#finally got around to finishing this from -looks at draft date- 2 months ago since i managed to get qsh lol

[hauntedwitch04]

Amazing life

Remus Lupin x reader

Author's note: This oneshot is purely and selfishly for me, since two years ago I published my first post and I wanted to celebrate it in this way, manifesting the life I desire and dream about every day of my life. I hope you enjoy it despite the fact that it is very personal.

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"Oh my God!" Comments in a whisper, which actually turns out to be half shouted.

Immediately you hear your husband's heavy footsteps coming toward you from behind. You immediately sense his presence as he lowers his torso so that his head is beside yours. In his hand is a cup of hot chamomile tea, which he immediately places on your desk as he leaves a kiss in the crook of your neck.

"What's the matter honey, something wrong with the book?" asks Remus slightly concerned to see your face upset, but at the same time happy, which does not allow him to fully comprehend what he sees.

You shake your head without saying anything, and with your finger point to him a date under a Tumblr post now centuries old, from an account you may have left hanging in that limbo of existence for years, with no real reason to exist except to feed your own memories.

"That's today's date." He confirms, looking at the date marking the computer: November 2.

You still remain silent as you stare out the window at an undefined spot, as you smile and let a few tears run down your cheeks. You listen carefully to the sound of the rain beating down over the glass of your small apartment in downtown Edinburgh. You had finally managed to move to this city after having spent a lifetime dreaming of doing so, and you had also managed to do so with the man of your life, or rather you had met him there on your first trip made in discovering this wonderful city that enchanted you with its charms, and you had immediately fallen in love.

After a few years you got married and decided to stay and live in Edinburgh, where you pursued a career as a filmmaker, and as a writer in your spare time.

You've always loved both film and writing, and you couldn't give up either of them in your life, and in return you got nothing but joy and a few less hours of sleep.

Just now you were looking for an old written note in your computer documents, for a story you are writing, when you remembered that you might have written it of the drafts from your first Tumblr account, where you started writing, and so you ended up spending hours rereading and commenting on the stories the little you had written, laughing, crying, and sometimes ashamed of your work, even though you often stopped and thanked even those poor oneshots that you didn't consider up to your writing because they were simple or trivial, because after all, it's because of them that you got where you are now.

Everything up to the first story you had written. A simple oneshot about Rhysand, a character in the series "A court of thorns and roses" written by Sarah J Maas. You had finished reading the series a few months earlier, and you had become very attached to that character who had made you fall in love with her words and actions.

The month before publishing this had been one of the worst months of your life. You had had an accident working out, and you had injured ligaments in your ankle, and you had stayed home from school for a month, crawling and hopping to get around, having to ask everyone for a hand and hating every second of it, since if there is one thing you can't stand in the world, it is showing weakness and asking for help.

You had spent a month alone, seeing all your friends go to school and have fun together, while you spent all day alone with your thoughts, and so your only refuge had been writing.

You had decided to write an oneshot about one of your favorite characters, to comfort yourself for a moment, without the idea of publishing it anywhere. It wasn't the first time you had published something on the Internet, but it was the first time it would be solely yours, and written solely for you, and that made you a little anxious. Eventually you had decided to post it on Tumblr, after several indecisions and in the throes of an anxiety attack, you mashed on that sadistic button that published your first story, before walking the dog and praying to all the known gods that you hadn't fucked up.

As soon as you got home you had checked and were amazed like a little girl seeing Christmas presents under the tree, seeing that three people had liked your story.

From there it was all history, in the good times and the bad times of your life, a constant that allowed you to survive, thanks in part to the support and love of the people who followed your page, read your stories and whom you had come to know over time.

You have never met better people than on Tumblr, devoid of hate or resentment, always ready to help others with a comment or a compliment.

"This is the first story I ever wrote." You whispered to your husband who had stayed behind to read the story while you looked out the window.

He brings his eyes to you, smiles and kisses your forehead.

"It's been a lot of years, and yet it seems like yesterday that I wrote this simple imagine. It seems like yesterday that I was a simple little girl with a dream in her drawer." You confess, as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

"I am proud of you, who you were and who you have become." He whispers after slightly pulling his lips away from my forehead.

I smile, and he smiles back, as with one last kiss he pulls away to take the old coffee cup to the kitchen, promising to come back, wanting to read all the things I had written in my youth.

I laugh, as I shake my head, and smile to think how little me did not expect this life, and how much I longed for it at the same time, and I would like nothing more than to go back and confess to him to hold on, that sooner or later life will get better.

I look at the picture on my desk, a picture of my last birthday, spent with all my friends from high school and college, and I smile to think that in a little while, on my birthday, maybe I might want to go back in time and see little me one last time, and tell her how magnificent our life had become.

[zeravmeta]

I genuinely have not stopped thinking about the comparison that Holmes made between QSH and Olympus because it’s very easy to assume that Holmes is simply stating that Zeus and the gods have managed to create a utopia better than that of QSH which doesn’t erase the free will of the inhabitants nor does it micromanage them to the absurd degree we see QSH do, but really I think Holmes is saying that QSH would be unable to accept Olympus because it wasn’t made by human hands.

The comparisons between China and Olympus are very apparent: Ruled by a mechanical, all-seeing sovereign with total control over the planet who has said control even reach to the stars as they manage the populace to their absolute whim. However, the actual structure and management of these utopia are very fundamentally different because the rulers are fundamentally different. Europa calls out Zeus on the fact that humanity isn’t their companion, but rather their pet, and Zeus entirely agrees. Despite coveting and becoming attached to the names and titles and beliefs that humans have given Zeus and the other machine gods for generations, they still view them as wholly inferior to their own advanced selves. The gods of Olympus themselves are a fundamentally different type of being because things like death and emotions are child’s play for them to manipulate, because they themselves have never had those concepts applied to them. They don’t care how many they slaughter when trying to stop Chaldea because they can simply be revived, they don’t care what kind of pain they make their citizens go through because they can simply drown them in pleasure afterwards. The reason why we beat the gods with the Black Barrel isn’t just to destroy them, but because the Black Barrel inflicts genuine mortality onto these immortal beings. We see Demeter lose herself to her madness and grief because she wasn’t allowed to grieve, and we put her to rest. We see Aphrodite bitter and distant because she’s long lost any genuine meaning to the love she inflicts, and in her final moments is longing of Panhuman History’s Aphrodite who had her love live on past her death. The gods keep themselves intentionally distant from their own people because in Zeus’ own words he doesn't love them, but rather feels pity for them being such small beings, and simply wants them to be unthinking reeds who bend to the will of the gods so that they never have to struggle on their own, and to this end have not only robbed humans of their ambitions, but even of their right to die.

But Qin Shi Huang, at their core, loves humanity. Everything they do has been motivated from a love for humanity and the simple fact that they couldn’t handle the possibility of the humans they love so much coming into needless conflict and slaughtering each other. Their fear of Confucianism doesn’t stem from wanting to eradicate individuality, but rather wanting to minimize all possible conflict that comes from differing ideals. To this end, we see QSH essentially plan out everyone’s lives for them, the people live peaceful happy lives, they never starve or get sick, and always die peaceful controlled deaths. Anyone who is born with any artistic talents or talents in innovation are taken to the capital, where their skills are fully refined and preserved by the Emperor. QSH has continued to optimize and build upon their own immortal body not because they are afraid of drying, but rather are afraid of how humanity might fare if not under their careful planning. Compared to Zeus and the machine gods who settled onto Earth as a temporary base and molded the planet to their own benefit, everything QSH has done is specifically for the sake of humanity. The Lostbelt Depth of Atlantis and Olympus is A+ because it is as far removed from an advancing humanity as possible, but the Lostbelt Depth of China is E because despite the drastic difference, the world is being advanced by a humans hands. Qin Shi Huang see’s themselves as the only human in the Chinese Lostbelt not because they’ve erased the humanity of the people who live there but rather because they consider themselves not a single person but rather the empire itself. All of SIN’s citizens are in their own eyes parts of their own body. The difference in their Lostbelt managements stems entirely from how the Lostbelt kings feel about humans. Zeus doesn’t love humans, but QSH doesn’t trust humans. In essence, Zeus is an irresponsible pet owner letting his pets gorge themselves on treats while QSH is a preschool teacher making sure that their students don’t hurt themselves.

But fundamentally, the people of SIN do not pray. A running theme in Atlantis and Olympus is that the citizens either lived cursed lives waiting for the attention of the gods, or blessed lives where every prayer and minimal want is answered by the gods. People have lost the ability to be ambitious or think for themselves because every prayer they have is answered by the gods, and we see how that devolves into slaughter whenever the gods show their true colors throughout the Lostbelt. When we finally defeat Zeus and the people of Olympus fall and their homes are crumbling around them, they don’t try to help each other, or escape, or even accept their deaths, they only know how to pray, and die with those prayers unanswered. However, the people of the Chinese Lostbelt never pray. They all know that the Emperor is looking out for them, and trust the Emperors decisions. Yet, when QSH starts attacking with meteors when trying to stop Chaldea, they don’t simply stand by and accept it, but rather we see that even with the most blessed lives imaginable, the people of SIN feel fear, feel anger, and have never lost their human drive to survive, even wanting to rebel against the Emperor. Even in having lost their kingdoms do we see the differences shine. When Zeus was defeated, he opened a portal to Chaos because he wanted to take down the remnants of Panhuman History with him. When QSH lost, they accepted a loss with grace. A human can lose, even on their own terms, and learn from their mistakes, but Zeus as a perfect immortal unchanging god could not accept his loss at human hands no matter what. Even in their defeats are they different, because Zeus was defeated by an epic battle of epic proportions, but QSH was defeated because they learned that the humanity of Panhuman History continued to advance even with differing ideals, that almost everyone on the planet has a miniature computer where they share their ideas, struggle together, and advance regardless.

Fundamentally, the difference is that when the people of Olympus looked up to the sky, they prayed. When the people of China looked up to the sky, the Emperor sat beside them and admired the stars.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

champion | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x driver!reader word count: 2.2k request: yes/no. by an anon: "Hi there. Do you write smut? If not my apologies, just ignore this. If you do I have a prompt. Mick dating fellow driver (a female) and winning his first GP, then having sex with her for the first time as a form of celebration?" okay so i don't usually write smut (so please don't take it bad if you request smut and i decline). i had zero inspiration to write anything else so i just went for this. warnings: smut. 18+ only. if you're under 18 you will be blocked. oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving). it's one of the first times i've written smut so please be kind. swear words, mick being cheeky. (please let me know if i've missed anything, like i said i'm not very used to writing smut and maybe some things went over my head as i reviewed it. but be kind, please.) a/n: yeah. i've written smut like two or three times a looong time ago. and since then i've felt terrified to try again, which is why i didn't go too in-depth during the actual sex. let me know what you think! i can't believe i've written and posted one fic a day for four days in a row. wow. funny story, me and my dumb ass misread this request as well and i was writing something else and i was so inspired when i realized my mistake lmao. i'm definitely saving that draft for later.

my masterlist

"the gap to mick is 0.5, and to hamilton is 1.3. give it your all."

your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, you could feel the sweat dripping down your body from anticipation.

there were just two laps left, mick had never been this close to a win. you watched as your boyfriend in the car in front of you sped up, catching up with hamilton and you did the same. you kept your distance at first when mick tried to overtake him, he went on the inside of a curb and you went full throttle. hamilton went wide, and that gave you the advantage to overtake him as well.

on the last lap you could taste victory, you were so close to mick, but you knew what this would mean for him, so you didn't try to fight him for the position.

a 1-2 for your team was the best result possible, no matter who ended up on the top spot. the checkered flag was being waved, and mick schumacher had just won his first grand prix in formula one.

as your race engineer congratulated you on the amazing work the entire race, starting p11 and finishing p2 was quite the hard work, you and mick did a final lap together, trying to keep the cars side by side as you lift your fist in the air, trying to stop yourself from jumping up and down in the car.

you parked the car in front of a board with a large '2' on it. and right next to you, your boyfriend parked his in the long-awaited first place spot. you got out of the car, rushing to his side. he hugged you, laughing as he twirled you around. you made your way to where your team waited for the both of you.

as you stood on the podium, mick placed an arm around you, buzzing with excitement. he pulled you to his side, and you climbed on the top spot. he grasped your hand in his and lifted them, stretching your arms up high as you held your trophies with your free hands.

mick couldn't keep his hands off you the entire night. you'd gone for drinks at the bar of the hotel you were staying at, but neither of you drank anything because your diets didn't allow it, not that you needed the alcohol to enjoy the night. you let him have his way with you, he was a champion after all.

and champions deserved their prize.

the entire day your mind kept looking forward to the night. you and mick hadn't been intimate yet. you'd been together for two months, the best months of your life, and you were taking your time getting to know each other's likes and dislikes, plus, you didn't have that much experience, but this was the best way to end a perfect day, and you felt ready.

as you stumbled to your room you closed the door behind you, mick's grip on your waist tight. you fell back on your bed, and mick climbed on top of you, kissing your cheek.

you still had adrenaline running in your veins, and you waited until you both calmed down to let him know your decision. you thought he'd fallen asleep until you felt his lips nipping at your neck. you continued to let him decorate your neck with lovebites and bruises, occasionally dragging his lips up to yours. you could spend the entire night like this, but you had other plans.

"mick, mick," you said as his lips met the side of your neck. he hummed in reply, nipping and biting. "i think i'm ready," he froze for a moment, unsure if he'd heard you right.

"what?" he asked, leaning his weight on his arms, his face so close to yours, you couldn't stop yourself as you leaned forward and captured his lips in a short embrace.

"i want to be yours, completely. i'm ready," you said, he smiled at you, kissed your cheek before he flipped you two over, so you were on top of him. his hands snaked around your waist, pushing you until your chest laid flat against him.

"baby, please don't feel pressured to do it. you don't own me anything, i just want to spend one of the best nights of my life with you, we don't have to do anything." he said and he looked at you with those big blue eyes of his, his stare so soft and hypnotizing it made you dizzy.

"i know, but i want to. you've done so much for me, and you've said it yourself. i'd like to end one of the best nights of my life, as well, with you."

"fuck, i love you." he couldn't contain himself.

"me too," you said for the first time, grabbing his face and colliding your lips with his as he flipped you over again.

the kiss started slow, you were taking your time exploring him in a new light, you couldn't help but feel extremely nervous, you didn't have that much experience. his hands sliding down the sides of your body brought you back from your thoughts, making you gasp. you dragged your hands down his back, slipping under his shirt, feeling his skin, scratching it with your nails.

you took your time as the kiss grew heated, your heartbeat speeding almost as fast as the cars you drove. you sighed deeply as his lips met your neck again, he bit and sucked and licked, making you feel a pleasure you hadn't before.

the clothes came off, you stared at each other with pure adoration in your eyes.

"are you sure?" he asked, making you feel warm inside. your fingers were in his hair, so you pulled him towards your face and joined your lips, hoping that would answer his question. "okay, but you have to tell me the moment you start feeling uncomfortable. this isn't just about me."

"i promise," you said.

his lips descended down your neck, to your breasts, where he took his time giving attention to each peak. he continued his journey, kissing all over your stomach, his breath and soft lips tickling you. once he reached your aching core he locked eyes with you. he sat on his knees, pulled your legs apart, on each side of him.

tentatively, his thumb touched your sensitive skin, making you flinch. his eyes instantly flew to your face, "is this okay?" he whispered as his fingers stilled.

"yes. don't stop," you gasped, he nodded, his eyes flying back to where his digits played with you. two of his fingers held you open for him as another circled your opening, his breath hitching. you heard a soft 'fuck' leaving his lips as he plopped down on his stomach, his warm breath hitting your tender core.

"i'm gonna use my mouth, okay?" he said, as he grabbed one of your thighs and left soft kisses.

"please," you almost moaned, the anticipation too much. you felt as if you were buzzing, electricity ran through your veins as you waited for him to do something.

the first lick caught you off guard, the air left your lungs as your head shot up to look at him between your legs. his eyes silently asked for permission, and you nodded, whispering a soft 'don't stop'. and he dived in.

your back arched off the bed, hands curled around the white sheet beneath you as he kissed and licked you in your most intimate spot. his fingers found your hypersensitive button, and the pleasure intensified by a thousand. you felt like you were burning up inside, your head dizzy with ecstasy as soft gasps left your throat.

one of his fingers circled your opening, "i have to stretch you, first." he said, and you nodded. "okay, this might hurt, so tell me and i'll stop."

"please never stop. i've never felt like this in my whole life," you admitted, too drunk on his touch to think straight.

"we're just starting, my love." he said. his pinky finger began stretching you as it made its way inside you. you closed your eyes, biting your lip and throwing your head back against the pillows.

"fuck, keep going," you creaked out. once he was fully inside, he remained still for a moment before he began pulling out slowly, then pushing back in. once you were used to his pinky, he pulled out completely, taking his finger to his mouth and cleaning it from your wetness.

he worked you out, using two and three fingers, and once you'd found a pace you were comfortable with, his lips surrounded your clit, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked and licked.

"oh my god," you whispered. your hands moved on their own accord, tangling your fingers in his blonde hair, pushing him deeper into you.

your orgasm came crashing down, you felt fireworks exploding inside your skin, a pressure that had formed in your stomach now disappearing as he continued to kiss your clit and fuck you with his fingers until you felt that same pressure start to build again.

"fuck, mick, i can't-" you choked on air, your chest was heaving as you breathed rapidly. his intense gaze made you shiver.

"let go, baby. i got you, you're almost there. you're doing so good." he praised you, connecting his lips with your bundle of nerves, and you clenched around his fingers, inner walls fluttering as you came for a second time. your legs were numb as he pulled away from you, climbing his way up your body to kiss you, making you taste yourself in his mouth.

"that was wonderful," you whispered against his lips, noses brushing.

"you did so good for me, baby. my best girl." he connected your lips again, pouring all the love and passion into it.

"i want to make you feel good," you said as you pulled away to breathe. he shook his head.

"another time, liebe. tonight is about you,"

"no, tonight is about you," you said, holding his face.

"and i want to please you tonight. please," he pleaded, and looked at you with those eyes that made it impossible for you to put up a fight. you nodded, "do you want to keep going?" he asked,

"please,"

his fingers traveled down, touching your wet core. he took off his boxers, throwing them to the side. he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it once, twice. you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, he looked... sublime.

you bit your lip as his thick head touched your folds, slipping between them. you gasped when he pressed it against your clit, shivering in pleasure.

"you ready?"

"yes," you nodded and he slipped home.

you spent the rest of the night in his arms, he whispered how much he loved you. he was gentle and soft and showed so much devotion and commitment to make sure you received as much pleasure as he did.

you woke up feeling sore. the sun slipping through the curtains hit your eyes, so you turned your back, being careful to not wake up mick. you tried to get up to use the restroom, but your legs trembled as you tried to stand. you fell on the floor, and let out a yelp before you could stop yourself.

that woke him up

mick sat up, looking from side to side until he found you on the floor.

"what happened?" he asked as he got up and ran to you. he helped you up and sat you on the bed. you couldn't stop the soft giggles that left your mouth.

"you broke me," you said, pointing to your crotch area. "i tried to stand up and my legs gave up on me." you laughed at the absurd situation you were in.

"wow, that is a confidence boost," he smirked, kneeling on the floor in front of you. you slapped his arm playfully, which only made him laugh harder. "sorry, sorry."

"guess you'll have to be my slave for the day," you said, kissing his cheek.

"if this is the price i have to pay every time we're together i'll take it," he said. throwing himself on top of you, making you squeal as you fell backwards against the bed.

"shut up, i need to use the bathroom," you pouted.

"should i get you a wheelchair?" he said, raising his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes. he leaned back and stood up.

"i got fucked hard, not hit by a train," you replied, and made grabby hands at him. he held your hands and placed one arm under your knees and the other circled your back. he left you in the bathroom whilst you did your business, he waited behind the closed door.

"i don't think there's a difference," he continued his playful banter and you scoffed.

"get over yourself, schumacher. i'm the one in charge here," you said and slowly got up to wash your hands. once he heard you were done he knocked on the door and opened it once you gave him the all-clear. your fingers gripped the sink to keep you in place, and he quickly put his arm around your waist to steady you.

"you wish," he laughed. you looked at him through the mirror, and you raised an eyebrow wickedly.

"fine. then i won't let you have me tonight," you said and his face fell.

"nooo, please," he dragged out the 'o', pouting. "i need you." he complained.

"then behave," you said as you turned around, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him as he walked you to the bed, setting you down softly.

"i've created a monster," he mumbled against your neck. where the bruises and love bites from yesterday painted your skin.

"only for you, champion."

[lets-imagine-fanfics]

War With The Ghost Part 4

Jake Peralta x Criminal!Reader [GN]

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3]

Not My GIFs; Picture 1: @tamazo2 | GIF 2: Unkown

Words: 1.2K

[Masterlist] [Send a Request] [Fandoms I write]

A/N: So this has taken a reallly long time to upload but has been sat in my Grammarly drafts for ages, and since I am getting back in to writing I figured imma finish my series. 

After you had made your predictions that Detective Jake Peralta (AKA your boyfrie...your date?...) was investigating you and your crew (also known as 'The Ghost' which is why Jake didn't think you were... well...  you) you decided to risk it for the sake of your crew and investigate Jake Peralta's case.

"Okay, let's make a plan... What do we need to be able to keep tabs on Jake's case, Sniffer?" You asked as you paced the empty apartment of your base.

"Hard to say, I don't know what kind of software he has, different software takes a different hack," Sniffer replied, his voice laced with exhaustion as he rubbed his forehead.

"There could be a case file at his place" You hear Jonesy say in his gruff voice. "If that's the case, you could always just break in, saves us all a job" he added with a smirk.

"Saves everyone getting involved that's for sure" You reply, a playful glare towards Jonesy. "I'll set up a date," You say as you start to walk to one of the bedrooms for your phone call with Jake "whilst I do that... Try and figure out what computers the precinct have and then Sniffer..." You turn back around to look at your team who are all eyes on you. Sniffer nods understanding that you want him to create a bug that you can plant. You head down the hall to the bedroom furthest from the team so you can't be heard on the phone.

You can hear his phone ringing through and then... "Hi, Jake". --- "I have an Instagram picture of one of Jake's work colleagues, Gina, It's a selfie, but her work computer is in the back of the picture, it's just a HP computer, nothin special" Creeps spoke up after going from Jake's Instagram followers and working out who Jake works with off of the last names that Sniffer had managed to find from some of the newspapers. From there, he found Gina's and, well, he hit the jackpot.

"This picture was a year ago; they could have gotten new systems now, a few precincts got new computers a few months ago as a good work initiative, didn't they." Creeps replied.

AJ grabs the phone from Creeps and looks through a few photos of Gina "Okay, so her spirit animal is a wolf, she loves Beyonce, and... believes in psychics... Get me her work number; I have an idea."

Sniffer found the work number, that was the easy part, AJ put her phone on private, dialled in the number and let it ring through.

"Hello, Is this Miss Linetti?" AJ asked through the phone, making sure to put on an accent. 'This is she' Gina replied.

"Oh, good, I'm with HP, and I see on my list that the 99th Precinct should be... due for a... computer software update soon, I am just ringing to check that everything is working well before we go ahead and send the update." 'Yeah... I guess everything is working' Gina again replied.

"Oh, excellent, I'll go ahead and send that email for you just to confirm you want the update... and then it will take a few days to come through, but first I need to take some details just to make sure our information matches your software otherwise the update might make your computer do a system reboot." At this, Sniffer actually facepalmed. 'I don't know those deets'

Sniffer started to write something down before showing AJ "It can be confusing at times but don't worry, there is a straightforward way of seeing... erm..." AJ vigorously shakes her head at Sniffer, saying no, whilst Sniffer nods his head at AJ as he shoves the paper closer to her face. "What does the windows logo look like on the keyboard?" 'Like a flag.' "Like a flag? Okay... and does it have a circle around it or does it look like the end is pixelated like it belongs in 'Avengers: Infinity War'?" AJ asks. 'Circle one?'  Gina finally said as if analysing the logo on her keyboard.

"The circle one" AJ confirms looking at Sniffer who nods eagerly. "Excellent, thank you Ms Linetti, that's the one we have on our systems too.  That's the Windows Vista software, well we have confirmed that and we will continue with the update. Thank you for the help." 'No problem, I guess' Gina replied before hanging up.

"How did you know it was the Windows Vista from just 'flag' and  'circle'?" AJ asked Sniffer who was getting a high five from Creeps at that point.

"Windows logo changed a bit; I would have been screwed if she said neither coz that means it could either be XP or 7 and we would have had no way of telling them apart."

Sniffer sat back down at his computer from being stood; next AJ was he vigorously wrote notes and hints down for her whilst on the phone, as he got done making the bug email for you, you appeared from the bedroom.

"I have a date, It took some time and convincing, but I am picking him up from the precinct, did you find out what computer system they were using or whatever?"

"Creeps found the person to call and AJ rang, she was brilliant on the phone, taught her well. Quick on her feet. Sniffer managed to figure out what computer systems the 99 was using and created the bug email, and I just stood 'ere looking pretty." Jonesy relayed everything that had happened whilst you were in the other room.

"You are amazing at standing there and looking pretty, Jonesy" You say with a smile as Sniffer sends off the bugged email.

"Don't you know it" Jonesy replied with a grin. ------

You were heading to the precinct whilst you were on your phone. "Now remember, we can't help you when you are in there, no earpieces, no calls, you are totally dark in there." Creeps said on the other end of the phone.

"Oh no, 'cause I really wanted you lot listening in on our date" You reply sarcastically.

"Okay, Okay" Sniffer joined the call. "Right, once you reach Jake's computer, add the hard drive and send over the file. It will be visible in your hard drive file but not on the computer - due to the bug we sent to Ms Linetti via email. Once you have sent it over, we can then take a look at anything and everything on Jake's laptop and then whenever he sends an email - with our keywords; the bug will automatically multiply and attach to the emails and docs sent, and then once we are ready, we can erase every single file and email about the Ghosts."

"Very nice touch, Sniffer" You say pleased with his thinking.  "I'll be in touch after everything is done" After that you hang up, knowing that your team no doubt had a dozen comments about what 'Everything' could be.  

When you walked into the 99, you headed into the bullpen when you heard someone speak to you. "Hi, can I help you" A short man wearing a detective's badge asks.

"Yes, actually... I'm looking for Jake Peralta, this is where he works, isn't it?" You ask feigning innocents.  

"Jake... Yeah, he's out at the minute, but his desk is just there if you want to wait" The man replied with a soft tone.

"Perfect, Thank you."

[pamgkrthwrites]

Flame of Healing | EsaerMic x Reader | Chapter 4 - Arms

Masterlist | AO3

Warnings: Time skip, major cuts, Soulmate AU, Large age gap mention, slight gore(broken bones), mention of death, mention of lost virginity, mention of running away, denying of grief, grief avoidance, a slow chapter. 

Word Count: 2028

Taglist: @stargazingaloneatnight

A/N: I have lesbian plans for Ms Joke, I’ll say that now. I was going to mention this new law in the last chapter but I decided to mention in passing here because we needed to focus more on Oboro. His death will be a big deal for all these three soulmate babies.  Also, I really do not want to write a first time, so it is canon that reader has had a couple of relationships and hookups. ALSO ALSO, the group mention will also play a big part. This is the chapter to foreshadow A BUNCH of shit. Hope you all enjoy.

It had been 4 years since Oboro’s death, 3 years since you finished school and 2 years since you started working for hero agency as a nurse. 

You had been hurting ever since you were told Oboro died. You might not have talked to him in that last year of his life, but that made it worse for you. His was your best friend throughout middle school, and no one was going to replace him. 

You hadn’t bumped into your soulmates since that day in the street either. You heard about Hizashi all the time though. He was very loud and hard to take your eyes from whenever he was on TV. Shouta never appeared on TV though. 

You were all turning 21 this year, which meant only one thing.

Soulmate reveal.

It was a law that passed a year ago in response to people unable to find their soulmate. Your name, soulmates names, quirks, family, job, date of birth, address and a picture of you were on a database. Once the youngest soulmate turned 21, the information on you would be released to the other party. 

The guy who wrote the final draft choice the age 21 because he got his soulmate’s name at 21, but justified as ‘Well what if they want to go out drinking? The age to drink is 21.’ 

America was the country who made it and other countries started to follow suit so that cross country soulmates could still meet. 

This somehow opened up a question most had ignored until now. 

What if someone didn’t want to meet their soulmate or didn’t want to date them?

The Anti-Soulmate movement had grown, and you were apart of the group. The local group would meet once a week and would talk about a wild range of things. A lot of people got up and confessed they met someone before meeting their soulmate and love them instead. Some revealed their age gap with their soulmate grossed them out. Some revealed they had no knows, and didn’t want to be told that they couldn’t love anyone. 

And somehow it turned into a dating hub.

You knew you were being watched, but no one knew your true name. You once again gave up your middle name when meeting people in the group. You had joined in your last year of school and had been dating and doing hookups since. 

You were watching the news, the morning of the 5th of July. The news was talking about the celebration in America about the 4th of July. Then, Hizashi came on.

Your heart sank when you saw his face, heard him speak. His was a public figure so his birthday was already revealed to be in 2 days. 

“Hello, Japan!” He greeted with a wide smile on his face. “America has been going crazy with their party, which I will be able to relate to in a couple of days!” He laughed.

The news anchor smiled. “Yes, I heard your 21st is in two days! Are you excited to meet your soulmate?”

Mic awkwardly laughed. “Funny thing! I met one of my soulmates in UA!” Mic looked at the camera. “Hey Shouta, baby!”

You chuckled, he was a drama queen. He loved the camera, he even started his own podcast.

Even though you didn’t want to meet them, you didn’t move, did legally change your name, and listened in to Hizashi whenever you could. 

“He is the youngest out of us two, but we don’t know if he is the youngest in our soulmates.”

Unlike you, Hizashi became open about his soulmate status, probably to get your attention. Everyone knew he had two names, and he was the most vocal about it. He surprisingly cleared up a lot of horrible rumours about 2 name soulmates and there hadn’t been any slander on them since. 

Well, to your knowledge, you still covered their names up.

“And when is Shouta birthday, Mic?”

You breathed in. You were on the edge of your seat, you needed to know your timeframe to move out of the city.

He smiled. “November 8th.”

4 months, you could move countries in 4 months, right?

---

“Good morning Miss L/N!” Smiled Ms Joke at you as she walked into the building behind you.

You smiled back in return. “Good Morning Senpai, how are you?”

Even though it was not asked of you, you called all the Heroes in the building Senpai. You didn’t call Heroes from other Agencies Senpai, you called them by their hero name. It was kinda wired as Ms Joke was 2 years younger than you.

“You won’t believe who I met last night on patrol!” She smiled with a light blush.

“Who did you meet, Senpai?” You asked as you pressed the button for the elevator. 

“Eraserhead!” She smiled brightly. “He acts like an old grumpy man! Haha.”

You hadn’t heard much of Esaerhead, you knew he was an underground hero who kept to himself.

“What does he look like? I’ve only heard of him.” You state and the elevator doors ding.

“He has messy black hair, unshaven face, tired eyes, and he wears a dark green suit, black boots, and a light grey wrap scarf.” Ms Joke answered as you both stepped into the elevator. You pressed the button to the floor above while she pressed the floor where the heroes training station was. 

You looked back to when you talk to Shouta, the night Oboro died. He wore something like that.

“Does he also wear goggles?” You asked.

Her face lit up and she smiled and nodded. “YES! Have you met him before?!”

Sadly, yes. It was Shouta. He sounded the same since that day, maybe besides the messy hair and tired eyes.

“Kinda, he was just in my friend’s class. Only saw him twice.” You brushed the answer off.

The doors binged opened to your floor and you walked through. Ms Joke smiled and waved you goodbye before the doors closed. 

You weren’t a fan of Joke, you weren’t friends, just saw each other at work enough to know each other names but not well enough to invite places. 

You head over to your station to start off your day as per usual on a Monday morning. 

---

“Hello Listener!”

No.

“Sorry ‘bout this, but I got permission from your agency to get you help.”

Hizashi was standing in your healing booth, with a give bruise down his right arm, possibly broken.

“...That’s fine Present Mic.” You spoke softly. “Sit down and I’ll get started.”

Mic sat down and whined a little at his arm. You sat down next to him and pulled up the fabric of his clothing to see full damage.

“May I ask what happened?” You asked softly as you placed your hand on his arm and activated your quirk. 

Mic whined at the touch but as the bruise started to fade the more willing he was too it. “Yeah I was happily talking to some fans and a baddie ran past so I tried to stop him but he threw me into a building.”

“Ouch. Did the guy get away?” You asked as your deactivate your work and checked his arm to make sure it had been properly taken care of. 

“Nah, some other heroes were there and took care of it.” He answered as he watched you. “Have we met before Listener?”

You stopped and looked up at him. His eyes were so intense and it made you shiver. You wanted to fall and you couldn’t take your hands away from him.

“...Yes, first-year, I was friends with Shirakumo.” You answered softly as you took away your hands.

You both became quite. You both knew the situation around him, and that it was hard on both of you for different reasons.

“I… See…” He said as he tried to avoid the situation. “Do I have to do extra care with my arm?”

You can tell he cringed at asking after such a wired moment. You both were avoiding it and it was best you both got away from it.

“It might be a little tight for a couple of days, so just stretch it and massage it.”

“Great!” He smiled, awkwardly. “May I leave?”

You nodded your head and he zipped past you. You watched him make a beeline to the exist and leave before saying goodbye to anyone. 

You let out a breath, and you noticed how fast your heart was pounding. 

Was that the first time you ever touch one of your soulmates? You didn’t even notice how strong the will to not take your hand away was until he left. Your hand left so heavy yet empty once your hand was away.

You were going to have to go out on Friday night. 

---

You walked into your apartment and left out a deep breath. You kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag to the floor. You face-first into the couch and sighed. You pulled up the couch blanket and turned on the TV.

You groaned and closed your eyes to briefly rest your eyes. 

“There is currently an attack and the underground hero Eraserhead the first responder to the situation.”

Your eyes snapped open and you sat up to watch. 

Your heart dropped once you saw his face, he really was like how Ms Joke described him. He looked so tired. 

You didn’t get to see his eyes - more like you couldn’t because of the goggles. His left shoulder was slightly dripping, making it looked like he was in pain.

You weren’t paying attention to what the anchor was saying, all you could do was focus on Shouta as you started to do soft rubs into his name on your wrist.

You notice him flinch a little regarding his left wrist, he must be feeling the pain in his shoulder down to his arm.

You saw a girl with green hair running towards the fight and try to make the baddie docile. 

Your heart dropped when you figured out it was Ms Joke. 

You quickly took note of what street they were one, noticing they were close by. 

You quickly got up to put on your shoes to start running over there.

---

You got there when the fight looked like it was ending, as police were there and the baddie was tied up with a grey scarf. 

“L/N!” You heard before you were hugged tightly by the woman with green hair.

She let you go and you saw the smiling face of Ms Joke.

“Senpai, are you okay?” You asked as you touched her arm and activated your quirk to heal anything. “I saw you on the news and rushed over.”

“Aww, aren’t you just the cutest thing.” She smiled widely. “I’m fine, nothing too damaged.”

You saw Shouta walking towards you two with a glare in his eye, an angry glare. You made a whining sound and avoided eye contact.

Ms Joke turned and smiled brightly at Shouta.

“Eraserhead! Your shoulder is hurt, right? You can get healed from my lady friend here!”

You briefly looked up at him and he only glared.

“Lady friend?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“...Kinda, I am a healer at the agency Ms Joke Senpai works for.” You answered.

He was silent for a moment until he brought out his left arm, your name showing. “Could you-?”

“Of course, it’s my job.” You reached out to his arm and activated your quirk to heal him. You did your best but you couldn’t avoid to briefly touch your name on his wrist.

Ms Joke stared with a big smile as she read your name on his wrist.

When you were done you let go and deactivated your work. “It will be stiff for a day at most, so rest it. Stretch it before training and going out.”

“Thank you.” He said sweetly.

He took a couple of seconds before walking away from you two.

“Hiding from your soulmate, F/N L/N?” Ms Joke teased with a smirk on her face.

You looked up at her and sighed. “Soulmates, Senpai. I am avoiding my soulmates.”

[excelsi-or]

just a little sweeter (pt. 10)

HELLLLOOOOOOOO~~ are you guys still there? LOL, it’s been like a month and a half since I last posted on here. The end of the semester just really got intense with projects, presentations, and finals. But I’m here and back for at least two weeks. I wanna see if I can bosh out the rest of this series before I move onto another one. 

I hope you’re all well. If you wanna update me on what’s new with you all, I’d love to know. I applied to grad school. I have one more semester left before graduation. Vaccinations have started in my area of the world. I started playing Hollow Knight (if anyone wants to talk about THIS GAME, please do. I love it.) Think that’s kinda it. 

BIPOC reeeeeccccc: N. K. Jemisin’s The City We Became is EXCELLENT. Diversity, racism, feminism, LGBTQ representation. I love it so much. One of my favourite books of the year, hands down. Nicole Crowder on IG does like upholstery and interior DIYs and content. I’ve been wanting to upholster these two chairs in my home and she put up a whole 2 min tutorial on how to do it. 

w.c. 3k (lol, it got really long oops! fluff and mature content, not quite smut, but it was definitely getting there. The first draft of this part was basically just smut, so I chopped and fixed it LOL. hope you guys still like it.)

pt.1; pt.2; pt.3; pt.4; pt.5; pt.6; pt.7; pt.8; pt. 9

“What do you mean you haven’t had sex with him yet?”

She rolls her eyes and sets a bowl in front of her previous roommate. Soobin had moved out months ago, shortly after she’d met Jihoon.

“It’s going really slow.” She slips into the seat across the table. “We haven’t really said I love you yet either.”

“What do you mean ‘haven’t really said’? What? Just ‘cause Woozi’s an idol he doesn’t know how to treat you right?”

She motions for Soobin to tuck into the food. “Jihoon is treating me wonderfully, thank you very much.” She pauses, her chopsticks hovering in the air. “It’s just… slow.”

“He has a whole child!” Soobin chews her noodles as she continues. “You’ve already passed the point of going slow.”

“It’s not as if Eunha is my child.”

“The kid spends more time here than any of our friends or your family.”

“Jihoon’s been busy.” She shrugs. “It’s easier for him to leave Eunha here than take her with him. Plus, you know the Terror likes her.”

Soobin chuckles. “That little horror of a brother of yours likes everyone.”

She smirks. “Okay, fair.” Then she waves her chopsticks between them. “But Eunha’s probably the reason why he’s going slow. We need to see if we’re compatible.” She meets Soobin’s gaze. “The man has a child.”

“It’s been months!” Soobin quickly cuts in before any interruptions. “Seven months to be exact. You would think that the next step at analyzing compatibility is whether you guys vibe in bed.”

She hums. She doesn’t want to admit out loud that yeah, she’s been having fantasies about Jihoon. However, she hasn’t gotten any clear signals from Jihoon that he wants to pursue anything further than making out on her couch after a date. And before she can broach the topic, he’s off to go get Eunha. If Jihoon never wanted to have sex with her, she wonders if that would be a deal breaker. But she really has no idea.

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Sex? No.”

“So, what do you guys talk about?”

She throws her head back with a laugh. “You say that as if the only thing you and Jae talk about is sex.”

“Well, it came up a lot when we first started dating.”

“That’s because you guys started off having sex.” She sighs, turning her noodles with the tips of her chopsticks. “This relationship is really different. I don’t know how to gauge it.”

“Do you love him?”

“I haven’t told him.”

“But you do.”

“Yeah.”

“And does Eunha put you off wanting to be with him?”

She rests her cheek in her palm. “I honestly thought she would, but she only makes me love him more.”

“Then talking about sex, even if you’re not having it, is the next step.” Soobin gauges her friend’s reaction. “Even if Jihoon is the type not to want it. You should at least know that. He’s obviously done it at one point.”

There’s a pause before they both say, “The child.”

She nods. “You’re right though. We should talk about it.”

Seungcheol knocks on the studio door. “Hey. You needed me?”

Jihoon turns in his chair and nods. “Yeah. I need a second set of ears on this song. Bumzu hyung and Soonyoung are busy.”

Seungcheol nods and falls into the seat next to Jihoon. He notices the book on the desk. It’s been sitting there for a while. “You finish it?”

Jihoon glances at the book. “Oh.” Then, he resumes clicking through the excessive number of files open on his screen. “Yeah.”

And you haven’t returned it?”

“She reads it when she comes over.” Jihoon hands over the headphones and finally catches Seungcheol’s expression. “What? Is there some big meaning behind that too?”

Ever since he started dating, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and basically everyone in the building has found various meanings in his songs and life that allude to how ‘in love’ he is. He’s not about to tell everyone he’s in love—she doesn’t even know that yet—but not everything going on is about his relationship.

Seungcheol shrugs as he adjusts the headphones on his ears. “You seem to think there isn’t.”

“God.” Jihoon sighs and turns in his chair. He drops his cheek into his palm. “Enlighten me.”

“She’s a big reader and doesn’t like to leave books unfinished. If she’s letting you hold onto it for her, for when she comes over here, that says something.”

“So does leaving my daughter in her care, but we all have something we need taken care of.” He turns back to the screen. “Now, listen to this hook for me.”

Seungcheol settles back into the seat. He bops his head along to the melody until the lyrics play clear in his ears. Wide eyed, he turns to Jihoon and pushes one headphone off his ear. “We’re not putting this on the album, are we?”

Jihoon looks over at him with an eyebrow lifted. “Why not?”

“This is such a… a bedroom… sex song.” Seungcheol shakes his head. “We can’t put this on there.”

Jihoon frowns. “What?” He looks at the file name and feels his cheeks heat up. “Whoa. Not that one.” He quickly closes the file and makes sure that it’s closed. But his checking gives Seungcheol time to see a folder with her name. There’s one for Eunha that none of the boys want to ask about, but his girlfriend? She’s fair game.

“You have a folder of songs for her?” He acts horrified. “And that was one of them?”

Jihoon tries to think of any way out of this conversation and realizes that due to his carelessness, he can’t. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“How many songs are in there? Do they all sound like that?”

“I refuse to answer those questions knowing that everyone is going to know by tomorrow and it’s already embarrassing that you know about one of them.”

“Hey.” Seungcheol’s voice goes soft. He likes to tease, but he recognizes touchy subjects when he broaches them. “Sorry. I didn’t realize. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Jihoon side eyes him. “I don’t want to admit how I feel about her to you when she hasn’t even heard all the songs on there.”

“What’s the folder for?”

“Just… inspiration.” Jihoon leans back further in his chair. “The songs on the upcoming album have come out of there. At least the less… perverted ones did.”

“There are other songs like that.” Seungcheol tries not to sound too surprised.

Jihoon’s cheeks are so warm that he takes a sip of his iced coffee. “Lately… yeah.”

“Have you…” Seungcheol shakes his head. “No. How could you? You always come home for Eunha.”

At this, Jihoon looks at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… just that if you guys were having sex, you wouldn’t come straight home to your daughter, would you? Not when all of us would know.” Seungcheol narrows his eyes. “Right?”

Jihoon doesn’t even know how to respond to that except with the truth. “Fine. No. We haven’t yet.”

“Because of her or because of you.”

“Things are going slow. I don’t know… how to broach the topic.”

“Why can’t showing up to her door with passionate kisses be enough?”

“And what? Leave Eunha with you guys overnight?”

“Yeah, why not?”

So, Jihoon does just that and it turns out so much better than he expected.

“Why does this shirt,” he mutters between kisses, “have so many buttons?”

She giggles against his lips and steadies his hands in hers. “You’re excited. Like a child. Calm down.”

Jihoon hums, obsessed with the taste of her lips and her hands around his. She guides him through the motion of unbuttoning her shirt. Once they’re undone, he pulls away slightly. She tips her head. Jihoon is gentle with her shirt, sliding it off her shoulders. Her eyes watch him the entire time, watch him admire her body as the fabric falls to the floor. His hands start from the sides of her thighs up her body, skimming over her underwear, and holding her under the arms, hands right by her breasts.

“You’re really gonna tease,” she chuckles. She closes the distance between them, kissing him and fumbling with his shirt. His shirt is easy, his sweatpants he practically steps out of. It’s once they’re both just standing in their underwear that she stops him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jihoon kisses her shoulder and up her neck to the base of her jaw. “Why would I want to stop?”

“Eunha?” she hums. The child’s face is prominent in her mind, but becomes hazy every time Jihoon sucks a spot on her neck.

“She adores you. Which gives me permission to also adore you.”

She smirks, arms wrapping around Jihoon’s neck to force him back to her lips. “I’m glad I pass the test.”

Jihoon scoops her up and carries her to the couch. She gasps in surprise, which forces him away again. Spread along the couch are a lot of her art supplies. When she turns back to him, there’s a grin on her face.

“I wasn’t expecting you to jump me tonight. I was planning to paint, so…”

“Do you want to clean first?” he chuckles.

She shrugs.

Jihoon snorts and picks her shirt up off the floor and hands it to her. As much as he wants to sleep with her, it seems tonight may not be the night. He finds his sweatpants and pulls them on then helps her move her art stuff. He sits on the coffee table while she manoeuvres her piece from the floor to the desk.

“Do you want to paint?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “I want to spend time with you.” She moves some stuff to make space for her piece.

“Do you want to teach me to paint?”

She peers over her shoulder at him. “Really?”

“Well, I’m impossible to teach, but I don’t want to leave yet.” Jihoon glances at her bare torso, as she hasn’t bothered to button the top. “And I like the view.”

She rolls her eyes, an amused smile on her face. “Are idols allowed to say stuff like that?”

Jihoon looks around her home. “Unless you have a listening device and turn me in, I’m confident to say how I feel about you.”

A smile blooms on her face at hearing that. She pulls one of her watercolour pads off the desk and motions for him to join her on the floor. She flips past the first two pages, but Jihoon still catches glimpses of them.

He grabs her wrist to stop her. “Were those of Eunha and me?”

“Oh.” She tilts her head and flips back. “Yeah.” The first page is from the night he had come over to learn to cook. The second was their first date.

Jihoon looks to her expectantly and she can only shrug.

“I draw what I like.”

Jihoon doesn’t know why he finds that embarrassing, but his ears feel warm.

She tips her head back in a laugh. “Of everything that’s happened tonight, Jihoonie, I don’t think you need to be embarrassed to hear that I like you.” She returns to the one with Eunha on it and pulls the sheet. “I wanted to give it to you, but I thought maybe it would be creepy if you knew I was painting you and your daughter from memory.”

Jihoon stares at the paintings. He can see Eunha’s expression in them; how happy she had been with the meal and the dessert. If this is what he’d look like that night, he had been extremely relaxed. His finger traces over the skin, amazed at how seamless it appears.

When his eyes lift to meet hers, she seems surprised to see tears.

“What’s wrong?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Nothing.”

She slides closer to him and her thumb brushes his tears away. “You’re crying.”

Jihoon sighs and his head tips back, as he tries to keep the tears in. “I… it’s just that…” Jihoon’s gaze rests on her again. “No one else has seen Eunha like this. The members do, but they helped me raise her. Which is why sometimes she’s an absolute menace.”

She smiles.

“But…” Jihoon studies the painting, at his baby so beautifully depicted. “I don’t know. This kind of reminds me that maybe I’m doing okay if she looks like this.”

“Jihoon, you’re doing great. She’s happy and she loves you.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m failing her all the time, and…” The tears appear again. “And I feel like I lost some of who I am, because I had her.”

She eases the sheet of paper out of his hands. Jihoon uncrosses his legs so she can move between them, draping her legs over his thighs. Her hands plant on the floor between them as she leans forward to press kisses to his face. His eyes close at the sensation. “Jihoon, she is all you. Your music is who you are. You live and breathe Seventeen. Just because you became a father doesn’t mean you lost any piece of the Jihoon that was there before she existed.”

Jihoon lifts a hand to the back of her neck to pull her closer. Painting is put on the back burner, as they get lost in the feeling of kissing each other. Jihoon’s legs curl behind her to prevent her from moving away. His free hand slips inside her shirt and finds home on her hip. His thumb moves back and forth across the skin there.

Meanwhile, her hands have pulled him as close she can get him, her fingers tangling in his hair. When she gives the hair at the base of his neck a small tug, he groans. This lets her slip her tongue into his mouth. He tastes like her coffee, unsurprisingly enough. And she has to admit, it tastes better on his tongue than in the cup.

She can feel his growing hard on through his sweatpants. When she pulls away to breathe, she asks, “So we’re not painting then?”

Jihoon hums something incoherent, because she latches her lips against his neck.

“Wait,” he breathes.

She slows her assault on his neck, but doesn’t stop.

“No hickies.”

“Simple enough,” she breathes against his skin.

Jihoon finds himself falling back onto the floor as her kisses trail all over his body. Her hands explore every muscle and memorize them. Jihoon enjoys the treatment, his eyes closing while he lets his other sense take over. She wiggles him out of his sweatpants again and then returns to his lips.

“Bed?” She adjusts her body over his, putting pressure against him, which makes it impossible for him to reply.

Jihoon looks up at her and his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. She sucks a spot on the soft skin near his jaw, but stops before it can leave a mark. He manages to roll them over.

“You’re making it really hard to think.”

She slides a leg between his, which seems just enough friction for him to grimace. “You’re thinking with something else.”

“Where’s your bed?”

Her eyes dart to her left. He helps her to standing and then lifts her. Her legs wrap around his waist. If there had been other objects in the way, he would have knocked into all of them, because she starts kissing him again. And it seems like his brain shuts off as soon as she does that. He presses her against her bedroom wall and when he ruts against her, her breath catches.

“So, you are needy.”

“Lee Jihoon, you are literally between my legs,” she manages between kisses. “Yes, I’m needy.”

Jihoon pulls away for a moment. “But you’ve seemed so calm and collected tonight.”

She rolls her eyes and gently kisses his cheeks before saying, “If I was ready to pounce on you when you walked in here, would you have wanted to fuck me?”

Jihoon jumps at the blatant term, but he pivots so that he can lay her on the bed. One of his hand sneaks between her legs, his other arm propping his body over hers, and drags his fingers over the fabric. When she squirms beneath his touch, he says, “Maybe not. But… I’ve wanted this a while.” He meets her gaze. “So I don’t think too much have scared me away tonight.”

Her head tilts back as he begins to rub his fingers in circles. He watches her carefully.

“Stop staring,” her breath hitches, “and kiss me.”

Jihoon smirks. “Make me.”

She snakes a hand behind his head to pull him down towards her. Her kisses stutter depending on the speed of his fingers. His kisses trail down to her neck and nibbles the soft skin on her collar bone. She presses her hands into his shoulders to try to keep her bearings. When he kisses back up her neck and sucks the soft spot of her jaw and she moans something beautiful, he knows that’s a sound he’s going to have in his mind long after this is over.

He slows his fingers down. “How close are you?”

Her breath is heavy; she can’t even answer him. Her rut up into his hand is good indication though.

Two of her orgasms and one of his later, he returns from the bathroom with a washcloth and gently cleans her off. Then he lies on top of her again, her hands go to massage his temples.

“So, you’re going to tell your daughter we… coloured when you came over today?” she teases.

Jihoon rests his cheek against her chest, listening to her heartbeat slowing down after the exertion. “I told her she was staying with the members because I was coming over here for a play date.”

She laughs. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

Jihoon can’t help but smile as he falls asleep.

[australiancarisi]

Rafael Barba ~ Just Some...

Sometimes Rafael gets insecure and when he does he speaks his mind words: 2178 This has literally been sitting in my drafts half-finished since march oops

“Why hello Mr ADA to what do I owe the pleasure so bright and early?” You smiled up at Rafael from your desk. It had just gone 10, rarely did Rafael come to the precinct before noon. It had been a few days since you had seen Rafael, he had been in court and the squad had recently had an influx of cases. You looked your boyfriend up and down, god he looked good today. He always looks good but today.... extra good.

“Looking for Liv” Rafael mumbled before looking around at the empty precinct “where is everyone?”

“Fin and Nick have gone to the victim's old high school, Dodds and Carisi are getting all the doctor's examination details and Liv and Rollins... I think talking to the vic’s family but I’m not too sure” you shrugged

“Why are you here then?” he asked. You frowned for a second taking your boyfriend in. He was acting strange. The normally cocky Cuban, who, when given an empty precinct, would normally jump at the chance to flirt and kiss you at work, just stood against Carisi’s desk with his hands in his pockets looking anything but cocky.

“Paperwork” you said holding up the files “I’m too far behind apparently” you rolled your eyes “you okay?”

“Yeah fine” Rafael shrugged “get Liv to call me when she in”

“Will do” you frowned as Rafael turned on his heels and walked away. In the nearly 3 years that you had been dating Rafael that was not how he acted with you, not even in the first year of you guys dating when you were still hiding it from everyone.

You and Rafael started dating just under a year after you joined SVU. You came from major crimes after SVU had a high profile case that you had helped them on. They were understaffed at the time so Liv asked your lieutenant if you could help out more. After a month of working with SVU, you knew it was where you belong. You fit in well with the team despite being a relatively young detective, you liked that you were able to help people and make a difference. It felt like you belonged there. Everything was great, except for one thing. You and Rafael did not get along. He saw things clearly in black and white whereas you saw grey. You bent the rules, so much so that they would nearly snap in half Rafael would say, and he didn’t like that. The two of you would fight and argue like cats and dogs. It wasn’t until you were put on his detail after he revealed that he was getting death threats did the two of you start to feel sparks.

You and Sonny were given the night shift after Rafael gave a guy his home address on the steps of the courthouse that day.

“I mean seriously who does that?” You grumbled as you heard Rafael get in the shower “I don’t want to be here!”

“Suck it up doll face” Sonny grinned at you

“I had leftover Thai food in my fridge! I’ve been looking forward to it all day!” You huffed like a child “if he wants to be stupid enough to give out his address that’s on him”

“Come on y/n we can’t just let him get murdered. Who else would put up with your crazy ideas?” Sonny laughed taking a seat on the couch.

“Put up with? Your kidding right? He shuts down all my ideas”

“That’s because they are usually nearly illegal”

“Exactly nearly illegal not actually illegal” Sonny was about to reply when his phone rang. You got comfy on the couch as he walked away to answer.

“I’ve gotta go” Sonny said grabbing the suit jacket that he had hung over the back of one of the chairs when he had walked in.

“Everything okay?” You frowned

“It’s Bella. She fell down some stairs and hit her heard. Knocked herself out” Sonny said

“Oh my god, Sonny go” you said basically pushing him out the door

“Are you going to be okay on your own?” Sonny asked

“We’ll be fine and at the first sign of trouble I'll call for back up I promise”

“Okay... I’ll let you know what happens” Sonny said before racing out the door. When the door closed behind him you took a moment to look around the apartment. It was just how you expected it to look. Not that you ever pictured Rafael’s apartment... it was relatively big for a New York apartment, open and airy with dark wood floors and bookcase upon bookcases. You moved around the apartment to have a closer look at things. The place really looked like a display home. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. There wasn’t any real sign of living besides the files Rafael had out of the table when he walked in and the single photo of him and who you assumed were his mother and grandmother. They all had the same eyes. You kept looking around Rafael’s apartment. You pulled out a law book and started flicking through it.

“I’m pretty sure being a part of my protective detail isn’t to look through my stuff” you jumped at Rafael’s voice.

You spent the night at Barba’s, despite the constant complaining from him. It took the squad about a week to find and arrest the people threatening Barba. Catching them, however, didn’t stop you from telling Barba what an idiot he was in the first place. The two of you bickered back and forth for months until it built up and burst when Barba cupped your face and kissed you late one night in his office while you were arguing about a case. That kiss led to taking him back to your place.

After a couple months of fooling around together, the two of you decided to actually pursue a relationship. It was actually after Rafael got jealous after a case. He and the squad went out to a bar to celebrate. You’re young, the youngest on the squad and there were a lot of people throwing themselves at you. Rafael was not happy with that. You disclosed 2 months after officially getting together after Nick accidentally walked in on the two of you in Rafael’s office.

Over a couple of hours, everyone had made their way back to the precinct. You’d finally caught up on enough paperwork to be able to get in on the current case. You tired texting Rafael throughout the day but got no response. Which was weird. Rafael always responded to your messages no matter who he was with unless he was in court but you knew he wasn’t. The squad were sitting around throwing out theories and evidence on the case, which unfortunately wasn’t much at all.

“So basically what you are saying is we have nothing” Fin sighed “We need a warrant to search the teacher's house”

“Barba is not going to get us a warrant based on this” Sonny said pointing to the whiteboard

“Not us but maybe....” Amanda trailed off as she turned her attention to you

“Normally I would agree but not today” you frowned at your phone, still no response

“What have you done this time?” Mike smirked as you grabbed a nearby piece of paper and threw it at him

“Nothing! He was here earlier looking for Liv. Did you talk to him?” You asked

“He wanted to go over some motions the defence in the Merlot case were filing” Liv said

“Did he seem normal to you?”

“As normal as Barba can be” Nick laughed earning high fives from Amanda and Mike, two which you threw paper at them as well. Liv shrugged and the conversation went back to the case at hand.

After another couple of hours and you finally had enough evidence to get a warrant. Mike threw the file down on your table. 

“Why me?” You asked 

“Just to make sure we actually get the warrant, get the warrant and then you can clock off for the day” Mike smirked “No funny business while you’re still on the clock” 

“Seriously how are you a Sargent?” You rolled your eyes before picking up your phone “Hey Carmen... Need to come down and talk him into getting us a warrant just wanna check he’s free...huh...no he didn’t...okay thanks” 

“Everything good?” Sonny asked 

“Yeah all good” you smiled packing up your stuff and picking up the file “I’ll let you guys know if I can convince him to try and get us the warrant” 

You left the precinct and headed straight to Rafael’s place. The two of you spent most nights at either his place or yours, more often his because it was closer to both the courthouse and the precinct then yours and the fact that Rafael usually worked later than you. You’d have to go and pull him out of his office. 

But not tonight. 

Carmen informed you that Rafael had left the office an hour before you called. This wasn’t like Rafael. Leaving work early... Not responding to messages... something was up. 

You quietly opened the door to Rafael’s apartment using the spare key Rafael had given you. Rafael was sitting in his armchair, scotch in hand. The apartment was eerily quiet. 

“Hey Raf” You said breaking the silence. He didn’t respond, didn’t even look at you. “Hey... Rafi... are you okay?” 

“Of course why wouldn’t I be?” Rafael asked taking a sip of his drink, still never looking at you. You sighed and threw your stuff down. 

“Rafael, what is going on?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I haven’t seen you outside of the courthouse or precinct in days and you are giving me nothing” you said “So I repeat what is going on?” 

“I saw you the other day on the steps of the courthouse” Rafael said after a moment of silence. You frowned trying to think back. “with that beat cop” 

“... Officer Jackson? the rookie? the new guy at our precinct?” You asked

“Your precinct” he corrected “and yes... you looked... cosy” 

“... Rafael... are you jealous? Seriously? of some kid?” You asked. Rafael had a jealous streak, it was the reason you got together because he couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. He was overprotective as well. He hated having to watch you go on stings and into interrogations with violent men or having to watch you flirt with them. 

“You say some kid as if you weren’t in his shoes not too long ago” Rafael mumbled. It was something that was joked about a bit between you and the squad, the fact that there was a bit of an age gap between you and Rafael. It never bothered you and Rafael though. 

“Rafi... really?” You asked him,. He just shrugged and took another sip of scotch. “So you saw me with another cop and now you’re being a moody teenager?” 

“He’s young, a cop. You were laughing...smiling...” Rafael sighed “I just don’t get it... Out of everyone you picked me and that surprises me cause I was alway last inline” 

“Not my line” you smiled

“That’s why I’m overprotective of you” Rafael said finally looking you in the eye placing the scotch on the coffee table next to him. “I have something... someone that I don’t deserve and I don’t want to lose it” 

“Rafi” you whispered. You slowly moved closer to him hoping that he would let you in. When he didn’t object you sat in his lap. You wrapped an arm around him, running your fingers through the back of his hair. 

“Sometimes it still hits me...” Rafael whispered “Like why me? Why does she want to spend the rest of her with me?” 

“Rafi, why wouldn’t I? You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy. A soul mate, a best friend. You are everything to me Rafi” You said “I love you Rafi, you and only you” 

“You deserve so much more than me”

“Why? Why do you think that?” 

“Because I’m just some fat Cuban kid from the Bronx. Who had a crappy dad, who couldn’t look after himself I always had to have Eddie or Alex fix my problems” 

“Just some... Rafael, you are a lawyer, not just any lawyer but a Harvard educated lawyer. You are a respected New York City ADA... You might not see how amazing you are but I do” 

“You deserve-” 

“I get to decide what I deserve” You cut him off “and I deserve you. I love you. I love you more than anything and no young rookie is gonna ever take me from you” 

“Thank you” Rafael sighed. You leant down and kissed him 

“Now a hot defence lawyer well....” you smirked at him causing him to laugh 

“I love you” Rafael kissed your hand that wasn’t in his hair. 

“Don’t forget it” you grinned at him “Now the actual reason I’m here we need a warrant for.......”

[yellowhippo]

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂 2 : 𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐

I move amongst the crowd, lost but entranced by the buzzing people and the honking of cars.

It's been a week since I last saw Jade walk away towards her school and here I am, still in the same busy city hoping for one last look from her before leaving. Every morning and late afternoons, I'd take a sit outside of a small library by the station. Maybe, just maybe, I'd get to see her get down or see her off before she leaves for home. No luck though. It's my bas anyway for not asking her time off from classes. Guess luck's just not on my side. One train ride was all I had.

One train ride was enough to wake my passion up and gear myself up for a fight.

"Here's the book you wanted to have extended." The granny who runs the library puts the book on the table with a homey smile.

I smile back and bow as I stood, ready to take my leave with the book securely hugged between my arms and chest. It was one of the many books you recommended me while we were on the train.

"Perhaps you would like that book to yourself, young man?" I look down to the granny as she pats my shoulder. "You don't have to return that here. But feel free to read here on your spot if you'd like. I barely have any customers except for that one young lady who frequents this shop. I haven't seen her for a week though. She loved that book as well. Kept borrowing it even though she's finished reading it. Gave her a copy as well as an early graduation present."

"Lady?" I ask as I remember Jade saying how she loved visiting a certain library with homey vibes and the kindest librarian too.

"Yes. She's actually from the school over there-" She looks over at Jade's school, sparking a fire in my heart. "-a double major, I believe. But you must forgive this granny. My mind is a fog and I don't remember much details. But I do know she's got green eyes that sets her apart from anyone else. Must not be from around here."

"Thank you, ma'am! I really am." Without control over my own body for some reason, I hugged the elderly as I stepped down the patio of the library.

"I'll visit again! Thank you!" I raised the book and waved it in the air as I ran backwards and waving at the elderly lady with a smile.

But I have been stuck in my dorm this whole week. With finals coming up and papers due in no time, I could not even leave for some fresh air. Let alone find a street for my dream home.

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I stare back down at my laptop, only a page full, 19 more to go. Wanting to distract myself for a few minutes, I look around my room and spot a book by the window. I stood up and reached for it. A sad smile forms on my face as I caress the cover of the old copy of "The Little Prince" from the local library shop just down the street of this school. I miss the granny that owns the little library. The library rarely gets many customers, what with the books in her shop mostly classics and are outdated. Only a student or some tourist trying to find some gems come and go. 

'I wonder how she's doing' I look out the window having the perfect view of the little library from down the road. Maybe I should visit? Work on my paper there. I'm pretty sure granny could use some company like I do. And I missed her muffins that she personally bakes in her room upstairs the shop.

Grabbing my bag, I pack my laptop and the stack of papers full of my drafts and notes. I also bring my copy of "The Little Prince" as I run out of my dorm and down the busy streets, the little homey library just a few puffs of breath away. My legs ache from unuse, but the awaiting warmth from granny and her place is worth the ache.

"Granny!" I greet as I see you sitting on the chair at your patio.

"Ah my little miss. I was just thinking about you." A crinkled smile meets me as I run to hug her.

"Me?"

"Yes you dear one. A young man has been frequenting my shop for a week and sits here with a certain book in hand as well." She stares at my arms hugging my copy of "The Little Prince" that she personally gave me after having borrowed it a number of times.

"Young man? Is he a student at my school too?"

"I don't think he is. Seems like he's not from around here either. Like you."

A name comes to mind. 'Ace?'

"Gonna get some work done?" Granny points to my bag and I nod with sigh.

"Let me get those muffins in the oven then." A pat on my head and she's off to her little home above the library.

As I was left to sit on the patio, I look around hoping to see that brunette mop of hair under a beret of tall and lean guy. My eyes drift towards the road leading to the train station but I see no trace of who I was looking for.

It's all that ever pushes me up my bed.

But it's also all that keeps me pushing my family away.

I want this dream to include my family. They may not see the future that I want to work on as they already have everything planned and laid out for me after I comeback from this 'vacation'. They think that this could help freshen me up and see that they are right. I do love my family as they love me, but we're not always seeing the same picture and it drives me insane knowing that we never will be on the same page.

"How's the vacation going, kiddo?"

"When are you coming back? I need to set the date for the company's turn over soon and you obviously need to be there, son."

"Hyung! Don't forget to bring a present  home for me!"

Voice message after voice message greeted me back in my hotel room after I came from the library. I look at the book on my bed and open to the last page where the previous borrowers' names were, and the two most current ones were from a month ago.

'Jade Myers' A chuckle makes its way out as I read the name and remembered how Jade talked about this book. It's not a big favorite of hers, but she keeps finding herself grabbing it and reading again until the end.

 [flashback]

"I keep wondering if the prince got back home and what he's doing." The old lady who sat beside you has left and as I sat back down beside you, you open a book to the final page.

"What's that about?" I jut my chin towards the book. "-a children's book?"

"You don't know 'The Little Prince'?" You stare up at me in surprise, closing the book and faced the cover up as she points at the blonde boy on the cover.

"Never heard of him. Must be an obnoxious one?" I shrug as you gasp into your palm before hitting me lightly on the shoulder.

"What? No. See, it's about how the prince traveled." You whip your hands excitedly as you tell me the story, your eyes shining with every new adventure the boy has and with every new creature he meets.

[end flashback]

Like the Little Prince, you dreamed of the unknown.

Like the Little Prince, you've gone on your adventure.

After about an hour of working on my papers, granny came back out with a basket of her muffins. She sat in front of me with a smile and a caress to my cheek, her gentle eyes meeting mine.

"Did the man say anything?” I dropped my pen and closed my laptop, grabbing one of the steaming muffins and burning my fingers in the process.

“Just that he would be visiting again.” A knowing smile mixed with a curious look, granny offers me a napkin.

“Visit again? Soon?”

“Is this young man your lover, little miss? Your curiosity is leading me to think that you young ones are-“

I cut granny off with a wave of my hands and a shake of my head, a raisin choking me in the process as I hurriedly chewed wanting to deny the impression granny has.

“We’re not, granny. I just happened to meet him and he piqued my interest, that’s all.”

“Well, you might meet him again if you decide to comeback as well. I have a feeling he’s going to be another frequent customer while he’s here in town.”

I stared out on the streets, people to engrossed in their own lives that they don’t even have time for such trivial things like a visit at their local library shop and grab some rare finds. I can’t blame them. They have their own world to rotate about, pretty much like the Little Prince does. But at least he was able to travel and see other places that he thought never existed.  At least before going home, he had no regrets.

It’s lightly raining outside. I was planning on coming back to the library and read the book there. Maybe even enjoy the company of the elderly librarian. She had this warm aura surrounding her that makes you want her company to be a constant. Even the library oozes the same aura as her. Homey. Warm. Home.

I grab the book by the window as I sit and read a few pages while waiting for my breakfast. Umbrellas scurrying as they open and close - the only view I have from my window and only the pitter patter of the rain on the window sill for my background noise. I smile sadly down as I see a picture of a lone rose. It had no one. Or maybe it did? I don’t really know. Every time I open a page to read, my mind travels towards that one Sunday train ride with Jade and I remember her stories. But her eyes screaming defeat. As if she has accepted a fate not her own. A fate that leaves her all alone in the end. Pretty much like this lone flower now.  

But she has dreams. And I want to meet her again and tell her to go for it. Only she can create her fate. Only she can define the future she wants. She can still make a path for herself. She has so much more she can fight for. She doesn’t have to fight alone. She doesn’t have to end up like this rose. Is it perhaps the reason she keeps reading this book? She feels alone like this rose? I was right then. The prince was obnoxious enough to leave the rose all on its own. Well I’m not him. I’ve been fighting, and just when I was about to take my last fight before curling in on what people expect of me, Jade made me want to keep fighting. I want to return the favor in any way. Be her pillar. Be a different prince who’s brave enough to stand by her until she wins her fight.

Another lazy morning for me as my classes doesn’t start until the afternoon. It’s raining out just when I was about to leave campus and have breakfast at the library with granny. Hoping to maybe meet a certain gentleman who might become a frequent customer while he’s in the city. I wonder though. Ace, as far as I remember hearing his stories, he’s not one to stay in a place for too long. It’s been almost a month now since that day we met on the train. How long does he stay in one place? A week? A month? Somewhere in between? I hope I at least get to meet him before he leaves this town. A thanks, no matter how petty it might be, is still something I wish to give him. He made me realize that I should keep running for my dreams. There will be sacrifices and regrets along the way, but in the long run? It’s all for my happiness and contentment.

I just want to get out of this box already. I want to set myself free. I want to experience and realize on my own just like the Little Prince. I want to see what life can feed my dreams. I want to really live.

The rain is not stopping; instead it got stronger after a few minutes. Why rain today? Is he there? Probably keeping dry inside. Maybe he’s getting a taste of granny’s muffins as well and some tea. Should I run over there? It’s just down the street. I can always dry myself at granny’s. I can bring some dry clothes with me to change with before I leave for class. Granny’s going to be alone too. More people would be staying inside their own homes, hunched over a book, rather than a library no matter how cozy the library may be.

I decided to go for a visit. Ace or no Ace, I have granny and hopefully some of her hot chocolate and cookies. I dress lightly and put on my hoodie, my schoolbag on my shoulder and a change of dry clothes in a paper bag. I ran from building to building only stopping for a few seconds to shake myself dry. I laugh to myself as I should’ve brought my umbrella and spared myself from running like a wet chic under the rain. Well, this is what laziness does. Or just simply dumbness? I guess both? I mean, who wouldn’t bring an umbrella in this down pour? Obviously an airhead like me. Not wanting to climb the stairs back up my dorm, I continue running from building  to building, shed to shed, keeping myself as dry as this downpour could offer. I’m reaching the library, just a few more roofs away.

“A-ace?” My words stumble out as I ran towards another roof, seeing granny’s patio just a few more strides away. Not noticing that I have walked out from under the roof to get a clearer view of Ace, he pulls me over the patio of the library, his hands on my head trying to keep me dry, though we both know it’s going to be a failed attempt. He opens the door and pushes me in as he soon follows.

“Hey!” I giggle as I cover my face from how he’s shaking his head dry splattering me with water as well.

“Hey to you too, Jade. So much for keeping yourself dry, huh?” He pulls my hood down as he points at my wet hair.

“Where’s your umbrella?” We gasped as we asked at the same time. We shared a chuckle and some shy stares that led us looking down the floor instead.

A shuffle from upstairs made us look up and saw granny with towels and some old clothes in her hands.

“Look at you two! Come quickly and dry yourselves upstairs. These kids-“ Granny pushes us upstairs as she drops a towel and clothes in each of mine and Ace’s hand.

“Oh come sit while you wait for her.”

“Thank you ma’am.”

“Please. Call me granny. The neighborhood kids all do. Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

“Some tea would be perfect. Thank you granny.” I sit as she waddles her way to her kitchen. The rain has dwindled down to softer pitter patter with occasional thunder from afar. As I look out the window, I chuckle to myself. Fate did its wonders.

“Where did granny go?” Jade appears from the stairs, the towel resting on her head as she dries her hair.

We both turn our heads as the smell of something sweet wafts from the kitchen.

“That enough answer your question?” I smile towards Jade with knuckles on my chin as she sat at the other side of the table.

“Oh?” She points at the book under my towel on the table with glittering eyes. “Did you borrow it from here?”

“No. I gave him his own copy.” Granny’s soft voice made our heads turn towards the kitchen. I stood in haste as I helped her with the tray, 2 cups of steaming drinks and a bowl of cookies with muffins on a plate.

“Gave? You have a new favorite customer now?” Jade pouts up at her as she places the hot chocolate in front of her the tea beside my book.

“Little miss, I don’t have favorites. But I do have those regulars. Now away with that sadness and make yourself warm and full.”

The two of them was a sight. The way granny pats her head and the way she automatically knows that Jade prefers hot chocolate over any warm drink. Jade in return seems relaxed. She looks free. I stare at the lovely scene unfold before me with a content smile as I sip my tea.

A comfortable silence envelops the room. Jade has her nose buried in her books. Granny was on the kitchen preparing lunch. As for me? I’ve been nibbling on a muffin as I read ‘The Little Prince’.  Now I see what Jade sees. Turns out this kid, the little prince, was an adventurer of some sort. Probably Jade sees herself in him? In the rose left alone?

I look towards the seat in front of me and see my own rose I’d wish to keep by my side. But like the little prince, I have to leave. I’ve realized what it means to go back. It’s not entirely giving up but more of acceptance and finally growing up. My smile is serene when my eyes meet Jade’s as she lifts her head up from her book.

“What are you looking at, huh, little prince?” She snapped her fingers just inches from my eyes, a total contrast of her own that hides the adventurer within herself. A soul waiting for the door to open and to be let out and fly away. I can see that she’s held down by something which leaves her trapped in her spot.

“Just thinking how childish you are for liking children’s books at your age.” A chuckle and my tongue out, I shake my book in front of her and use it to block out her attack - throwing a broken piece of cookie at me.

“See? Mature.” I was able to catch the cookie and pop it in my mouth as I opened the book and hid my face from her, not before lolling my tongue out again to spite her further.

“Yeah and lolling your tongue out is mature?” A comfortable silence with the pitter patter of the rain and granny’s distant humming as the background noise.

‘Where will you go, little prince?’ I think to myself as Ace and I settle back down with the comfortable silence. His eyes differently shine from before. It’s not dimmer, just a different kind of shine. A shine that lost something but gained something new.

“Where to next?” I say out loud.

“Home.” He smiled as he closed The Little Prince and put his chin on his palm as he finished his cup of coffee.

“Home?” My face tilted in question as I closed my own book.

“Yes. Home.” He chuckled as he grabbed a piece of cookie.

My thoughts went haywire for a moment.

“You can’t give up!” Unknowingly, I stood up, both my palms slamming on the table.

“I mean – sorry.” I sat back down slowly as I fanned my face with my hands and hid my heating up face back on my book.

“Thank you.” Ace said gently as a hand pulls my book down, exposing myself to the unknown which is Ace.

“This isn’t me giving up. This is me fighting in a way that I don’t need to keep running. I’m fighting and ready to accept whatever may come.” He leans towards me, both his arms on the table as I stare back, mouth agape and face feeling hotter than before. “So. Thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?” I ask still breathless from my sudden burst out moments ago. I get a shrug as he leans away and continues reading ‘The Little Prince’, avoiding my question, with that serene smile of his I remember from when we parted just outside my school. I relax my tense shoulders as I smile down at my book. ‘This isn’t me giving up.’ His words play over and over my head like a mantra pushing me forward.

Jade and I left the library sometime after lunch, promising granny another visit on the weekend. I promised granny to be an early bird for her and help setting up the library for the day and in return, she promised to cook something I like. I earned a glare from Jade as she heard the exchange of promises with granny pinching her cheeks assuring her that she was still the favorite along with me. She stomped her way back to her school as granny and I watched laughing from the door of the library.

“And as for this little prince of ours.” Granny turned towards me with her warmest smile. She handed me an umbrella while I shook my head, refusing gently, as the rain was only a drizzle as compared to this morning. She huffed and grabbed my hand shoving the umbrella towards me, a finality in her look.

“Thank you, granny.” I awkwardly hugged and looked at her, my eyes meeting teary ones. She hurriedly wiped her eyes with her shawl while chuckling.

“It’s nothing. I guess this old lady will just miss you when you leave.”

A lump was stuck in my throat. In just a matter of weeks in this town, I felt like I finally found a niche, a home.

“Oh granny.” I wiped her cheek as a stray tear rolled down. “I’ll come visit once everything is settled back at home.” I cringed at the last word. Home? This was home already. A home which made me understand and see myself. “Besides we still have this weekend. I’ll be here even before your feet touches the floor when you wake up.” She hits my arm gently and shoos me off.

“Get back to your hotel now before the rain picks up again.” She wipes at her eyes and I hug her once again as I waved my hands and thanked her for letting me borrow the umbrella.

“You stay dry now, little prince.” She waved her hands, staying on her spot as she watched me with her warm smile, her eyes never leaving me while I turned the street.

As I bought a sandwich for dinner back in the hotel, I remembered what Jade had asked me as we were eating lunch with granny.

“Would you be okay going back home?” she asked as she chewed on her first bite. Granny then held my hand, her face contorts with worry. I place my other hand on top of hers and pats gently as I nod towards Jade.

“Yes, more than fine.” I think I finally found my purpose, thanks to my last stop.

“We’ll be here for you, alright?” Granny squeezes my hand in hers and I smile back at her. Not only did I find my purpose but I found a home that filled the void in my heart.

I’m complete. I’m alive.

“I’ve packed my bags.” Ace said as the three of them sat at the library’s patio, each nibbling on a muffin and their hot drinks keeping them warm.

“You’re going back home.” It wasn’t a question though Jade wanted it to be so badly and get a ‘no’ from Ace. His presence helped her after all to take brave steps ahead for her dreams.

“My family needs me and I think my I’ve traveled enough. I’ve found what I lost.” Ace sips his tea as he turns his head towards granny. “Granny, you have to tell me your secret recipe. No one would be baking these for me back home.”

Granny chuckles and nods towards Ace as she held his hand in hers firmly. The rest of the morning was spent with Jade showing Ace her favorite books and she would earn a chuckle from Ace.

“Just how many times have you actually borrowed these?” Ace finds himself endeared at the thought of Jade’s name almost occupying all the dates from the library card with her name from top to bottom of the list.

“I love reading.” She huffs as she grabs the current book, The Wizard of Oz, in Ace’s hand.

“You love reading children’s books?”

“I love reading because I feel like I’ve travelled and met all the people in these books.”

Ace smiles as Jade looks down at the books’ cover.

“You’ll travel too.”

Jade looks up at him and smiles.

“I think I’ve met one of them.”

“Met who?”

“The cowardly lion. Well a cowardly prince who’s now found his courage.”

When Ace gave Jade a questioning look, she pulled him towards one of the bean bags and sat facing each other. She proceeded to tell him the story of how Dorothy landed in Oz and met all these characters who think they lack certain things and finds themselves accompanying Dorothy to meet the wizard and hear how they don’t really lack on things. Their journey itself served its purpose with the help of Dorothy was they able to realize that they’ve always been complete.

Ace was smiling all throughout the storytelling as he reminisce the train ride they met and how passionate Jade was explaining how The Little Prince was no usual children’s book. Now he is seeing the Jade on the train, her hands busy flailing between them as she now explains how Dorothy and her new friends helped each other all throughout the quest to find the wizard.

The fire in her eyes never left. It was already there even before they met. All it needed was a rekindling to keep it aflame and alive.

Jade takes a deep breath after telling the story and snapped her fingers in front of Ace.

“Earth to Ace. Did you even listen?”

“Of course. It was the most wonderful journey I’ve heard.” Ace smiles serenely at her. “I beg to differ though. I am no lion. Cowardly, yes. But you on the other hand.” He points at a flower by the window as it absorbs the early sunrays. “You’re a hybrid of the flower from The Little Prince and Dorothy.”

She looks at him and tilting her head as she tries to understand what he just told her. He stands up and ruffles her hair fondly and walks towards a book shelf as he found the book Jade was talking about and started to read as he sat back down. The silence stretched until late afternoon with only a few people coming in to borrow or inquire about a book. Granny left them in their own bubble as she buzzed around quietly, smiling endearingly at the two.

                                                        * * *

It was early evening when the two joined granny in the lobby and helps her close the library for the night.

“Thank you for the help, you two.” She looks at Jade and Ace as she caressed both of their cheeks.

“You know I love helping you out.” Jade said as she held granny’s hand.

“Thank you.” Ace whispered as he leaned closer to granny’s warm touch, his eyes flicking from granny to Jade. “I need to get going if I want to hop on the last train tonight.”  Leaning away, he sighs.

“Come visit again when you can.” Granny smiled up at him meeting his sad eyes. Jade sniffs quietly beside him.

“I meet you crying and I’ll leave with you still crying?” Ace chuckles as he awkwardly reaches his hand out to wipe Jade’s tears. She shakes her head as she brings out a handkerchief in her pocket and wipes her own tears. Ace instead ruffles her hair with a smile.

“When I come back, I want my subject to ne happy.”

“I am happy?” Jade says. “I’m glad you’ve found what you were looking for.”

“Yeah my last stop brought me to her.”

Jade hid a blush as she looks out the window, stars already lighting up the sky.

Ace grabs for his coat as Jade and granny walked him out.

“Accompany him to the station.” Granny whispered as Jade stood with her watching Ace walk further.

“Hey, Ace!” She ran towards him and stood beside him. “Granny told me to accompany you to the station. It’s getting late. She doesn’t want you to get lost on your way.

“Of course she did.” He laughed as he looked back at granny and with a final wave, he turned and walked back to his hotel with Jade beside him. They ate a light dinner and checked out, his bag in hand.

With the moon lighting the road ahead, they walked to the station.

                                                       * * *

“Our last stop.” Jade said after Ace bought his ticket. He nods with a heavy sigh as he tries to meet her avoiding eyes.

“Just a pit stop. Our race will continue. Remember our bet?” He catches her eyes as she laughs at that.

“I remember.” She says quietly as her eyes move up to finally meet his.

It’s as if time stopped as they stood facing each other. They were once again inside their own bubble, like how they always end up when together. The announcement for Ace’s train leaving soon pops their bubble and Jade’s heart stopped for a second.

“Goodnight, Jade.” His voice was soft but he knew she heard him clearly. She squeezed on his handkerchief in her hand as he started to walk backwards towards the train doors, their eyes never leaving each other.

Tears threaten to fall on her eyes but she held back as she walked forward the train doors. The gap between the train and the platform separating them. A whistle startled them both with a guard telling Jade to move a little away as the doors would close soon. The two laughed as she took a step back.

“Goodnight, Ace. Goodnight.” The doors close slowly as the train engines roar to life. The train chugs away under the moonlight.

[anotherkpopvictim]

Seven Is Our Lucky Number - OT7 Story Chapter 2

Chapter 2: When Yoongi met Hoseok

A/N: Here’s chapter two, I hope you enjoy!

Relationship: BTS X BTS (Yoongi X Hoseok focused)

Rating: G

Words: 1966

Italics = flashback

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Over the last few months of social distancing due to the global pandemic, the group took the time where they couldn’t be with their fans to instead do things that they wouldn’t typically get to do. Like devoting lots of time to their mental health, and working on their own personal music. They also had a lot of sex, so none of them were complaining.

Besides working on personal things and going at it like rabbits, they also spent some time doing more domestic activities. For example, sitting down and eating dinner together at the table at least two times a week. It was a change as most of the time they were just too busy to do it, but they happily accepted the new resolution as it meant spending more quality time together.

 “So...there’s something I’ve been thinking about lately,” Namjoon commented one day over one said dinner.

The others were all chowing down delightedly on the home-cooked meal provided to them by Seokjin and Yoongi, and most only made unattractive noises in response to the leader.

Jimin hummed around his mouthful of food and spoke up indulgently, “What’s that?”

“You know how we always joke that seven is a special number to us?” he received six head nods in reply, “Well, I’ve discovered two more sevens in our journey.”

Jin looked rather skeptically at the leader, “Don’t tell me you believe in lucky numbers?”

Namjoon shrugged nonchalantly, “Not necessarily. I just thought it was an interesting coincidence.”

“So what is this coincidence?” Jungkook inquired.

The leader turned to the eldest rapper in the group. “Yoongi do you remember what day it was when we first met?”

Yoongi raised his head from where he’d been mostly focused on his rice and thought for a moment, “The day we met? Ah...oh, sometime in the beginning of July in 2010.”

“July 7, 2010, to be exact,” Namjoon corrected, “The seventh day of the seventh month of the year.”

Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi had all let out a of chorus of curious ‘huh’s.

“Freaky,” Jungkook exclaimed, his bright grin a stark contrast to his words. Jin rolled his eyes at his strange antics.

Taehyung was the only one sitting rather quietly at the other end of the table where he was now poking at his rice and avoiding everyone’s gazes. No one really seemed to notice his silence, though.

“Definitely an interesting coincidence,” Hoseok said, eyes narrowed in thought. “But couldn’t we technically find just as many twos or fours linked to our past. Or any other number?”

“Perhaps,” Namjoon shrugged, “But it got me thinking “what if?”, you know?”

And that was that.

After Namjoon’s mention of the coincidence, it kind of fell to the back of everyone’s mind.

Now, Yoongi definitely wasn’t a very superstitious person, but he had to agree with Namjoon - it was curious.

It was a few weeks after Namjoon had first brought it up that Yoongi and Hoseok were curled up together on their living room couch. The younger man had convinced the older to watch a movie with him but he honestly wasn’t all that interested in it.

Yoongi was much more interested in Hoseok, in his bright demeanor and insightful comments on the film. He was so different from the boy who he had first met.

March 14, 2011

It was about eight months after Yoongi and Namjoon had first met, and Bang PD had moved the two of them out of the dorm they shared with eight other trainees and set them up in their own place. It was a small apartment, but Yoongi couldn’t be happier with the move. The CEO told them that he was really starting to get things together for their group and wanted them to be settled into their own place before he introduced another potential member.

Yoongi used the apartment as his studio while the boss looked on finding him a proper room at the company. The rapper had created a dent in the cheap leather sofa in their living room and had the coffee table covered in coffee cups and empty take-out containers.

The pout on his lips and frustrated furrow to his brow became more and more apparent as he tapped frantically at his keyboard and mouse pad.

“What the hell?” he hissed lowly, eyes darting around his laptop screen in hopes of finding the file that had suddenly disappeared. He had been rubbing at his dry eyes when his elbow accidentally bumped his laptop a few times and then without any notice, the music he’d been working on was gone.

Yoongi’s heart sank in his chest, anger rising up his throat as he cursed under his breath. “No, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”

He searched every possible folder the file could be hidden in three times over and came up with nothing. The best he could find was a rough draft from a few days ago. All the work of the last seventy-two hours was gone with just a few accidental bumps.

Yoongi was overtired and angry at the universe. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the black strands before groaning loudly into his palms, irritated.

“Um...”

Yoongi jumped at the sudden voice and looked up from his hands to see an unfamiliar boy standing in the apartment doorway.

Shit, Yoongi thought, I forgot Namjoon said someone was moving in today. How he could forget something as important as that, he didn’t know. Sometimes he just became so invested in his music that everything else kind of just...disappeared around him.

The boy, who couldn’t have been much younger than Yoongi, was doing a terrible job at hiding the fear in his expression. Yoongi was sure that his own face was the cause of that - he was probably screaming anger and frustration.

The two of them were awkwardly frozen for a minute where neither of them really knew what to do, before Yoongi finally gathered himself together. He stood up from the couch and took a few steps towards the newcomer. “Ah...hi...sorry you had to see that...I’m Yoongi.”

The other boy smiled politely, albeit hesitantly. “Jung Hoseok.”

Yoongi was taken aback momentarily by Hoseok’s smile. It was bright and seemed to light up the room with a single flash. The rapper cleared his throat, “I apologize for the terrible first impression of me.”

Hoseok blinked, surprised, “That’s okay. We all get a little bit angry sometimes, right?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi replied, letting out a breath of relief.

“Can I ask what made you so angry?” the younger boy asked curiously.

Yoongi grunted, “I lost the last three days of work I did on a song. Doesn’t seem like I’m going to get it back.”

Hoseok winced sympathetically, “Ooh, that sucks. I’m sorry about that, Yoongi-ssi.”

“I’ll get over it eventually,” Yoongi said, though he wasn’t sure if it was to assure Hoseok or convince himself. “Let me show you around the dorm.”

The apartment wasn’t anything more than a small kitchen connected to the main room and a narrow hallway on the other side of the room that led to a tiny bathroom and a bedroom with two bunk beds. The paint was peeling off the walls in some places and there were creaks in the floorboards loud enough to wake a hibernating bear, but it was a place to live and that was really all Yoongi could ask for.

“It’s not much,” Yoongi commented after the tour had finished and he sat on the bottom bunk of one of the beds as Hoseok unpacked some of his things. “But it’s home.”

Hoseok turned to him after tucking away some of his shirts in one of the empty drawers of the dresser. “I like it. It’s small and cozy. It doesn’t feel totally alien from my home.”

“So, what’s your specialty, Hoseok-ah?” Yoongi asked.

The younger blushed slightly at the question, “Oh...I’m a dancer. That’s probably my only strong suit at this point. Bang PD-nim wants me to learn how to sing or rap, but...I don’t know...”

Yoongi frowned, not liking the dejected look in the younger’s eyes. “Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Give it a good try first before worrying about it.”

Hoseok nodded, “You’re right. Thanks, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Call me hyung,” Yoongi replied, “And as far as rap goes, you can come to me or Namjoon for help any time you’d like. Can’t help you when it comes to singing, though.”

“You were an underground rapper, right?”

Yoongi hummed in affirmation, “I came here to be a producer but plans changed.”

“That’s so cool that you know how to make you’re own music!” Hoseok exclaimed. “I wish I was that talented.”

“I’ll teach you about producing too, then. But, you have to teach me some cool dance moves.”

Hoseok smiled, but unlike before, this was a full-on, genuine smile oozing happiness. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his body seemed to vibrate with energy and joy.

If Yoongi’s heart skipped a beat before, it was tripping over itself now.

“Thanks, Yoongi-hyung!”

“Yoongi-hyung! Yoongi-hyung! Min Yoongi!”

The rapper blinked rapidly, brought back to reality by Hoseok waving obnoxiously in front of his face. He batted the hands away before he took in the pout on his boyfriend’s face.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention since the movie ended like ten minutes ago,” Hoseok said. “What’s going on inside that head of yours that took you so far away, huh?”

“Sorry,” Yoongi replied, “And, ah...I was thinking about the first time we met.”

Hoseok cocked an eyebrow curiously, “Why?”

“Honestly, I was wondering if there was the number seven involved somewhere.”

The lead dancer chuckled at the older man, “Namjoonie got you thinking “what if?” too?”

Yoongi curled into Hoseok’s shoulder more and mumbled a confirmation. He sighed into the younger’s neck and shut his eyes.

“So? Did you find any sevens?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi furrowed his brow in thought, “The date doesn’t have any sevens in it...” he trailed off as a moment flashed across his mind. A snapshot of the front door of their apartment. “Oh my god, wait, the apartment number!”

Hoseok looked confused, “Of our first apartment? It was...” his eyes lit up in recognition. “Seventy-seven.”

Yoongi nodded. “But we always forgot it because the landlord refused to put new numbers on our door.”

He thought about that old apartment - how it was much too small for seven growing boys to live in together. How sometimes he (they) felt suffocated not having anywhere to go to get away from each other if they wanted to.

And yet, Yoongi couldn’t say that he’d hated the place. When they first moved out of it and there was no longer a need for the seven boys to share one room, Yoongi found himself tossing and turning at night. It was too silent in the room, only Jin’s soft breathing could be heard. But Yoongi was used to the melody of six breathing patterns together and it made him anxious to not be hearing them. It took weeks after first moving before he got a decent night’s sleep.

“You don’t think there’s anything actually going on, do you?” Hoseok asked, bringing the older man out of his thoughts once again. “With this whole “seven” thing, I mean.”

Yoongi waved off the other’s worries, “I’m sure it’s just another coincidence.”

Hoseok nodded in response before tugging Yoongi closer into him. “Come here, then. I’ve been craving cuddles all night but you were too busy staring at me to notice.”

Yoongi huffed out a laugh, “Cuddles coming right up.”

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A/N: So, another chapter done. I really hope that you guys enjoyed it! Comments and likes keep me going <3

[iffeelscouldkill]

Adjusting [Part 3: Campbell]

A/N: It liiiives! Here is a long overdue Chapter 3. As compensation for the wait, this chapter is longer than the other two chapters put together :D

I originally drafted this chapter some time ago, but then once I started serialising the fic on AO3, decided that I wanted to rework the middle part. I wound up redrafting most of it over the past few months, and it was a bit of a slog at times, but I'm much, much happier with the final result. A big big thank you once again goes to my wonderfully encouraging beta @dragonsthough101, and to @whelvenwings for writing with me and listening to my Fic Woe and helping me fix That One Section that I was struggling with!

A heads up that this chapter contains some quite heavy conversations about wartime under an oppressive regime, loss and regret. There are no graphic descriptions of violence, just a lot of fairly grim introspection. It probably goes without saying, but I'm not a military veteran myself, so I based all of this on the podcast canon and my own imagination.

Please take care of yourselves, and I hope you all enjoy 💜

---

Summary: It turns out that there isn’t a blueprint for quitting your job, turning your back on the organisation that you’d built your life around, committing treason and abandoning your friends and family to go travel across the galaxy with a band of wanted criminals. Fortunately, RJ now knows some people who have been there.

Or: Five times that RJ McCabe shares a late-night drink with someone on the Iris 2.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Read on AO3

---

About three weeks on from the Iris’ flight from New Jupiter, Sana calls a crew meeting. It isn’t their first by any means, but until now, crew meetings have either been about the division of chores or about pooling information to convey to the resistance movement. This one is different.

“We’re making another stop-off,” she tells the crew once they’re all assembled, Arkady looking half-asleep and disgruntled at the earliness of the hour. “I’ve arranged to meet a… long-time contact of ours. I know that we need to be careful about who we trust outside of the crew on this ship and confirmed members of the anti-IGR resistance, but… he’s a friend. An old friend.”

RJ raises their hand. “Is it Ignatius Campbell?” they ask, feeling like they’re on a quiz show.

Arkady revives slightly and snorts. “Got it in one, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” RJ shoots back automatically. This is old, well-worn banter between them at this point.

Sana blushes slightly. “Right. I forgot that of course… you and Park know exactly who Campbell is.” She gives them a sidelong look, and RJ suspects that she’s remembering her fractious exchange with Campbell after Elion, and thinking about exactly what they would have heard.

“If it’s any consolation, we’ve been trying to forget about the recordings, too,” Park offers, slightly abashed, as he always is when this subject comes up.

RJ finds it awkward, too, but doesn’t see any point in pretending that they weren’t at one point on very different sides. Or that listening to the recordings from the Rumor wasn’t literally their job. But Park is right – they have been doing their best to forget about those long days and nights spent cooped up in their tiny office, replaying audio over and over. Know thy enemy had practically been RJ’s motto back in those days, but the Rumor crew aren’t their enemies any more. And RJ wants to move on from the person they were back then.

“I’ve spoken to Campbell a couple of times since… Well, since Elion,” Sana continues. “Trying to smooth things over since we-”

“Accused him of backstabbing us?” Arkady volunteers drily.

“To be fair, we really didn’t have any other good theories about what was going on,” Brian puts in. “None of us would have ever jumped to ‘an invisible robot nanoswarm’ as the source of our leak.”

Sana nods. “I know, and Campbell understands that, too. That’s why he’s willing to meet with us, and help us out – with supplies, and with information about the situation on Telemachus as well as some of the other Regime planets.”

“What about payment?” Violet asks. “We’re pretty light on funds at the moment, and we don’t have any cargo to trade either.”

“Campbell has agreed to effectively give us the goods on credit, with the understanding that we’ll pay at a later date,” Sana replies. “We’re also trading a little information in exchange for what he knows. Nothing top-secret, just a bit about the Regime’s movements, to help him keep two steps ahead.”

“And did you ‘barter’ with him to get him to agree to that deal?” Arkady asks, raising her eyebrows in a significant way.

Sana reddens a little, but says with dignity, “I don’t know what you’re implying. But yes, we did haggle for a bit.”

“Nice to hear that you two are back on ‘bartering’ terms,” says Arkady with a smirk.

Krejjh, looking between Arkady and Sana, grins as if Ferin has come early.

Ignoring this, Sana continues, “It’s obviously too dangerous for us to land on any of the IGR planets, so I’ve arranged to meet Campbell on Halton Station, in the Neutral Zone.”

Brian instantly perks up. “Dude! We’re going to Neuzo? Wait, isn’t Halton Station-”

“Where Thasia and Emily Craddock grew up,” Krejjh finishes eagerly.

“Yeah. To be honest, I picked it half because I knew the name, but it happens to be in a particularly convenient location for us, too,” says Sana. “It’s also not that populated, so there’s less chance of us attracting unwanted attention.”

“Does this mean I’ll be able to go outside?” Krejjh asks, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, for the gentle caress of the wind! The touch of the ground beneath my feet!”

“I don’t see why not,” Sana says with a smile. “Just try to keep things, uh… low-key?”

Arkady snorts eloquently.

Later on, RJ is on joint kitchen cleaning duty with Violet, who is chatting aimlessly about the rendezvous with Campbell.

“…it’s just going to be Sana, Krejjh and Arkady going out to meet Campbell on Halton Station,” she says. “It’s still not safe for Brian to set foot on Neuzo, and having a huge group would definitely attract unwanted attention. So, I guess we won’t get a chance to meet Campbell this time, unless he comes back to the ship.”

“Is that likely?” asks RJ.

“If things go well between Sana and Campbell, I guess,” Violet says with a small smile. “At least, that’s what Arkady thinks.”

“So, are Sana and Campbell… a couple?” RJ clarifies. Violet laughs a little, moving a dishrag in slow circles over the countertop.

“Not that I know of? My impression from Arkady is that they’ve always been close, but never actually, uh… been romantically involved,” says Violet. “Then, after Elion… well. We didn’t really know who we could trust, and… Campbell was one of the only people who knew about our destination and had our new IDs. Or at least, so we thought.”

“Mmm,” RJ responds, which seems safer than ‘Sorry for being part of the evil government eavesdropping operation that made you paranoid and destroyed your friendships’.

“But now it seems they’re patching things up, so maybe…” Violet smiles brightly. “It would be great if they could make it work.”

“That’s true,” says RJ with as much enthusiasm as they can muster. Romance has never held much of an appeal for RJ – it’s nice for other people, but RJ realised some years ago that they just don’t feel the thing that people have devoted endless poems and novels and movies to, and trying to get invested in other people’s romances feels similarly awkward. But RJ likes Sana, and she deserves to be happy.

Violet, who is sensitive to that sort of thing, seems to pick up on RJ’s train of thought. “Sorry, I realise we might seem a bit… romance-obsessed on this ship sometimes,” she says with an embarrassed smile. “If it gets to be too much… feel free to tell us to knock it off any time, really.”

RJ thinks about working under the IGR, and the way that no-one ever felt safe being themselves. They’ve already started to take this new freedom for granted – but that doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten the way things used to be.

“It’s fine,” they say.

 ---

This time, it’s not unsettling dreams or racing thoughts that are keeping RJ awake. It’s just energy. It’s midnight, but they feel as tense and jittery as though they’ve just downed four mugs of that overbrewed sludge the IGR used to serve employees in the breakroom.

A lot happened during the day. A huge amount of planning went into the rendezvous with Campbell on Halton Station, and even though RJ wasn’t part of the group who went out to meet him, they were involved in every other part of the endeavour.

Halton Station might be in the Neutral Zone, but they’d already established that the IGR was willing to cross huge lines and even violate the Treaty in order to get what it wanted, and the crew of the Iris is wanted on every IGR planet. It’s impossible to be too careful. Park and RJ had advised Sana to the best of their knowledge on steps that the IGR might take to try and survey the area, on the resources that they might try to use.

Meanwhile, Brian and Krejjh – both over the moon at being back on Neuzo, where they first met – had taken it in turns to tell stories about Ryedell Station, where Brian once worked as a bartender alongside his friend Alvy Connors.

Inside the Republic, the Neutral Zone was referenced only sparingly, and always characterised as a den of vice and iniquity. RJ had hardly ever thought about it except to be glad that they’ve never had the misfortune to set foot on any of its stations. But hearing stories about a place where humans and Dwarnians co-existed alongside each other, talking, trading, bartering… It’s made RJ realise just how narrow their world was until recently. And it’s sobering.

Sure, they’ve been watching Dwarnian soap operas, which deal with a completely alien (literally) species and set of cultures – but those are overblown and feel removed from RJ’s day-to-day reality. This doesn't.

So, RJ processes by pottering around the kitchen, making a late-night cup of tea. The light in the kitchen is kind of busted and it only emits a very dim glow – Sana has been swearing that she’ll tackle it once they’ve got the supplies from Campbell, but RJ finds it soothing, particularly at this hour.

It does make them jump, however, when the door suddenly slides open to admit a tall, dark shape.

“Apologies,” says the man, in a rough voice accented with a slight drawl. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Ignatius Campbell,” says RJ in realisation. His voice, though RJ has only ever heard it over comms (and recorded comms at that), is pretty distinctive. Also, process of elimination dictates that there’s only one person this could be.

“The very same,” says Campbell, inclining his head forward. The door slides shut behind him. “And you must be RJ McCabe? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

RJ would like to say something witty like ‘The one and only’, but doesn’t really think they could pull it off. Instead, after a few dumb moments of deliberation, they manage, “You can call me RJ.”

Okay, so maybe they’re more tired than they realised.

Campbell raises his eyebrows a little. “Well, then, you can call me Ignatius.”

RJ doesn’t think so. Even Sana still calls him ‘Campbell’ – well, at least as far as RJ knows. Does his presence on the ship mean that the rendezvous has “gone well” like Violet and Arkady hoped?

The water comes to a boil, and RJ busies themself with pouring it out. “Would you, uh, like some tea?” they ask, mostly out of politeness – Campbell doesn’t really look like the tea type.

“Actually, I was planning on drinking something a bit stronger, if you don’t mind of course,” Campbell says, pulling out a battered metal flask from the pocket of his heavy brown coat. “It’s not moonshine,” he adds, at RJ’s slightly sceptical expression. “Just whiskey. You’re welcome to some, if you want.”

The opening notes of ‘Whiskey in the Jar’ immediately start up in RJ’s head, and they inwardly curse Violet, who has a habit of humming it when she’s nervous. And when she’s happy. And when she’s been spending time with Arkady.

“I’ll pass, but thanks,” says RJ, taking their tea and sitting down with it at the table. Campbell manages to locate a mug and pours his whiskey into it, but stays standing, drinking it slowly and staring into the middle distance. It puts RJ a little on edge, but they force themself to relax and remember that Campbell isn’t a threat.

It’s harder to resist the impulse to run through the collective intelligence that the Intergalactic Republic had on the man known as Ignatius Campbell. Known contact and long-time associate of the crew of the Rumor; expert forger; suspected aliases include Alexander Cole and Jonathan Johnson. Based in Telemachus, but with an extensive network of affiliates and possible connections across multiple galaxies.

As if picking up on their thoughts, Campbell suddenly asks, “You used to work for the IGR, right?”

RJ tenses. “Emphasis on ‘used to’,” they reply.

Campbell waves a hand. “Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to accuse you of anything. God knows everyone on this ship has stuff in their past they’d rather not go back to – me included,” he says, a little darkly. “No, I was just wondering what kind of intel they might have on me up there. Any good rumours?”

“Most of it was inconclusive,” RJ tells him, but thinks back anyway. It already feels unnatural trying to access the headspace and knowledge that they had while working for the IGR, after going to such pains to put it behind them. “W- They suspected you might have links to the notorious pirate Kim Hoff and her Bald-Cat gang, potentially as a supplier of intel or documentation, but nothing was proven.”

Campbell gives a low chuckle of amusement. “Believe it or not, I’m not the one on this ship with links to Hoff,” he says. “Though I can’t say we’ve never crossed paths.”

In response to RJ’s look of confusion, he elaborates: “She was Brian Jeeter’s thesis advisor.”

“You’re kidding,” says RJ in disbelief.

Campbell lays a hand on his heart. “I swear – you can ask him about it. For all that he might seem mild-mannered and harmless, Brian Jeeter has some interesting connections.”

“I’ve heard about his run-ins with the Dwarnian mafia,” says RJ, partly to show that they aren’t completely uninformed.

“Yeah, that’s another good example,” says Campbell. “There’s a reason why I’ve kept doing business with the Rumor crew all these years: they have some damn good stories to tell.”

RJ snorts in acknowledgement. If it weren’t for the fact that they’ve listened to some of the Rumor crew’s insane exploits (and been present for one or two of them) they wouldn’t have believed half of the stories that they’ve heard since they came aboard the Iris.

Neither of them says anything for a while, and RJ contemplates taking their tea back to their room so that they can carry on thinking. But the prospect is dull and a little claustrophobic, and part of them wants to take this opportunity to find out more about this person who is obviously so important to their crewmates.

“So…” says RJ, and Campbell’s gaze flicks over to them from where he’d been contemplating the cupboards. “What’s got you up so late, drinking whiskey in the kitchen with a total stranger?”

One corner of Campbell’s mouth quirks up. “You’re not a total stranger,” he points out. RJ just raises an eyebrow, and Campbell relents.

“Not sure, really – Sana and I were talking, but then she wanted to crash, and I wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet. Got a bit too much going round in my head.”

RJ nods; in other words, a very similar reason to their own. “So I take it you’re staying the night?”

This immediately makes Campbell flustered, and RJ can’t make out his face very well but they imagine that he’s probably gone red. “I – I mean I am, but I promise that there’s nothing improper- It’s just for the one night. And we’re bunking in separate rooms,” he says in a rush.

RJ snorts and manages to keep from rolling their eyes – just about. “Calm down. I wasn’t trying to imply anything,” they tell Campbell. “I only asked because I’m on breakfast duty tomorrow morning, so I wanted to know how many people I’d be cooking for.”

“Oh.”

“Also, ‘improper’? What millennium is this, again?”

Campbell coughs, and says with the air of someone trying to pull the conversation back on track, “So – what about you? What has you up in the kitchen past midnight?”

RJ sips their tea, stalling for time as they try to decide how much to say about what has been keeping them awake. They settle on,

“I guess I’m… learning a lot about the universe that I never had the chance to before. Working for the… for the IGR, you’re told that only you have access to the real facts about everything – Dwarnians, the war, the upper limits of science and space exploration – and that anyone who tells you differently is lying or trying to confuse you. I prided myself,” they stress, bitterly, “on the thoroughness of my research. On having all the information. Now I realise just how little I really knew.”

Campbell nods, slowly. “All repressive governments control their people’s access to information,” he says. “The better to make sure that no-one gets any ideas of their own.”

“Yeah, I know,” says RJ, a little wearily. “I’m not under any illusions about what the IGR really is. Not anymore.”

“But you were,” Campbell points out. “Sure, maybe there were things you could’ve questioned and didn’t. There are also folks up at the top of the whole operation who have access to all the information and make a very different choice with it. At the end of the day, you still thought for yourself when it counted. You got out.”

RJ eyes Campbell warily. “I’m not fishing for reassurance here,” they tell him. “You don’t have to make me feel better.”

Campbell holds up his hands in apology. “I know,” he says. “It just sounded to me like maybe you were being a little harsh on yourself.”

RJ shakes their head and searches for the right words. “When I joined up with the Rumor crew on New Jupiter, it wasn’t some heroic stand,” they say eventually, quietly. “It was a strategic decision I made to survive. If I’d stayed where I was, I would have been killed on sight.”

“The crew of this ship knows a thing or two about survival,” Campbell tells them. “They’re not all on some grand moral crusade.”

RJ knows that Arkady worked as a guard for the IGR, that Violet used to be a government scientist, that Krejjh fought in the war on the Dwarnian side. But on nights like these, the gap between their experiences still feels vast.

The others, they all have this bond, a camaraderie forged from venturing out into the deepest parts of space, from facing near-death experiences and defying the Regime side by side. RJ might have tagged along at the end, but they don’t have that history. They haven’t earned that bond, yet.

RJ realises that Campbell is still watching them – considering, almost. Their first instinct is to break eye contact and look away, but instead they meet his gaze, raising their chin slightly. RJ thinks they see Campbell’s mouth twitch into a small smile.

“You know that I served in the military,” he says suddenly. It isn’t a question.

“Yes,” RJ replies cautiously.

“Do you want to know why I left?”

“Uh…”

RJ is well aware that Campbell fought in the war. They vividly recall the argument with Sana where Campbell angrily spoke about losing ninety percent of his first unit. RJ remembers listening to that exchange in their cramped office with Park, and looking over at him, wanting to ask for more information. But Park’s brow had been furrowed, his expression dark as he stared down at the wood of the desk, and the question died on RJ’s lips.

Park had fought in the war, too.

RJ doesn’t feel like they have a right to Campbell’s story any more than Park’s, but apparently, he's offering. “If you’re… okay with telling me,” they say uncertainly, pressing their mug between their palms until it’s a little painful. “I’m… sure it was nothing good.”

Campbell gives a short nod, his expression grim.

“I enlisted in the military in 2178, two years before the coup,” he says. “My first unit, they were… a really good group of people. Some of the best I’ve known. When the coup took place in 2180, we were excited. The old government had left the military drastically under-funded and over-stretched. The Regime promised better funding, better resources, more troops – of course, they accomplished that via the Mandate, but they made that seem like a great thing. A stable career path; an opportunity for everyone who was able to “serve the human race”. As they put it.”

RJ nods slowly. “I know. They’re pretty big on teaching that as part of the history of the Republic,” they say. “‘How the Intergalactic Republic transformed our military’.”

“Yeah, well, I experienced it first-hand. And for about a year, everything was as promised. But then my unit got word that we were being redeployed to the Dwarnian stronghold of Nreech-shlegga.”

RJ frowns. “As in… the Battle of Nreech-shlegga?”

“The very same,” Campbell confirmed. “But this was years before that battle. We were told that it was a small outpost, largely unmanned – an opportunity to score an early victory over the Dwarnians and make an incursion into their territory.”

RJ feels a sick sinking feeling, and unconsciously grips the edge of the table with one hand. “What happened?” they almost whisper, although they know the answer.

“On the basis of the briefing we were given, we stormed the stronghold,��� Campbell says, and RJ suspects that he might not really have heard their question, lost in the memory. He’s not looking at them anymore, staring down at his mug, but he doesn’t drink from it. “Of course, Nreech-slegga was the exact opposite of what we'd been led to believe – it was an extremely well-defended military stronghold. My entire unit, barring myself and six others, was wiped out in less than an hour.”

Campbell is silent. RJ breathes out quietly, trying not to interrupt his thoughts by drawing attention to themself. Their throat is dry, but they’ve drunk all of their tea and daren’t move to make some more.

Several long minutes later, Campbell shakes himself a little, seeming to come back into the present. “Sorry,” he apologises gruffly, taking a swig of whiskey.

“Don’t apologise,” RJ says quickly, and then clamps their mouth shut, in case they sounded overly familiar. But Campbell nods, and they think they see his lips quirk upward slightly.

“What did you do… after?” RJ ventures, after another long moment of silence. They hate to pry, but they’re still not clear on why Campbell decided to tell them this in the first place. Maybe he’s not sure anymore either.

Campbell nods again, once, as if agreeing to something inside his head. He meets RJ’s eyes again. “Would you believe me if I told you that I defected from the military?”

“Of course,” RJ says immediately. “After what they did to your unit? Your superiors must have known the reality of the situation, but they withheld crucial intel. It cost the lives of dozens of good soldiers.”

“I notice you haven’t considered for a moment that the IGR might have had a good reason for giving those orders,” Campbell points out. He sounds amused.

“I—” RJ falters. “I mean. How could they have?”

People died needlessly, they want to say. But they know that while they were on the IGR’s payroll, they came across all kinds of evidence of similar incidents and found ways to rationalise them, to explain away the devastating loss of human life. Like the planet where the inhabitants were left to starve without aid after their food supply was consumed by ants – because of “improper paperwork” and “budgetary concerns”. Or the fate of the original Iris, in which an entire crew had been murdered in order to silence one man.

Why had it taken RJ so long to see the Regime for what it really was?

Because it’s easy to make excuses, to explain things away, when it’s not your life on the line, RJ’s brain supplies. When you’re not the one they’re coming for.

“If you see any of the Rumor crew, or Agents McCabe or Park, shoot to kill.”

Until you are.

“You’re right,” Campbell says, and RJ stares at him for a few seconds, having lost the thread of their conversation. Their head feels heavy and over-full, their mind whirling. “My superiors had perfect intel on the situation in Nreech-slegga and knew the full extent of its defences, but they lied to us because they wanted to test the Dwarnians’ response times on their own territory. We were just cannon fodder to them.”

The phrase rings a bell in RJ’s mind – they remember him using the same words to Sana in ‘Report 6: Parallel’. They nod mutely.

“But in the wake of The Nreech-Slegga Disaster, as it became known – though only among the troops, as official reports of the incident were largely suppressed – they told us that they’d been fed false intel by double agents working for the Dwarnian Federation. They even used it as an excuse to purge a few members of the rank and file who’d fallen out of favour.

“I could tell something was off about it all – if the Dwarnian counter-intelligence efforts were so effective, why tip their hand so obviously? Why waste them on eliminating a single ground unit? But at the time, I couldn’t envision a life for myself outside of the military. And I was afraid to follow that train of logic any further, for fear of where it might lead me. So I stayed enlisted – for three more years.”

“Three… years?” RJ echoes in shock. “But…”

“Why would I stay?” Campbell finishes for them. “It takes a lot of guts to choose a different path to the one you’re on, to leave behind everything you know. I didn’t have them, then.” He stares off into the middle distance, mug held loosely in one hand. “A lot of people who fought in the war didn’t really believe in the Regime’s cause. They had their own reasons, and I told myself I had mine.”

Campbell raises his mug to drink from it again, and then – evidently finding it empty – picks up his flask and drinks directly from there instead. “But I spent a hell of a lot of time regretting those three years.” His voice is a low, bitter growl, almost too low to hear.

A more profound silence descends this time, and RJ isn’t sure how to break it. Their instinctive response to hearing how Campbell lost his first unit had been to assume that he would have left the military and refused to serve under the regime that caused the deaths of his comrades – just as many people would question why RJ had stayed and continued to work for the IGR after Park was taken away. 

Like Campbell said, at the time, they thought they had their reasons. It's only in hindsight that those reasons become a lot harder to justify.

It takes a lot of guts to choose a different path to the one you're on, Campbell had said. RJ can't find it in them yet to think of their decision to turn against the IGR as something that took "guts". 

But no matter how adrift they've been feeling since then, they also haven't regretted it for a moment.

“Apologies,” says Campbell abruptly, and RJ looks up from toying with their mug, surprised. “I probably shouldn’t have dropped all of this on you at once. It’s just been… on my mind, what with the renewed crackdowns from the Regime, and skirmishes breaking out everywhere…”

RJ’s stomach turns over. They knew that there were protests on Telemachus, and a couple of the other large planets as well, the ones that were harder to control. But they hadn’t realised it had broken out into all-out fighting.

They realise that Campbell is still looking at them, and try to force their mind back to the subject at hand. “No, it’s fine – it actually helped. Uh, it’s nice to hear…” They trail off, not sure if it would be presumptuous to say, ‘a story similar to mine’. RJ isn’t a war veteran. It’s not the same thing at all. “That is, I uh, really appreciate you… trusting me with this.” There.

Campbell gives them a slight smile, and then ventures, “I’m not sure how well it’ll go with the aftertaste of whiskey, but… can I take you up on that tea?”

“Oh! Sure!” RJ jumps to their feet so quickly they almost upset their chair. They do their best to cover it up by holding the box of tea out to Campbell, who raises his eyebrows. “What kind would you like?”

“Uh… Why don’t you choose,” Campbell suggests.

“Oh, if you’re sure…” RJ looks down at the tea, wondering what kind would be appropriate to give a former-soldier-turned-forger after a heavy conversation about serving under an oppressive regime. They decide to go for vanilla and honey.

As RJ is busy boiling the water again, making another cup for themself at the same time, they realise that Campbell never actually told them how he came to leave the military. They wonder if it would be pushing it to ask him, or whether it would be best to leave the topic alone.

They procrastinate by pouring out the water, then finding a spoon to stir the tea with. “You can leave it in for as long as you want to – three minutes is usually a good amount of time,” they tell him, handing over the mug and the spoon.

“Thanks,” says Campbell appreciatively. “It smells good.”

“You’re welcome.” RJ goes back to pour out their second cup of jasmine green tea. Campbell gives a little chuckle to himself, and RJ looks over, curious.

“Oh, it’s just – I realised that after all that, I never finished my story,” Campbell explains. “But uh, I’m sure you’re sick of hearing-”

“Actually, I was wondering-” RJ begins, and then stops awkwardly. “Uh. That is. I’d like to hear the last part?”

“All right then,” says Campbell. His manner is a little more relaxed than before, and RJ senses that this part of the story is easier for Campbell to tell. 

“I served in the military for three more years,” he says, “after the Nreech-Slegga Disaster. I rose up the ranks a little bit – but not that much. I wasn’t great at taking my superiors’ orders without question, especially when they were irrational, stupid orders. A lot of soldiers who started out below me on the pecking order quickly got promoted ahead. But that was fine – I never wanted to be in command. I knew there was all sorts of corruption in the upper ranks of the force – bribery, dirty deals, a comfortable life lived on military funds.

“But the breaking point really came when I was put into a situation that reminded me vividly of the Nreech-Slegga Disaster – a campaign where we were given almost no information about the situation on the ground, and were ordered to go in, guns blazing, and mount an attack. I refused to lead my men in blind – I demanded more information from the officers in command. And when they ordered me to go ahead with the offensive regardless… I left. I couldn’t watch it happen again.”

“Where did you go?” RJ asks.

“I disappeared,” Campbell says simply. “I had an old friend I’d never completely severed ties with who had links to the criminal underworld. Not, uh, Sana,” he adds quickly. “We met later. I went underground with a new identity, and set about methodically erasing every trace of my former life. Officially, I’m listed as Killed in Action during the offensive that I refused to participate in. I honed my skills as a forger at the same time.”

“Did you have, uh…” RJ realises partway through asking the question that it might be an uncomfortable subject – well, another uncomfortable subject. “…family? You don’t have to answer that,” they add awkwardly, but Campbell is nodding.

“My parents had passed away, but I had a brother I’m close to. I wasn’t able to make contact for several years. But now I… see him, occasionally. And his kids, my nephews.” He says the last part softly.

“That must be nice,” RJ says without thinking, and then flushes when Campbell looks at them quizzically. “Um, that is…”

At that moment, the door slides open and a voice says, “Hey, I woke up and I wasn’t sure where you’d – oh! RJ, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

Sana stands framed in the doorway, wearing loose sleeping clothes, her hair twisted into a side braid. Because she’s Sana, rather than being embarrassed or discomfited, she immediately shifts into Concern Mode. “Is everything all right?” She looks between the two of them, obviously curious as to how they came to be talking in the kitchen.

“Hey, Sana. Everything’s fine, we were… just having tea,” RJ says.

“I think mine’s vanilla and honey,” Campbell adds, lifting his mug. Sana seems tickled by this, grinning broadly.

“All right, well I’ll leave you both to it, if you’d prefer – I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, it’s okay–” RJ says, at the same time as Campbell begins, “Actually, I’d be happy to come back to–”

They both stop, and RJ presses their lips together in amusement and then stands. “I’m gonna head back to my room. It was… really nice talking to you, Mr. Campbell.”

Campbell gives an exasperated huff at being called ‘Mister’, which makes RJ smile. “Likewise,” he says.

“Goodnight, then, RJ,” says Sana, standing to one side so that RJ can get past her. “Don’t be afraid to come and knock if you still can’t sleep.”

RJ nods, though they have no intention of doing anything of the sort. “I will. Oh, and Campbell?”

“Yes?”

“Do you like eggs?”

This throws Campbell for a loop. “Do I… like eggs?”

“For breakfast tomorrow. Sana said there would be some eggs in the supplies we were getting, so I figured I’d make eggs.”

Campbell laughs a little with surprise. “Sure. I’ll eat pretty much anything.”

“Great.” RJ looks back at Campbell. “See you at breakfast.”

What they really mean is:

Thank you.

[mobi-on-a-mission]

10 Fanfic Questions Ask Game!

Thank you to @sassmasterblake for tagging me! A fantastic fanfic writer and a fantastic person all around. I definitely have other tags sitting around waiting for me to do them but whatever this one is happening now

1. What’s your favorite genre to write?

So far I’ve only done canonverse (at least that have made it to posting). I have some au stuff in the works but who knows how long that’ll take me! I like canonverse because it allows me to explore headcanons and ‘what ifs’ in that ‘verse, plus I find it easier to stay in character that way. But aus can be a lot of fun.

2. Do you pull inspiration from real life? Or do you pull things from other books/fanfic?

Where don’t I pull inspiration from? haha It’s a little bit of everything. I’d I get a lot of my big ideas from fiction and the details from my own experiences.

3. Do you tend to write one-shots, short stories or longer things?

So far I’ve only done one multi-chap, so I’m mostly one-shots. But I’m working on something a little longer (again, we’ll see how long that takes). There’s definitely a benefit to any length, and I love all of them!

4. Do you prefer description or dialogue?

I love description, but I know that can get boring so I incorporate a lot of dialogue into my stories. I really like dialogue and description to play together, so I tend to not have very long sections which are just one or the other.

5. Favorite fic/book of all time?

I am one of those trash people who has a hard time with favorites. Umm...

6. Favorite Tropes?

I actually really like kidfic and pregnancy fic (is there a term for that? I don’t know). It seems that a lot of people aren’t into those tropes but I definitely am. They’re just so cute and emotional and I love all of them.

Aside from that I like a lot of the super popular ones like friends to lovers and fake dating. Sometimes soulmates, but I tend to be a little pickier with that. And I absolutely LOVE when there’s a reason why the characters shouldn’t be together but they just can’t resist it. Which is a lot of tropes so I’m easy to please :) Oh yeah and did I mention MUTUAL PINING? I’m trash for that.

7. Are you the kind of person to work on more than one WIP?

For the most part, I stick to one WIP, although I have semi-abandoned drafts that I might pick up again later.

8. How long have you been writing for?

I’ve been conscious of my love for writing for about 9-10 years. That’s when I was coming into adolescence and starting to figure out who I am as a person. I wrote stories with ocs and posted them on this website called Pets Next Door. It’s a website for pets but there was some sort of writing community on there that I got involved in. It’s weird thinking about it now but that was definitely a thing haha. Around that same time I started writing a lot of melodramatic/emo poetry that is pretty much too cringey to look at but it helped me work through my hormones and mental health problems.

Then about 6 years ago or so, I found fanfic. I was really in for it then. I mostly read for a while, but I posted my first fic (a very short piece for Supernatural) in March 2014. I was fourteen years old at that point. I posted one more in 2015, then went dormant although I was still reading.

For years and years, I dreamed writing fanfic. But something was holding me back. Perfectionism, anxiety... I couldn’t bring myself to even type out a character’s name so how could I even begin to write a whole fanfic? I came up with lots of ideas, but never wrote a word.

In July of 2019, I finally did it again. I fought tooth and nail to write, but I did it. I’m so proud of that fic (this was my first fic for The 100). It took months to work myself up to doing it again, but one evening I came home from the bar and just started. In the middle of a smut scene (the hardest kind of scene to write, in my limited experience). I swear half the time I spent writing Revive I had my eyes closed from freaking out over what I was writing, but I wrote it. All 42,800 words of it.

Since then, I haven’t had too much embarrassment about writing fic. Although no one outside the internet knows I do it.

9. Do you tend to write more in the afternoon or evening?

When I write depends a lot on my schedule, but mostly I write in the evenings or late when I should be asleep. With my multichap I posted daily (I pre-wrote everything and just did last-minute edits on the day of), every time in the middle of the night. Along with being a university student I’m also a part time bar manager, so what could you expect?

10. Do you prefer to post your WIP chapter by chapter, or do you prefer to wait until it’s 100% done before posting?

I think I’d be too terrified to post something that isn’t at least drafted all the way through. Maybe someday, but the thought of it really freaks me out. I like to finish what I start, and lackluster responses to posted chapters have way too much pull on my self confidence to push through writing a new chapter.

Tagging some fantastic writers I’d love to learn more about: @eyessharpweaponshot @justwalkedaway As always sorry if you’ve already done it I don’t think I’ve seen that on my dash but who knows

[uas-fics]

Chapter 2 Of ‘The Pandering Country Western Star’

Chapter 1 - Epilogue 

---

Kiwi snuggled down in Tweek's hair as Tweek tapped his finger on the table top. Craig's livestream would start any minute. Would Craig use the script Tweek edited for him? No, he probably scrapped it. It was too much. It didn't make his fans feel good about Craig keeping his personal life a secret from them.

The more Tweek thought about the whole situation, the angrier he got about it. Coming out is hard and terrifying. No one should be pushed to come out to the world like this — especially not at the hands of a bitter ex. Craig was right to break up with him! He dodged a bullet, as far as Tweek could tell.

Tweek's phone dinged and he picked it up, keeping one eye on the laptop in front of him. 

The text message was from Craig. 

"I'm going to start my livestream soon. Wish me luck? :)“

"Luck ;)" Tweek typed and chewed his lip. 

This was too risky to send. He didn't even know how long ago Craig broke up with his ex. Was it a month? A year? Two weeks? Was he pushing too fast? 

Besides, Craig probably didn't even see Tweek like that. He was a famous country star after all. There were men much more like him out there he could pursue. Men who were famous and used to Craig’s lifestyle.

With a sigh, Tweek went to delete the wink and replace it with a star or a smile, (he hadn't decided which one) when Kiwi took hold of a lock of Tweek's hair and pulled. Tweek yelped, his thumb going right down on the send button.

His heart froze in his chest as he stared down at his mistake. A scream rose up from his throat but died down the moment the livestream started a few seconds later.

Craig smiled at the camera, waving. He held up the black and white guinea pig from his wallet photo and moved his paw to wave as well.

"Howdy," He greeted, and Tweek realized just how much of an accent Craig put on for his fans. "There's quite a crowd here, huh, Astro? I think this is my biggest livestream yet."

Astro didn't look all that impressed. Craig set him down in his lap.

"I'm guessin' you're all here because I said I've got some really big news. I can tell from the chat, you all seem to think it's music related." Craig's smile strained. "It ain't."

Craig took a deep breath, scooting a little farther back. Best Tweek could tell the livestream took place in Craig's living room, which was nothing but Western aesthetic: decorations made with wood, barbwire, and rope covered the wall behind him along with a rustic painting of a pasture with some tiny black, white, and red dots (probably cows or horses, Tweek realized) on it.

"This isn't how I wanted to do this." Craig sighed. "I had other ideas. Plans much classier than this, when I was in a much happier place in my life, but circumstances changed. I want y'all to hear this from my mouth and not the front page of a magazine."

Craig shook once. His face twisted like he was going to vomit, but he swallowed any bile back down.

"I am gay," Craig stated simply, pulling Astro so he pressed against his stomach. "I have always been gay. Since I was still in my mama. That's just how it works. That's how God made it work."

Tweek tensed. Around this part was when he started to edit out the pandering. If Craig went on about God and how He has a purpose for him, then he threw out all Tweek did and went back to the first draft.

Craig's eyes flicked up, looking beyond the camera, then back. "This has been a hard decision for me and a shock for many of you, I'm sure. Or maybe it’s not. Maybe you could all tell and never bothered to let me in on the secret."

Tweek let out a breath he did not remember taking. He slumped forward so abruptly that Kiwi fell from his hair. Kiwi landed, somewhat gracefully, if a little wobbly, on the table.

"Sorry!" Tweek reached out to comfort Kiwi, but he turned and flew up to his perch in his cage.

Craig continued, "Like I said, this isn't how I wanted this to happen. I’d rather had y'all meet my husband after we got engaged or married, but that ain't gonna happen now, I guess."

Pain flashed across his face for a fraction of a second. "I'm sure y'all find out why when Country Western Living comes out since that's where my ex outs me. I think publishing it is downright dirty and shows a lack of journalistic integrity, but I'm not a rich ol' magazine editor." He shrugged. "What do I know — besides you don’t tell other folks secrets for money?"

Tweek couldn't help but smile. Craig was going to throw that magazine right under the bus for this, wasn't he?

"I can say, I spent years hiding myself from people, both family and friends, and from the world itself. It was hard, and I felt like a liar. I heard conversations about folks like me that made my stomach churn. Conversations that I'm sure wouldn't happen if the people in the room knew I was like the people they were talking about."

He cleared his throat. "Even if it's not a perfect coming out story, I think I'll be much happier now, and I know I can make music truer to my life and with more passion than ever before. I want this to be a good thing for all of us."

Astro pipped and began to roll out of Craig's lap. Craig smiled down at him then set him on the floor.

"Don't worry about Astro. I'm still keeping an eye on him. He's safe," Craig reassured. He settled himself back in his seat before continuing, "Now, I know some of you don't ‘agree' with people being gay, and, well, I can't change your mind, but if you don't, it isn't my problem."

Craig fixed the camera with a hard look, his accent falling for the last sentence.

That wasn't part of the first draft or the edited one. Craig was supposed to offer to answer questions from the livestream after he mentioned how coming out would make his life better.

Tweek leaned so close his nose nearly touched the laptop screen. 

He was proud for Craig. 

Even as he answered, somewhat invasive, questions about his sexuality, he seemed relaxed, as if a heavy weight hanging over him just dropped to the ground and missed him.

Well that's what it was, wasn't it? No more hiding. No more lies and fake girlfriend stories. No more feeling like a gay fly on the wall when people bash the community.

"Ok, um, Little.Shop.Of.Yaoi280, I don't know what a ‘uke' or a sea...seem...see-mee? Whatever are and I don't think I want to," Craig was saying as he read through the comments. "Yes, KittyKatLover, I have read the Old Testament. I also read all the verses that say God loves me and made me how I am. That's all I want to say about that."

Tweek finally fell back in his chair, running his hands through his hair, with a goofy smile on his face. Craig handled those kinds of questions a little better than Tweek did the first few times he got then online. Nowadays he deleted invasive or backhanded comments on sight. He used to argue, sometimes with sources, sometimes without, and it would keep him up at night with worry.

He'd have to advise Craig to copy his current method and not his old one.

"Ok, I think Astro wants to go nap with his brother and sister, so one more question," Craig muttered, more to himself than the stream. "Let's see...I like this one. PikachuKetchumAll151 asks me if I could have come out like I wanted with a husband at my side, what would I have said."

He hummed a moment. "I would have announced the man with me is the love of my life and I am blessed to introduce you all to him, but that isn't going to happen any time soon, unless," Craig smirked, "I get very lucky with dates in the near future." He winked.

Tweek fell out of his chair and to the floor, eyes wide. No. Craig didn't. He didn't just ask him on a date on a livestream like that, did he?

"Oh, jeez!" Tweek's mouth gaping open like a freshly caught trout as Craig finished up.

The screen was dark for only a few seconds before Tweek's phone began to ring. Shaking, Tweek answered it without looking at the number.

"Tweek?" Craig asked. His voice was nothing but excitement. "It's over. Did you watch it? All of it?"

"Did you ask me out on a livestream?"

"Hmmmm, no," Craig replied, almost coyly, and Tweek remembered how to breathe properly. "I wanted to ask if you'd like to hang out, actually. I'm not ready to date anyone else right now, but making friends who are also gay and have been out longer than me? I would like that."

Tweek forced his voice to stay steady as he replied, "Yeah, I'd like that too."

---

Red tapped her nails against the lacquered wood of her desk. Her stomach twisted with disgust. She might just vomit over all the negativity surrounding Craig.

She shook her head. No, it's a very vocal few. Most of the reaction towards Craig coming out as gay had been positive. He had plenty of congratulations and even some fanart for him with the Pride flag. Some celebrities even tweeted they were proud of him.

"About time. You'll be happier now, Craig! #LoveisLove" The frontman of Moop, Stan Marsh, tweeted. His partner, Red's old friend, Wendyl, as well as the rest of Moop, also sent Craig their support. Wendyl even went as far as to argue on Craig's behalf in the comments. 

Not that Red planned on showing that to Craig. She couldn't risk him getting involved in an online shouting match and ruining his aloof country boy persona.

Her eyes drifted over the copy of the magazine on her desk. Craig and Thomas were on the cover, walking out in a park and holding hands. Craig’s focus was solely on Thomas and not the beautiful scenery. They must have assumed deep in an isolated park would be a safe place for a secret date. Clearly, they were wrong. 

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Red skimmed the article. The picture Thomas claimed they would publish, one of him and Craig kissing, was nowhere to be found. Red didn’t believe Thomas lied about the photo. When he called, he was stammering nervously and the stress made his tic act up so badly he had to keep starting his sentence over and apologizing.

From Red’s best guess, the photo was probably on private property and the magazine couldn’t legally publish it, but this could use it against Thomas anyway. Not that it mattered in the end. Thomas already admitted he and Craig were dating in the article. 

Red closed the magazine then tossed it aside. Even if Thomas had been tricked into talking, he still was the reason Craig had been strong armed into coming out before he was comfortable, and that pissed Red off.

Grumbling to herself, she turned back to scrolling through the comments on Craig’s latest post, a picture of Petunia in sunglasses and a tiny cowboy hat. It never ceased to amaze her how much he dotes on his pets and treats them like his own children.

Unfortunately, even on a post of a rodent dressed as a cowgirl, people were making hateful comments and asking invasive questions.

Kevin opened the door, steaming bowls in his hand.

"I have leftover chili or microwave ramen." He held up the bowls in turn. "Which do you want?"

Red didn't look up from her computer. "Ramen."

Chili was too heavy and spicy for her stomach to handle. Kevin watered down the romen every time, so she didn't have to worry about making herself sicker.

He slipped the bowl next to her then looked over her shoulder with a frown.

"You need to take a break from those," He told her before spooning chili into his mouth.

"I want to, but I can't." She slurped up noodles. "I'm going to report every bashing comment that might break Twitter's terms of service so Craig doesn't have to see it." Twitter probably wouldn't do anything, even if the comment did break their TOS, but it made her feel better anyway, since Craig decided deleting comments would only make things worse.

Kevin rubbed between her shoulder blades. His hand was warm from the bowls, relieving some of the tension.

"Craig's a big boy, Red. He can handle some hate comments. He's probably been preparing for it for most of his adult life." Kevin set his bowl down to walk behind her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders then rested his chin on her head. Given how tall she was, when she sat was about the only time Kevin could do this.

"I know, but..." A noise of uncertainty left her throat.

He kissed the top of her head. "It'll be alright. Someone else will do something worse soon and everyone will forget about Craig being gay."

Red set a hand over one of Kevin's, smiling softly. He was such a good husband, so caring and sweet and understanding. She hoped Craig would find someone like that for himself one day.

"Hey, do you know who the guy Craig's been texting nonstop is? Some gay internet celeb, right? The one who helped him with the script?" Red asked abruptly.

"Tweek Tweak, I think is his name," Kevin replied. "I checked out his channel: he's got an alright voice and seems like a good guy. Craig really likes him. We should take bets if this is another case of Tuckers falling in love instantly."

Red rolled her eyes at the joke.

“Good thing I’m a Stoley now, huh? Or you would be worried."

Kevin laughed. “Good thing for both of us!”

Red hummed to herself a moment before pushing back her chair, nearly sending Kevin to the floor. She jumped to her feet and spun around.

"I'm done with this for tonight," Red announced, taking Kevin's hand. "You're right anyway. Craig is a big boy." She kissed his cheek. "So, com'on, let's go watch ‘Battlestar Galactica’."

---

The house was much less "Cozy Ranch, Sweet Tea with Lemon on the Table Next to a Fresh  Rhubarb Pie" Charm than Tweek expected, Craig could tell just by the confused expression on his face as he looked around the living room. After the livestream, Craig put most of the western decoration back in the attic where it usually stated. If he had to stare at a ‘Live, Laugh, Ride Horses’ on the wall all the time, he’d vomit. Every time he had tried to ride a horse before, it either nearly threw him off or tried to eat his fingers. He could live and laugh  just find without them

"Something wrong?"

"No. It's just...big. Wow. Way bigger than my apartment." Tweek spun around. "If I let Kiwi loose here, I'd never see him again."

"It's not that big," Craig defended, deciding not to mention that was the main reason he didn't like his own pets wandering outside their pen without him around. Once he and Stan and Kevin spent the better half of a day searching for Stripe when he escaped from the pen

"I think my parents' coffee shop could fit in here," Tweek muttered, bending down to get a closer look at a stone carving Craig got from a trip to Peru.

"You're parents own a coffee shop?" Craig put his hands in his pockets. "So you're from a business family?"

"It is why I have my degree in business management." Tweek reached his hand to touch the nose of the carving but flinched back. "Did you ever go to college? I mean, I think Stan said he met you in college, didn't he?"

Craig picked up the carving, making Tweek stumble back a few steps.

"I left to become a music star," He twisted the carving over, brushing his fingers along the maker's mark at the bottom, "but I was learning about the physics and chemistry required in the fuel propulsion of jets and rockets."

Tweek blinked at him. "So you left college to be a rocket scientist to sing about drinking beer and trucks."

"You know," Craig set the carving back on the table, "my parents had the same reaction."

"You could have gotten us to Mars." Tweek straightened up. "But, you know, I admire that you took the chance and left that path to follow your dream." He grinned. "Really. It's admirable. My parents would have flipped out if I dropped everything to tour." 

He paused then quickly added, "Not that I want to. I like being able to record from my house. Little stage performances are enough for me."

Craig laughed. "No, I understand. It's pretty heart pounding to have a million eyes on you at once."

Tweek shuddered at the thought.

"Hey, come on, my kids are excited to meet you." Craig put his hands on his shoulders and steered Tweek out of the living room and down the hall.

"I've been telling them only good things these past weeks," Craig continued. "How talented you are and what nice handwriting you have." He paused at a door. "I let Petunia sniff your revision, and she loved it so much she nibbled on the paper."

Tweek snorted as Craig opened the door.

The pen took up a sizeable corner of the room and was surrounded by a knee height fence. Inside were several beds and many toys and hidey holes for his pets. Craig noticed one of the sipper bottles was getting low and made a note to refill it, along with their food dish which somebody (Probably Stripe) knocked over into the bedding again.

“Wow.” Tweek’s mouth gaped. “I thought guinea pigs were kept in cages like hamsters, not something like this.”

“I built it myself,” Craig proclaimed, “though, I went a little overboard in size. Three pigs don’t need this much room.” 

His plan was to let Petunia have a litter and have himself an army of guinea pigs, but once recording and touring started up, Craig found it was hard enough providing enough care and affection for the ones he had, so he took all three to the vet to be neutered. According to the vet, they  would live happier and healthier lives that way anyway.

One of the guinea pigs shuffled around in the hammock and poked a nose out. Petunia looked around before spotting Craig. She gave a squeak and scrambled out to hurried over, probably expecting treats. Her noisy journey from the hammock made the other two peek out from sleeping under a fake log.

Craig stooped down and picked up Petunia. He held her out for Tweek to hold.

"She doesn't bite," Craig mentioned when Tweek hesitated. "Promise."

Tweek took her and held her carefully to his chest. Stroking her long, brown fur, Tweek leaned over the small fencing to look at the others.

"She's soft and those two are really cute," he complimented with a nod to Astro and Stripe the Sixth.

"Thank you. I'm proud of my boys," He reached over and scratched Petunia between the ears, "and my baby girl."

Petunia moved her head against his palm with a happy noise.

Astro grew jealous at the attention Petunia was getting and began to get rowdy in the pen to steal some of it for himself. With a smile, Craig stepped into the pen and sat down. Instantly, Astro was in his lap with Stripe the Sixth settling down next to his leg.

Tweek wavered a moment before following after Craig and taking a seat in the pen.

He opened his mouth when his body went stiff.

"Ack!" He pulled his hand to his chest. "She licked me!"

A grin spread across Craig's face.

"That means she likes you." He scooted closer so they sat side by side, much to Stripe’s annoyance as he had just got comfortable.

"Like a dog?" Tweek stared down at Petunia in awe. Clearly, Tweek hadn’t had more interactions with rodents than average house mice.

"Yes, they are very affectionate critters." He pressed his leg against Tweek's, resting his palm on Tweek’s knee. Tweek tensed, but relaxed a moment later and didn't move away.

"Oh? They are? Well, you know, this," Tweek whistled softly, "is what birds do when they like you. They talk around you and sing."

"I didn't know that." Craig leaned a little closer. Their shoulders were touching now.

"Yeah. They sing and tweet all day if they're happy and safe."

Craig hummed a wordless tune, raising his finger to brush a lock of Tweek's hair back. Before his hand left, Tweek set his on top of it to keep it against his cheek.

"Do you want to know what guinea pigs do when they like someone?" Craig tilted his face towards him.

Tweek mimicked the action, twisting his body a little and disturbing Petunia. She made a whining squeak, alerting Tweek that his action displeased her, though he paid her little mind.

"What else?" He asked as his fingers gently squeezed Craig's hand.

"Something a little like..."

The gap between them grew steadily smaller and smaller until Craig pressed his lips against his.

"This." He pulled back, tapped the ends of their noses together, then pressed his luck to kiss Tweek again.

After a few blissful moments, the two parted completely.

This time when Petunia was disturbed she crawled out of Tweek's lap to trot to Craig's. She climbed over his crossed legs and snuggled down next to Astro.

"W... w... " Tweek stammered.

For a fleeting moment, Craig's chest gripped with worry that Tweek might be trying to say "Why did you do that?!" or "What made you think I wanted that?"

"’Wicked’..." Tweek finally breathed.

A snorting laugh escaped through Craig's nose. "I guess it was. Maybe even ‘radical’ or ‘tubular’?" He teased.

"No, I mean," Tweek chuckled, "'Wicked' like the musical. Jimmy gave me tickets to a performance he's helping with next month. Would you like to come? Like as a date?"

If he could grin any wider, his face would have split right down the middle.

"I'd like that, but you know what I'd like even more?"

Tweek's face dusted pink but he smiled too.

"What?"

"You let me take you out for a date tonight since I don't want to wait a month." Craig moved Stripe to his lap as well. The two already there made irritated squeaks but allowed their sibling to snuggle down between them.

Tweek nodded, pushing his hair back from his face.

"As long as there's no mechanical bull wherever you take me." He laughed. "My friend, Jason, rode one once and broke his arm when he fell off."

Craig's expression twisted into disgust before he could stop himself. Tweek furrowed his brow, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Tweek, I have a confession:" he took a breath, "I hate country music."

Tweek stared at him before bursting out into laughter.

"Oh, right, uh-huh." He elbowed him in the side. "That's a good one. If you want to go someplace with a bull, that's fine. Just don't expect me to ride it."

"I'm serious," Craig deadpanned. He leaned to allow his head to fall back. "I guess ‘hate’ is a strong word. I used to like it. I was raised on the stuff, after all."

Tweek lifted himself on his hands to turn to fully face him. His prompting look encouraged Craig to continue.

"When you said you thought it was admirable that I left school to pursue my passion, well, it was actually the opposite. Rocket science is my passion. Music is a job."

"What?" Tweek shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. That's not how it works."

"That's how it ended up." Craig shut his eyes. "Stan needed help taking all his Moop stuff to a venue, so I offered my car. The owner's daughter overheard me singing to myself and said she'd pay me to sing for her."

"Did you?"

"Thirty dollars for singing a cheesy country love song to a girl? Hell yeah, I did." Craig snickered at the memory. "After that, she told me she could get me on stage for a bit if I wanted. I didn't want a glamorous life of a music star, but I was a broke college student and performing there got me a free dinner and whatever tips I made."

He opened his eyes with a frown. "Then it all kind of snowballed from there. I got asked to come to sing there more and more and soon other places were asking for me, and Red offered to be my manager and before I knew it," he fell back, startling the guinea pigs, "I was famous."

Tweek stared at him, big blue eyes searching his face before he took a breath. "Why would you keep doing something that makes you unhappy?"

Craig shrugged. "Money. I sing what people want to hear from me and, until recently, pretended to be what they wanted completely. Just a good old Southern boy who sings songs that pander to other good old Southern boys."

"So, are all your songs just pandering? That can't be all you ever wrote." Tweek chewed his lip. His brow furrowed. Craig could only assume he was thinking about all the songs of Craig's he knew to check himself.

Craig pushed himself up onto his forearms. "I didn't write any of my songs, actually. When I was first starting, Red introduced me to a lyricist. He'd make the lyrics. I'd help with the instrumentals if he needed it."

"That...really?" Tweek moved to sit on his knees.

"Yeah, his name is Thomas." A pang hit his stomach, but he took a breath and went on, "Thomas actually did live a country life, a little. More to draw from than I have. He has Tourettes, and his mom sent him to a ranch camp for kids like him every summer from when he was eight to eighteen."

"Wow, so you’re really a fake," Tweek replied, unamused.

“I don’t auto tune myself or lip sing during concerts. Besides, I’m not the only one. An old member of Moop, Eric Cartman? He left to make a Christain Rock band called Faith+1. Fucker’s as far from a holy Christain man as you can get.” Craig snorted. “He’s even more in it for the money than I am. At least I care about my fans a little. That man would push them into the fires of Hell himself if he was offered a dime for it.”

“But you’re still faking! I mean,” Tweek ran a hand through his hair, “all of your songs can’t be pandering party songs, can they?”

"I do have one song that wasn't just a cash grab."

"Oh, yeah? Which one?"

"‘Hazel Eyes.'"

Tweek’s face twisted in thought as he tried to recall the song. Craig couldn't blame him if he didn't know it. ‘Hazel Eyes' barely broke the top forty for a week then faded into song obscurity. It was still his favorite, though for bittersweet reasons now.

Craig hummed the first two bars at the start of the chorus before he sang, "Black hair; Hazel eyes, looking at me with love long disguised. Hold my hand where dad and mom can't see. Let me with you and you with me. Please never look away from the future of we, my lovely hazel eyes."

Realization crossed Tweek's face.

"I remember that song. I really liked it, but didn't know the title."

Craig bobbed his head. "Thomas wrote that for me."

"Didn't he write everything for you?"

"No, I mean for me. Thomas...he was my boyfriend. I'm the ‘Hazel Eyes' the song talks about." Craig winced, realizing that bringing up a love song his ex wrote him with the man he just kissed was not his best plan.

"Oh..." Tweek chewed his lip "Wasn't Thomas the ex who..."

"Yeah, that Thomas," Craig confirmed. "I think that's another reason I don't like country much anymore. Everything I sing is by him. It's just salt in the wound."

A hand fell on his shoulder, so Craig lowered his gaze from the ceiling. Tweek smiled softly at him.

"Do you want to write a song with me? I'm not the best. I didn't go to college for it or anything, but maybe together we could make something good."

"So, what I told you isn't a deal breaker?" Craig asked.

Tweek shrugged. "No, I guess not. Maybe I can help you break into other genres, or if you want to leave professional music altogether and be a rocket scientist, I can help with that, too, if you want. I find people are much happier when they can be themselves and follow their passions."

Craig stared at him before chuckling. Tweek was such an amazing person.

---

The night wind was pleasant as Craig and Tweek walked side by side down the street. Craig readjusted his coat. For once, he didn't look like something a western store threw up on: A blue zip-up jacket over an old Moop shirt, black skinny jeans, and a chullo hat with a geometric pattern and yellow tassels.

Tweek mocked the skinny jeans when he first noticed them until Craig pointed out that's what he had on as well. At that point, Tweek blushingly hurried them into the theater to find their seats.

Craig raved excitedly about the play they'd watched. Tweek was so pleased that Craig liked it. He'd suggested it on a whim. It was the first idea his brain could provide him with that wasn't ‘kiss him again, you fool!' He hadn't expected Craig to actually agree, but he hadn't expected Craig to confess he’d grown disenchanted with singing country music, either.

"Alright, so were Elphaba and Glinda low key in love or something? Or am I just reading that subtext now that I'm allowing myself to?" Craig wanted to know, lightly swinging their combined hands while they passed under a streetlamp.

Tweek laughed. "I've never read the book, but in the musical, it's platonic, I think."

"You've never read the Wizard of Oz?" Craig stopped and fixed Tweek with a startled expression.

"What? Of course, I have!" Tweek scoffed. "‘Wicked' is based on a book that’s based on the ‘Wizard of Oz’. I've never read it, so I don't know if Elphaba and Glinda are lovers there or not."

Craig chuckled. "Well, I'm going to assume they fucked at Shiz at least once."

With a chuckle of his own, Tweek began to reply when a new voice cut him off.

"Hey! Hey! Craig, you—cocksucker!”

Tweek flinched, spinning around. Sooner or later, he knew some crazed fan would come to harass them. Why did it have to be tonight though? Even with the skinny jeans thing, the night was going so well!

As the man neared, Tweek’s heart pounded in his ears. They weren't too far from the theater, so there had to be more patrons nearby who could call the police if a fight broke out, right? 

Scanning around, he saw only a huddle of people across the street, though they seemed to pay the couple and the yelling man no mind.

A disheveled man with short, messy hay-colored hair ran up to them and Craig stiffened. The man had bags under his eyes so deep that they rivaled the ones Tweek had when he was in the worst of his teenage anxieties.

"S-sorry!" He stammered, doubling over to pant. "I didn't mean to say--fuck!--that."

Tweek straighten. He wasn't much taller than the man, and nowhere near as tall as Craig, but he could be intimidating if he wanted to be.

"What do you want? We're busy right now," Tweek told him firmly. If they left quickly before this man started shouting at them, the night could still be salvaged.

Craig put his hand on Tweek's shoulder. He turned to him, and Craig shook his head.

With a deep breath first, Craig looked to the man. In an uninterested tone, he greeted, "Hello, Thomas."

Tweek stifled a gasp. Thomas? The Thomas? The one who forced Craig to out himself? That asshole?

Rage bubbled up in Tweek. He gritted his teeth and curled his hands into fists. If this jerk tried to cause trouble he would—

Craig wrapped his hand around his and squeezed without breaking eye contact with Thomas.

Thomas looked at their hands then looked away guiltily.

"Craig, I need to talk to--asshole! I need to talk to you." He chewed his lip. "Please."

"Why? So you can sell whatever I say to a magazine again?" Craig somehow remained coolly detached when he spoke. Thomas winced as if Craig just punched him in the gut.

"Craig, please, I didn't mean to. They had--they had a picture of us and--Balls shit!--we were kissing. How could I reply to that? Mother fucker! There was nothing I could have done! They would have run the picture anyway if I didn't answer. I--shit cock!-- I had to tell the truth!"

Thomas slumped forward, shrinking down like a dog about to be scolded for breaking a vase.

"I'm sorry. I did what I thought was best for you."

All at once, Craig’s aloof attitude broke. A low growl ripped from his throat as he stomped forward a step, getting into Thomas' personal space.

Jabbing a finger at his chest, he snarled, "‘Best for me'? If you wanted what was best for me you would have called me when it happened. Not Red. Me. You would have stood by me and helped me figure this out, but you wussed out on me and didn’t even answer my calls."

Thomas’ breath shook as he took it. He blinked hard, but under the streetlamp's light, he couldn't hide that his eyes were wet. 

A pang of pity hit Tweek's stomach. 

Thomas still loved Craig and probably did do what he thought was best. The cold indifference then a blast of sheering hot fury must have hurt more than Thomas let on.

Tweek reached out and grabbed a tassel of Craig's hat. Pulling it, he managed to make Craig step back.

"I'm sorry. I got scared, Craig! I'm not...Look at me! Who would want to come out dating someone like me?" He whimpered.

"I did — would! I never gave a fuck about your tics or how you looked." He squeezed Tweek's hand so hard, that Tweek bit back a yelp. Craig didn’t notice. "But that doesn't matter now, I guess. Goodbye, Thomas."

Craig pulled Tweek down the street. Tweek looked over his shoulder to see Thomas sigh heavily and slowly walk the way he came. The huddle of people instantly turned their attention to him when he neared. They started to console Thomas, but Craig took Tweek around a corner before he could see more.

"Craig..." Tweek started, "Um...that was—"

"Harsh?" Craig stopped, and Tweek bumped into his back. "Yeah, I know. It's the first time we've seen each other in months. He's been avoiding me. I guess it all came up at once."

Tweek twiddled his thumbs. It wasn't his place to say, but he couldn't hold his tongue on this. "I think he really was sorry."

"Yeah, I know," Craig repeated. "I know." He sighed. "Sorry. I just...I'll forgive him some time, but not right now. He threw my whole life out of sync and didn't even have the guts to help me set it back up. I think I'm entitled to making him squirm a little."

Tweek shrugged nervously. "Yeah, maybe, but you're not going to make him suffer too much, right?" 

At least Thomas seemed to have friends to help him through Craig’s retribution, but Tweek still felt pity for him. Breaks up hurt, he knew that from experience, but all Tweek's breakups had been over issues much more trivial or minor than what Craig and Thomas went through.

"Another couple of weeks or a month, and I'll reach out," Craig muttered after a moment's thought, "but, Thomas and I are over. I couldn't ever trust him fully again." He flashed a smile at Tweek before taking his hands gently in his. "At least, I got one good thing out of this."

He bent down and kissed Tweek, slow and sweet. Tweek chuckled and rested his forehead against his.

"I wish I'd been able to meet you when I was younger. I think you would have made an awesome first boyfriend," Craig said with a lopsided smile. 

"You know, I think I just thought of a great idea for a song if you'd like to head back to my place for the night and work on it," Tweek offered.

"I'd love that."

---

AN: Epilogue posted in a week

[livefreeordie13]

Day 1 (Narukami, APLC - Pt. 2)

Day 1 of @souyoweek2019​ “Soulmates or Music: Pick a Song from the P4 Soundtrack”

there isn’t an “AU” after that soulmates option but i went ahead and made a part 2 to my silly Soulmates AU Lawyer!Yu story from last year’s Souyoweek anyway. i put a little link in the last sentence but if you didn’t read it, basically he hires yosuke to be his secretary and yeah, it’s very tropey. 

i’m not afraid of your judgment.

warnings:  little innuendo i guess. 

(Narukami, APLC - Pt. 2)

Yu Narukami, Yasoinaba’s popular new lawyer, had finally landed himself a secretary.

That wasn’t big news to anyone else around town, but it was the best thing to happen to Yu himself since he’d obtained the keys to the small suite he’d converted into his private practice just over a month ago.

His legal assistant’s name was Yosuke Hanamura, a local young man about Yu’s age who attended college and worked part-time for a local retail chain. He seemed . . . entirely different from the type of person Yu might have considered hiring for such a position, in retrospect, but was no doubt bright, interested, and even better - he had no qualms with working late hours when Yu was most available.

The partnership had been a thing of beauty almost from the beginning, as the daytime engagements both men seemed tethered to often meant they didn’t have time for office meetings or organization until much later in the evening when the rest of the town shut down. Yosuke dutifully showed up at the perfect time nearly every day - just as the sun was beginning to set over the lush hillsides of Inaba’s rural landscape - always with a tired but eager smile, and always with two fresh coffees.

Surprisingly, training him had been a cinch. He showed interest and percipience, and seemed to be something of a mind reader when it came to asking questions. Yu was impressed. He had never been great at being trained himself, since he often needed to ruminate and figure things out on his own without the feeling of someone hovering over his shoulders. Yosuke, on the other hand, seemed well-equipped to handle spontaneity and Yu’s stubborn tendency to quick-correct, which came in handy immensely when a client project forced them both to switch gears to something alien.

He was so intelligent, so intuitive, that Yu had been stunned when Yosuke confessed one night that he hadn’t managed to pass a college entrance exam until his third try, and that it was, in part, why he was still attending college at 27. As an academic, Yu couldn’t imagine how crushed he’d have been to score any less than perfect on a test. He certainly didn’t know if he’d have been brave enough to try a second time, either, and thought Yosuke to be remarkably determined.

He’d shyly admitted as much in exchange for that secret, and didn’t hide his appreciation for the flattered blush that crossed Yosuke’s face in turn.

Unfortunately, his quick wit, his affable personality, it only made Yosuke more devastatingly attractive to Yu. It was true that Yu was still kicking himself for allowing his labido to shove itself rudely in the way of his hiring process, but he considered himself lucky in this case. Extremely lucky, actually, since Yosuke seemed a perfect match for this position in every way that mattered, current degree status be damned.

He seemed a perfect match in other ways, too, and Yu was trying to ignore that as much as he could. He knew he ought to be focusing exclusively on his growing practice; a green solo practitioner like himself didn’t exactly have a short list of responsibilities to ensure he didn’t malpractice every matter that chimed at his door.

And dating? Dating was not on that list. Not currently, anyway.

Yu took shelter in the quiet moments he and Yosuke spent in the office together after-hours. A picturesque shift for them generally had Yu at his desk, researching or drafting or emailing, and Yosuke on the floor across the room with a spray of Yu’s files all around him (it didn’t matter how often Yu reminded Yosuke he had a desk to use). It was such a petite office that the young men didn’t have any form of privacy. It didn’t bother Yu, though. He enjoyed looking up to see Yosuke surrounded by the spread of his own files, happily categorizing and identifying their homes, singing along in bits to whatever tune drifted from the headphones Yosuke kept around his neck.

As the weeks passed, the length of time they were spending at the office gradually fell off. Great for his practice and the expense to his clients; bad for Yu and his steadily growing crush. Some days, Yosuke didn’t even have to come to the office at all.  

Yu became pretty disappointed in himself when he realized the nights Yosuke wasn’t there were the nights he couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything. He initially wrote it off as a side effect of weekendless days but that excuse hadn’t lasted long; he’d worked about as much in Tokyo. He’d even gone on solo coffee runs in the absence of Yosuke’s usual friendly gesture and ended up wandering home afterwards, slightly too despondent to return to an empty office.

By the end of the second month of his relocation to Inaba, Yu knew he had it pretty bad.

It may not have seemed like much to anyone - this ridiculous crush he couldn’t shake. “Just ask him out,” he’d told himself. With the soft glances when the other wasn’t looking to the near constant flirting that had ballooned beyond Yu’s expectations, he had very little in his way from doing so. He could ask him out, and he was pretty sure Yosuke would say “yes”. He was more than pretty sure, the further he thought about it. And the further he thought about it, the simpler it felt.

They’d confirm there were no deadlines that day and he’d let Yosuke exercise all his charm giving Yu an official tour of the town he’d grown up in. They’d eat country food and Yosuke would introduce him to the cook, and then Yu could offer to cook for him one day, and Yosuke would show him that excited spark in his eyes that he got when he heard something he liked. And, at the end, maybe at two in the morning, Yosuke would know somewhere quiet, somewhere for just the two of them, someplace outside of their office that had a nice breeze and the sound of crickets.

Yu wondered if Yosuke’s skin would look like the moonlight - gentle and fair - as he leaned in to press their lips together. He wondered if Yosuke would be smiling. He wondered who would drag who to the nearest bedroom, the order their clothes would tumble off them, if Yosuke would fumble with the lamp string or sweep him away in the dark . . .

The possibilities were so alluring they almost made Yu forget that his romantic life had so far been a complete disaster, with one disinterested and fickle lover after the next shifting in and out of his life when it seemed convenient. That’s what he got for routinely dating fellow law students and lawyers, he assumed, but it didn’t make his record look any better.

In his defense, sleeping with people in that circle had always been more of a competition than any real attempt to connect to another human being - and it wasn’t something he missed.

He couldn’t fathom treating Yosuke like that. He was intimidated by the thought of Yosuke finding out how many partners Yu had taken, though, and how shallow that would make him seem. He didn’t want Yosuke to look at him differently, see his brow crinkle and his eyes roll as his respect for Yu washed away with the rain. Yosuke was too . . . important, now. Yu was still a little scared to admit that, but it was true.

Yosuke practically ran his office, and he was fast learning how to take his heart, bit by bit. With every gracious smile and playful wink, Yosuke was nearing the finish line. Yu honestly had to stop to consider whether he was even in control of what was happening between them any longer. Or . . . if he had ever been. Maybe Yosuke been targeting the new transplant this entire time? Maybe he was herding his pray into a kill box like the sly dog he pretended to be some days. It was certainly possible; Yosuke had all the makings of a killer, despite his somewhat quirky habits.

He supposed he’d find out, one way or the other. For better or worse.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d find out tonight.

On cue, the door chimed at Yosuke’s arrival. Just before seven in the evening, after his mid-shift at Junes. The sun was setting.

Yosuke greeted him with his familiar smile and wink. Yu nodded in greeting and stood to come around his desk. With a grateful smile, he quickly took his coffee so that Yosuke could unload his bag and light jacket.

“Ugh, my shift was hell today.”

Yu sipped his drink. Perfect as always, just a splash of cream. “You didn’t have to come in tonight, in that case. I don’t have any deadlines.”

“Yeah, but I got a ton of filing to do. Just look at that stack!” He gestured over to the stack of paper nestled in the thin tray on his desk that, if Yu were being honest, was laughably short.

“You call that ‘a ton’?” Yu snorted. “Do you remember what my office looked like when I first hired you?”

Yosuke hummed, staring into the middle distance for a second. “Mmmm, okay good point.”

He grinned and Yu rolled his eyes, turning back around towards his desk to reclaim his seat. “Well, if you need rest, it can wait,” he assured him. His computer screen had gone black from all his daydreaming earlier, and he hurriedly shifted the mouse so that Yosuke didn’t catch it.

“I’ll be fine. What are you working on?” Yosuke asked, making his way across the room to his little desk and very little tray.

“Um, research.” Yu stopped his nail biting and took another sip of his coffee.

Yosuke gave him an odd smile - well, odd for the situation, but not for Yosuke. He’d been giving him plenty of odd smiles lately, of course. “Researching what?” he asked in a teasing tone, pretending to be engaged in the notes he was holding.

Yu pulled his hand away from his mouth again. “How to make sure cheeky assistants mind their own business.”

“Heh, good luck with that.”

Yu smirked wickedly, flicking his eyes from his screen to glance at Yosuke who had just moved onto the next little stack of papers. Yu mentally chided himself immediately when he noticed Yosuke wearing the red pants Yu liked. Yu had never dreamed of getting away with fashionable looks like that, but Yosuke always made it seem like it was nothing. They fit him so well, too . . .

“Enjoying the view?” Yosuke asked, his voice carefully neutral, as he reviewed his documents.

Yu blanched and shot his eyes to Yosuke’s face. He could feel his face heating up tremendously; even his ears burned. He sat, stunned to silence. Yosuke had never called him out for looking before. In fact, he was more prone to pretend he didn’t notice, and then later Yu would feel eyes on him . . . But the confrontation was terrifying.

Yosuke eventually glanced over and gave him a disarming wink. “Relax,” he said softly. And he meant it. He didn’t pull his eyes away.

Oh. So, Yu was the prey after all, wasn’t he? Yep.

Yosuke had told him to relax yet Yu still couldn’t move, could barely blink. The charms he’d adapted for use in the city were utterly failing him. Probably because Yosuke was “important”, he remembered. And it would stand to reason that flirting with an “important” person would be very different from flirting with one night stands. That was fair. Distinction, noted.  

Yu still looked like a deer caught in headlights, so Yosuke gave a quiet sigh and set the stack of documents down. He looked down at his fidgeting hands. Meanwhile, Yu thought he might burst waiting for what was going to come out of Yosuke’s mouth next. His control over his racing pulse was about as far away as Tokyo, at this point.

“Look, I know I may not be-” Yosuke started, cutting himself off. He rubbed his neck. Suddenly, he appeared unable to meet his employer’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re used to in the city, but I don’t fool around. Weird, I know, because-” he gestured between them, “but, really? This is kinda new to me.” Here, Yosuke met his eyes again, and he seemed completely humorless, for once. “I . . . really like you. Really. Like, I’m not interested in a one-off.” He paused (Yu was suddenly aware how heavy his own breath was). “And . . . I don’t think you are, either, if I’m reading you right?”

Yu let out a breath, felt himself ever so slightly shake his head.

Yosuke quirked a tiny, disbelieving smile. “Good,” he said, smiling wider as it, apparently, sunk in.

Yu stood, cautious and slow, smoothing down his tie and taking measured breaths to still his heart. He swallowed. “I really like you, too, Yosuke. Really,” he emphasized, with a smirk.

Yosuke laughed, a little shrill but clearly relieved. Then, he cleared his throat. “Awesome,” he said, nodding.

Yu might have never seen anyone so gorgeous; he wasn’t interested in the challenge of finding out for sure. Yosuke was drop-dead so, the way his cheeks burned and his hair fell and how his neck looked in that v-neck. And now he could look at it all night if he wanted. Finally.

He really was home now.

“Well, uh,” Yosuke rubbed the back of his neck again. “No deadlines tonight, right? Wanna . . . shut it down for tonight? I know a place that has great steak skewers.”

Yu smiled and removed his tie. “Lead the way.”

[callioope]

Questions Meme!

Hello, yes, this HAS in fact been sitting in my drafts for ages and ages. Thank you to both @crazy-fruit and @ruby-red-inky-blue for tagging me and for waiting forever for me to answer (oops)! I’m sorry I took so long, but y’all ask really good questions and I had to think about some of them!

Question Set 1

1. How are you?

Oh, I’m doing alright! Thank you for asking. The earlier part of this year was rather rough, but therapy has been helping. I’ve been rather busy these past few weeks with traveling, and my schedule going forward is rather busy, too, so while I’m excited for those things, I’m also excited for the eventual moment I can just relax.

2. What would you say are your talents?

Writing. Making fancy color-coded spreadsheets. I’ve been told that my super power is getting random (annoying) songs stuck in other people’s heads. Does that count as a talent? 

3. If you had the chance to start your life again, would you take it?

NOPE. No thanks. I like where I am at right now, and I would not want to relive my awkward years. Er, at least, my more awkward, younger years. Cuz I’m totally still awkward. Just less awkward. I hope?

4. Which language would you like to speak instantly? 

HMM. ALL OF THEM. It’s really hard to choose! 

Language fascinates me, and in another life I feel like I would have devoted a lot more time to learning more of them. Unfortunately, I really hated German class in high school because of the teacher’s tendency to put people on the spot -- I think that is sort of inherent in a language class, but I get anxiety speaking in public. 

Anyways, I suppose I’ll answer Turkish to this question, since spouse and I keep saying we’re going to try to learn Turkish via Duolingo. For the record, my HS offered six languages, which was the most I’ve ever heard of an American school offering, and I was always quite happy with my choice of German. (The others were Spanish, French, Italian, Chinese, and Latin.) I do wish I had maintained my German better, and I that I had more time to learn Spanish. 

5. Where would you like to be right now?

Honestly? I’m pretty happy when I’m at home. But if I had to answer where “else” would I like to be right now, out of the whole world? Being back on safari in Botswana is a top contender, as are a variety of places in Turkey, and also Munich. 

6. What name would you give yourself?

I’ve always liked my actual name (Elizabeth). I know I go by Liz; one of my HS friends was quite stubborn and I’m a bit stuck with it now, but I don’t mind it. There are worse nicknames that come from Elizabeth. I used to go by Fiona online; I’ve always been fond of that one. 

7. What is something you’re currently learning?

OOF, what a good question. I sorta blanked on this at first, and my first thought was uhhhh learning how to cope with my OCD??? I’m doing exposure therapy right now, ish. Emphasis on the ish. Also mindfulness. Does that really even count? I started a beginner’s knitting project several months ago that I never finished, does that count? (I just need to seam it, that’s what I’m putting off. I have knit plenty of scarves; however, this is my first hat.) I’m sort of teaching myself ukulele although I haven’t really learned any new chords or songs in awhile. I would very much like to take more photography classes with a focus on wildlife photography. That involves buying a new camera and... signing up for classes. 

Question Set 2

1. What is a detail in a piece of art/a text that you like that you really admire?

This was very difficult, at first because it was like looking at a bin full of loose things and just seeing an assortment of color and being overwhelmed by it all, and then because once I did start digging around, I kept finding different ideas and it was too hard too choose.

Character-building: In the A Song of Ice and Fire series, when Arya starts working for the House of Black and White, Martin stops using the name “Arya” as she dons different identities. For example, he uses “Cat” for a bit, among other names. It shows she’s trying to be someone else, but the caveat is that there are still little mannerisms and such that show she hasn’t really left Arya behind (I think maybe she bites her lip or something? I don’t remember specific examples because it’s been over 5 years since I read these books, but I do remember really appreciating the general technique at the time). 

Music: In The Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” I love those repeated arpeggios, over and over, building, intensifying, as the white noise comes in and you can just feel the heaviness of desire, of want... (and then I love how it just breaks so suddenly! And I know it wouldn’t have been intended this way because that’s the end of side one, but since I listen to the whole album on spotify, then those bright chords of “Here Comes the Sun” come in and god Abbey Road is the best Beatles album)

Writing: the poetry of Florence + The Machine’s “All This and Heaven Too,” obviously, since literally the title of my blog comes from that. I’d quote that whole song honestly. There’s something that speaks to me about the incapability of language to fully encompass just... everything. I mean, love in specific here, but also just everything. Words are just these little boats we put meaning on and we hope they make it to the other side but everyone takes ‘em a little differently. 

Like, look at this: 

And the words are all escaping, and coming back all damaged And I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how 

And this: 

Words were never so useful So I was screaming out a language that I never knew existed before

Anyways, there’s also something just incredibly soothing about the music, too, and how she sings the song. There’s another line, from Sara Bareilles’ “Miss Simone” that goes “How does she know what a heart sounds like?” which pretty much sums up how I feel about “All This and Heaven Too” (and also many of Sara Bareilles’ song, especially that particular album, but I digress).

Anyways I did have some art examples, but I think I’ve rambled long enough.

2. Is there an idea that you really liked but had to discard because you couldn’t get it to work?

If I really like an idea, I don’t really “discard” it so much as put it on the shelf to attempt later. Out of recent fic ideas, I’ve really struggled with “How to Lose a Spy in 10 Days.” I first thought of this in late spring 2017, and for awhile I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but I was working on Whatever I Do at the time, and wanted to wait before starting another WIP. By the time I got to writing this, the inspiration well had sort of dried up. 

I really like the idea of a fun cat-and-mouse rom-com idea where Jyn and Cassian keep outsmarting each other, with a whole lot of competency kink, some “oh shit we actually work well together!” and maybe some battle couple. And I was really looking forward to both the moment when they both finally let their guards down around each other and the big confrontation when they actually find out each other’s identities. But it involved more mission writing than I was prepared for, and I really struggled with it. I think I need to start over but that involves a lot of working, so it’s unfortunately shelved for now, and I’m working on a “You’ve Got Mail” concept instead.

3. Is there something fandom-related you would like to be able to do (i.e. I’d like to be able to make gif sets but can’t)?

Oh, yes, absolutely! Really anything that’s not writing related, lol. Gif sets, art, etc. But most of all, I have a music video idea for the song “So Close” from Enchanted--like I have a whole story board plotted out in a google doc. But I don’t have any video editing software, don’t even know how you get the scenes for a music video, etc. I have made videos before, but not since high school, and I don’t even have the cheap, basic video editing program I used back then. Sometimes I think I should just attempt make a gif set instead, but there are so many lyrics! and scenes that go with the lyrics! that I don’t know how to consolidate it into that format anyways. 

4. What is a skill you’ve acquired through fandom work?

Hmm, this was tough. I’m going to say HTML. I’m not up-to-date on webdesign at all, but back in my early fandom days, I ran a few fansites. I still sometimes use HTML while leaving comments or to edit posts on dreamwidth or w/e. It’s super basic, but it has helped me at work at a variety of jobs. I take it for granted that people my age should know basic HTML, but a lot of them don’t, and then a lot of people I work with now are older and definitely not tech savvy. 

5. Do you think anyone can learn to create great art, or does it take talent?

Well, I’m going to cheat a little. I do think think that anyone can learn to create great art, but I also think that everyone has a talent at something, and part of learning to create great art is recognizing your skill sets and honing those. If that makes sense? I’ve sort of seen both sides to this. I’ve seen naturally talented people create great things, but I also think that they’re probably cheating themselves if they’re not learning and honing their craft and trying to get better. But I’ve also seen people who started out making things that maybe you wouldn’t call great, but they worked hard over and over again, and looking at their work now, you’d say they were talented without ever knowing the difference. Great art = talent + learning + passion. Did that even answer the question? ...moving on

6. Do you prefer AUs or in-universe? Why?

I prefer to write in-universe, for sure. I find modern AUs more challenging, mostly because--and I feel kinda bad saying this--it’s very difficult for me to tap into Jyn and Cassian’s characters without some kind of tragic background. Their experiences and how they coped with them shape their personalities, and it’s really hard to separate them from those. My WWII was easier because, hey, it’s war, not so different from in-verse. But I initially tried to write Learning Curve in a modern AU and I was just totally bored. Putting it in universe made it more interesting to me, especially having to finagle a happier plot inverse. IDK, it might even be that I generally struggle to make up any conflict in modern AUs that feels interesting.

THAT SAID, lol, I definitely read either. So it’s probably strange for me to be hung up on it because I’ve read nice fluffy modern AUs and found them perfectly engaging.

Tagging: @theputterer, @magalis, @allatariel, @mythologicalmango, @threadsketchier  MY USUAL DISCLAIMER APPLIES: no pressure if you just don’t wanna, AND if anyone sees this and was like “aw hey i wish she’d tagged ME” well guess what, I wish I did too! so go ahead and do it and let me know and then i’ll know to tag you next time, too :-) 

Questions:

When you suffer a setback or a series of setbacks when creating (writing, drawing, knitting, any kind of crafty project thing you work on... even work), what are some strategies you use to cope with that stress and move forward?

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to create/make and what did you learn from it?

What part of a bicycle would you be?

What’s a helpful writing (art/crafting/work) technique you’ve learned?

What’s a piece of art that made you see things differently?

You’re a new addition to the crayon box. What color would you be and why?

What was the last board game you played and what did you like or not like about it?

*sorry these came out rather writer heavy!

[axiumin]

Absolution | Chapter One

Months ago, the lovely DirectorAnon gifted me with a bunch of incredible moodboards and ever since then, this idea has been floating around in my head. The semester has now ended for both me and my students, and the first thing I did was sit down and write what is currently my slowest burn fic to date. Please enjoy this pure self indulgence. 

When anonymous confessions began appearing around campus, you weren’t quite sure what to expect. But before long, you came to realize the value of such confession. Sometimes, you need to be more honest with yourself and the people around you in order to find absolution.

Pairing: Youngjae x Reader

Genre: Drama, College!AU

Words: 2.2k

Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4]

“I’ll never find the words to explain how sorry I am.”

You’d heard the buzz of rumors. Seemingly overnight, a rash of stencil-art phrases appeared around campus. They could be found anywhere: on the sidewalk, tucked behind lecture halls, and even on the underside of a pedestrian bridge, in one notable case.

They were supposedly confessions, offered freely by students and broadcasted anonymously as neat chalk letterings. There was no commentary, no advice. Just a simple ‘@Ars’ underneath each confession. A cursory google search of the handle brought up an instagram profile that featured only melancholic black-and-white shots of places around campus and the surrounding city. The bio simply read, “Confess yourself and be heard.” There was nothing personal, nothing that could identify who Ars was.

Naturally, it seemed everyone on campus was immediately taken with this phenomenon, the idea that you could DM some deep, dark part of yourself to an anonymous artist and have your words physically appear somewhere on campus for everyone to see. The only one who would know your secret was Ars, and there was the implicit promise that they would keep your secret.

Honestly, it sounded rather far-fetched to you, and even though you’d heard the chatter about it seemingly everywhere you went these last couple of days, you didn’t fully believe it until you stumbled across a confession on your way home from lecture.

The phrase consisted of neat lettering, bright white chalk standing out against the hazy grey of the campus this time of year, and, true to the rumors, there was no name or commentary attached to the confession. Just the instagram handle that you figured stood in for the artist’s signature.

As you regarded the confession, you conceded that you might see the appeal of this sort of thing after all. It wasn’t a true apology, of course, but you supposed that whoever had written that at least had some sort of release for whatever had been weighing on their conscience. And who knew? Maybe this sort of anonymous confession could be the first step to true honesty and confrontation.

You puzzled over this as you made your back to your tiny apartment, and it continued to hover in the back of your mind until you settled at your battered desk and pulled up your half-finished term paper. You took in a deep breath, forced extraneous thoughts and musings out of your mind, and tried to focus on the work in front of you.

You sat there for a moment, fingers poised over the keys of your laptop, but as you read through the lines you’d already written, nothing new came to mind. After a long moment, you sat back with a sigh, letting your hands fall to your sides.

“Still working on that?”

You half turned to see your roommate leaning against the doorframe, and you sighed again and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“You caught me, Jules.”

Julia pushed off against the doorway and wandered over to perch on the edge of your desk.

“How’s that imposter syndrome working out for you?” she asked, nudging your elbow teasingly.

You glared and let out a quiet huff. “It’s not imposter syndrome if I don’t know how to write, Jules. I honestly don’t know how I got into this program in the first place.”

Julia made a show of tapping her chin in thought. “Could it be— oh, I don’t know— because you’re a good writer when you’re not so damn critical of yourself?”

“No,” you said, aware of how mulish you sounded. She scoffed and opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off by pushing your laptop closer to her. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Maybe I will,” Julia said primly, pulling your laptop closer so she could read through your attempt at drafting your term paper.

You watched her face carefully as she read through it, picking up on every twitch of her lips and furrow of her brow. When she finally finished reading, she looked up at you, a small frown tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Your rhetoric is as great as ever,” she said slowly, and you didn’t miss the ‘but’ in the offing.

You slumped back in your seat and ran a hand through your hair. “Just give it to me straight, Jules.”

“It’s just—” Julia gestured vaguely at the laptop. “There’s no feeling here. There’s no you. It doesn’t matter how pretty your words are. If you don’t feel what you write, it’s just going to end up being hollow and bland.”

You laid a hand over your eyes and groaned. “I know,” you moaned. “I just feel like every time I try to write more honestly, it just comes across as vapid and shallow or something. It just somehow doesn’t seem professional enough to submit for this program, but I don’t know how to get that professionalism while still getting honesty and substance in there.”

“Hey,” Julia said gently, leaning forward to clasp a hand on your shoulder. “It’s your writing that got you into this program in the first place— your writing and your honesty. You just need to get into the right mindset so you can start writing like yourself again.”

The fingers over your eyes parted so you could peek at Julia. “Any suggestions?”

She shrugged, a wry smile pulling at her lips. “Well, you could always try that confession thing, right?” Before you could protest, she pushed on. “I mean, it gives you practice with being more honest with yourself, doesn’t it? It could be just what you need.”

“I don’t know,” you said slowly. “There’s a lot of unknowns with that whole Ars thing. To be entirely honest, I’m not even convinced that they’re not just making up confessions to get attention or whatever. And even if it was legitimate, it still involves me hitting up some rando on instagram so I can spill my heart out to them and hope that they don’t use it against me in the future.”

Julia seemed to think over your words for a moment before just shrugging again. “I don’t think it’s that deep,” she said. “But you know what? Even if they don’t use post your confession around campus, it gives you practice with even admitting things to yourself or to others. And if they do use your confession, it’s not like you’re confessing to murder— probably— so I’m sure it wouldn’t be that big of a deal even if they did know about a little bit of your insecurity. It’s kind of a win-win either way, don’t you think?”

Well, Julia sure seemed convinced, but you still weren’t quite sure. You hummed in thought, and Julia rolled her eyes and pushed herself off your desk.

“I’m going to leave you to your ruminations,” she said, giving you a jaunty pat on the shoulder. “But I want you to really consider what I said, okay?”

“Sure, Jules,” you said, offering her a small smile.

With that, she left you to the silence of your room and the jumble of your thoughts. You considered the confession you saw earlier, and you once again conceded that there was something about anonymous confession that seemed to provide release. So, with a sigh, you dug your phone out of your pocket and opened up instagram.

It took you moments to find Ars’ profile, and your thumb hovered over the ‘message’ button for only a moment before you pressed it, not allowing yourself time to think twice as you typed out your confession and sent it.

For a moment, you sat and soaked in the enormity of what you just did. It didn’t seem that big, just sending a DM to someone who was likely just an art student on campus, but you still felt strange knowing that you just shared a part of yourself that you hardly liked to acknowledge, yourself.

You let out a shaky breath and went back to typing, wondering when and if Ars would see fit to publish your confession.

You got your answer two days later, on your way to start your shift at the campus library. The letters had already lost some of their definition from the fine mist of rain that had started up during your commute, but you could still see it clear as day laid out on the concrete of the sidewalk: “Sometimes, I feel like an imposter walking around in my own skin.”

Your breath stuttered to a halt, your heart fluttering in the hollow of your throat. Until then, a large part of you had suspected that your confession would never see the light of day. But now, as you saw those words laid out in front of you, you suddenly felt transparent, like everyone who walked past would see them and look right through to the core of you, the small and shivering thing it was. Yet no one so much as spared a second glance for you as they headed to their respective class or job or meeting, and you felt the fear leave you in a slow, shaky breath. The release took something with it, some of the tension you’d been holding in your shoulders, and you thought, Oh.

Seeing your words staring back at you and knowing that someone out there knew how you felt, knew that this is what insecurity lived inside of you, was more comforting than you would have imagined. Yeah, you thought you could see the appeal in this sort of thing, and you were suddenly strangely grateful for Ars.

After another lingering glance, you gathered yourself and stepped carefully over the letters, feeling yourself settle into your skin more comfortably than you had in far too long.

You made it to the library right on time for your shift, clocking in to find your coworkers already huddling behind the information desk, whispering fervently. As you got closer, you finally caught their words and had to blink back surprise.

“Have you seen Jared Hsieh? He’s going for a PhD in Philosophy and Aesthetics, and he has this sort of intensity to him,” said Erika, looking just a little bit too dreamy as she said this. “He seems like the kind of guy to collect confessions, don’t you think?”

Beside her, Jiseob snorted. “Nah, I overheard him talking about how cool of an idea this project is. So unless he’s the sort of self-congratulatory douchebag to gas up his own ideas like that, it’s probably not him.”

Erika’s enthusiasm visibly dimmed. “Well, who do you think it is, then?”

Jiseob shrugged. “Maybe some religious studies major? I mean the Catholic undertones here are kind of off the charts, aren’t they? Just the whole idea of confession. It’s not like there’s specific instructions, but why else would you confess if not to seek some kind of absolution? This ‘Ars’ is definitely giving off some sort of priestly vibes.”

“Jiseob,” said Akram in mock seriousness, “are you trying to suggest this person just likes to be called daddy? ‘Forgive me daddy, for I’ve been bad.’” There was a collective groan.

“You’re not allowed to be part of this conversation anymore,” said Youngjae, looking particularly uncomfortable. You could empathize.

“I feel like I came in at the worst possible moment,” you quipped drily. Erika shot you a particularly anguished look.

“No kidding,” she said. “We were having a perfectly normal and valid conversation about who this Ars person could be before someone” at this, she shot Akram a dirty glare; he looked entirely unrepentant, “had to go and bring up some questionable kinks.”

“I’m always down to kinkshame if you need me to,” you said, forcing your expression to remain solemn.

Erika seemed to consider this. “Maybe next time,” she said. “I, for one, want to keep talking about Ars until we exhaust all interest in this subject.”

Jiseob nodded. “Hard agree. And now that you’re here, we have a new perspective. So, what do you think about all this?” he asked. All of your friends turned to look at you, and you shrugged.

“I think it’s a pretty cool idea, not going to lie,” you said, trying to keep your voice neutral. No one but Julia knew about your confession, and you weren’t about to go around telling everyone about it. “Forums like this help people put words to feelings that maybe they wouldn’t share normally. And even if you’re not into that sort of thing, at least the posts are pretty instagramable,” you said, earning snorts of laughter from your friends.

You noticed Youngjae looking particularly deep in thought, and you nudged his arm with yours. “What about you? What do you think?”

“I guess I have to agree. Sometimes, just being able to share something about yourself like that helps you come to terms with things. It help you feel more comfortable in your skin, you know?” His eyes flashed to yours for a second before he looked down again, and for a fleeting second, you almost felt like he could see through you.

Oh, but you knew what he meant. And as your friends considered to share the breadth of confessions they’d found over the last few days (“I saw one that talking about how they can’t stop thinking about their T.A.’s shapely legs,” said Jiseob, his nose wrinkling. “Hey, that’s valid,” Akram protested), you couldn’t help but think about what Jiseob had said earlier about absolution.

You thought he was onto something there.

[goalcaufield]

Since the Beginning - Jack Hughes

Request: i would love you forever if you wrote something Jack Hughes related

i love you, just saying. also because there was another jack request i’m just gonna write two separate ones because we need more jack content

Warnings: pure fluff. also this is absolutely my favorite thing i’ve written and some parts are lowkey inspired by my own life

Everything began in freshman year. You had heard the name ‘Jack Hughes’ a lot, even before you got up into high school. He played hockey for your high school’s team and was one of the only freshmen doing so which already led you to believing the kid had some skill. And boy were you right.

Since your best friend was dating a boy on the team, she dragged you out to one of the games on a week night to see the boys play in one of their home games. That was how you found yourself with a blanket wrapped around you and your best friend, Emily, and hot chocolates warming your hands from the freezing rink as you watched your favorite sport. 

Your eyes kept drifting to a certain number 43 and you watched as he whizzed up the ice with ease. He received a pass from Emily’s boyfriend, Travis, and one timed the puck into the back of the net. Both you and Emily let out a cheer and the boys went to go fist bump the bench. 

“That was a gorgeous set up,” Emily muttered from beside you and you couldn’t help but agree. Both boys had to have racked up at least a three point night and a win. The boys had won 5-2. 

After the final buzzer Emily and you had waited in the lobby for Travis. You still couldn’t feel your fingers and had the blanket wrapped around your body in an attempt to warm up. After twenty minutes of standing around, Travis finally came walking towards the lobby with Jack by his side.

“Congrats on the win boys!” Emily greeted them with a smile once they had gotten closer. She gave Travis a quick kiss before resting her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Jack, this is my best friend Y/N. Y/N, this is Jack Hughes.”

You smiled at Jack. “Nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You had said. 

“I can say the same for you too,” Jack responded. You felt your cheeks grow red and you gave your best friend a side glance. She just smirked knowing her somewhat master plan had worked.

From then on, it seemed Jack popped up everywhere at school. You had gotten your schedule changed and suddenly you had two classes with him instead of none. He often walked you to class, risking him being late to his own and sometimes he was, but he did it nearly every day. He asked you to go to his games whenever you could and you helped him with homework when he had become too stressed between school, work, and hockey all in one. 

It was a beautiful friendship, really, and everyone could tell there was something going on between you two. Except for you two. You were oblivious to the fact that Jack liked you and the only one who knew Jack liked you was Travis and the only person who knew you liked Jack was Emily. It must’ve been because you tried pushing your feelings aside for him. You had thought nothing would ever come out of it because he was a hockey player and hockey players could often get any girl that they pleased. Jack was definitely one of those guys, especially with the skills and the looks. That was practically a double whammy.

Up to junior year, the two of you had gotten extremely close and had told each other everything. You met Jack’s brothers, Quinn and Luke, and his parents and he met your siblings and your parents. Everyone had just assumed the two of you were together, so when your mom mentioned prom with the kid right in front of him, you nearly died of embarrassment.

“So, what’re your plans for prom?” She had asked nonchalantly as she prepped herself coffee. It had became a routine that Jack would pick you up for school when he was home, so often he would come inside when there was some extra time. 

“Mom!” You had shouted way too early for six in the morning. “We’re not going to prom together.” Your cheeks had to be firetruck red at that point and they only got hotter when you heard Jack laughing. 

“Aren’t you two dating?” Your mom asked, clearly confused. You shook your head vigorously and her mouth made an ‘o’ shape as she turned back to the coffee pot. 

You side glanced at Jack to see his eyes on you, a smile on his face. “Well, we should get going.” You said quickly and Jack grabbed your book bag for you. The two of you had walked silently to the car, both of you a little too embarrassed to speak. Jack was going to be back in Michigan by the time prom rolled around anyway.

When summer rolled around and Jack was then around full time, you couldn’t be happier. One of his first days back for summer vacation he had invited you over and insisted on a movie marathon. It had to of been at least five months since you had last seen him, so when he opened up the front door you grinned and threw your arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around your waist and you two had your little moment, but it was then ruined by Quinn coming down the steps.

“Hey Y/N,” Quinn greeted you. You released your hold from Jack and turned to Quinn.

“Hey Quinn, congrats on the draft! Vancouver, eh?” You had said and Quinn nodded with a smile. After you and Quinn finished your conversation you and Jack headed up to Jack’s room to watch your movies. 

It was only appropriate Miracle was played, so of course it was. Your head wound up on Jack’s chest and his fingers combed through the ends of your hair repeatedly. It was almost an instinct for him at that point.

“Hey Y/N?” Jack asked quietly about halfway through your second movie. 

“Yes Jack?”

He hesitated. “I, uh, never mind,” He stuttered and continued to run his hands through your hair.

“No, what?” You asked and tried to pick your head up, but Jack’s hand kept it down.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He said and his voice was stronger now, almost confident but you could still hear some fear in his voice. 

This time, Jack’s hand didn’t keep you head down and you lifted it up to face him. You had a huge smile on your face. “What?” You asked. You could hardly believe it, and rightfully so. The boy you had crushed on since freshman year was finally admitting his feelings for you.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since the beginning, ever since I saw you with the Maple Leafs blanket wrapped around you and ever since the first time I saw you in those stands. I am hopelessly in love with you.”

“I love you too.” You grinned down at him. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and soon you were leaning down to kiss him, a kiss that should’ve happened a long, long time ago, but sometimes good things need time.