#drawing is so hard......... but worth it.......... my boyfriend's back and he's cooler than ever........... learning............. et cetera

[knifebaby3000]

sweet ★

[fictionalfiona]

[Part 1] - Boyfriend Asmr Series Recommendation!!

hii, everyone! I've decided to give you guys some recommendations on my favorite bf asmr series that I love sooo much.

Idk about you guys but its been hard tryna find some good series that don't involve just kissing but have a nice build-up to the relationship!! That's why I find series better than just one-shot asmrs cuz those usually don't have the best character development and depth in their relationships, unlike series which often offer a more engaging and satisfying narrative journey [However I know a few good one-shot recs if anyone want those ^^].

The system i'll be using to give u guys the recs is: Series Overview (Overview of what the series is abt): ❤️ Cuteness lvl : /5

🔥 Spicy lvl: /5

❗ Plot lvl: /5

💕 My Thoughts:

lets get into the recs then! 🏃🏽‍♀️💨

btw to get the links to the series, click on the picture collages

────────────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────────────

1 - Best Friend's Older Brother Confesses While Drunk [M4A]

Series Overview: "Your best friend's older brother invites you over again, thinking you'll have the house to yourself. It doesn't last long before you're forced to hide in the closet together. What happens next? (You kiss and fool around, of course.)" ❤️Cuteness lvl : ❤️❤️❤️❤️/5

🔥Spicy lvl: 🔥🔥🔥/5

❗ Plot lvl: ❗❗❗/5

💕 My Thoughts: I absolutely love this series! It was one of the first bf asmrs I've ever listened to and it always gives me butterflies whenever I relisten to the audio series. The first episode is essentially about how you visit your best friend named Alex's house to see them only to find Alex's older brother opening the door to tell you that Alex isn't here. Then Alex's older brother invites you in and you share a drink which leads to unexpected things to be revealed..!! The tension of your best friend potentially finding out about the relationship was REAL and the tension grows even more as the series progresses. PLUS Phasmid's deep British accent is not only hot (😻) but soo relaxing. Highly recommend this series if your looking for friends to lovers, tension, a deep british accent and is a binge worthy series cause this series only has 3 episodes.

2 -Trapped with your Scottish Tsundere Bully [M4A]

Series Overview: "Another busy day draws to a close as you prepare to head to your final class only to be ambushed by David; the Scottish exchange student, Football team running back and the bane of your existence. However, today he seems... off. Something's bothering him, you can tell. And as he drags you through the corridors to speak with you, you have a feeling you're going to find out what it is soon enough..."

❤️Cuteness lvl : ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️/5

🔥Spicy lvl: 🔥/5

❗ Plot lvl: ❗❗❗❗❗/5

💕 My Thoughts: THIS SERIES IS ACTUALLY SO FIRE! David is such a cutie pie and I think of him all the time!! This series is sort of like a sports romance because we follow David who is an exchange student from Scotland (so he has a Scottish accent which might I say: IS SO CUTE JAHSKHSA) who is trying to get better grades so that he can graduate high school and get those football scholarship offers he's been receiving. But the problem is that he has to first graduate but it isn't looking too promising for him until he meets YOU. The class topper and the person he kindaa bullies from time to time... But he asks for your help and u reluctantly help him out. Lemme just say that Pebbles (aka the voice of David) is an AMAZING scriptwriter and this whole series was just so funny but also heartwrenching to listen. PLUS THE VOICE ACTING IN THIS SERIES IS GRAMMY WORTH. There are other voice actors in this series too which is even cooler! AND DAVID'S NICKNAME FOR THE LISTENER IS SHORTSTACK!! SO CUTE >U<! Its a nickname he uses throughout the series and when someone tries to call you the same nickname repeatedly to annoy David...lets say he gets a little overprotective and things go south (can't spoil it for yall 😌) Overall, this series is great if your looking for enemies to lovers, sports romance and DRAMAA

3 -Starline SERIES [M4A]

Series Overview: "Part one of a romance series between the listener and a peculiar alien. After waking up on his ship, you realize that due to circumstances, you are not getting back to Earth so soon. Not before this stranger completes his mysterious job. With a whole new universe you had not even heard of before now just hours away, who knows what to expect? Not a soul could tell you, but maybe your new friend can show you the way. And your new friend. . . Perhaps there is more to him than what meets the eye?"

❤️Cuteness lvl : ❤️❤️❤️❤️/5

🔥Spicy lvl: 🔥🔥🔥.5/5

❗ Plot lvl: ❗❗❗❗❗X100/5

💕 My Thoughts: HEAR. ME. OUT. I know sometimes alien romances aren't everyone's cup of tea and I get it. I was just like you. UNTILL THIS AUDIO SERIES!! Because why is this series so stinking cute and had me at the edge of my seat cause of all the ACTION! THERE WERE TIMES WERE I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA LOSE BRECKETT 😭😭 But feelings aside, this series follows your adventure with this alien named Breckett who...uh...kinda accidentally crashed his spaceship on top of u 😃. Listen I didn't get that part either and how we are still alive but its alr cause he somehow patched us up in his high-tech medical bay aboard his spaceship. Alien technology is wacky shit 😭. Anyways Breckett informs you that you sadly cannot go back to earth just yet because he has a mission he was sent out to do on Mars and other planets so going back to Earth would only make him lose precious time. So now you're stuck with him on this crazy ass adventure with dodging asteroid storms, outsmarting intergalactic pirates and you two will have to FIGHT FOR YOUR LIVESSS!! Overall, this series is sooo funny, soo eventful and if you're looking for a good SLOOW BURN (and I mean slow girl but soo worth it),Strangers to lovers and sci fi vibes then you'd love this series!

4 -Your Childhood Crush Is Kind Of An Idiot [M4A]

Series Overview: "Charlie's first day at Sweet Pete's Pizzeria has been less than great, but when a familiar face pulls up on a familiar skateboard, he has a decision to make! Be a little rat filled with regret, or…apologizes"

❤️Cuteness lvl : ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️Xinfinity/5

🔥Spicy lvl: 🔥🔥🔥🔥/5

❗ Plot lvl: ❗❗❗❗/5

💕 My Thoughts: OKAY IF YOU'VE SEEN MY BLOG, you already know how much I'm obsessed with Charlie 😭. But there is a reason okay!!! This series follows your reunion with your old childhood best friend Charlie who works at a pizzeria. You haven't seen each other since graduating high school...until now! When you see each other again old feelings unravel and Charlie now doesn't want to stay out of touch with you anymore so you two decide to meet up at a skatepark after his shift. I can't express how much I love this little rat 😭❤️ He is the epiphany of cuteness and I can't tell u how many times I've listened to the series. I loovee his little Brooklyn accent too!! Also note that Charlie does make little references to this other series that Yuurivoice (aka the voice of charlie) made and you actually don't have to watch that other series to understand this one so dw! Overall I STINKING LOVE THIS SERIES and would actually say its my favorite asmr series I've ever listened too :D. If you're looking for childhood best friends to lovers, slow burn, FUNNY ASS DIALOGUE, wanting to dip ur toe into the yuurivoice universe then this series is 4 u!

────────────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────────────

If you stayed this long, thank you! Im thinking of making a part 2 where I have more series to recommend like good mafia,crime and more sci fi series so comment down below if u want more!

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

[chicoriii]

Season 4, Episode 2 - Mensonge (Lies)

Welcome again. I had been logged out from Tumblr for the whole weekend, because I was afraid of untagged spoilers, as I've seen one screenshot here accidentally, fortunately it wasn't spoilerish. And I've watched the Lies today. Again without reading other's people opinion about the episode, so I probably write things that have been said before.

I enjoyed it more than Truth. But not because it's better written, I think the overall quality of both is similar. Lies is about characters I care about more, so it's natural that the episode is automatically more interesting to me. I dislike both Luka and Jagged (to be fair the only member of the Couffaine family I like is Juleka) and that would be hard to make me caring about them, the best thing I could say about any of those characters is that I tolerate them on screen. Sometimes. Don't get me wrong, Truth was the best episode for Luka and Jagged, but they are still dull and/or annoying to me. Creators need to develop son-father relationship more to make me interested in it, that arc was too shallow in Truth.

But the post is about Adrigami episode, not Lukanette one.

I'm surprised that we got only one not very long scene with civilian Marinette. But not surprised that she's still pining over Adrien. Just like Chat is pining over Ladybug. As I'm keeping saying, it's not gonna change. But really, Marinette thinks that Adrien's life is perfect? She should know that tight schedule could be a big problem and has she forgotten what terrible father is Gabriel? Of course she doesn't know details we know, but she should be aware that he isn't as good parent like her own. So probably her enamored brain can't see bad sides of life of her loved one. She still can't think rational when it comes to him. Another reason why she should stop putting him on a pedestal. We need some friendly Adrienette so badly, we need to see Adrien telling her more bad things in his life. He isn't used to complain, but I think he needs to tell someone the truth about his family life. I hope Marinette will be that person.

I had been tired of clown Chat in Truth, but this episode lets us to see the situation from his point of view and now I understand more why he behaves like that. I think that he tries to hide from Ladybug how much he miss spending time with her that way. He is aware that's because of her new responsibility and he doesn't want to make her feel bad for it. Those scenes were so sweet. How much Chat wants an Akuma to appear just to see his lady. Not very noble, but I can't blame him. It only shows that Adrien is a normal human being. We all are selfish from time to time and it's healthy (you only have to find a good balance, being as selfish as Chloé and as selfless as Luka is not good).

Geez, why they can't put the right title of the piece? That's a different composition than that one used back in season 2, but the smartphone's screen says the same. And none of them is actually Raindrop Prelude. This is Raindrop Prelude. They are not even any of Chopin's preludes. I won't be surprised if both are not Fryderyk Chopin's compositions either (although I haven't heard all the solo piano pieces composed by him, so I can't be sure). I love classical music, so I'd love to know what pieces Adrien's playing! By the way, I recommend to listen to all of the 24 preludes, they are usually very short but interesting compositions. If you're too lazy to listen to all, check out number 20 at least, that's a pure, very atmospheric, beauty. One of my favourites melodies ever created.

I have always thought that Adrigami has more chemistry and it's generally more entertaining to watch than Lukanette (sorry stans, but you probably don't even follow me and read my posts,  there's a reason why I'm warning that my blog is not Luka and Lukanette friendly in its description). I feel that in this episode as well. Absolutely it's not a perfect relationship and it can't be, as Adrien is still into Ladybug. It's clear that Kagami is the one who really cares, Adrien is more distant. It seems that he's abashed of Kagami's physical intimacy, like he can't be open to her when he's still in love with Ladybug. That was really sad to hear Kagami's words that she's lying to be more often with him and he lies to not spend time with her. But relationship can't work if only one side is invested in it and they both need to learn it. They have some things in common, I like how they spending time together, so I'm sure they would work much better as friends. I'm sorry for Kagami and I wish her a better boyfriend who would love her truly. In some way it was a repeat of Truth, as we've seen Adrien leaving Kagami all of sudden, because of Akuma's attacks, but this time it's not as heavily portrayed like it's not working only because of superhero responsibility, that I didn't like in the previous episode. Another reason why I liked how Adrigami is shown more.

I really, really loved that we've learnt something new about Kagami and that's amazing it's something I have in common with her. I'm really surprised, since she didn't seem to have an artistic soul before. I also love seeing she likes draw animals, it's like me, I'm trying practise it. I enjoy drawing animals (and creatures like Kwamis or Pokémon) more than humans. But at the same time I feel angry at her mother. How could she dare to say that Kagami isn't good enough? Trying to kill a child's hobby is always unforgivable. She's much better than me (I'm a little jealous, but that's not the first time when a teen has much better skill than me), but my family and some others I know in real life often say that I'm talented and some people try to convince me to take pay commissions. That’s me who knows the best than I'm not skilled enough to take money for my art (they don't know really good artists in person and they don’t draw themselves, so no wonder they are not aware that my works aren't that good they think). Maybe some day, but not now, so I only enjoy drawing gifts for others. I'm also got interested in a real French artist she mentioned - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and I've seen some of his works. Very good for Miraculous for mentioning artist like him, I have never heard about him before, but maybe French students learn about him in school.

Seeing Adrien making Chat's pose was hilarious. I'm sure it's food for true selves trope supporters, but I also agree with Kagami that both model poses and Chat's poses are not ALL Adrien poses. He's more than that. That seemed like he has problems with being natural when he's on the pressure. He's learned how to make model poses, but I also think that when he is in full clown mode is also an act. But that's a mask which he has putted all by himself. In which he tries to be as much different than his public image as he can. Of course being dorky is also a true Adrien side, but not all the time. Being just a cute and polite boy is also true him. It seems that Adrien is not aware of it.

Marinette's lucky charm bracelet is an akumatised object once more. That and the fact she was asking him what he was doing on the boat tell us that Kagami probably think that Adrien is in love with Marinette (it could make also her wonder what stop them from being together if she knows that Marinette likes him as well).

I also liked her reaction to imminent breaking up more. It's more human reaction in my opinion. Some anger, but not too much. She says she doesn't want to see him for a while and that's completely understandable. Adrien has broken her heart, so she need some time to take care of herself without being interrupted by him. I'm going to say something that could be seen controversial, but in my opinion her attitude is way more healthy than Luka's. He still waits for a girl who clearly likes another boy much, but she's trying to really give up on him. And I would like to see a scene in which she says him that Marinette is not worth his waiting, he should be open for another love instead. Uff, I was really worried that they might kill Adrien and Kagami characters. But nothing really bad happened in the episode between them, everything was in-character. Of course salters will still find reasons to hate Kagami, they can say she's possessive towards him (that's true to some extent, but I think it's not really toxic, as she's still cares about his true feelings).

I need to say that Lies is the worst S4 Akuma design we've seen till now. Riposte and Oni-chan were much better. Also the battle was the worst part of this episode in my opinion. It wasn't completely bad, but it felt somewhat boring to me. I definitely enjoyed fights against Truth and Furious Fu more. The thing about that I liked the most what how they made use of Fang.

So the season 4 version of Chat Noir's transformation theme is exactly the same they used in the Shanghai special. It wasn't obvious, since Ladybug's one is a different one than that in the show. I noticed that that Ladybug's theme feels more like a new composition which only uses parts of an original version, while Chat's is clearly "just" an arrangement of the theme we know since season 1. Maybe that's because it's supposed to symbolise that she has even more responsibility now, as she's the Guardian as well. Chat's role hasn't changed that much as hers. I also think the new arrangement sounds cooler, it's more electric guitar-driven. I can't wait to get any of the episodes in which there's his transformation sequence with 5.1 audio to rip it.

All three released episodes are nice for Ladynoir a lot, their scenes are all sweet and wholesome. It almost feel like Ladynoir is close to happen. But I feel that's just calm before the storm. Marinette hasn't reached to her worst moment yet. I'm sure Ladybug will have more breakdowns like that in the season 3 finale.

Three episodes aired and I'm not amazed by any of them. But I don't want to be salty, I'm not worried about that. That's true for season 3 as well, I enjoy the second part of the season more as well. It's important to save the best episodes for later. And I have never expected that I would love all the S4 episodes, despite of pre-release statements, it's impossible. I'm not disappointed. Yet. Just give me some Adrienette food. Please.

[burninglilys]

Teh x Oh-aew 5, 40, 60 prompt please

Hi dear anon! I'm so sorry that this got late!!! Thank you for your ask, I hope that this is worth your time ❤️

Tucked in a cosy flat located in the innermost circles of the city, stands Teh, picking at himself in the mirror. The sweltering heat of the city makes it impossible for him to be satisfied with any part of his clothing; his shirt sticks to him uncomfortably, a bead of sweat already running against the back of his neck. All he truly wants to do is lie down on the mattress under the fan to counter the way the heat seems to drown them all until it cools him down, Oh-aew keeping him company in the comforting silence they often find themselves in.

Teh can't though — he won't — not when this might be his one and only chance at creating a good impression in front of Oh-aew's friends. His friends. The first set of friends that they don't share. Oh-aew's friends who know about them being… together. His friends know that they're partners (!) that live together (!!), and that they love each other (!!!) very much.

Despite Oh-aew's friends being queer — as he had repeatedly assured whenever Teh had so much as felt the prickling, conditioned anxiety in his stomach over it — it still feels weird. Someone knowing something so personal about you despite never having met you. (Someone accepting you, as you are, only through a reflection in someone's words, never having met you, simply because you are just like them.)

Teh takes a shuddering breath, fixes his collar and is about to reach over to fix the mess of hair when the arms of a person he calls home wraps around his waist from behind him.

Oh-aew hooks his head on Teh's shoulder, his lips protruding, as he looks at Teh in their mirror.

"Hi," he says, burrowing his head in the crook of Teh's neck.

Teh tightens his hold on Oh-aew's arms, inclining his head so he can plant a kiss on his forehead.

"You smell really good," Oh-aew mumbles.

"You only ever say that when I use your body wash," Teh replies, turning sideways.

Oh-aew looks at him with a teasing grin, curling his hands around the back of Oh-aew's neck. "Well, do you not want me to say that? I can definitely take my statement back. Ai Teh, get away from me, you smell—"

Teh pushes their foreheads together to silence him, effectively.

Oh-aew's grin only widens. He leans forward to kiss his nose. "I only ever say that when I use your body wash because I love when you smell like me."

"I only ever use your body wash because it feels like you're with me," Teh admits. It feels comforting, having a piece of Oh-aew with him whenever he's not around. It feels like home.

Oh-aew's gaze turns a little serious, despite his grin remaining the same. He lets out a small sigh, his fingers straightening out Teh's collar before they reach his buttons.

"You know that it's okay if you don't want to meet them, right?" Oh-aew asks, pressing the flat of his fingertips on his shirt, drawing patterns. "I wouldn't mind. They wouldn't as well. I understand how hard it is," he says in a gentle tone. "It's so hot today anyway. We can just stay at home, lie down under the fan."

Teh catches Oh-aew's hand, pressing tiny kisses on each of his fingertips. "I want to meet them," Teh says. It was his decision to let Oh-aew's friends know, anyway. He wanted to be open about it here; these nerves are irrelevant.

Oh-aew looks at him for a minute too long, a searching, kind look in his eyes, before he slowly nods. "We'll leave in a while then?"

Teh nods. "Go get dressed."

Oh-aew gapes at him, mock offended. "Are you saying that I don't look good enough to go outside, Teh?"

Oh-aew's vest currently has three visible holes — not fashionably put there, no matter how much Oh-aew claims — and his shorts have been faded for as long as Teh remembers, but he grins anyway, pushing aside Oh-aew's hair from his forehead and leaning forward to press a kiss. "You always look good enough to go outside."

Oh-aew's mock pout turns into a teasing smile. "Ewww. Someone might think that you have a crush on me."

"That someone is right," Teh sincerely says, leaning closer.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Teh nods in earnest fervour. "It is so," he says, his voice dropping down. "And, that someone better know just how much I love you."

Some days, the love that Teh has for love feels all-encompassing, mollified, embedded deep within him for so long that it is a part of him, that he doesn't know how to exist without. Other days like these, he feels the love for Oh-aew threatening to flicker and burst out from within, until it messily combusts everywhere painting their whole world pink.

"Well," Oh-aew mutters, snaking his hands behind Teh's neck, "lucky for you, I love you too."

***

Oh-aew's friends are… not how Teh expected.

Not that he could ever say, for sure, what he expected really, but he thought that there would be more of this air of weirdness that would cling to his skin until he can rush home and scrub it off with Oh-aew's body wash. But it isn't weird at all. They look at him, eyes crinkling and warm smiles, say, "So you are the boyfriend," and suddenly, Teh feels as though he has known them forever.

They sit and they talk like old friends reconnecting again until it's hours past the sunset, making plans of meeting again when their schedules line up.

It's a cooler evening, the sky devoid of any clouds for once, and Teh in that moment decides that he wants to walk home with Oh-aew, despite their home being thirty minutes away.

Oh-aew only grins and follows. They hold hands, no longer shying from the big eyes of the city — they had realised within a month of living here that no-one cares enough to look at two people holding hands on the sidewalk — and make their way back home, chattering about anything that remains to be spoken.

Oh-aew's hold suddenly tightens, pulling them to a stop under a dim-lit street light. There are relatively few people around, the shops around them all closed and packed, and rarely does the street reflect the headlights that come along the way.

Teh looks quizzically at Oh-aew who only smiles at him, comfortingly. "You really didn't mind being with them today?"

Teh pries their fingers apart, tugging Oh-aew closer. "No," he answers honestly. "It was nice." Nice being perceived and known; your identity being accepted as default, without going through the tedious process of coming out over and over again.

"And you're alright?" Oh-aew asks, the same concerned, searching look in his eyes making a reappearance.

Teh squeezes Oh-aew's fingers reassuringly. "I am more than alright," he says. "Your friends are really good. Ray especially."

Oh-aew grins at Teh then, tugging him closer. "I knew you'd get along well with her!" he exclaims. "You're both so alike that getting along was the only option, Teh!"

Oh-aew does not let him reply, his expression turning concerned again. "How are you feeling though?"

"Good," Teh answers, his heart warming over just how concerned Oh-aew is, just how much he cares. "It feels like this stone is lifted off of my chest, you know? I can breathe easy."

There's always a fear, Teh realises, not being enough for his straight friends, and his sexuality not being enough for the queer friends that he might make. No part of his sexuality felt enough before — except today, it feels reaffirming, liberating, like he can breathe better around it.

In a moment of unabashed bravery, Teh looks around the almost destitute street, and leans in closer. Oh-aew's eyes widen slightly, looking around the streets on instinct, before his concerns melt away into a puddle, only leaving behind his fond smile. "What?" Oh-aew whispers.

Under the glow of the streetlight above them, Oh-aew looks beautiful.

"Can I kiss you?" Teh whispers back.

Under the golden light, their lips meet. A universe comes alive at that moment.

They pull away from each other within seconds, twine their fingers together with a small smile on their lips, as they hurriedly make their way back home.

"Dumbass," says Oh-aew, after making the sharp left that leads them to their home.

Teh holds Oh-aew's knuckles to his hand and says, "What can I say? You make me brave."

(send me a prompt + pairing if you want!)

[occasionally-writing]

Read To Me

A/N: Hey guys!!! I apologize that this took so fucking long to come out but here it is! This was requested by an anon and I also got a similar request from @khloris-makara​, so I decided to combine them! I really hope you guys like it and to everyone else who reads it, I hope you like it as well <3

Summary: Mork is on his last year of university and his stress of a deadline for his thesis is high on his mind. Sun notices his boyfriend’s decreasing mood and decides to do everything he can to help Mork relax and take a breather for his own well-being. 

Word Count: 1953

Sun had no idea truly how long Mork has been at it. Ever since his boyfriend had entered the cafe with his bag in hand, throwing it down on the table with an obviously stressed furrowed between his brows, Sun knew that the younger boy was in no mood to be teased today. Not saying anything as he quietly watched his boyfriend throw himself on a chair at a table in the far corner of the cafe, Sun kept his eyes on him in concern through his shift, making sure that Mork wouldn’t overwork himself with whatever he was focusing so hard on. 

Not too long after Mork had sat down, the sun was beginning to set and the familiar hustle and bustle of the cafe started to grow silent, the closing of the day beginning to make the regular customers leave to head home. Letting out a sigh as his shift had just ended and the last person left the cafe, Sun untied his apron and hung it up next to Mork’s on the rack, silently stepping around the counter and heading towards the door to turn the opened sign to closed. Rolling his shoulders back as he could finally relax, Sun placed his hands on his lips and turned his attention to Mork, who was still nose deep in his books, the furrow even deeper in his brows than it was when he first entered.

“Mork? Do you need anything?” Sun asked, rubbing his face when all Mork gave him was a grunt, not exactly answering his question. Letting out a heavy sigh, Sun strolled behind the counter again and began to make a smoothie from the fruit he and Rain had in the small fridge, knowing Mork wasn’t too fond of coffee. Stirring it once it was out of the blender, Sun dipped a straw into it before he made his way towards his tense boyfriend, placing the glass in front of his face. Noticing Sun at last, Mork stared at the drink in confusion until Sun’s hands caressed his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles he could feel under his touch. “You’ve been in this position for a while. Why don’t you stop and get some rest?”

“But...this thesis is due by the end of the week and it’s Wednesday! I need to get this done, P’Sun…” Mork grumbled, his voice low and gravely as it displayed truly how tired he actually was, despite his weak protest. Letting out a hum as he put this into thought, Sun continued to massage his boyfriend’s shoulder, his thumbs pressing softly in gentle circles that had the tension slowly leaving Mork’s shoulders. Leaning back against the chair as his body relaxed against his permission, Mork sighed and laid his head against Sun’s chest, releasing the pencil he had in a tight grip as he stared up at his worried boyfriend. “What if I don’t get this done in time? This is my last year of university and it’s worth a good chunk of my grade…”

“I know...but it’s not going to be good if you don’t take a break. Your words are going to jumble and you’ll trail from the main point you’re supposed to be making. Trust me, dear, I did the same thing as you did while I was in university and I didn’t realize my mistake until Rain distracted me from my studies,” Sun whispered, keeping his voice soft to make sure Mork knew he wasn’t arguing or nagging him. Moving his gaze away from Sun’s loving gaze, Mork stared down at the work he already completed and noticed that Sun was right, his handwriting was almost illegible. Cracking his knuckles as the ache in his hands made him more aware of how long he was working, Mork swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, leaning back against Sun again as his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, a kiss being placed against the back of his head. “Come on. Let me run you a nice cool bath while you clean this stuff up. Sounds like a plan?”

Biting back a yawn at the thought of being able to relax and get out of his current hunched position, Mork nodded and allowed Sun to help him out of the chair he sat for who knows how long. Lacing their fingers together softly, Sun pressed a kiss to the back of Mork’s before he let go, offering a smile as he moved to head up the stairs to the apartment above. Watching him leave, Mork didn’t look away from his boyfriend’s retreating form until he could no longer see him, his attention moving back to the papers he had scattered on the tiny round table. Knowing that he would have to fix most of the mistakes he had made, Mork couldn’t help the scowl that turned his lips down. Sluggishly gathering all the papers up and putting them in their respective folders, Mork shoved everything back in his bag and tossed it over his shoulder, stretching lightly as everything in him cracked, showing its displeasure with being trapped in the same position for what was most likely hours. 

Slipping up the stairs as he turned off most of the lights for the cafe, Mork toed off his shoes and lined them up next to Sun and Rain’s, knowing how his boyfriend was with being neat and having everything in its place. Hearing the water running in the bathroom, Mork couldn’t help the shy smile that lit up his face as he turned away from it for a moment, heading towards Sun’s room so he could put his bag away, knowing his boyfriend wouldn’t mind it if he placed it on the loveseat he had by the window. Feeling his body relax further as he stepped into Sun’s room, the scent of his boyfriend literally everywhere, Mork tossed the bag on the loveseat and quickly moved out, not wanting to keep Sun waiting since he heard the bath running for him. 

“P’?” Mork mumbled as he knocked on the door, opening it just slightly so he could peek into the bathroom. Noticing Sun right away, Mork stepped further in and closed the door behind him, deciding to sit on the toilet seat as he got the gentle smile from his boyfriend. Making sure the water was the right temperature, Sun nodded and stood back up from where crouched and wiped his damp hands off on his jeans. Letting out his hand for Mork to take, Sun carefully pulled him up and wrapped his arms around his waist, keeping Mork close enough to where their chests were touching. Feeling a wave of shyness making his cheeks warm, Mork swallowed back a protest and allowed Sun to hold him. “P’Sun, can I get in the bath now?”

“Oh...right, sorry. Go right ahead and just throw your clothes in the hamper. I need to do the laundry tomorrow anyways. I’ll go get some clothes for you to borrow,” Sun whispered, pressing a kiss to Mork’s flushed cheek as he let him go, playfully slapping his butt as he stepped out of the bathroom, a cheeky grin on his face when Mork gasped and turned to give him a playful glare. Watching the door close behind his boyfriend, Mork sighed and did as Sun had said, removing his clothes and tossing them into the hamper, not waiting long as he let his body sink in the lukewarm water. Leaning back against the tub, Mork felt his body losing all the tension he kept throughout the day and closed his eyes, not moving until he heard the slight knock on the door. “I brought you some clothes. I’m going to be in my room if you wanna join me when you get out, okay?”

Humming in return as Sun placed the clothes on the sink, Mork let his eyes slip shut again as Sun stalked over and brushed his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp until the touch disappeared and the bathroom door was opened and closed once again. Letting himself soak until the warmth of the water disappeared to a cooler temperature that made goosebumps rise on his arms, Mork huffed but slowly sat up, pushing the plug to let the water drain as he stood up, carefully stepping out on the rugs Sun always had down so no one would slip and crack their heads open. Blinking slightly when he noticed two towels on the toilet, Mork couldn’t help the grin that made his lips twitch up when he realized that Sun must’ve put them down for him when he dropped off the clothes. Wrapping the towels around himself, Mork sluggishly dried off, slipping on a pair of shorts and a muscle tee that he knew belonged to his boyfriend, the scent of his cologne woven deep into the fabric from how much Sun had worn it. 

Stepping out of the bathroom with a yawn once he was dry and his hair was slightly damp, Mork slowly made his way towards Sun’s room, pausing to glance at Rain’s closed door before he continued his pace towards his boyfriend’s bedroom. Gently rapping his knuckles against the door, Mork quietly let himself in and came face to face with his boyfriend, who was sitting on his bed with the one lamp on his bedside table on, bathing the room in just enough soft orange light for him to see the words on the pages. Glancing up from his book, Sun gave him a small smile and patted the spot next to him softly. Finding he didn’t have the energy to react like he usually would, Mork agreed and crawled onto the bed, squirming up to Sun as he laid his head on his boyfriend’s chest, letting one arm drape itself across Sun’s waist. Keeping one hand on the spine of the book, Sun threaded his free hand through Mork’s hair, drawing him closer until they were meshed together.

“You can sleep if you want. I’m going to stay up a little longer to read more,” Sun whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Mork’s forehead, making a small sound slip from his lips that caused Sun to chuckle. Huffing slightly with a pout on his lips, Mork buried himself deeper into Sun and sighed, relaxing fully for the first time today. Continuing to rub his fingers through Mork’s hair, Sun kept his eyes on his adorable boyfriend for a moment longer before he finally let his gaze drift back to his book, beginning to read again. Observing him quietly as his eyes began to flutter shut, sleep wanting to drag him into unconsciousness, Mork whispered something that made a smile rise on Sun’s face. “You want me to read out loud? Okay…”

Taking in a deep breath as Sun relented and began to read, his voice steady and hushed in the semi-dark room, Mork struggled to keep his eyes open as he listened. Getting into another chapter in no time, Sun paused when he felt Mork’s body grow lax against his, his eyes leaving the book to take in his boyfriend, who had finally passed out and was holding onto him tightly like he was afraid Sun would disappear if he didn’t hold him close. Letting out a fond sigh, Sun held Mork tighter against him and smiled, nuzzling his nose in his hair for just a second before he gave his attention back to the book, keeping up with reading out loud very softly as he remained unaware of the soft smile that was resting on Mork’s face as he snuggled closer, burying his face into Sun’s chest as he slept.

[always-anxious612]

Magic in the Air: Chapter 5

Description: Patton offers to help. That’s all he’s really ever wanted to do. Help his friends. But will that eventually lead to a mess that he wasn’t prepared for?

Pairings: roceit, analogical, intruality, platonic DRLAMP

Warnings: food mention, blood mention, slightly gorey image mention  (please let me know if I missed anything or if you want something tagged)

Word Count: 1,746

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9

“Watch out!”

The yell came from the living room and at the sound, Patton instinctively ducked (quack), biting his lip as a book slammed into the kitchen wall behind him. He had been doing a lot of that recently…ducking that is. With Roman, Virgil, and Dee all working on their magic over the past few weeks, the household had become a bit of a chaotic mess.

“Sorry, Padre.” Roman apologized coming into the kitchen to grab the book. “You ok?”

“Perfectly dandy, Ro.” Patton grinned, standing up and patting Roman on the back. Roman returned the smile and hurried back to the living room when Logan called his name.

“Hello, Patton.” A smooth voice greeted from the front doorway. Dee made his way into the kitchen to stand next to Patton and sighed gazing int the living room. “How is our favorite prince doing today?”

After Roman had gained a little more confidence, he had started having his lessons separate from Dee once again in order to make the best of all of their schedules. Needless to say, their schedules had become a bit hectic ever since everybody started gaining magic all of a sudden. Even Remus and Patton were swamped with trying to help Logan in his experiments, keep up with their own class schedules and being there for the three struggling with controlling their magic.

“I think he’s doing great. Only one book flew in here today, so that’s a bonus!” Patton cheered, smiling at Dee.

“Oh?” Dee purred letting a soft grin inch its way onto his face. “How marvelous.” Patton nodded in agreement, looking toward the living room where Roman had six things hovering in the air.

“That’s the most he’s gotten to, right?” Patton asked as Roman started moving the things in a circle in the air. It looked like he was juggling without actually touching anything. He’d been working really hard to get that part right. Since he had had his magic a bit longer than the others and now knew a bit more about his limits thanks to…what had happened, he had really mastered just floating the objects and had moved on to rotating them, moving them, and adding more objects. It was amazing to see him improving rather fast, even if he sometimes still lost control of an object or two. After he had set the objects down, he glanced into the kitchen and spotted Dee. With a quick word to Logan, he ran over and jumped at his boyfriend. Dee let out a little oomph as he caught Roman and supported his weight while the actor wrapped his legs around Dee’s waist.

“Did you see, Dee?” He gasped, like an excited child. “I got six objects up this time.”

“I saw, my prince. You did amazing!” Dee encouraged, pecking Roman on the nose.

“I’d say you’re actually improving quite quickly Roman.” Logan chimed in from where he’d come to stand at the doorway of the kitchen. Roman smiled gratefully at him as he finally released Dee.

“Thanks, Lo.”

“I’m only speaking the truth.” Logan replied, smirking softly as Roman blushed at the compliment. As Logan opened his mouth to continue, a heavy thumping on the staircase drew all of their attention.

“Logan, we’re gonna be late for class! You said you’d come get me ten minutes before we had to leave.” Virgil panicked as he rushed suddenly downstairs and headed toward the door. Surprised, Logan checked his watch and cursed under his breath.

“Great job today Roman. Don’t forget that you and Dee have tomorrow off because I have to help Virgil make one of the backgrounds for the play.” Logan reminded as he grabbed his bag and quickly followed Virgil to the door. Patton smiled after them, giggling at how obvious it was that they were dating. They hadn’t outright said it yet, but it wasn’t hard to tell. He knew that Dee knew as well from the knowing looks he kept giving the two. It was great that they got to work in at least one of the same classes together. With Logan being in Theater Design and Technology and Virgil being in Stagecraft, they often worked together on projects for the school’s major productions too. In fact, all of the others were also pursuing careers in theatre: Dee in costume designing, Remus in stage makeup, and Roman in acting. However, Patton himself was majoring in Dance. Sometimes he was a bit sad that he was the only one that never got to help in the production of the plays, but he at least got to help Roman when he was auditioning for a musical and needed help with the dances. Plus, Remus often helped him practice his partnered dances since he had always been interested in the subject. Speaking of Remus…  

“Has anyone seen Remus? I have something he needs for his makeup class.” Patton remembered.

“I think he was in his room last I saw him.” Roman answered as he began to get the ingredients to make himself a sandwich.

“Would you like a sandwich Pat?” he offered, looking up.

“Aw, thanks kiddo! That’d be great! Could you make one for Remus too? I don’t think he’s come out of his room all day, so he probably hasn’t eaten.”

“Sure, but I am not adding sardines to his ham sandwich this time. He wants those he can get them himself.”

Patton giggled softly before heading upstairs to get the makeup brushes he had for Remus. He had borrowed them to do his makeup for a costumed dance routine he had to do for class last week and kept forgetting to give them back, but Remus could only last so long making up excuses for why he didn’t have his makeup brushes in a makeup class. He was getting ready to knock on Remus’s door when he heard angry muttering from the other side. Slightly worried, he hesitantly knocked on the door anyway.

“Remus? Kiddo? Roman made some sandwiches for lunch if you want to come and eat” he called. The muttering fell silent but there was no answer.

“Um, Are you ok?” Patton asked hesitantly.

“’M fine.” Remus responded, sounding unconvincing. His answer was much quieter than usual and there was a slight waver to his voice.

“I’m coming in, ok?”

When there was no answer, Patton took that as an ok and cautiously opened the door.

Remus was slumped over at his desk, his head resting on a piece of artwork of a girl with half of her face completely covered in tiny cracks that branched out and bled into the rest of her face and down into her neck…like a china doll that had been dropped and shattered, just on the verge of breaking completely. It was haunting but still beautiful, and though it wasn’t Patton’s type of art, he could still admire the talent and work that went into it.

“That’s beautiful, Remus.” He complimented, still gazing at how intricate the cracks were drawn. Remus snapped his head up and stared at Patton then looked back to his drawing.

“You think?” he asked, chewing his lip as he studied the picture.

“Yeah, of course! The cracks in the face are so intricate and you did her hair so nicely and the way the fractures kinda start to bleed into the rest of her face but fade off. It’s really great. You did amazing.”

“It was gonna be my project for my makeup class. I was gonna add some blood seeping from the cracks and not paint her face so it’d look like an actual fractured human face instead of just a cracked doll and everything! I mean, a cracked china doll is so overdone, right? This way, it’ll look much cooler and probably be a lot creepier. And a bit more gory, with the blood and flesh and stuff.” Remus ranted, smiling at the thought. Patton tried not to grimace at the concept. It really was very cool…just not his type of thing.

“What changed? Did you find a better project to do?” Patton asked noticing that Remus’s smile faded at the question.

“My professor said that it wasn’t possible for someone with my skillset to get it perfected in time and recommended I pick an easier design.”

“What? But that doesn’t make any sense. You’re not going to learn new skills if you don’t challenge yourself. I mean you are in the class to improve your skillset.”  

Remus was silent for a minute before speaking again.

“So…you don’t think I have the skillset either?” he asked quietly.

“Wh—No, Remus. That’s not what I meant. Not at all. I actually think this is right up your alley. I’m sure you’d do amazing. I’m just saying even if that’s what he believes, he should still let you do the project. So what if its challenging? You’re there to learn aren’t you? And if you want to push yourself so you can grow, I think he should encourage that not turn you away from it.” Patton pointed out. Remus smiled, but it still seemed too sad for Patton’s taste.

“What if you did it anyway?” he suggested. Remus’s grin suddenly turned mischievous as he raised an eyebrow.

“Patton are you suggesting that I disobey authority? I never thought I’d see the day.” He gasped dramatically. Patton flushed bright red as he slapped Remus’s shoulder playfully.

“I-I just think that if you do it and perfect it anyway, then you can prove it to him that he was wrong.” Patton defended “But this isn’t worth a lot of your grade or anything right? Because it might be best if you don’t test your professor when you can fail the whole class because of it.”

“No, of course not. It’s just a little project.” Remus replied, waving it off and looking away. Patton raised an eyebrow at his suspicious reaction but shrugged it off as Remus continued.

“I need a subject to practice it on though. None of my classmates like to be my subject anymore.” He pouted.

“Well, I could be your subject if you like.” Patton offered.

“You—You will? But this—I mean, this isn’t usually your thing.”

“It’s not but it still looks really cool, and you always help me with my dance routines. It’s the least I could do.”

“Ok, then. Thanks Patty Cakes!” Remus grinned. Patton nodded, hiding a blush.

“Anytime. Now let’s go get those sandwiches.”

Taglist: @catolicabuena @look-ma-im-on-tv @its-always-the-witching-hour @sure-i-exist @wellhellothere09 @star-crossed-shipper @cemmy 

[bettydice]

(Planning the Day) To Meet You

Wangxian, Modern AU, Slow Burn, E-Rated 

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 13

Wei Ying Good morning! Ah you’ve been awake for 4 hours by now right Haha

Lan Wangji Good morning.

Wei Ying Do you want to have a picnic today? I’ll bring a blanket So you don’t have to worry about your trousers getting dirty

Lan Wangji I'd love to.

Wei Ying And before you offer, I’ll prepare everything! Okay??? I’ll take care of the food! I can see you typing, you want to protest, right? Okay You can bring coffee, because yours tastes better And tea for yourself But other than that, only bring your beautiful self!

Lan Wangji … alright

Wei Ying Great!!! :) :) :) Should we say 5:30 pm? Won’t be as hot then Park in front of uni? I’ll find us a good spot

Lan Wangji That sounds good.

Wei Ying Alright! ❤❤❤❤

Lan Wangji finds it… a little challenging to stick to only bringing tea and coffee. But he doesn’t want Wei Ying to feel like he wants to undermine his efforts, so he does not even bring a cake.

Wei Ying has found them a nice spot under a large tree, a little away from any frolicking students. He’s spread out a colourful blanket, as promised, sitting cross-legged and barefoot, but jumps to his feet, as soon as he spots Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji realises he doesn’t know how to greet Wei Ying. Now that they’re boyfriends. He wants to kiss him, but they’re in public.

Wei Ying also hesitates once they’re standing in front of each other and for a few seconds, they just stand… and stare. Wei Ying has pulled his hair back with Lan Wangji’s hair tie, but as always, his hair can’t be fully tamed and a few loose strands frame his face, caressing his skin in the gentle breeze.

“Hello,” Lan Wangji finally says with a soft smile.

“Hi.” Wei Ying smiles, too.

Lan Wangji does cross the final distance then and presses a short, sweet kiss to Wei Ying’s lips.

When they part, Wei Ying sighs, almost relieved.

“Wei Ying?”

“Ah, I just get… nervous.”

“Every day, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji stresses, in case he forgot.

Wei Ying smiles at him, strokes his cheek, then drags him towards the blanket.

“Lan Zhan… I may have gone overboard. I can’t even tell anymore. How much do two grown people eat? I don’t know!”

There really is… a lot of food sitting on the blanket. Lan Wangji is someone who likes to overprepare… this beats even his best overpreparing efforts. All sorts of cut-up vegetables and fruits, baozi, tea eggs, milk bread...

“This is all for us?”

“Uhm… yep.”

“Well, it’s always nice to have leftovers.” Lan Wangji turns to Wei Ying and squeezes his hand. “A week’s worth of leftovers.”

“Hey, Lan Zahn! Stop teasing me!” But Wei Ying doesn’t sound insulted. He laughs, eyes sparkling, dimples showing and ah, he’s so beautiful.

“Thank you, truly. It all looks lovely.”

“Ha, hopefully it tastes good, too…”

“I have no doubt.”

Lan Wangji takes off his shoes and finds a free spot on the blanket. Wei Ying stares down at him, a little in awe, before he joins him.

Even though the variety of choices is overwhelming, Lan Wangji tries his best to taste everything that’s on offer. Wei Ying only starts eating once he’s satisfied Lan Wangji likes what he has prepared. It does taste good, so Lan Wangji makes sure to compliment everything well.

Once Wei Ying believes him that he can’t eat anything more, he packs everything back into the picnic cooler bag, except for a tupperware with cut-up watermelon.

“Lan Zhan, can I borrow your lap?”

“Of course.”

Wei Ying stretches out on the blanket, pillowing his head on Lan Wangji’s lap. Then he tells Lan Wangji to feed him the watermelon, which he happily does. Lan Wangji watches the shadows of the rustling tree play on Wei Ying’s face. Sometimes he lets his fingers linger after he’s fed Wei Ying another piece and Wei Ying will kiss or lick them. His other hand is intertwined with Wei Ying’s and resting on Wei Ying’s chest. It’s like a scene from a dream he hasn’t dreamed yet.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Lan Wangji whips his head up, as does Wei Ying, as much as it is possible for him, without actually lifting his head.

Before them stands Nie Huaisang, signature fan in hand, staring down at them with a bemused expression.

“Nie Huaisang.” Lan Wangji nods. It’s not polite to not stand up, but his legs serve a greater purpose at the moment and are not available.

“A-Sang, what are you doing here?” Wei Ying laughs nervously.

“Feeling betrayed and hurt you didn’t tell me you finally stopped pining over Lan Wangji long enough to actually do something about it.”

“Hey!” Wei Ying does sit up now, to Lan Wangji’s disappointment, and points accusingly at Nie Huaisang. “I wasn’t pining!”

“Sure, sure.”

“Also… it’s… well it’s a recent development, so…”

Nie Huaisang only huffs, but Lan Wangji knows him well enough to know he’s hiding a grin behind his fan.

“Would you like some watermelon,” Lan Wangji offers, in a tone of voice Nie Huaisang should know means he wants him to fuck off.

“So sweet of you to offer, Lan Wangji. But no worries, I will leave you two alone so you can continue your disgusting display of whatever it was I just had to witness. I have a hot date to attend to.”

“Good for you! Have fun! Bye!” Wei Ying waves, or rather, shoos him away. Nie Huaisang ignores him.

“Ah, Wangji… you should maybe check in with your brother. Today he told me he was considering buying a whole ass palm tree for his balcony. Please stop him.”

“You saw Xichen?” It’s not unthinkable, but he’s never known them to spend time together without Nie Mingjue present as well.

“Well, for my appointment, right?” He winks. “Client #1.”

“...Right.” That makes more sense. “I had wanted to thank you for helping my brother, but I see it wasn’t entirely selfless.”

“You wound me!”

“I doubt it,” Lan Wangji replies dryly. Then adds: “Still… thank you. I appreciate it.”

“My pleasure, obviously. And don’t worry, I’m working on finding him more clients! I have… ideas.” Nie Huaisang’s smile reminds him of one of Wei Ying’s wicked smiles, but this one fills him with nothing but concern.

“Huaisang…” Nie Huaisang having ideas is rarely a good thing, in Lan Wangji’s opinion.

“Gotta go! Have fun boys, but not too much, you’re in public!” He throws them a kiss and disappears.

Lan Wangji rolls his eyes, but can’t help a small smile, before pulling Wei Ying back down into his lap. Wei Ying immediately takes Lan Wangji’s hand and puts it back on his chest.

“It’s still so weird to me that you know Huaisang too!”

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan… we could have met way earlier if you’d ever come to any of his parties!”

“Would you have liked me then? I’m better in libraries than at parties.” He tries to imagine himself at one of those gatherings… and can only see himself either leaving immediately or hiding away in an empty room or the bathroom. He does not think Wei Ying would’ve ever started talking to him under such circumstances.

“Lan Zhan, how could I ever not like you?” Wei Ying exclaims, indignant. “There’s no reality where I would not like you!”

Lan Wangji lifts their hands and presses a kiss to Wei Ying’s knuckles.

“Though, maybe it’s good we only met now… Teenage me was a fucking idiot and college before A-Yuan me was a bit of a mess…”

“I would have still liked you.” There’s also no reality where Lan Wangji would not like Wei Ying.

“Well, I was always very pretty, so…” Wei Ying winks up at him. It’s more like an aborted blink, but Lan Wangji appreciates it anyway.

“You’re very pretty,” he acknowledges, because it’s true. “Beautiful.”

“No need to flirt so hard, Lan Zhan! I’m already ready and willing!” Wei Ying emphasizes his statement by licking his lower lip and arching his neck, so Lan Wangji can see the slightly faded marks from yesterday.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji admonishes, though he feels heat crawling up his neck.

Wei Ying cackles, but doesn’t tease him further. He lifts his free hand to gently stroke Lan Wangji’s cheek, the movement a bit clumsy due to Wei Ying’s position.

“I’m glad I met you, Lan Zhan.”

“Me too.”

For a sweet moment they simply look at each other, smiling. Then…

“Can we go to your apartment so we can make out?”

“Yes.”

An hour later, Lan Wangji is sitting on his couch, and Wei Ying is straddling his lap, in the process of unbuttoning Lan Wangji’s shirt.

“I can’t believe you really look like this,” Wei Ying breathes against his lips, undoing the last button. “You’re ridiculous, Lan Zhan.”

“Want to see you, too.”

Wei Ying smirks and without further ado, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. It lands somewhere on the floor behind him.

“Beautiful,” is all Lan Wangji can say, running his hands reverently up Wei Ying’s sides, ghosting his fingers over his stomach.

He doesn’t get to enjoy this view much longer, because Wei Ying kisses him again. Lan Wangji hadn’t thought the act of kissing could be improved on, but being able to touch Wei Ying like this, the warmth of his skin, being able to feel the muscles move under his fingertips, feeling Wei Ying’s hands on his own skin… He’s so overwhelmed by it all, he doesn’t even notice he’s hard until Wei Ying very deliberately grinds down against him.

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying draws a line of kisses from Lan Wangji’s mouth to his ear. His fingers stroke the skin above his waistband. “I want to make you come. Can I?”

Lan Wangji almost comes right then, so Wei Ying certainly can.

“Yes.” Lan Wangji is surprised he manages to form even such a simple word, but feels like soon he might not be able to do that.

Wei Ying kisses him again, licks into his mouth, as his fingers deftly open Lan Wangji’s belt. Lan Wangji wants to keep kissing him, but he also… he doesn’t want to miss anything, so he gently pushes Wei Ying back.

“Too much?” Wei Ying immediately halts his movements.

“No. But… I want to see.” Lan Wangji expects to feel mortified about his boldness, but it never comes. The heat in Wei Ying’s eyes keeps it at bay. If Wei Ying looks at him like this, he can be bold.

“Oh?” Wei Ying leans back even further and grins. “Lan Zhan, look closely then.”

He slowly pulls out his belt, drops it on the floor, undoes the button, unzips his fly. His knuckles brush against Lan Wangji’s cock, only a thin layer of cloth between them. Lan Wangji’s heart is trying to burst out of his chest. He’s trying to see everything: Wei Ying’s face, his teeth digging into his lower lip, his pebbled nipples, his arm muscles moving as he’s unravelling Lan Wangji…

Then Wei Ying frees his cock, wraps his hand around it and squeezes. Lan Wangji has to close his eyes after all, throws his head back and breathes hard, trying not to come.

When he opens his eyes again, Wei Ying is staring at him, eyes dark and hungry.

“Fuck… Lan Zhan, you really are ridiculous.” Wei Ying wets his lips, stares at his cock. Fuck, Lan Wangji really is not going to last long. How could he?

“Wei Ying… want to see…” Lan Wangji has a hard time finding the right - or any - words, so he moves his hand until it rests on the waistband of Wei Ying’s shorts, a question in his eyes.

Wei Ying only gives him an eager nod and squeezes his cock again, as though that’s a good way to answer a question. Lan Wangji tries to not let that distract him from the feeling of touching Wei Ying’s cock for the first time.

He wants to take his time, see Wei Ying’s reactions and find out how he wants to be touched, but Wei Ying keeps touching him too, fingers playful yet determined at the same time, and he needs all his focus for feeling. Despite wanting to see, he ends up only looking at Wei Ying’s face, in awe at all the little signs of pleasure he finds there.

Suddenly, Wei Ying shimmies closer so their cocks touch, he can feel Wei Ying’s hand moving against his own and it’s too much, his body can’t contain the pleasure anymore, it’s too much, it’s… Lan Wangji squeezes his eyes shut and comes.

“Fuck. Fuck that’s so hot…”

Lan Wangji is still floating, not quite feeling in control of his body, because Wei Ying has that control right now and Lan Wangji doesn’t really want it back. But he wants to see Wei Ying come undone too, so he makes a weak attempt at moving his hand.

Wei Ying laughs, takes Lan Wangji’s hand off his cock, ignores his protesting whine, slicks his cock up with Lan Wangji’s spend, then wraps Lan Wangji’s hand back around his cock and keeps his hand on top of Lan Wangji’s. He shows Lan Wangji how to move, when to squeeze… The noises he makes, the way he moves his hips, so he can fuck up into their hands… Lan Wangji tries to take it all in, but he already knows he’ll need to do it again and again.

When Wei Ying comes, it’s beautiful. He gasps “Lan Zhan”, throws his head back, mouth open and groans, spilling hot over both of their hands. If Lan Wangji wasn’t already spent, he’d come just from seeing that.

“Fuck… that was…”

But Lan Wangji doesn’t get to hear what that was, because Wei Ying kisses him thoroughly, and for a little while, nothing else matters.

“We should get cleaned up.”

Lan Wangji, still in a daze, tries to move, or at least tell Wei Ying that there are wet wipes in the bathroom and in the bedroom (in the bedside drawer, next to his lube), but Wei Ying presses him back against the couch and shakes his head.

“Stay. I’ll take care of you.”

Wei Ying looks down at the mess, snorts a laugh, gets up and steps out of his shorts and boxers. He smirks at Lan Wangji, who suddenly has trouble breathing, turns around and walks off towards the bathroom.

Lan Wangji watches him leave, or rather, stares at his ass, then leans his head against the wall and tries to regain his senses.

Wei Ying returns after a while, cleaned up, a wet towel in his hand. He kneels down on the couch next to Lan Wangji and begins cleaning him. He gently moves the towel across his cock, his stomach, his hand. It’s terribly intimate and Lan Wangji doesn’t dare move or say anything. When he’s done, Wei Ying tucks Lan Wangji back into his boxers and closes his trousers. He pulls his own boxers and shorts back on, returns the towel to the bathroom, then drops down on the couch next to Lan Wangji, grinning up at him.

“So, Lan Zhan… did you like that?”

Lan Wangji stares at him, a little exasperated. ‘Like’’. What an inadequate word.

“Mhm? What’s that frown? A yes?”

“Of course.”

Lan Wangji takes Wei Ying’s hand and laces their fingers together.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you?” Wei Ying gives a startled laugh. “What for? The orgasm? Hopefully just the first of many, Lan Zhan!”

“Thank you for…” Lan Wangji doesn’t actually know what he’s grateful for, just that his heart is full and warm and… “... for being Wei Ying.”

“Ah… well…” Wei Ying seems at a loss for what to say, so he pulls Lan Wangji’s face towards him and presses a soft kiss to his lips. “Mhm… Lan Zhan, thank you, too.”

Wei Ying pulls him further until they’re lying down on the couch, then throws one arm and one leg over Lan Wangji’s body, snuggling against him. Lan Wangji enjoys simply being close to him for a while, almost falls asleep.

“Wei Ying.”

“Mhm?”

“Do you want to meet my brother?”

“What, now?!” Wei Ying lifts his head, aghast.

“No, of course not.” The last thing Lan Wangji wants to do right now is move. Or let go of Wei Ying. He also doesn’t particularly want to see his brother, so soon after… “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? That’s… that’s… in one day!”

“Yes.”

“Uhm…”

“Too soon?”

“I… don’t think so? I just didn’t expect you to ask.” Wei Ying puffs out his cheeks, looks at Lan Wangji for a few seconds, clearly thinking about it, then finally smiles. “Of course. I’d love to meet your brother.”

“We can do it later, if you’re not comfortable yet.”

“Well, I’m just nervous! What if he doesn’t like me!”

“He already likes you.”

“Oh? Told him about me?” Wei Ying looks surprised again, but pleased and his shoulders relax a little.

“Yes.”

Wei Ying laughs, finally puts his head down again and Lan Wangji tightens his arm, pulling Wei Ying closer against him.

“You will meet the bunnies, too.”

“Oh? Yes! Cloud and Jade! Ah, I’ll get to see you snuggle them; you can recreate that picture for me!”

Wei Ying starts one of his little monologues, where he’ll ask Lan Wangji some questions but never actually expects an answer. He muses whether Lan Wangji or the bunnies are cuter, what he should wear to meet Xichen, whether they should get a pet for A-Yuan… Lan Wangji listens to it all, smile never leaving his face, blinking slowly, feeling the soft skin of Wei Ying’s back under his fingers.

“-maybe we’ll just buy a plant first, it’s not as tragic if that one dies, and-”

“Wei Ying.”

“Mhm?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t say anything, only deepens his smile. Wei Ying returns his smile, infinitely brighter, and strokes his cheek.

“Ah… Lan Zhan… me too.”

[lets-talk-appella]

They’re Us

Chapter 2/5

Summary: When the enemy looks like your friends, how do you know who to trust? For PP Horror Week 2019 - Doppelgangers.

Word Count: 4k

Rating: M for horror themes and some violence.

Chapter 1

AO3 and FFN

Spending time with Jesse post-break up is much more enjoyable than it had been pre-breakup.

Which maybe would have been nice to know earlier.

As soon as it starts raining during her last class of the day, Beca reaches for her phone. She has some vague hope that either Jesse or Stacie or someone can be persuaded to drive to campus and pick her up so she doesn’t have to walk home in the rain. Because of course she doesn’t have an umbrella.

When Beca pulls out her phone, however, she sees a notification from Jesse already waiting for her.

Jesse: U need a ride Becaw?

She twists her mouth, biting at the inside of her left cheek. His timing really is something.

Duh.

After another ten minutes wasted listening to her professor drone on, she’s free, class having ended, and she makes her way out of the building. Outside, she scans for Jesse’s car in the parking lot across the street, staying close to her building to remain relatively sheltered from the rain. After a moment, flashing headlights catch her attention. She crosses the street carefully and half-jogs to get to his car, the rain only becoming more intense by the second.

“Hey nerd,” she greets, swinging herself into the passenger seat and shoving her bag between her feet on the floor. As soon as she closes the car door behind her, the skies open and it starts raining even harder. The sound of the drops splattering against the roof of his car is almost deafening.

Jesse gasps in mock offense, putting a hand to his chest. “Is that any way to talk to your super cool ex-boyfriend who picked you up in the rain?”

She fixes him with the most deadpan expression she can muster.

He stares back, eyes wide and hand still on his chest.

She counts to ten, but neither of them blink.

“Is this gonna be a thing?” she asks blandly.

“Yep. Not gonna stop staring.”

“That’ll make driving pretty hard.”

“Probably.”

She transitions her deadpan expression into her most withering glare.

Jesse still hasn’t blinked or moved as far as she can see. Even she has to admit that’s pretty impressive.

Finally, she sighs and turns away, blinking against the sting of her dry eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever, thanks for the ride. Let’s just go!”

“Sore loser,” Jesse grins boyishly, his pose breaking as he starts the car with one hand, rubbing at his own eyes with the other. He pulls the car out of its spot and Beca buckles her seatbelt.

“How was your day? Good?” Jesse prods, glancing over.

“The usual,” she shrugs. “Arrogant professor, annoying amounts of reading that I’m not gonna do. Oh, some girl asked a really stupid question about—”

“So, uh, do you have to be home super soon?”

Beca frowns at the interruption. “Not really…” she answers slowly. “Why?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could grab Chinese or something,” Jesse suggests, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to glance over at her.

Just then, Beca notices that the music is off, which is unusual. Maybe the storm messed with the radio signal or something.

“Oh.” Beca shifts in her seat a little uncomfortably. “I mean, sure, but... like, we haven’t really been doing things like—”

“Not as a date,” Jesse says hurriedly, raising a hand to rub at his eyes again. “I just thought, you know, we’ve hung out since we broke up, but we haven’t really talked about, um, everything, and maybe we—”

“Dude, what’s up with your eyes?”

“Huh?” he looks over at her again, brow furrowed.

“Your eyes. You keep rubbing them,” Beca points out. “Did all that staring dry them out?”

“Oh.” Jesse blinks rapidly and returns his hand to the wheel and his eyes to the road. “No, just, um, some grit or whatever.”

“Oookay,” Beca says slowly, drawing out the vowel. “Can you see to drive? Like, with the rain?”

“Yes, Beca, it’s fine,” Jesse dismisses, voice turning impatient. “It’s supposed to stop soon anyway. Yeah, so, back to earlier, I was thinking we should go get dinner. And maybe talk.”

Beca hesitates. “I… what do you want to talk about? Just... stuff? Anything?”

“No, more like… about us. Don’t you think?” Jesse’s voice is light, but Beca gets the feeling he isn’t really asking. It’s not a feeling she particularly likes.

“Um, there isn’t really an ‘us’ anymore,” she reminds him, watching the side of his face carefully. “And I kinda thought we’d… talked… enough.”

“I mean, it’s kind of a big deal. It changes a lot.”

Beca’s voice lodges in her throat; when they’d broken up two weeks ago, Jesse had seemed to understand. It had been amicable. At least, as amicable as a breakup can be.

Jesse huffs what could be a little laugh. “Come on Beca, you can’t just tell me you’ve figured out you’re gay and then just not talk about it.”

“You said it was fine,” she replies stiffly, glaring out the window without really registering where he’s driving them to.

“Yeah, well, now I think we need to talk about it.”

A hard knot of anger forms deep in Beca’s stomach. “Jesse, I’m gay and I don’t like like you anymore. Done,” she spits defensively, using the most sarcastic tone she can manage.

Jesse rolls his eyes in annoyance.

Beca stares in disbelief. “What else is—so start talking then,” she says, stung.

“No, I mean over dinner,” Jesse insists again.

“Why can’t we just talk now? You’re making this a big deal.”

“Because we should talk over dinner.”

Beca stares out the window, noticing for the first time that he very distinctly did not drive the route that would take her back to the Bella house. “What’re you… Jesse, if this is some weird—what the hell, dude, why are you being so weird about this now?” she asks loudly, becoming more annoyed by the second.

“I’m not being weird, I’m being—”

“Ridiculous?”

“Seriously, Beca?” Jesse explodes, startling her into silence. “You’re gonna turn this on me? That’s typical, you know that? I’m taking you to dinner, and we are going to talk. That’s it.”

Beca swallows. In a much smaller voice than she’d have liked, she manages, “I don’t want to go with you.”

He ignores her completely.

“I mean it Jesse,” she says more loudly. “You’re acting really shitty right now. I thought we were fine. You said we were fine and it’s been working, and now—you can’t just—you know what?” she asks, the volume of her voice rising with every word. “Just take me home. I don’t want—”

“Shut up, Beca,” Jesse cuts her off with a snort of disgust. “You talk too much.”

Beca flinches. He’s never told her to shut up before.

“I… Stop the car,” she says, hating how much her voice quivers.

“No.”

Her eyes flick to the door locks, calculating whether Jesse’s driving too quickly for her to throw herself from the car and into some sort of tuck-and-roll.

“Stop the car,” she repeats.

He doesn’t answer.

Maybe for the first time ever, she notices how much bigger than her he is. How much stronger.

She’s never been scared of Jesse before.

She doesn’t like how it feels.

“Actually,” she tries, “I just remembered I said I’d help Chloe with—”

“You’re lying.” His voice is cold and certain.

“And you’re being a psycho!” The words burst out before she can stop them, and she immediately regrets it.

His expression darkens in a way she’s never seen, his face twisting and turning ugly. His knuckles whiten on the wheel. “Beca—”

“We’re at the restaurant,” she says suddenly, desperately, eyes catching sight of their favorite Chinese place rapidly approaching through the window.

For an instant, she isn’t sure Jesse is actually going to stop; when he does, he slams on the brakes, jerking Beca against her seatbelt and making the car behind them honk and swerve to avoid them. Muttering darkly, Jesse quickly maneuvers the car into a spot, parallel parking more perfectly than Beca has ever seen him do it.

“Get out,” he says, turning the car off.

Beca hesitates, but then realizes that being outside right now might be better than being in a confined space next to him. She unbuckles her seatbelt and fumbles for the door handle, finally pushing the door open and allowing a rush of the cooler air into the suddenly stifling car. The rain has slowed to a gentle shower, just like Jesse said it would.

He’s beside her in a flash—so suddenly that it startles her, because she hadn’t heard him get out of the driver’s side—and holding an umbrella above them both, sheltering them from the drizzle.

Standing on the sidewalk, she debates making a run for it. Even though he’s bigger and taller and therefore probably faster, she’d have surprise and more than three years’ worth of Bella cardio on her side—but then Jesse’s hand secures over her upper arm, gripping just a little too tightly.

He doesn’t say anything, but the message is clear.

Pure fear coils in Beca’s stomach, rolling and frothing until she thinks she’s about to be sick. Her throat closes and her mouth goes dry; she doesn’t even think she could muster a proper scream if she needed to.

Jesse takes a step toward the Chinese restaurant, steering her with ease, forcing her with him. She knows things will only get worse once they’re inside, unless she can slip away to the bathroom and make it out a window or something, but he’d see that coming.

“Jesse, I don’t want—”

“Beca? Jesse?” a familiar voice calls out over the rain.

Relief washes over Beca instantly; Jesse stops and they both look over to see Cynthia Rose and Stacie leaving the nail salon a few store fronts away, taking shelter under Cynthia Rose’s umbrella.

Beca barely takes a moment to wonder at the lucky timing. She’s too busy trying to convey to Stacie and Cynthia Rose that something is wrong.

“He—”

“Hey, you guys,” Jesse speaks over her, his hand sliding down from Beca’s upper arm to instead force his fingers between her own, holding fast to her hand. Stacie’s eyes follow the movement curiously.

Beca tries to shift away from Jesse and toward Cynthia Rose and Stacie, but Jesse only moves with her so that it looks like they’re walking in tandem. Jesse squeezes her hand hard in warning, and another thread of fear runs down Beca’s spine; she can’t let Cynthia Rose or Stacie get hurt.

“What’re you two doing here?” Cynthia Rose asks curiously.

“Just grabbing dinner,” Jesse says airily. “Right, Bec?”

He squeezes her hand again.

“Y-yeah, just some Chinese,” Beca manages, staring intently at Stacie.

A small frown appears between Stacie’s eyebrows. “Oh yeah? It’s nice that you guys are still hanging out.”

“Yep,” Beca says before Jesse can open his mouth. “Just can’t get away from each other.” As she speaks, she deliberately raises her free hand to play with the piercings on her right ear.

Both Cynthia Rose and Stacie’s eyes widen at the gesture.

Jesse doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, so, it was nice running into you, but we’re gonna—”

“Wait,” Cynthia Rose says quickly. “Didn’t you see Chloe’s text?”

Jesse pauses, looking annoyed. “What text?”

“I, um, haven’t been able to check my phone at all,” Beca replies, gently swinging hers and Jesse’s joined hands.

Stacie’s face becomes an impassive mask. “It was a group text. She just said to ‘come home now,’ so that’s why we’re headed out. You need a ride back?”

Jesse coughs. “Actually we—”

“It seemed important,” Stacie cuts him off. “And you know what Chloe’s like. Hell hath no fury.”

Beca has no idea of Chloe had actually sent any kind of text, but at the moment she doesn’t care. All that matters is that Cynthia Rose and Stacie had understood her.

Jesse tries again. “I’m sure that whatever she has going on will be fine without Beca.”

“That’s not really how Chloe operates,” Cynthia Rose says.

Stacie nods. “Yeah, when she sends group texts, she means business.”

Beca holds her breath.

A long moment passes. Stacie starts tapping her toe on the sidewalk.

“I—fine!” Jesse finally spits. “Great, sure. We’ll just go.”

“You need a ride?” Stacie asks again. “Cee and I drove.”

Beca opens her mouth, but Jesse beats her to it. “I drove her here. I can drive her home.”

“Oh, then I’ll just ride with you,” Stacie says smoothly, pulling her keys from her purse and handing them to Cynthia Rose. “Beca, I feel like I haven’t seen you all week, we’ve both been so busy. It’ll be great to catch up.”

“Definitely,” Beca says, trying to ignore the crushing pressure around her hand.

Jesse hesitates, and Beca knows he’s trying to come up with some excuse.

“I’ll just drive behind you guys,” Cynthia Rose adds. “Don’t mind me.”

Beca has to fight to keep the smile off her face. Cynthia Rose pretty much just ensured Jesse doesn’t make any detours driving them back to the Bella house.

Jesse seems to have realized the same thing. “Perfect,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Let’s go then,” Stacie urges, stepping close to Beca under the premise of taking cover under their umbrella and resting her hand on her lower back protectively. “Don’t want to be late for Chloe.”

“Of course not,” Jesse replies, the sarcasm in his tone obvious. Still, he leads the way back to his car, keeping hold of Beca’s hand. Stacie doesn’t pull away from Beca either, though, and she thinks that together they must make a strange sight, all crammed under the small umbrella. Jesse unlocks his car with the key fob and holds open the rear passenger side door for Stacie. She slides into the back seat gracefully, pulling the door closed behind herself. Jesse has to release Beca’s hand in order to open the door for her as well—keeping up appearances—and she slides into the passenger seat.

“You okay?” Stacie breathes as soon as the door shuts behind Beca, giving them precious few seconds alone before Jesse enters the car.

“No. He hurt my hand,” Beca whispers back, flexing out her fingers and wincing as the blood rushes back to her fingertips.

“I saw,” Stacie replies, her voice full of anger.

Then Jesse’s opening the driver’s door and climbing into the car. He slams the door hard enough to make the car rock, throws the umbrella behind his seat, and starts the car. Barely glancing over his shoulder, he pulls onto the road. Beca looks into the side mirror; Stacie’s white car, driven by Cynthia Rose, follows close behind.

They drive in silence. Jesse stares at the road, his hands tight around the wheel. Beca looks out the passenger window, her mind racing. She only risks one glance back at Stacie, who sits motionless in the backseat, her hand hidden in the pocket of her purse where Beca knows she keeps her pepper spray.

Cynthia Rose stays close behind them, the headlights of Stacie’s car cutting through the easing rain and reassuring Beca of her presence.

She’s terrified that at any second, Jesse will take a wrong turn. That he’ll drive her and Stacie to some secondary location and try to lose Cynthia Rose. But he never does. Before long, he’s driving them through the correct part of Barden, then into their neighborhood, and finally, down their block.

Still, Beca doesn’t breathe properly until he pulls into the driveway of the Bella house and turns off the car.

“Well?” he says harshly as Cynthia Rose pulls into the driveway directly behind them, effectively trapping them. “You’re here.”

Beca doesn’t hesitate, fumbling for the door handle. She opens the door, and as she pushes it open, she hears Stacie doing the same. It’s stopped raining completely.

“Beca!” a voice calls, and Beca steps out of the car to see Chloe positively sprinting toward her across the Bella front yard, white as a sheet. “Beca, run!”

“Wh—”

Beca’s throat stops working when she looks beyond Chloe and sees Jesse running after her, his expression horrified.

“He stole my car!” the Jesse running behind Chloe shouts, and Stacie starts screaming.

Beca’s brain has frozen with incomprehension. It doesn’t make sense. She has to be dreaming or hallucinating or something because Jesse just drove them to the Bella house and is still in the car. He can’t have been with Chloe, that’s impossible, he can’t have been in two places at once, and she knows she should run or scream like Stacie or do something, but she’s rooted to the spot, her body numb with shock until—

Jesse—the Jesse that had driven her home—grabs her from behind in a bear hug, pulling her to his chest, his crushing weight surrounding her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She flails on instinct, writhing in his grip, but he’s much stronger. He holds her tightly and starts moving, and she’s being hauled backward, away from the house and toward the street.

“No!”

She hears Stacie shout and Chloe scream, but she can barely focus on them. She struggles, flinging out her limbs, trying to escape. She tries making herself heavier, tries giving into gravity, but Jesse’s arms only tighten. Panic rises in her chest when she realizes he’s carried her to the road. She lashes out desperately and manages to hit Jesse in the neck just below his jaw; he gags, and his grip loosens. She struggles even harder and suddenly there are hands grabbing at her, pushing at him, as Chloe, Stacie, Cynthia Rose, and the other Jesse rip her free from him.

The Not-Jesse is shoved, hard, into the road as Beca is hauled back toward the house, sandwiched between Chloe and the real Jesse—she can just tell it’s him, it’s her Jesse—and there’s an abrupt revving noise, a deep shout, and a sickening thud, accompanied by bending metal and shattering glass.

Safe on the Bella yard, still between Chloe and Jesse, Beca looks back into the road and gasps.

The Jesse that had attacked her lies on the pavement, twisted and broken, his limbs at unnatural angles. He’d gone over the top of the car and must have been scratched by the windshield; cuts and scrapes cover what Beca can see of his body. The car—why does it look familiar?—that had hit him has already stopped, engine idling.

Beca stares at the still form on the ground. Her stomach rolls and she has to fight the urge to vomit.

“Um…” the Jesse at her side says softly, and she looks at him automatically. His face is ashen, his eyes fixed on the spot of the road where his doppelganger lies. Numbly, Beca looks around at the others. Chloe’s staring at the road, too, her expression more fierce than frightened. Beyond her, Stacie and Cynthia Rose are obviously shaken. Cynthia Rose keeps glancing between the broken Jesse on the road and the unharmed Jesse standing next to them.

Only a second has passed.

The car turns off and its door opens; Amy gets out of the driver’s seat, which explains why the car looks familiar: it’s Bumper’s. “Did I get him?” she asks, glancing at Chloe.

Chloe’s throat bobs up and down before she answers. “Y-yeah, I think you got him.”

Nodding, Amy walks over to the Jesse on the road, peering down at his unmoving form. “Pretty solid whack. He won’t be getting up.”

“Good,” Chloe breathes, glancing at Beca.

“I’m… you…” the Jesse next to Beca manages, sounding raspy. “You were right,” he finally manages, talking to Chloe.

“Yep,” she replies grimly.

Beca thinks she may have gone into shock. She feels lightheaded and floaty and can’t understand what she’s seeing.

“He’s… dead?” Stacie asks, her voice quivering slightly.

Before anyone can protest, Amy draws back a leg and kicks the Jesse on the ground, hard. “He’s not breathing,” she says. “I don’t wanna touch him to check for a pulse.”

“No, don’t touch him,” Cynthia Rose insists. “Just… leave it.”

“What…” Beca blinks the spots from her eyes.

Chloe steps away from her, cautiously moving toward the body. She leans over it, like Amy had. After a moment, she says, “His eyes… is that a contact lens?”

Beca doesn’t want to look, but the concern in Chloe’s voice draws her in, along with Jesse, Stacie, and Cynthia Rose. With great reluctance, she forces herself to look at the ruined face on the pavement. It’s turned to the side, resting one cheek on the blacktop, his upper body half-twisted and facing down. The one eye she can see is open and colored a startling amber, nothing like Jesse’s usual brown. On the pavement next to his face is a small film, blending almost perfectly into the pavement. It looks like a colored contact lens.

“His eyes,” Beca remembers, her voice sounding far away to her own ears. “He kept rubbing his eyes. I bet that’s why. He wasn’t used to them.”

“Aubrey did the same,” Chloe says, which only confuses Beca more.

“Aubrey?” she asks.

Chloe nods, her face pale. “They’re clones. Or doppelgangers, or aliens, or—something, I don’t know. But I talked to Aubrey’s. She looks—it was Aubrey. I had coffee with her. But then I called her, and she’s at the lodge. I bet she had color contacts, too.”

A headache has started to form behind Beca’s eyes.

“Ginger came home in a tizzy,” Amy supplies. “Explained. I knew it was only a matter of time before more of them popped up.”

“He stole my car,” Jesse adds, sounding like he has a head cold. “It was just gone, and I didn’t know where, so I came here to see if… well, I ran into Chloe, and she asked if I knew where you were,” he says to Beca. “And, well, she kind of explained and then we put it together and wondered if the other me…” he trails off, glancing at Beca. “Apparently, we were right. Did he—did you really think he was me?” he asks, voice hushed.

Beca nods, her mouth like sandpaper. “Yeah, I—I mean, of course I did. He looked like you. He picked me up in his—in your car after class. And he was so… normal, for a little. But then he got weird about—he just got really weird, and scary, and I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think…”

“It was lucky we ran into them, honestly,” Stacie says. “We saw your text and were leaving the salon and happened to see them. Beca was great,” she adds. “She used the signal for ‘creepy guy’ that we do at the bars. She touched her ear, and we knew.”

“I told all the Bellas to come home,” Chloe says. “A group text. I sent it right after Amy, Jesse, and I figured it out.”

“Ummmm.” Amy raises her hand, staring hard at Stacie and Cynthia Rose. “Question. How do we know that you guys are you? Like maybe you’re just their clones.”

A very loaded silence falls.

A different kind of knot tightens in Beca’s stomach. She shifts away from Jesse slightly, carefully eyeing Stacie and Cynthia Rose. And, she realizes with a pang, Amy and Chloe might not be themselves. A wave of nausea crashes over her as she realizes she doesn’t know who she can trust.

“We’ll figure that out later,” Chloe says tightly.

“I mean, I’m obviously me,” Jesse says.

Stacie hums. “Unless there’s more than one clone thing.”

Jesse opens his mouth, then closes it, eyebrows drawing together.

“I mean,” Cynthia Rose starts, “Stacie and I have been together all afternoon, and Amy, if you and Chloe have been talking… and I don’t think Clone Amy would run over one of her kind,” she points out.

“I dunno,” Amy says, “could be a clever ruse.”

They all look at her.

“I’m me, but I’m just saying,” she shrugs. “If I were clone me and not me me, it’s what I’d do.”

“Helpful,” Beca mutters.

Chloe looks at Cynthia Rose. “Did you go to campus today?” she asks sharply.

Cynthia Rose blinks. “Uh, no. No classes today.”

Chloe’s lips tighten. “You’re you. I saw your… double, whatever, on campus today.”

“Oh, that’s... horrifying,” Cynthia Rose says, shuddering.

“Okay, look,” Chloe begins. “I think we just have to trust each other at this point. When the others start showing up, we’ll deal with it then. For now, maybe let’s just get inside.”

“What are we going to do with him?” Beca asks, purposely avoiding looking at the Jesse clone still lying on the road. “We can’t just leave him here. Someone’s going to call the cops.”

Chloe bites her lip, thinking.

“Trunk,” Jesse says abruptly, looking at Bumper’s now-dented, windshield-less car. “He’ll fit until we can sort it out.”

“Not it,” Amy says immediately, placing her index finger on the tip of her nose. “Not touching it. Nose goes.”

Jesse rolls his eyes and steps forward. “Just pop the trunk.”

Amy does, and they watch as he picks up the lifeless form with surprisingly little struggle. Beca glances around, making sure no one is peeking out their window or driving by, but the neighborhood is deserted. It doesn’t take long for Jesse to push the body into the trunk and close it.

“Done,” he says grimly, wiping his hands on his jeans. “That was so weird.”

“Right,” Chloe says with authority, clapping her hands together. Beca is reminded forcefully of Aubrey. “Everyone, into the house. We have to make a plan.”

[bittysvalentines]

Two-for-One Special

From: @luckiedee

To: @leahlisabeth

Ship: Patater (Kent Parson/Alexei Mashkov)

Word Count: 2,995

Rating: PG-13

Summary: There are several ways to deal with a rumor. You can deny it, of course. Or you can pretend that it's true.

Warnings: language, referenced/implied sexual situations.

Author's Note: Written for the 2019 Bitty’s Valentine’s Exchange as a gift for @leahlisabeth, whose requests included Patater and fake dating. Inspired by prompts #22 and #25 from this list. I hope you enjoy! ♥

“Hey, did you hear about Parson?”

Kent freezes, his protein bar halfway to his mouth. That’s Carl; Kent would recognize his grating, overconfident voice anywhere. It sounds like he’s out at the water cooler, and he probably doesn’t realize that Kent is in the break room — and therefore, within earshot — but he’s enough of a dick that Kent can’t be sure.

The answering voice is female and hushed: “I heard something about him hooking up with Alexei.” That’s Tamia.

And that’s… what?

Carl snorts. “In Parson’s head maybe. It's a lie, and he made it up himself. Pathetic.”

Kent goes hot and cold at once, flushing with anger and shock. He hadn’t done either of those things — whether or not he’d hook up with Alexei Mashkov (he totally would), there’s no way in hell he’d tell anyone at work about it, much less float a rumor that it had happened when it hadn’t.

To her credit, Tamia’s skeptical as she asks, “Really?”

“Obviously,” Carl says.

“If you say so,” Tamia replies, still dubious.

As their voices fade away, Kent sighs and tosses what’s left of his protein bar in the trash. Hopefully, whatever bullshit misinformation is in the air, it won’t reach Alexei himself.

*

Kent has taken several temp jobs since he started working on his accounting degree, but this is the first one where he feels like he’s on a kindergarten playground instead of in an office. Except that five-year-olds probably don’t spread sex rumors. So maybe it’s more like high school drama, but Kent has been working with teenagers for years at a local sporting goods store, and they’re definitely more mature than Carl.

To be honest, Kent’s not exactly sure what he did to make the dude hate him so much. He suspects it’s something to do with the fact that Carl is hoping to be hired by the company after their project is done (in which case, Kent is direct competition) or that he’s been trying to get into Tamia’s pants since day one (in which case, Kent is not).

At lunch, Kent sits with the other temps, since there aren’t any empty tables. He’s got his head down, so it comes as a complete surprise when Alexei squeezes into the chair next to his and scoots so close that he’s practically in Kent’s lap. “Hi Kenny,” he says warmly, looking right into Kent’s face, and that… is not something he’s ever called Kent before.

It makes Kent feel like he’s been eating rocks, a whole pile of them that are sitting in the pit of his stomach and dragging it down. Is this all some kind of joke? Are Carl and Alexei in on it together?

Except — Alexei doesn’t look like he’s joking. He’s angled toward Kent, and his head twitches in a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Then, he winks.

Kent risks a glance around the table, and Carl’s jaw is almost on the floor so — okay, not in on it together. He looks back at Alexei and finally replies, “Hey.”

Alexei’s grin widens. “So, Thursday is Valentine’s,” he comments, all nonchalance as he unwraps a sandwich. “You want I tell you about surprise now or later?”

“Valentine’s?” Kent croaks out.

“Mmhmmm,” Alexei hums around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly. He swallows. “Remember I say maybe I have plan?”

There’s that nod again, barely a movement, while Alexei holds his gaze steadily.

“Right,” Kent says slowly. “You sounded like it probably wouldn’t work out, so I guess I… forgot about it.”

Alexei seizes on that. “Didn’t think it would work! But I pull string, and we have reservation at new fondue place. My friend is bartender. Someone cancel last minute. Maybe they break up; sad for them, but happy for us. Is two-for-one special. You keep night free for me?”

Kent sees Carl’s expression go from shocked to bewildered. And okay, Kent still has no idea what’s going on, but — this could be fun. He knocks his shoulder into Alexei’s and gives him a close, private smile. “For you? I’m always free.”

Across the table, Tamia perks up. “I waitress there on the side!” she exclaims. “And I just agreed to pick up a shift on Thursday. I’ll try to get you seated in my section.”

Shit, Kent thinks, but Alexei doesn’t seem bothered by it. “We give you best tip,” he promises, and then turns to Kent. “I pick you up at six-thirty. Reservation at seven.” He drops one catcher’s-mitt hand onto Kent’s knee under the table and gives it a quick squeeze — Kent’s face flames — before he addresses Carl, “You have plans?”

It’s hard not to feel smug when Carl gives a grudging no in response. Kent’s plans may be fake, but at least he’s got some.

*

Basically, it’s a weird fucking day, and Kent is glad to escape when it’s over. He shuts down his computer promptly at five, but before he’s even halfway out of his chair, Alexei glances up and asks, “I walk with you?”

“Sure,” Kent agrees, and when they’re outside and well clear of the building, he says, brightly, “So, what the fuck?”

It seems to take Alexei by surprise. “What you mean, what the fuck?”

“I mean, why are you acting like we’re… dating, or whatever? Two-for-one special at the fondue place? Is this a joke or something?”

“No!” Alexei exclaims, sounding affronted, and then his voice goes concerned. “You not hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Rumor, about us.”

Kent groans. “I was afraid of that. Fuck. Listen, I swear I didn’t —”

“I know,” Alexei cuts him off, simply, like he never had any doubt. “Was Carl, making shit up. Can’t stand him.”

Huh. “I had no idea,” Kent admits. “You’re nice to him.”

Alexei shrugs. “Have to be nice at work. But he’s dick.”

It’s so surprising and Kent is so relieved not to be the butt of some coordinated prank that he starts to laugh. “Then what the fuck was that?” he asks, more jovially this time.

“I’m just mad and think maybe make him feel dumb, get even. Should have asked first. I’m sorry,” Alexei says, contrite.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kent replies. It had been fine. Confusing, but fine. Now that he knows it wasn’t malicious, the look on Carl’s face had been more than worth it. “Actually, thanks. I owe you one. Have a good night, okay?” With an awkward gesture that’s half wave, half salute, Kent starts backing toward his car.

“You owe? Maybe I make you pay for fondue,” Alexei suggests.

Kent stumbles over his own feet in surprise, and Alexei lurches forward to grab his arm. “You —” Kent starts once he has his balance back. “You were serious about that?”

Alexei draws his hand back and jams it into his jacket pocket. “I’m not lie. I get reservation last minute, but no date. And we have to show Tamia we’re best couple! I’m just joke, I pay, so free meal for you.”

He looks so genuinely hopeful that Kent can’t imagine saying no, even though Alexei’s rationale isn’t as flattering as, say, actually wanting to have dinner together. “Sure, yeah, okay. Why not,” Kent says. After all, his actual Valentine’s Day plans involve watching sappy movies with his cat, and he’s not sure which is more pathetic: that or going on a fake date with his pretend boyfriend. It’s probably a toss-up.

At least this job is going to end in a few days, and after that, it won’t matter anymore. In the meantime, there are worse things than a free dinner with an attractive guy.

*

On Valentine's Day, Alexei greets Kent at his door with a single red rose — which is unexpected to say the least — and Kent accepts it gingerly. “Think dozen is too many for first date,” Alexei says with a wink. He’s wearing a cardigan, and it kind of makes him look like somebody’s grandfather, but it kind of works too.

“Should I bring this to the restaurant?” Kent asks. Otherwise, how is Tamia ever going to see it?

Alexei shrugs. “Whatever you want. Is yours now.”

Kent ends up sticking it in a bottle of water and leaving it behind, because he doesn’t have a vase and he doesn’t want something else to keep track of when he’s already juggling so many lies.

While Kent is settling into the passenger seat of Alexei’s SUV, Alexei waves a hand and says, “Sorry for mess. I’m forget to bring inside.”

Kent cranes around and catches sight of — a hockey bag. His eyebrows shoot up. “You play hockey?”

“Just beer league, for fun.”

“Yeah? I played a lot when I was younger.” Kent considers how much of an understatement that is. “A lot.”

Alexei glances over at him. “You any good?”

Kent snorts. “I was all right. Probably would have been drafted if I hadn’t blown out my knee.”

There’s a suspicious tilt to Alexei’s smirk. “I think you being modest. I’m Google you later.”

“Go ahead.”

Alexei’s tone grows more sympathetic as he says, “I’m sorry for knee. Big sports injury, change all life plans, must be hard.”

And that isn’t something that Kent would delve into on a real first date, much less a fake one. “It was an adjustment, for sure.”

“You still watch?”

Probably more than he should. Kent often wonders if he should have made a cleaner break, but it’s harder than it sounds. “All the time,” he admits.

“What team?”

“The Aces. They probably would have drafted me.”

He laughs good-naturedly when Alexei greets that news with an exuberant boo. “I’m Falconers fan,” he announces.

Kent groans. Of course he would be a fan of the team that Jack plays for, now that Jack’s finally made it to the NHL. It’s probably lucky that they aren’t trying to start an actual relationship. “Well, let’s not have our first fight before our first date,” he warns.

They arrive early, and Kent perches beside Alexei on a bench, a few inches away, until Alexei chuckles and tugs him closer with an arm around his shoulder. Kent steadfastly doesn’t think about how well he fits tucked into Alexei’s side. “Is date, kroshka,” Alexei murmurs. “Sit close to me.”

Jesus fuck. It’s all Kent can do not to shiver. “Right,” he says, fumbling his phone from his jeans pocket into his blazer.

“Wait,” Alexei orders him. “Is that cat on phone?”

“Oh — oh yeah, that’s my cat,” Kent replies. “Her name is Kit.”

Alexei beams. “Gorgeous lady! Tell me about.”

That Kent can do.

After they’re seated at a booth, Alexei extends one arm, hand on the table, palm up. Kent tentatively covers it with his own, and Alexei holds it, stroking over Kent’s knuckles with his thumb. His eyes are warm in the mood lighting, and Kent traitorous heart trips over its own rhythm. Not real, he reminds himself. This is not real.

He’s startled by a bright voice chirping out, “Hey guys!” It’s Tamia, who’s appeared at the edge of their booth. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Kent’s first instinct is to yank his hand back, but Alexei’s grip tightens as he grins.

The meal starts with cheese fondue — and who knew carrots would taste so good dipped in cheese? — and a salad. Even better than the food is the conversation: they talk about being non-traditional students, and more about hockey, and Kent listens, enthralled, as Alexei recounts his decision to leave Russia despite how much he loves it. “Can’t be myself there,” he explains. “When I’m get here, had to work for money for bring mama. Then we both work for my school. Now I get offer for good job, so I take care of us both.”

“Are they hiring you after your internship?” Kent asks. “I heard there’s an opening for a Junior Accountant.”

Alexei shakes his head. “No, another company. I’m recommend you for Junior Accountant.”

Kent goes still. “You did?”

“You work hard, very smart, good fit.” Alexei smiles at him. “I’m say they should pick you. If not you, Tamia. If not Tamia, interview someone else. Not Carl.”

“Oh,” Kent says. He feels one corner of his mouth quirk up, and he glances at his plate, feeling unaccountably flustered. “Thank you.”

They order a variety of meats to share, and Alexei teases Kent when he uses his phone to time how long they cook in the fondue pot. “Shrimp not kill you if you cook for one minute, fifty-five seconds,” he says playfully.

“Do you want to end this night at the hospital?” Kent banters back. “Or for me to get sick right here at the table? That would give all these couples something to talk about.”

Alexei rolls his eyes. “Not going to get sick if cook for five seconds wrong.”

That’s probably true, but Kent’s having flash of inspiration. “Hang on. Do you really want to give them something to talk about? We could stage a dramatic breakup. You know, have a big fight, I’ll storm out…”

He expects Alexei to enter into the spirit of the thing, to plot some ridiculous scenario even if they don’t go through with it. Instead, he shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “No, is Valentine’s Day, don’t want to ruin for everyone having nice time. Besides, Tamia see and then what we say at work tomorrow?”

“That’s true.”

“Besides,” Alexei continues, “how we kiss goodnight if we break up?”

“I don’t put out on the first date,” Kent quips, which isn’t necessarily true.

“No?” Alexei asks, meeting Kent’s eyes. “Not even little bit kiss?”

Kent chokes on his fully-cooked shrimp. After calming his sputtering with a drink of water, he asks, incredulously, “Wait, you’re serious?”

Alexei is watching him fondly, despite the fact that Kent nearly needed the Heimlich. “This is good date. Good date should end with a kiss. Unless you not want.”

Kent gapes across the table, but he’s interrupted from answering by Tamia, who arrives with dessert menus. Alexei enthusiastically chooses the turtle fondue, and Kent agrees without even looking at the options. Whatever, it’s chocolate; he’ll like it. When their order is placed, Alexei extends his hand for Kent’s again and says, “So, when you adopt Princess Kit? You get from shelter?”

Still dazed, Kent gives a rambling answer and tries not to worry about the fact that he’s a human disaster. He concentrates on speaking normally instead. On not fucking this up in the first ninety seconds. On just — fucking breathing like he’s doing it naturally.

The dessert course is decadent. There’s a fondue pot full of rich chocolate and caramel swimming with pecans, and a tray with everything from fruit to marshmallows to brownies. Alexei squeezes Kent’s hand, then drops it with a delighted exclamation. Tamia says, low, “I got you some extra strawberries.”

“Best,” Alexei says, beaming at her.

She grins back. “You guys look really happy. I hope this all works out for you.”

Even though Kent has already eaten his fill, the chocolate fondue is so amazing that he knows he won’t be leaving a crumb of food behind. It’s good, too, how vocal Alexei is in his enjoyment of it, his appreciative noises that nearly have Kent squirming in his seat. “Kroshka, did you try cheesecake?” Alexei asks. “No? Try.” He extends a dripping piece across the table.

Christ, Kent’s going to go up in fucking flames. He manages to play it cool as he takes the bite of cheesecake in his mouth, letting his lips slide back against the tines of the fork and darting his tongue out to catch a smear of chocolate. It’s delicious, and he gives a pleased hum and says, “yeah, that’s really good,” all while looking Alexei right in the eye.

Alexei just smirks, his gaze dark, like he knows what game Kent is playing but he enjoys it anyway.

Maybe they’re both playing the same game, Kent realizes, as Alexei sticks the fork in his mouth to suck off the remaining chocolate.

Back at the truck, instead of opening the passenger side door, Alexei backs Kent into it, his hands on Kent’s hips. “Sure I can’t have kiss good night?” he asks. “Just little one?”

“Shouldn’t that be when you drop me off?” Kent asks, but he tilts his head up.

Alexei answers him on a murmur: “If you want. Rather bring you home with me.”

“Then kiss me there.”

“Kiss you here first,” Alexei insists.

So Kent says, “Okay.”

*

When Kent arrives at work the next morning, he’s in Alexei’s truck and yesterday’s clothes. Beside him, Alexei is smug and cheerful as they walk toward the office. “I want take you out again,” he announces. “You say yes?”

Kent snorts. “You’re asking now? What, you had to make sure the sex would be good first?”

“No, sex with me always good,” Alexei replies, and Kent isn’t arguing with that, although his sample size is admittedly small. Hopefully it won’t be for long. “Maybe you tell Carl, he can spread around.”

“Hell no,” Kent says, laughing. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

*

Kent’s in the break room, getting a celebratory candy bar from the vending machine, when a voice floats in from the hall: “Did you hear about Kent?”

It’s Tamia this time. Kent jerks in surprise; she’d definitely noticed that he was wearing the same shirt as yesterday and given him a sly look, but he’d never imagined that she’d gossip about him.

Carl grunts out an annoyed-sounding nope.

Tamia continues anyway. “They offered him a Junior Accountant job, part time until he finishes school, then full time after that.”

Kent grins and fishes another dollar bill out of his wallet. Tamia deserves a candy bar too — she’d become friends with someone in HR, who had given Tamia’s resume to her sister, who worked somewhere that was looking for an accountant.

It’s definitely not to reward her for spreading rumors.

After all, it’s not a rumor if it’s true.

[whythehandbasket]

Of Tattoos and Flowers

This is my KuraRyou exchange gift for @alwaysdrowninginfeels 

I hope you like it!!! 

Ryousuke needs inspiration.

Can he find it in the green haired biker who owns the local flower shop? 

“Think, Ryou…,” Ryousuke murmured, tapping his pencil on the pad of paper in front of himself, the lack of well, anything, mocking him. Sighing, he closed his sketchbook and leaned on his elbow, chin on his hand as he looked out the window of his shop.

Second Base tattoo parlor was his baby, his income and his life. He’d built a reputation for quality, personalized tattoos that were guaranteed not to fade with time, each one carefully drawn and colored by himself. The actual tattooing part was just an afterthought for him, his real joy was the before—the art he composed and presented to the client, original and inked to their specifications. He didn’t do skulls or words in foreign languages that meant something much different than intended, he considered those things not worth his time and effort and made no attempts to hide it. His work was personalized and well executed, and his prices and reputation reflected that. This time, though, he was stuck.

Knowing he wasn’t going to get anything done until he found some inspiration, he flipped of his lights and left, locking the door behind himself, heading to somewhere he was sure to find amusement, even if the inspiration wasn’t forthcoming.

Pulling into the parking lot of the Battery Bakery and Coffee Shop, Ryousuke peered through the glass, verifying who was working behind the counter. Yep, there was Haruichi, his little brother, who was working part time while he was in college. Beside him was the resident smartass and coffee expert, Miyuki. Well. He knew he’d at least get a decent cup of coffee and maybe some advice. Climbing out of the car, he strolled through the door, inhaling the familiar smell of coffee and cinnamon.

“Welcome to the…” Haruichi started, cutting off when he looked at the door. “Hi, Aniki! I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.”

Miyuki looked up from his clipboard when he heard Haruichi’s greeting. “Ahh, it’s the elder Kominato! What can I get for you this afternoon?” Leaning on the counter he spoke softly, motioning Ryousuke near. “I got a shipment of Kona beans in today, was just going to try them out. You in?”

Ryousuke nodded, stepping up to the counter. “I’d love a cup.” He was always happy to drink any of Miyuki’s varied coffee bean acquisitions, knowing how much attention he paid to the origin and roasting. He was a bit of a snob about them and Ryousuke was willing to take advantage of that whenever the opportunity arose.

“What else can we get you?” Haruichi asked as someone popped out of the back of the store.

“Onii-san!” Eijun, the ‘baker’ part of the Battery waved as he bounded forward. “I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

“About to be so much better with this coffee,” Ryousuke said, greeting the enthusiastic man with a small smile.

“Ohhhh! I’ve got the perfect thing,” Eijun said. “Give me a second.” He ducked back into the kitchen, returning just as Miyuki set the freshly brewed coffee on the counter. “Here, my newest creation. It should go well with that coffee.”

“What are you even saying?” Miyuki glared at him. “Nobody wants to dilute the taste of good coffee with baked goods; you can’t appreciate the subtle flavors. Save it for the morning traffic who doctor it up with cream and sugar and don’t understand real flavor.”

“Miyuki Kazuya!” Eijun started, laying the plate he’d brought out onto the counter. Ryousuke was intrigued by the cupcake sitting on it. “This is a pineapple cupcake with coconut frosting, all things that are sourced from the same place that coffee is. They’ll go together because they grow together.”

“How does that even make sense?” Miyuki snarked, turning away from his seething boyfriend to take a sip of his coffee. “This is...I’ll have to remember this supplier, I’m impressed.”

“Won’t you even try it?” Eijun asked plaintively after Ryousuke saw Haruichi making a sad face, coaching him.

Miyuki looked at the sad eyes and pout and sighed, surrendering. “I guess I can try a bite. But if it doesn’t—” He stopped in mid-sentence when Eijun let out a whoop and grabbed a knife off the back bar to slice the cake into quarters.

“If this is good, I’m adding it to our regular rotation,” Eijun said, handing a quarter to each of the people there.

Miyuki looked at the cake warily before turning his attention back to his coffee. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I gotta keep the idiot happy.” He popped his cake into his mouth and chewed, swallowing.

“Now try your coffee,” Eijun said.

Miyuki sipped, eyes widening. “You’re...not wrong,” he admitted reluctantly. “That is a good pairing.”

“Toldja,” Eijun crowed. “It’s on the menu tomorrow.”

“That’s really good, Eijun-kun,” Haruichi said after eating his slice.

“Thank you, Harucchi!” Eijun beamed at him.

Ryousuke nodded his agreement. “Very good,” he said. “As is the coffee.”

“Thank you, Onii-san!” Eijun was practically quivering with happiness.

Miyuki poured more coffee in their cups. “I’m sure you didn’t come by just to be a guinea pig for Eijun’s baking experiments,” he said. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Actually, yes,” Ryousuke said. “I find myself in a bit of a quandary with a client of mine, who wants a very specific group of flowers as a tattoo.”

“I didn’t think you did flowers,” Eijun said with a frown.

“I don’t generally...I won’t do sakura or red roses or any of the other clichéd things,” Ryou agreed. “But these are unusual and I was...intrigued when she asked for them.”

“Can’t you just look them up online?” Haruichi asked.

“I’ve done that, but it’s hard to imagine them together,” Ryousuke said.

Eijun’s eyes widened. “Mochi!”

Ryousuke shook his head. “Are you getting another baking inspiration?”     

Miyuki laughed, elbowing Eijun. “No, no. We have a friend, Kuramochi, who owns a flower shop. What I think Eijun meant is that you should go there and get a bouquet, that way you can see how the flowers work together.”

Eijun nodded furiously.

“Buy a bouquet?” Ryousuke said, thinking. “That’s not a bad idea, I think that would work.” He smirked at Eijun. “Where would I find this Kuramochi?”

 Pulling up to the curb in front of the Shortstop flower shop, Ryousuke eyed the black Harley Davidson parked outside warily. He’d never heard of a biker gang hanging out in a flower shop, but there were stranger things in this world. He climbed out of his car and made his way through the front door. Haruichi seemed to know this Kuramochi person as well and all three of them vouched for him and his flowers.

Stepping through the door, he was assaulted by the smell of fresh flowers, the green of growing plants, and the undertone of decay that comes with anything that’s alive. He looked around curiously, noticing the neat plants in their rows, the buckets of brightly colored flowers in the coolers, a few pre-made bouquets waiting for those in a hurry or who don’t know quite what to choose. He wove his way to the back of the store where a man who was clearly the owner of the bike he’d seen outside was sitting behind a counter, reading the newspaper.

Green hair, black t-shirt and jeans, silver earrings...the last thing he’d expect to see in a flower shop. Maybe this was a biker’s hideout?

The man behind the counter looked up when he stopped, eyes widening in surprise when he sees Ryousuke, who smirked at him.

“With that hair, you’ve got to be Haruichi’s big brother,” the man—Kuramochi, Ryousuke thinks, Kuramochi Youichi—said.

“And if I am?”

“Nothing,” Kuramochi said, shaking his head. “Just finding your place in the world.”

“Kominato Ryousuke,” he introduced himself.

“Kuramochi Youichi,” the other replied. “How can I help you?”

“I need some flowers,” Ryousuke started.

“You came to the right place, then.”

“Good to know,” Ryousuke deadpanned. “I was worried I was in a biker’s hideout.”

“Wait, what?” Kuramochi looked confused, until he noticed Ryousuke staring pointedly at his leather jacket hanging on the wall with his helmet. “Oh! No, I just like to ride. Have you ever been on one?”

“I value my life too much.”

“You should try it, you may like it.”

“I may,” Ryousuke shrugged. “But for now, flowers?”

Kuramochi jumped to his feet, cheeks reddening. “Yes! Of course! What can I get for you?”

“I need orange lilies, yellow carnations and butterfly weed. A black rose if you have it,” Ryousuke recited, not noticing Kuramochi’s ever widening eyes.

“Wow, who pissed you off?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Those flowers. Together, they basically say ‘Fuck You’,” Kuramochi explained.

Ryousuke laughed harder than he had in recent memory. “That’s perfect. But no, it’s not for me.” He slanted Kuramochi a smirk. “I’m a little more...straightforward in my dealings with those who upset me.”

Kuramochi chuckled as he stuck his head in a cooler, retrieving the flowers he needed. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit,” he said. “I’ve heard much about you from Haruichi and the idiot.”

“The idiot?” Ryousuke said. “You mean Eijun? That’s hardly fair, is it? He’s not the brightest thing, but what he does, what he cares about, he shines at.”

“You’re right,” Kuramochi agreed. “He does.” He shut the door of the cooler he was digging in and headed back to the counter. “So if you’re not pissed at someone, what do you need these for?”

“I have a customer who is apparently pissed at someone. Or the whole world, I don’t know which. Either way, she’s requested a tattoo with these flowers and I wanted to get some so I can draw them correctly.”

“That’s right!” Kuramochi said. “You own Second Base, right?”

“That’s my shop.”

“I’ve heard great things about it,” he said, wrapping the flowers in protective paper and adding a flower preservative packet to the bouquet. “I’ve been meaning to stop in; I just haven’t had the time. The shop keeps me jumping most of the time.”

“I’m sure,” Ryousuke said. “They have a habit of doing that.” He fished out his wallet and handed over a credit card to pay for the flowers. While Kuramochi ran the card, he wandered around a bit, looking at his various offerings.

“Here you go,” Kuramochi said, handing him back his card. “I hope to see you soon.”

“You just might,” Ryousuke said. “Have a good night, Kuramochi.”

“Good night, Kominato-san,” Kuramochi answered as Ryousuke walked out the door.

Looking at the counter, Kuramochi saw a lone white violet and picked it up, intending to put it back in its place when he noticed the paper wrapped around it.

Opening it, he saw a phone number.

On a white violet.

He smiled.

Let’s take a chance.

[the-everqueen]

a long long time ago, i promised @stellerssong camping fic. here it finally is, with much love: 4k of wolf shenanigans and me dragging the founders. this is titled “werewolf gimmick” in my docs, but has very little to do with the tmg song - mostly i just found the dichotomy hilarious.

Thanks to general panic over midterms in the class he TAs, John gets home late that evening. Alex doesn’t jump to greet him like usual: he’s on the couch, eyes glued to his laptop screen, claws tapping at the keys. John toes off his shoes and sets down his backpack. “Have you moved at all since I left?”

“Mm?” Alex flicks an ear. “Oh. Yeah, we’re out of bologna.”

“And cheese.” John rummages around in the fridge for the salmon he’d set to marinate that morning. He has brussel sprouts he could roast, but that takes so long. Maybe he’ll make a salad instead. “Hey, Alex, would you eat kale?”

“Depends. Is there bacon in it?”

So, no. John takes out the greens anyway; he can have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow. The salmon just needs a quick sear, and he boils some minute rice. Fast, simple, nutritious: the kind of dinner he learned to make in his undergrad and thought he’d never have to cook again. Back before the — before Alex was a werewolf, John might have asked him to make quesadillas or breakfast for dinner, the two meals he could be guaranteed to not burn. But last week Alex tried to cook pancakes as a surprise and ended up eating a dozen raw eggs in the process. John found him licking the remains of the last one off the counter.

Alex is now exempt from kitchen-related chores.

John hands him a plate, sans kale. There are some battles even he won’t fight. “How’s the article coming?”

“Got another round of edits.” Alex snaps up a bite of salmon, not bothering with utensils. “I might be able to finish it tonight. Already started on the next project — the editor said she’s looking for a piece for December.”

“You’ve been working really hard.”

Alex snorts. “Yeah, well. Gotta make up for those full moons.”

“That’s one day a month.”

He nibbles at the rice, swallows down another piece of salmon. John waits for further argument, but Alex stares into space, thinking about his edits or maybe the neighbor’s cat. Ever since he got that piece published in Fast Company, he’s been writing non-stop, aiming for something bigger or more permanent. John is glad he’s recovered his sense of purpose — Alex, listless on the couch, eyes dull as he watches Cesar Millan videos, should be an aberration, not the norm. But then John is starting to think Alex is going too far in the other direction: working every second he’s awake, like he has to be productive or else he isn’t worth anything. He has bags under his eyes that aren’t just patches of dark fur growing on his face.

Last semester was — well, there isn’t a word to summarize it. Alex getting bitten, Alex dropping out of school, Alex changing in so many ways, obvious and subtle, all of them uncanny valley familiar. He deserves a break, a real one, a chance to not worry about looking human and just be able to relax.

A vacation.

John takes their plates to the sink. Alex has licked his dish clean and returned to his article, ears perked at attention. His laptop is perched on the arm of the couch, his hips twisted to the side to accommodate his tail, which thumps in time to whatever’s going on inside his brain. John grabs his own computer and shoots a quick message to Harrison: you have a tent, yeah? could i borrow it?

***

“We’re going camping,” John announces over breakfast.

Alex wrinkles his nose. “Like, today? Don’t you have class?”

“No, not today. This weekend.”

“This weekend.”

“Yeah.”

“Full moon.”

“Yes?” Alex is giving him a blank look, and John presses on. “You finished your edits, and you won’t have thumbs. I booked the campsite, Harrison is loaning me his tent. I just thought —  you’ve been working so hard, and you deserve a break, and we haven’t done anything special since, well. You know.”

“Since the bite.”

“Yeah.”

Alex picks at the cleft in his lip. At this point in the cycle he doesn’t have much that could be called eyebrows, since his face is mostly dark fur, but the tawny spots on his brow ridges draw together in something like confusion. “So you thought camping?”

“I can’t exactly take a wolf to the spa. Besides, you could use a change of scenery.”

Alex shrugs. “You’ve seen one tree, you’ve seen them all.”

“That’s not even remotely true.”

“Which one of us is the naturalist here?”

“I’m going to vet school, Alex.”

“Yeah you are.” His mouth falls into what’s probably intended to be a salacious grin but instead looks very canine, his long tongue hanging over his teeth.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m dating a future doctor!”

John rolls his eyes. Swallowing down the last of his tea, he wraps his arms around Alex and buries his face in the fur poking above the collar of his hoodie. “I heard he even makes house calls,” he murmurs.

“Now who has the bad lines?” Alex asks. But he shivers as John presses a kiss to the side of his face, and his tail thwacks against John’s leg. “I’ve never been camping.”

“You never — oh.” He knows bits and pieces about Alex’s childhood, collected from hints dropped like breadcrumbs, but he feels stupid that this is the first time he’s realizing Alex probably didn’t have annual family vacations as a kid. “Well, I can do the setup and teardown myself, so that’s not a problem. Maybe you can catch dinner?”

“Oh yeah, cause I do that all the time.”

“You caught that squirrel.”

Alex shoots a doleful glance at the faded stain on the living room carpet. Two months later, and John still hasn’t managed to scrub out the evidence of Alex’s anniversary present. Who would have thought squirrel guts would be the Achilles’ heel to every cleaning product on the market?

One ear perks and the other tilts down in an expression John has come to understand as extreme skepticism. Alex says, “Let’s hope your surprise turns out better than mine did.”

***

Alex might be dubious about the concept of vacation, but that doesn’t keep him from howling along to Lorde as they drive down the interstate. Not quite in tune, though he makes up for it with enthusiasm. According to his phone, it’s a five-hour drive to the camp, and since Alex can’t pass the time with an extended rant, John has Pandora and a half dozen chew toys to keep him occupied. Alex “sings” along to the techno-pop, prods John into telling him about the latest gossip in the animal husbandry department, and manages to wrestle the squeaker out of his stuffed turtle — all in the span of an hour. Hour two, a Prius rides next to them for a couple miles, a grinning pit bull in the backseat, and Alex goes wild, barking and clawing at the door. When the car pulls ahead, he grumbles.

John takes pity on him and rolls down the window.

Alex sticks his head outside, face breaking into a canine grin. His tongue lolls and flaps in the breeze, and he laughs, an incongruous human sound.

“Having fun there?” John asks.

His tail thumps on the center console.

***

It’s afternoon when they get to the campground, their arrival delayed by a quick lunch stop. Alex has thumbs enough to open the door, but his hips have given up on being bipedal and he clambers out of the car on all fours, still wearing his Columbia hoodie. John hauls out his backpack, the tent, and the cooler. “Ready?”

Alex paws at the cooler and whines.

“It’s fine, I got it.” John hefts the gear for emphasis. “See? Marta used to make me carry her shit on vacations. Dad always sided with her, too, said I had to be a gentleman. Like she didn’t scare half the boys at school with her left hook.”

Alex snickers.

Workout benefits of being the packhorse aside, John is glad their campsite isn’t far from the parking area. He dumps their gear in the center of the cleared ground and rolls his shoulders, looking around. The weather forecast predicted a warm weekend, but cold nights in the mountains, meaning the fire pit should be useful for more than just roasting marshmallows. Through the trees, their neighbor’s tent is visible — must be a family, he can hear kids shrieking and laughing. Alex’s ears swivel in the direction of the sound.

“You can explore, if you want. I gotta set up the tent.”

He cocks his head.

“You won’t get lost, you can — I dunno — smell your way back? Just don’t go too far. Also maybe take off the hoodie.”

Alex wriggles out of his sweatshirt, with some help from John. Shakes out his fur. It’s not quite full moon, but close enough that Alex passes for some sort of wolf-dog hybrid. Only John would recognize that his thumbs haven’t yet receded into dewclaws, or what the awkward slope of his shoulders means.

Alex scratches at his belly with his hind foot.

“Oh, wait —” John digs around in his backpack until he finds the leather collar. The tags jangle as he fastens it around Alex’s neck, and his boyfriend makes a disgruntled sound. “There. Looks like you belong to someone.”

A warning growl.

“Well, you’re mine, aren’t you? Don’t want you getting picked up by some cute park ranger.”

Alex swipes a lick across John’s cheek and goes bounding into the trees.

Turns out pitching a tent is not like riding a bike — it’s been years since John went camping, and he had at least one other person to help him. He wrestles with one stubborn corner, grateful that Alex isn’t here to watch and laugh at him. By the time he rolls out the sleeping bags and stashes their gear, he’s sweating and the sun has crawled closer to the horizon.

Childish screams alternate with a familiar bark. John wanders over to their neighbor’s campsite and finds Alex playing with two little kids, sisters if their matching shirts and corkscrew curls are any indication. The younger one toddles after Alex, her arms outstretched, and he lopes just out of reach, reverses to dodge the older girl. His tail wags.

“Nice dog, is he yours?”

John turns to the couple sitting in fold-out chairs, watching the kids. “Yeah. I’m John, we’re —” he gestures back at the trees “— right next door.”

“Mattie,” the woman says, holding out her hand. “This is my husband, Thom.”

The man gives John a considering look. “What brings you out here?”

“Well, uh, it’s spring break.”

“You’re a student?”

“Grad student. Vet school.”

Thom nods. “So you like the outdoors.”

“Yeah. And Alex needs a lot of exercise.” John glances at his boyfriend, who’s getting belly rubs from the girls.

“I didn’t think wolf-hybrids were a thing in California,” Mattie says, not accusing, just curious.

“He’s not — we don’t know what breed he is? Got him at the local shelter.”

“Well-trained,” Thom observes.

“Ha. Well. You should see what he did to the couch. But he likes kids.”

“I’ve heard larger breeds tend to be really social.” Mattie adjusts her sunglasses. “We were thinking of getting a pet, since the girls have been asking. But I’m not sure how much time I can afford to train a dog when I can’t even get this one here to make the bed.” She swats playfully at her husband. “I swear, he gets up at six in the morning just to get out of fixing the sheets.”

“I’m checking the temperature!”

“You’re a philosophy professor.”

“Global warming is a real issue that affects us all.”

She rolls her eyes. “See? No help.”

“Pet ownership is a serious commitment,” John says, relieved to have the conversation move away from the subject of his boyfriend. “You wouldn’t believe how many animals we get at the shelter because someone didn’t realize their cute little puppy would grow into a bigger dog.”

From there the talk revolves around hypoallergenic dogs and finding a reputable breeder. At some point Alex wanders over, panting. He rubs his face on John’s leg, and John pets the tawny spot between his eyes. “Hey, ba — boy.”

Alex snorts.

Thom gives them a funny look.

John blushes and opens his mouth to — explain? deny that he’s dating his dog? — but the girls choose that moment to interrupt, the younger climbing into Mattie’s lap and burying her face in her stomach.

“Oh dear, someone needs a nap.” Mattie pats her back soothingly. “Thom, you want to get her blankie out?”

That’s their cue to leave. John pats Alex’s side. “We should go. Those hot dogs I brought won’t cook themselves.”

“Sure,” Thom says. “We’ll see you around.”

At least Alex holds in his (suspiciously human sounding) laughter until after they get to their tent.

***

“Alex, no — drop it!”

John grabs for him and Alex dodges, running to the other end of the campsite, the bag of marshmallows dangling from his teeth. He drops it, not for John, but to paw at the hole cut into one corner, trying to make it wider. Sugar smell, want want want. He bites at the opening and manages to snag one marshmallow before John snatches the bag from him.

“These are for s’mores,” he says, exasperated.

Alex grumbles. What’s the difference? They’re going to be eaten regardless, and Alex can’t have chocolate. Graham crackers are bland and not made for people whose canines evolved to better tear apart flesh and bones.

“We’re gonna toast them.” Oh, of course, that human fascination with cooking food. John continues, “Besides, you can’t be hungry, you ate an entire package of hot dogs.”

Like that’s ever stopped Alex from going through the trash. He whines, giving his best pout.

“Nope. That’s not working.”

He gets down on his belly and rolls over.

“You can wait the literal two minutes it’ll take to brown these.”

Fine. He slinks over to where he abandoned his book and lays down with a huff.

Three minutes later, he’s licking gooey marshmallow off John’s lips.

***

John has a hike planned the next morning. Nothing too long — Alex might have better stamina than him, but he hates exercise as much as he did when he was human, fetch and the occasional game of “chase me around the living room” being the exceptions. But it’s cool and green out, and Alex preens at the attention from other hikers, and when they reach the end of the trail there’s a waterfall.

Alex jumps onto a flat rock and tilts his face toward the spray. His whiskers twitch, eyelashes fluttering and collecting little droplets. John sits down next to him, shrugging off the backpack. “Having fun there?”

He wags his tail. Then his expression turns considering. John has just enough time to register his boyfriend tensing before Alex leaps into the water with a terrific splash.

Since the bite, Alex hasn’t been a big fan of baths, but he likes water — at least, more than he seemed to as a human. He paddles around for ten or so minutes before he climbs back onto the rock and shakes out his fur. John grimaces at the drops that spatter his face and shirt. Their tent is going to smell like wet dog tonight.

As if reading his mind, Alex flops into his lap, rubbing his muzzle on John’s cargo shorts. He looks up, fur sticking out in wet spikes. John bursts out laughing.

“I brought peanut butter bars,” he says. “Eliza gave me her recipe. I might’ve left them in the oven too long, though.”

Alex snuffles at the backpack, tail frisking.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

***

The thing about the outdoors is, it gets dark sooner than in the cities. Not that Alex really cares about the dark: his night vision is good enough he could read by the full moon light (theoretically, if his eyesight wasn’t fucked for small type and the Roman alphabet), and he usually goes to bed around midnight even when he’s not working on a project. But John is human, and worn out from their day of hiking and swimming and playing tug-of-war with his shirt; once the fire dies down and the stars come out, he crawls into his sleeping bag and promptly falls asleep.

Alex turns in a circle, settles down on his blanket. Waits. John’s breathing is deep and even. Soothing, in the general mate is content, mate is safe sense, but it’s not getting Alex any closer to rest. He crosses his paws, flicks an ear. Outside the tent crickets chirp, an owl hoots. Something rustles through the underbrush.

That gets his attention. He lifts his nose, scents the air. Musk smell, animal smell. His mouth waters. A twig snaps in the distance. His ears perk and swivel. Big animal, close, sniff it out, run it down.

He glances at John. Mate is sleeping, mate won’t notice if Alex goes out for a quick hunt. He’ll be back soon, maybe bring a share of the kill with him.

Alex creeps out of the tent on silent paw pads.

***

The first thing John registers is that there’s something warm and wet on his face.

He forces his eyes open. There’s a dark blur in his vision; it takes a second for him to focus and realize it’s Alex’s muzzle. Alex noses at him again and whines. John sits up, blinking hard. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

Alex prances in place. The fur on his face is matted and slick, the rest of his coat disheveled. Where has he been? “Are you hurt? What happened?”

He grunts and bounds out of the tent. John follows in his t-shirt and boxers.

Outside, Alex has picked up a large, misshapen stick. No, not a stick — he lopes toward John with the thing in his mouth, and it’s not a stick, it’s a leg, it’s a fucking deer leg, the hoof still intact, and Alex shoves it at him.

John stumbles back with a yell. “What the FUCK?”

Alex pauses, his tail curling between his legs in confusion. He whines around the mouthful of animal carcass; he hasn’t dropped the leg, and his teeth glint in the moonlight.

“What the — where did you even find that?” Alex huffs, and John feels his stomach swoop. “You killed a deer? What the fuck, Alex? How —”

“HEY, what’s going on?”

A bright beam of light cuts across the campsite. John raises a hand to his eyes.

“Excuse me,” the woman says. She’s wearing a khaki uniform and a green jacket with RANGER in bold letters on the side. She aims her flashlight at them, and Alex cringes, moving closer to John. “Would you like to explain what happened?”

“Uh…” John brushes a stray curl out of his eyes. His hand comes away dark, and he realizes the wetness on his face is blood. Shit, he must look like a mess. What is a park ranger doing out here this late? Did the neighbors hear them and call someone? Or maybe she’s on patrol? John didn’t think park rangers did night patrols.

“Sir.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” John gives her the most charming smile he can muster. “My, um. My dog — I guess he found some dead animal. Just, startled me, is all.”

“This is your dog?” The ranger frowns.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She shoots him a Look. “You know wolfdogs are illegal in the state of California.”

“He’s licensed. And — uh, I got him at a shelter? I think he’s a shepherd mix.”

“Uh-huh.” She turns her light on Alex. He drops the deer leg and licks his lips, folding his ears down submissively. He looks at her with wide, sincere eyes. Her face softens.

John interrupts, “Yeah, so. Are we good here?”

“You said he found it?” The ranger glances dubiously at the leg on the ground, mostly intact and smeared with fresh blood. Alex inches closer and butts his head against her thigh with a whine. “Hey, boy,” she says, holding out her fingers for him to sniff. “Well, out-of-season hunting results in a fine. But, since you weren’t hunting… I suppose I can let you off with a warning. Just this once.”

John sighs, relieved.

“But make sure you keep…”

“Alex. His name’s Alex.”

“... Right. Keep Alex from wandering beyond the campsite without supervision. There’s bears and wolves around here, you know.”

Alex coughs. John glares at him.

“Oh, and make sure to get rid of that.” She points at the deer leg with her boot. Grimaces. “You don’t want to attract scavengers.”

“Sure thing.”

“If you want, I could…”

Alex grabs his prize by the ankle, tenses like a puppy ready to dash off with its newest toy.

“I think we can handle it,” John says.

“Then you boys have a good night.” She waggles her fingers at Alex. He frisks his tail.

John waits until he hears her driving off to address Alex. “Did you really have to do the whole puppy eyes thing?”

He snorts.

“Yeah, thanks for getting us out of a fine. You wanna get rid of that thing?”

Alex slaps his paws on the ground.

“No, no, I don’t want to play with it.”

He runs a few feet, dragging the leg with him. John sighs. Moves to rub his face, remembers the blood, thinks better of it. “Fine. Just… bury it, at least? Don’t bring it in the tent.”

Alex trots off to the other side of the campsite and settles down, gripping the leg between his paws so he can better gnaw on the protruding bone. John climbs back into the tent, puts the pillow over his head to muffle the sounds of his boyfriend eating a deer’s leg. At least he’s enjoying himself.

***

One perk of dating a werewolf is that John never wakes up cold.

Sometime during the night, Alex wormed into his unzipped sleeping bag and laid down next to him. His face is buried in John’s chest, and he makes little grunts and whuffs as he sleeps, ears flicking. John rubs the velvet fur of one ear between his fingers — it’s damp but not tacky with dried blood. Alex must’ve washed off after he finished his snack. John feels a warm flush of affection, despite the unsexy smell of wet dog. He presses a kiss to his head.

Alex stirs and squints at him.

“I was thinking we could go for another long hike,” John whispers, “but maybe we’ll just sleep in? I can cook sausage for breakfast.”

Alex closes his eyes and snuggles closer.

***

“Y’all leaving?”

John shoves his sleeping bag into the backpack. “Yeah, I have to TA a class tomorrow and I still need to finish grading their midterms.” Also Alex is starting to get his thumbs back and twisted the lid off the tea thermos this morning, but it’s not like John can mention that.

Thom laughs. “Just give ‘em all a B-minus.”

“Well, it’s a lab-based class, so it’s kind of important they can do the math.”

He waves a hand. “Grades are just an artificial metric for determining whether students grasp the basic concepts.”

Yeah, and John doesn’t think Ethan realizes he solved question thirteen with the formula for quadratic equations, which has nothing to do with the test. At least Ethan is a double-major; maybe he’s better at bassoon performance.

“Are you teaching this semester?” he asks.

“Nah, on sabbatical. Supposed to be finishing a book on Voltaire, but…” He makes a vague gesture. “My best work is more last-minute. Besides, I want the girls growing up in the outdoors, you know? Our lives are so industrialized these days. Is your dog reading a book?”

John glances over his shoulder. Alex snaps his copy of Gibbons shut with a guilty look.

“Oh. Um. He must’ve… gotten it out of my stuff.”

“Huh.” Thom stares at him for a moment, then shrugs. “Well, the girls will miss him. He’s a good dog. Seems real clever.”

“He is,” John says, a bit too enthusiastically. “Erm. I have some stuff for s’mores left over, if you and Mattie want a treat for the girls? I can’t eat it all myself.”

“Sure.” Thom accepts the half-full bag of marshmallows as well as the uneaten graham crackers and chocolate bars. “I’ll tell them you said bye. Gotta extend the nap for as long as possible — I can’t believe Mattie got them to lie down in the first place, their schedules have been out the window this vacation. You should swing by the philosophy department sometime. Bring the dog, I’m sure he’d have more to say on Foucault than my upperclassmen.”

“I’m… certain he would.”

Alex barks in agreement. John tries to imagine a class discussion on French philosophers being led by an opinionated werewolf.

“There you go, open-invite. Where’s the place you work? The girls are gonna want a dog after this weekend, might as well go local.”

John gives him the name of the shelter.

“You boys have a safe drive.”

***

Hour three of the ride back, John makes Alex drive, claiming he’s too tired to focus on the road. Alex thinks that’s a weak excuse for poor night vision, but since John organized the trip and loaded their gear into the car, he supposes he can do this thing. Even if he doesn’t particularly like driving anymore: his new chase impulse means he’s tense behind the wheel, ears swiveling every time a car zooms past. His paw pads don’t get much traction on the gas pedal, either, so he cruises just above the speed limit.

A compact car pulls alongside him. The driver taps on their horn — probably wants to flip him off, the asshole, he’s trying his best here, it’s not his fault he can’t wear shoes —

He sneaks a glance. The woman behind the wheel gapes, slack-jawed.

John mumbles, sinks down so his face is buried in his sweater. Alex returns his focus to the road. Warm, pleasant feeling inside him: he and his boyfriend had a romantic weekend, and it wasn’t even new moon.

He drives them home.

[eyesaremosaics]

Thoughts on Aries ?

Sorry this took so long, I haven’t been inspired to write lately. My first love was an Aries, as were three of my roommates/best friends, so I have a soft spot in my heart for them. Even though most of those situations ended poorly.

Aries generally get along best with the opposite sex in my experience. They see the same sex as competition, often unconsciously. Aries men are very childlike in their attraction. They love and admire women the way a little boy feels about their mother, or a prepubescent boy noticing girls for the first time. Their whole being lights up when they see you, and often they get nervous and sheepish around the object of their affections. Aries women have the same childish enthusiasm, yet they often do the pursuing.

What I love about Aries, is their nobility. The best way to describe the core of an Aries is a knight in shining armor. Both men and women. Aries are ruled by Mars, so they are warriors. They have strong energy and enthusiasm. Even if they are tempered with water or earth in their chart, there is still this dynamic energy that emits from them. The through line of Aries is: “I do.” They often act impulsively, or in the moment.

Occasionally this impulsivity gets them into trouble. They can sometimes appear brash, crude, or insensitive. The truth is that they have little tolerance or time for bullshit. They speak their mind, and they don’t beat around the bush. You will always know where you stand with an Aries. My Aries lover saw a dress of mine and his first words were: “it looks like you’re wearing a giant napkin.”

One has to have a good sense of humor to understand Aries. They are naturally combative, but playfully so. Everything is an unconscious game for Aries, they love witty banter (think screwball comedy from the 1930’s, Charlie Chaplin was an Aries). Harassing each other back and fourth is the way to know an Aries likes you.

Aries often has this complex of having to be terminally unique, or devils advocate. Many Aries I have known will argue against something they don’t even believe in, just for the thrill of the argument. Aries needs to win. Their whole self worth, self concept is wrapped up in “winning”. The deepest core fear of an Aries, is that they will not be loved, even though a winner.

Aries fight for the underdog, they love impossible odds, lost causes. Strife pushes them to grow, and they work well under pressure. When the heat is on they don’t waste any time. They will get it done, and most effectively. They are fiercely loyal to their friends, and when an Aries cares for you, they will melt your heart with the purity of their love. It comes to you unconditional, as a newborn baby smiling at you for the first time.

Aries start out as idealists, and are hopeless romantics. Hard knocks in life deeply wound Aries, and may embitter them as adults. They are so disappointed that things are not as they pictured them to be. This can be a problem in the romantic sphere, because they have this rosy picture perfect perception of how love should be, and when that illusion shatters, they lose interest quickly and fall deeper into the despair of disappointment.

They put objects of their affections on a pedestal, and their idols are always falling.

Aries are very creative. They often have hidden genius or talent which comes naturally to them, almost as though they were merely a vessel to embody this gift. They are often skilled artists, wether it be as a musician, an illustrator, painter, craftsman, jewelry maker, photographer, dancer, etc.

My first roommate when I moved out at 18 was Sabrina, who was a tattoo artist. She was a true Aries, born right in the middle of the sign, with lots of Gemini in her chart. This made her very fussy, she was passively angry a lot of the time, sarcastic, always cracking jokes or making amusing assessments and observations about others. Her hair was all the colors of the rainbow, she changed them often depending on her mood.

She had every part of her body pierced at some point, and was covered in tattoos. The Gemini made her a bit of a gossip, but she was hilarious. Sabrina didn’t have many girl friends, so she really treasured me. I think I reminded her a lot of her mother (who was also a libra), and it showed. Aries are uniquely thoughtful. Everyday I would come home, and find her sitting up waiting for me. Her whole being would light up when I opened the door and she would cry: “Megan! You’re home!”

It felt like having a child greet their parent excitedly when they get home from work. The joy is so genuine. It’s really sweet. She would slap a picture on the coffee table and push it toward me. “Megan! I drew you!” She was an illustrator, and so talented. Looking at her drawing melted my heart, she made me look much prettier than I am, and that was the way she saw me.

My other roommate Jasmine, was a make up artist. Ironically, Sabrina and Jasmine were best friends all through high school, but broke up senior year because Sabrina stole Jasmine’s boyfriend. I asked Sabrina why she did that, and she looked very hurt in her eyes. She smiled and looked to the floor, before saying: “jasmine always wanted to be… A ‘pretty’ girl.”

Basically, jasmine had been ditching Sabrina for 'cooler’ friends. This really wounded her, so she retaliated by taking Jasmine’s boyfriend. Jasmine held her grudge toward Sabrina forever. She refused to even talk to her. It wasn’t about the guy for jasmine, so much as it was about betrayal of trust. Jasmine had a lot of Taurus and Capricorn in her chart, so she could be a little more shy than Sabrina. They both had an awesome laugh, especially jasmine. Her laughter sparkled through the whole room, and was the most distinctive thing about her.

When I moved to SF, it was because of Jazzy. She worked at MAC, and I did online orders for Nordstrom. One day we met on the escalator, and she asked me: “do you want to move to the city with me?” “Why would I want to move to San Francisco?”She looked at me incredulously and said: “why WOULDN’T you want to move here??”

All Aries women I know have masculine energy, even if they dress and look very feminine. They are assertive, with strong opinions. If they don’t like you–they will make it known. They get bored easily, and restless. Aries needs to constantly be doing things, traveling, creating, going to events or pursuing hobbies. They often have many hobbies. Also they have a high libido, and can be a bit boy crazy. They identify with men pretty easily, they feel more comfortable around them in many ways.

Sabrina would fold origami when she was anxious. I could always tell when she was having a hard time, because little origami creatures would freckle the landscape of our living room.

Aries have rose colored glasses when they are in love, more so than any other sign, even Pisces. They see the beauty and potential in you that not even you yourself can see. They aren’t always good at words, or expressing themselves verbally. Their actions, their creations are the true insight into their inner life.

Some Aries aren’t necessarily an artist, but they will have a flair for whatever it is that they do. For example, Jazzy wasn’t a painter, a writer, or an artist in the conventional sense, but she was a make up artist. She could paint people’s faces in such a way that she brought out their inner beauty and confidence. That’s what Aries is all about, empowerment and they want to serve as an inspiration to others.

My first love, he could do it all. He played every instrument, he was a filmmaker, a set designer, light technician, painter, illustrator, and a songwriter. He had this non stop flow of creative ideas coming to him all the time. He probably… Is the funniest person I ever met. He used to have me in stitches laughing so hard.

Literal conversation we had once: Me: “you’re not cool enough to be Oscar the grouch.”Aries: “oh yeah? Well you’re just NOT COOL.”Me: “yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge.”Aries: “I did. And he sentencing you to 8 to 10 years of… STILL LAME.”

Or I asked him what his favorite color was, and being the contrary Indian that he is, he said clear.

Me: clear is not a colorAries: yeah huh, there are colors in the rainbow you can’t see. Me: yeah, but they’re not clear. Clear is transparency, it’s a state of being. It’s not a color.

He just kept talking over with me, and refused to accept defeat. He was generally in playful spirits, but he had a lot of sadness and tragedy in his life. I find this to be true of a lot of Aries. They smile through their broken heart. The sad clown.

Aries hate to be wrong, and they hate to be left out. Deep inside they feel like people don’t notice or value them, which is why they seek validation for their accomplishments or just their appearance in some cases, they just want to know that they are still relevant, that they are seen and valued. It’s a bit hard for them to admit, but they need people. They are similar to libra in that way.

You will never be bored with Aries, they are always ahead of you, always pioneering. In fact, their pioneering spirit is what I admire the most about them. Though if they are not careful they can dip into vanity. At times they can become self indulgent when they are licking their wounds. They are painters, painting themselves a lovely world. They say the world either breaks or hardens the heart, this is especially true of Aries. They go one way or the other. They either receive enough stimuli to support their dreams to keep them optimistic champions, or they are knocked down so many times that it makes them bitter and hard–even bullies on occasion.

This is a very effective smokescreen for their insecurities. Their brass offensive exterior is actually just a little kid who feels hurt they were picked last in the second grade.

They will walk through fire or take a billet for their loved ones. They will speak up for those less fortunate than them that they identify with. If they have Taurus or Scorpio in their chart, it will make them darker, more of a brooding personality with trust issues. Scorpio in particular can give them a vindictive flair.

The dark side of Aries lies in this feeling of futility. They either feel elated and inspired to make a difference in the world, or they feel abandoned by it, swallowed by the pointlessness. They tend to kick the can around in terms of past failures, misfortunes, traumas. They can spin their wheels and throw a pity party me in a while. However, this is typically not their MO.

Aries is very resilient, they bounce back from windfalls pretty quickly and with great vigor. Challenge excites them, it brings out the best in their nature, and you’d be surprised what they can do.

If they have a lot of earth in their chart, oh lord, they will be stubborn. You would have an easier time dragging a mule uphill than getting an Aries to back down or change their mind. Even if the facts are stacked against them, they will not back down.

An Aries sexuality is spontaneous, fiery and passionate. Sex is mental for a great many signs, but Aries is often turned on by sexual organs alone. There is a raw animalistic quality to it, they have stamina for days, and a bright enthusiasm about it. Some Aries like to be dominant, but ironically, since their personalities are already so dominant they actually are rather submissive. Their desires are intense, and they like it rough.

My Mars is in Aries, which is my sexual placement, and every lover I’ve ever had has complained that I want it too much, and I take too long. People with heavy Aries influence are passionate, they have violent and immediate sexual impulses. It’s like being a cat in heat. Elizabeth Taylor (though a Pisces) had Aries in her chart which gave her this sensuous quality. There is something very childlike and pure about their sexuality in a way.

As a cardinal sign, meaning they are initiators, they like to make waves, get a project set in motion… Though they often get bored or abandon things halfway through. Aries affections can turn off suddenly, one day you are in their good graces, one wrong move (usually against their morals or if they are less evolved ego) and they will pull the plug.

Aries can suddenly be done with a relationship if it ceases to challenge them or maintain their interest. Routine relationships will bore the fuck out of Aries. They are generally loyal, if they were to cheat, it would be because their relationship was on the outs for a long time. They will try really hard to court their lover again and again to rekindle the flame… But if that fails then they will move on, often abruptly and in a seemingly insensitive way.

Romantic disillusionment is damaging to an idealist, because it shows them they were wrong about the world. They were wrong about a person. It makes them question themselves deeply. For the most part Aries has a strong sense of identity. Their personalities and their image are bold, they make a statement. People notice them, most especially their eyes, like little dancing lights in their head, full of fascination and powerful focus wherever they direct their full attention.

They have agile bodies, usually stocky in build for males, more compact. Girls are generally on the shorter side, if thin they are lean and athletic, sprightly in their step, and ready for anything. Arian women are like Joan of arc. They have a message, and a mission in life. Aries will speak their truth no matter the opposition.

Aries women can be domineering. If they are less evolved on an emotional level, they can be “mean girls”, or elitist in nature. If they are more evolved, they will be very forgiving and inspiring friends who try to see the good in every one. My first love never once raised his voice to me, never hung up on me, never called me a name, not once. He was noble, and respected women–in spite of being a philanderer. He had a high code of morality in terms of how you talk to people, expectations and etiquette were important to him.

If Aries has a lot of water in their chat, it will make them a bit more shy. They will be more reluctant to let people in, but once they do, the beauty of their playful spirit will start to unfold before your eyes. If they have earth, it will ground them, making them more solid and less verbal. Words mean little to Aries, they want action.

Aries comes up with creative ways to show their affection for others. They love surprises, or something that shows you really notice or pay attention. They are thoughtful creatures when they want to be, yet if their needs are not being met, they can tend to become less aware of others, indulging in their own self destruction.

Aries really don’t mean any harm (in most cases) when their actions hurt someone, they feel deeply guilty about it. I remember telling my ex after holding it inside for a long time, all the actions he had taken that had hurt me. I think he genuinely was not aware of how deeply he was affecting me. When I told him in detail, he let a few silent tears roll from his eyes. I could tell how sorry he was. He didn’t have to say anything. I could see it in his eyes.

Aries can hold grudges. Oh lord can they hold grudges. They privately lose respect for people who cross them, and they are never the same in their mind again, yet they are also capable of deep forgiveness, it just takes them time to get there.

Aries have strong opinions about what they will and will not allow in their space. They can be difficult at times, wanting things to go their way most of the time. They can be a bit selfish in this respect. Compromise is not one of their strong suits.

In my experience, Aries (men especially) are the most likely to discredit astrology. Many I have met hate it, say they don’t identify with it at all.

I’ve had quite a few Aries women who saw me as a threat for some reason or another, and treated me very unkindly in the past. I refuse to stoop to that level, so I don’t entertain it. It’s really a shame, because I liked each and every one of them, yet they found it necessary to be childish.

My acting mentor was an Aries. She was harder on me than anyone else. People often fled her classroom in tears because they could not handle her piercing honesty. She constantly put me under fire in front of the whole class, picking me apart, just being really brutal with me. The truth is: she was invested in me. She knew I could do it, and she was tough love because she knew I needed someone to kick my ass out of being lazy and complacent.

I remember doing a scene in class, and when she gave adjustments afterwards, she stared at me intensely for a long minute. When she finally spoke, I could feel the irritation in her voice. “Trust. Is a word you need to learn. Not just on stage, but in your life.” I fell silent, as did the whole class. She continued: “do you even want to do this with your life?” She proceeded to rip my performance apart mercilessly. I stared at the floor shaking silently, trying to hold bank the tears in my eyes. It was humiliating. I felt so raw. My partner Jamil (who was a Scorpio might I add) even he felt sorry for me and put his hand on my leg in attempts to comfort me. Right as he did so, Gloria raised her voice angrily and shouted: “DON’T touch her. She’s not fragile. Let her do this!”

She dismissed us to our seats. I was still fighting to hold it together. She changed the subject and continued on with her lecture. I shook so violently I lost feeling in my limbs. Finally I could contain it no longer, I burst out: “Gloria!” Tears pouring down my face, contorted with shame and pain. She turned to me, not phased in the least by my distress.

“You remind me of my mother!”Her voice went suddenly soft, with a rich tenderness as she said: “I know baby.” She ran over to me quickly as I rose to my feet and embraced me tightly. I sobbed into the crook of her shoulder and said: “I just want you to be proud of me.” “I am baby, for you breaking through this right now.”

She knew exactly what I needed, pushed all the right buttons to facilitate change in me. This is what an evolved Aries is capable of. I always thought she didn’t like me, but she believed in me. She was hard on me because she knew I was capable of better, and was frustrated with me for not actualizing my full potential. Aries give sound and solid advice. They have zero tolerance for bullshit. If you ever want someone to give it to you straight, Aries and Sag are the impulsive truth tellers.

Aries are facilitators, champions, generals. They are the personification of the ID. The infant, inner child, who shouts into the void: “I am”. They are enterprising, full of new and exciting ideas, always down for an adventure. Laughing at their misfortunes. As Aries Mary Pickford was quoted saying: “this thing called failure, is not the going down but the staying down.”

They are the knights in the crusade, the hopeless romantic at the end of the archway. The partner in crime, the accomplice. They are the best friend on your favorite 90’s show. Dirty feet from climbing trees, they are the fireflies dancing in the open field at night. They are stargazing, witty banter, a screwball comedy from the 3O’s. Bette Davis, Joan Crawford (both Aries), aerial silks, road trips, a puzzle in pieces on the floor. Pyrotechnics, extreme sports, skydiving. Emotive dance, precision, discipline. The power of dominion and purpose.

Aries is a blood red satin, skin exposed, hot summer nights with the windows left wide open. The view from the tallest mountain, the inside of an intricate tree house, they are Peter Pan, tinker bell, searching forever for his shadow as it mocks his every move. They are survivors, playmates. Wild children, the lord of the flies.

They are full force creation, obstinate, stubborn, yet eternally brave. Pewter goblets. Black ribbon zig zagging up your spine, gleaming vinyl. They are bright red lipstick, hair falling into disgruntled eyes, fingernail markings along your back. They are pulling hair, pulling teeth. They are passionate oblivion, reckless abandon. Childlike devotion. Action, adventure.

They are pirates, explorers, divas and kings. The cold steel of an elegant blade, the thrill of hand to hand combat. They are stimulants, the cloud of confrontation. Strong lean muscles, bare skin exposed. They are the last soul standing in defiance. They are the hero.

[winterstormgoddess]

An open letter to myself as a college freshman

Sometimes I sit around and think about you. Such a blank slate, ready to paint a new picture with brighter colors. What you don't know yet is that in the next 4 years of college you are going to wash that palette clean and paint new pictures more times than you can count. Your life will take turns you weren't expecting. Colors won't mix the way you thought they would. sometimes you'll forget how to draw the simplest shapes and sometimes your hand will be as light as a feather and your drawings will be so phenomenal they will take your breath away. You have now reached one of the major milestones we have been told about since we were little. Starting high school, your first relationship, your first heartbreak, getting your first job, choosing what college to go to, moving away from home, graduating college, starting a career, when you get married, when you have kids, and on and on. We grow up thinking about our lives as defined by these milestones, our successes and our identities determined by the outcomes. The truth is that growth happens in the in between. It is not the first stroke or the finished project. 

You are 19 years old, be kind to yourself. Allow yourself to make mistakes, you're going to even if you try not to let it happen. Even things that don't seem like mistakes in the moment may feel like them later so accept that. Don't try to hide those mistakes. Pretending you are invincible and convincing yourself that you are always right doesn't make you cooler. Transparency and honesty are the keys to real relationships and true acceptance. Be real with others and with yourself. 

Going off of that, allow other people to make their own mistakes and learn their own way. LIFE HACK: if you do not like your friends boyfriend, be honest with them and tell them how you feel. If they chose not to listen SHUT UP and stand by their side while they figure it out themselves. Forcing your friend to chose between you and their significant other never ends well for anyone. It leaves them feeling isolated and alone (which newsflash drives them closer to shitty significant other). On the flip side of that, try not to put a significant other before your friends. You will learn that the hard way, but I am saying it anyway. Your friends will be your lifeline, your confidants, your support system, your source of joy, and most importantly if you find the good ones, they will be the people who whip you into shape when you need to be. Crush the ego and don't be defensive with the people who love you. Good friends call you out on your bullshit. It might sting, you might want to bite their heads off in the moment, but remind yourself that whatever they are saying is probably coming from a place of love, and is aimed to push you to be the best you and the best friend you can be. 

Speaking of friends, you are going to meet people that remind you how to breathe. What I mean by that is, find your soul friends, find the people who allow you to breathe at your own rhythm, who slow your breath when you're anxious, who make you laugh until you can't breathe, and who don’t suck up all the air in the room. There will be others who want you to take up less space to make more room for them, who feel that it is essential to make you feel small in order to feel big themselves. These people might seem cool on the outside, but your social standing is not essential to your survival, your breathing is. That might not make any sense to you right now but it will I promise.

Now, lets talk about relationships. You're scared, you've been in a relationship for 3 years that isn't right for you and you know it, you're scared to let go, you're scared to hold on and you are so conflicted. It is not over yet as much as you say it is and when it is over for real, you won't be so scared anymore. You are so young, and I don't mean that to undermine the importance of that relationship, it will define you and how you approach relationships in many ways even after it is long over, but you have so much more waiting for you beyond that person. Take it for what it is, allow yourself the space to go back if you need to, and trust yourself when you know it is done. Regret and resentment are absolutely useless. It is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to die. One thing I will say is that you were lucky, you experienced many firsts with someone who cared about you. You loved him in whatever way you were capable of at that age and you felt safe in those moments. Remember that feeling of safety, you don't need to be in a relationship to feel it, but don't give your body or yourself away in situations where you don't feel that safety. Your body is your temple and you my dear, are the gatekeeper. You decide who and what you let in. Feel free to have a good time, but check your intention. Who are you inviting to your party? someone who might be a good time but is absolutely going to trash the place? or someone who is fun AND respectful of you and your home. Also, I know you know this but I am going to say it anyway. Your value is not your sexuality. In the words of the beautiful Rupi Kaur “I am sorry I made it sound as though something as simple as what you’re born with is all you have to be proud of, when you have broken mountains with your wit.”(SHAMELESS PLUG: buy the book Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur). Your intelligence and your soul far surpasses the beauty that will ever be seen on the surface. So even when college hookup culture consumes your self worth, and makes you feel like you are defined by how many guys want to take you to their Vegas formal remember that you are going to change the world one day and the last thing that will matter to you will be the other girl that guy gave his attention to. 

At a certain point you're going to tell yourself that you don't like “nice guys” because they're too boring and can't handle your fiery spirit. That is you burying the fact that you have chosen assholes and have forgotten what you deserve. Don't give up on fairytales just yet. Don't lose hope that there is someone out there who is going to look at you and see the world in your eyes. That brown haired, blue eyed boy whose confidence doesn't equal cockiness, who is kind and respectful yet unafraid and assertive. Ya, he exists. When he comes into your life, let him in. 

You are a product of the people you surround yourself with, but your picker will be off if you don't know who you are. Do what makes you feel good. Exercise as much as you can and eat healthy, not because you want to look like OC Barbie, but because your body loves to move and you thrive off of things that are good for you. That being said, get froyo with your friends. Like I said, do what makes you feel good (sometimes that is chocolate & vegging out). Do what scares you. You will be so enmeshed with college life that stepping outside of that and doing something different might seem terrifying, but challenging yourself is the only way to grow. Travel, go on adventures, see the world, do a Yoga Teacher Training. Push yourself to step outside of your comfort zone because that is where happiness begins and remember the friends who push you past that comfort zone when you can't, keep them close. 

I know that you struggle with feeling intelligent, with feeling like your success holds up in comparison to others. Sometimes success and achievements aren't tangible. Sometimes the reading that you connect to in class will be more important in the long run than the grade on the midterm. Your emotional intelligence has always been your strong suit and you have constantly undermined your intellectual abilities, but listen to me closely. Your brain is capable of understanding as much as you allow it to. Your ability is completely dependent on your belief in yourself. Your emotional intelligence does not stand separate from your intellectual ability. Your compassion, your empathy, and your ability to listen to the stories of others will give you a greater understanding of the concepts you are studying and enhance your ability to use your voice to make a difference in the world that is beyond your wildest dreams. 

And because nothing will ever ring truer than this, be the buffalo. Buffalos run towards a storm, cows run away. Run towards the storm, face whatever comes your way head on, and even when you begin to run away have the courage to turn back around. The faster you face it, the faster it passes you. Its worth getting wet to dance in the rain. Buffalos stand with their herd without fail. Your tribe, your people, they are your world. Find the people who crawl, walk, run, and fly with you. You aren't asking for too much, you don't need to much, you don’t need to lower your expectations, there are people in this world who will love you with the same wholehearted love that you give. 

It doesn't get less scary, I am sitting here writing this to you with a whole lot of unknown lying ahead of me, but I know who I am, I have my tribe, I know what kind of love I deserve, and I know what lights my fire. Because of that, I am at peace, and you will be too.

Shine sweet girl, enjoy the ride, be loud, be fierce, be soft, be vulnerable, be you unapologetically. 

Yours truly,

You 3 months before your college graduation.