoongi's bedroom.

You were screwed.

The time on your phone showed 6:06 pm. You recall him saying ‘don’t be late’. What a hypocrite. It had started to pour down, so you were squeezed up against the brick wall of the restaurant so the ledge above you would shield you from the rain.

You were shaking from the cold, legs exposed because of your skirt. Sighing deeply, you reached down into your purse to text Taehyung, but when you looked up, you saw him running over to you.

He was holding a bouquet of pink delphinium and peonies. You’d always been interested in flowers, and this small gesture made you all fuzzy inside.

“I apologize for my late arrival m’lady. The flower shop was about to close down for the day, and I had to beg the cashier to let me in, promising to buy a huge bouquet if she did.” He smiled as he stood in front of you.

“No worries sir, I haven’t been waiting for long.” You chuckled, as you accepted the bouquet. His eyes scanned every inch of your body, and he said, “You’re shivering. Let’s go inside.”

This was a side of Taehyung you had barely seen before, caring and warm. This was also the side of him that initially made you fall for him.

The memories of him reading stories for children at the hospital was heartwarming. Whenever you went to visit your brother, who has now passed, you would see him read stories for all the unlucky kids.

Your brother, who was only 7 years old talked about Taehyung like a superhero, and it seemed as if Taehyung’s stories were the highlight of his days at the hospital.

Daejung wasn’t a kid you would pity. In his last months in the hospital he never once cried. You believed that Taehyung was a big part of the reason.

That’s why you fell in love with him. He hadn’t been a superhero in the form of saving lives, but he definitely made a whole lot of sick kids happier.

How could you ever repay him?

Taehyung rested a hand on your shoulder and lead you inside the door, and there stood a beautiful tall woman, black hair to her waist, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips.

She was beautiful. You looked up to see Taehyung’s reaction, and he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at you. His eyes met yours, and you could’ve sword the whole world stopped.

“Excuse me?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and it kicked you right back into reality. It was the pretty woman speaking, an even prettier voice to match her.

“Do you have a reservation?” She questioned, smiling so genuinely from ear to ear. “Yes. It’s on Kim.” Taehyung spoke so confidently.

“Ah, for two. I’ll be your server tonight.” She waved for you to follow her, and before she turned around, you saw her name tag.

Bae Eunmi. A pretty name for a pretty person. Of course, she had to be pretty. Your confidence sunk even lower, and your insecurities grew.

“I’m not interested in her, by the way. I’ve talked to her before. She’s all beauty and no brains. Not for me.” Taehyung whispered into your ear, possibly to reassure you.

You sat down at the table and ordered a huge plate of different types of sushi, maki, nigiri, uramaki, and even sashimi.

This restaurant was fancy, nearly too fancy for your liking. It was huge and flashy, and it made you doubt your outfit choice completely.

The restaurant fell silent since there weren’t many guests here this early. The silence wasn’t awkward between you guys. It was just, too silent, and you decided to break it.

“Do you still write stories?” Taehyung’s face froze. How did you know about the stories he wrote? Had you been stalking him? Was this when everyone would find out how weak he truly is?

“How did you find out... About them?” He asked hesitantly, fidgeting with a small woven basket with bread placed on your table.

“When sun and moon met, moon felt bad. When the moon was alone at night, he cried, because he wanted to shine just like the sun.” You quote his story word by word, it was your favorite paragraph.

He looked at you with a confused look and his eyes told you that he wondered why you knew the story so well.

Before he could speak up, you said, “My brother's name was Daejung. He looked up to you and constantly told me about how he wanted to be like you when he grew up.” You placed your hands on top of his over the table.

Taehyung was speechless. He sat there, body completely frozen as he processed what you just said. The little boy he had mourned for many months was the same flesh and blood as you.

“Daejung told me how he wanted me to marry you because he thought no one else deserved me.” Letting go of his hands, he continued sitting completely still.

First, he felt disappointed in himself. Disappointed of the way he had treated you, how sad Daejung would be if he knew.

Second, he could see him in your traits. Your button nose matched his completely, and your eyes sparkled just the way his eyes did.

Third, he realized he had to take care of you. Fall in love with you, for Daejung. Taehyung had promised the little boy to take care of his friends and family when he has at his worst.

His expression completely changed. It softened, and his eyes looked at you like you were godsent. He believed you were too. It was fate.

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a/n: u guys know the angst isn't over lol u guys r never gonna see the light at the end of the tunnel ! this chapter was originally a bit longer but i have to test the waters and seeing how u guys like it !! pls reblog <3