#and why ill never leave. tumblr just gets me

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 11

Loop #365

Joel: Grian what the hell is wrong with you today!??

Grian: I'm sorry Joel, I just can't right now.

Joel: No way, I'm not letting you leave just like that.

Grian: ... Fine.

Joel: A timeloop?

Grian: Yeah...

Joel: How many times-

Grian: I keep score, this is loop 365... Around 900 years now.

Joel: Guess that makes you an old man then!

Grian: What, I'm not old?

Joel: Did talking about it make it better.

Grian: But you are not going to remember-

Joel: You idiot, this isn't about me.

Grian : ... I guess.

Joel: I ask again, did it?

Grian: ...Yeah.

Loop #367

Grian had to admit that watching himself play games on a screen was weird...he just looked so cube-y. Wasn't even the first time he had gotten to watch his youtuber self but it was just as uncanny as the first time he did.

He even got to see some of the "au's" people made, just to prepare for eventual variant loops that might happen sooner or later of course.

Loop #369

Mumbo: G, mate, do you happen to have ab infinity gauntlet to give away...to me?

Grian: Why do you want an infinity gauntlet?

Mumbo: Well... I ...need the power stone.

Grian: ... Why?

Mumbo: I'm working on a project and redstone isn't going to be enough to power it.

Grian: And you want to use the power stone?

Mumbo: Yeah...?

Grian: ... Sure! It better be cool though.

Loop #372

False: You know G, I never tought about it but why are your eyes purple?

Grian: Oh? That? That is... because of a reason.

False: Huh uh?

Grian: I uh...

False: You?

Grian: I have Alexandria Genesis.

False: Huh?

Grian: ...

Pearl: I can't believe you said that!

Grian: It's not my fault you spent the last loop making Tumblr references.

Pearl: Ok, ok, ok but admit it, It's funny.

Grian: Nope.

X: Grian? False told me you are ill?

Grian: She did?

X: What is an... Alexander genesi?

Grian: It's Alexandria's Genesis.

X: That, how did you get ill? Is there a glitch in the code-

Pearl: It's his fault don't worry, he ate a moonmelon.

X: A what!?!

Pearl: A moonmelon, like a watermelon but blue.

X: How did you- where did you get that.

Grian: I... it was a gift?

X: From who? Was it a prank.

Pearl: It was from our... ... cousin!

Grian: Yep!

X: Cousin?

Grian: Oh you wouldn't...know them. They go to a different server.

Pearl: Yeah...just our dear cousin...Ebony Darkness Dementia Ravenway.

Grian: And then everybody clapped.

Scott: Huh uh. Sure thing.

Pearl: I would have clapped but it would have revealed the bit.

Grian: THANK you. At least someone here has my back.

Loop #375

Scar: Ok, ok, new plan.

Grian: I'm listening.

Scar: What if you betrayed me?

Grian: I can't betray you if you ... know about it? And who would I even betray you for? And why?

Scar: Oh no! Not a real betrayal...a fake one!

Grian: You want me to be a spy then?

Scar: ... Yes.

Grian: Crastle or Dogwarts?

Scar: Oh! I want to see you trick King Ren.

Grian: Hmmm, alright. I'll have to make it convincing. I'll need you to kill me.

Scar: Uh?

Grian: Think about it, you're red, it wouldn't be that surprising right?

Scar: Are you ...sure?

Grian: Yeah, I'll be fine. I do need a realistic reason. Just push me off a cliff.

Grian was doomed to fall by Goodtimeswithscar.

Martyn: Grian? Why are you here?

Grian: I assume you saw the news.

Martyn: Your death you mean?

Grian: What do you think?

Martyn: Just making sure, what about it?

Grian: Scar betrayed me because of red life his bloodlust. I want revenge.

Martyn: Revenge? Oh we'll get you that revenge.

Scar: What if you started spreading false info?

Grian: I'll need to share true info first or they'll catch on Scar.

Scar: Then I'll just make fake traps fir you to reveal! Everyone knows I'm not good at redstone anyway.

Grian: Huh. That could work.

Scar: I'm a genius I know. No need to praise me...

Grian: ...

Scar: ...

Grian: Are you sure you don't want praise?

Scar: ... No.

Grian: My lord, it seems the enemy has rigged the enchanter once more.

Ren: Has he? Martyn?

Martyn: I saw the trap with mine eyes.

Ren: How has he penetrated our private areas in such a way?

Grian almost let out a groan, he should have expected this but still.

Grian: I believe it might have been during our earlier trip.

Ren: Impossible, Skizz was at guard, he would have seen Scar I'm sure.

Grian knew Scar had used one of his loop abilities but maybe...

Grian: Perhaps Scar did not sneak in but was...let in.

Ren: Explain yourself.

Grian: I escaped from Scar's manipulation and joined your side my sire...perhaps one of ours has fell for them instead.

Martyn: Skizz... he definitely could have

Ren: You believe Skizz to be a traitor? Then his loyalty shall be tested.

Grian: Scar?

Scar: Yes?

Grian: Tomorrow Ren is going to give Skizz fake info. I'm going to tell you it so you can follow it.

Scar: Ohhh! You are making it seem like he's a traitor?

Grian: That's the plan.

Ren: Skizz, I didn't want to believe it.

Skizz: I'm not-

Martyn: Silence, you have betrayed the crown. You will pay!

Skizz: I didn't I promise! I don't know how Scar knew, I only-

Impulse: Stay away from him!

Ren: Impulse, you too?

Impulse: I'm not letting you do this!

Ren: Then you too shall perish.

Impulse starter to run dragging a shocked Skizz when.

Impulsesv was shot by Grian

Skizzleman was shot by Grian

Ren: Good job.

Grian: Thank you. Impulse still has a life however, we will see him again.

Grian: Seen Impulse recently?

Scott: Yeah, don't know what the two of you are doing this loop but whatever it is caused Impulse to steal my bit.

Grian: ...?

Scott: Yeah, you know, the grieving husband thing. Impulse is the one doing it now.

Grian: What are you going to do then?

Scott: I don't kno, I still have to figure it out.

Martyn: My lord, they have entered the castle-

Inthelittlewood was slain by Goodtimeswithscar

Ren: Me hand! No! ... Grian, protect your-

Grian: ...

Ren: Grian?

Grian: Long live the king.

Renthedog was slain by Grian

Loop #376

Scott had an... ok loop thus far. It started in Empires and then...nothing happened. And it continued not happening? And it was ok really, peaceful in a way, but it was also unusual and even a bit grating. Lizzie found the phropecy book ...and it didn't go anywhere. Then Xonorth arrived...and then disappeared randomly and didn't come up again. Scott was a bit on edge at this point.

Loop #378

Scott had started to get suspicious after the second loop of strangely nothing happening, especially after Jimmy started becoming distant. At the third loop of it happening again and Jimmy being even more isolated is when Scott finally made up his mind and cornered Jimmy.

Scott: Jimmy.

Jimmy: Uh- Hi Scott-

Scott: Don't "hi Scott" me, where the hell have you been for the last few weeks?

Jimmy: I... had important things to do-

Scott: Like...What?

Jimmy: Uh...

Scott: Jimmy, are you looping in time?

Jimmy: Wh-wha? Where...where did you get that idea? Weird...crazy-

Scott: I am too.

Jimmy: You are?!? Oh I'm not alone! Wait were you here the last time?

Scott: Yep, the one before that too.

Jimmy: How did I not notice?

Scott: I'm used to lying about it, It's hardly your fault.

Jimmy: But... how are you..used to it? This is like the 4th time back...

Scott: I have a lot to tell you.

Prev Next First

[cavity-collector]

i genuinely need to be put down like a dog i cant do this anymore man holy shit

[the-record]

☀️ i see the light ☀️

summary: ellie is just trying to hide from the guards when she stumbles apon a tower and a girl with really long hair.

pairing: flynn ryder!ellie williams x rapunzel!reader

warnings: non me things

a/n: i want to thank the oh so lovely @meowmeowtimw for sending me their gorgeous art, and also everyone who anticipated this fic. thank you so much for the love. also, first time doing a taglist, but let me know if you’d like to be added!

this is going to be done in parts bc my tumblr glitches and i dont want to lose any writing and delay this anymore! i have changed it up a bit from the movie to attempt to fit ellie as a character and not feel like im writing out the script but all the iconic moments will be included

you’re not quite sure how she ended up here. knocked out and stuffed in your wardrobe.

earlier, it had just been you and pascal. your mother out fetching ingredients for dinner, your birthday dinner.

she’d shut down your hopes and dreams of seeing the lights you saw every year for your birthday. she called them stars, made you feel fragile and weak. left with a half hearted goodbye.

thats when the girl showed up.

short auburn hair, climbing the tower with arrows. before you knew it, she was passed out on the floor, a frying pan in your hands.

in her bag though, that was the interesting piece. something gold and shiny, crystals decorating the circle. too big to be a bracelet, too beautiful to be a magnifying glass.

you and pascal jumped as your mother called up the tower, a surprise apparently. when you tried bringing up the lights once more, she’d simply laughed, brushing it off. you tried again, but gave up when she yelled, asking for paints.

she left, leaving you alone again. until you weren’t.

a girl, in your window.

now in your chair, tied up with pascal on her shoulder. he licked her ear, once, twice, three times before she jolted awake with a yell.

“what the hell?”

you took a deep breath, still hiding in a shadow.

“struggling… struggling is pointless.”

she looked around, taking in what was holding her down. was it, hair?

“i know why you’re here, and im not afraid of you.” slowly, you stepped into her view. “who are you, and how did you find me?”

“am i wrapped in hair?” the girl gawked at you, struggling under the wraps. “who am i? who are you? this is insane. this is kidnapping, just so you know.”

your face dropped. “you broke in first.”

“and you knocked me out and tied me up! with hair! who even has this much hair?” she groaned as she struggled.

“so you dont know who i am?” you whispered as you stepped closer.

she looked at you incredulously, “are you joking? of course not. can you let me out now?” you nodded as you stopped in front of her.

only now did you really notice her. short auburn hair, tied up at the back. green eyes that matched yours. freckles lining her nose and cheeks. lips slightly cracked and parted.

“ill let you out, if you promise me one thing.” she rolled her eyes but nodded. “every year, on my birthday, there are these lights. my mother told me they were stars, but ive tracked the stars for years.” you turned away and pulled back the curtain to your most recent painting. “they’re floating lights, and you are going to take me to them.” she hesitated but you quickly jumped in. “and if you don’t, say goodbye to your satchel.”

she sighed and relaxed into the chair. “alright, fine.” she smiled as your eyes lit up and you ran to her. “ill take you. but, we’re going my way.” you nodded excitedly as you untangled her from your hair. “and, im ellie by the way.”

“rapunzel.”

she shook out her limbs before standing. “rapunzel? pretty.”

“so you’ve really never been outside the tower before?”

ellie walked slightly ahead with her hands in her pockets, a small smile on her face. she said she knew a place to stop on your way to the kingdom.

you nodded as you took in everything. “she said it was too dangerous for me out here. that id get eaten alive.”

ellie frowned a bit as you spoke. you were definitely a bit ditzy, but smart. you weren’t naive but you noticed the good in everything you’d seen.

“so,” you pulled up beside ellie, nearly bumping her. “how did you find me?”

“i didn’t actually intend to.” she said, looking at you. “i was running, from… some very bad people, and i stumbled apon a pass in the woods. totally by accident. and when i went through it, there it was. the tower.” she watched as you nodded. “i figured id just, go up. i wasnt really thinking someone might be there.”

“obviously.” you teased.

she rolled her eyes, “alright whatever. i just needed somewhere to wait everyone out. and then you came out of nowhere and tried to maim me.”

you gasped, hitting her arm as she laughed. “i thought you were gonna hurt me! what was i supposed to do?”

“okay, fair enough.” you walked in silence for awhile, side by side, hands grazing.

ellie couldn’t help but feel a pull to you. you were kind, and funny. she hadn’t known you very long, but she knew she wanted to know more. and she couldn’t deny your beauty.

she was knocked out of her thoughts as you pointed to a sign in the distance.

snuggly duckling.

taglist: @urcherrr @onlinelesbo @diddiqueen @pedropascalsbbg @dinaismyfavmilf @madislayyy @ellieswilliamsgf @williamellieslilho @iove-bbb @swxxtbnny

[loomiseater]

Pissed (no this does NOT have any pee kinks)

warnings: smut ofc!, fem reader!, mean and toxic Rafe, dub con, Dacryphilia, choking, and, p in v. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: I’ve written fics before but it’s only for my notes, so this is the first fic I’ve written that’s being published. Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing. Would you believe this took me an hour to write?

request page

This definitely isn’t repost worthy 😭 but if you do please give creds. @Loomiseater (Tumblr).

Written: April 21, 2024

Published: April 21, 2024

Summary: Rafe is pissed that you were hanging out with the Pouges. 

“I go on vacation for a week! One fucking week! just to find out you were hanging out with those pouges?!” You could hear Rafe’s voice echoing from downstairs along with the door slamming. His footsteps were starting to get louder as he ran up the stairs angrily. 

You cover your face with the bed sheets to pretend like you’re asleep. The doorknob twists as Rafe comes rushing into the bedroom like a maniac. “Get up! I know you’re not sleep” He announced while yanking the sheets off of you. “I know you heard what I said downstairs!” He shouted. “Why are you so pissed that I wanted to hang out with my friends?” You say softly. When Rafe is angry, it’s best to speak to him in a calm, gentle voice so you don’t piss him off even more.

“Why am I so pissed?” He repeatedly uttered to himself like he heard the most unbelievable thing ever. You got up off the bed to try and calm him down but he pushed you right back down. “This is what I get for trying to fix a broke bitch” He said in a chuckle to himself. Your heart shattered at his words. Rafe has always been mean during arguments or when he’s upset but he’s never spoke this ill of you.

“Are you serious?” You asked as tears began to appear in your eyes. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?” He started off with a pointed finger. “I buy this big house for not only me but you too, I give you a weekly allowance so you don’t have to work, AND I took your ass out the Cut!” He yelled. It’s like his voice gets louder each time. “And this is how you repay me? Hm?” He questioned as his face got closer to yours. 

You tried your best not to cry but the tears started flowing and the sobs got louder. His hand wrapped around your neck and the oxygen for you was running out. “You are MY wife, understand?” Rafe questioned as you nodded your head. You tried to move his hand off your neck but he only tightened his grip. 

“I only do this because you’re not safe when hanging around Pouges” he explained as his eyes softened while moving some hair out of your face. Your chest was starting to hurt from all the pressure Rafe was putting on your neck. “P-please, let me go” the words struggled to come out of your mouth and Rafe finally released his hand from your neck. Nothing but choked sobs could come out as Rafe immediately apologized.

His face was filled with nothing but regret…this was the first time you’ve ever seen Rafe genuinely sorry. “I’m so sorry baby!” he expressed while moving his forehead against yours. “It’s okay” you say that but you didn’t really mean it. Deep down you’re terrified of Rafe. You know what he’s capable of. What he can do to you and get away with it.

“I just got into argument with my dad and- I took my anger out all on you” he explained anxiously. “No, really Rafe- like I said, I’m fine” you said while wiping the tears that were still falling.

“Y/n, don’t lie to me!” He said sternly as you jump a bit. He noticed this action and gently grabbed your hands. “Let me make it up to you” Rafe says while placing kisses down your neck. You weren’t really in the mood after what just happened. “Rafe. No” you say, unsure what’s about to happen next.

“Shut up, I’m making it up to you” he said while pushing you down on your back and leaving trails of kisses down your neck. It was like he didn’t care, but it’s always been like this. What Rafe wants, Rafe gets. He started places kisses to your exposed chest, you were in nothing but a bra and shorts. 

You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to do this but your body was telling you something else. The tension was thick between you and Rafe and your body was heating up. Your bra was being unclipped, he then threw it to the floor, not caring where it landed. He gently grabbed one of your breasts and started sucking on your nipple softly while looking you in the eye. You didn’t break eye contact with him, it was turning you on even more. Soft moans flew from your mouth as Rafe kept sucking.

“P-please” You choked out as Rafe let out a dark chuckle. “Please what? You want me to fuck you, huh?” He replied with that stupid smirk he always has. He slowly slid off your shorts and felt you. “All that resisting just for me to feel how wet you are” he laughed. He was right, after what he did to you, you were somehow soaked.

Rafe flipped you onto your stomach and left a hard smack to your ass. You hissed at how hard the slap was and it’s like he somehow got even harder. His dick was straining under the sweats he had on as he was pressing against your ass. You could feel kisses being placed on along your back along with a groan Rafe let out. He began take his clothes off and get on his knees behind you as you felt him shove himself in. It caught you off guard, resulting in you letting out a loud moan.

“Shit you’re so tight!” He expressed as he through his head back. He didn’t even wait for you to adjust, he began thrusting inside you like a mad man. The room was filled with nothing but the squelching sound from your pussy and grunts from Rafe’s mouth. “Fuck!” You muttered to yourself. You didn’t want to giveaway how much you were enjoying this but you're pretty sure your wetness spoke for itself. 

He pulled out and slammed back into you as you tightly grabbed the sheets beneath you. The familiar feeling was rising in your stomach. Rafe grabbed your hair and made sure your back was fleshed between his chest as he spoke into your ear. “Pussy so good, make me wanna put a baby in you” he grunted as you came all over his dick from just his words but that didn’t stop him. That was probably the loudest moan you’ve ever let out. 

“I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” You shout as tears flow from your eyes from the overstimulation. Rafe looked down at the mess you made on his dick and it made him whine, almost cumming at the sight in front of him. He pulled out and turn you back on your back. With no warning he put your legs on his shoulders and began thrusting. “Rafe!” You moaned as he was sliding in and out of you. Yours nails deeply scratched his back which led him to slower his thrusts. 

“Your so perfect” He said lowly. Nothing could come out from you except for sobs. “It’s too much Rafe!” You whined from all the stimulation. "You look so pretty when cry" And when Rafe saw you crying he let out a groan while cumming inside you. He began kissing you and rubbing your clit until your legs were shaking. It’s like he knew the exact moment you would finish. He pulled out as you squirted, letting his dick get covered in it while he began to thrust himself in his hand. This time, painting your thighs white.

“You did so good, baby” He says while placing a kiss to your forehead. You passed out on the pillow from your recent activity as Rafe got from off the bed and cleaned you with a wet hand towel.

[lovieku]

Good Luck, Babe! #1 ☆ jeon jungkook

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 10.4k +

☾ warnings: female oc named eunbi. explicit language. alcohol consumption. lots of flashbacks. mentions of menstrual cycle. misogyny (not jk). jk is one year older than eunbi. jk is a biker!! he doesn’t have tats and piercings though, that will come later. they’re currently in uni. jk is a film production student. eunbi is a literature student. awful abuse of italics. check masterlist for more!

☾ author’s note: hello!!! this is my first time doing this so please bear with me! english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes, if so please let me know. just in general, feedback is very appreciated :) as i mentioned, i never posted on tumblr before nor wrote an au in english so im kiiinda nervous about this… but i swear ill try to bring my idea to life in the best way possible and i wont make you regret reading this hehe… Also!!! each chapter is named after a song that reminds me of them <3 i hope you come to love eunbi and jeongguk as much as i do, maybe with time… thank you !

indexㅣnext

one ⋆ come back to me

Sitting across the table, he stares at her. The light of the twenty birthday candles reflecting in her eyes, the people surrounding her, his own friends. As she’s blowing out the candles, he wonders what she wished for. Does she ever wish to go back in time? Does she think of him, of what once was? Does she regret what happened? Jeongguk scoffs at his own thoughts, looking away from what’s in front of him. It makes his blood boil. How could she just forget?

“Did you even wish Eunbi a happy birthday?” It’s Dahye blocking his line of vision now. He looks up from where he’s sitting, pout on his face and eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Why would I? Would she ever do the same for me?” She would. Jeongguk knows he’s being petty, but he can’t help it.

His friend rolls her eyes, unspokenly conveying just how tired she is of this constant snubbing between Jeongguk and the birthday girl, “So you came to her party to do what? Sit here and burn holes into her skull? Fucking grow up Jeongguk, you’re being childish.” She forces him to get up, but as he does he’s not sure he can handle this whole situation for much longer.

Everyone is hugging her, but it all feels so fake. Her smiles and squeals directed to everyone else but him. He doesn’t even know why he’s still here, doesn’t wanna be part of this farce. He feels out of place with his own people. Why did she have to ruin this one thing he had created? Why did she have to be so likeable to everyone? He can keep lying to himself, arguing that there’s no actual reason, but he knows first hand that it doesn’t take much to become fond of her. She could be spotted in a million people. She’s effortlessly glowing, radiating the light of a thousand stars, and the light burns everything. It burns his eyes, his skin, his heart.

Jeongguk has to look down at his hands as he squeezes them into fists, trying to make sense of what’s happening. He’s letting anger take over, but he knows deep down what he truly feels is sadness. Helplessness, even. He looks up just to find her staring back at him, and is he reading hope in her eyes?

He needs to get out. Being in her presence isn’t healthy for him, especially on what’s supposed to be her day, her night. He can keep being resentful, but he knows he doesn’t want to ruin that for her. Walking away from the table, he reaches the backdoor of the pub and searches for a cigarette in his jacket. Stress is clouding his mind and he just needs to relax. Breathe.

In his pocket, he doesn’t only find the pack of cigarettes he’s now desperately trying to open, but also a reminder of how delusional he truly is. Jeongguk stupidly thought he could maybe muster the courage to go up to her and give her a little gift, just a sign of politeness, he thought to himself as he fished it out of a forgotten memory box. He knows ever since they saw each other again they’ve been acting petty. Purposefully ignoring each other as if nothing ever was. He thought he could at least put an end to this. Hand her a bracelet he still keeps from their childhood as a request for a truce.

Jeongguk shakes his head and scoffs. He feels crazy. Insane, even. Is he really the only one thinking so much about how weird this whole new dynamic between them is? He knows they haven’t seen each other in years, of course things have changed, but why is she acting as if he is at fault? As if he’s the one who should apologise? He fumbles with the cigarette and struggles to keep it still in his mouth. Just then, he realises he doesn’t have a lighter on him.

”Fucking hell,” he looks up, maybe searching for help, talking to something greater than him. “Why do you hate me, God?”

”Bad day?” Jeongguk startles. He knows that voice. Turning around, he guessed exactly who it belonged to. She takes out a lighter and puts it between them, waiting for him to take it. Such a small gesture seems to mean infinitely more.

”Uh, thanks.” Jeongguk is aware of how pathetic he sounds right now, voice small and low. “Um, happy birthday. I guess.” I guess? What the fuck?

Eunbi chuckles, amused by the way he’s acting. He swears that makes him even angrier, he feels like fucking screaming. “Thanks. We’re eating cake. Come back there when you’re done?” She stands there a few more seconds, just staring at him. She expects Jeongguk to say something, anything. Even give her a smile, a nod of his head. None of that happens.

With her hair styled in a half ponytail, perfectly tied at the back with a white bow, she nods to herself and walks away, leaving the lighter in Jeongguk’s hand. He’s left speechless. That’s their first proper interaction after years. That’s all they could say to each other. He feels the hole in his chest, that he had managed to almost fully close, reopen at such a rapid speed, and he feels the urge to get out of that place immediately. Like hell he’s going back there.

Cigarette long forgotten, Jeongguk throws it somewhere in his jacket’s big pockets along with the lighter, and tries to make himself unnoticed while he frantically searches for the exit. Why the fuck are there so many people out drinking on a Monday night?

He feels bad for leaving his friends without any warning but he’s afraid one more second here could cause permanent damage to his brain. There's no point in staying any longer whatsoever.

“What a fucking waste of time.” Muttering to himself, he pushes the door open and walks ahead, keeping his head low while fishing for his bike keys in his jeans.

“Jeongguk?” Of fucking course, he thinks as his eyes close for a second, searching for the little patience he had left. Eunbi’s voice fills the much quieter parking lot outside the pub, the sound echoing and making him stop in his tracks, helmet already in his hands as he turns around.

“You're leaving?” If he didn't know her (and he would argue he actually doesn't anymore) Jeongguk would think there's a cloud of sadness in her voice. He slightly shakes his head and looks behind his shoulders. Scratches his head. Anything to escape what is happening.

“Yeah, it's quite late. I have a 9 a.m. tomorrow. Don't wanna miss it.” He's lying. He doesn't have lectures on Tuesdays, and even if he did, he's no stranger to skipping classes. He doesn’t care if the girl knows all about his ways. Hell, being in the same uni friend group doesn’t actually allow to really avoid seeing each other every fucking day of the week.

“Right,” she nods, kicking the pebbles under her feet. He notices she chose to wear Converses even under the flowy white mini dress she has on, and they still look like she never cleans them. Then she hesitates, “Wait a second? I’ll bring you a piece of cake to take home. It's your favourite, double chocolate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even give her a nod of his head. The birthday girl looks like she’s waiting for it though, some sign of reassurance. She’s left with none of that again, and figures she should be as quick as possible to avoid Jeongguk leaving without knowing she truly appreciated him being here.

He scoffs at the sight he catches a glimpse of through the pub’s window, the girl frantically recovering a piece of the dessert she claims she knows it’s still his favourite — it is. At that, he almost thinks of waiting for her. Almost. He doesn't, his petty nature taking over. He hops on the bike, helmet on, revving the engine to finally get the fuck out of there. No waiting, no warning. After all, it's not like she'd ever warned him before disappearing.

Jeongguk feels absent for most of the ride back to his cramped rented flat. Dissociated. Mind full of thoughts (and maybe regret) but body so relaxed and at ease because of the gentle summer breeze brushing his skin. It’s nights like these that take him way back, places in his brain that he’s sick of visiting. Jeongguk actually doesn’t remember a lot, doesn’t keep on too many memories of his past. Instead, he thinks he’s probably cursed with having every moment with her carved in his head, from the first time he saw her to the last.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Mom, I'm going outside!” A ten years old Jeongguk rushed down the stairs, hands full and voice shaking with excitement. Once again, he gathered as many toys as he could and his trusted camera to go play outside the porch.

Laying on the sofa, his mom was concerned Jeongguk would fall with how eager he was in his movements, “Alright baby, stay off the road though!” The apprehension was short lived, the woman letting a sigh out of her mouth, knowing taming little Jeongguk was mission impossible.

Nonetheless, Mrs. Jeon had always believed her son to be very intelligent for his age, both academically and emotionally. He had already developed a great sense of responsibility and empathy, especially towards his peers, so she never once doubted his actions.

On the other hand, Jeongguk felt a sense of loneliness. Being an only child during summer meant many things, one of them being the fact that he was bound to be alone most of the time since schools were closed. And so he would do what he liked the most. He would go out and film.

Usually, the subjects were his own mother, or father. But sometimes he enjoyed making scenarios on his own, pretending to be a great director and moving his actors — his toys — however he wanted, “One, two, three… action! We're rolling!”

His passion for photography and movies had grown increasingly over the past year, also due to him finding his new favourite thing ever in an old box of his dad, a Samsung SCD71.

As Barbie was about to finally kiss Ken under an imaginary stormy downpour, which Jeongguk was trying to make as believable as possible, a sudden noise had completely obscured the microphone of the camera, probably making the recording unusable. “What’s going on…” Jeongguk directed the camcorder towards the origin of the annoying sound, and through the lenses he caught sight of a moving truck that had just parked on the road. More specifically, it stopped in front of the house next to his, which he had learnt to be empty. Up to that day, apparently.

Curiosity had always been one of the most striking and dominant aspects of Jeongguk's personality, which he probably got from his dad. Camera hanging around his neck, he got up, hopped the fence and got closer to the truck, still careful not to get on the road, just as his mommy had advised him.

Jeongguk came closer, spotting a girl about his age carrying a box double her size. Her voice could be heard, even if suppressed by the weight of those items, “Mom, why do I need to carry these things, they're so heavy!” The girl whined fruitlessly, her mom going on about how she was just being dramatic, “Eunbi, just leave it on the porch and your dad will take care of it.”

To Jeongguk, it didn’t look like the kid was being dramatic. Those boxes seemed hard to even pick up. He bit his lip deep in thought, so much he didn’t even realise his feet moving on their own and getting even closer to the scene. Before he knew it, he asked, “Do you need help with that?” He felt the urge to lend a hand, just because that was in his nature.

The little girl was startled, almost losing balance at hearing a stranger’s voice directed at her. She couldn’t see who it was because of the box limiting her view, but she figured it didn’t belong to someone much older than her. When she put the carton down, she got confirmation that she guessed right. Still, her first instinct was defensive, “Huh? Who are you? And no, I don't need any help, thank you.”

It was Jeongguk’s turn to be startled. Initially left speechless, he tilted his head at being rejected when he was just trying to be nice. No problem, he’ll try again, “Oh, okay but… you were just saying the box is heavy?”

The snappy girl furrowed her brows, seemingly much mature for the age she was showing, “Yes, but that doesn't imply that I can't carry it.” Arms crossed, she looked proud of the reply she came up with, but really was just waiting for her dad to do something about the weighty box.

Tilting his head to the other side, Jeongguk reminded the girl of her little black poodle she had to leave back in her old town with her grandma. Big brown eyes and long hair, the boy pouted in thought, “Im- imply? What's that?” What can he say, he had always preferred scientific subjects.

“Whatever.” Eunbi — was that her name? — looked around in hopes to find her parents, who were inside, busy unboxing the most important items to get the long process of moving out started. When she stared back at the boy, she sighed, “I guess you can help me.”

Jeongguk chuckled contentedly, suddenly very pleased with carrying heavy things for a girl he didn’t even know. “What’s your name?” He tried to make conversation while they both went back and forth with the cartons, a silent competition between them on who was faster.

”I’m Song Eunbi… you?” Both too tired to keep carrying other stuff, they sat down on the stairs of the door to her new house, which she didn’t seem that excited about.

“Oh, I'm Jeon Jeongguk, I live next door. I came here because of the noise, heh.” He smiled a big one, showing his teeth and almost fully closing his eyes. That caused the younger one to smile too, starting to let her guard down. With the boxes out of the question, she noticed a big object hanging around his neck, “Woah… what’s that?”

She reached to touch the Samsung camcorder but he was quicker, grabbing it and tugging it to his chest in a protective manner. The pigtails girl retracted her hand, a slow pout coming on her face but not fully developing, because before that could happen Jeongguk had recovered with a jolt of his head, “Sorry, don’t like people touching it. It’s a camera. I use it to record and stuff. You wanna see?”

Eunbi didn’t reply, wary of the device in Jeongguk’s hand, and she just watched him maneuver it as if it was his job. When he gasped, she returned the attention to his face, “It was still recording. Forgot to turn it off…” He seemed more as if he was muttering to himself, but then he also shifted his gaze towards her.

Lifting the lenses up to his face, Jeongguk pointed the camera towards his — hopefully — new friend, “Do you wanna say hi?” He zoomed in and out, focusing on the background then on her. “Huh… hi.” She smiled sweetly and the boy remained on that view for more seconds than necessary, before ending the recording.

The initially grumpy girl seemed to share that same curiosity that characterised Jeongguk so well, because she eagerly started asking the older kid questions about the camera, and he easily complied.

They spent the next two hours watching Jeongguk’s self-directed short movies, in which Barbie was always somewhat saved by Ken; and then Eunbi was so inspired by that, she tore open her toy box and instructed Jeongguk just how to direct the sequel of one specific film he had showed her.

His mom was scared, to say the least. Opening the front door to call Jeongguk for dinner and not instantly seeing him. Panic, panic, panic. None of that was occurring in Jeongguk’s head, though. He was so excited to have new toys that he could use to fulfil his director dream, and Eunbi seemed happy too. Together, they created the most original stories that the only child could surely have never come up with on his own.

When Jeongguk thought he heard his mom’s voice, for the first time throughout those endless hours he lifted his head up from the camera. “Baby! Oh, thank God, I was so scared.” His mom came rushing towards him, holding his head to her chest.

Toys dropped to the ground, Jeongguk looked at his mother and the clear height difference made him also aware of how dark the sky had turned compared to when he first walked out his door.

“We were just about to come around!” At that exact moment, Eunbi’s parents walked down the stairs of their porch to greet Mrs. Jeon, “Our pleasure, you must be Jeongguk’s mom?”

The mentioned lady only nodded her head, anxiety still struggling to leave her body after thinking she just lost her only son. “I am… Um, I’m sorry about him,”

”No, don’t even!” Eunbi’s mom interrupted, “He’s been nothing but a sweetheart. We would love to have him, you and your husband over for dinner this week. We just moved in and it’d be nice to make friends.” She admitted, slightly embarrassed that her flow of thoughts made her say that out loud.

While the adults were sharing adults-stuff talk, Jeongguk managed to escape his mom’s embrace and go back to his new friend. He pointed the camera to himself, “I’m sorry, my dear public, but the movie has been interrupted.” Jeongguk announced with the saddest voice, looking over at Eunbi who nodded just as dramatically.

Now with the lenses on her, she sighed, “Yes, sadly. Will Barbie save Ken from the zombie apocalypse?” She sounded genuinely upset they didn’t get to find out, “I guess we’ll never know.”

They did find out. Made another four sequels that summer. Jeongguk will forever hold that to his heart as the best he’s ever had, the first time in his 10 years of life he spent the scorching season with a friend by his side, making the heat and the boredom bearable.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Are you even listening to me?” Jimin looks at Jeongguk, annoyance clear on his features when he notices the younger one isn’t paying attention to his rant about cafeteria prices being ridiculously high. They had decided to try and get some assignments done in a coffee shop that had just recently opened, but actually ended up talking about anything but university. Jimin waves a hand in front of the brown haired boy’s face, “Earth to Jeongguk?”

The mentioned boy shakes his head, lifting it from the palm on which he was resting his cheek, “Huh? Sorry, what was that?” Jeongguk hadn't meant to space out, but lately it seems like it's been easier to get lost in his thoughts. Jimin's eyes soften visibly as he sighs.

“It was nothing important,” now that the blonde guy has his friend’s attention again, he thinks of shooting the question he’s been careful about asking. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come out tomorrow evening. The whole group is going.” Hope fills Jimin's voice and he forces his biggest smile, knowing convincing Jeongguk to go out these past weeks had been close to impossible.

Jeongguk studies his best friend’s face, squinting his eyes suspiciously, “Is she gonna be there?” Such a simple question completely shutters the already minuscule hope Jimin had left.

Still, the blonde head tries to act unbothered, “I did just say that the whole group is going too.” He searches for the younger’s eyes but it looks like he’s already set on a firm answer.

“Then no.” Jeongguk replies, his eyes low on the table, picking up every uninteresting detail he can catch. He knows there’s no actual reason for him to reject Jimin’s invitation. He also knows it’s been a while since he started being this difficult over simple matters he wouldn’t have stressed about months ago. What he doesn’t know is since when he started feeling like he doesn't belong among his own friends. Or better, he does, yet he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

The older of the pair sighs, fixing his hair and trying to find a solution to his friend’s sudden change in demeanour, “You know, you really should talk to her. Sort this thing out between you two.” His voice is careful, almost too delicate. Jimin had always been a big advocate in the truce between the two, if there had even been a war to begin with, yet never managed to make Jeongguk reason with him.

No matter how gentle Jimin was trying to be, he still gets an unwanted reaction from the other man, who now crosses his arms on his chest and furrows his brows. “Oh, so I should be the one to talk first. Why can't it be her? No one ever thinks of the way I’m feeling.” Once again, Jeongguk is being unreasonably difficult. He hates the words he chooses as soon as they come out of his mouth.

Jeongguk knows his friends deeply care for him, especially the one in front of him. They had been glued together since the day they met, now even sharing an apartment. They weren’t totally compatible for multiple reasons, but that’s probably why they became so close. They both added elements that were missing to each other and created a smooth dynamic, a connection able to transcend many barriers.

That’s why Jeongguk knows he can be as childish as he wants, because Jimin will always find the right words to put him in his rational mind again, “Guk, what I’m trying to say is… This is genuinely not healthy for you. You’ve been stressing so much over this and detaching yourself from the others.”

The brown haired boy keeps eye contact with his friend now, no longer escaping confrontation. He’ll admit he’s tired of running. Jimin really hopes his eyes can help his words convey how he feels about this, “They’ve asked me if you’re okay, you know. They noticed. They miss you when you’re not there.”

Hearing this makes Jeongguk bite his lip and look away in thought. He’s never been like this. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be like this. Feels terrible knowing his friends have probably interpreted him being more absent in a completely wrong way. No one else knows about the real reason, except Jimin.

He feels stupid when he realises just seeing her again had taken such a toll on him, when really he loves being surrounded by his people. The people who have been by his side this past year, who made university bearable, with whom he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Now, one of them is in front of him, trying anything to get him to say a simple yes, “C’mon? It’s gonna be fun, we can just be on our own if you w-“

“Jimin. It’s okay. I’m coming.” He doesn’t know if it’s an impulsive decision, but seeing the incredulous smile on the blonde guy’s face makes him not dwell too much on what he just agreed to.

Jimin scoots his seat closer, putting his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, “Really? You’ll come?” Seeing the other boy just nodding at his questions, he makes a sound close to a squeal and claps his hands, “It’s gonna be so fun. The best party we’ve ever been to. I promise!”

The younger one just laughs while Jimin goes on about how he has to update the group chat on Jeongguk’s presence and, “Should we plan our fits? I was thinking of wearing that shirt Hobi lent me that I never gave back.”

Jeongguk laughs, genuinely surprised that his presence could lift Jimin’s spirit up so much. He has been too harsh on himself ever since she made her appearance, thinking it wouldn’t make a difference if he was there or not for the others. Fuck her. Those are his friends too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As soon as he heard the house phone ring, he picked it up. There could be three possible people calling: his aunt, his grandmother, or Eunbi. Guessing by the time displayed on his computer, it had to be the third. With how much the two of them spent talking over the phone (even if they lived next to each other) Jeongguk had asked his mom to get him a desk phone of his own, so it could be easier to call.

Pausing the game he had been close to finishing, he moved the device to his ear, “Hello?”

“Jeongguk…” Noises close to sobs could be heard on the other line, making the boy worry. It was definitely his neighbour’s voice, but something about it was not right.

With his eyes unconsciously wide open, making them bigger than they already were, he got up from his seat on the desk, “Bee? Everything okay?”

Silence was what he was met with initially, until he could hear sniffing and shuffling, “Huh… I don’t know. I think I got the… thing.”

At that, Jeongguk slowed down. Panic slowly left his body, which automatically sat down again on the chair. The boy almost didn’t consider a very important feature characterising his best friend: her being totally over dramatic about anything slightly outside of her usual routine.

If one single hair was out of place; if someone didn’t agree with her; if Jeongguk picked Toad instead of his usual Luigi in Mario Kart. Little meaningless actions that could get Eunbi to either yell, cry, or both.

When anything of the sort would get that reaction out of the girl, Jeongguk would do the most to be an absolute menace and make it ten times worse, just because he enjoyed bickering with her.

However, he knew not to do that in situations like these, when he didn’t know if she was genuinely hurt and needed some sort of comfort, protection. That’s why he did his best to understand the situation, “What… thing are we talking about exactly?”

“I… This is disgusting. But my parents are out, I’m home alone, and,” she sobbed “I need diapers but like, for women.” Another hiccup escaped her.

The boy on the other side didn’t know how to react. Had a vague idea of what could have happened but wasn’t that confident to assume, “What the heck are you talking about.”

“Jeongguk! Just get me those things and come here!” The line got cut abruptly and for a second Jeongguk sat there, just listening to the endless beeping. It resembled what was happening within his brain cells. Think, think, think.

He was pretty sure he saw his mother buying diapers-like stuff, came across them a few times in the bathroom. Knew every time she complained about pain, his dad automatically went out to buy those for her; figured it’s what Eunbi needed and begged for.

Putting the phone down, he sprinted to the upstairs bathroom, glad his parents were still downstairs, probably watching those game shows they love, assuming from their laughter. Which is also how he thought they would react if they saw him digging through his mom’s drawer looking for pads.

He found two types, “Why do they make one for day and one for night…” As he inspected them, he figured he should bring both and let the pained girl try them on or something. Do they go by size? This is weird.

Jeongguk took everything he could find and put it in his backpack, hurriedly going down the stairs and just then realising he had to come up with an excuse to his parents’ questioning eyes.

“Huh… Eunbi wanted to show me a new game she got. I’ll be back in a few.” He nodded enthusiastically, more to himself for being so quick on the spot, and rapidly exited the door before anything his parents said could stop him.

When he rang the doorbell, the first time wasn’t successful. He unconsciously bit his lip and tried again, worried something might have happened. With his finger hovering over the buzzer for a third time, the door suddenly opened and a messy haired Eunbi pulled him in.

“This is insane. I’m only eleven. This can’t be happening, Gguk. I used Dad’s computer to look this up and it’s saying this comes every month. Every month!” His back to the door, the boy was held hostage by his babbling best friend on the verge of a serious crisis, “This is the end of m-“

“Jesus Christ, stop.” Jeongguk put his hands on her shoulders, trying to get the scared girl to stop panicking, “I got what you need. They’re called pads, by the way. Also, why do I know more about this than you?” The older boy knew he shouldn’t be pissing off his already very pissed off neighbour, but he can’t help it. Loved making fun of her.

Still, with Eunbi’s voice being surely audible even from outside the house, yelling at him for disrespecting her, he took out the women-diapers and handed them to her, “Listen, I’m not sure how these work. I can look it up online, if you w-“

“No, oh my god. You don’t wanna see what I saw. I’ll figure this out.” Tugging the five packs of pads to her chest, she nodded confidently. She rocked on her heels, lifting her shoulders up and then down releasing a long sigh, almost as if she was waiting for something else. Jeongguk exchanged her (not so) convinced nod, not sure what else to do, “Huh… Okay, go.”

“Yes! Right,” Nodding again, this time repeatedly, she turned around. Not even one step in, she spinned to face the older boy again, embarrassment dancing on her cheeks, “Um… actually, stand outside the door?” She smiled her sweetest one and, without waiting for an answer, dragged him to the bathroom door, closing it to his face but still talking through the whole thing, oh, I think it fits like this; no, maybe like that. This doesn’t feel so bad. Just sticky. Jeongguk wasn’t sure this was what he agreed to when becoming friends with a girl.

Twenty minutes later, the newly menstruating girl came out of the room, looking up at her best friend. He was glad something different was now showing on her face, something close to relief, “I feel better, Gguk. I feel like this is a new beginning,” which was followed by her endless ranting — review and all — on this new experience. She couldn’t believe she shared her first period with Jeongguk. Heck, Jeongguk couldn’t either.

“Why didn’t you just call your mom?” With a movie playing in the background, only after an hour of looking up “menstrual cycle” online, he genuinely wondered why he was the one there instead of her mom or one of her girl friends.

By the looks of it, Eunbi didn’t take the simple question that well, “I get it, you hate me, you think I’m annoying and-“

“God, you get what I mean when I say you’re over dramatic?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That version of Eunbi feels much closer to the one that’s in front of him right now, turned around and waiting in line to get inside the club all their friends decided to go to together. After agreeing impulsively, there was much rethinking on his side, but Jimin would keep begging him to just come, it’ll be a fun night.

Sure. There he is. Not even in, and already hating every second of it. It was not only because of her, Jeongguk just didn’t get the hype around dancing for hours and being suffocated by other sweating drunk bodies. To be completely honest, he dreaded these places. Now even more, having to witness Eunbi fighting with random men that take pissing people off as a hobby.

The worst thing that could happen to her already over dramatic personality is being joined by the origin of drama itself, Dahye. The latter is actually the reason why the now yelling girl became part of his friend group. In the middle of last semester, she had to look for a roommate and fate wanted her to be the last person on earth he wished to see again, especially in Seoul. However, they instantly kicked off and she got introduced to the others, which also included Jeongguk. Imagine his face when he saw her.

Everything led to this moment though, with Eunbi and Dahye entertaining the dumb, probably already drunk guys over an even dumber argument, “How are you judging me for drinking a Sex on the Beach when you literally reek of beer, the worst beverage on earth.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he’s glad or not that the girl didn’t lose her blabbering tendencies, the little kid inside him enjoying the bickering and seeing her worked up over dismissible issues. However, no matter if she’s discussing cocktails or science, he feels like keeping his guard up high this time, just because these men don’t look like they have the best intentions, and he doesn’t want anybody to get hurt. Anybody.

He’s proved right when they emit the ugliest laughs at Eunbi’s claims, with one of them getting almost all up in her face, which Jeongguk doesn’t like at all. He takes a step further, securing a safer spot behind the girls in case something happens and he has to intervene. You never know with the two roommates, it’s not the first time they’ll be causing a scene. It’s not because he cares about the shorter girl. He’s just worried about her potentially getting the group kicked out. Yeah.

Licking his lips, the bald guy (not even an inch taller than the girls in flat sandals) squares the Sex on the Beach girl up and down, doesn’t look like he’s close to letting the stupid fight go, “Let me guess, the cocktail, those shoes, the attitude… You probably study some dumb shit like Psychology, huh?”

Such a meaningless statement gets all his minions to laugh, patting his shoulders and making more comments amongst themselves. Dahye rolls her eyes, unamused by the whole act, “That’s not the outrage you think it is, babe.”

That only gets the drunk men to laugh more, Jeongguk squeezing his fists for a second and instantly reading the look on the other angered girl’s face, knowing she’s probably ready to turn this into the worst night of every present person’s life just for the sake of her degree’s reputation.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. It’s Literature, you dickwad. You know, you're single-handedly making engineers’ notoriety even worse than it actually is.” Jeongguk knows there’s no stopping Eunbi, but he wishes he could right now. He’s glad the girl is able to stand her own ground, but is also afraid this may end horribly.

The counterpart of the diss seems taken aback, his two brain cells struggling even more because of the alcohol in his body, “How do you know I’m an engineer?”

Having it served on a silver plate, the girl in her short dress smirks, “‘Cause you look like a fucking dick.”

The men feign their surprise, the guy that mainly entertained the conversation saying something along the lines of Wanna see?, pointing at his down area and snickering, while his friends act like he’s the absolute peak of comedy.

Jeongguk has to clench his jaw, not at all pleased with how the situation is escalating. He knows Eunbi can handle such stuff, but he swears he’s one more comment away from stepping in.

On the other hand, she doesn’t seem to mind, not even thinking of backing up and showing the guy her pointer finger and thumb almost touching, indicating the guy’s size. Jeongguk slightly smirks. Then immediately wipes that off his face. He doesn’t find her funny.

“You know, this is the third time you end up talking about my dick,” the bastard is getting closer to his friends, and Jeongguk hates that. “You’re funny, you just need to be disciplined.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, Eunbi doesn’t hesitate to invade the guy’s personal space too, holding eye contact, ready to literally throw hands if not for Dahye quickly catching her arm to move her away.

The bald head scoffs, before adding the filthiest shit his misogynistic limited mind could come up with, “If you ever need this engineer’s dick when whatever you’re studying leaves your ass on the sidewalk, you can come suck it for a couple of wons.”

Jeongguk sees absolute red for a second. He’s had more than enough now, putting a hand on Eunbi’s shoulder before anything more than an incredulous gasp could leave her mouth. He makes himself noticed, not that it was hard with his taller figure, taking matters in his own hands, “What the hell is your problem, man?”

When the mentioned guy diverts his eyes from the girl he just degraded and moves them on Jeongguk, he takes a step back. Still, he doesn’t stop his dirty mouth from running, “Shit, is she already busy with you? Sorry, man.”

His group laughs at that too, and the taller boy unconsciously squeezes his hand on the girl’s shoulder, clenching his jaw. “You’re fucking disgusting. Get the fuck out of here before I make you.”

What his eyes convey is definitely stronger than the words he lets out, wishing he could destroy every bone in the guy’s body, who now knows to stop being so smart. He mutters a few more comments though, making it harder for Jeongguk to not act upon his violent thoughts, “I’ll give you three fucking seconds.”

That makes the guy lift his hands up in surrender and finally turn the other way, distancing himself even from his friends, who don’t find him amusing anymore.

Jeongguk thinks the whole thing is over, but of course he should have trusted his wide knowledge on the fussy girl’s behaviour more, and predicted that she wouldn’t have let it go so easily, “Oh, so now that a man broke in you shut up, huh? Come talk, you little pus-“

“Eunbi. C’mon. We have to get in,” It’s — strangely — Dahye who doesn’t go along with her roommate and instead directs her to the entry, assuring her how there’s going to be no more trouble and just a long night of fun. The other girl just scoffs, too busy looking back at those men to try and get them to react again, but when she’s inside and she loses sight of them she finds her eyes meeting Jeongguk’s, who is directly behind her.

The interaction is awkward, to say the least. She slightly bows at him in recognition, while he just nods and does his best to avoid finding her eyes again, resorting to turning around in search for Jimin, probably way behind with Hoseok.

He’s so thankful when he feels a pat on his shoulder, and looking to his side it’s Namjoon that pulls him into a side hug, “That was tuff, man.”

“Ah, nothing,” Jeongguk nods, adrenaline still struggling to leave his body and not allowing him to relax. He follows his friend’s steps even if they’re going in the same direction as the person he’s now even more than before trying to avoid. He didn’t plan to be this close to her for so long.

“I thought you hated,” the taller guy uses his chin to refer to the girl in front of them. “But here you are defending her.”

The other guy is glad for the loud music playing, the last thing he wanted was for the mentioned girl to hear. He also doesn’t want Namjoon or anyone else to think that was him coming in her defence. It was just common sense. Doesn’t know why he felt like breaking the guy’s nose though. Figures that’s common sense too.

Before he can justify himself, the remaining members of the group reach them, giving Jeongguk the chance to get away from the sight of the girl but still feeling a burning sensation on his tongue. The need to make himself clear.

The chaotic atmosphere is even more emphasised by his already tipsy friends telling him again and again how happy they are to see him here, shaking him by the shoulders with way too much enthusiasm. Now distracted by the earlier incident, he just jokes with them like usual, but he feels a nervous sensation creeping up his neck. With a drink in his hand, he tries to follow the music, but he can’t seem to focus.

When Jeongguk finds Namjoon again, who was already handed a drink by Jimin, he gets close to his ear, replying to his previous insinuation, “I wasn’t- defending her.”

The older guy furrows his brows at him, signalling the conversation being over and certainly not that important, “Sure, man.” Showing his thumbs up, Namjoon scream sings some lyrics at him, Jeongguk still feeling a bit uneasy. He just needed to specify that. He was not defending Eunbi. Well, technically. But Dahye was there too, and she’s his friend. Of course he would have done th-

“Ggukkie!” It’s Jimin’s voice pulling him away from his thoughts, but also pulling him closer to the floor, “I’m so happy you’re here! This is fun, no?”

Jeongguk nods and chuckles at his best friend’s horrific dance moves, just now realising how tipsy he already is but taking it as the opportunity to fully let what happened go.

The rest of the night is unexpectedly fun. He’s surrounded by great energy that his friends keep oozing, and he realises just how much he had missed laughing to the point of his stomach hurting. Shouting when the group's favourite songs came on. Chuckling at a way too drunk Hoseok trying to get him to move his hips a bit more. Of course, he should have predicted his friends’ main goal is to get absolutely shit faced tonight. He isn’t really in the mood for that, though enjoying the state of the others while too much alcohol is flowing in their bodies.

No drinking means Jeongguk’s social battery is running out much faster than the others’, not having enough energy to entertain the constant back and forth between his friends, and certainly to handle them not even needing one single break from the dance floor.

At some point during the endless dancing, he settles on just being by the bar counter, sitting on a stool and taking no more than a few sips from the drink Jimin had given him as soon as he had stepped foot in the club, which was hours ago by now. He doesn’t know why, but alcohol tastes awful on his tongue tonight and it’s a task on its own to even swallow it.

”Can I buy you a drink?” It comes from a silky voice on his right, close enough to startle him slightly before he recollects and takes in the girl looking at his face expectantly. She has soft features framed by smooth blonde hair, completely contrasted by her intense makeup and burgundy mini dress. So far from his type, but Jeongguk entertains it for some reason.

”Well, you stole my line there,” the smile he gives her is gentle but playful and it sets the girl into a fit of giggles, clearly amused by the mysterious dark guy sitting alone by the bar. And that’s exactly what she tells him, ”I had to give it a try, you get me? I love boys that look just like they need to be fixed.”

“That is absolutely ridiculous,” he genuinely laughs, and he’s joined by her. Jeongguk can’t lie, the conversation between them takes off right from the start. It’s a nice back and forth that takes his mind off things for a while, not enough to actually give into her flirty intentions, but enough to eventually move to the dance floor with her. She’s witty and he likes that about her. Abbey? Ashley? He clearly doesn’t like her enough to remember. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

He can’t bring himself to, especially when his line of vision falls right on a tipsy Dahye-less Eunbi next to what seems to be more than one guy. She’s laughing a lot and he’s sure none of what the men are spluttering can be that funny. It’s probably just the alcohol, and that is enough for him to keep him observing. Only to make sure nothing bad happens.

Abbey-Ashley must have noticed his sudden disinterest, and with boldness she wraps her short arms around his neck, bringing him way too close to her face than he had planned to be to any woman this night. The eye contact is uncomfortable, and Jeongguk is itching to keep checking on whatever was happening not too far from him, but the blonde speaks her wittiness again, “You won’t let me offer you a drink and you’re not willing to dance with me, is this how men feel?”

The pearly smile on her face lets him know the setting between them is still playful, so he just shakes his head letting a small giggle out of his mouth. Now with the woman almost hanging from his neck, he resolves on just going along with her moves, and when he steals a glance at the girl he was previously keeping an eye on and sees her staring back he feels a sense of unwarranted satisfaction.

He keeps searching for that, wanting more of that groundless feeling but all he’s met with is more and more flashes of her digging a hole he’s afraid she’s gonna fall in, with the men acting way too friendly and her drunk mind not noticing. Or just not caring.

When the blonde in front of him starts being a little too inclined on taking the physical contact further, he regrets not even finishing his previous and only drink of the night, wishing he could give in but knowing he can’t with his mind thinking way too rationally and being too aware of his surroundings. He genuinely thinks Abbey-Ashley is a nice girl, and he feels sorry knowing he’s going to reject her. Thinks it was kind of fuckboy-ish for him to go along with her knowing they’re on two completely different lines, but still doing it because it seemed like the quickest escape from his running mind.

He gently puts his hands on her waist, intent on moving her away and trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, when he hears his name being called and for the second time tonight, he’s glad Namjoon’s parents fucked. ”Hey, JK- oh shoot, am I interrupting something?”

The smokey eyed girl breaks away from her moment and seems suddenly very interested in hearing Jeongguk’s answer, batting her eyelashes at him in hopes of getting a different reaction from what she knows the evident one is going to be. She did know the brown haired man was not interested; she still figured she could try and change that.

Jeongguk moves his gaze from his friend to the girl and hesitates, “Huh… not really.” He gives an awkward tight lipped smile, thinking this is fucking embarassing, then tries not to read too much in Namjoon’s weirded out expression, “What’s up?”

“Everybody is leaving, Jimin and Dahye already did with Hoseok after throwing up on three sofas.” Namjoon scoffs, rolling his eyes amusedly, “Anyway, see you in uni?”

Jeongguk has a few questions he’s afraid to know the answer to, but still he daps up his friend and then inevitably searches with his eyes for Eunbi, the reason for his worry. He knows Dahye, her usual ride home, will kill him if he lets her roommate wander off with some random men while drunk. Hell, he himself wouldn’t let that happen. He dislikes the girl, but he’s still human.

Jeongguk stresses even more when he sees her directed towards the exit with said guys. He completely disconnects from what the burgundy dressed girl is telling him, only picking up a “Can I get your number, though?”

Maybe it’s his guiltiness acting, or just him wanting to find a quick escape, but he does share his number in surely unanswered hope that she’s going to give up reaching out to him eventually. That does get her to part ways though, not before a sneaky kiss is left on his cheek. He really wants to kill Eunbi.

His next steps are directed towards her, ready to re-enact his previous success at getting rid of those beer stinking misogynists, but he’s left surprised, and in some sense relieved, when he sees her standing alone, arms wrapped around her small freezing figure with her phone to her ear. When he gets closer, he’s able to catch her muttering nasty remarks towards Dahye, so bad that he believes her roommate can feel them right now, in her probably passed out state and all.

”Fucking fuck, why is she not answering,” Before she can dial her number for the fifth time, she spots Jeongguk on her right, and for the first time since they saw each other again in years, she seems glad that he’s there, “Jeongguk!” Her voice is giddy, and he thinks he hasn’t heard his name being said like that in a long time.

Still, he keeps an unbothered act up while standing in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, “Dahye went home already. I’m guessing she was your ride home.”

Now, he knows she’s overdramatic, but with alcohol flowing through her system that trait of her surely reaches its finite form. She lets out an incredulously loud gasp, mouth hanging and all, and whispers some more insults under her breath. When she still doesn’t reply, he listens more attentively to what she’s muttering and he latches on to her intention of going back home with a taxi, “I have 9,000 won on me, so that will probably do, Eunbi…”

He witnesses beyond belief the girl in front of him giving herself a whole encouraging speech before taking off onto the road, uncareful of eventual vehicles steering on it. That triggers his instinct, yelling her name. It unexpectedly but luckily stops her in her tracks, making her turn around with a not so pleased expression.

Jeongguk can’t believe what he’s offering to do while having to be met with that look on her face. Ugh, brat. “What the hell are you doing? C’mon, I’m taking you home.”

The laugh she lets out is so obnoxious and loud that a few people actually turn around startled, and Jeongguk has to literally sprint over to her, holding her wrist to bring her further away from the road and from the club’s entrance, “Shut up, God,” He whisper yells, while she seems to do the exact opposite.

It luckily stops at some point, but as if nothing ever happened she turns too serious too soon, ”You…” Her finger is pointed at Jeongguk’s chest in what seems to be a menacing manner, eyes narrowed and dipping into his, “You own that loud bike. I’m not getting on it. Not getting on it!” She yells that last sentence, making a scene as if she was trying to break free from Jeongguk’s hold, which he immediately drops, while still trying to get her to be quiet.

The genuinely desperate expression on the boy’s face is enough for her next move to be crouching in half, holding her stomach as unexpected laughter holds her body hostage once again, Jeongguk sighing unbelievably and regretting every single thought of his that led him to follow her outside.

”Can you please- be normal,” Jeongguk actually begs, bringing the girl up and noticing real tears around her eyes, smudging her glittery makeup. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, his expression clearly conveying that annoyment.

”You- You’re too funny,” She giggles, recovering from her sudden fit of laughter, which dies down slowly this time with her emitting a long sigh. The drunk girl shakes her head to herself, retrieving her phone once again and opening the Uber app. Jeongguk is having none of it.

”I’m being serious. I’m not letting you get a taxi at this hour. You’re getting on that loud bike, like it or not.” His firm statement is luckily not followed by chuckles, nor by a witty remark, just her snapping her head up with big eyes staring into his unsurely. He feels like having to deal with an eleven year old all over again, only this time his patience is running thin and he doesn’t feel like waiting.

The girl catches up to him, trying her best to keep up with his pace and following him closely to the vehicle that’s going to be her ride home tonight. She shivers, not only because she’s cold but also because she’s rethinking life choices. Eunbi scrambles to find anything to avoid what was bound to happen, her slow mind trying to come up with a quick escape and not even registering Jeongguk putting his jacket around her shoulders and securing the helmet under her chin, while she almost literally just stands there. “I’m sure-” she hiccups, “I’m sure that blonde girl would love to be in my position right now.”

That is not at all how it was supposed to come out nor sound, the confusion evident on the boy’s face being met with horror written in the girl’s expression. She stutters, “I meant, like- you should be taking her home.”

A part of his brain notes the fact that she was also observing him from a distance not too long ago inside the club, but he leaves that thought for his late night thinking. Right now, he chuckles amusedly, sitting on his bike while adjusting his hair, “Hop on. It won’t kill you.”

The possibility of the bike killing her almost does it for her, until she remembers the other option. Having to pay for an Uber at 4 a.m. while too drunk to even formulate a senseful sentence. In front of her instead, a free ride by no one other than the boy she’s been shamelessly avoiding for no reason, too scared to actually confront him. What a great second option.

Still, she balances herself using his shoulders and gets on the bike, not knowing where to put her hands next. That thought seems to be registering at the same time in Jeongguk’s head, who revs the engine, “I suggest you hold onto me.”

Eunbi scoffs, shoving her straightened hair back in a sassy manner, “There’s no way in hell-“ Her remark is abruptly interrupted by a loud squeal, followed by her arms wrapping around his torso in under one millisecond, with Jeongguk suddenly taking off at full speed.

He laughs a genuine one, and that gets the scared girl pissed beyond hell, yelling in his ear about how she hates his guts with her hands almost close to groping his pecs. Can you blame her? They’re the closest thing she can hold on to right now to survive.

He does slow down, as does his laughter and her screaming, but then as he rounds the club he spots the men who had been bothering Eunbi at the beginning of the night intent on crossing the street. He figures he can play a bit more before actually stopping sabotaging the girl in the back’s health. Just a little something to get back at them for their comments. So, he zooms right past them, cutting their way suddenly and almost probably going over one of their toes, their incredulous yelling and remarks being music for his ears, joined by the girl he’s taking home as she screams more insults at him, looking back at the angered men getting further as Jeongguk drives away.

”Are you trying to take my life?” She’s almost voiceless as she tries to make herself heard over the engine, squeezing Jeongguk’s waist in genuine fear. All she gets back from the biker is a giggle, and a tap on her knee, “Sorry. They deserved it. You can relax now.”

As suspicious as she may have been initially, he didn’t lie. The rest of the ride is pleasant, slow driving while a sweet summer breeze brushes her face and makes her hair flow with the wind. No one dares break the moment, not even at red lights when the only sound that can be heard over the silence is the growling motor. Eunbi is glad Jeongguk knows the way to her flat, having already been there with the others for a few house parties she and Dahye hosted. That means she can just zone out in the back, her head resting on Jeongguk’s shoulders, and right in this moment she doesn’t regret almost risking her life, the sight of the city flashing past her making her forget all about it.

When Jeongguk can feel the grip around his torso getting loose, he taps her knee twice, afraid she might be falling asleep. He’s proved right when that gesture gets her to suddenly shake her head, muttering some noises and tightening her hold around him again. He smiles, ”We’re almost home, don’t fall asleep on me.”

Indeed, the sight of her building comes to view shortly after, Jeongguk stopping in front of it and waiting for his backpack to get off the bike. When she does, she stumbles slightly, seemingly gaining consciousness of her surroundings again. Jeongguk notices she completely wrapped herself in his leather jacket, figures she was probably freezing to death in that short dress of hers. Thinks it’s a cute sight. Regrets having a brain right after.

Said cute sight struggles to take off the helmet, Jeongguk itching to help her, but she succeeds unexpectedly without any help. Still no word being uttered by any of the two, with her hair a tangled mess, she gets close to him and repeats the same actions Jeongguk did to her earlier, handing his jacket back and putting the helmet around his head. When she’s done she pats it, then takes a step back.

A simple ride home on Jeongguk’s bike seems to have opened a black hole of unsaid truths, being communicated by their eyes just staring at each other. None of them is ready to voice them out, though. Eunbi clears her throat, pulling the hem of her dress down as a habit, clearly out of embarrassment. Then, she fixes her locks, “That’s very dangerous, you know?”

Jeongguk hums questionly, moving some of his bangs out of his vision and clearly seeing goosebumps rising on the girl’s skin, unsure of why she prefers trying to converse after minutes of silence over warming up in her flat.

“You giving me your helmet and your jacket. What if you hurt yourself?” She keeps muttering some more remarks under her breath, probably slander reserved just for him this time. He can make out a dumbass. What a nerve.

She may be right, though. Without his jacket on, he was only covered by a tight black shirt, nothing on his head to save him from any eventuality he doesn’t want to consider. Still, he clearly doesn’t see why he wouldn’t have preferred to protect her instead of himself, but he doesn’t exactly say that, “If I didn’t do that, you would have been a popsicle by now.”

The girl giggles, proving him right when she wraps her arms around her figure, “So, you do this for every girl? What if one of them gets you killed?”

Jeongguk scoffs amusedly, shaking his head at her implication, but deciding to ignore it, “The only one who got me close to that was you.” He only says that to gain one of her too over the top reactions, and he’s glad when she furrows her brows, hanging her mouth and bringing a hand to her chest. He chuckles, “If anything you should be thanking me.”

The usually over dramatic girl now just nods, taking in the smile on his face and grasping the fact that it hasn’t been directed at her in a long time before this moment. She smiles too, “Yeah, huh… Thanks. For the ride. ‘T was nice.”

Jeongguk figures the wind must have dried up almost all the alcohol from Eunbi’s body, because she seems to be realising, just as he is, how close they have gotten to one another while ignoring the huge elephant in the room, her attitude being way less sassy and picky with this knowledge. Fazed by this sudden but obvious realisation, he only nods.

The girl quickly notices the change in his demeanour and she nervously bites her lower lip, aware their dynamic is going to return to cold stares and unacknowledgement, but still wanting to hold onto this moment even for one more second. “Oh,” her chest jumps in some sort of gasp, realising she still has something else to thank him for, “Thanks for earlier. You know, with those guys. I appreciated it.”

Differently from Eunbi, Jeongguk wants to be done with this pretence already. As soon as he found himself getting too lost in the fantasy of them still being friends, he quickly recovered and put the wall up high again, making the distance between them even farther than it was before. He doesn’t miss the sadness in her eyes when that shift happens, but he also doesn’t want to dwell too much on it, his tone unbothered all of the sudden while his eyes convey a different story, “No problem. Get inside.”

She nods, giving him a tight lipped smile, turning around slowly and making her way to the front door of the building. She expects to hear the roaring of the bike’s engine, but the only sound that can be heard is that of the birds waking up and singing their morning songs.

Jeongguk stays in his spot on the bike until he sees the girl enter the block, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding and then securing the helmet under his chin. Pats it, then immediately retreats his hand. “Dumbass,” That’s his signal he needs to get home as soon as possible and get some sleep, already imagining how difficult such a simple task will be with his mind running a hundred miles per hour. Fucking Bee.

[zutarasbuff]

Found this somewhere on Tumblr, it infuriated me to a great extent and forced me to crush the “coloniser-colonial romance” accusation against the Zutara nation. For this, you need to read everything quite carefully that will be presented to you.

So people who accuse Zutara use this narrative that Zuko had a princely life as a colonizer, unlike Katara. Now look at the ground reality:

Katara’s mother Kya lied to Yon Rha that she was the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe to save her daughter. A similar act was done by Ursa (Zuko’s mother) who killed Firelord Azulon with her potion as part of her deal with Ozai to save the life of her son Zuko and got banished eventually. That makes us come to one certain conclusion:

Both Zuko and Katara spent greater part of their life without their mothers and this impacted their childhood badly as we find them dealing with the trauma of loss even after they hit puberty.

As if the absence of a mother was not enough, when Hakoda (Katara’s father) leaves with the fleet for the war, it’s almost the same time when we find Ozai getting immersed in attacking other nations, so much so that he’s never there for both of his children. Technically speaking, even if Ozai was there physically, he was never emotionally available for his children being a narcissistic father.

I would say that Zuko had the worst childhood experience as compared to Katara because Katara had a brother who always supported his sister in dealing with the trauma, but we don’t see that in the case of Zuko whose own sister used to bully him right from the childhood for being too weak and the mom’s pet.

Now let’s analyze the colonizer part. Unfortunately, Zuko was born to a father who was not just the worst ruler but an equally worse son, brother, husband, and father. One can say that Zuko’s only fault was to hail from a wrong family but other than that, he was never a colonizer. You may ask why. I will give you a reason.

It’s not just Katara who has to bear the ill effects of the war that was imposed on her, but in many ways Zuko was a direct victim of what we call “Emotional Imperialism”. In psychology, it’s a condition where the colonizers not just physically take control of their colonies, but they start infusing their ideals deep into the mentality of their subjects as well.

Coming back to the case of Zuko, we find that he never gets to formulate the normal father-son relationship with Ozai, rather Ozai treats both his children as his humble subjects who need to obey him unquestionably and need to be perfect as his subjects. He’s in every sense not just a narcissistic parent but a controlling one as well who emotionally traps both his children and wants to rule over them at every cost. The apparent manifestation of this emotional imperialism is evident through:

Zuko’s quest to be the best firebender

When the colonizers start ruling over a certain colony, it’s the colonials who feel the need to be validated by their masters. It’s their first survival strategy that they embrace the change as they know resistance is going to be of no use. They simply adapt themselves to the new ideals that are set forth by their ruling masters. Similarly, Ozai always wanted his children to be the absolute embodiment of Azulon’s great bloodline and both his children obliged to his desires because they feared the firelord. Therefore, his stiff standards force both his children to compete against each other from a very young age. This is the worst form of emotional imperialism where the subjects simply want some validation in return and therefore they are ready to even forget their kinship. That’s what we find as Zuko repeatedly wants to “get his honor back and win the trust of his father”. What do you think this honor is? It’s not the quest for being the next heir to the throne, rather it’s being the absolute best in the eyes of the master who controls both the siblings. We know Ozai has a manipulative nature and this relates exactly to the manipulative attitude of a colonizer who puts the colonials against each other.

Zuko’s almost absent friend circle

Have you ever seen the modus operandi of the colonizers? They alienate their subjects so that the subjects find no way of self-expression and eventually give up to the demands of their masters. That’s exactly the scenario that propagates in Zuko’s life. Other than Mai and Ty Lee we don’t even find his friends throughout the series. Isn’t it a bit strange that despite being a prince, he has no guy friend of his age? He has no friends at all. It’s because the master (Ozai) wanted so. The siblings never get much exposure to the outside world. When we draw a comparison of Zuko’s situation, then Katara seems to be at an advantage in that she found a peer group that allowed her to grow further and overcome her insecurities. Zuko, however never got a chance to blend into an actual peer group and that kept him secluded throughout and gave him his introverted persona. Don’t you find it strange that as a friend Zuko got no one but his uncle who had a lot of age differences and the opinions differed too? This created a rift further maybe because Zuko felt that somehow his feelings were not interpreted well by Uncle Iroh. Compared to his “angry guy” persona, he grows a lot more friendly when he finds the gang or should we say people of his age. This allows him to understand his persona in a constructive way and he strives to alter the course of his life afterwards.

Identity crisis

Out of all the characters on ATLA, people often say that Zuko is the one with the most complex attributes because he is not even sure of his “destiny”. Sounds familiar? Eh? Well, this is the typical case of an identity crisis existing in the subjects of a colony. Zuko goes through this phase where he is always striving hard to explore his identity, and his destiny thus fueling his internal rage as well. A kaleidoscopic journey is what he follows. Sometimes it’s rage, sometimes regret and sometimes he even questions the actions of his father. By the end, his driving force to change his alliances is nothing but this very identity crisis. This makes me remember a very interesting observation that whenever he’s near the gang, he’s a bit cranky and at the same time uneasy because he looks at the gang as the polar opposite of himself. To a caged bird who has accepted his fate, even the slightest call of resistance feels like Hades’ call and that’s why he repeatedly aims to avoid Aang’s calls for forming a friendship because he is afraid of peeking into his resisting side. That’s the typical thing you find in Haru who despite being a fine earthbender resists waging a war against the firebenders who roam freely in his village at first. So would you blame Zuko for never resisting the colonization when as a subject it was inherent to his mentality for a long time?

A harsh realisation

People who degrade Zutara with this stupid claim that Katara was the only one who “lost everything” need to get their brains checked thoroughly because when we compare her loss to the magnitude of the loss faced by Zuko at the end of the war, the comparing scale diverts wildly in Zuko’s favor. Though many of you know this; I will recall it for you again. Katara lost her mother to the war but in the end, she got lifelong friends to cherish with her brother as well father. On the contrary, even during the war, we find that Zuko loses not only his mother, his father, and his sister in the worst possible way. It means all his family members are lost to him in every sense when the war ends. Now some of you will come to me with the argument that the gang eventually finds Ursa back but how? With her memories all erased. It means that the war has not just left him with permanent emotional wounds but it has further taken the very idea of a family from his life.

We zutarians never ship Zutara together because we “just find them good together” but it’s deeper than that. It’s because Zuko was the one who understood Katara’s quest for Yon Rha in order to find answers behind her mother’s death in addition to revenge. This is because deep down he was always looking for the answers of his mother’s (who was the only real person known to him) banishment. That’s exactly what we find after Zuko becomes the firelord. The first thing he does is asking Ozai questions and being certain that he’s finally gonna tell everything. We ship them together because Katara was the only person who understood the value of Zuko jumping in front of Azula’s lightning to save her. We ship them together because we believe if it had become a potential canon, maybe both of them could have helped each other in healing with their individual traumas and creating a real family together.

[joeloverture]

i was planning on doing this anyway, but here’s the deal: im leaving tumblr

guys, i have chronic pain. severe, debilitating chronic pain. and the severity of that isn’t exactly the kind that i can just bare my heart to describe. you don’t know how bad it is until you’re on the receiving end of it, and i hope you never are. but im unlucky, and i wake up in persisting pain every day of my life. i won’t talk extensively about my chronic pain in this departure but just know that writing, especially for fandom, is just unrealistic for me right now

writing, especially for THIS fandom, is just out of the fucking question right now.

sorry, but im not giving jerk off material to a bunch of sex starved basement dwellers with cunts that look like rotted raisins. thats just not why i joined this fandom. i joined to celebrate the dramatic rise to fame of someone whose story & identity i found relatable and encouraging. now, people are making baseless assumptions & accusations, as well as actively hurting and spreading false information about kindhearted and talented people.

maybe ill have a future with this fandom in it, as well as creating lighthearted fics, but now? no. its not fun! especially with my health

so where does this leave my fics? unfinished, im afraid. and honestly, maybe even taken down. im tempted to deactivate here, but i dont want to leave people without works that they may go back to. i might orphan them on ao3 — just send me an ask with a fic of mine you favor if it isn’t already posted there, and ill try to get it up.

that said, ive been planning on leaving for a while. that fuck ass account is not the sole reason, but i also don’t want to be part of a circle jerk where everyone gets off on others’ collective misery. which is what this environment feels like rn

thank you to every wonderful soul who’s supported me during my brief stint here 🤎 your comments, reblogs, and asks were all treasured

💌 - vetty

[ozzgin]

Greetings! How you doing today/tonight?

This is not a request or anything

Hopefully you're doing fine, cuz I'm not, I have a shitty cold rn and I just finished 5 tissue roll papers in just a few hours

Anyway this ain't about me, just wanted to see how you were doing since I've been a bit inactive with tumblr with the past few days

Have a great day/night :3

-🎧anon

Aww, sorry to hear that. We’re definitely entering cold/flu season. Mid-October I’ve gotten ill with some virus, no idea what it was, but I had no other symptoms other than terribly swollen sinuses. Which, in turn, pressed on my tooth nerves, so I had massive tooth pain for days. Never dealt with anything like that before and it sounds downright ridiculous, turns out it’s an actual thing. Start taking immunity supplements and avoid visibly sick people!

I know you said it’s not a request, but I couldn’t help the thought of “How would the Baki characters take care of you?” So I did write some short headcanons after all. For you and anyone else currently bedridden. :)

Baki Characters x Sick! Reader

Featuring Baki and Jack Hanma, Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi and Pickle. And a reader that’s battling a cold!

Baki Hanma

There are two stages of Baki’s involvement. Once you’re not answering his calls he will be at your front door, worried and considering ways to break in. That’s when he hears the muffled coughing and sneezing through the walls and figures it out: You’re sick. He’ll return with a bag of supplies and offer to stay at your place until you feel better. His help consists of quick Google searches, because he’s never had anyone doting on him and consequently has no idea how to care for someone in such situations.

Second and final stage is him getting sick from you. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night to see him trying to hold back his cough, at first denying his poor health until you touch his forehead and it’s burning. The bad news is that you’re both bedridden. Baki is beyond embarrassed, attempting to justify himself and explaining it has never happened before. Eventually one of his or your friends will show up and pay the occasional visit to play nurse. At least you’re not suffering alone. You’re not sure if it’s an actual saying, but you’re tempted to believe colds go away faster in good company.

Jack Hanma

You don’t want to interfere with Jack’s routine, so once you wake up with the familiar sore muscles, you decide to quietly recover from home. Jack notices your absence and while he does not want to be nonchalant and potentially impose on your personal troubles, he can’t help the curiosity. In fact, he spends the whole training time wondering why you’ve skipped your usual visits. So when you hear a knock on the door you don’t think twice about opening it. Probably your food delivery. Only when you notice Jack’s massive frame blocking any outside view, you gasp in surprise.

“Oh. You seem to be ill.” Is all he states before turning on his heels and leaving. You stand there baffled and eventually return to your warm bed. Just as you cozy up, there’s another knock and you groan, throwing the blankets off of you. This better be the hot soup you ordered. Except it’s Jack again, holding not only your delivery, but also multiple other bags with groceries peeking out. “Y-you’re back?” You mumble. “Well, can’t do much empty handed. Here’s your order, but I got some extra things to help with your cold”, he states as he invites himself in.

Kaiou Retsu

You know Retsu will be worried about you, so you try your best to mask the symptoms over the phone. “That’s a stuffed nose. Are you sick?” He immediately points out. Uh oh. You fumble with some excuses and he promptly hangs up. Have you upset him? You’re starting to feel bad. He’s never dropped out of a conversation like this before. You try to call back several times until you’re distracted by the sound of your doorbell. You’re not in the mood for visitors. You continue your attempts to reach Retsu as you approach the door and open it. “I suspected as much.” Your head snaps up hearing the familiar voice.

Before you can say anything, you’re casually lifted up and brought to your bed. As if he’s been doing it his entire life, the Kenpo master tucks you in and pulls out an apron from his bag. “I’ll check what ingredients you already have in your pantry and go buy the rest. Before that, I’ll make you a tea. Any preferences?” You open your mouth to speak, but he’s already walking away, describing the best choice of drink for the common cold. Really, the best thing you can do right now is to rest and leave everything else to him.

Katsumi Orochi

Usually, Katsumi will avoid using the spare key you’ve given him. On the other hand, he was supposed to pick you up for your regular date night and you haven’t answered his persistent knocking, so you leave him little choice. He quietly apologizes for the intrusion as he unlocks the door and tiptoes his way in. The lights are off and he’s becoming increasingly anxious, almost sprinting to your bedroom. He stops in his tracks once he sees you buried under the blankets, passed out and sweaty from an obvious cold.

Ah. Well, that makes sense. He smiles to himself and gently pats your forehead to make sure it’s nothing serious, then sneaks out of the room. You wake up hours later, groggy and sore. It suddenly occurs to you that you’ve slept through your date and jolt up, nearly collapsing in the process. You erratically search for your phone and call Katsumi to apologize. Simultaneously you hear his ringtone nearby, so you limp outside, confused. As you reach the kitchen, a pleasant smell invades your nostrils. Katsumi turns to look at you. “You’re awake! I made something to help with your cold. I’ll bring it to your bed, so you can go back and rest. We can’t skip our romantic dinner.” He chuckles after the last statement.

Pickle

Pickle has been ill at least once in his life, so he can quickly guess that your coughing and runny nose is not something that’s supposed to happen on the regular. Although, if he’s honest, he has no idea what he should do. He’d deal with his sickness by just sleeping it out, or downright ignoring it. Seeing you like this, however, fills him with an overwhelming desire to help you. He does love you, after all. Witnessing your suffering isn’t something he does with ease.

He manages to gesture the situation to Baki, who follows him back to your place and proceeds to do the first aid he’d sporadically learned over the years. A rather clumsy attempt, but it’s better than nothing. Once Pickle has observed the steps, he swiftly shoos the young boy away. All he needed was a little bit of demonstration, some brief instruction on the modern ways. Everything else will be done by him. It’s only proper that the actual care is performed by your partner. You’re a little afraid of the potential outcome to this experiment. Especially once you hear the loud rattles coming from the kitchen. Don’t worry, it’s all made with love.

*My partner has insisted that I include Yuujirou Hanma just to say that he’d tenderly piss on you. I compromised on a footnote.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

The Rationality of Emotion 02

Al-Haitham / Reader

Chapters: Chp 1 | Chp 2

Read the Full Story on Ao3 | Tumblr MasterList Here (Maybe even leave me a comment please? :3< )

Summary: Kaveh simply couldn't believe that Al-Haitham was going to marry before him! Not that ill-tempered, bullheaded, brutish excuse for a man! Not just that! The rational brute was marrying the Emotional Scholar, of all people! Rationality and Emotion? Marrying? How could this be possible?! --o-- A story in which: you just wanted help reading some runes, your parents wanted to you to marry, Al-Haitham wanted a cover story for when he went out into the desert, and Kaveh is...well...he's...he's there for you. Needless to say you're now all one big happy (?) family!

Chapter 2: Unbelievable!

He’d expected a tasteless, emotionally-illiterate, pitifully lonely girl to consent to marrying Al-Haitham! Not you of all people. No, he expected more from you.

You two seemed like the least compatible duo.

Al-Haitham might pretend that he operates based off of pure rationality, but he knew better than that. Regardless: he was obsessed with his skewed opinion of rationality and liked to believe he was right. You on the other hand were not only able to admit to potentially being wrong, you were notorious for your rumored theory on emotions, and how you stressed their importance. In fact that reputation preceded you! He’d been shocked when he’d found out you were the scholar of that rumor. 

Thinking on it, he’d never managed to ask you: what was your theory regarding emotions? Was it even a published theory? Or just a vocal opinion?

Nevermind that!

Those who prioritized rationality seldom agreed with those who prioritized emotion, and the same could be said for the reverse. You two lied on two opposite ends of the spectrum no matter how he looked at it…

This…

This…couldn’t be a case of opposites attracting, could it? 

He refused to believe that. There must be some circumstances he wasn’t privy to. Some hidden reasoning that led Al-Haitham, reclusive as he was, to make a move on another human being. 

Ugh. He didn’t know what he’d expected, really. With regards to Al-Haitham’s choice of spouse, he meant. 

Well, the architect certainly hadn’t expected any of the ladies he was acquainted with to be potential candidates. That said, even if he had, he’d still have ruled you out.

After all pairing the two of you was like training with a Pyro vision out in the Avidya Forest! Highly volatile, and guaranteed to end in disaster. Where Al-Haitham was the Pyro vision and you were the innocent forest.

He’d devour you with that temperament. 

Ugh…now that he thought about it, how did the two of you even meet? 

Really.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, it was just as Tighnari had said: he had been asking the wrong questions.

What possessed you to consent to marrying Al-Haitham?

No. That wasn’t the real question. 

No, no…

There was something off . That roommate of his wasn’t fond of company, so why was he establishing a permanent relationship? It wasn’t adding up.

Al-Haitham who gloated about his lack of problems due to his deliberately miniscule social circle, willingly adding someone to it? Someone who he would be spending an exorbitant amount of time with? That bullheaded man wasn’t stupid, annoying as it was, so he had to be aware that a spouse had the potential to single-handedly generate more problems than half a decent sized social circle combined, it was a consequence of the intimate nature of the relationship! Then again, from what he’d seen of you, it looked like Al-Haitham would be the one making problems for you.

Urgh. The renowned architect pinched the bridge of his nose. 

What were the conditions underlying the alleged agreement? What could have possibly motivated Al-Haitham to get married? Not to say anything against you! It’s just Al-Haitham always chose solitude, so why was he suddenly choosing companionship?

He wasn’t going to die soon was he? He sure hoped not.

No matter how exasperating that scribe was, he still didn't want him to die. If he were to be completely honest, the mere thought of losing his prickly, quite frankly-insensitive, housemate put him in mourning. 

Then again he seemed healthy as a horse lately. His mood had seemed more pleasant as well. That is to say: he hasn’t seen the ill-tempered scribe in a bad mood lately. Make no mistake, he was still as disagreeable as ever, however slightly less irritable. Was he- no that couldn't be possible… Al-Haitham looking forward to getting married?

Hah!

What a ridiculous and impossible notion. 

If that impossible housemate of his really had been looking forward to this marriage of his, he'd have personally invited him!

Speaking of!

That indolent, pathetic excuse for a man! Had he no sense of chivalry?! That you’d had to go out of your way to visit his atelier for the sole purpose of delivering the invitation to him, when Al-Haitham could have just handed it to him at home!

Oh… he would absolutely lecture him about efficiency and “rational” behavior the moment he saw him!

And he did.

Kaveh had just put the smallest kettle he owned on the stove when the aforementioned unchivalrous husband-to-be walked in.

The “Master of the House” (he still couldn’t believe him, the sheer audacity) had barely a foot past the door when the “Tenant of the House” greeted him with: “already bossing your wife around and you aren’t even married yet?!” 

A glare was thrown his way, and before the scribe could voice his confusion the blonde gestured to where he’d temporarily placed the accursed invitation to your damnation, “your fiancée went out of her way to deliver a wedding invitation to your wedding to me.”

“Oh,” the scribe thought little of it as he strode to his room, “you ought to be happy.”

He what?!

The blonde followed his indifferent target to the doorway of his room.

“We live in the same house! It would have been easier for you to deliver it!” The nerve of this-

“Are you complaining because you wanted to receive an invitation from me?” The infuriating scribe threw him a glance over his shoulder. “How surprising.”

“No!” Urrrgh! This impossible man and his outlandish conjectures! “Why make her go through all the trouble of walking all the way to my atelier just to deliver an invitation when it would be more efficient and rational for you to give it to me.”

The insufferable brute let out a hum-a frustrating hum-what was there to muse about in this situation? 

“How rare.”

What? What was he going on about?

“What is?”

“I agree with you,” that really was a rare occurrence. 

Was there an eclipse happening today? Maybe there was some once in a millennium celestial event today. He ought to check with a Rtahwatist scholar.

“It was unnecessary for her to exert herself for your sake.”

How was it that every word out of this man’s mouth aggravated him so?

“For my sake?” The artist scoffed. “Hmph! Then why didn’t you advise against it?”

“I did,” the scribe didn’t bother glancing his way, “she insisted.”

What?

“Why?”

“You’ll have to ask her for that answer,” yet another unhelpful reply from this impossible fellow.

“Well she’s not here for me to ask her, now is she?” The blonde snapped back.

“Actually, she’s waiting for me just outside the door,” came the muffled reply as Al-Haitham continued with whatever it was he was doing from his room, “if you’d like to ask her.”

“You didn’t think to invite her inside?!” Kaveh swore, this man, for all his rationality, lacked in common sense when it came to basic decency.

“The thought might have crossed my mind,” oh he could put that snark away, “how about you go and invite her inside?”

Urgh. 

So much for a relaxing cup of tea.  

The more hospitable of the two men returned to the kitchen to turn off the stove before hurrying to the door. Sure enough you sat on the ledge across from the house. He noticed your initial excitement diffuse slightly upon realizing it was him. Had you been hoping for Al-Haitham instead?

If he were to be candid: that reaction stung a little. 

Shaking it off, the blonde wasted little time in marching towards you, “I can’t believe he wouldn’t invite you, his fiancée, into his own house,” he sighed, “and you’re going to be living here soon no less!”

“Oh he did,” you smiled, “but we aren’t married yet, so I didn’t want to go in without a chaperone.”

A chaperone? Oh! 

You were traditional. 

He wouldn’t deny he was mildly surprised, but he respected that. Your boundaries were remaining firm despite your engagement.

“Well that’s one thing he did right, I suppose,” Kaveh relented before his prior exasperation returned, “I still don’t understand why he made you go out of your way to deliver the invitation to me when he could have handed it to me at home though.”

Awkwardness wobbled your little smile and you began to fidget with your fingers, “that’s because I wanted to be the one to give it to you.”

Your expression was sheepish as you continued, still fiddling away with your fingers, “I thought it would upset you if I didn’t say anything-or didn’t do anything to tell you I’m getting married.”

Oh. 

If he considered it, it was rather touching that you valued your friendship with him enough to do that. Was that why you were awkward? Because he'd completely missed your intentions? You couldn't possibly be thinking that he didn't care for your pleasant friendship now?! How careless of him! He'd have to rectify this at once!

Unfortunately no sooner had he opened his mouth than an unwelcome third party joined the conversation.

“And I told you not to worry,” Al-Haitham arrived to vaporize the amicable air surrounding you two, “as you can see, he was going to get upset either way.”

“Well my delivery could have gone better,” you admitted, endearingly bashful, “my apologies Kaveh.”

“Not at all!” The man in question rushed ignoring the rude wedge in your conversation. “If anything, let me apologize to you for not appreciating your efforts! I am deeply touched that you value our friendship so much! I do too!"

“No no no, there’s no need for you to apologize,” you were quick to respond waving your hands frantically in front of you, “I didn’t take it that way at all!”

Something seemed to glimmer as you waved your hands to and fro, however he didn’t have time to focus on it as you continued to speak.

“It’s my fault you misunderstood!” He wished you wouldn’t blame yourself! “If I’d been better about inviting you, you never would have had the wrong idea,” your embarrassment was truly sweet, “sorry about that.”

“There’s no need for you to apologize to him,” whereas the audacity of this unmannered junior of his was truly bitter, “I’m sure whatever manner you delivered the invitation in was cordial enough.”

Of course Al-Haitham couldn’t just stop there. No, not this impossible man. 

Kaveh found himself on the receiving end of the scribe’s hawk-like stare as he swiftly began voicing his displeasure, “yet rather than being thankful for the excessive effort you exerted to personally deliver the invitation to him,” the insufferable ox for a man folded his arms across his chest, the bag he was holding swinging at the movement, “he’s here using it as an excuse to accuse me of laziness.”

“It wouldn’t be out of character for you,” the berated architect shot back.

What did he have in that bag? Is that what he’d been searching for?

You hopped to your feet, gaining your valued friend's attention, and posing an inquiry in the most pleasant of tones: “did you get your clothes then, Al-Haitham?”

“Yes,” he turned to you, “thank you for waiting, let’s get going.”

“Clothes?” What in the world? “Where are you going?”

“Fabric shopping,” you turned to face him, your hands neatly folded in front of you.

Of course as you did so something glinted in the late afternoon sun, capturing his attention. Which is how he found himself looking at a neatly cut pale-green gem placed into a simple, but elegant frame. 

Hmph. 

He couldn’t help but find the color rather reminiscent of the spectrum of teals and greens that often accented his horrid housemate’s choice of attire…

“Fabric shopping?” The distracted aesthete parroted, his eyes still studying the rather impressive stone on your finger.

Wait…

Impressive stone…

…On your finger?!

Was that?!

It was new! That’s for sure. 

One, two, three…four, yes four. Counting from your thumb, the ring sat on your right ring finger. Clearly, that was your engagement ring. 

He didn’t remember seeing it before! You were with him not long ago when you handed him his invitation. He was certain he’d have noticed it if you’d been wearing it at the time! Was-was that what you’d been fiddling with earlier?!

“Yes,” you confirmed, momentarily drawing him out from the well of his thoughts. 

The blonde found himself sneering at your soon-to-be warden, studying him from the aqua of his accented hair to the pale-green of his eyes to the teal of his sash and belt. Somehow despite the tasteful ring, and how it betrayed its no-doubt sizeable price, Kaveh's agitation did not subside.

“Take care Kaveh!” Your voice once again, pulled his attention back to you and he found himself once again searching for the pale-green gem as you gently waved at him. “See you soon!”

“Ah, yes,” he shook himself out of his thoughts in time to smile at you.

Then he frowned, “no wait!”

“Yes?” Confusion riddled your.

“A quick question for you,” his hand reached for your own, he had to make sure: “do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

His eyes widened just as yours did as you all but recoiled from him. You snatched your hand right out of his grip, your smile leaving with it as your gaze flickered to the side and back to him. 

Your groom-to-be swiftly moved himself to stand to your side, perpendicularly in the space between you and the architect, shooting him a glare all the while. However the blonde paid him no mind for a change, as he was much too focused on you.

What a peculiar reaction. 

“What do you mean?” And an even more peculiar response!

As he’d thought! There was something off about the whole thing!

“Darling you have to reconsider this marriage of yours,” the words spilled out from his mouth, he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity, “I don’t know what your circumstances are, or what he said to get you to agree, but-”

“As I’ve told you before,” Al-Haitham wasted no time cutting him off, “we came to the conclusion to marry after discussing the matter rationally.”

“And like I said before: you’re the only one insufferable enough to do that!” The concerned man rebutted without batting an eye. “How am I to know you didn’t come to that conclusion on your own, after misunderstanding or misinterpreting her responses!”

“Had I misunderstood ,” his housemate bit back, “then she wouldn’t have accepted my proposal, now would she?”

“This is true,” Your advocate’s, self-proclaimed-advocate’s, neck snapped towards your smaller form as you rejoined the conversation. 

Why were you backing this impossible man?! You were only making things more difficult for him to advocate for you! And he was trying to help you!

“There you have it,” the scribe shrugged, “bye.”

With that the difficult linguist made to walk away with you. The sight of you ambling away, ensnared by Al-Haitham's side, simply fueled your friend’s urgency.

“No you don’t,” your advocate insisted, “I want her to corroborate your claim.”

"Oh really?"

"Absolutely!"

“Kaveh,” you intervened before they could get any more heated, “I get the feeling you don’t really want me to corroborate Al-Haitham’s claim.”

“Of course I do!” He challenged. “Given that you can, and that this guy,” he jabbed a warning finger in the scribe’s direction, “isn’t reframing it all to suit his purposes.”

Your lips thinned as you looked off to the side, your brows furrowing and pushing your eyes into a squint of sorts, however you did not immediately begin to speak. You must be hesitant to speak for some reason. 

Hah! 

He knew it! Everything was off! 

From the moment he’d asked if you knew what you were getting yourself into until now! All of it! The unromantic, emotionally-illiterate brute really was as full of air as an inflated anemo slime!

Still…

Al-Haitham’s arrogance stemmed from his excessive pride…it didn’t make sense for him to employ unsavory means to acquire a wife. Were you really the dishonest one? Unless this marriage arrangement was just a paper contract? What…

The man’s pretty features pinched as he looked at you in concern. Were you signing yourself away then? For what?

He shot a glance at his solitary housemate. How did he benefit from this kind of arrangement?

“We talked…" hmm? "We talked about a number of topics related to our lives, values, and marriage at length,” Oh you were-

You were corroborating Al-Haitham’s story?!

You were fiddling with that ring again, “and in depth, great depth,” you weren’t looking at Kaveh, your whole demeanor shrinking into something bashful as you added a hushed and hurried: "in a much greater depth than anyone else I've talked to," as an afterthought. 

Your wobbly little smile would have been adorable had the implications of your behavior not been so horrifying. It really was as he had feared! You wore the rose tinted lenses of a maiden in love! It was the only plausible explanation for how someone like you could agree to marry someone like Al-Haitham!

Yet…as the architect studied your expression more, you seemed…wistful?

Would someone blinded by love be wistful? Could someone blinded by love be wistful?

It didn’t add up.

After all you wouldn’t be wistful if your love was blind, but you wouldn’t be bashful if you didn’t have some kind of… inclination towards the scribe. He could make a case for you being blinded by love and being in a rational state all at once. It was maddening!

However that didn’t seem to be the end of your speech, “after talking through and working out any preliminary issues,” you scratched at the back of your head, “I, uh, we realized we might be compatible and decided to marry.”

You what now?

“See,” no he did not see, “just as I said: we came to the decision to wed rationally.”

“No no no!” He wagged a trained finger. “She said you might be compatible, not you are compatible!”

“I try to avoid speaking in absolutes,” you were quick to explain. 

“A natural consequence of being a humble scholar,” oh he could buzz off, “you could stand to learn that from her.”

“So could you,” he was getting nowhere with this bullheaded man here.

He'd been gearing up to voice his suspicions when your voice interrupted him this time.

“Do we have to have this discussion out here in the street?” Your eyes were flitting about. “Does it have to happen right here and now?”

“No.”

“Absolutely!” This friend of yours was dead set on saving you this grief.

“Could we not postpone this discussion for another time?” The blonde refocused his attention to you yet again, “please?”

Your eyes continued flickering all around you, your lips thinning into a tight line, as you gave him a pleading look. Much like yours had, the architect’s gaze flickered about as he actually took in the setting he was trying to talk to you in. At which point he inhaled deeply. 

He’d really needed that. 

It was embarrassing how he lost sight of his surroundings. Call it an excuse, but, he swore this scribe really brought out the worst in him sometimes! Ugh. No, it’s not Al-Haitham’s fault. It was his and his alone for allowing himself to get so worked up. You made a fair point, this kind of discussion ought to be carried out in private.

“Yes,” he shook his head as if that would clear the fog within it, “yes, of course. My apologies.”

Your smile was gentle as you heaved a sigh of relief, “thank you.”

As you turned to look at your betrothed, so did he, only to be met with a most displeased stare. On reflex the master builder’s own features shifted into a scowl of sorts, only dropping when he heard your voice call to him yet again.

“Take care Kaveh,” you waved at him, “see you soon.”

His housemate only dropped his disapproving stare as he turned to walk away with you.

He wished he could say you two painted a pleasant picture. Yet all he felt was dread.

//—-------

The dread was well placed, unfortunately. 

Kaveh hadn’t managed to get a word in. That conversation he’d wanted to have with you…never happened.

He’d had a horrible feeling this would be the case!

It wasn’t for a lack of effort on his part. Despite being assigned to a project outside Sumeru City, he’d hunted high and low for you prior to his departure. Your schedules simply hadn’t aligned. 

The one time they had he’d been dealing with a crisis and you’d ended up helping him. 

Ugh…

This is why he insisted that the Akademiya add a course or a mandatory seminar dedicated to how to correctly complete administrative work! The new graduate working under him had bungled a very important order for the project and he had to clean the mess up at the last minute. The stress was enough to make him sick.

Though…the poor boy had a conscience at least. He felt awful and apologized profusely. Oh and he took very good notes to make sure he never repeated the mistake again. At least he’d been raised right. The master architect couldn’t be angry at him after that.

He still had to clean up his mess though. 

Ah yes…uh…no, never mind the kid. You’d found him right as he was certain he was at the end of his rope. You’d spent the rest of your day aiding him, and night had fallen by the time you were done running around trying to help him get everything in order. Your connections, whatever they were, had truly saved him, and the project would be able to proceed on schedule with little extra cost. He was truly so grateful. He did his best to express that with what little time he was afforded to do so.

He’d been so swamped he’d barely registered you leaving, and you’d even said a proper goodbye after making sure he no longer needed your assistance! He’d been about to chase after you, however his teammates had popped in one after another with critical matters, and you’d also had other commitments (he sure hoped they weren’t related to Al-Haitham) so he’d decided to save it for a better time.

How foolish of him really.

Absolutely imbecilic.

That “better time” never arrived. In what little time he had left before leaving the city he’d located your office and visited it, located the lecture hall you usually used and visited it, heck! He’d even gone so far as to ask your own students (there was a surprising number of Kshahrewar students among them) where he could find you and checked all the different locations: you were nowhere to be found. He had been trying to get a hold of your address to visit you in your home, however, well…as anyone might imagine…he didn’t manage to get it.

He’d left for his project unable to see you again.

He tried to write you a letter, he really did, with what little time and energy he had. He couldn’t send anything he wrote to you though: all his letters read like slander, or they weren’t convincing enough. No matter how many flaws that scribe had, he wasn’t a bad person. He was just impossibly difficult.

Most of the time.

…

Almost all the time.

Regardless, that didn’t make him a bad person, and Kaveh wasn’t one to destroy another’s character. As the architect struggled to word his warning letter, time continued to flow and before he knew it he was on his way back to the city to attend your wedding.

//——

Truthfully, Kaveh hadn’t been sure what he’d expected from Al-Haitham’s wedding, but it certainly hadn’t been this.

It wasn’t an exorbitant nor grand affair really, however it wasn’t small either. It was likely to accommodate your extended family and handful of friends. Truthfully, Kaveh was likely the only guest that was technically from the groom’s side, and even then, you’d been the one to give him the invitation.

It was bewildering how despite having yet more pieces to this puzzle, Kaveh was only growing more confused. 

He knew Al-Haitham. He knew that he preferred solitude to company. He was meticulous, so there was no way he didn’t know about this family dynamic of yours…so even then…what? How? Why? 

This situation was fishier than Lambad’s Fish Roll.

The architect quietly sipped on his glass of water as he stewed in his thoughts, waiting for the event to begin. He’d already taken in the venue, arrangement, and decor: and he approved. You’d selected a large glass-roofed pavilion nestled among grand trees, so not only was it cool despite being an open structure, it smelled amazing - oh and the trees provided additional protection from the sun.

You’d selected teal and gold to accent the otherwise white drapings festooned among the rafters…well it felt like you’d leaned more towards teal than white though. The color was reminiscent of the solitudinous scribe that had chosen companionship in an unprecedented twist of events.

Kaveh still didn’t buy it.

He couldn’t believe that you would be the dishonest one…yet he-maybe he didn’t know you well enough? But Al-Haitham said he was the one who proposed. Urgh he was getting a headache trying to think about it.

Wait. Al-Haitham …proposed?

He hadn’t paid that much mind when the scribe had mentioned it in the past, as it was customary for men to do so…and well, he was shocked Al-Haitham had even managed to impress a lady. Maybe that wasn’t it-maybe he’d been shocked that Al-Haitham had taken interest in another human being, let alone a girl, enough to tie himself to her. 

“Are you okay? You didn’t eat anything weird did you?” The architect found his attention being pulled back to the wedding hall by the inquiry.

“Ah, sorry are you talking to m-” his courteous smile fell into an open mouth, “Tighnari?”

The forest watcher had an amused smile on his face as he smiled at the bewildered guest, “I’m guessing you never got to see the guest list?”

The scoff left Kaveh before he could think to suppress it, “please, Al-Haitham wouldn’t even tell me her name, let alone let me see the guest list.” 

The groom’s disgruntled housemate was struck with the realization a moment after, “I doubt he even had it.”

That earned a muffled laugh from his friend. Which was when Kaveh noticed the other presence accompanying him.

“Hello,” the shorter man greeted in his usual tone. 

Unbelievable! Cyno?! The General Mahamatra himself? Was the position of Grand Scribe so great that- just- what? How?

Kaveh quickly recovered to comment on the situation, “Cyn-”

“Not so loud,” the sheer pressure the intimidating matra exerted was enough to silence him, but the man had covered his mouth as an additional precautionary measure, “don’t draw any unnecessary attention to us.”

The architect nodded, his mouth firmly shut. 

Wait, if these two were present, then-the blonde started looking around for the third member of this endearing family. “What are you looking for?” The skilled huntsman inquired.

“Ah! I was just looking to see if Collei was with you,” Kaveh smiled, “she isn’t?”

“The ladies at the door took her to see the bride,” Tighnari informed him with a smile, “she wanted to see her personally before everything started.”

“Oh! So Collei knows the bride?” Yet another surprise, he wondered how that happened.

“Yes.”

“It’s the reason we’re here,” Cyno folds his arms across his chest.

“To accompany Collei?”

“Well, I was invited too,” the forest watcher explained, “she didn’t know to invite Cyno though, so I asked if he could come along.”

“I’d rather you didn’t say my name,” the general grumbled, “I don’t want people to be uncomfortable because of my presence.”

The architect couldn’t help the way his expression fell upon hearing that. There was no denying just how powerful Cyno was, and how intimidating they could make the man, but…that wasn’t all there was to him. It would explain his lack of headdress…and different outfit as well. Both friends had worn what were likely their best outfits for the event, and they looked phenomenal! Make no mistake. 

“Don’t mention this to Collei,” he found his attention being pulled back to the conversation by the considerate general, “she doesn’t know about this arrangement. She thinks I was invited as well.”

“Do you know the bride?”

“No. I’ve never met her.”

“I put Collei under the impression that he received a courtesy invitation as a high-ranking member of the Akademiya, given Al-Haitham’s position,” the tall-eared botanist was quick to supply.

“Oh. Do you know the bride then Tighnari?” Kaveh asked.

“Yes,” his expression was pleased, “she came to me while working on some research of hers once. She’d found a fossil of an extinct plant species around some ruins and wanted to ask me about it.”

Ah. That made sense.

“She even had a sample that was preserved in amber,” the botanist continued excitedly, “when I told her I might be able to revive and cultivate it, she let me keep it.” 

“Really? The Vahumana Darshan let her just give it away like that?” Cyno asked.

“Not without a fight,” the Amurta scholar shook his head, “we weren’t going to take no for an answer though, so they relented in the end.”

“So it was an authorized transfer of artifacts then?”

“You’re working at a wedding?” Kaveh huffed, exasperated.

“I work to preserve the moral order, I cannot overlook these things,” the diligent general fixed him with a look.

“Yes, it was an authorized transfer,” came a sigh from the botanist, “you would have heard about it otherwise, when word broke out, some of the higher ups were trying to get the matra involved.”

“Really?” Then again, Kaveh knew how scholars at the Akademiya could be, “I’m assuming it was the Vahumana Darshan?”

“Yes,” Tighnari folded his arms across his chest, “they were trying to intimidate her out of handing over the sample.”

“How pathetic,” the present matra scowled, “the matra aren’t tools for egotistical squabbles.”

“You know how scholars can be,” the forest watcher sighed, then grinned, “they failed though. All they succeeded in doing was angering her enough to take it up to the Vahumana Sage.”

“Then the sage authorized the transfer?” Cyno inquired.

“Yes,” his tailed friend confirmed, pleased with the outcome, “and now I have the sample in my care.”

If Kaveh was honest he was mildly surprised by all this. Then again, being driven by emotion seemed true to your mocking moniker. Yet this was all so strange. Had he had the wrong image of you this whole time?

“Looks like Collei’s back,” the declaration drew the blonde’s attention back to the venue as he followed the general’s line of sight.

There she was, the sweet trainee forest ranger. 

Goodness she was precious! What with her elegant, deep purple dress. Much like her usual dress it had no sleeves, however unlike her usual dress its flared skirt hovered only slightly above the floor. She looked like a princess really!

Collei always felt more mature than her age, but seeing her all dressed up was, well, quite the reminder of just how grown up she really was. Wait. Did this mean they’d have to be vigilant for any opportunistic, immature boys at this wedding?

“Kaveh! Hi!” She greeted him first.

“Hello!” He beamed back at her. “That’s a lovely dress! It really suits you!”

“Really?” She giggled, clearly embarrassed. “So I don’t look weird in it?”

“Weird?” It was bewildering that she even thought that! “Impossible! That dress looks like it was made for you!”

“See?” The architect looked over to her protective caretakers, who looked at her with knowing looks.

She giggled awkwardly as though trying to ease the tension before rushing towards her teacher, “master, I was asked to bring you these to cover your ears for when they enter, in case the sound proofing wasn’t enough.”

Tighnari’s ears twitched as he took the fabrics, and Collei continued, “some more people are coming to set up some more sound proofing fabric around the table too! So hopefully you won’t need to use the fabric.”

“Oh so that’s what these heavy drapes were for,” the blonde looked to the fabrics that had been strategically placed around the table - they didn’t completely isolate them from the party and they didn’t block airflow either, however they were only present around this table. 

The sensitive-eared botanist’s brow pinched despite the small upturn of his lips, “they’re being really accommodating.”

“Well they invited you to a noisy event, so this is the least they could do,” Cyno folded his arms across his chest, “otherwise we would give them an earful.”

Oh please not now. He’d been doing so well up until now.

The ill-humored man’s friend seemed to share in his exasperation as he shot him an irritated look. He then turned back to his pupil, “what’s that basket for?” He nodded at the basket of petals in her hands.

“Oh! She uh,” Kaveh melted at the timid smile, he could understand his friends’ adoption of her as a little sister, “she asked me if I’d like to be a part of the ceremony. I’m just going to be tossing these petals over them as they enter.”

He should have brought his kamera with him. That would make for an excellent photo and he’s sure these two would want one too.

“She actually asked me if I wanted to bring up her ring to the front too, uh y’know for when they have to put them on, but,” she looked down as she shifted on her feet, “it didn’t feel right.”

“If she was asking, doesn’t that mean it was okay?”

“I was thinking the same!” The architect immediately backed the incognito matra.

“I mean, yes, but, uh,” the trainee struggled for words, “she has a lot of family, so it didn’t feel fair for me to…”

It was as she was searching for the correct phrasing that a group of men politely interrupted the conversation to set up additional fabrics around the table. 

“That was very considerate of you Collei,” her master reassured her, picking up where the conversation had left off. 

“Oh! Actually,” the girl turned to give the architect her full attention, “she was wondering if you were gonna take up Al-Haitham’s ring.”

“Me?” He hadn’t been informed of anything of the sort.

Wait. 

“She was wondering?” You two hadn’t discussed this ahead of time? “To my knowledge usually one person takes both rings up, and usually it’s the parents,” the architect pinched the bridge of his nose, “what are they thinking?”

“Maybe they wanted to do something new in their own wedding?” The everso calm botanist suggested.

“Perhaps,” then that was likely your suggestion and not Al-Haitham’s, “I haven’t seen him since yesterday and he didn’t say anything.”

“Pardon,” the men who were setting up the drapes interrupted again, “is this more comfortable? Should we add more insulation?”

“Are the sound levels going to be any louder than this for the party?” The intended target of the question returned.

“Only for the entrance and the dabka.”

“I’m concerned it’s going to get too hot,” he nodded at the trio before him, “what do you think?”

“I can handle the heat, no need to worry about me,”

“Of course you can,” Kaveh rolled his eyes, “it feels fine for now, you can add more, just don’t cut off our ventilation.”

The group of men started talking amongst themselves when a lady rushed to join them.

“Sorry that we’re making these final adjustments at the last minute,” her tone was frantic and deeply apologetic, “we’d intended not to inconvenience you like this, but our bride’s been worried it wouldn’t be good enough.”

Kaveh cast a glance at the forest watcher whom everyone was trying to accommodate.

“She really wasn’t joking when she said she’d do whatever she can to make things comfortable,” he huffed his hands finding his hips.

“There’s nothing ruder than inviting a guest with special capabilities or known sensitivities and not accommodating them,” the lady elegantly gestured to emphasize her point, “can’t argue with that logic really.”

The conversation ended as the men called out to the lady. The space was then filled with the bickering of the different men who were struggling to figure out how to best arrange the drapes to insulate sound, but not air, and some suggestions from the lady. 

“Could I be allowed to help?” Kaveh intervened as things were starting to look hopeless.

“Oh?” She turned to look at the architect. “Sure. Please do.”

He took the reins from there. It was within his area of expertise after all. Kaveh instructed the workers to bring more fabrics and then helped them arrange the barriers so that they still had airflow, however the sound that reached was greatly reduced. Even the forest ranger agreed that this was more comfortable, thanking everyone who helped out.

Once the lady confirmed that everything was good and everyone was comfortable, she swiftly left, likely to deal with yet another last minute crisis. Following her movements, the group noticed that the hall was mostly full, meaning that the festivities would soon begin. This proved true as some young ladies, most likely around Collei’s age, with flower baskets walked in, taking to the edges of the center aisle. The trainee forest ranger excused herself to go stand at her own spot, which wasn’t all that far from the table.

“You’re going to use those then?” Kaveh  turned back towards his companions at the inquiry-seems it had been pointed at Tighnari though. “You'd better wrap it up quickly then.”

Urgh. Not another one of those jokes. He didn’t know how he’d get through the whole ceremony if Cyno kept these up.

“I do think it would be a good idea to cover your ears,” the ever-so socially experienced architect advised, “wedding entrances can be very loud, even for people with normal hearing.”

“It looks like I’ll have to,” the man’s sensitive ears drooped, as he begrudgingly began covering them, “oh these are actually rather comfortable.”

It was just as Tighnari finished wrapping up his ears that a lady began to ulalate from the other end of the hall, prompting all the other ladies present to join her. Casting a glance to the forest ranger he observed him grimace holding his ears down to his head in an attempt to cancel out the sound. There really was only so much the hosts could do.

“Are you alright?” Kaveh inquired.

“Yeah,” his sensitive friend nodded, “it isn’t nearly as bad as it could be, and once I put my ears down it’s fine.”

“That’s good, I suppose.”

The sounds of drums and tambourines followed the ululations. The familiar wedding beat bouncing in from beyond the entrance. Kaveh was inhaling deeply before he even knew it, as it was clear what would be coming next. Another wave of ululations rang out, and petals flew as an older couple walked in through the doors, followed closely by that lady from earlier who was guiding and partially supporting a somewhat familiar looking blue-haired lady. 

She really did look familiar…where had he seen her before? The Akademiya maybe? It would make sense for you to be friends with fellow scholars. Had he seen her around the Akademiya? Or maybe at a tea house? A tavern?

He was rummaging through his mental archives to figure out what about the lady from before was so familiar when the drummers leaped through the entrance performing an assortment of flips, spins, twirls, and other performative feats all while drumming with yet more petals raining down among them. They were going to run out of petals before the main act if they kept this up. 

Seems he hadn’t needed to worry though, it had only been a single toss for their entry. The troupe continued with their drumming, adding in some little shouts of encouragement to excite and entertain the guests which clearly worked with how a lady or two threw out some clipped ululations and the crowd’s rhythmic clapping became noticeable. It was when a couple of the drummers kneeled near the end of the aisle that yet another wave of ululations rang out, accompanying the jingling of the tambourines and thuds of the drums as the two of you finally made your entrance, your hand gently nestled into the crook of your groom’s elbow as the two of you walked in together. 

The architect found his breath hitching slightly at the sight. 

You were positively radiant: in that pristine white dress, with that bright, bashful smile. You seemed to glide along with how the skirt of your dress flowed about you. Really your dress was a work of art: the intricate turtleneck, the loose fitting sleeves that puffed near the bottom before slimming to fit into an ornate cuff that matched the neckline, and again that long flowing skirt. 

Observing you, the artist noticed the way your eyes crinkled as you looked at Collei, who looked like she was enjoying being a part of the procession, and appreciated the little wave you gave him, returning it without a moment’s hesitation. 

He then focused his attention on his housemate. The scribe cleaned up nicely, he’d admit. He’d worn a proper outfit for a change! It almost fascinated him how many articles the man owned that followed the same color palette. His attire was more modest than usual, his sharval (sherwani, achkan, whatever people liked to call it) fit him very nicely, though it was black . 

Really? 

Would it kill him to wear something brighter for his own wedding? Thankfully, it was embroidered with a muted gold, complimenting the similarly colored etching on the fabric. The only real color his outfit afforded was the rivulet of his matching kamarband and turban. Huh, he’d never expected Al-Haitham to be one for turbans. The scribe’s hair had been swept away to reveal more of his face for a change as well…

Had he actually put in some effort for the event? No, not likely. The more probable conclusion was, as he suspected, that your family had taken him in and dressed him up for the event. 

Was that? Oh….

Of all the things he’d seen, the thing that stood out the most, wasn’t your sheer radiance, nor the fact that the scribe had obviously put in some effort into dressing up for the wedding. No. It was the slight, small, smug upturn of the scholar’s lips. Yes, it was the self-satisfied expression on the groom’s face as he led his bride down to their shared seat at the front. And held your hand as he helped you settle down with your dress, not that you needed much help.

Hmph.

He expressed his distaste much later, when the rings were exchanged, without a problem, and everyone had gotten some food from the generous buffet.

Collei, dear darling Collei, had been looking out to the two of you with a gentle smile, “they look happy don’t they?” 

“I’d say he looks more smug,” the architect corrected.

“Does he?” The forest watcher turned to look at the scribe. “He looks more pleased to me.”

“Yeah,” Kaveh scoffed, his cheek resting in his palm, “pleased with himself.”

“That’s a biased statement,” Tighnari returned effortlessly as he grabbed his plate.

“I have dealt with him the most,” he eyed the scribe as the man withdrew two fingers from under his turban while leaning in so his ear was closer to your mouth, then smirked at something you’d said - something the two of you had been doing quite a bit ever since sitting down, “meaning I can read him the best.”

That earned a sigh from his table, however no one bothered commenting on it, as they were distracted by the botanist that rose from his seat to collect more food. A somewhat awkward silence passed over the table, until Cyno made an observation: “he’s talking to someone.”

“Who?” Kaveh looked around, only to notice he’d meant Tighnari.

It was the lady from before, he believed. The conversation seemed pleasant enough, the two smiling at each other. Well, weddings were often where people found their own partners…The architect had barely thought that, when the lady had left the forest watcher who continued to spoon food onto his plate. When she returned she had a parcel with her, which she passed on to the skilled botanist with a smile and a nod.

“Wasn’t that the lady from before the ceremony?” The curious architect inquired as the ranger sat down.

“Yes.”

“She seemed rather invested in your conversation.”

“She’s married,” the adept bowman nipped the conversation in the bud, having detected his friend’s intent.

“Oh uh yes,” well the architect felt rather sheepish now, “who-who was she?”

“Doctor Natheera,” his tall-eared friend informed him, “I helped her find a cure for a really annoying ailment once, and she’s been wanting to thank me since.”

“A gift of gratitude,” the general nodded, seemingly pleased, “seems like a nice person.”

“I thought so too!” The matra’s little sister in spirit agreed. “When she and the bride were talking they reminded me a lot of when you and master talk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes!”

“That would explain why she was helping organize things,” Tighnari mused.

The group resumed eating, save for Collei who got up to refill her own plate, at which point Cyno conveniently decided it was time for him to refill his own plate. Sometimes Kaveh wondered if all their worrying was stifling for the girl.

He heard a small huff of amusement from his sole remaining companion. When he turned to look at him, the bowman was looking towards the front of the hall where you two were sat. That was when his own ears picked up on the growing chant: “feed him, feed him, feed him.”

Your expression was scandalized, there was even a look of betrayal as you looked at the aforementioned Dr. Natheera, who had a most pleased smile. Seems you were as close as Collei had conjectured. You turned to look at Al-Haitham who had his usual dull expression as he watched you. The two of you seemed to have a small exchange, resulting in you releasing the tension in your shoulders with a sigh of resignation.

You weren’t actually about to feed Al-Haitham were you?! Sure this was customary in weddings - but!

You definitely were going to feed him. The fact that prickly man was going along with it though! Grabbing a samosa from your plate, you gingerly held it out to him, your other palm ready to collect any stray crumbs, and the grown man actually took a bite out of it.

While this was usually a charming display, Kaveh’s stomach churned at what he was seeing.

Of course it wouldn’t end there. The crowd began demanding that he return the favor. You were vocal in your opposition this time, (if the way you turned to debate the crowd was any indication) clearly very embarrassed by these demands. He couldn’t exactly hear you over the chatter and what with him being in the sound-proofed corner, however it was clear you were arguing against it. Your friends and family were steadfast however, and it seemed like the unflappable groom had nothing against it.

Really, Kaveh shared your surprise when you turned to the scribe wide-eyed. While he couldn’t hear anything, if your expression was anything to go by, he’d likely agreed. Well, with how he was already holding a samosa up, ready to complete the request, he definitely had. Once again, you resigned yourself to your fate, taking a bite from the samosa.

Cheers and ululations erupted from the merry crowd that had bullied you into such displays of affection. You’d had a mildly amused, mildly defeated smile as the crowd dispersed. Your hus…husb…(he still struggled with the term) companion, looked as unbothered as ever, watching you as he finished the samosa you’d fed him earlier.

Later when you’d cut the cake and been served a piece each, you gave the troupe that had bullied you earlier a look as you used a fork to cut off a piece, aggressively spear it, and hold it up to your…hus…band…husband. Al-Haitham really was married now wasn’t he?

Al-Haitham was. 

Al-Haitham of all people. 

Kaveh was still struggling to comprehend it.

Nevertheless, he refocused on the current event. Seems the two of you were discussing the feeding ritual, you seemed rather apologetic, he seemed unbothered, once again ducking his head to eat what you were offering. However you’d tried to make it easier so he wouldn’t have to duck as much, so the cake instead ended up missing his mouth, smushing against his philtrum, likely going into his nostrils as well.

A small laugh escaped the architect despite himself. It was clear you were mortified with how you froze up for a moment, yet your lips turned upwards at the absurdity of the event. You were likely apologizing profusely as you wasted no time grabbing a napkin to wipe the cream off his face. Your groom took it from you and cleaned it off himself. You were still apologizing, despite your smile, with how your mouth was moving as you prepared another bite of cake.

You held up the bite to your groom again, choosing to remain stationary this time. Some squeals and hollers erupted from the guests, making both the groom and the botanist to his side wince, when Al-Haitham grabbed your wrist to hold it in place, as he successfully managed to eat the new bite.

It was a wonder how your eyes remained in your sockets. Then again your soon-to-be-housemate was just as shocked as you. 

How cheeky! 

Well that’s what Kaveh would have thought had the perpetrator of such a move been anyone other than Al-Haitham. Knowing the ever-so logical scribe however, he likely figured this would be the best way to avoid a repeat of the previous accident. He’d had absolutely no idea this was the reaction he’d garner, and his wince earlier was evidence. His housemate could almost laugh at the man’s mostly confused reaction. Well he imagined it was confused, given he didn’t look smug.

There was an amused huff from his companion with sensitive hearing who likely could hear what was happening, despite being so far away.

“What’s happening?” Kaveh asked. 

“They’re just saying that he ought to repay the favor,” he answered, “they’re asking him to smear her face with cake too.”

“That was clearly an accident!”

“It’s mostly the men who are encouraging him.”

“He doesn’t look particularly interested in complying with them,” Cyno commented having returned to the table at that moment, “some encourage -men they are.”

“I’m surprised he’s even bothering with any of this,” if Kaveh were to pause and consider all that was happening: things were very strange.

Al-Haitham wasn’t one for social gatherings, much less parties like weddings. While it was true that the wedding had been limited to family (most likely those who would be upset at not receiving an invitation) and close friends on your part…while all that was true: it still was a decently large congregation. As for cultural practices, well it wasn’t like that scribe cared much for people’s opinions so he wouldn’t have felt compelled to comply. So how had he agreed to such a wedding?

Of course weddings also had a function: aside from being a celebration they were also a very public announcement: a way to make a couple’s “exclusive romantic claim,” to one another clear to the community. Though if that was the reason he’d complied, it would imply a real interest in you. He meant nothing against you, but with how Al-Haitham was, that didn’t seem likely. Unless he simply complied in order to avoid inquiries as to the legitimacy of your relationship?

Unfortunately that sounded like the most likely theory.

That didn’t explain his compliance with the minor wedding customs though. Hmph…had something piqued his interest then? That would explain things, for the most part. But what is it that had piqued his interest? And how were you involved?

//—-

When the cake was served and eaten, the music troupe went to a designated corner to play music at the behest of some of the more energetic guests. The botanist on the table smiled as he said that it was nice to be able to enjoy a party for a change, meaning the music wasn’t too loud for him. His disciple seemed particularly happy with that statement agreeing with him.

While he wasn’t much of a dancer, Kaveh wouldn’t deny the appeal of partaking in the dabka train. He looked to his companions to see if anyone else would be interested in joining him, only to notice their youngest member watching the crowd earnestly.

“Would you like to join them?” He invited her. “I was thinking of joining in myself.”

“Oh no,” Collei shook her head and hands, “I’m fine just watching it.”

“Are you sure?” At her nervous expression he chose not to press the matter. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

She nodded with a little, “okay,” and he went to join the crowd.

Dancing at Al-Haitham’s wedding. Hah! He never thought he’d do that. He cast the groom a look as he grabbed the hand of the man at the end of the train, the man of the hour staring straight back at him. There was some movement to the man’s side and he noticed you watching him with a pleasant expression as he fell into step with everyone else.

It was fun.

At some point a couple of young ladies joined on his free side, blushing a bit with shy smiles as he smiled at them. He also got to talk a bit with your cousin who was part of the original chain of dancers. Upon revealing his relationship to the groom he was promoted to the front of the line. There was some pressure as the guy before him had quite some skill, and some powerful knees, he wouldn’t deny. However he took the napkin and waved it around and did his best with his own style. It was rather satisfying when he was cheered on. He left shortly after that, needing water. 

“You had some really impressive moves!” He found himself growing even warmer at Collei’s praise.

“You’re more nimble than you seem,” the experienced warrior studied him.

“Why thank you,” he smiled as he plopped himself down, his hand reaching for the water pitcher and his glass, “I picked it up at the different weddings I’ve been to.”

“Were they like this one?” The girl asked as he chugged the water.

“They were…similar?” He thought about it. “This wedding is relatively quieter, smaller, and friendlier than some of the others.”

“Friendlier?”

“You can tell most of the people here really want them to be happy,” he nodded out to the guests, “they seem to really value each other.”

“So some other weddings would be hotbeds for gossip,” he turned to the tailed forest watcher, “is that what you’re saying?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he refilled his cup, “or just blatant displays of vanity rather than a celebration.”

When he was met with solemn silence, he noticed the two men thinking and the lady kind of downtrodden.

“But this one doesn’t feel like that,” the architect nodded at the front, “I talked a bit with her cousins and they’re all teasing each other and joking around. It’s nice.”

“Oh let me guess they were saying something like: we’re surprised we married her off somehow, right?”

Your appearance startled only Collei and Kaveh, the other two had likely detected your approach with their sharp senses long before.

“Hello!” The architect greeted.

“Hello!” You returned beaming at them all - you looked even lovelier up close. 

Whoever had applied your makeup had chosen to use as little as possible and to focus on enhancing your features, rather than demonstrate their artistic skills. Your hands however had intricate floral designs that disappeared under your sleeves, meaning your henna artist had gone above and beyond to demonstrate their skill and finesse. 

“How are you all?” You asked and received the standard response.

“Thank you so much for coming!” You turned to Collei, beaming, “I’m so happy you could make it.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Tighnari was the one who replied, smiling, “and congratulations on your marriage.”

“Yeah! Congratulations!” His student parroted. “I hope you have a happy time-uh-life together!”

“Thank you,” your smile had that same wistful quality he’d seen that time when you’d been on your way to buy fabrics with Al-Haitham. 

You brightened up soon enough as you let out a stream of questions, “I hope you’ve been having fun?” Kaveh got the sense this question was more for Collei. “Has the noise been alright? I know they started up the music again, but I can have them tone it down, or wrap it up quickly if it’s too much.”

The forest ranger gave a little chuckle, his appreciation written all over his face, “no, thanks to how you’ve set this table up, I’ve been alright, thank you.”

“Not at all! If there’s anything I can do to make things more comfortable, just let me know- please let me know.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Or you can let Natheera know too, if that would make you more comfortable,” you continued suggesting, going so far as to gesture to where she could be found. 

“That way it wouldn’t look like he’s the reason why the music has to end,” the adept general nodded in understanding, “clever.” 

You turned to Cyno then, your expression becoming nervous…whether that was at the prospect of meeting a new person, or because you were sensing the intimidating aura of the General Mahamatra, he wasn’t sure. Though it wasn’t like you recognized him…did you?

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you introduced yourself to the man, “pleasure to meet you. I heard from Tighnari that you’re good friends…uh…”

You fell silent, a look of panic flashing over your face. “I’m so sorry, I can’t remember your name, or if I got your name. I don’t think I did?”

“I never gave it to you,” Tighnari intervened, “so you’re not at fault.”

“You may call me Onyc,” Cyno? Telling a lie?

No wait, he never said his name was Onyc. He said you could call him that! What a clever way to not lie…but how did he come up with-

He tried not to be too obvious with his expression. Onyc…did he really just reverse the letters of his name? Seriously?

Judging by your expression, you didn’t seem to buy it, “Anees*?” You looked confused. “Did I hear that right?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him, just that you didn’t hear him properly. You were confused by the unfamiliar name. How fortunate.

The matra didn’t respond, and in your nervousness you continued talking, “I hope things have been okay for you as well? Enjoyable? Hopefully?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “thank you for your consideration.”

“It was my pleasure,” your expression softened.

Lastly you turned to the architect, “how about you, Kaveh? Doing alright? Sorry we never got to have that talk.”

“Please don’t worry about it,” he smiled at you, how could he have possibly thought you could be dishonest when you remembered that he’d wished to talk to you? 

“Congratulations,” he managed to force the word out of his throat, “I hope that,” he could say it, “husband of yours cherishes you.”

That earned a small laugh and yet another forlorn smile from you, “thank you.”

A short silence washed over you, filled by only the sounds of drums and tambourines in the background. You refocused your gaze on the architect, “I’m really happy you came.”

“Well I wasn’t about to leave you to deal with Al-Haitham by yourself,” he responded quickly, “I won’t deny I was curious to see Al-Haitham of all people get married.”

You laughed at that, a hearty amused laugh. After that you asked after everyone one last time before inviting Collei to join you for the dabka, if she wanted to.

“You could be on the end, and hold my hand if that would make you more comfortable?” You offered. “I’m not forcing you! Just if you want to!”

The girl seemed to really consider it this time. “You can accept the offer if you want to,” the incognito matra “Anees” suggested.

“You can say no too,” you comforted her, “I can also give you some time to think about it.”

She looked at her mentor for a moment, who smiled at her, “if you think you can, and you want to, I’m not going to stop you.”

The girl thought about it for a long moment, before finally taking a deep breath, choosing to rise to her feet. Kaveh joined you as you cheered happily. She slipped her hand into yours, flinching only slightly as you held it back. With that you were off. 

“We are witnessing the marriage of something Celestial to something Abyssal,” the architect commented, watching as you and your doctor friend arranged things so that Collei was marked as the untouchable end of the train by handing her a napkin, and your friend took your other hand to indicate the point at which people could join.

“You really can’t stand him, can you?” His long eared friend stifled a laugh.

“You wouldn’t be able to either if you had to live with him.”

“By admitting that, you acknowledge that you’re biased, yes?” Cyno was the one asking the question.

“Have you ever dealt with him Cy-ahem. Have you ever dealt with him?”

“I’ve seen him in passing,” the matra cast him a quick glance before refocusing his attention to where you were teaching the trainee forest ranger how to do the dabka.

You all began laughing as someone got up to correct you, and teach all three of you, your doctor friend included, how to do it properly. He felt his expression sour as he turned his attention to your groom who had opted to observe you, rather than join you.

“Then you lack the insight I have,” he turned his attention back to Cyno. 

“You mean the bias,” Tighnari corrected.

Oh! 

Just! 

He hated it when they teamed up like this!

“You two aren’t free of bias either!”

“We’re not saying we’re free of bias,” the botanist switched his attention from where Collei was smiling and laughing as the three of you slowly picked up how to do the dance, making mistakes and sometimes almost tripping over your dresses, to the architect beside him, “we’re just inviting you to acknowledge yours.”

He couldn’t deny his friend had a point. He was heavily biased. 

“Regardless of how everything turns out,” Tighnari spoke, “I’m glad we came,” he had a small smile as he looked back at the young lady in his care. 

“Yeah,” Cyno trailed off, “I guess you could say it’s A-nees party.”

That earned a chorus of groans.

They had to suffer through a few more of Cyno’s abysmal jokes; the architect wondered how he came up with them. He wondered if he’d ever run out. Seems his close friend’s patience with them had thinned completely as he chose to revive the conversation.

“Where will you be staying tonight?” The inquiry managed to stop the aspiring hobbyist comedian in his tracks.

“What do you mean?” Kaveh’s brows furrowed.

“Well there’s an open room in the inn Collei and I are staying at,” he offered, “I could take you with me if you’d like.”

“There’s no need for that,” the architect waved his hand dismissively, “I’ll be going home to my room.”

The forest watcher’s ears twitched, “really?”

“Where else would I stay?” The blonde frowned.

“I just thought, given this is their wedding night,” he nodded his head towards the front of the hall, “you’d want to stay somewhere else.” 

Looking at his friend with exceptional hearing, the architect folded his arms across his chest, “if anything, that’s precisely the reason I’ll be going home for the night.” 

When he received mirrored looks of disgust, he was quick to explain: “I’m trying to prevent further damage! At the very least one of them is bound to be hesitant if I’m present in the house!”

Unfortunately they continued to look at him with disapproval - a slight improvement from disgust but not great either!

“I tried to talk to her about why she was going through with this!” He found himself elaborating exasperatedly. “Her responses…they’re peculiar. The circumstances…they’re weird…there’s something off...”

There was something very off.

“Maybe you can’t see it,” he continued, casting a glance first at Al-Haitham who was now discussing something with someone and then at you who was laughing with Collei, “but I just want to stop them from doing something they’ll regret!”

While the botanist shook his head with a tired sigh, the matra looked pensive.

“You’re not wrong,” he hummed after a short silence, earning the attention of both other men.

“You sensed it too?” Your self-proclaimed advocate filled up with hope.

“Really?” Meanwhile the long-eared man was more curious.

“It felt like she was hiding something,” the matra said, “she seemed guilty.”

“You’re not going to exact judgment on her or anything are you?” It was mildly concerning that the matra had sensed guilt of all things from you.

“No,” he answered flatly, looking out towards where you were most likely, “feeling guilty and being guilty are two different things.”

Well that was a relief…

But why did you feel guilty?

Of course the relief could only be momentary, as he noticed that his housemate had concluded his conversation from before. He might as well go and greet him and get it over with. With a little huff he excused himself to make his way to the stoic groom. Upon making eye-contact with the disagreeable scholar, said scholar stuck two fingers under his turban, yet again…

“I never thought I’d ever see you at one of these parties,” he greeted the groom once he was close enough.

“As I am the groom, it was unavoidable,” he shrugged.

Kaveh huffed a little laugh, “good to see you have that much sense.”

“Weddings are not simply celebrations,” yes, he was very much aware of that, “historically their primary function was to serve as an announcement, hence our holding a wedding.” 

The meticulous architect found his attention drawn to a minute movement around the scribe’s neck as the man folded his arms across his chest. Which was when he noticed the familiar pale-gold peeking out from under the teal turban. 

This!

…urgh. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You wore your soundproof earpieces to your own wedding?” He couldn’t believe it. No wait, this was Al-Haitham, so he could.

“Is there a problem with wearing my soundproof earpieces to my own wedding?”

That explained why he kept sticking his fingers under the turban. This insufferable logistician had worn his beloved soundproof earpieces to his own wedding. Really, of all things. No wonder he’d opted to wear a turban! It would hide the earpieces!

How had he even come up with the idea?

“Yes there’s a problem with wearing them to your wedding!” Kaveh returned without thinking. “It’s your own wedding!”

“Given it’s my wedding shouldn’t I be allowed to do as I please?” The socially inept scribe frowned at his guest.

He made a fair point, but…but! “It’s disrespectful to be so disengaged from the people who are celebrating your marriage!”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is!” Kaveh had to wonder how you had put up with him for the whole evening. And how were you going to put up with him for the rest of your life?

You chose that moment to rejoin them, a little winded from the light exercise you’d been doing. You were looking between the two of them, your expression teetering between amused and disbelieving.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Yes,” your groom turned to look at you, then back at the bewildered socialite in front of him, then back to you, “Kaveh here thinks it’s inappropriate to wear soundproof earpieces to a wedding.”

“Most people with common sense understand that it’s common courtesy to not cover your ears when guests are over,” the architect insisted.

“Ohhhhh,” your shoulders relaxed and you looked at your rude cohost, “well according to social customs it is generally deemed rude,” he knew you’d understand!

“However it’s only really rude when you’re not listening to the guests and ignoring them,” how was it that you managed to completely betray his expectations? “It’s perceived as rude because people assume you’re not listening to them, so as long as you are, there’s no real issue.”

Somehow it only got worse from there as you turned from Al-Haitham, who’d been staring at you intently as you spoke, to Kaveh, “it was my idea to have him wear them and cover them with a turban though.”

“Your idea?” Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable!

“It’s his wedding,” you gestured at your groom, “he should be afforded the opportunity to attend it comfortably,” now that he’d heard this argument twice it truly was starting to sound reasonable, “not everyone can tolerate prolonged exposure to loud environments, and Al-Haitham has to be here. He’s obligated to be here, his attendance is mandatory.”

Looking back at the allegedly sensitive scribe, Kaveh was met with a truly punchable expression. Of course he wouldn’t stop there, no, it wouldn’t be Al-Haitham if he didn’t rub salt into the wound.

“As I said,” oh he could wipe that self-pleased expression off his face! “It’s my wedding, I can do as I please.”

“So long as you aren’t rude to the guests,” you appended.

“Yes, of course.”

‘Yes, of course,’ he says!

What was more unbelievable was how you were enabling this poor etiquette from him. You, who had been so incredibly hospitable to your guests! 

Ah. 

He saw it now: your hospitality extended to your groom as well. What a lucky guy he was indeed, snatching up such an accommodating lady to be his wife.

“Anyway,” the architect shook away his thoughts to look at his junior, “I came here to congratulate you on your,” quite frankly shocking and unexpected, “marriage.”

“Thank you,” was the response he received. Oh did the scribe sound smug! Just-

“Thank you Kaveh,” your thanking him again saved him the grief of his displeased caravan of thoughts.

He nodded and left the two of you to return to his seat. Of course on his way back one of the older ladies present greeted him, striking up a mostly pleasant conversation…up until she mentioned she had a daughter. At which point multiple other ladies who also had daughters joined in the conversation. Flattered as he was, he wasn’t in any state to marry…financially speaking that is.

Of course he couldn’t let any of these ladies know that. He had a reputation to live up to after all.

Wait…

Did any of these ladies happen to have sons?  

He scanned the room looking for Tighnari’s darling trainee, thankfully she was chatting away with what looked to be a girl around her age. Somehow that put him at ease. It seemed like the aunties hadn’t approached Collei to mention they had sons.

Wait, that wasn’t how it went. They’d ask who’s daughter she was, is what they’d do! Oh he hoped no one had asked! Then again…considering Tighnari was her guardian, he’d have no problem shutting down any ladies who did take an interest in her. 

He ended up entertaining the mothers for a while, and even got to meet some of their daughters. The daughters in question had actually come trying to collect their mothers while casting him apologetic glances. One of them was a fellow Kshahrewar scholar herself, she quickly complimented his work, thanking him for his contributions to the craft and telling him that she used his designs as references very often, before ushering her protesting mother back to their table.

That might have been the highlight of the night. That girl seemed genuinely interested in his work, it wasn’t a ploy for his attention. After all she made to essentially drag her mother away while saying that. Very amusing display that was, especially as her mother was trying to invite him over for lunch at their house, meanwhile her daughter tried to talk over her so as to not put him on the spot.

Your family truly was lovely. 

Now surrounded by fewer ladies searching for a son-in-law, he strategically excused himself to return to his companions. It was precisely because of the reputation he was protecting that all these women thought he’d be a good match for their daughters. This isn’t to say he wouldn’t cherish whatever lady he was to marry, however they were likely seeking him out for his perceived wealth, and health, not for his character. He couldn’t blame them though, how would they know about his character when they’ve never met him?

Which was likely why they could celebrate this union. After all, as Al-Haitham had said: on paper, he was an attractive candidate. How are they to know of the trials and strife he would bring their beloved bride?

//—

By the time Kaveh headed back to the house the party had dwindled down to being the younger members of your closest family and friends, with you being seated among them chatting away. Al-Haitham was in a discussion with some of the older men, likely your father and uncles, listening intently and commenting sparingly. 

Upon returning to the house, which he would be sharing with you as well now, where he was no longer surrounded by the energy of the crowds, the architect felt the exhaustion catch up to him. It was all he could do to prepare for bed. Collapsing on his familiar mattress with a sigh.

He fell asleep almost immediately.

And was entreated to quite the sight when he woke up.

While he knew you would be living with them from now on, it was still strange to see you in the context of his abode. You were rummaging through cabinets in the kitchen area, still in your wedding dress, strangely. 

You’d found what you were looking for and stood up the results of your search: a pan and a kettle. That was when you noticed him, a concerned expression seizing your features, “did I wake you?” Your tone was hushed.

“No,” he shook his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making myself something to eat,” you answered simply, “would you like me to make you something with me?”

That was all it took to have him rushing over to where you were, with a declaration of: “absolutely not!” As he tried to snatch the pan from your hand, however you were faster than he was, “you shouldn’t be doing any work!”

“Why not?” Your confusion was laid out clearly upon your features.

“You’re a new bride,” he explained, going by how your expression twisted further-you didn’t understand, “you shouldn’t be doing work, you should be served, pampered even!”

“And if there’s no one to serve and pamper me?” You returned flatly, gesturing with the pan, your other hand coming to rest on your hip-kettle still in hand. “I’m hungry. Am I supposed to starve while waiting to be served?”

Goodness you were the picture of a Sumerian mother. Your culturally aware acquaintance tried to snatch the pan from you again, and again you moved it out of the way, holding out the kettle instead, “could you fill this up with water please?”

“Just tell me what you’d like and I’ll be happy to make it,” Kaveh once again tried to grab the pan.

“I’m just going to be making fried eggs,” you moved towards where you already had your ingredients ready, “if you’d like, you could get the rest of the breakfast spread ready given you’re more knowledgeable of this kitchen?”

“Sure,” he relented, “but are you really going to fry eggs in your wedding dress? What if you got oil on it? At least wear the apron.”

“So you do have an apron?” You were particularly delighted by the knowledge, and he was delighted to have been able to grant you that knowledge. 

He pulled it out from its usual location and handed it to you, who took it gratefully. As he filled up the kettle with water, he couldn’t help but ask, “why are you still in your dress?”

“Because I slept in it,” you replied, tying up the apron.

“How did you sleep then?”

“Really well,” you poured oil into the pan, “my mother made my dress,” he could hear the pride in your voice as you said that, “so it’s incredibly comfortable.”

“Your mother made it?” Kaveh turned to look at the beautiful dress again.

“Yeah,” you smiled at him, even doing a little twirl, “isn’t it amazing?”

“Absolutely!”

“Sewing is a hobby of hers, so…” you trailed off, your smile fond, “did you want a fried egg with me?”

“Yes, please.”

You cracked the appropriate number of eggs into the pan, while he placed the kettle on the unused stovehead. “Your mother is incredibly skilled,” he commented, admiring the craftsmanship of your dress yet again.

“I know,” your eyes crinkled, “she’s amazing.”

He’d never talked with you about your parents before, so he’d never realized just how much you adored your mother. It was incredibly endearing. Turning away from you, he went to collect what vegetables were available, some bread, and some cheese, oh and some cream and honey of course, among other breakfast foods. “You weren’t going to wait for Al-Haitham to wake up?”

“I was considering it,” you admitted, staring at the pan, “however he’s told me before he isn’t a fan of rising early,” you checked the sides of the egg to see if the bottom had fried through yet or not, “and I’m hungry so…”

He turned from where he was washing the vegetables to see you looking at him, “I wasn’t going to wait for you either, you got lucky.”

That earned a laugh from him. Of course. It only made sense. 

Unfortunately with all the noise you were making, you ended up waking the third resident. Al-Haitham ambled out of his room, and just like you, he was still in his wedding attire. Without the turban and with the top few buttons of his sharval undone.

Seems he’d had nothing to worry about, you two were too tired to change out of your clothes, let alone do anything last night. 

You greeted him first, “sorry,” you looked repentant, “did we wake you?”

“Yes,” while it was good he was honest, he could try to be more considerate of your feelings.

“Sorry,” you grimaced, “would you like a fried egg?”

“No worries,” your tired groom said, taking a seat with a yawn, “and yes, thank you.”

There was something strange about his junior this morning, and it wasn’t that he was married now. Of course finding the difference was completely derailed when he noticed the scribe scrutinizing your every action, no doubt ready to provide some unsolicited advice and “corrections” with regards to how you were doing things. He wished the scholar would get up and help you rather than just sit back and assess you.

“Did you guys want tea or coffee?” Your voice slashed through your friend’s thoughts. “Do you have tea or coffee?”

“Ah-yes,” Kaveh rushed back to where you were opening a cabinet revealing spices, teas, and coffee. “We keep them here with the spices.”

“Thank you,” you smiled then turned so you were facing both men, “so, tea? Coffee? Coffee? Tea? What should I do with this boiling kettle?”

That was when Al-Haitham joined you, crowding the kitchen, “I drink coffee in the mornings.”

“How do you like your coffee?” You studied the scribe with interest.

“Black,” who would have guessed? As if he didn’t wear an abundance of the color, “I enjoy the unique flavor profile of the coffee itself.”

You hummed in agreement, “when it’s a good grind it tastes really good black.”

“I can make the tea,” the architect reached for one of the tightly sealed jars, “would you like some tea with me?”

“Depends on the tea.”

“It’s the standard Sumerian black tea,” Kaveh tilted the jar so you could see the contents.

“That smells better than the standard tea,” you commented at the smell that wafted out of the tea jar.

“So that’s a yes for the tea then?” You had a good nose! While similar to the standard tea, he had bought higher quality tea leaves. 

“Yes please,” then you nodded at the shelf, “what other teas did you have?”

Hmmm. Seems like you were a fellow tea drinker. Kaveh began listing the assortment of teas he’d collected into this household, expanding on their health benefits and inviting you to brew some whenever you liked. In fact, he hoped you would try all the teas with him some day when he was less busy! You agreed, stating you would be happy to expand your tea knowledge while placing the different plates of fried eggs in front of the three different seats.

“I’d have made something fancier if I’d known we’d be eating together,” you admitted embarrassedly once everyone was comfortably situated around the table, “I wasn’t sure when everyone would wake up.”

“It’s fine,” your ill-chosen spouse responded immediately, “it would be irrational to expect an elaborate meal from you in such a short time when you’re still unfamiliar with the layout of the kitchen.”

“Besides!” Kaveh added upon swallowing his food. “As I said before: you’re a new bride! You’re supposed to be pampered and waited upon!”

You let out a little huff of amusement, “again, am I supposed to starve if I’m hungry and there’s no one to pamper me?”

“You should just wake him up to pamper you then,” your advocate nodded at your groom.

“That’s just unfair,” you disagreed, as you reached for a piece of cheese, “I’d hate to be woken up just for someone to demand I make them food they’re capable of making themselves,” you then reached for a walnut, “and it’s not nice to wake someone who is resting.”

The architect knew his junior was giving him a knowing look and turned to return it with an exasperated one of his own.

“Urgh,” he grumbled, “you know I’m not waking you intentionally!”

“Is that so?” Urgh. A breakfast with you would have been delightful, he wished this obstinate roommate of his wasn’t here to ruin it. If only he’d slept in a little more. 

“With how loudly you hammer away at things I was under the impression you were,” what was most annoying about the statement was how innocently he said it, and how calmly he ate afterwards.

“I had a deadline!” He’d apologized for this already! “I didn’t want to disturb your sleep, and I don’t want to work through the night anymore than you do!”

“You should consider negotiating better deadlines then,” this man clearly did not understand what it was like to work with clients, “ones that are inline with your time constraints and abilities.” 

Oh! This! Urgh!

“We could install sound insulation to your shared wall to greatly reduce how much of it you receive,” ah! He’d forgotten you were there for a moment!

It was a good suggestion!

“There are sound insulating materials that don’t trap extra heat, in case you’re concerned about that,” you continued, addressing the impossible scribe with allegedly sensitive ears.

“Wouldn’t the simplest and most cost efficient solution be to just not hammer at night?” What an uncompromising boulder of a man.

You paused, and Kaveh realized you hadn’t considered that as an option. “How regularly are you pulling all-nighters for client work?” Your concern really was the antidote to your insensitive partner’s abrasiveness. 

Of course now he had to answer the question.

“Once a week, or every two weeks, if I’m lucky,” or not. 

A frown really didn’t suit you, “clients are annoying, but-“

“Thank you!” Someone who understood! “They ask for revisions incessantly and can’t figure out what they want.”

“Yes,” you cut in, “which is why the ability to negotiate things in your favor is a skill you need to have,” he felt himself melt at the genuinely concerned look you gave him, “please tell me you at least charge them per revision.”

“Well it depends on the client,” he answered honestly, “and the project. But for the most part, yes,” he paused, “however I am a firm believer in the saying ‘if it’s something worth doing, it’s worth doing it right.’”

Your brow pinching and lips pursing hinted at your response before you said it, “which means there are scenarios where you offer to do work for free?”

You had him there.

“Which is why he is living in this house with me despite all his complaints about it,” how very helpful of his junior to supply an answer on his behalf.

You two had not been close enough for him to burden you with the knowledge of his unideal financial situation. After all he’s only known you for approximately…hmmm…a few months now?

“Kaveh,” your tone was truly tender, truly pained, and truly empathetic.

“As I said, you need to communicate better,” so how did you marry this insensitive rock?

“You really do,” you nodded solemnly in agreement, “while generosity is a good trait -virtue,” you explained, “I feel like you’re being exploited.”

“He is,” your husband did nothing to assuage your concerns, and didn’t even spare him the opportunity to attempt to do so.

“You’re one to talk,” Kaveh scoffed at his annoying landlord with all the distaste he held for him. 

“But I’m not being exploited.”

“No,” the diligent architect stressed, “you’re the one doing the exploiting.”

Kaveh only realized you’d stilled when he caught you moving again in his peripheral; however he wasn’t given much time to consider the implications of that reaction.

“Are you implying I should have let you stay free of charge, indefinitely?”

What a rude insinuation! “Don’t insult me! I have more honor than to accept an arrangement like that!”

“Then I’m not exploiting you.”

“What I was referring to, was the housework,” he stressed, “the disproportionate amount of it that I am made to do.”

Upon detecting rapid movement in his peripheral, the architect turned to see you waving for their attention. You signaled for them to give you a  moment, chewed quickly, swallowed, then raised your hand to hide your mouth, “well you’ll be having an additional set of hands now!”

“That doesn’t solve the original problem though!” He didn’t waste a moment in trying to set you straight. “Now you’re getting exploited as well!”

“But I live here and wish for it to be clean too.”

“That’s not the issue!”

“Then what is the issue?” Somehow the way the scribe asked that was nothing short of provocative.

“The issue is that I do your share too!” Kaveh snapped at his housemate. “You could stand to sweep the common room and put the dishes away!”

“How much of your time goes towards these household chores?” You piped up before the exasperated architect could go on, effectively silencing him as he paused to consider it.

You didn’t wait very long before turning to his opponent, “I get the feeling that if that time could be redirected towards his projects, then he wouldn’t need to pull all-nighters as often.”

“He only has to pull all nighters because he fails to negotiate proper deadlines that take all of his tasks into consideration,” oh this-

“Yes, however, you live with him and are negatively impacted by that,” you responded before Kaveh could begin to voice his affrontedness, “so it would be to your benefit to help him redirect his time towards projects, rather than contribute to his burden while he figures how to negotiate better deadlines.”

“How am I contributing to his burden?” Your spouse directed his frown your way.

You turned to look at the architect who wasted no time in answering the absurd question, “I pick up the books you leave lying around everywhere, not to mention while you do wash your own dishes you seldom clear the drying rack! And I’m the only one who sweeps and dusts!”

“I take care of my quarters and things,” the scribe folded his arms across his chest, “besides this was all part of the initial agreement of having you live with me.”

Kaveh couldn’t lie, he did have him there. The architect shot him a glare grumbling out, “how on Teyvat were you surviving before I came to live here?”

“I abided by a cleaning schedule and hired help occasionally,” the scribe answered without missing a beat.

The silence that ensued after the “Master of the House’s” declaration could be sliced with a sword with how tense it was. It wasn’t until you’d choked on your tea, likely having swallowed wrong, and ducked your head under the table to cough it out after attempting to hold it in that Kaveh remembered you were there.

He rushed to your side, ready to help you through your coughing fit, meanwhile your husband walked away. You were waving about trying to tell him you were fine, and that your tea had indeed gone down the wrong way, when he found his hand that you’d been unable to shake off your back being uncaringly lifted away. When the architect turned to demonstrate his displeasure with the situation he found his frown melting into shock.

Al-Haitham’s hand had replaced his own on your back, while he handed you a cup of water. You took it gratefully as he instructed you to actively breathe in from your nose. Soon you were drowning the last of your coughs with the water the scribe had handed you. “Thank you,” you smiled at the man to your side sheepishly, “sorry for the drama so early in the day.”

“No need for apologies,” the scribe shook his head, straightening as you did.

“Are you alright?” Kaveh regained his senses when the scribe finally moved back to his seat.

Giving your friend a tired smile, you nodded, “yes, thankfully, sorry for the trouble.”

“Don’t apologize! I’m just glad you’re alright!” The architect was quick to assuage your concerns, rising to return to his seat as well.

Thanks to your coughing fit, the tensions in the room were a little lower, however…

“I might have a solution for the cleaning issue,” you announced after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

“Oh?” The scribe raised a brow at you. “What would that be?”

“A redistribution of the household tasks and chores,” you gestured to yourself, “I’d like to contribute without burning myself out, so setting expectations would really help me.”

The man who called himself your husband stared at you over the rim of his coffee cup as he considered it.

“That would also establish a way to measure whether or not someone isn’t contributing enough,” of course that was what this impossible bookworm focused on.

“Well,” you rested your cheek on your palm, your expression pensive, “I’d rather we not be too… clinical? about this?”

“What do you mean?” Al-Haitham leaned forward on the table, eyes trained on you. Though it wasn’t as if he’d stopped scrutinizing you for much more than when he needed to look at his food…or get you that water.

Seems like you hadn’t given him a single thing to comment on though, given he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Living together is about harmony, so,” you looked around between the two men, “given we’re all acquainted here, perhaps we could approach it with more fluidity? More of working as a team to ensure we have a clean living space?”

“So the distribution of tasks would be mostly for setting expectations so everyone can assess their own contributions?” While this seemed like an innocent inquiry, the experienced architect could feel the coming argument. Especially with this brutish bookworm’s record.

“Yes, or well partially,” you explained, “I’ve been told that in relationships there are times when partners have to compensate for one another, and that similarly applies to shared living spaces.”

“So under your proposed system there would be a way for everyone to measure when and how to compensate for other’s?”

“And when someone has been overcompensating for others as well.”

The scribe leaned back in his seat, his hand coming to grip his chin in a contemplative manner. Was he making a show of considering what you’d said? No, the obnoxious scribe would never conceal his opinions like this. However you’d made a reasonable argument, perhaps, was he - no… could it be that Al-Haitham didn’t have an immediate counter argument? Impossible! 

Then what was going on?

“By redistributing the load depending on our own external loads-slash-work we could mitigate the possibility of anyone working into the night and disturbing our sleep schedules,” you continued to push for your proposal.

“Wouldn’t this discourage certain members of the household from learning how to properly negotiate?” The glance that brute sent his way wasn’t subtle.

“On the contrary,” you didn’t let the affronted architect get a word in, “Kaveh’s nature is inherently considerate,” you explained, “with this kind of arrangement he’d feel empowered to negotiate better deadlines to prevent us from compensating for him.”

The considerate man in question stared at you with wonder…and appreciation. How was it that the tables had flipped and he’d gone from being your advocate to you becoming his.

“And by setting expectations, we can make sure that an appropriate amount of time is allocated, without it being excessive,” you continued.

“That sounds like it would be helpful for you,” Al-Haitham nodded at you.

“Very,” you sighed out.

“Very well.”

What?

Had you? 

Had you managed to convince Al-Haitham of something? That was possible? Or was it a unique skill only you had? Either way, Kaveh would only be conversing with Al-Haitham in your presence from now on.

The scribe, true to his title, went to his room and collected paper and a writing instrument so as to inscribe your agreement. The discussion went well enough, though it was long enough for him to fight you when you went to grab yourself some fruits. Of course it wouldn’t have taken so long had Al-Haitham been more cooperative. The way you’d regularly had to intervene to prevent the men from fighting one another was not lost on Kaveh. Neither was the way you’d looked rather exhausted by the end of it.

“I’m so glad we’re setting out tomorrow,” you huffed as you stretched now that all the tasks were accounted for and distributed.

“Oh? For your honeymoon?” The architect inquired, collecting the dishes before you could.

“Yeah!” You chirped, grabbing other dishes that were farther away from him.

He hadn’t realized he hadn’t actually expected his culturally unaware junior to actually conform to the custom. The news came as a pleasant surprise. It was good that he was though! “Where are you going?”

“Al-Haitham’s taking me out to check out some desert ruins!” You practically bounced, stars dancing in your eyes. “My budget’s been rather tight lately and mercenaries are often expensive to hire, so he’ll be taking me instead!”

He should have seen this coming. A honeymoon? This was a scholarly expedition! There was nothing romantic about it! Then again there was nothing romantic about the bullheaded man you’d married!

Yet you seemed so excited.

How fortunate for the impossibly logical scholar. Yes, how fortunate he had acquired a wife so…so…easy to please? Easy going? So accommodating, so lenient?

“Was there not anywhere else you’d have liked to go?” The architect casually made his way to the sink, claiming it before you could. “I hear Mondstadt is rather romantic and nice for honeymoons.”

“Interesting as Mondstadt is,” you shook your head, “I’m not particularly fond of wine, so I’d much rather a trip to Liyue or somewhere in our own land or maybe even Inazuma!” You perked up. “I heard their borders have opened again recently! There’s so much history there too!”

Ah. You really were a scholar of Sumeru. Even in marriage you were attempting to do research.

“We could visit Inazuma and Liyue at a later time,” the scribe commented from where he was wiping the table.

“I suppose that would be nice,” Kaveh couldn’t help but find your tone less excited than he would have expected, taking on that wistful characteristic he was observing from you quite a bit.

Of course, he wasn’t afforded the time to formulate his concern into an inquiry as Al-Haitham heralded you out of the kitchen, and back to the living area.

“But Kaveh hasn’t finished with the dishes yet,” you’d debated, “I’d hate to leave him alone.”

“We’re not leaving him alone,” the scholar responded calmly, “we’ll simply be providing him with more space to comfortably maneuver.”

You didn’t seem convinced, as you turned to him, your eyes already making the inquiry without you making a sound.

“As I said, you’re supposed to be pampered,” he smiled at you, “loathe as I am to let this guy have you, it’s better than you standing here and finding something to do.”

You pursed your lips and gave him a glare that was too amused to have any real bite to it before you startled slightly at the large hand that had found purchase on your wrist. Kaveh watched as you allowed yourself to be led away by the unaffected scribe. He followed your movement until the scribe had you sat beside him. Your conversation was rather quiet however to his surprise he could hear Al-Haitham inquiring as to how you slept. That was rather hospitable of him.

Kaveh didn’t take long to finish up, however, the two of you didn’t converse for long. It was just as he was rejoining the two of you that he noticed either one of you heading to your respective rooms. Clearly to prepare for your upcoming expedition to-

Hold that thought! You were sleeping in separate rooms?! Notes:

*dabka: a traditional type of dance native to Lebanon, Palestine, Syria, and Jordan (the Levant) that usually involves more than one individual with the most skilled individual being at the beginning of the train with more people joining in to their side. Disclaimer: If a wedding had all the things I listed here involved, I wouldn't attend, however I felt a Levant style wedding would be the most fun to write. It's also the one I'm familiar with. Part of the struggle was the fear that I was promoting this kind of wedding: I'm not.

[genji-centric]

hi!! can i ask for venture sfw alphabet? and if it isn’t too much, junker queen sfw and nsfw alphabet in the future? thank you! <3

Of course!!! I know Tumblr goes absolutely wild for any Venture content (for good reason) hope you enjoy the sfw Venture alphabet and the soon to be Junker Queen alphabets ill write in the future ^^

Venture SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Venture is a chatty person, often complimenting you or jokingly flirting with you whenever. PDA isn't overwhelming, but don't be shocked to find them kissing your cheek in front of colleges. They just love you so much. Why stop if people are around? Expect lots of compliments and hugs from them. A kiss on the cheek is a must and the softest smile whenever you look at them. Sloan loves you, and affection is always a given when you're around.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You and Sloan, when first starting as friends, quickly developed into one of those friendships you know will last forever. They have this quirky way of life that draws you in, the best friend everyone needs. They're the type of friend to always have your back. They will listen to any silly thought or interest as long as you hear them out about archeology. Being friends with Venture means never being alone. They might not have advice for everything, but they will definitely stand up for you when you need them to. Friendship with them is easy, compliment a shirt they wear and soon you two will be hanging out 3 hours later and you have a new friend.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yes. They love to cuddle. So. Much. They love to wrap an arm around you as you two watch a movie together, kissing your forehead and playing with your hair. Sleeping in the same bed means you will be cuddled. They will happily be the big spoon all the time if you let them. They love how warm you can be, Sloan is also a heater themselves, so prepare to not need a blanket for the most part.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Sloan still has many things they want to see, settling down isn't in their cards yet but maybe once they've seen many things and participated in society changing digs they'll consider tuning travels down a bit. But in general, Venture would want you to join them on digs. They love having you by their side, and if you can join them in exploring the world, they would be in heaven. When it comes to cooking, they are.. questionable at best. They will definitely learn if you teach them, cook together, and you have one of the best dates.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Venture really couldn't, they love you so much it would take a lot for it to reach that point. If it does, Venture would be withdrawing more. They'd go to sites alone and a lot more frequently, leaving you alone. It hurts them to be around you, and as they withdraw more, they're trying to stop all those happy memories from coming back to them. If it stays like that long enough with no word from either of you, then Sloan would have to break it off through text when they're in a different country.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Venture likes the thought of marriage. It makes you both bonded together more, and they just love that. They will happily commit to you, join them on their adventures, and live your life going place to place, and that is the perfect thing for them. When you get engaged, Venture is always saying, "and this is my fiancé, y/n." With this goofy smile on their face, and so help me when you get married everyone knows you two are with how much Sloan boasts about it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Sloan knows they are a strong person, carrying around that drill adds to a lot of strength in their arms and everything in general. They tend to handle you with care, much like a precious attifact they are gentle when they hold you or carry you in their arms (unless they get really excited to see you then expect a death grip hug.) When it comes to emotions Sloan is gentle in every way, they love and care for tou so of course they will reat you with care.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Sloan gives the best hugs it's insane, each one makes you feel loved and cherished and all warm inside. Sloan leaps at every opportunity they can to hug you, after a long day? Hug. Something exciting like a promotion? Hug. You just being you? A hug that leaves you warm and fuzzy. Their hugs are always all encompassing, often they will pick you up mid hug and swing you a little bit. They just love you so much they can't help it!

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

All the time, Venture loves saying it to someone they care about. They say it all the time to you, expect every text conversation to have 'I love you' in it somewhere. Sloan definitely said it first, and when they do, they mean it. Sloan fell first and harder. You are their first love, and they cherish that fact.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Sloan doesn't get jealous.. that's what they tell themselves when you're talking to someone whose eyes are lingering for far too long. They try to keep their jealousy to themselves, but sometimes they can't handle it. When someone is rubbing them the wrong way enough, they'll happily swing by, wrap an arm around you while giving the person the biggest grin they can muster. Hell, if that doesn't work, they will happily give you a peck on the cheek while calling you sickly sweet nicknames.

Venture can be a little sloppy when it comes to kissing. They just get so excited to kiss you that they'll miss where they're aiming. It's funny and charming, just like your Sloan. They really enjoy cheek kisses, it's cute and lighthearted. If you kiss their cheek, Venture is melting with a soft blush on their face.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Sloan is so cool to children. They can mention all the cool and exciting facts about history, and they have the silly vibe children just love. It's not uncommon to see Venture cheering up a crying kid in public. They are a natural at it, it seems. If you ask, you'll learn that Sloan was a babysitter when they were growing up, and they're still amazing at it. If you two ever have kids of your own, expect them to have the coolest rock eating parent.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Venture is a morning person, but not a proper one because they wake up messy. Hair everywhere and eye crust, they drool in their sleep and overall not a pleasant sight. It's absolutely hilarious, though. Once they're tidied up, they make themselves a cup of coffee and often flip through whatever article they're reading. Maybe tidy the artifacts in their personal collection and just enjoy some quiet time before the day starts. If you join them, you'll both talk about your plans for the day, possibly even the future. If you aren't a morning person, expect a kiss on the forehead before they are on with the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Venture, once everything is wrapped up for the day, is very relaxed. They will happily join you on the couch as they read, and you do whatever hobby you enjoy. Night walks are a favorite for them. The streets look pretty at night, and they enjoy it. If you want to watch a movie, they're down, maybe watch a documentary of their choosing, and you have a very happy Sloan on your hands. You definitely got to, documentaries are their favorite thing ever.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Sloan is an open book. They're absolutely horrible with secrets. Let them talk, and soon you know everything about them. They love talking, and if you let them ramble soon, you know their embarrassing story when they were 5 after meeting them an hour ago.

I don't think Venture could have. Single mean thought about you, hell anything you do has them watching with heart eyes. But when someone disrespects you or archeology, that's when Sloan gets mad, and even then, that anger is more yelling at them and calling them names.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Sloan remembers absolutely everything. Including the small details, they remember what you like to order at restaurants to the specific brand of salt you like to get. Sloan already built up the abilities to remember historical facts. Someone as important as you is the most important thing to learn everything about in their eyes.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The time Sloan brought you out to your first dig with them. There you saw a new side of them you didn't see before. Venture showed you all the sights, what each tool does, and the crew they were currently working with. You learned the history of the sight, myths, and legends around the area in so on. You saw Sloan when they were passionate, excited to learn, and very attentive to you. During the breaks, Sloan would take you into the nearby town and enjoy street foods with you. The first site you saw was with them, and the first of many you would attend with them.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Sloan always has your back. They're strong and an Overwatch agent. They're always confident you're safe with them. Venture is protective of you. They treasure you, so of course they'll always watch out for you. Always warning you if they see a dangerous thing nearby or a possibly dangerous person. They themselves don't really need protection. But let them know of possible issues such as a spill or a broken cup in the ground they're appreciative of it.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Sloan loves to plan things out. Always keeping track of dates and what could be a good activity for you both to do. They always put as much effort as they can, Venture happily makes handmade gifts for you and always plans things. Just don't get mad at them if they get days off. They can be a little forgetful about time, but they always make it up to you on the rare occasions mistakes happen.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Sloan leaves dirt everywhere. Sand gets stuck in their hair and mud caked to their clothes. They also forget to take off their shoes sometimes. Dirt gets tracked into the house constantly. They also forget to tidy up after themselves sometimes, like a forgotten plate from supper or a spill they forgot to wipe fully. Also totally the type to use their sleeve instead of on a cloth to wipe something up. Venture also is out a lot of the time. Working for Overwatch is busy, and adding working on different digs takes up a lot of time.

Venture isn't really too concerned in their appearance. They can enjoy a bit of fun with experimenting with eyeliner, but that's really as far as they go. They don't do it to look pretty but rather for the fact it looks cool, much like their tattoos. Sloan doesn't really care for their appearance in general, often having dirt caked to their jacket and buts of gravel falling out of their tangled hair. Looks don't mean the world to them. They enjoy looking at you, but they could care less about what they look like.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. Before you Sloan thought they were content, that gap they felt was just wanting more knowledge, right? Not really. Once they met you and everything you made them feel they realized you were the thing they missed. With you, Sloan now wants a future with you by their side. They can never go back.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

100% brings you the random things that makes you question them. Yeah, Sloan can be amazing at gift giving, remembering what you like and what you want to get. But they also can bring back the goofiest figure that looks horrible, maybe a cursed doll for you who knows. Sloan likes your smile, and if that means bringing back a funny painting someone did so be it.

Someone who won't listen to them. They've often been shut down about their more out there personality and not as common interests they just need people around them who will listen. They also don't really like mean people. If everything you say is negative, it will start to wear them down with thoughts of 'do they think of me like that?'

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Venture surprisingly is a good sleeper, they often go to bed around 10 and sleep soundly through the night. They seem like a dream, that is until you're beside them. Sloan SNORES. You think you've heard snoring, but they take it to another level. If you get them to roll over, they somehow are still snoring it's crazy. They're apologetic, though, and for your sake, they try different snoring aids. It might work, might not.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "causing" someone's ED? (massive TW obviously)

so i (18x) have a pr0ana sideblog. i say this in the LOOSEST sense of the term; while i interact with pr0ana tags and content, i don't make any myself, and my "platform" is nonexistent. i primarily use the blog as a way to feel less alone since i can't talk about my ED in real life. it's a vent blog. i don't have the name of my sideblog anywhere on my main blog, and vice versa.

a few weeks ago, my good friend (18x) found this sideblog and decided not to tell me. over the next few weeks, we had several conversations about my ED and their dysmorphia (though according to them not a full-fledged ED), all started by them. at one point i promised them that i would try to get just a little better every day, and i do! i do try that constantly! but about ten minutes after saying that i posted something on my sideblog about how paranoid i was about calories or whatever, because yeah i'm trying to get better, but that doesn't mean i magically stop struggling. i also told them i was NOT on pr0ana tumblr or interacting with that sort of content, because i wasn't comfortable sharing that about myself. i didn't know my friend knew about the sideblog at this point.

they dmed me a while after this post to ask why i had lied to their face, or as they put it in a vaguepost on their blog, "made a promise and then turned around and immediately broken it." i got very very frustrated, since i think what i do on the internet is my business, as is my mental health. this definitely reflected in my tone, so i think i was definitely TA, at least initially.

during this conversation, though, they basically said that i needed to talk to them about my emotions and stop hiding them, and that i had to take the hand they were extending. here's where the main problem started. they then said that they considered contacting my mother or friends but decided in the long run it wouldn't be beneficial. my mother is emotionally abusive, which this friend knew, and would absolutely involuntarily hospitalize me if contacted about my ED.

i became extremely angry, both that my friend would have my mother's and friends' contact information in the first place (we met through tumblr and have only met in person ONCE -- i do not, clearly, have their parents' contact information or even their names, and this was not information i volunteered to them) and that they would use it as an ultimatum. at this point i became extremely furious and basically told them to leave me alone because no one who genuinely cared about me would do that, and i didn't understand why my mental illness was seen as something i HAD to overcome if i wanted to avoid getting literally hospitalized by my mother. at this point they told me that i was refusing to accept help and that i was "aestheticizing killing myself." they then blocked me. i was still fucking angry. i never blocked them from my main, but i did block all their accounts from my sideblog and change the url.

they later unblocked me and we tried to remain civil. we never stopped interacting with each other's posts or whatever. they initiated contact a few times, which i ignored. the first instance they initiated contact was sending me a poem they'd written about the situation, which made me feel like shit, and the second time was just saying "hey." i didn't respond either time because i didn't know how.

i saw a vaguepost that they made on their blog yesterday that basically said they were fucking angry that, after an entire lifetime of struggling to avoid developing an ED, the "person they used to be in love with" was the reason they were developing one. it was clearly about me and i felt a rush of shame so overwhelming that i didn't really know what to do with it. i dmed them to tell them that i loved them and i was sorry, that i didn't mean to hurt them, and that i didn't want things to end like they did. reading back over the message now, it feels very "woe is me" (i was crying while writing it), but basically it just involved me apologizing a million times.

i woke up this morning to their response, which was: "are you saying this because you miss me or because you don't have anyone else left? i don't want to be your last choice." i hadn't gone into the conversation with the intention of regaining their close friendship because, frankly, i don't want that. i hadn't gone into it with a goal in mind. a problem i've had with this friend in the past is that they seem to view a lot of interactions and relationships as almost transactional in a way that i don't (demonstrated by their insistence that i had to talk them about my mental health in the first place). i told them this, and told them i just wanted to apologize and that i loved them. they said that they were sorry, too, but that the timing made them "suspicious," i assume because they know i've been extremely depressed and lonely lately (i just moved to college without any of my best friends and have been making vent posts about it on my main personal blog).

i know it wasn't the intention, but it made me feel like they were using my mental illness against me yet AGAIN, and i stopped apologizing. as i'm typing this i'm trying to decide whether to block them. but i feel like shit about the whole thing, because i was responsible for the formation of their ED, and i feel like i should be able to handle whatever anger they have towards me for that without getting my feelings hurt and being petty. i don't know. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[skazoo]

slow and blue and endless.

↳ kim taehyung x f!reader

someone stared at you through the window. you had always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. but a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily.

length. 1.7k

genre. angst, yandere

warnings/tags. language, obsessive behavior, implied stalking, yandere themes, mind break, emotional manipulation, love bombing(?), mention of mental illnesses, physical violence, kinda gruesome allusion to murder, dark themes overall, minors advised to dni.

networks. none for this.

notes. [THIS IS A REPOST BC TUMBLR TAGS WON'T WORK AND I ALMOST CRIED<;3]

GAH these photos are so 80s serial killer making a creepy videotape that's gonna get edited in a true crime documentary coded...... i know you're seeing my vision, i KNOW it.... anywayyyyyy this is kinda not proofread, and i wrote it while i was supposed to be studying for my exams a while back!! because when am i inspired if not when i shouldn't be?? i hope you like it and i swear something is almost ready for me to publish please wait a little longer (for my engenes and atiny besties)

⚠️ it goes without saying that i in no way condone any obsessive/stalking/creepy/violent behavior and despite this being "x reader" i'm not in any way romanticizing anything i'm writing. also this, as you all know, is fiction and names are merely a narrating mean. ⚠️

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

in a way you’ve always loved him. he knows. you don’t even have to say it out loud for him to be happy. 

but sometimes it feels like you take him for granted. sometimes you make him really, really angry and that, he can’t let pass. and it's not for his sake but for yours. always everything for you. he has to make you understand that there are things you can’t do if you want to stay safe from the outside world. safe from him, sometimes.

running away is one of those ugly, wretched things you know well he hates, and he slams you against the wall and drags you back through the front door into the house by your hair, he bashes your head on the kitchen counter, near the fire of the stove he’s been preparing lunch with to make you understand a concept you're apparently too dumb to grasp.

“what the fuck did i tell you about running, uh?” seething with undiluted rage .

“i just wanted to go outside, tae. i swear!”

“i said what the fuck did i tell you about running!? do you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?!” his voice booms inside the walls of your head, an endless echo that makes bitter tears gather at the back of your eyes and spill over.

your face is burning. tongues of fire lick at your cheeks, a scorching caress that reminds you of taehyung's. his palm always leaves a brand behind, reminding him and yourself that he’s there. 

your hands scramble for his in a miserable attempt to lessen his hold. “i’m sorry, tae! so sorry, please! please!”

his closed fist in your hair pushes your head closer to the heat. “i’ll fucking kill you if i have to, you know that right–” it’s not a question, merely a promise, but you nod anyway, frantically, desperately– “they’ll never stop finding your body, baby. do you understand?” he screams and shakes you with his hands tight in your hair when you only cry in response.

“i said,” leaning in, mouth brushing over your ear. chills go down your back as his voice turns sickeningly mellow as if he’s whispering sweet nothings instead of threats, “do you understand?”

“yes! yes! god, yes i understand! tae, i’m so sorry! it’s all my fault! it’s all my fault!”

your mindless babbles seem to humor him and he moves your head at a safer distance. “and why is that?”

“ ‘twas my fault! i put myself in danger if i run. tae, please! i’m so sorry!” 

and you cry and cry and cry until you have nothing to give. until there’s only emptiness in your head that’s resting on his shoulder. until his shushes really feel reassuring. until he sits you down at the table to eat the lunch he prepared, the one that was so close to killing you. you nibble on it, too weak to really even taste the flavors.

he breaks the empty silence between you with a question. you startle at the sound of his voice and force your heavy eyes to focus on him.

“aren't you curious? about why i chose you?”

“no.”

he scrunches his eyebrows and regards you with a slightly displeased look that has you shrinking back on your chair. 

“but i want to tell you…” he whines.

you don’t say anything about his antics. despite him behaving like a child you’re terrified of what his reaction would be if you actually treated him like one, so you press your lips together and wait. 

“i like people that like me.” and it’s so simple how he says it. obvious, even.

“but why do you think i like you?” quietly, meekly.

he seems to like the question, his boxy smile one full of teeth that in other circumstances you would have found endearing. now it only makes him look like a predator, an animal, drool dribbling down his fangs, jaw ready to snap close around your neck if —and ultimately, when— you say or do the wrong thing. 

“oh, i was so happy, Y/N,” he coos, your name curling in his mouth with ease, as if you’re always been around each other, as if it belongs there, “that when i chose you, you came with me.”

your mouth gapes open at the absurdity of it all. you wonder if he really thinks that you wanted all of this, that you wanted to be taken from your home. you’d ask your old psychology professor if you’d be correct to label him as a narcissist of sorts. a man with too much power, and free time, and loneliness to exhaust all on himself that he had to go around looking for a scapegoat for his secret misery.  

“i didn’t– i didn’t come to you, taehyung. i didn’t have a choice.”

“so you were almost forced to come?”

“no,” it comes out more as a question than an answer and you lower your head in search of a way to rationalize the conversation at hand, “i was completely forced–”

“that’s what you tell yourself,” he retorts before you can even finish your sentence.

“it’s what i know is true,” you spit somewhat offended by his insinuation.  

his smile is a sick thing when you raise your head from the food on your plate —cold and uninviting. the smell alone makes you want to throw up. 

“are you sure?”

your anger leaves space for an unnerving sense of confusion. “what does that– what?”

your frown deepens as you watch him play around with his lunch. you follow his hands pushing back his glasses on his nose. the sick look of complacency that dances on his face seems to speak words that make the hairs at the back of your neck raise in dreadful anticipation. i know something about you that you don’t, his eyes say, and that alone is enough to make you want to scream.

he knows nothing!, you’d be shouting to the usually calm neighborhood, i haven’t told him anything about myself. he can’t know anything! he knows nothing! he knows nothing! you’d holler to the kids walking home from school hand in hand with their mothers who’d be looking at you with contempt, unaware of who lives among them. a wolf in sheep's clothing that could easily make you look like a psychopath. 

you’d do it, you swear to yourself that you’d do it all if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve got the inkling fear that you’ve truly gone mad. the doubt that crawls on your back and makes its way in your ears, slithering then, with much glee into your delusional brain.

how long have you been in this house? his house or the one you bought together once you finished college? did you meet him on a slow rainy day outside a coffee shop or did you catch him staring at you from the window before he broke in and took you from your bed, leaving behind torn sheets and a broken frame with a picture of your friends? does your mind deceive you? are you sane? is he?

it feels like you've had this exact same conversation with him an infinite number of times, always stuck in a loop of unease and sadness that you really can’t explain. loving looks sent your way melt into scary grimaces sometimes and all you can feel is guilt because that’s tae. your tae. the man you chose, the man that chose you.

you realize your vacant eyes are crying when you feel a thumb swipe your cheek with a gentleness that makes your stomach churn in disgust and again a voice tells you that there’s something wrong with you.

“baby, are you alright?”

the way you look at him does nothing to the sick warmth brewing in his stomach. your shiny little doe eyes peeking up at him from under wet lashes, asking for forgiveness that taehyung would never deny you. nose red from the frustration of being lost in your own mind and mouth parted as if to ask him to show you the way, the truth that you seem to have lost.

he stands up and rounds the table to you for you to bury your head in his chest. sobs shake your tired form.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i swear everything it’s okay. it happens to forget.”

“i’m sorry, tae,” you plead through broken breaths. “i’m so sorry, please.”

he shushes you. lips plant themselves in the crown of your head, a hand rubs at your back soothingly.  

later, in the late evening, you lie in your bed. a bed. the sheets smell of him and the air you breathe does not feel like the one you're used to, but you’re calm. you think you are. maybe.

soft snores sound from behind you and you attempt to turn your head to make sure it’s him. 

“tae?” you let out a whisper. not one that expects itself to be heard.

“yeah?” voice hoarse from sleep.

“nothing.”

he buries his nose in the hair at the nape of your neck, inhaling the shampoo he bought for you. “what?”

“just wanted to make sure you were still here.”

“i’m always here, baby.”

you hum.

minutes pass slowly, like molasses, as if the hand of the seconds inside the alarm on your nightstand is fighting an invisible force, a wall of rubber that threatens to bounce time back. you think he’s fallen back asleep. breath slowing, chest heaving, lulling you to slumber.

you close your eyes. “tae?”

he doesn’t answer. a car alarm sounds from outside the closed curtains, its prolonged blaring bringing a certain agitation in your otherwise silent night. a breath of summer wind leaves bumps on your skin in its wake. you sigh and his arms tighten around your torso. an unconscious gesture, soft, loving.

“i dream of you–” you let your words sink into the air, into the boiling water you carry around in your lungs that doesn’t let you breathe properly, and you shiver again but not from the chill bite of the wind “–and it’s slow, and blue, and endless.”

behind you, taehyung’s mouth stretches into a smile.

in a way, you’ve always loved him. he’s certain of it now as he was before. and even if you didn’t, he will always make sure to make it a reality, one way or the other. wether you want it or not.

taglist: @taevestr @fa1ryjoons @vcutvante

[anangelinthepit]

Bruise My Bones but Leave my Heart Alone

(Sorry loves it’s a short chapter I promise it will pick back up soon) Trigger warning ⚠️ death and mental illness. Please be advised. As always with love Magenta

@reyadawn @bloodylullaby @fadingintothegrey @supersquirrel1996 @dreamstyles @hurricanesfollowyou @thisbicc @chey-h

Part 7

Y/N’s POV

“I get why he's doing this. Jolly, but you guys don't understand. If Noah kills Jason, something way worse is going to come after me and the rest of you. You need to take me back now.” I said, pleading

“Y/N I promise you, Jason is just a punk, and whatever comes our way, it isn't anything we can't handle,” Jolly said while driving. It's almost like they didn't even hear what I said.

“You’re not listening to me, Jason is more than just some punk ass kid who beats on women.” Putting my hands over my face in frustration.

“What? Is he in the mafia or something?” Nick said with a chuckle. They both looked back at me trying to get some reassurance on my face about the joke they just made. I couldn't make eye contact though because they were practically right. The next thing I knew, Jolly slammed on the brakes and asked me sternly.

“Y/N. Please tell me we didn't leave Noah behind to deal with somebody in the mafia.”

“What the fuck? No, he is not in the mafia. What do you think this is? Some story on freaking Tumblr?” I said, rolling my eyes. They waited for me to spill everything, and with hesitation, I did.

“He is a drug dealer, and as much as I hate to admit it, he is very good at what he does. Created a lot of connections throughout his time. I was never involved, but I witnessed him create a lot of loyal followers. That whole thing about me being free wasn't gonna last long. They would have raided my house and used me as collateral.

“Collateral?” Jolly said

“Jason made a lot of money but didn't pay back those who got him where he is now. Killing him would have been a favor, but a debt would still need to be paid.” I said with tears, filling my eyes. The memories started to come back. Jason is betting my life with a bunch of drug dealers. Promising them if he didn't make good on his end of the deal, they could have me.

“Why wait? Let me get some of her now”

“Yeah, she's too cute to pass up.”

I can still smell the alcohol and cigarettes on their breath. “You guys need to take me back now. I'll take the fault and repercussions, but we need to go. Now.” I said begging. Jolly turned the car around and was speeding back to the venue. By the time we got there, it was almost pitch black. I could see silhouettes standing around a person on the ground. Boy, this scene looked familiar. I threw the door open and ran out of the car

“Baby! Please don't !” I shouted

“Y/N what are you doing here? You need to get out of here. I don't want you to see this.” Noah said with a stern voice. I looked down and made eye contact with Jason. My knees almost gave out because I was looking at what you would call a “dead man walking”. Jason smiled at me and was about to speak when Noah pistol-whipped him. His eyes were locked and ready to take him the fuck out. I grabbed Noah's arm, trying to bring him back down to earth. “Baby look at me,” I said, trying to grab his face. “I'll tell you everything you need to know, no more secrets. Just please put the gun down and walk away. There is so much you need to know before you make this decision. Please my love, you made your point. Let him go and just... Just take me home.” I said looking into his eyes with tears.

I saw the murderous rage that once filled his eyes fade away, now being replaced by the beautiful shade of dark autumn leaves that I had fallen in love with. Noah kissed me on the cheek and reminded me of his promise. Within that moment, the world stopped spinning as Noah pulled the trigger officially ending Jason’s life. Little did he know, he just ended mine right along with his. I screamed at the sound of the gunshot hitting Jason’s head. I could hear Jolly and Nick frantically explaining everything to Noah. When I looked up, all the sound around me disappeared. All I could focus on was the dead body laying in front of me and how, in a few hours, I was going to be next to him or worse. “Why is the sky getting bigger?” I said to myself. Wanting to stand up to confront Noah, I took one step and passed the fuck out.

Noah’s POV

“Son of a Bitch

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I love you all ❤️

[kaahgyuya]

Wanderer/Scaramouche fluff HCs

Literally just fluff headcanons of my fav bbg scaramoochie

☆ PLEASE FORGIVE ME THAT I HAVENT BEEN POSTING ON TUMBLR LATELY IVE BEEN REALLY BUSY WITH STUFF ONLINE AND IN REAL LIFE I PROMISE ILL POST PROBABLY TWICE OR ONCE A MONTH IF I HAVE ENERGY 🫶

TW: blood

You would sometimes go out adventuring, and when you would come back hurt or any injuries, or just the smallest one. Scara scoffs you off, but then he comes right back taking care of your wounds. In secret when you were gone, he'd always pray that you were safe and would come back with no injuries, even the smallest one you can imagine.

Scara would hug you for the longest time ever so that you can't leave. You would always pester him, but he would always hug you by the waist so you couldn't go. He would always put his head on your shoulder and just embrace your warmth.

One day, you went off adventuring, and you were gone for far longer than Scara had anticipated. When you were back, you were heavily injured. You had blood on your face, your hands were covered in your dirty blood, and badly wrapped bandages. He immediately engulfed you into a hug. Scara then gave you good lecture and took care of your wounds. After that day, when you would go adventuring, he would secretly follow behind you so you wouldn't get hurt again.

Scara has a gigantic soft spot for you. He tries to hide it but he's so bad, it's so cute. He always wants to hold your face and he just looks at you, inspecting every detail of your face. He just fights the urge to kiss you, so Scara just blushes really intensly. He then let's go of your face and hides his own because he knew he was blushing.

Scara is the one to get jealous, very easily. You would sometimes go out and talk your friends. (Ex: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Nilou, Dehya, etc etc) he would just stare at the person in slight digust thinking; 'Why are they hanging out with them? I'm right here they could talk to me.' And when you guys get home, he immediately suffocates you in a hug.

Scara would always image him kissing you, or you kissing him, but he would always get too flustered and say to himself, "Love? Tch, weak. I can never imagine it." But whenever he sees you, he always feels so warm and happy.

You were always the clumsy one whenever you were around Scara. So when he realized that, he asked Nahida to put on tape on some of the books to stay attached to the bookshelves so they wouldn't fall on your head. Or he would put some of the tape on the table and kitchen appliances so you wouldn't break them and get hurt as well.

Scara has abandonment issues. So he always overthinks whenever you go out to do something, even if it's small, he's afraid of waiting to just not see you again. But whenever you come back, he always wants a hug from you.

whenever you would take naps around the house, Scara would watch you sleep to just make sure you weren't having any bad dreams. If he were noticing that you were crying or having a bad dream, Scara would wake you up. And or if a strand of hair got in your face, he would brush it away and watch you peacefully. And once you wake up, Scara calls you a weakling for taking naps /j

Scara doesn't know how to say I love you. He always chickens away whenever he says it and he always dies in embarrassment. But he'll always try and say it to you because in his heart, you are everything to him.

Scara just loves kissing you! He just loves giving you kisses all over your face. You are the most cherished person in his eyes, and if you're talking to him, he'll all of a sudden just kiss you.

"And so this happened..."

"Shut up." Scara said.

"Make me." You replied.

He just grabs your chin and kisses you. If he wants, probably for a long time. And once you pull away, he just wants more but doesn't know how to say it.

Sometimes, you forget to eat breakfast or lunch, and if you do, Scara immediately comes to you with your favorite food and stuffs your mouth with it. It doesn't matter if you're still chewing it. He'll just hold out a spoon to feed you. It's funny because he does this in a straight blank face, half of the time he's scolding you because you forgot to eat.

Whenever Scara is gonna go out somewhere, and you're still sleeping, he'll grab the blanket and cover your face while you're sleeping so he doesn't disturb you. And once he's done, he removes the blanket from your face and turns off the light so you can go back to sleep.

Scara, whenever he is locked up in his room, you always check up on him. He either crying or he has puffy eyes. And whenever you comfort him and leave the room, he tries to break the urge to pull you back into the room so you can't leave him.

@xyouami 7/19/23 10:35 pm

[darkwitchingflower]

ITS BEEN A WHILE but here's things me and my friends have said as pjo character pt 4/5???

Annabeth: That's not very feminism of you (@wraith--2)

Hestia: maybe build like a life size bread bloke (@carpcranium)

Leo: Feels like my toes are bleeding but it's just cause they're defrosting (@wraith--2)

Percy to annabeth: Nooo pookie don't leave ill get her a spider abortion (friend not on tumblr)

Annabeth: I thought I'd die before seeing common sense in this gc (friend not on tumblr)

Jason: It's not boring to want money and to not be even more mentally ill (@indecisivenb)

Leo: Sure bud (me)

Piper: Jesus was not straight (@wraith--2)

Some random camper in the dining pavillion: Hes staring into my soup (@wraith--2)

Leo: Everyone needs a piece of Leo (friend not on gc)

Leo: Me dehydrated: must not drink sex juice (@wraith--2)

Jason: Me and Percy cockfight like 3 times (@chefchennan)

Piper: Harry x hermione

Ron x jesus or smth

Luna x whoever tf she ended with? (Friend not on tumblr)

Mr D to someone being given a quest: You don't have a choice

They don't have a choice

It's equality all around (me)

Piper: Im not a people pleaser, im a woman pleaser (friend not on tumblr)

Jason (idk why but i instantly thought Jason): saggy balls? (@chefchennan)

Thalia: From your local asexual xx (@wraith--2)

Thalia: Homicide on Pinterest is an interest (@wraith--2)

Chiron: oh that's nice to see! A camper with a smile! (My criminology teacher)

Annabeth: ye I made percy smile by telling him I didn't like him in greek! (Friend not on tumblr)

Apollo: Will! Thoughts on be crime do gay?! (@carpcranium)

Thalia about Frank: Me and him are still friends we shoot kids together yesterday (@chefchennan)

Will doing some form of doctor test idk: I'm gonna skedaddle into your scrotum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: I f**king love garlic bread yummers. Its gotten so bad that I eat is everyday. I sweat garlic butter and shit out logs of bread. It's an endless cycle and I remake the garlic break with what I unleash (friend not on tumblr)

Percy to Annabeth (leo helped after frank found them in the stables): Thine eyes are blessed with the sight of her. Her.

Who I wake to every morning and think of

Who I dream of at night

Aphrodite has forsaken me yet she is my light

The waves will roar and crash

And I know, she is always up for a smash (@wraith--2)

Leo to literally any girl with a pulse: When I see her thoughts are gone

And all I can do is simply long

She could never be mine

Yet still I pine (@wraith--2)

Rachel thinking abiut percy: Days will pass and the sun shall set

All the while I'd place a bet

That I'm still there

Twirling my hair

Dreaming of something that was never fair (@wraith--2)

Thalia: is is the most fun I've had in ages, I'm trying to teach the bot aromanticisum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: As a matter of fact I am definitely aromantic but thanks for the suggestion (@wraith--2)

Leo, he meant to say floppy disks: Have you ever seen one of those floppy dicks-...🤏 (friend not in tumblr)

Mr D: Anyways orgies (@wraith--2)

Will to Nico: She's like nah, no love hearts have an onion were like Shrek now (me)

Percy: When I go to sleep I'm going to dream about gay sea creatures aren't I? (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: It's okay I'm a big girl I cry into my pillow (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: ohhh right in the trust issues (@thatonelazyghost)

[the-record]

mine…

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

synopsis: abby’s new to town and you just have to show her around…

pairing: college!abby x reader

warnings: none me thinks

a/n: hi so another smau type bc yall LOVED the last one. im sorry ab not finishing the series, tumblr isn’t the best to write on its been majorly glitchy for me and it would’ve taken me 20 hours to write those

my masterlist

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

you were in college, working part time waiting tables left a small town, never looked back i was a flight risk with a fear of falling wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts

“hi, im abby, ill be your server today, can i get you started with some drinks?”

you looked from your friend as your server arrived, seeing a tall blonde girl you’d yet to see here.

“hi, you’re new.” you smiled sweetly before answering. “ill just take a water,” she nodded before looking to ellie. she ordered a coke and abby left with a nod. “shes cute.”

“not my type.” you rolled your eyes at her, leaning back into the booth. “i know, im not stupid, you meant for you.”

you looked over to see if she was near, findinf her not to be, before turning back to ellie. “where do you think shes been hiding all this time, i’ve literally never seen her here before?”

“a water and a coke.” the drinks were placed on your table along with two straws. “are you ready, or would you like some time to look over the menu.”

you shook your head as you unwrapped your straw. “no, we’re all good.” you and ellie both ordered, but before abby left you stopped her. “wait, where are you from? you new?”

she nodded, stepping into a more comfortable position infront of your table. “yea, actually, just moved last week. im from jackson, small town about an hour from here.” you hummed.

“interesting, so you’re here for college then?” ellie kicked you and you scoffed, shaking your head at her. “just trying to get to know the pretty lady a bit, chill.” abby blushed and you smiled. “so, college?”

“yea, closest college, didnt wanna go too far from home.”

“cute. okay, ill leave you be now, nice to meet you though abby, welcome!”

you left your name and number on a napkin.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

abby: hey, this angel?

angel: sure is babe

abby: hey it’s abby

angel: well hi! was kinda nervous you didnt see the napkin lmao

abby: i was kinda nervous to text you

angel: you’re cute.

angel: anyways i did have a reason for leaving my info

abby: really? i thought u must just give it out to all strangers.

angel: hardy har. good one.

angel: ANYWAYS

angel: wanna go out sometime? i know this super cute restaurant

abby: yea sure why not

angel: cool, ill send you the address. friday at 7 work?

abby: perfect.

ill say “can you believe it?” as we’re lying on the couch the moment i can see it yes, yes i can see it now

yourinstagram

yourinstagram first date, kinda nervy shes a serial killer

tagged: a_anderson

load comments…

a_anderson only u could take this pic and make me seem crazy

↳ yourinstagram its my specialty

dina_nolastname oh u found one that ties shoes? look at you go

↳ elliewilliams i tie ur shoes all the time okay

elliewilliams cute ig

jessesucks ill tie ur shoes for u

↳ yourinstagram please dont. you wear velcro shoes

do you remember we were sitting there by the water? you put your arm around me for the first time you made a rebel of a careless mans careful daughter you are the best thing that’s ever been mine

a_anderson

a_anderson @ the random passerby who took this and airdropped it to me, ill name my firstborn after u

tagged: yourinstagram

load comments…

yourinstagram we r so cute 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ a_anderson wanna makeout?

mannynotnanny i h8 u

↳ a_anderson manny cannot spell: ✅

owenmoore69 been there 2 weeks and already moved on

jerry_anderson So happy for you Abs. Miss you! ❤️❤️❤️

↳ a_anderson miss you more dad 🤍

elliewilliams gag.

↳ a_anderson go away.

↳ yourinstagram yea, go away.

flash forward and we’re taking on the world together and theres a drawer of my things at your place you learn my secrets, and you figure out why im guarded you say we’ll never make my parents mistakes

abby: i have no hoodies

abby: you have any idea why?

angel: …

abby: angellllllllllllll

angel: THEYRE SO COMFY THO

abby: so ill buy u some

angel: but theyre yours i dont want new ones i want YOURS

angel: please you cant take them

angel: they’re mine now

abby: babe i need one

angel: you have one tho

abby: okay but it doesn’t go with my outfit

abby: just the grey one for today and ill bring it home tn

angel: promise?

abby: promise.

angel: fine. bring me a slushy

abby: whatever you want babe

abby: omw.

but we got bills to pay we’ve got nothing figured out when it was hard to take yes, yes this is what i thought about

abby: come over

angel: i cant love

abby: fine, ill come over

angel: no i cant come over bc ive got work in 30

abby: nooooooooooo

abby: call out.

abby: please.

angel: i would but i have rent due this weekend and my car payment the next

abby: just move in with me

angel: mhm yes whatever you want love

abby: no, like im serious

abby: move in

angel: isnt that kinda stereotypical

abby: what moving in after 2 months?

angel: yea yk uhaul lesbians??

abby: and? move in

angel: okay i actually really want to but i still have work so i gotta get ready

angel: but ill come over after and we can talk ab this????

abby: yay! see you then, have a good shift, text me if u need me 🤍

do you remember we were sitting there by the water? you put your arm around me for the first time you made a rebel of a careless mans careful daughter you are the best thing that’s ever been mine do you remember all the city lights on the water? you saw me start to believe for the first time you made a rebel of a careless mans careful daughter you are the best thing thats ever been mine

yourinstagram

yourinstagram best thing to ever be mine 🤍

tagged: a_anderson

load comments…

a_anderson come over i miss u

↳ yourinstagram i left an hour ago 😭

↳ a_anderson UR POINT?????

elliewilliams cringe.

dina_nolastname where r u

↳ yourinstagram cali… we got bored

↳ dina_nolastname GIRL

jessesucks y wasnt i invited??!?!

↳ yourinstagram bc ur u?

↳ dina_nolastname you’ll get em next time

↳ elliewilliams HA

and i remember that fight, 2:30 am as everything was slipping right out of our hands i ran out crying, and you followed me out into the street braced myself for the goodbye ‘cause its all ive ever known and you took me by surprise you said, “ill never leave you alone.”

“maybe i shouldnt move in,” you said, testing how far the both of you could go.

abby sighed, throwing her hands in the hair. “maybe you shouldnt!”

you watched the regret make into onto her face as your heart sunk. you headed out the door, grabbing your keys as you went. you almost made it to the car when you heard abby yelling your name.

“angel, please!” you turned to face her, just feet from your car. you heard thunder start as you waited for her to get closer to you. “im so sorry, please i dont mean it and you know it.”

“im never gonna leave you alone.”

you said, “i remember how we felt sitting by the water and every time i look at you, its like the first time i fell in love with a careless mans careful daughter she is the best thing thats ever been mine.”

a_anderson

a_anderson officially all moved in 🏡

tagged: yourusername

load comments…

yourusername i made her vaccum

↳ a_anderson u didnt make me do anything

↳ yourusername hmmm

elliewilliams housewarming party when

↳ a_anderson never.

mannynotnanny happy for you abs

dina_nolastname MY BABY SHES SO HAPPY MWAH MWAH MWAH LOVE U ANGEL

jerry_anderson My girl is so grown up, love you Abs ❤️❤️❤️

↳ a_anderson love you too dad, miss you ❤️

hold on, make it last hold on, never turn back you made a rebel of a careless mans careful daughter you are the best thing thats ever been mine

yourusername

yourusername happy 1 year baby. i love you 🤍

tagged: a_anderson

load comments…

a_anderson so lucky to love you 🤍

dina_nolastname happy 1 year dorks, love u both sm im so happy for u ur perfect

jessesucks yall r so cute omg

jerry_anderson Abby picked a good one, love you Angel. Happy 1 year to you two! ❤️❤️❤️

↳ yourusername thank you jerry 🤍 love you too, we will be visiting soon promise

elliewilliams photocreds where?!?

↳ yourusername i hate you.

↳ a_anderson up my butt.

↳ elliewilliams ur so immature goodness.

do you believe it? we’re gonna make it now and i can see it i can see it now