#fuck tumblr for making me rewrite all of this on my phone to be able to post

[agena87]

I got tagged by the super duper awesome @igotsnothing . Thank you, dearie, MWAAAH! 💛

*

3 ships: So difficult to only choose 3, so I'll choose 3 from my fandoms (canon or not), 3 from simblr, and 3 of my own. OK? OK:

Fandoms

• destiel: even if I live to be 130 (as one of my primary school teachers said each "girl" in the class will be), I'll still be obsessed with them (I'm a Dean lover, I want him happy with his angel for eternity, OK?);

• the Doctor/Master;

• merthur

Simblr

• mattodore by, well, @mattodore : I can't get enough of them (esp. Theo);

• arturion by @lost-souls-story (I'm also kinda obsessed with Elias/Alex and Felix/Tao, but arturion will always be my favs);

• Julian/Lawrence (but I'm also getting quickly involved with Gideon/Sasha) by the one and only @igotsnothing , seriously, HOW do you keep me interesting in vampires when I don't even like them in the first place? I'm a werewolf person, ffs! 😆

Mine:

• any version of Wolfie/Mal, either as their OG selves, their genderswapped versions, or any mix of them;

• Max/Lucas;

• Maxwell/Casey from my Sacrélège universe (characters that I need to try and remake, after losing my CC)

Last song: Come Sail Away by Styx (my 3rd favourite song of all time, after Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd (absolute favourite) and Nothing Else Matters by Metallica)

Last film: Still Encanto, so have my last drama instead: Strong Girl Nam-soon (I have only watched the first 7 episodes yet). I don't know why I waited this long to start it, knowing how much I love Strong Girl Bong-soon (I watched that one many times), which it's a spin-off.

Currently reading: Still nothing...

Currently craving: broccoli *nom nom nom*

Fave color: still red (and yellow, and electric blue, oh! olive green too, I forgot that one the last time I was asked).

Relationship status: Rela-what? LOL, I'm a proud aro-ace person, I don't need one of those

Last Thing Googled: "fashion week ss24". I'm not into fashion AT ALL (I'm the least fashion-aware person you could imagine) for a little project I have (we'll see if it ever see the light of day, though).

Current obsession: WILLA (Landgraab-)MÜNCH!

---

Now to tagging... Um... 🤔Let's see:

@pralinesims @theosconfessions @void-imp @ezra-trait @mourirmoths @tricoufamily @saruin @mattodore @cassandragoth26 @unusualsims and whoever feels like it (as for the persons tagged, feel free to ignore, as always)

[flowerslut]

I'm sooooo excited for one fell swoop!!! i loved loved loved the snippets! do you already know when you are going to post it?? also, could you give us a context about the story?

if you have more snippets i wouldn't complain yk

ahhhh! this makes me so excited! I'm also sosososo excited to finish and edit and share it!!! I always laugh thinking about this post where I shared pieces of the old draft for it (scroll to the bottom to read it on the reblog) and this specific thing I said back in 2019 makes me laugh:

it might not be for another decade but a girl would like to return to this idea! maybe!!! she’d have to rewrite the #yikesheavy one-shot first. but like. you never know..... i’ll hit y’all up again when i’m in my 30s.

well jokes on me because I turned 30 this year and have 70k of the first draft written now lmfao. #yikesheavy one-shot included. I have NO clue when I'll be posting it but not a single piece of it is going up on Ao3 or FF until the entire thing is finished and polished to perfection baby!!!! I will eventually post the first chapter of it on tumblr exclusively sometime in the next several months (yes even before I finish) but not until I throw a few more tens of thousands of words onto the 1st draft first 🤪🤪🤪

[context + a special lil treat under the cut! 😌]

I summarize the gist of the story fairly well in this answered ask from october, so it's just as I explain it there.

when the story starts we meet jasper, a 21-year-old freshly-relapsed addict who is sprinting towards rock bottom. this girl, alice, quite literally stumbles onto the scene. she's a rude little amnesiac and the most well-off homeless girl jasper's ever met (not that he has a lot to go off of). very quickly jasper finds himself stuck trying to keep this damn girl from getting herself killed while he barely wants to be alive himself. it oozes codependence! unhealthy relationships! and they make just! about! every! bad decision you can make in their positions! it's great honestly. they're having a horrible time but I'm having a fantastic time writing it and it's pretty much a super-long rewrite of the first twilight fic I ever wrote back in high school! 🤩

if we're lucky I'll be able to split my time between writing this fic and writing roots and hopefully at least one of them will be done and ready for posting by summertime!! no promises, but fingers crossed! 🤞🤞🤞

anyways here's a tiny snippet from chapter 8 since this ask just got me soooo excited to get some writing done this winter!!! enjoy!!!

---------------------------------------------

It was as he was rearranging Alice’s clothes on his arm when someone smacked him on the back of the shoulder. He stepped forward, dropping the clothes to the ground and ducking. Spinning quickly, he pulled his fists closer to his face, readying himself.

“Relax, fuck!” A man stood a few feet away, hands lifted in front of him in surrender. “I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“Peter,” Jasper gasped, shocked to see his friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, motherfucker,” usually Peter’s tone was good-natured but today it held a hint of ice. “You’ve been ignoring my calls all week.”

“My phone’s been off.” He glared, straightening himself back up. He felt a little embarrassed at reacting so severely to a clap on the back, but since getting back into town a few nights ago, he’d been especially anxious. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw your car outside. Why are you in Kohls? And,” he glanced around Jasper, his jaw going slightly slack. “Are those women’s clothes?”

“I’m shopping with a friend,” Jasper growled, turning his back to the white-blonde man and picking the clothes back up. “What do you want?”

“Just checking up on you, God,” he defended irritably. “You fell off the face of the fucking planet when you got fired from Paul’s. Forgive me for fearing the worst.”

Jasper glared down at the pile of clothes as he shuffled them back onto his arm. He hated that Peter—the only person who really knew him—would apparently just know how he’d react to news like that.

“I’m fine.” He lied.

“Then why’d Charlotte see you pulled into Maria’s driveway last Friday?”

Fuck.

“I thought you weren’t in contact with her anymore,” Peter accused, his voice low.

Jasper understood the man’s anger.  Being caught seeing her again was a shameful thing. And knowing that Peter knew about it made him feel worse. The self-hatred that fell over him in that moment was almost suffocating.

“Those aren’t for her are they?” Peter asked, voice still hard as he stared at the clothes Jasper held.

He turned back around and shook his head. There was nothing more he could really say. He was embarrassed. “Are you going to lecture me?” He asked, finally looking his only real friend in the eye.

“Depends,” he folded his arms. “How high are you right now.”

“I’m not,” he muttered. He wasn’t going to admit the fact that he wished he were, because that was a given.

[machinavellian]

hi :)

i just wanted to pop into your ask box to say thank you for writing interstate! (as well as precedence!). interstate is, to this day, my favorite fic, and also, it is the fic that inspired me to start writing fanfiction. i've read it like a million times- i have a pdf on my computer and an epub on my phone so i can highlight my favorite parts. (i swear i'm not crazy, just autistic lol). i could go on and on about how your writing is perfect. the characterization, the plot, the prose itself. i generally hate happy endings in fics but you managed to write one that i love. i'll never stop thinking about how you wrote the sex scene in one sentence. to be able to get across the whole essence in one simple sentence takes so much talent i could never. and the way you did the pov switch without switching povs (where norman is imagining what ethan is doing) was brilliant! (i am awful about accidentally switching povs)

i wish i could explain myself better, but i'm not as good with words as you are.

anyway, since i'm here i also have a question, and i hope it's not too vague or stupid etc. but how do you do it?? (i guess what i mean is, what books/other media inspires your writing? do you have a writing routine or a secret tip? or is it just natural talent?)

sorry for being a weirdo but your fic is my roman empire so to speak

thanks again for writing and publishing (especially in our tiny little fandom!!)

pardon how late this is, i'm not at all good at tumblr lmao. but ahhh, thank you, you're very kind! it's so great to hear that something i wrote meant so much to someone else, and it's SO great to hear that it got someone else writing their own fic! no judgment whatsoever about the hoarding of copies, my autism is the cause of many mysterious choices i make in life 😌

it's a little embarrassing in a way because i most definitely don't consider myself a creator of great literature or anything, i just work hard on my fics and take the process of writing them seriously (maybe too seriously)... but i'm going to try to answer your question/request for tips as sincerely as i can!

read. like for real, read other people's writing! i actually don't do this nearly as much as i would like to anymore and i can tell my writing is a little rustier for it. when i read other people's writing, i sometimes feel like i'm filling up an invisible "tank" that holds my ability to do words good. :') as a personal example, i have a short story anthology by vladimir nabokov that i've been slowly whittling my way through for a million years -- i loved his prose the first time i read it in middle or high school and i think it has been a big influence on my desire to look for unexpected turns of phrase and vocabulary words i didn't know before. sometimes i like to keep a list of new vocab words i encounter as i read to look up later, but usually i end up getting distracted and looking them up as i go. 😩 though this is easier than ever if you're reading digitally, i suppose! i think learning to identify the things you like in writing is really important. for me, that has a lot to do with not only finding the exact words i want to describe something, but also their cadence/musicality in a sentence. i remember very little about the poetry terms i learned in school, but i think learning about the anatomy of poems can be a really useful tool when it comes to prose also! or if nothing else, it can be fun to try experimenting with shuffling around the order of words or substituting one synonym for another to see how it changes the overall sound and feel of a sentence.

write! then tweak/rewrite. i actually hate the advice "you gotta just write" lmao... pisses me off every time because i know it's true 😭 i can dick around writing notes/meta as long as i like (and i do), but there's truly no other way to make progress like just fucking writing SOMETHING down even if you hate it and think it's bad. i used to get academic papers done in college and grad school by quickly and sloppily blasting down the basic gist of my main points like a 10 year old and then going back and revising it to sound like an adult. it's a little different with fiction because i'm writing something i already actually want to write, but it can still help to jot down the bare bones of a scene even if i don't even use it in the end. writing out dialogue can help a lot in my experience. i do feel pretty strongly that revisions are nearly always necessary -- i don't always get my fics beta'd by another person, but at minimum i have to put it down and re-read it for myself to make sure everything is flowing the way i want it to. betas really are helpful, though, because a LOT of times i'll think something makes perfect sense in my head only to find out my friend has no idea what i'm on about lmao. this can also help with things like switching povs, like you mentioned! there's nothing wrong with having a pov switch happen in your fic, mind you! it's just that ideally it's happening because you wanted it to happen instead of like, uh-oh, i need to convey some information about norman that ethan doesn't have a way of knowing. it's funny you mention the fap/fantasy scene because i think that's literally what happened when i was writing it, like... i think i was like "hmm, i want to emphasize that ethan is most definitely Into norman and this thing that's growing between them, but i've stuck with norman's pov this entire time and i don't want to put one solitary scene of ethan pov in there, if i can help it... but hey, norman's a profiler! visualizing what people do when they're alone is his whole thing!" so that was the perfect excuse to frame it that way in the end. ✨

canon review for characterization. this has less to do with the mechanics of writing, but honestly, if i had to choose, i'd much rather read a fic that totally nails the characterization than one that's perfect on a technical level. y'know that meme that's like "he would NOT fucking say that"? i do everything i can to avoid eliciting that response lfkdslf. iirc while i was writing interstate i basically always had an LP of heavy rain playing so i could observe the way the characters react in different situations, listen to their speech patterns and the types of words/language they use, and just kind of... idk, absorb the general vibe a little bit, i guess? i know i just mentioned you have to write Actual Story and not just notes to make progress, but i do also tend to have a LOT of notes about like... "okay so norman actually really likes this guy, but the reason he's holding back his feelings is because he's given so much of himself to his work and he's so used to looking at people in the abstract that he struggles to connect with them, leading him over time to decide that he can't or isn't good enough to be what ethan deserves, and what could ethan maybe say or do to help challenge that so they can move forward?" etc etc.... at the risk of being Very Autistic, i find i do a lot of if/then calculations when it comes to plotting character beats. 😅 "if these two particular lonely dudes start to form a connection one night at a bar, what then?"

have a thesis. this feels kind of ridiculously pretentious when i write it out, but it honestly really helps me a lot with staying focused: it's basically me answering wtf my point is. why do i think this fic needs to be written in the first place? it's the thing i want to accomplish, the idea i want to share with people who read it. even if i don't have a solid statement to make, there's always SOME kind of central question i'm trying to answer -- a lot of times, that question is as simple as "man, you know, i really wanna see these two bone. what has to happen for that to be possible?" for precedence i think it was basically just "hey wouldn't it be fucked up if...?" and for interstate it expanded to "hey i think these two deserve a happy ending and they deserve to share it together. what does that look like?"

so i dunno, hopefully all that is at least slightly useful and not just self-indulgent rambling, but thank you for giving me the ability to self-indulgently ramble if nothing else 😭

but above all, please do not doubt your own ability! writing is hard and sometimes sucks but it's also a lot of fun and there's not a right way to tell the story you want to tell, it just matters that you tell it. so... DO 💪

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 2 REWRITE

Hi y'all. I'm really sad I have to do this all over again because tumblr goofed up big time. I went to edit this for tags and cleanliness and then next thing I know boom it’s gone. I know it won’t be as good as it was when I first wrote it but I will do my best to recreate what I had. This is what I get for not saving it or not doing so when I TOLD MYSELF TOO 😤 again i’m so sorry and here’s my rewrite

Warnings: suggestive language 18+, i think that’t it!

Part 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Aizawa Shouta is a simple man. Wore clothes that were best for him, always did his duty as a teacher and an underground hero. He was always able to do the right or best thing when it was necessary. Never afraid to back down from what needed to be done.

So why is he standing across the street on his day off from a place he’s been meaning to check out for weeks? He studies the business card in his hand that has the name and address of the building he’s currently staring at. Just for good measure he triple checks the address and store name-

“Personally Yours, Book boutique!”

Black almond eyes widen as Aizawa’s thoughts are perturbed by the loud blond next to him. He’s not sure why he allowed his best friend (don’t tell Hizashi that) to accompany him today to meet the intriguing bartender and bookstore owner. (Y/n) (L/n). That name and face has been plaguing him over the last three weeks from when they first met. The way her hair matched and reflected her personality, her amazing quirk, her willingness to make people’s lives better... 

The way her lips looked incredibly kissable and fuckable at the same time had left him with his hands down his pants many nights.

Aizawa looks to his friend as he sees Hizashi grinning widely from ear to ear, eager about what’s about to happen. It’s been far too long since the blond has seen his friend this worked up over anything, let alone a person! But he knew, deep in his friendly heart, that Aizawa would have done nothing if he didn’t intervene and tell him to go visit her.

“It’s about time you decided to go see her ‘Zawa. It’s been what, like three weeks?” 

“You don’t have to remind me.” Yes, he knew. Aizawa knew we waited two weeks and six days too long to finally reach out or do something. But could the world blame him? He’s a teacher and underground hero already looking for the next class of heroes for U.A.; the man hasn’t had a day off in far too long and now he has one. He can only hope that the lady he kept waiting would understand. But she had to, right?

With what seemed like forever, he finally managed to place one foot in front of the other and cross the street to enter the building. The outside looks quaint, almost too perfect for a bookstore in his opinion. It appears to be one story but there might be living quarters on top of it? Aizawa rolls his shoulders to relieve himself of any tension, turns back to his friend before he promptly goes inside…

And immediately regrets his decision. 

The loud sound that bombarded his ears was something he did not expect. Children. Toddlers maybe, but obnoxious nonetheless. He begins to question whether or not he should stay based on the loudness in the store. However despite the noise, he feels a sense of calmness and home-ness that he felt when he had talked with (Y/n) at the bar. The bookstore smells of cinnamon and vanilla, a combination he thinks he can get used to. The layout seems to be welcoming as well. In the middle, which he assumes is the check out and help desk, is a circular module that has different pathways leading to other parts of the store. Each pathway leads to shelves lined up with all kinds of books, lit above by medium sized lanterns that give the store its unique glow. 

Aizawa surmises that the store is an accurate representation of the bewildering woman he met a few weeks ago. Everything about the size, the layout, the aura reminds him of their plethora of conversations from just one night, and maybe more to come.

He approaches the middle desk in hopes that she would be near. Taking in his surroundings, he realizes that the bulk of the noise is coming from the back, which looks to be a cozy reading nook with bean bag and other comfy chairs surrounded by end tables and ottomans. He can feel the chaotic energy from where he stands.

Hesitantly, he pushes the bell near the cash register. 

“I’ll be right there!”

Stunned at the sound of her voice, he waits patiently but also impatiently for the woman that has been haunting his thoughts for almost a month now to appear. His eyes wander to the counter, however at that moment the sound of sneakers hitting linoleum comes closer to him.

“Hi,” she pants out, holding up a finger. “How, whew, how can I help you…”

She drawls out the last part as she finally sees who had called her attention. Seriously, couldn’t this person know that today was extremely busy? But her thoughts come to a halt when she’s met with deep almond eyes and scruff, even though she’s seen it once, could recognize anywhere.

“Aizawa-san?”

“Just Aizawa is fine. Looks like I came at a bad time?”

“Hah, that’s an understatement,” (Y/n) puffs out. Her eyes must be deceiving her. There’s no way he’s actually here. They had met almost a month ago and it was a meeting she’ll never forget. The hard-working woman is never one to make small talk with her patrons but something about him caught her focus and for the rest of the night and the most of these three weeks, was all she could think about. “Once a month we have a local daycare come in and bring their students to look and explore in the store! Helps them get better at reading and finding out what other things they may like.”

The man before her nods in understanding, unsure of what else to say. He had practiced this moment over and over but now that it’s here he’s unsure of what to do.

“I thought you were never gonna show up. But I’m really glad to see you not in a club, it feels more real I guess?” She paused briefly before beginning again. “I honestly thought I made up the whole thing, or that something was wrong with me…”

“No,” Aizawa interrupts, afraid to hear more. “It’s my fault. I’ve been busy with teaching and being a hero.”

“No I get it. I work two jobs too so I understand how busy you are. I’m glad you’re even here.”

The two of them smile at each other, taking in each others features in that present moment. The feel of familiarity reaches them once again, as if everything around them doesn’t exist and it’s just them. Most of the reason he’s never considered meeting anyone is mostly because of his schedule. Many would find it ridiculous how busy the man is but he cares deeply for what he does and bringing someone new into it would be a whole new level of stress he doesn’t think he needs. He’s married to his job essentially, and so it seems is (Y/n).

Their moment is broken when small hand tugs on the pant leg of (Y/n), stealing her eyes away from his. She looks down to see one of her daycare toddlers staring up at her. The little girl, Yuki, unfaltering in her gaze is clearly demanding attention.

“Oh! Hi Yuki, did you already pick a book to bring home?”

The little girl nods and proceeds to lift her arms above her head, making a grabbing motion with her hands. (Y/n) slyly rolls her eyes and picks up Yuki. Holding her in her arms, (Y/n) turns back to Aizawa.

“This is Yuki. She’s a little shy, soft spoken, but absolutely adorable. She’s also one of my favorites because she’s so quiet.”

Aizawa looks down to the toddler in her arms and doesn’t make any moves to approach. The toddler’s eyes widen at the strange man in front of her, eyes boring into his figure to take him in.

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

It takes all of the woman’s strength to not drop the child as her shoulders shake in laughter. Aizawa struggles to hide the embarrassment on his face by looking away from the scene before him. It’s not his fault he prefers to wear all black; it’s slimming and makes him feel comfortable. He’s starting to think that maybe he should have shaved and put his hair in a bun for his day off.

Once his heart has calmed down, he faces the toddler again only to see her being swayed back and forth by (Y/n) as she hums a soothing melody. He knows it’s not a possible thing but his heart skipped a beat at the sight. It was the most domestic thing he’s seen that actually makes him happy.

But at the same time he thinks about having one of his own with her and wanting to fuck her senseless against-

“So I’m guessing this is your day off?”

He stammers, “Uh, yeah. I was hoping we could do something today.”

“Hmm, do something as a date or do something as friends?”

He smirks at her sass, “I’m hoping for the former.”

“That can be arranged. I close early today so, meet me in front of the store at 7?”

“That sounds great, let me give you my number and-“

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

She promptly takes the child to the back and excuses herself from the desk. Aizawa searches around him for a spare piece of paper and luckily finds an unneeded receipt and a very purple pen. Once he’s done writing he sees her come back without the child.

“Sorry about that. But, ah, is this your number?”

“Yeah clearly.”

“Well geez, maybe I will put you as hobo in my phone just for that.”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh it’s happening.”

He rolls his eyes at her antics and smiles at her. He doesn’t know what it is, but something about being around her just makes him calm. “Listen, I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have. But text me when you’re ready. 

“And maybe I’ll give you a night to remember.”

***************************************** He winks at her as he walked out and (Y/n) is left with her heart pumping in her ears. Did she really respond to what Aizawa said with “Oh yeah? Well I hope you do ‘cause maybe I’ll make those fantasies of yours come true. It has been three weeks after all.”? What was that?! She can’t just say she knows what he was thinking by the way his pupils had dilated a couple time, that’s too crazy.

Too weird, nope, she’s not weird at all.

Slapping her cheeks to re-center herself, she approaches the back of her store to meet with the children and her co-workers.

“Finally you’re back,” her co-worker, Kona, sighs. “Who was that? You were gone for a while so I know it wasn’t just another customer.”

“It was, um the guy.”

“Shut up!” he practically shouts, “he came here? After three weeks? Are you gonna see him? Please tell me you’re gonna see him?”

“Kona hush, not in front of the kids.”

He shrugs, “Oh sure, when it’s your sex life it’s all secret secret, but if it’s my sex life everyone has to know!”

(Y/n) slices her hand across her neck. “Shut. It!”

“Fine fine,” he whispers. “But you gotta at least tell me if he gave off daddy vibes at least. Big dick energy? Most guys like that do exude it.”

“You are so lucky I love you or you’d be fired.”

“You didn’t say no,” Kona whisper sang back to her. She did her best to hide the way her eyes widened at that but failed miserably.

Closing time couldn’t come quick enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

here’s the rewrite! @kiribaku-queen @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo

[julemmaes]

Let Me In - October 2nd

Nesta Archeron x Cassian

Prompt sent by @noorismee (I’m sorry Tumblr kinda sucks and deleted the ask, I hope it’s just a one-time thing cause I could go insane)

“I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

A/N: This was so cute to write and I really really miss my friends right now, cause I’ve just started uni and I don’t understand how many things works so I haven’t seen them in a very long time and writing about them is always kinda emotional. I hope y’all enjoy!

p.s. yesterday I made a mistake, cause I put the acotar general tag list instead of the tog one, so, sorry for the ones who found themselves there eheh

Word count: 2,587

Nesta wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so bad.

She had tried to take this exam four times in the last year. Twice in the winter session and twice in the summer one. Everyone had reassured her that the fifth time would be the good one, that this time she would be able to pass it with full marks.

"I'm sure you'll be the best in the class." Elain had told her only the day before.

So when she had arrived home, today, and had opened the email with the rankings and saw that she had failed again, she had screamed in frustration.

She grunted and dropped her head on the table, banging her forehead hard enough on the wood to make a loud thump. She rubbed her hands over her eyes, yawning and jerking when a flash of lightning lit the room as if it were daytime. She put her hands over her ears, waiting for the thunder and staring at the raindrops racing on the window glass, and when the noise stopped, she started reading one of the billions of theorems she had been studying for months.

She turned the pages until she found the chapter on the Fourier series and started to rewrite everything she needed to assimilate every little connotation of the theory so that she could apply it in practice.

She had been flipping through the book for hours, writing things and doing calculations that she knew by heart now. How was it possible that she knew everything so perfectly when she was at home and when she found herself in front of the test sheet, she forgot the logic behind it?

She picked up the phone to see the time and saw that it was ten forty-nine. She would not go to sleep until she had solved all the problems in the book.

A message appeared on the screen just as she was about to turn it off and she raised an eyebrow seeing who the sender was.

She had immediately informed him when she knew that she had failed the exam again, but then she hadn't waited for an answer and had put her phone aside.

Scrolling through the dozens of notifications - most of them from her best friend - she saw messages from her classmates asking her if she had passed.

When she got to the bottom of the list, she grimaced.

‘Did you eat?’

And a few minutes later, ‘Nesta?’

‘If you don't answer me within an hour and a half, I'm coming to your place.’

And then, exactly ninety minutes later, he had sent another message saying: ‘You asked for it. I'll be at your's in twenty minutes, half an hour max.’ followed by a strangely threatening text, ‘I'm pissed.’

Nesta grinned, muttering to herself, "Joke's on you, I won't open the door." and returned without too much thought to her math book.

Five minutes passed before she heard someone aggressively knocking on the door. She sighed, lifting her eyes from the numbers and pondering whether it was better to let him in or let him die outside in the cold and frost. She was about to get up, tell him that he should leave, when Cassian knocked harder on the door. She frowned.

"Arche! Open the fucking door, I'm freezing out here!" shouted the boy. Nesta laughed, looking at him through the peephole and leaning her hip against the wall.

She spoke loudly enough so that Cassian could hear her through the door, "And don't you think you should have asked my permission before coming here and busting my balls?"

She heard him snort and could imagine him closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, "Nesta, please," he seemed exasperated, "open this door and let me feed you."

Nesta raised an eyebrow, chuckling, "Feed me? What am I? A dog?"

"No, you idiot." he laughed on the other side, then, in a more serious tone he asked, "Have you eaten something?"

Nesta hesitated, "Sure."

"I can hear the bullshit from here." a little pause, "Come on, open up."

She opened the door slightly, watching him step forward and Nesta closed the door ajar, shaking her head, "Cassian I have to study." if she had let him in she wouldn't have been able to do anything.

His hair was damp and his usually dark-grey jacket was now black.

"Cassian," he repeated in a mocking tone and making a disgusted face, "what? Are you mad?"

She shook her head puffing, tapping her foot on the ground repeatedly. He followed the movement with his eyes. Looking back at her face, he said, "Even if you were, you wouldn't have the right to. I'm not the one who ignored his best friend all day." he put one hand on the door and pushed it, holding the pizza with the other.

When Nesta struggled to keep it closed again, Cassian laughed. They both knew very well that if he wanted to force his way into her apartment, he would have no problem doing so.

He took one look at her and made what she called whipped-dog-eyes, "I didn't get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you're sad, so let me in." She noticed only in that moment the bag hanging from his fingers. She leaned forward to help him hold it. She hated plastic bags so much, they always stretched out to cut off her hands when she had to carry them around.

Then she metabolized his words and opened her eyes wide, "Did you come on foot?"

She opened the door, stepped aside and let him in. Cassian trotted into the apartment, shaking his jacket off and passing the pizza to her, who moved so as not to get wet, "Are you crazy? It's four degrees outside and it's pouring."

He looked so pleased to finally be inside the house that he didn't seem to hear her.

Nesta placed the food and beer on the kitchen table, careful not to wet the books. She hurried to put everything aside and when Cassian came in and saw what she was doing she tightened her jaw. Nesta noticed.

"What?" she asked abruptly, "Everyone has their problems. You are a fool for leaving the house at ten o'clock without an umbrella and walking for half an hour in the middle of a storm and I am trying to make sure I have a future by studying, and if I have to do it in the evening, that's not going to stop me".

Cassian shrugged, "Az stole my umbrella and my mom needed the car."

A twinge of pain tightened her heart.

She shook her head, "Wait here, I'll go get you a dry sweatshirt, I should have one of yours."

He nodded and Nesta saw him as he started cutting the pizza, taking what necessary and setting the table. When he came back he was shirtless and was rattling his hair, squeezing it into the sink.

She froze on the kitchen door, admiring how the muscles on his back tensed with every slightest movement. It was not the first time she saw him without clothes, there had been many occasions, but it was rare for him to undress in front of her in such intimate surroundings. She cleared her voice, drawing Cassian's attention.

He turned towards her, smiling at her and Nesta thought she was going to die. It wasn't the usual cocky smile he usually gave everyone, it was sweet and sincere. She handed him the sweatshirt without saying anything and sat down.

The first bite of pizza - although it was gummy and cold - was an explosion of happiness in her stomach. She closed his eyes, moaning and took another bite out of the slice. Cassian sniggered, watching her as she finished her first slice.

"Geez, it's so good," said Nesta, with her mouth full of food. Cassian had an amused expression on his face. He nodded his head to the cartoon, "Have some more."

Nesta didn't hesitate and threw herself on the pizza, filling her plate. They ate in silence, enjoying each other's company. She thanked him only when she had cleaned the plate with the last crumb. He had belittled the whole thing by waving his hand mid-air, just saying that she didn't need to thank him, that it was his job to make sure she survived through this exam session.

When Cassian leaned forward on the table to grab a bottle of beer, Nesta stood up, grabbed the bottle opener and handed it to him. He was about to open the second one, when Nesta stopped him, "I'm not going to drink Cass, as soon as you leave I'll go back to studying and you know what alcohol does to me."

Cassian laughed and opened it anyway, pushing it towards her, "Come on Arche," she did not move and looked him in the eyes more serious than ever, "if you put it like that," he took back the beer and the smile died on his lips. He moved his gaze toward the window, "But I'm not leaving".

She moaned, "What the fuck, Cass." she put her hand in her hair, raising one leg and putting her foot on the chair, leaning her chin against her knee.

"I'm not leaving and I don't want to hear your lame excuses about why I can't stay" he looked at her and the worry in his features made Nesta stand at attention.

His tone became more gentle, "What happened today?"

She wiggled her head for the millionth time, frowning, "What do you mean? Nothing happened," and before he could answer her, she added, "except that I failed the mathematical analysis exam for the fifth time."

"Nes..." he passed his hand through his hair, unwinding it and dropping little water left and right. His eyes never left her face, looking for any sign that would give away her apparent calm.

"Cass." she repeated with the same tone. How could he be so good at reading through the lines? Lines that she hadn't even written, considering how good she had been at ignoring him all day long. She figured, that was also a clear sign that something was wrong.

Not even Tomas, her boyfriend, could understand that something was wrong and she had explicitly texted him "I don't feel very well, I'd rather be alone for today" to which he replied with a simple "Ok, talk to you tomorrow".

Maybe he didn't even care what was bothering his girlfriend so much. Surely he would have been angry, though, when he found out that Cassian had spent the night on her couch.

Cassian sighed, also putting down his beer, "You know, you need to talk about anything, I'm always here."

Nesta felt a lump forming in her throat, so she nodded weakly, not trusting her voice.

He looked into her eyes for a few more seconds and when she could no longer hold his gaze, she turned to her books, staring at the sheets of paper that came out of the pages.

"So," said Cassian, changing the subject for her sake, "what don't you understand about mathematical analysis?

She turned to him in surprise, "These aren't things you would understand."

She wasn't trying to insult him or make him feel less intelligent than she were, but the subjects that were studied in the third year of a math degree course required a broad knowledge of previous subjects. Subjects that Cassian would never have even approached while studying foreign languages and literatures.

"Oh, I know, I don't have a sufficiently developed brain for those things, but you need to be distracted and since you want to study so much, maybe you could repeat it to me." he smiled at her, getting up and standing in front of her, pointing to the living room with a nod of his chin, "Couch?

Nesta stared at him, wondering how it was possible that Cassian was her friend. She nodded, following him into the living room and sitting in front of him, her legs bent under her.

The second she opened the book, the black letters on the white pages seemed to cross over. They seemed to dance, not allowing her to read. She would have been able to explain it without reading, but fatigue was taking over. She closed the book, staring at the cover.

"Everything okay?" he asked with a hint of concern in his tone.

Nesta closed her eyes, carrying a hand over her eyes. Her breath started to tremble. She did not want to cry.

She felt Cassian move on the couch and then he hugged her, "Sweetheart?" he stroked her hair, while Nesta took the book out from among them and dropped it on the floor. She clutched to his chest and took a deep breath. The warmth of him seemed to relax her little or nothing and Nesta only wanted to stop feeling this icy cold that seemed to have been poured into her bones.

"I miss my mom," she whispered.

She heard Cassian swallowing, "I figured," he said in an equally silent tone, holding her tighter, "It's normal Arche, her anniversary is approaching."

Right. The anniversary of Amanda Archeron's death would be in a couple of weeks.

Nesta was convinced that Tomas couldn't even remember the month of her mother's death.

"She was so good. She graduated on time. She did everything perfectly. And I'm here and I can't pass this stupid exam," she said against his chest. Her mother went to the same university, she attended classes in the same halls. She had graduated with the highest grades.

Cassian moved slightly, placing his hand on one of her cheeks, caressing her just under the eye. He had a determined look in his eyes and when he spoke, Nesta knew she wouldn't be able to talk back.

"You managed to get this far for a reason. You are not stupid and the test you are trying to take is not easy. Your mother was a genius, it's true, and I understand that you think you are expected to do the same, but no one is going to use such a thing against you," he reassured her. "We are all on your side. The only one who doesn't believe in you, it seems, is also the only one who should." he smiled sweetly at her.

Nesta moved, fleeing that touch so familiar, so comforting.

"I'm sorry." she murmured.

Cassian was still hugging her, "For what?"

"For making you worry, I should have called you and told you right away. You wouldn't have had to come all the way here." she looked him in the face and found an amused expression there.

"I would have come anyway, Nes. Only sooner."

She smiled at him and hugged him again.

They watched an action movie until two in the morning, hugging on her couch. They didn't go to class the next day, staying locked in the house, eating all the junk they had managed to buy on their little trip to the mini market down the street.

Cassian had also managed to convince her not to touch the books for the day and it had taken a while for her to accept.

She just needed her person.

Looking to her right, she stretched her feet over his lap and he smiled at her.

She was kinda screwed.

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added/removed just send an ask or dm me)

@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks

[phoenixhalliwell]

Do You want to know a secret?

Pairings: Frankie 'Catfish' Morales X Gender Neutral Reader

Author's Note:  Sorry for the repost, Tumblr has been a little weirdo and decided it didn't like this fic so somehow deleted it completely! If I’ve overlooked anything that might imply anything other than gender neutral please give me a heads up and I will correct it <3 

Frankie happens to meet the younger miller sibling at a party and drama ensues.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Frankie tightens his grip on the steering wheel of his truck and tries to keep himself calm. The loud music from the party drifts in through the window, causing him to sigh.

'It's just party, it's a safe place. Your brothers are inside. Just go in, have a drink, show face and if it gets too much get the fuck out of dodge.' He repeats the mantra over and over again. So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn't see movement out of the corner of his eye.

BANG

"MOTHERFUCKER" Frankie nearly launches himself through the front window at the sudden interruption.  Heart racing, he turns to the source of the noise, only to see Santiago giggling with his face pressed up against the door.

"I swear to God Pope, one of these days I'm going to end you!" he growls, quickly opening the door and knocking his friend in the face with it.

"Owwwww" Santi whines, rubbing his nose. Frankie just smirks.  "Serves you right pendejo"  Grabbing his cap off the passenger's seat, he shoves it on his head like a protective shield and jams his hands in his pockets.

"Thought you were never gonna get out of that fucking truck Fish" Santi teases but only receives a half hearted shrug of the shoulders in return. He feels a pang of sympathy for his friend and quickly  tries to reassure him.

"Look, I know you're not the best with people, but it's a party! Just have a drink and relax. God knows you need to chill out yeah? Lets head in, it's fucking freezing out here."

Both men trudge up the driveway towards the house, Santi gives Frankie a playful nudge before opening the door and heading inside. Frankie takes a deep breath to brace himself before heading into the 'warzone' The Millers party is in full swing. With the combination of Will's organisation (there is enough alcohol here to open a liquor store) and Benny's love of people, the house is jam packed and the partygoers want for nothing while they are here. Santi is in his element and happily mingles with everyone, smiling and hugging people as he goes. Frankie makes a beeline for the kitchen, his usual designated safe place and finds Will is already there, chatting away to an unfamiliar face. Will's face lights up when he eventually sees his friend and calls out

"Hey man! Didn't think you were actually going to make it"

Will excuses himself from the person he was talking to and rushes over to give Frankie a bear hug.

"Pope can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be" Frankie has to shout a little to be heard.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Santi tackles Will from the side and a tussle breaks out. Frankie just rolls his eyes and grabs himself a beer to watch the show. The boys have a quick catch up in the kitchen before Will is stolen away to play party host. Frankie is nursing his second beer and trying to keep himself calm when he suddenly gets a quick jab in the ribs from Santi.

" What the fuck man?" he growls at his friend. Santi slides closer to him before informing him

" You've caught someone's eye hermano" and subtly nodding over to someone behind Frankie.

Frankie does a quick glance over his shoulder to where Pope gestured and suddenly feels his breath leave him. Standing in the corner of the kitchen has to be the most beautiful person he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. While everyone else is decked out to the nines, they have opted for a more casual approach which he loves. A further glance up and he sees the warm smile which is currently being given to him. Be still my beating heart is all Frankie can think. Ever the Hawk, Santi notices his brother's heart eyes and doesn't hesitate to shout over.

"Hey! Fancy joining us? "

Well that sure as hell snaps Frankie out of his daydreams and panic runs through him. Whipping round he sees Santi wiggle his eyebrows at him and shoot  him a thumbs up with a shit eating grin. Frankie feels his face flush muttering curses under his breath. He's definitely going to end Pope, he just has to figure out how to make it look like an accident. Their new guest is quick to make their way over to them and introduces themselves.

"Hi, I'm jinx"

Frankie gapes down at the hand that is currently extended to him but makes no move to shake it. He feels utterly betrayed by his body right now.' Why are you so fucking awkward?' He wants to shout to himself.

Jinx gives Frankie an unsure look as though maybe regretting coming over. Santi is quick to take the lead  and playfully pushes Frankie out the way to  get to Jinx.

"Jinx! What a great name. I'm Santiago and this useless bastard here is my favourite flyboy Frankie" Jinx lets out a belly laugh at this and Frankie has to hold onto the counter to keep himself upright. A small pang of jealous shoots through him at the thought of Santi being able to make Jinx laugh like that. 'Smooth bastard' he thinks bitterly. After a few moments of listening to the two of them talk, Frankie gets his wits about him and is able to engage Jinx in a conversation. And boy is he given a run for his money. Jinx is funny, sharp as a tack and sarcastic as hell. Frankie finds himself falling a little deeper as time goes on and can't for the life of him remember now why he didn't want to come to this party.

" I see you boys have finally met the baby of the family"  Benny interrupts the moment, slinging his arm around Jinx's shoulder, squeezing their cheeks together before ruffling their hair. Jinx squawks in outrage and lands a sold punch on Benny's shoulder, causing him to wince. The ensuing sibling squabbling begins to fade out as Frankie feels the colour drain from his face.

"Wait. You're Y/N Miller???? I thought you said your name was Jinx?" Santi questions, casting a glance at Fish.

" It's a nickname my brothers call me because everything always going south whenever I get involved" Jinx replies,  face heating up.

Frankie is in the middle of a meltdown at the new revelation. Of all the people at this fucking party, he had to be pining after his brothers' younger sibling. Frankie groans in realisation, causing everyone to turn at look at him in sync.

"You good there Fish? you're looking a little pale." Frankie is suddenly brought back to the group, embarrassed by being  caught out.

"Fine, awesome, Fantastic" Frankie replies with a nervous laugh. Benny narrows his eyes at him before  throwing another curve ball into the conversation, causing Jinx to look away in embarrassment.

"I hope the two of you kept your hands off baby Miller, I know what you're like Garcia!" Benny warns, point a finger at him.

"Not me you have to worry about" Santi mutters under his breath, causing Frankie to elbow him roughly in the side. Benny just glares at the both of them. 'And that is enough fun for one evening, time to retreat' Frankie decides and makes his excuses to his friends. He makes sure to tell Jinx how lovely it was to meet them and before hightailing it out of the kitchen. He's nearly at the front door when he feels a hand on his arm and turns to see Jinx looking at him nervously.

" Look I know this goes against protocol with you and the guys, but I had a really fun time tonight and I'd really like to spend more time getting to know you if you were interested as well. .."  Jinx is suddenly cut off by Benny shouting "YO JINX WHERE YOU AT?"  Sighing, they shove a piece of paper into Frankie's hand , and give it a tight squeeze.

" Balls in your court  Frankie" and then they disappear into the crowd to find Benny. Frankie looks down at the number in his hand, hardly believing his luck. Maybe Pope can live for another day.

 After a lot of back and forth, Frankie bites the bullet and texts Jinx. Palms clammy he rewrites the message for the millionth time before launching the phone on the table and throwing himself dramatically on the couch. He has had found a lot of bad thoughts creep into his mind over the past few days since the party which kept him from messaging sooner.  

'What have I possibly got to offer? Am I good enough? Why would they want to get involved with a washed up old army man? What if this is a joke? Frankie is pulled from his thoughts by a loud buzz and a coldness washes through him. Moment of truth. Taking a deep breath before glancing down at his phone, a surprised laugh suddenly escapes him.  

Messaged received from Jinx: Took you long enough flyboy. You owe me dinner for making me wait.

 It's been so long since he had felt this light and care free and it was Jinx who had brought that out in him. After messaging constantly back and forth, it was decided that their first date would be at a cosy little diner. This eased Frankie's mind as he was already a nervous wreck without bringing a fancy establishment into the mix. It was easy to talk to Jinx and Frankie found himself pouring his heart out about his past mistakes: about his substance abuse, how his license had been suspended and how he'd lost his wife and daughter because of it. Shame welled up in him but was swiftly chased away with the feeling of Jinx's hand covering his and the sweet smile they gave him. The next few weeks were honestly the best of Frankie's life. The couple had come to an agreement  that they would keep whatever was going on between the two of them to themselves. To allow their relationship to bloom without any outside interferences (i.e The Miller brothers) Frankie would wake up to texts wishing him good morning which made his day that much brighter. They would sneak in  frequent date nights and their stolen kisses always made him feel like a teenager. His favourite night had to be when they had went out a drive in his truck and sat in the bed of it looking at the stars and making up constellations to make each other laugh. He had made sure to bring a blanket with them and the feeling of Jinx in his arm's quietened all the noise in his head. He was finally at peace.

Of course he felt guilty about sneaking around with Jinx behind his brothers backs but the more time they spent together, the less Frankie began to care about the 'betrayal' His friends are starting to get a bit suspicious of his shiftiness  but Frankie is quick to assure him that everything is fine. And everything was fine until one Santiago fucking Garcia had to go and ruin everything. After a nice dinner and drinks at a nearby restaurant, Frankie and Jinx ended up back at his house for the evening. As soon as the front door closed, the couple were all over each other unable to keep their hands to themselves. Giggling, Jinx dragged Frankie to the couch before playful pushing him onto the couch and quickly straddling him. Hands roam each other's bodies and they are just getting into the swing of things when the front door is rudely thrown open and Santiago comes marching in

"Frankie what the fuck man why aren't you answering my tex....."

Santi stopped abruptly in the living room doorway, doing a perfect imitation of a fish. Both parties just stare at one another before Santi suddenly points at them and shouts

" I fucking knew it!!!!"

" Please, you didn't know shit" Jinx scoffs while Frankie hides his face in his hands out of sheer embarrassment of being caught. Sighing, he gently rolling Jinx off him onto the couch and receives a confused look in return. Frankie drags himself off the couch and makes his way to Santiago, grabbing his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye.

" Pope, I need you to listen to me right now ok, this is important. Me and Jinx have been seeing each other for a couple of months now and its going so good man. I haven't been this happy in a long time. But you CANNOT say anything to Will or Benny about what you saw. If they find out they're going to kill me!"

Santi looks between the two of you, noticing the way Jinx nervously bites their lip, waiting for his answer. Crossing his heart, Santiago nudges Frankie.

"Don't worry guys, your secrets safe with me"

What a load of shit.

 *a few weeks later *

"OK boys listen up! I want a clean fight. Smack talk is allowed but absolutely no contact or you will be disqualified." Jinx announces to the room.

On one side of the table, Santi is rubbing Frankie's shoulder, furiously whispering instructions into his ear, while his friend is just nodding numbly along but not really taking anything in. Across the way he sees the Miller boys sending him death glares. Frankie gulps, why did it have to come to this?

After Santi (who still feels really guilty about it) accidently let it slip at boy's night the previous evening that Frankie and Jinx where sneaking about together, shit hit the fucking fan. In a slight rage, Benny had tried to strangle Frankie for "breaking the bro code" while Santi was trying to pry them apart all the while pleading Fish for forgiveness.  Will  was pacing the floor off to the side giving Jinx a lecture down the phone about the sanctity of brothers in arms and " WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE FRANKIE JINX?"

Eventually the drama had simmered down and an agreement  had been made. This would be settled through a good old game of Beer Pong (which Jinx had picked because the whole crew were all abysmal at it) The terms and condition where as follows:  If Frankie's team won, he could continue seeing jinx to his hearts content and nothing would be said on the matter.  If the Millers won then Frankie was to never see the youngest Miller again and would be forced to live a life of exile ( Will eventually talked his brother down to Fish having to spend a week in the 'doghouse' for his transgressions) Jinx was chosen to referee the match because there wasn't anyone else who could come out to play at such short notice. The only reason Jinx let this go this far was so that their brothers go to do the whole 'overprotective' thing. They scoff at the thought that benny and Will actually believe they had a say in the new relationship.

Regardless of the outcome, Frankie was going home with them tonight.

"Like all great battles, this is to win the hand of your one true love. We know Benny can't shoot for shit so it's Will we have to keep an eye on. We've got this hermano" Santi whispers in Frankie's ear.

The next hour descends into complete chaos as the boy trashed talked one another and take dirty shots and became the most competitive they have ever been! Eventually there is a tie between the two teams and a hush had fallen over the room. This next one would the deciding turn, his last chance. Santi solemnly hands Frankie the ball. No Pressure. Inhaling deeply, Frankie sends up a prayer and takes the shot......

A rabble of noise descends over the room. It takes him a while to understand that Pope is screaming in triumph while Benny is screaming in outrage.  Frankie finds himself quickly scooped up into a hug, with Santi chanting " WE WON, WE WON!!!" in his ear. When he is eventually put back down, he turns round to see Jinx doubled over , tears streaming down their face, laughing  at the madness. There is a tight feeling in his chest as he suddenly realises just how much he loves them.  Sensing movement just behind him, Frankie quickly turns to see Will beside him. The eldest Miller stares him straight in the eye before sighing and shaking his head.

"Listen Fish, i'm not gonna lie I am not 100% ok with this situation. In my eyes, no one is ever going to be good enough for Jinx, but I suppose if they HAVE to be with someone then you are the best man for the job."

Frankie lets out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding. He sticks his hand out to Will who takes it and gives it a firm shake.

"You have no idea how much of a weight that is off my shoulders man. What about Benny?"

" He'll come around eventually, he's just really overprotective of Jinx." Will reassures, clapping Fish on the back and heading into the kitchen to get a beer.

Frankie's shoulders slump in relief that this whole debacle is over. No more sneaking around, stealing kisses and quiet moments together. No more having to keep his feelings a secret. He can still hear Benny grumbling away in the background, arguing that the game was rigged and demanding a rematch. Santi being the shit stirrer that he is, cackles and continues to wind him up, calling him a sore loser. Frankie finally glances back to Jinx who is leaning against the wall smirking at him.

" Ready to claim your prize Francisco?"

Frankie's heart soars.

[ryosei-hime]

Writer Tag Game

I got tagged by @ernmark

I’m terrible at tagging people in these so if you see this and want to do it, go for it!

How many works do you have on AO3?

I’m gonna start by saying that I have a larger chunk of fics on FF.net because I wrote more back when I used that instead. I also had a very long hiatus from writing fics at all due to mental health and life stuff.

Also I realized recently that a lot of my RvB fics didn’t end up on AO3 and I just left them here on tumblr which was the last time I was super active with fanfic back in 2014.

So, long way around to say, only 20 that are housed on AO3 specifically.

What's your total AO3 word count?

49,141

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Naptime is Best Time which was my most popular RvB fic. A little humorous Grimmons.

Stolitz Week Oneshots - Some of my most recent work since that event only ended recently. Very specifically I got a lot of those kudos after posting Confession which seems to be well-liked and makes me very happy.

Personal Space which is a HuskerDust chapter fic that deals with Husk’s insecurities regarding his demon form.

Sex and Therapy - An OCxRobo Fizz story in which an imp therapist buys a busted up second hand Fizzarolli Personal Companion with intents to help him professionally but uh. *points at the title* This one was very surprising to me because I don’t expect much if any attention to be given to my OC focused things. So that this one got enough to be on the top five makes me really happy.

Apologies - An Alix/Chat Noir fic that I did for a rare pair exchange. Another one that surprises me. : P Especially as I only watched the first season of Ladybug and often forget I even wrote it.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to and if the comment is longer, I definitely do. With shorter comments, it depends on my mood. I’m socially awkward and whether or not saying just thank you feels inane and unwanted as a response will vary with how I’m feeling. I definitely appreciate all comments! Even one word comments. : P But responding will vary based on my own mental processes and has nothing to do with the commenter or my appreciation for the comment. Some comments will make me particularly happy and I’ll read them over again but still not respond because I don’t have anything specific to say in response. It’s mostly a series of noises that can’t be conveyed in text.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Oh! That’s definitely Don’t Cry Usagi. A short fic speculating the long term effects of Naru's role as victim in Sailor Moon's crime-fighting life. I don’t do character death a lot but I had this idea and it wouldn’t leave me alone.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I think I end up with a lot of happy endings. Like there’s probably suffering along the way but in the end things work out more often than not. So, I don’t think that I can say any one fic has a happier ending than another, really.

Do you write crossovers? If so, What is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I was probably more prone to that when I was younger. I did have one that I never posted anywhere that involved Doctor Drakken from Kim Possible attempting to use a device to access a universe in which he had been successful in taking over the world (I think this was before a Stitch in Time came out) and learn how he did it. But of course the device malfunctions and sort of scatters universes. I used pretty much all the cartoons I was particularly interested in at the time.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I wouldn’t say hate. I’ve definitely received some weird responses though. And all on FF.net.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I only very, very recently starting doing so! Because you can only write a character that’s a sexbot for so long without it coming up. It was important that the second occurrence of full on sex in Sex and Therapy (I fade to blacked the first) actually be written because there was a lot of emotion and bonding involved in it that needed to be shown. Which is why I said fuck it and did the shorter one right before it as well. I had to accept I couldn’t tell that story without sex. It’s in the title! But now I’m more comfortable writing it, so I may be more prone to do so going forward.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I’m pretty sure I had a few snatched up by bots grabbing a bunch all at once. But not by a person that I am aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I’m aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I attempted to do so once with a 9/Labyrinth crossover. I failed you @ernmark​. Forgive me. Actually, there was one other time where I was slightly more successful but it also never got posted anywhere or made it beyond a couple of rough drafts. It was a DBZ fic and I remember a much more talented writer was working with me and I was super grateful for their input and help because this was when I was like *maths* 13? I was super young. We were using yahoo chat to work on it together. And this much better/older writer treated me so nicely and wasn’t condescending at all. It was really nice of them. I will always remember you stranger from yahoo chat.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

That definitely depends on the fandom. Since these are the two fandoms I’m active in right now: Stolitz is my favorite Helluva Boss ship and HuskerDust is my favorite Hazbin Hotel ship.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Okay, there are two fics I started a million years ago that I think about rewriting and finishing constantly. I even started to rewrite one of them more recently before Helluva/Hazbin took over my brain. One was Foutley’s Phone Buddies which was an As Told By Ginger fic focused on aged up Carl/Blake. The other Was Crouching Tigger, Hidden Rabbit which was a Tigger/Rabbit fic. That’s right. I ship the fuck out of Tigger and Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh.

What are your writing strengths?

Characters and dialogue. I’m someone with very low self-esteem or it used to be very low. I guess it’s gotten better but it’s still hard to say outright nice things about myself. But I’ve never had a problem saying I’m good at characters. Confessions is kind of a point of pride for me right now with that because of how much attention it’s received for being in character.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot and structure. I write primarily by instinct. And my instinct is primarily character driven. What makes it easy for me to just churn out character interactions without thinking makes it difficult for me when I have to stop and slow down long enough to figure out what’s actually supposed to be happening in the story and in what order for the best pacing. The more my wheels have to actually turn, the harder it is for me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ll do it poorly with flagrant disregard for poor native speakers. I’m so sorry native speakers. I used bacha galupe for Angel in one recently. I didn’t even think about it. I just did it. And I’m pretty sure I learned that from the Golden Girls so how accurate it is or if it’s even spelled right is beyond me. But it’s out there now. I really only do this for words here and there though. If someone’s gonna do more than that, I’ll just write that they speak in the language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The Animorphs! I typed up Animorphs fic in like comic sans size fucking 30 or something and printed it out. I’ll never forget. That was in the late 1990s and my grandfather had just moved up from the printer that had the edges you had to tear off. So it was on this impressive pure white straight sheet of paper. So fancy and it had my giant ass fic on it. Only the best for my Andalite OC.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

I’m still very fond of Naptime is Best Time after all these years. I think Sex and Therapy is gonna be special to me for being one of the longest chapter fics I’ve ever finished (I’ma finish it) because I’ve always been more of a oneshot person until recently. And Confessions will probably stay a favorite for a long time. So, yeah, I’ve just been happier with my recent stuff and being able to write fanfic again after so many years.

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Open Heart: Second Year

I don’t think I’m saying anything that hasn’t already been said before but this is bugging me like crazy. I don’t use Tumblr very often but I don’t know anyone else who plays Choices, so here I am (I guess spoiler alert for those who haven’t played Open Heart).

Open Heart book 1 is one of my favourite books, possibly even my most favourite. I genuinely couldn’t decide between Bryce, Raf and Ethan. I switch between the male and female MC and I’ve been able to give them different personalities. The book had strong writing and a coherent plot with probably three main storylines: Patient X, Panacea Labs, and Mrs Martinez, which all tied together beautifully at the end. Even all our patients came back in the last chapter.

And then Open Heart: Second Year. Where to start.

Obviously Ethan is our boss, mentor and colleague so he will have a vital role in the story, but why push the other LIs aside? Why can’t Bryce romancers steal a few minutes in the hospital corridors where Bryce gives you a flirty wink and a pat on the butt? Why can’t Jackie romancers sneak into her room every so often?

And let’s get started on Rafael. First of all....what the fuck?

I love a little bit of angst so I wasn’t initially too mad when Sora was introduced (actually I think it made me want Rafael more, because apparently I only like men I can’t have...and I’ve gone off Ethan because he would be too easy). But there was none. Sora appeared in chapter 2, where it’s described as ‘stings a little to watch’, but doesn’t appear again until the baseball game in chapter 8 where they cheer for Edenbrook a couple of times. The only kind of ‘angst’ Rafael romancers got was dancing with Raf at the music festival where Sora is briefly mentioned and MC closes their eyes and listens to Raf’s heartbeat (which was a sweet moment, to be fair). Are you seriously telling me that none of their friends acknowledged that he and MC used to date? That they wouldn’t have asked if MC was OK at least once? That they would have invited Rafael over to the apartment without giving MC a heads up? And when PB was asked about this they gave some crap about making things realistic and exploring the mature themes of a medical drama. If Open Heart were realistic, MC would have been fired halfway through book 1 (one of the dialogue options with Ethan in book 1 chapter 6 actually leads him to say ‘consider yourself lucky you’re even getting a next time’) but NO, we get ‘realism’ by losing a beloved love interest and character that people have grown invested in and spent money on, and then completely waste the opportunity for drama.

And then there’s chapter 10.

And going back to realism, they couldn’t think of anything else apart from vengeance and terrorism? Not, I don’t know, just a highly infectious patient which is probably more likely to happen within a hospital?

I do think that chapter 11 is one of the strongest chapters of Second Year, and the book has got stronger since then. But knowing that it might have ended with the death of Rafael leaves a VERY bitter taste. I’m very glad they rewrote it...but what on earth was the thought process behind that?!? Going back to realism again, if they wanted drama and emotions, why not have Kyra die of surgical complications? At least we’d have been somewhat prepared for that as she was introduced as being a cancer patient, and there would have been more angst (especially for Bryce romancers) as he would have had the guilt of not being able to save her when he promised MC he would, even if it was out of his hands. But sure, have Rafael caught in an assassination attempt, that makes sense. And it still doesn’t really excuse Sora, I mean, imagine the pain if he was still an LI and he and MC were saying their last goodbyes in that room??

I was happy with the rewrite to chapter 11 and the kiss between Raf and MC in chapter 12 was beautiful. And PB have actually made something of an effort to include Raf in the rest of the story; I was half-expecting to not see him again until the obligatory 30-diamond scene in the last chapter.

Chapter 12 was so emotional and it was so clear that each character and LI was struggling with the events. And the end of chapter 12 and the beginning of chapter 13 made it very clear that MC was terrified of returning to work. MC has butterflies in their stomach as they walk in to Edenbrook and then...nothing. That was that. As if they just needed to face their fear and they’d be alright again. Now I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure PTSD isn’t as simple as that? It would go far deeper than ‘Oh, I’m alright, just taking it one day at a time’. And the narration specified that MC was uncomfortable at the idea of going back into the diagnostics room where the attack happened, but chapter 14 we’re back in there without batting an eyelid.

Someone (I don’t know who...if you’re reading this let me know!!) pointed out that Danny and Bobby could have been mentioned at the gala...there could have been some kind of ‘in memory’ and donors could have been guilt tripped by MC. But no, not a peep. I keep thinking that we could have had Baz, Zaid and Inez (I miss her) catching up with MC and asking how they’re doing and how worried they were. If you’re going to the gala with Raf there could have been a highly emotional scene between them about what happened in the room. Raf alludes to it in a line of dialogue but there was potential for so much more.

And how about the fact that a group of doctors cured the incurable OVERNIGHT and it worked without proper testing? NO ONE has mentioned that since! Surely there would be papers being published and deeper research being conducted now that lives aren’t on the line? We had a whole chapter about how a research grant would save the hospital but now...nothing?! Ed Farrugia hasn’t been mentioned since chapter 12. No one in the team is talking about how it was June’s idea to convince him to switch to Edenbrook. Surely that would be a huge elephant in the room? Wouldn’t she at least say something like ‘I never wanted this to happen, we went too far’? Something?!

The fact that there has been no follow-up to the attack suggests to me that it was purely for shock value. They just wanted drama and didn’t care about keeping it grounded. And assuming that Rafael died in the original, that’s more upsetting. I can’t believe that he was the least profitable character in the history of Choices ever. And even if he was, was it because no one bought his diamond scenes, or because he didn’t have diamond scenes to buy? I romanced Bryce in my first playthrough, but I remember choosing to assist on his surgery without even thinking about it, I didn’t even look at the diamonds it would cost. So a beloved character would have been killed, and it would have brought nothing to the story.

Furthermore, Sora would never have been explained. Rafael almost explained in chapters 2 and 12 but both times MC cut them off. If Rafael was originally going to die in chapter 11, Rafael romancers would never have got that explanation, unless they were to hear it from Sora themselves afterwards (doubtful). And it’s highly unlikely it actually will be explained. PB will probably say ‘it’s up to you what happened!’ like they’re doing us a favour by creating our own headcanon, but to me that’s just lazy writing; they wanted to write off Rafael and they didn’t care how they did it.

If Second Year hadn’t opened with a funeral scene we might never have been clued into what was going to happen and demanded a rewrite.

Aside from that, there’s Esme. She’s introduced as breaking Dr Thorne’s hand and then has to diagnose and treat him in chapter 10. Depending on your choices, he gets surgery and thanks Esme for saving his life and apologises for the bar incident. Otherwise she doesn’t run further tests and he messes up a surgery which eventually forces him to resign. And then Esme gets her plotline with Levi. If Dr Thorne wasn’t her main plotline, what was the point in introducing him? It’s another storyline that had huge potential--sexual harassment in the workplace, for example--but had little to no payoff and fell off the radar. If PB wanted to introduce MC and Esme the night before they both started working then MC could have just literally walked into Esme and either apologised, asked if she was OK, or told her to watch where she was going, and that would have affected how she greeted you in the hospital the next day. But no, we get this storyline hinted at which is then written off and replaced. Maybe it was a rewrite, I just don’t see why it would have been.

Like I said before, the main storylines of book 1 all tied together in the end, but the storylines we’ve had in book 2 have just felt like completely separate events, just a bunch of stuff that happens and is quickly forgotten. I think the balance of the LIs has been better since chapter 11; even when the gang went to Vegas, Raf romancers got a quick phone call with him. As a Raf romancer, I appreciated that, and it only goes to show how PB could accommodate for all LIs whilst having Ethan integral as our boss (see before, bonus scenes for Jackie romancers sneaking into each others rooms, bonus scenes for Bryce romancers having flirty interactions in the corridors). 

There is such a difference in dialogue if you’re playing Ethan’s romance route or not. I had him stay behind in chapter 11 and I thought it came across as a sweet conversation between a mentor and his protégée. But the other LIs don’t have anything close to that level of detail. Ethan romancers get pretty close to being official in chapter 17 but I’ve heard Jackie and Bryce didn’t get that. And Raf romancers didn’t even get caught sneaking back into the gala. I’m still holding out hope that book 2 will end with all LIs saying ‘I love you’ and being official with MC, but the inequality makes me sad.

I might have had some more to say, but this post has been longer than I intended and I don’t remember what that might have been. I really wanted to like Open Heart: Second Year. Book 1 will always be a favourite, but book 2? It’s like going from the classic era of The Simpsons where Homer was a lazy dumbass but genuinely loved his family, to the modern era of The Simpsons where nothing makes sense and Homer is a straight-up jerk. I just hope that, if we get book 3, they would have learned from their mistakes and Open Heart can be saved. It doesn’t deserve this.

Well, that’s my two cents. Sorry for the long post. If you got this far, thanks for reading.

[divine-motion]

don’t fucking interact if you ship t/cest and minor/adult ships

more shitty phone photos of sketchbook sketches for my tmnt fan incarnation/tmnt 2012 rewrite bc i have no shame and i’m having fun with it! pictures should have captions since i spent time writing them out, but tumblr might mess it up, so in case captions doesn’t work: 1. left to right: leo, donatello up, raphael down, michelangelo 2. Casey Jones up top, April O’Neil to the right, donatello in the middle and karai at the bottom 3. casey and don again, raphael to the left, mikey at the bottom just bc i liked how their their expressions turned out and didn’t want a bunch of negative space so don and case appear again 4. size chart featuring turtles. left to right: leo, don, mikey, raph 5. sketchy Slash design. big boy.

general thoughts character stuff below the Keep Reading. A Lot of rambling below so beware!!

April: 15 years old, trans and bi. local fifteen year old telepath finds out that not everyone is able to feel what other people are feeling, something she’s been able to do since she was six after she played in that one weirdly glowy puddle (early Kraang mutagen attempt that only managed to mutate April in the sense that it gave her telepathy, was originally intended to make humans become part of the Kraang hivemind). she’s largely unfazed by the existence of mutants and aliens, taking it in stride, and finds out about the Kraang - and meets the turtles - while snooping around TCRI business (aspiring journalist that she is) and accidentally witnessing the mutation of Snakeweed. her telepathy, which later as she grows in power alongside the turtles extends to telekinesis and basically possession, is very useful whenever she gets into a scrap since she can predict what moves her opponent will make, thus letting her dodge their blows effectively. personality wise she is a very determined and driven young girl, incredibly curious (and cannot mind her own business, she wants to know all the drama while not having to be part of it... which makes her very fortunate to be a telepath. listen she’s 15 she’s allowed to misuse her powers a little bit. as a treat.), playful, and cheerful, and she’s an extroverted autistic. in her spare time between her studies, she likes to play bass, sing, read, and write. that, and investigating whatever shady business is going on in town, and she makes it very clear to the turtles that even if they weren’t going to deal with the Kraang, she’d continue to try to stop them herself. she would like to not live under the threat of her or her loved ones getting mutated, thank you very much! and, you know, it’s kind of exciting. kind of.

i know it’s bc i have brain issues when it comes to parent figures but i am very much leaning towards Splinter not being... a good dad. i don’t think 2012 Splinter is a good dad anyways but i’d probably amp it up, make him a mix of 2012 and idw probably. i’m still mulling it over but like, remember in the season 1 finale when leo is watching his show and thinks the captain guy making a totally unnecessary sacrifice is a heroic move, and then Splinter tells leo (his fifteen year old child) that leo should know what or who to sacrifice, more or less telling him to sacrifice his brothers’ lives, potentially?? i know there was a lot at stake but hello??? i remember watching it and being like me: ah i see, this is showing that splinter is wrong and there is no need for any sacrifices as seen in the show when the captain Goes Down With His Ship for no reason other than just sacrificing himself, and leo will see that- leo: *tries to sacrifice himself twice in the finale, both times being kind of unnecessary/seemed like if he had just hurried or done something slightly different there would be no need to stay behind, and he gets out fine with no consequences, seemingly no injuries, and does Not learn anything, his brothers don’t even get sad when they think he died or get mad at him for pulling such a dumb move) me: surprised_pikachu.jpeg

like that moment haunts me. has any other splinter told their sons to sacrifice himself or his brothers? has any other splinter put that on them??? idw doesn’t count if he has bc he’s more explicitly supposed to be bad so???

sometimes writers think they’ve made an uncle iroh but they really, really, really haven’t. also his backstory is the same as in the show

anyways. Donatello: 15 years old, bog turtle, nonbinary (he/they, doesn’t mind being called brother but doesn’t like to be called “boy” or “girl” or whatever), bi. he isn’t in love with April. no creepy incel shit here. donnie is instead more like a mix between his Rise and 2003 self. he has trouble expressing himself and is pretty introverted, but he is very altruistic, kind, and compassionate. a lot of his inventions are made to help people and he was driven to learn about science and engineering because he wants to find a way to reverse splinter’s mutation, to give splinter his life and humanity back. he feels like he needs to know if splinter would just abandon them if he wasn’t a huge rat man, needs to know if there’s any part of splinter that blames them for being constant reminders of his mutation. other than that, he also likes to make inventions because he’s a dreamer and wants to experiment to see how much of the unknown he can push beyond. also, the best liar out of the turtles. also fairly good at compromising and prefers to solve conflicts without violence he can get a little... “obnoxious 15 year old genius” at times. even when he’s helpful it can come off as a bit “poor dear isn’t as smart as me”, and while he usually gets along well with Raph, he doesn’t handle Raph’s temper well at all (calls him “Wrathael/Wrath” and thinks he’s being super clever) and gets really dismissive of Raph’s “outbursts”.

Michelangelo: 13 years old, diamondback terrapin, unsure about the gender and sexuality thing but he doesn’t think he’s exactly cis and definitely not straight. a bouncy ball of sunshine and surprising emotional maturity and emotional intelligence! more so than his emotionally constipated brothers, at least. it’s on his thirteenth birthday (it was leo’s idea for them to pick dates that would let them have their own birthdays instead of sharing the “Mutation Day”, Mutation Day being another special “holiday”) that the Plot would be set in motion, as he’s finally allowed to go to the surface same as his brothers, and on this first night out they meet April and the Kraang and other mutants. he is a goof still, but he’s capable in his own right and gets frustrated when people treat him like a baby or an idiot because he’s not. he doesn’t always treat everything with the seriousness it should but like. he’s thirteen, he’s having fun. even so, he’s very insistent of taking responsibility whenever he does do something wrong and gets mad if someone tries to take the blame for something he’s done. definitely the most compassionate and empathetic out of the turtles, he’s quick to make friends and is very persuasive due to his earnest nature and good heart. much like donnie, he prefers to solve conflict without violence but does enjoy knocking skulls a lot more than donnie. unlike donnie, though, he is almost overly forgiving and not petty at all. he’s well aware that his kindness and forgiveness may be taken advantage of, but he still likes to approach people with an open hand, even if he knows that it may end up getting bitten. oh, and his hobbies include drawing, cooking, singing, and dancing. he likes to express himself!

Raphael: 14 years old, mississippi map turtle, trans, bi. all his fury is compressed within his tiny body, that’s why he’s so angry all the time! no, he’s not angry all the time, but he does have a short fuse. he absolutely hates his anger issues which leads to a lot of self-loathing, and a lot of frustration as his family members either don’t take his anger seriously or don’t have the tools to help him with it. he’s the physically strongest out of the bunch and the least agile. he loves animals and plants a lot and keeps a lot of flowers in his room, hoping that he can one day become a gardener. as his idw self, he wants to watch things grow, but no matter what he does he seems to be best at destroying things. he’s also the one most self-conscious about how the human world perceives them, as he greatly fears rejection, and is the first one to see something positive with people getting mutated - namely, that maybe this way mutants will be more well known and finally accepted by society, so he’ll no longer be trapped in the sewer until the end of his days. so yeah, he’s a huge optimist, in truth. also he’s great at knitting - great at creating and taking care of things in general - and there’s no leo and raph rivalry this time around. he can get mad at leo but not really more than he gets with his other brothers.

Casey: 15 years old, nonbinary (they/them), bi. teen vigilante who gets inspired to fight mutants and the big time criminals (no beating up pickpockets or shoplifters or whatever, just the ones that are really hurting people) and gets roped into the turtle fam after meeting raph and becoming unexpected friends (everyone was expecting it, once Casey realized that mutants are people and not weird monsters. well, not all the time, anyways). they struggle a bit in school not because of a lack of trying but a lack of time, as their parents work full time jobs and someone has to take care of casey’s little sister. their parents are very loving, but they only have so much time, so casey takes it upon themselves to take care of their little sister when their parents are busy and/or burned out from work. that, and they run into the classic dilemma of vigilante work clashing with school work. as always, they have a short fuse, they’re pretty cocky, they like beating ass, and they like hockey a whole lot. hockey, vigilante work, school, and taking care of their little sister... yeah, they have a lot on their plate. oh, and making their little inventions like the taser glove and their puck bombs, something that they bond with donnie over.

Leonardo: 17 years old, Central American wood turtle, trans, gay. he doesn’t fall in love with his sister oh my god. ahem. so, leo is raised from the start to be a Leader and has to mature very quickly, learning to be an adult way earlier than he should’ve, and as such he is very stoic and quiet, and doesn’t seem to have any hobbies, instead just doing chores and training almost constantly, and when he’s not doing that he’s reading or sleeping in his free time. he’s incredibly protective of his younger brothers and his other allies/friends, even if he acts distant and detached most of the time, and removes himself from situations where they’re having fun to not be the stick in the mud. he loves his brothers and admires them greatly, believing they could be So Much if the surface world would just accept them, and as a result he tries to be The Soldier so his brothers won’t have to. alas, they still get caught up in the Kraang and Shredder business, which frustrates him internally. he is the best fighter out of the turtles on account of having more years to train (and convincing Splinter to wait a few more years before they got Real training bc Come On Dude They’re Kids) but it’s the Only thing he’s good at, along with stealth and his sharp eyes. he absolutely sucks at talking when it isn’t about a mission or something he can script easily in his head. in his mind, he’s supposed to be more of a weapon than a person, an idea that isn’t exactly encouraged by Splinter... but not exactly discouraged either. his arc would be very paralleled with Karai’s, as they would both learn to hate their dads... also, absolutely down for murder, and a lawful neutral at best, putting his family and friends’ safety above all other things and following a strict personal code. doesn’t care too much for society’s laws, though.

Karai: 16 years old, demigirl, lesbian. same backstory as in the show, she’s born as Miwa but gets taken by Oroku Saki and raised as his daughter. however, she doesn’t exactly want revenge against Hamato Yoshi because she believes that he killed her mother. she never knew her mother, so it’s much more difficult to hate someone for taking her mother away, even if it does mean that she never got to know her mother. especially since her father rarely spoke of what her mother was like, and much more about how much he hates Yoshi. instead, her need for revenge is more for the possibly idyllic life she was robbed of, since she believes that maybe, just maybe, her father Saki would’ve been a kind father that would’ve let her have a normal childhood and not be molded into a warrior from the start if her mother still lived. and hey, maybe Tang Shen would be a nice mom too. being trained in the art of deception, Karai has a tendency to talk a lot and say very little, or at least very little that is true. she is rarely ever sincere and acts as if she’s taking nothing seriously, which is part of her defense mechanism to never let anyone close or see her true self. she mocks pretty much everyone, ally and enemy alike, but especially likes to make fun of her father’s henchmen and is always the first to point out their failures. while she does value honor to some extent, she is a bit “flimsy” when it comes to loyalty, especially after the truth about her father is revealed. when that is revealed, she at first just feels very numb, learning that not only has she been nothing but a tool and a weapon for the Shredder from the very start, but also that the idyllic fantasy where her mother still lived, perhaps her life wouldn’t be so different after all. she looks at leonardo and sees a reflection of herself, that her “real” father chose to train his sons the same way the Shredder trained her. she feels stupid for feeling like she’s been robbed of even a fantasy, but it still enrages her. of course, this also inspires her to stay with the Foot Clan... just to get the kill on Shredder.

... yeah. that got long. ahem. i’m very passionate about this unfortunately!! anyways i might draw/write more for it because no one can stop me and i’m having fun

[devourer--of--books]

if you’re not the bride (deluxe version)

So you may be wondering why is it you're seeing this. Hello, it is I again. If you're here, maybe you're familiar with the original "if you're not the bride', which I posted about three years ago. In case you're not, then, hello, welcome, when I was 15 I wrote a story under this same title. Then forgot all about it. But every so often someone would come across this story and I was reminded of its existence. Then, back in september 2019, I decided to read it again, correct some grammar and call it a day, you know, just so I could rest assured I hadn't written something horrible. Turns out, it got a bit out of hand and I decided to rewrite the whole thing. However, due to the fact that college is the worst, I never finished it and, well, forgot about it, again. Now, as quarantine came around, I found my rewrite from 6 months ago and since I got the time why not, right? This is now more than double the size of the original and has a lot more of backstory than intended. You can still find the original with some corrections here on AO3 and , and the cursed unedited version somewhere on tumblr for the sake of nostalgia. Warnings: There's cursing, some drinking and good old make outs. July 2020 edit: here I am, re-edting this thing again. This all said, welcome folks, to the deluxe version:

"You're going to what?!" Agatha raised her voice, tightly holding her phone to her ear. Surely, she must have heard Sophie wrong. Her friend did have a reputation for being over the top, but this was beyond absurd.

When people said that being friends with Sophie was…an exotic experience, they weren't completely wrong, per say. Being friends with Sophie could be a lot like being friends with a hungry animal. She was ruthless, dangerous and not trustworthy about 60% of the time. Sophie would do most anything to get whatever she wanted and absolutely would step over you in the process (sometimes for no reason other than because it amused her to do so). It wasn't personal, mostly. It was simply her nature.

For her, there were two kinds of people: her friends and her enemies. It was very easy to go from one category to another and anything in between simply couldn't be processed by her brain.

Sophie was a difficult person.

Agatha could tell you in more detail, she would know. Being Sophie's best friend wasn't exactly a dream come true. It had its perks of course, and when all was said and done, Sophie was an okay-ish person and a mostly good friend, but you gotta give it up to Agatha; it was no task for the weak-hearted.

They had been friends since kindergarten and were as different from one another as it gets. Had they met later in life, Agatha is certain they would've never become friends at all. Sophie was a loud, gorgeous (and kinda mean) blonde bombshell and Agatha was a grumpy, average-looking mostly nice girl (she wouldn't call herself kind, really, her niceness was more of a subproduct of her aloofness than anything else). The two of them disagreed in most anything and had not that much in common. Yet, it somehow worked. They argued a lot, as in, a lot, but it was always fixed within a weeks' time, in a coffee shop, over a good old vanilla latte and some black tea.

An odd pair, to say the least.

Which was fine by them. Sophie… was a work in progress. She was trying.

Nevertheless, every once in a while, something like this would happen. Because Sophie was still Sophie and her head worked in mysterious ways.

"I'm getting married, Aggie," Agatha could practically hear the blonde rolling her eyes on the other side of the device, "people do that all the time. It's, like, a thing."

"Sophie, you're not even done with college yet! Getting married with what money? As far as I know, your modeling barely pays your rent and don't even get me started on your student loan and credit card debt! And getting married to whom? Last time I checked, you weren't even going out with anyone!" She tried to cool her head, catching her breath while trying to recall any possible groom Sophie could have taken. "Unless… Are you marring Hort?"

A disgusted groan was heard.

"Ew, no. Not Hort, for God's sake. What do you think I am? Desperate?"

A bit, but Agatha didn't dare say it out loud.

Hort was a guy who lived at the apartment just below Sophie's, in a tiny complex downtown. They've known each other for quite a long time now. It was practically common knowledge that Hort acquired the biggest crush on her the moment he first laid eyes on her. It was all the old ladies from 1A and 2C ever talked about.

Over the years, he became quite easy on the eyes, even Sophie had to admit it. No longer the scrawny awkward kid that helped Agatha drag Sophie's couch upstairs (while Sophie flirted with the trucker, trying to get free shipping for her mattress, which, by the way, she got), but a fully formed man, completely jacked, and with a growing bank account to match, due to his fitness-program-thingy taking off. Agatha didn't really know the details of that, but she knew it was going well, mostly because Sophie told her so.

Anyway, he claimed to not want anything to do with her friend nowdays.

Yeah, right.

Agatha felt bad for him, she really did.

Loving Sophie was like loving a hurricane. Violent, brutal and downright painful.

She had initially assumed it would go away with time, that he would eventually see that they weren't compatible and let it go.

However, it was a bit more complicated than that, as most things in life tend to be.

She knew he and Sophie had hooked up, in fact, she knew that they did so often. Sophie hadn't told her, but she didn't need to. Agatha knew. The aftermath was never good, and for the sake of keeping things short and lighthearted, Agatha shall spare you the angst and just say that, as mentioned above, Sophie was fantastic at getting whatever she wanted and disregarding other people's feelings.

Honestly, Hort could say he wasn't into Sophie all he liked. At the end of the day, he was still living at that shitty apartment (even though he could probably have moved somewhere better a long time ago), hadn't seriously dated anyone since meeting her and was responsible for at least half of Sophie's modeling gigs, which were her friend's main source of income. Agatha had warned him, several times, mind you, but all you can do is all you can do. The heart wants what it wants, she presumes.

"If not Hort, who then?"

"Oh, you don't know him yet," She could practically see Sophie twirling a golden lock on her fingers, a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Clearly," Agatha rolled her eyes and put her phone on speaker to be able to look around for her keys more comfortably. Reaper, her cat, had a bad habit of hiding them in the weirdest places. "Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone last time we went out for coffee?"

"Because I wasn't seeing anyone at the time," the blonde-haired woman sounded a bit annoyed, seemingly not understanding why Agatha was having such a hard time believing her ludicrous story.

"Sophie."

"Yes, Aggie?"

"That was literally three weeks ago."

"It's true love, Agatha. I can feel it. This is my real-life fairytale. I found the perfect guy for me. He's so different from anyone I've ever met…" Agatha tuned her out, finally realizing what was going on.

For Sophie, everyone she dates is her one true love. She was intense like that. There were lots of "perfect guys" on the list, too many, and eventually Agatha grew tired of counting them. Neither did she remember their names. Why bother, when Sophie would grow tired of them soon enough?

Her friend's drug of choice just so happened to be was serial dating with lots of love-bombing on the side.

Parents got divorced? Look at this cute basketball player that will probably cheat on me.

Bad day at a shoot? Oh, that barista is so sexy, bet he'll hook up with me anyway.

I have no idea where my career is going and hate my major? Why not call Hort up, right?

But getting actually married? That's new.

Agatha sighed, picking up her keys from the pot of her balcony plant. Time to be the be the grown-up. Again.

"Sophie, are you 100% sure you want to get married to this guy? Can't you wait a few months at least? How about you guys move in with each other first?" If Sophie doesn't tire of him, that would terrify the poor thing into ending this madness. Again, Agatha would know. She had to stay at Sophie's for a few weeks once, back when she had split with a partner whom she had been living with; it was hell on earth.

"Weren't you hearing, Aggie? We. Are. Soulmates. He is very serious about me. He's so in love with me, he would never hurt me, and I need to tie him down before he runs away. Isn't this what people always say?" Her friend's voice was getting snappy. Oh, no, not good.

"Sophie, I just think you should be more careful and reasonable…" Agatha tried to pacify, tiredly.

Did she not own any clean jeans? Damn. Why does she keep forgetting to do her laundry? The blue skirt she wore to work would have to do.

"It's always reason, with you, Agatha! You never listen to your heart! I thought you would be happy for me! You're always telling me just how much potential I have! He brings out the best in me! What do you even know about relationships anyway, you always end up ru-"

"SOPHIE!" She interrupted, before her friend could say something she'd regret and crush whatever good mood was left in Agatha's body. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Tell me about this guy…?"

Fuck it, she decided. Agatha was in currently in a hurry and this could be solved later. She wasn't going to be able to win Sophie over the phone. Maybe she could sit her down on sunday, have one long talk about red flags in relationships, again. Convince her to stay engaged for a bit longer, just enough for her to get bored and then call it all off as soon as the new whats-his-face walks through the door.

Now was not the moment to be arguing, especially if she wanted to be on time.

"…And he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, it's like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking... but it's natural, he swears. And his skin is so soft, you wouldn't believe, his name is…"

Agatha tried to listen. She really did. However, all she could hear was "bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome". Lord, not this again. Did it get worse every time...?

The brunette stuffed her wallet in a handbag, grappling to close it (it had been a present from Sophie, and as such, probably hardwired to annoy her and look good at the same time), and gave herself a look over in the mirror, before frowning. Oh, time for her limited make-up skills to be of use.

Damn, she looked rough. She left in hurry that morning, so her bare face stared back at her in its full sleepless-racoon glory.

It has been a long week of nothing but late nights trying to get her workload done. She couldn't believe she was saying this, but she missed college. At least back then she didn't have to worry about rent. Oh, to be young, broke, dead-inside and living on a dorm. The wonders, truly.

Concealer, blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. There. Done.

Kinda?

"… So, are you up to it?"

What.

"… Hm, sure?" She responded, still trying to evaluate if her liner was acceptably symmetrical. It wasn't. It never was, but it wasn't always this bad. Really, not her best work. Maybe she could fix it, somehow?

"That's amazing, you'll look so pretty, the dress I picked is perfect for your undertone, you'll be the best maid-of-honor ever!"

Oh, god, no. No way. What has she done?

Should she do that red-flag-talk now?

"How… nice of you to say that," Agatha replied, barely contained horror coming across in her tone. Not that Sophie paid her any attention.

"I set the date for the engagement brunch-party for tomorrow around 10am. At the terrace. And speaking of dates, I must introduce you to someone, he's great, Aggie, and I think you guys could…"

No. No. No. Agatha is drawing the line here.

"Oh really, cool, hey I have to go, callyoulaterbye-"

Agatha throws her phone on the bed, groaning loudly. Reaper stirs in her pillow, but is otherwise unbothered by the conversation, unlike his owner.

Of all things… getting married. Agatha was now her bridesmaid. Engagement brunch…?

Sophie, why. Why?

Agatha was now an accomplice of this crime against good judgement, wasn't she? Should she call Sophie again…?

Ugh, you know what? She'll sort this out this later. Sophie could wait a few hours, Agatha earned this night out.

…This totally is going to come back to bite her, isn't it?

Well, too late, Agatha's leaving. Because, unlike Sophie, who clearly had too much free time in her hands, Agatha had things to do and couldn't just waste her precious friday nights on this kind of bullshit.

.

.

.

"You're late," is the first thing Hester says to Agatha, not even lifting her gaze from her phone as she approaches their table.

It was the usual one, right by the wall, perfectly placed so it was far enough from the dance floor but close enough to the bar, so it was still socially acceptable to be seated but not too "loser-zoned", in Hester's own words.

Hester herself looked the same as always. Dressed head-to-toe in black and showing off an impressive number of tattoos per square inch of skin, she made quite the intimidating sight. The only tip to her actual day job was the discarded white blazer and sleek suitcase lying on a chair beside her. Back in school, Agatha used to find it hard to picture Hester being anything but a witchy-biker or a badass-tattoo-artist, but she supposed scary-lawyer suited her friend just fine.

"Nice to see you too, Hester. I've been well, thanks for asking," Agatha sits down, annoyed. She knows she's late. She missed the "early-comers, free entrance" time, and damn if the isn't pissed that she's now 15 bucks broker then she already was. "Anadil, Dot, it's great to see you guys too"

Both women acknowledge her presence quietly: Anadil nods,before getting up from her spot and leaving to god-wishes-he-knew-where and Dot hugs her briefly, headed to the bar.

Hester rolls her eyes and repeats herself.

"You're late."

"Shut up, I'm here, aren't I?!" Agatha snaps, before she bit her lip and propped her elbows onto the table, head in her hands.

The gesture makes Hester lift her eyes from the phone, finally.

"Well, someone's had a bad day."

"Look, I'm sorry. It's been one looong horrid day. Have you ordered any drinks? Or are we going for beer tonight?" Agatha asks, going over the familiar menu, even though she has every beverage price there already memorized.

"Okay, slow down," Hester yanks the menu out of her hands. "Have you eaten? I'm not going to take care of you if you didn't."

Yes, she would, but that's not relevant.

"Yes, mom," Agatha rolled her eyes. "I'm tired, tomorrow is gonna suck, let's drink."

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow's saturday, loser, sleep to your hearts content," Hester reminds her, but at seeing Agatha stare back at her in misery it occurred to her what, or rather, who, this was about.

"Blondie has been texting me non-stop about brunch. At 10. What's up with that?" She lifts a brow, her judging eyes scanning Agatha's expression. Agatha in turn, lets her elbows drop and bangs her head onto the table, harder than originally planned, a whimper leaving her lips.

Hester sighs. She loves Agatha to the death, but when it comes to Sophie, she has always been way too forgiving. Agatha was not Sophie's mother, she shouldn't have to look out for her and bend over backyards to help her. Personally, Hester and Sophie didn't get along very well.

Which lead to: Sophie never invited Hester anywhere, unless she wanted to rub something in Hester's face.

"...Apparently, she's getting married in, like, two weeks?" Hester's brows lift in surprise. "...To some guy I don't know?" Higher. "...And I'm a bridesmaid?" Almost disappearing into her hairline by now.

Awkward pause.

"Okay," Hester breathes in and out, "what the actual hell?"

"My words exactly."

"She'll be over it in a week," the tattooed woman deadpans.

"No doubt," the other replies.

Three more seconds go by, and it's far too long for Agatha, whose leg starts to twitch under the table.

"You're doing it again," she states.

"Doing what?" Hester asks, crossing her arms, lying back at her chair.

"That thing."

"What thing?"

"You know," Agatha vaguely gestures at Hester's face, "that thing your eyebrows do when you're being judgy."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"I so need a drink right now," she tells her before leaving the table.

.

.

.

At the bar counter, Agatha sits down on a stool and waits for the bartender, Chaddick, to show up, ignoring Hester's glare on her back.

Now for some unnecessary backstory, in case you're interested: Agatha and Chaddick had a bit of history (read, beef) long before this club, The Woods, opened and even before Agatha and Hester started to have their monthly night-out there.

Chaddick was a jock whom Agatha went to school with, all the way from sixth grade to senior year of high school. To be brief, he was the worst ™. He made fun of her, tormented her days, spread rumors about her (including one that she was witch, which lasted for years) and even stole her stuff once. In senior year, he had even developed this habit of showing up with his friends at the tea place her mother owned, where she had worked a few shifts from time to time, ordering not a single drop of fucking tea, being loud and annoying for hours and only leaving when closing hour neared.

Agatha was sure that if you googled 'jackass', his picture would turn up. He'd been so full of himself, all because he had some cash, was athletic and was "cute", you know, in that white-upper-middle-class-way that most school-aged popular boys tended to be. But then, flash-forward: Chaddick now worked wednesday to saturday as a bartender at Agatha's favorite club. Apparently, his parents went bankrupt or something during college. Agatha felt kinda bad for him, but not really? She supposed he wasn't as terrible of a human being nowadays, but she was not about to go ahead and call him her friend, no matter how many times she had to make small talk with him for the sake of bar etiquette.

"So what's it gonna be today?" The bartender asked, not quite politely, but she lets it slide, for she could tell he was as thrilled about this conversation as her.

Chaddick, too, looks the same, to no one's surprise. He looked more tired, but still douchey enough that Agatha didn't feel too horrible of a person for not feeling as sorry for him as she probably should.

"Surprise me. I've had a very bad day."

"Is Sophie actually up to something then?" He asks while grabbing some bottles, "I hear there's going to be a brunch-party tomorrow…?"

"Who told you? Reena?" Chaddick dismisses the name casually with his hand. "Gisele?" 'no', he denies with his head. "Beatrix then?" he nods, uncharacteristically shy, and Agatha nearly felt pleased, before she remembered what they were talking about before. "Bingo. But yes, there's a brunch-party tomorrow. An engagement brunch-party."

He hands her a cup, wide-eyed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Engagement? Do I even wanna know w-"

"You don't. Trust me on this," Agatha cuts him off, taking a sip of the beverage. She doesn't recognize its taste, which makes her wary. She knows her alchool. "What did you even put here?"

"It's a secret, tonight's special," he winked mockingly, before hurrying on to the next client.

Agatha briefly wonders if she should drink the rest of it, eyeing the cup curiously. It didn't smell bad and she kind of liked the taste. Should she trust Chaddick? Probably not. Then again, Agatha needed a drink tonight.

It would be fine. She is no lightweight, Hester is here, tomorrow's saturday. Right?

Another thing that would probably bite her later. So, she braces herself and downs the cup in a few large sips, heading back to her table.

Bring it on.

.

.

.

Two other cups of who-knows-what and an hour later, Agatha was back at the bar, now sitting in different stool, as far from Chaddick as she possibly could be, when a body drops on the sit next to her.

It's Dot, giggling loudly like a high school girl on heavy drugs.

The giggling persists for quite some time.

... It's kinda creeping Agatha out.

"Penny for your thoughts…?" She tries, taking a sip of her drink.

No response.

Giggle.

More silence.

"Hm, Dot?"

She continues to stare at her joyfully, still smiling like a madwoman.

Agatha found Dot adorable and friendly, which was a surprise since she was one of Hester's best friends. The two of them weren't really that close themselves, but she did enjoy her company. Being friends with Dot was as easy as it was harmless.

"Don't look, but there's a really hot guy right by the pool table who hasn't been able to take his eyes off you for the last fifteen minutes."

Agatha's eyebrows shot up in Hester-like fashion and she fights the instinct to turn around and check if Dot isn't messing with her.

She knows she is not the most attractive female in the room. Agatha tends to think of herself as more of an acquired taste, truly. Yet, every blue moon someone would come over to try their luck with her. Sometimes they're cute, sometimes they're funny and sometimes they're just desperate. So far, "hot guys" haven't really been her target demographic.

"So what? What's the big deal?" She tries to keep her nerves out of her voice, mostly succeeding, but Dot's smile only grew more and more mischievous, as if seeing right through her.

"Turn around. I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago, at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"

…Okay, so Agatha might be a bit of a bad friend. She didn't listen to 90% of Sophie's rants about guys or modeling events, so most likely she had told her about him as Agatha did something else. Something important, really.

…Like playing games on her tablet.

She worked a lot, okay? Can't have people hogging all her free time. Even if it was Sophie. Her best friend.

Shit.

Agatha's face must have betrayed her because Dot laughed even louder than before.

"You seriously don't?" she managed to ask between giggles, as Agatha blushed, frowning.

"I should?"

"Most likely yes. Sometimes you're way too funny, you know?" Her smile was dangerous. Stop smiling at Agatha like that, woman.

It was at times like this she could see why Hester and Dot were such good friends.

"Thanks, I think?" Agatha eyes her companion carefully "How hot is this guy any…"

"Hot enough for you to talk to me, I hope," a male voice announced behind her, seemingly amused.

Not her day. Definitely not her day.

"He's right behind me?!"

Dot giggled loudly a final time before walking away to Hester's table. Very helpful. Forget what Agatha said about liking Dot. She didn't. Dot was a horrible person.

Agatha turned on her heels, facing the stranger with a sheepish smile. She was not ready for what was about to bite her.

Oh damn, please do.

…Figuratively, fuck. She meant in a figurative way.

Before we go on, Agatha would like to clarify that she blames any less than pure thoughts on Chaddick, because who knows what he put into her drink.

(Yeah, it's totally Chaddick's fault)

Amen, praise Jesus, okay?

Embarrassingly, her first instinct is to say that yes, he was totally hot enough to talk to her. Or come home with her. Or marry her (too soon for this joke, scratch that). That's not what she did, however. Oh, no, she stood there, in silence, and stared for quite a while before her brain rebooted and she finally gained control of her own body again.

Agatha is the first in line to advocate on why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but she had eyes.

He was tall. As tall, if not taller than her, and Agatha was a tall woman. His jeans looked expensive and his light blue social shirt was tight on his chest, almost as if it were a size too small, the top buttons open, defined muscles visible to even the most casual observer. The shirt was paired with a grey-ish tie that hanged loosely around his neck, a bit too effortless-looking to be unintentional. His features were sharp, sculpted even, a certain California-sunny-surfer meets Adonis-next-door quality to them. Soft blond locks had an unnatural shine under the club's lights, as if they were made of gold.

And his eyes, my god, they were so blue Agatha felt like sinking and drowning in his arms right then and there. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Because you see, she is a grown woman and had a little thing called dignity.

Not that she didn't want to though.

Focus.

He did look kind of familiar. Had they met before? Agatha doesn't think so. This man looked like he just walked out of a Calvin Klein ad, and she sure as hell didn't know many people who look like that. One of Sophie's model friends? If so, she certainly hadn't introduced the two.

Yet, the way he was looking at her right now indicated the reality that she should probably know who he is. Maybe he was from her old gym, back when she let Sophie talk her into going for a few months? No, there were no hot guys there, just old ladies and teenagers.

Okay, so, plan B, say something smart.

"Hm…"

Say something.

"…So…"

Anything!

He doesn't look very impressed by her articulate conversation skills, but Agatha can't place where she had seen him before. Maybe they had been neighbors at some point? She moved quite a few times in these last years and keeping track of all of them was impossible. But that didn't seem quite right. A friend of one of her exes then? Did they meet at pride or something?

Seriously, who was this guy! Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is! He's good looking enough to be memorable sure, but clearly not memorable enough.

Hell, did she sleep with him? He must have been the worst one night stand ever for Agatha to somehow forget him. Maybe he was so bad that she forgot about him completely...?

"I give up, I can't remember you."

He looked a bit offended. Maybe he was indeed a Calvin Klein model.

"The name's Tedros…?"

Tedros, Tedros… Tedros?

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell," she concludes, "but, I'm, hm, Agatha?"

"I know," he responds, curt and firm, nearly glaring at her.

"Neat."

"Nice."

"Good."

"Great."

"Awesome."

"Amazing."

"Extraordinary."

"Now, that's a big word," he mocks. Agatha suspects he just didn't know any bigger ones to keep up. Part of her wishes to strangle him with his own tie and part of her wants to call him out on his shit. He approached her, okay? She is under no obligation to recognize him.

Her eyes narrow and she sips on her fourth cup again.

"Do you need for me to tell you what it means?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine."

The passive-aggressive-ness of this conversation is starting to exhaust her and kill any buzz she had, but she can't just let Mr. everyone-knows-who-I-am-and-I-look-like-walking-sex win. He needed to go down (on her). What.

"Hm, Tedros, you're going to order something or what?"

Chaddick cuts the stare contest between brown and blue and Agatha makes a note to leave him a nicer tip tonight.

"What's the special of the day?" Tedros' tone is amused, as if he and Chaddick are old friends. Ugh, of course he would. He sounded douchey enough. Maybe he went to school with her? That sounded about right, she could picture it. Pretty-boy-Tedros, walking down the hall wearing a football jacket with a cheerleader or two on his arm.

"Nice little things I've put together," Chaddick wiggled his eyebrows. "Want some?"

"Is it safe?" Tedros asks him, cautiously.

"Well, Agatha here is still fine at four, I would say so."

Soon enough Tedros is downing his second cup, sitting on the stool next to hers.

.

.

.

Agatha wasn't sure how or why, but things went from point A to point B very, very quickly.

Point A being sitting beside Tedros at the bar and point B being heavily making out with him in a corner.

Agatha wishes she was joking. She wasn't. It just…somehow…happened?

Fuck.

It all started when Tedros eventually caught up to her and from there on they held a little amicable drinking competition.

("I bet you can't do more shots than me." "Oh, you're so on!" "You drink like a fourteen-year old, dude." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah.")

Then, they paid for their drinks. Well, Tedros did.

("Did you just... pay for me?" "It's called having manners." "Excuse you?")

After that, Chaddick kicked them out to the dance floor, something about the two of them 'grossing him out'. Agatha is not much of a dancer, so she tried to go back her table but Tedros said something (she can't quite remember what it was) that made her realize that she kind of didn't want to. Leave, she means.

They danced for a bit before she stepped on Tedros's foot, or maybe he stepped on hers first?

("Ouch." "Get out of my way!" "Make me.")

From there on it was incomprehensible screaming over loud music for a while and they somehow ended up being way too up in each other's personal space. Agatha eventually just lost it, and grabbed him by his collar, bringing him down to place a forceful peck on his lips, before backing away, partly horrified, partly proud.

It took two mortifyingly long seconds of silence and pure embarrassment for Tedros to grab her by the waist and kiss her roughly.

They stumbled to a more secluded corner, until Agatha's back hit a wall, but she was distracted from the pain of the impact by Tedros licking her bottom lip, seeking her tongue, a small sound escaping her once he found it. What the hell is she even doing, this should not be happening. And yet, she cannot bring herself to care.

This is a wild, passionate kiss and not at all Agatha's expertise. She always considered herself more of a slow-vanilla-soft kind of girl. But out the window with that, Tedros was nowhere near close enough, no matter that they were already flush against each other. Maybe this is why Sophie thinks every guy she meets is her soulmate. As cheesy as it sounds, she feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something.

Ha, as if.

Any thoughts, of soulmates or otherwise, are forgotten when Tedros' hands start to wander, one goes from her waist to her hip and the other moves to explore her tight, squeezing it deliciously. Agatha retaliates by pulling on his hair, not as lightly as she probably should've, but is rewarded with a husky groan and a bite on her bottom lip.

(She does it again because that might be her new favorite sound.)

What. Is. Going. On.

Her last braincells are on fire. She was on fire.

Okay, young lady, de-attach yourself from the handsome male slo…

Oh God.

She's pretty much breathless when he decides to break the kiss, her lips chasing after his for the slightest second as he pulls away. Her heartbeat has never been this loud and she has no time to overthink, as, suddenly, his lips are on her neck. Agatha lets out a quiet, but embarrassingly needy, whine (as quietly as she could, but it didn't really matter, he heard her anyway) when he nips on her ear and then trails down to suck at her pulse point. Her hands snake their way from his hair to under his shirt's collar and Tedros shivers once she drags her short nails lightly on his upper back and shoulders, but she can still feel his very attractive smug smirk against her skin.

She felt drunk. She doesn't feel like that often.

Not the completely-trashed-I-just-had-countless-drinks kind of drunk and certainly not this don't-care-keep-going-my-blood-is-on-fire kind of drunk either. Like she wanted to keep touching Tedros for the rest of her life (the idea doesn't sound half bad), as fireworks danced around them and… God, if Sophie knows this guy how she could not marry him on the spot, because fuck…

He's leaving quite a few love bites along her collarbone, teasing, attempting (and succeeding) at drawing tiny sounds from her and Agatha can't take it anymore. She drags him back up to her mouth and somehow pulls him even closer. She did not like feeling weak, but to her surprise, Tedros seemed to possess the superpower of turning her completely boneless in the best kind of way.

Wait.

Agatha is making out with Tedros.

Tedros is making out with her.

Agatha's eyes open in late realization and the two of them stare at each other for a few seconds.

So, this happened, huh?

"I… hm… have to go. Out of here. Home. Alone. Yeah, that," Agatha makes way around paralyzed Tedros, whom looks very confused and disoriented. His lips are tainted with coral lipstick, he's panting for air, his bright eyes dark with desire, clothes looking disrelished, pants looking a bit too tight, and he just looks throughfully kissed.

No, Agatha does not feel even a little tiny bit of pride by seeing him look like that because of her, what are you talking about, not sexy, not sexy at all.

… Maybe he could come along?

No. No, no, no.

She doesn't run away from him exactly, but she sure as hell wasn't walking. As she passes Hester and Anadil, the two of them raise eyebrows judgingly, but Agatha does her best to school her expression into neutrality.

If she waited a bit longer, she might have heard Tedros saying:

"Until tomorrow then."

.

.

.

Agatha regrets every single life choice that led her to this point.

She's sitting on a ridiculously shaped chair at Sophie's apartment building's terrace, brooding silently in the corner, with a big headache, while eating some diet cake that tasted like foam, listening to violin versions of bad pop songs, probably dying of heatstroke, and if that doesn't kill her soon enough, can someone please end her misery…

Hester and Anadil are not here after all. Agatha doesn't blame them. It might be for the best, because Agatha doesn't need to deal with Hester's judgy eyebrows right now. Dot is down in Sophie's apartment, at the kitchen, most likely trying to steal some wine and she is pretty much the only person here Agatha can stand.

She partly wonders if Hort will show up but decides she does not care. She's running on aspirin, her head feels like it was smashed against a wall multiple times, and it's too hot here, okay?

It's a hot sunny day and the limited shade would not be enough to cool Agatha down even if she wasn't wearing a scarf. Agatha hates this scarf. It was another one of Sophie's gifts, and Agatha hates it because it's an evil scarf that pinches her every five seconds. However it's the lightest scarf she owns, and she can't it take off.

Otherwise, someone might notice the dark mark on her neck, which her shirt could not hide, as was the case for the other ones, lower, in her collarbones.

Tedros freaking marked her. The nerve.

She's not nearly as pissed as she should be, because honestly she's kinda into it.

Taking off the scarf would lead to too much teasing and questions, she had no turtlenecks available (damn you, past-Agatha, for not doing your laundry) and if only she had the skills to cover it up with makeup. Not only was the scarf evil by itself, it made it impossible for her to not think of yesterday, therefore, making her even more irritable.

She is not the kind of person who kisses people at the club. She sure as hell wouldn't bring a guy she's just met, at the club of all places, home. What if he'd been a psycho? She doesn't know him. He'd know where she lived. She wouldn't go to his place either, that sounded even more irresponsible. But she wishes she had at least gotten his number, you know, instead of freaking out and running away. Well, he knew Chaddick, so maybe she could ask him?

No, that would be humiliating, and Agatha is trying to hang on to whatever dignity she had left.

Also, it had been almost an hour at this damned terrace party and she hasn't seen a single trace of Sophie's fiancé, but the blonde assured her he would be there soon. He's the late-type, hm.

Okay, so Agatha hates him already.

She has been to this terrace quite a few times, it was the one pro of Sophie's building, aside from cheap rent. But she was running out of both will and things to point out in small talk with all these models and small influencers. If she hears "Sophie has such a lovely terrace" one more time…

Suddenly, there was clank, signaling that someone pushed the terrace door open. As Sophie lit up and moved to greet the newcomer, Agatha felt the cake climb up her throat.

Holy hell, is that Tedros?

What is her life, really.

Agatha gets up from her chair quietly, observing the scene from behind a plant, trying not to be too obvious, just, ya know, casually chilling in the middle of the scorching sun. Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking in Agatha's general direction, pulling the handsome man behind her.

Hm, no.

Agatha resists the urge to pace in circles as she tries to gather her thoughts. It might be the hangover or the diet cake but seeing the two of them together made her wanna barf. Not because they didn't look good together. They did. In fact, maybe too good. Sophie's long soft hair was a shade or two lighter than Tedros', but other than that, they might as well have been made in the same Instagram-model-facility. Like a set, Barbie and Ken.

What is this feeling?

Oh no, she can see them approaching. Abort mission, leave, get out, hit the road…

"Aggie, darling!"

Agatha forces herself to fake a confident smile, as if she could always be found casually hanging out behind plants on saturday mornings. It turned out to be more of sheepish grin, especially when compared to her friend, whose pretty smile is almost too big for her too pretty face.

Sophie looked particularly gorgeous in her pastel green summer dress and peep-toe heels. Her tanned skin glows under the sun, the light catching in her green eyes on that special way that made photographers all around the industry want to work with her despite her inexperience, the grace within her movements creating an allure Agatha doesn't think she'd be able to recreate even if she were to be born again.

This is not good. Leave, abort mission, repeat, abort miss…

"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday," she winked. "Teddy, this is my bestie, Agatha, you remember her, right?" Sophie nudges him lightly using her elbow.

Tedros looks even better now that she can see him in natural daylight. Which should be illegal, truly. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, his hair made of pure gold looked just messy enough to not look too try-hard, yet something about him looked weirdly… staged? Agatha couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I surely do," Tedros lets go of Sophie's hand, shoulders tensing, and Agatha thinks he might be blushing. Is he nervous? "We-"

"Nice to meet you," Agatha interrupts him, grasping his hand on a firm handshake and letting go just as fast, as if touching his skin would burn her. "Sophie told me a lot about you."

Play along, please. I beg you.

"Oh, hm, it's very nice to meet you too?" Tedros responds, confused, but not calling her out. "Nice scarf," he adds, his lips curling upwards, so very slightly she might have missed if she wasn't micro-analyzing his every movement. Smug bastard. She is all too aware of his gaze lingering on her neck, a hint of pride showing in his bright eyes, the teasing in his voice making her want to pull him down by the collar, whether to choke him or to kiss him she couldn't tell.

"Oh, isn't it cute? See, Aggie, I told you that color looked great on you!" Sophie cuts in, reaching to touch said scarf. Agatha steps back self-consciously, making an effort to not scratch the back of her neck as not to call more attention to it.

"Quite the bold fashion statement for the summer, may I add," Tedros continues as he casually leaned one elbow on Sophie's shoulder. Subtle enough that Sophie wouldn't read too much into it, but Agatha could see right through his shit. "But I like it. You look very pretty, Agatha"

How dare he, truly. No sham-

Wait.

"So, I need to get going, work emergency you see, but I'll make it up to you, Sophie," Agatha excuses herself, quickly. She tells herself it's just the heat that it's bothering her, but her brain is going 300 miles per hours and she needs to leave. Now.

"Aggie, tomorrow we'll be having lunch at the country club, don't be late!"

"Yeah, be there, alright."

Agatha sprints down the complex's stairs as discreetly as she can, which is not much. By the time she's at her car, the weight of her realization hits her full force.

.

.

.

"I'm getting married, Aggie"

"Not Hort"

"You don't know him yet"

.

.

.

"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday."

.

.

.

"That was literally three weeks ago."

"I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"

.

.

.

"…Oh he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, its like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking, but it's natural, he swears, and his skin is so soft you wouldn't believe, his name is…"

"bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome"

.

.

.

"He's so different from anyone I've ever met…"

"She feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something."

.

.

.

"Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is!"

"He looked a bit offended."

"The name's Tedros?"

.

.

.

"God, if Sophie knows this guy how could she not marry him on the spot…"

"Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking, pulling the handsome man behind her."

.

.

.

Agatha is a very bad friend, isn't she?

She bangs her head on the wheel.

Then, she regrets doing so, opening the car's door, so she could vomit some diet cake and last night's alcohol on the parking lot's floor before driving away.

.

.

.

By a miracle, Agatha survives the drive home and makes it back home in one piece.

As she walks into her own apartment, she does not feel half as guilty as she thought she would be. But she was very, very angry. Furious, actually.

At herself for being both a dumbass and a bad friend, at Tedros for being a player, at Chaddick for being a dick in general, at Sophie for being Sophie, at Dot for not warning her and even at Hester for not being at the party today so Agatha could at least not freak out by herself.

She can't do anything for the rest of the day, because trying to work, read or sleep is useless, since she can't focus with all the internal screeching her mind is doing. Her existence now doesn't make any sense and Agatha is about to tear her hair out, lying down in her bed, staring at the celling.

(There's a long crack on there and for whatever reason, it reminded her of a river. Probably because it didn't look like anything else.)

She contemplates calling Hester and telling her everything but ultimately decides against it. She can't bring herself to explain this out loud, least of all hear any possible lecture Hester might give her. Is this how Sophie feels when she decides hide things from her-

Oh my God, Sophie.

Tedros was engaged. To Sophie. He was Sophie's fiancé.

Agatha is not freaking out at all.

.

.

.

At last, ten long hours of sulking later, Agatha is feeling a lot guiltier, still very much pissed and just confused as a whole.

She made out with Sophie's fiancé. Should she tell her? Yes. Would she? To be decided.

Maybe they wouldn't even get married. Come on, a few weeks? There's no way Sophie will keep up this insanity. Telling her about the club incident would only hurt their life-long friendship over a guy who wasn't even gonna last two months. Years of companionship out the window. She had no intention of doing it again so, did it really matter? What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right?

She hadn't even known he was Sophie's fiancé!

But then again, Sophie had told her all about him. She didn't listen because she was a bad friend! Was she really gonna play the "I didn't know" card...?

It was the truth!

But no one would believe her. Fuck, if Agatha were Sophie, she wouldn't believe herself. Agatha was a smart grown woman, godamn it. What kind of dumb bitch even-

This wedding wasn't happening. No need to worry, right?

For now, Agatha has two long weeks of supposedly weeding-related bonding moments with Sophie to survive, without accidentally letting slip that, oh, talked, drank, danced and made out with Tedros.

Well, shit.

.

.

.

Even if one ignored the fact that the guilt was starting to eat Agatha alive from inside out, the next day would still have been a long, tortured journey of nothing but cringe and regrets. Yet she bore it, because she, even if accidentally, brought this on herself.

Agatha got up early on a sunday (name a bigger crime) to try and get something done, since she would probably have little time to work in the following weeks. Then, she went to have lunch with Sophie at a fancy country club (that Sophie couldn't afford by the way, which earned her a lecture on credit cards and personal finances) hoping to have that "red-flag" talk.

It did not go well.

Sophie had invited him along. Of course, she would. Apparently, since she was getting married soon, Agatha should be used to have him around. And, of course, Sophie would have decided to tell her he was coming the moment he walked in, headed to their table.

This is Sophie's fiancé. Do. Not. Stare.

What kind of cosmic karma is this? He isn't even her type.

WHY-

"Afternoon, ladies."

Sophie greeted the blonde with a smile and a hug, as Agatha merely nodded his way, scanning the room for the closest exit.

"Hi Teddy!"

"Tedros."

Lunch is awkward as hell and at this point Agatha is just waiting for a waiter to come and stab her. It ends up being both not so terrible and the worst lunch ever because she does talk quite a lot with Tedros, against her better judgment.

She learns that Tedros did go to her school, for three years. Sophie asks him if he remembers Agatha, and from Tedros' silence, Agatha assumes he doesn't want to admit to having been part of Chaddick's... shenanigans.

Her friend then talks astrology, and Agatha learns that he is a leo (because of course he would), is kinda proud of it but says he doesn't believe in astrology, prompting Sophie to start a discussion on why he wouldn't believe in astrology if he believed in tarot. The way he blushes and stammers is cute and makes Agatha feel horrible for thinking so, but she asks him about tarot anyway. She's just being polite, okay?

He mentions he'd turned 26 a while ago and recently moved back to the city, as he moved away to go to college in Avalon. She tells him she almost went there, but her scholarship did not include a dormroom and she knew no one there to share an apartment with. His answer is a blunt "I know", which both confuses and pisses her off.

Tedros offers her no further info on it, but they engage in conversation again after he mentions he is working at Camelot International.

("As one of the main executives on the board," Sophie adds, "it's one of the most powerful companies in the country.")

They quickly bond over their massive workloads (Agatha may not be a main executive of a huge corporate empire, but damn if being head finance director for SGE Enterprises didn't keep her busy enough), until Sophie slips that he must be very lucky to be the sole heir to the Pendragon Group.

Oh.

Tedros Pendragon. Are you kidding? Agatha remembers seeing his family's name being all over the news back in school and she feels dumb for not remembering that Tedros and 'that Pendragon boy' were the same person. Hadn't his parents had a huge cheating-divorce-scandal that caused the stock for the company to plummet a few years ago?

Tedros frowns at Sophie before saying that, "Yes, indeed, he's very lucky."

The blonde doesn't seem to notice the way his hands grip the fork tightly as he pronounces the last word, but Agatha does.

It adds on to the list of things that keep her awake later, after she does her damn laundry and stress-cleans her entire apartment. She curses as she turns and tosses on her bed, because it's 2 AM, work starts in a few hours and she needs to sleep.

.

.

.

The next four days are not much different, the routine is pretty much the same, except they have dinner plans instead of lunch. Work, eat, work, do bridesmaid shit with Sophie and Tedros somewhere, avoid his gaze, talk for a bit over something like choosing the best flower arrangements, and then hightail out of there, only to come home and be restless.

She was still very confused, because honestly, Tedros didn't seem bad at all. The more she talked to him, the least she wanted to stop talking to him. He definitely had some family issues and was doing some overcompensating, but nothing that made him, like, a total trash human.

And yet, he was still the guy who hit on her (fucking made out with her), knowing exactly who she was, while being engaged to her best friend.

She always thought herself a good judge of character.

Anyway, she did her best to act aloofly polite and if he ever seemed to hint at the night at The Woods, Agatha cut him off before he could. It was a good plan. Wait it out. And it really was working just fine.

Until the dress store.

For some reason she cannot wrap her head around, Tedros is there too.

(Isn't there a tradition against seeing the dress of your bride before the wedding or something?)

At some point, Sophie struggles to get into a particularly complicated dress at the dressing room, yelling at the poor employees like a harpy on a rampage and Agatha is about to intervene when he manages to pull her aside, his grip firm but with a certain gentleness that made her skin burn.

He semi-drags her across the store through a sea of sparkly white dresses and into this small nook between sections. Agatha does not want to admit that the main reason why he is able to do that is because she allows him to.

Things only go downhill from there.

He has her cornered, her back nearly merging with the wall as he stands close to her, his posture tense, moving slowly, like one would in presence of a startled animal. He doesn't look like he is trying to purposely intimidate her, and she doesn't feel particularly unsafe. No words are spoken between them and the silence allows Agatha's senses to pick up on a deliciously rich smell. Is that Tedros' cologne-

Agatha forces down the rash that is creeping up her neck and tries to focus on doing what she does best, aka, running away from her problems. She looks anywhere but his face, but he is not making ignoring him an easy job.

"I don't get you."

What.

"Excuse me?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Agatha scoffs, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"I truly don't."

Her response seems to annoy him, which she counts as a win, but Agatha might have declared victory just a bit too soon. Tedros, who was a couple of feet away has managed to get way too close (yet again). His hand raises her chin and forces her to look into his eyes. Her resolution to run away falters and she's scared he might hear her heartbeat speed up.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Agatha. One second you don't like me, then you do like me, then you don't again… I don't understand the game you're playing here… So, I'll make this simple, you won, congratulations, now stop playing games, now you know I'm interested."

Agatha blinks. This is… not the conversation she thought she was going to have.

Of course, during her nightly overthinking sessions she thought about what she'd say if he confronted her about the previous friday, even if she didn't think he'd have the balls to actually do it. But she seems to have been reduced to this dumpster fire nonsense. Tedros never did what she thought he was going to do and it was short-circuiting her braincells.

She's way too aware of the hold he has on her, the compromising situation they're in. One of his hands cages Agatha in, placed on the wall behind her head, while the other keeps her from adverting her gaze from his. Tedros is too close, he smells too good and his mouth looks too inviting.

She hears him, but she doesn't really hear him, his presence fogging up her senses.

Agatha briefly entertains the idea of giving into temptation and kissing him. How nice it would be to grab his collar, invert their positions, slam him against the wall and kiss him senseless, so he could feel just how helpless she felt having him corner her like this. Kiss him and just leave him there, wanting, begging, and…

What. Wow, fuck. Stop.

A new thought hits her like a ton bricks.

This guy is an asshole.

Tedros looks irritated and Agatha wants to punch him.

So she does.

She's strong enough to give him a black eye, but she (unintentionally, Agatha swears) holds backs and aims for his chest. However, she can tell it hurt a lot by the way his eyes water and he backs away several steps. She hears Sophie yelling their names across the store and giving Tedros one last glare, she turns around and walks away.

The nerve.

Why would anyone marry him?

Sophie needed a wakeup call. And fast. Because while Sophie could be a nightmare, she did not deserve to be played like that.

.

.

.

Agatha was not a superstitious person.

If she forgot her umbrella at home and it started raining when she left the dress shop (Tedros and Sophie both offered her a ride but she would rather choke, honestly, and said no, forgetting that she rode here with Sophie in the first place), it's not fate, it's bad luck. If she gets sick and loses her voice (and therefore can't go do neither her work or her bridesmaid duty), it's not conspiracy, it's simply a coincidence.

Well, call it fate, call it bad luck, call it conspiracy, call it coincidence. The case is that Agatha has lost her voice and has both a running nose and a fever. She considers texting the whole story to Sophie but changes her mind when she imagines the blonde woman's reaction.

Agatha, you're such a slut.

She is going to tell Sophie about this… this… this individual. Yeah, she was going to come clean and expose Tedros. No wedding.

Why was Tedros marrying Sophie anyway? She could understand why Sophie would go for Tedros. He did seem like her type. Young, rich, successful and handsome.

(Not really what she herself looked for. Agatha tended to go for witty, responsible people and who did not mind her blunt nature. Never in the history of ever, had Sophie and Agatha been interested on the same person.)

Anyway, he would give her lots of exposure, would look great on her Instagram feed, would be able to save her from her terrible apartment, student loan and infinite credit card debt, and would open up the world of fancy designer shoes and pretty gowns Sophie always dreamed of.

But why would he do that?

Tedros was, again, young, rich, successful and handsome. He hardly expressed any special affection towards Sophie or had the usual lovesick look most of Sophie's victims sported when they found themselves bewitched by her. They didn't really agree on much, from what Agatha gathered on their conversations, had no shared interests, lived completely different lifestyles, had different moral values and overall didn't seem to have the grandiose connection Sophie spoke of at all. Maybe he was with her because she was pretty? But again, why. There werw thousands of pretty girls willing to date young rich men, why Sophie in particular?

Something about this seemed off. She needs to talk to Sophie.

…When she recovered.

.

.

.

Alright, maybe it was conspiracy. The wedding was in two days.

Two days.

She supposes time does go by quickly when you're procrastinating something you really, really don't want to do. Nearly two weeks gone by in a flash. And, as she should, Agatha finally gets herself together. She is going to tell Sophie.

Well, she was going to tell Sophie. The blonde and a few of her friends were at The Woods for a last girl's night out. Meaning:

Sophie was currently drunk.

But maybe she wasn't?

She probably was though. Sophie was the most lightweight person Agatha knew, likely because she was so skinny. Girl could not hold her alcohol and drunk-Sophie was messy-Sophie. Unwilling, untamable and unimaginably difficult to have a coherent conversation with.

But, maybe she wasn't drunk? Agatha was not going to risk it.

She forces herself to hurry. She doesn't change out of her work outfit (merely discarding the suit's jacket), stopping by her house to feed Reaper and leave some important documents. Agatha even nearly forgets to lock her front door, calling a car to the club, hoping it might not be too late to come clean. But she was late anyway, as proven not only by the 15 bucks that left her wallet (for the second time this month) but by-

"Aggieeeee! You're better! Have you taaaasted this? It's amaziiiing!"

Agatha glares at Chaddick, who has the decency to look away. He knew the amount of alcohol Sophie was capable of processing, namely: none.

"Yeah, I have…"

"You should have seen, Sophie; the other night Agatha was so wasted she ma…"

"Chaddick, don't you have somewhere to be? As in, not here?"

The ex-jock walks away with a smirk, knowing he had some nice blackmailing material on her. Could this get any more horrible?

Now what? Should she just take Sophie home? Sober her up, tell her everything then beg for forgiveness? She couldn't. Then what to do, what to do…

"Sophie, I have to tell you something, it's really important, you see…"

"Oh Aggie, I'm sure you can tell me laaaaaatteerrrr! I've been so stressed lately! Time to let it goooo! Come on, I'll even pay your first drinkkkk!"

Her friend lifted a glass of what looked and smelled like a vodka and gin disaster waiting to happen.

"Sophie, what is even that?"

"Not sure…but Chaddick told me it was good."

Agatha sighs. She should tell the truth, right here, right now, shouldn't she?

"… Alright."

And she would have if she were a better person. But to her shame, she downs five more after the first and suddenly she can't remember why she came here on the first place. Something about a guy?

(Lies, Agatha knows exactly what she is doing, but for a few more hours she gives herself the benefit of the doubt.)

Whatever, she'll just deal with it later. She hasn't said anything for the past few days, surely it can wait some more, right?

.

.

.

Said and done, five hours later Agatha concludes she is a horrible human being. She should just quit. Leave the job of human being for people who will not mess up. Like Hester. Hester never messes up shit. Yeah, great plan.

Sophie is knocked out cold, sleeping with her face in a table, drooling, besides said Hester, who has her usual judgy face on, glaring at the blonde woman, like she was some kind of disgusting creature.

Agatha doesn't think she could feel worse.

She should have just told Sophie the truth right away. The moment she found out Tedros was, well, Tedros. Instead she had gone along with a wedding that was sure to be a fiasco, because not only was the groom a liar and a player, but Agatha was therefore his accomplice, and her silence was probably the greatest betrayal of their entire friendship.

She picks up her phone to call a car, so she could at the very least wallow in misery at home, but before the app even loads someone snatches her phone.

Turns out she can indeed feel worse.

"We need to talk."

His voice sounds as it always does whenever she's around, half-annoyed and half-something else Agatha doesn't dare name. As usual, he looks nice. His tight shirt and tie are still in perfect place, unlike the last time she saw him here, signaling he too probably came straight from work.

"This is girl's night; you're not allowed here."

"Oh, I'm not?" Tedros mocks her, but she can tell his heart isn't truly in it. "Then please do tell me the circumstances in which I can talk to you, because you sure don't make it easy."

She is so tired. Trying to avoid him is hard enough, trying to avoid him knowing that she doesn't really want to is impossible. She has always read people so well, and he always seems so genuine. It makes her wanna believe he is not the bad person she knows he is.

"…I've been… avoiding you. It's not that I don't want to talk to you. Is just… that I shouldn't," she hesitates but ends up answering honestly.

Tedros' expression softens at her candor, peering at her with concern.

"Are you drunk?"

"No. Maybe."

He sighs, then digs his car keys from his pocket, still holding her phone hostage on his other hand.

"Look, I'll give you a ride home. I really just wanna talk. We have…unfinished business."

Agatha considers. All this wedding-baloney made her poor, Tedros is so pretty, he looks so wholesome and honest, and she just wants to sulk at home for the next few hours. Maybe he could stay for a day or two. That shirt of his would look great on her floor…

No, bad idea.

"I don't wanna get into a stranger's car," she blurts out the first excuse her mind can manage. In retrospect, that was some obvious bullshit, seeing as they had talked for hours last week and he had already given her a ride before. Granted, it had been Sophie's car and Sophie had been there, but still, that didn't make much sense.

"Oh truly?" he holds up her phone, the ride app now open, "You're gonna pull that one on me?"

It's Agatha's turn to sigh.

"Okay don't go using logic on me, mister. For all I know, you could be planning on kidnapping me and selling my organs on the black market," or worse, actually talking to her.

"Can never be too careful, can we?" he looks partly amused and partly annoyed. "Look, I'm serious here, okay? I'm not going to do anything to you, we can talk to Hester on our way out, I'm sure she'll hunt me and string me up upside down at her soundproofed basement in case I even dream of harming you. Alright?" Tedros's eyes never leave her face in the twenty seconds she takes to decide, and it's really distracting, but she manages to answer:

"Okay, fine."

They talk to Hester, rather, Tedros talks to Hester while Agatha avoids her gaze shamefully. Why does Tedros know Hester? Did they ever talk during school?

Agatha doesn't know and she doesn't ask. Her gaze lingers on Sophie's drooling face and she feels her chest tighten.

The two of them walk into the parking lot awkwardly, in mortifying silence, and enter a silver Porsche. Agatha notes that it looks very out of place, since most cars belonged to employees and looked rather humble next to the silver beauty. Why was Tedros here? He came in his car, so he was not here to drink. Did Sophie tell him to pick her up? Or was he here to see Agatha?

Her heart skips at beat at the thought and she doesn't ask him any of this either.

"Nice ride," she offers instead.

"Thanks."

Tedros drives in silence, with Agatha occasionally telling him to turn on certain streets. She keeps her gaze on the empty roads, but she does catch quite a stunning sight of his profile when she forgets she's not supposed to look at him at all.

To avoid getting too in her head, she decides to turn on the radio. The song that starts playing is familiar and she guesses the radio must be on CD mode. The letters in bold red on the visor tell her she is correct, and this is indeed the song she thinks it is.

"You're into this kind of stuff?"

Tedros grips the wheel, almost defensively.

"They're really good, okay? I've been listening to them for a few years and so far, they're my favorite band. I know their sound isn't for everyone and-"

"I know."

"…It's not what most mainstream artists are doi- you what?"

Agatha blushes when she feels his incredulous gaze on her face, and it occurs her that this is the first time he looks directly at her since they got into his car. She hopes he'll attribute the redness on her cheeks to the red light they're currently stuck at and hesitates before answering, in a quiet voice, meeting his stare:

"They're my favorite band too."

"Oh."

The rest of the drive is less awkward, one would even say comfortable if not for the leftover tension. They sing along quietly to the vocalist and Agatha is sure Tedros stopped himself from doing the guitar once. Not cute, not cute, not cute.

Eventually, they get to her apartment building. She reaches over and turns off the radio, the deafening silence almost too much to bear.

Agatha tries reaching for the car door, but it's locked.

"I did tell you we needed to talk."

Usually, she'd be scared if a guy trapped her in his car in the middle of the night, but Agatha's frustration just comes back at full force and topples over anything else.

"What's to talk, you're clearly into someone else."

Tedros' eyes go big, and Agatha can't help but think he must be the world's greatest actor. Oscar nomination performance. The academy is shook-

"What? Did you, like, not hear anything I sa-"

"I'm not that kind of girl, Tedros," Agatha interrupts him firmly, "I don't hook up with anyone who's in a relationship, especially in a relationship with my best friend, no matter how stupidly short said relationship may be."

"I… Did Sophie tell you-"

"She didn't need to? You guys are engaged, and I am not going to get caught in between, okay? Please, please leave me alone. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't give me rides when I'm drunk."

Suddenly, Tedros' confused expression is gone and his eyes are gleaming with what looks like joy. He looks like he might kiss her and Agatha is not sure how well her defenses will hold in case he does.

"Agatha, I think you got this all wrong, I'm not-"

"What, you have amnesia? Or, let me guess, it's your twin brother who's engaged to her?"

Tedros burst out laughing and he sounds like an angel, throwing his head back, and Agatha forgets for a second that she's mad at him. But eventually reality brings her back and she pushes him, with just enough force to get his attention.

"Leave me the fuck alone, dude."

…Asshole.

This time when she reaches for the door, it's unlocked.

She glares at him from the sidewalk one more time, before entering the building.

.

.

.

Agatha doesn't hear a word from him after that.

It's for the best, she tells herself. Agatha spent so much time wishing he would just go away and take these weird feelings he gives her with him that she didn't even consider that once he did go away for real, new, stronger, and even more angsty feelings would appear. She only knew him for two weeks. He wasn't even hers. She has no grieving rights.

She goes out with Sophie one more time, and now it's just the two of them. It would be the perfect time to tell her. She has no excuses. No drinking, no sickness, no Tedros-

Agatha doesn't.

.

.

.

Today is the day.

It's a clear summer night, which is unfair with how angsty and conflicted Agatha feels. Hollywood lied to us all, hasn't it?

Agatha is dressed in a silky blue dress Sophie chose for her. It suits her and she thinks she looks quite pretty. Someone who actually knew what they were doing did her make-up, and for once she managed to tame her hair into submission, putting it into a fancy-looking up-do youtube taught her how to do. She's wearing her best shoes and her fanciest earrings. Agatha is looking and smelling like a daydream outside the main room of the church, but her hands are shaking and she's terrified.

She's not ready. Far from it really.

The rules were simple. If you're not the bride you don't wear white, you don't overdrink, and you never, ever, under any circumstances, fall in love with the groom.

No matter if they were hot, if they smelled good, if their eyes made you feel weak at the knees, if they shared common interests with you, if their taste was impossible to forget, if they went out of their way to get your attention or if they felt like they just might be the one.

You just didn't okay?

Shit, this was messed up. Still, Agatha brought herself to breathe deeply, trying to contain her anxiety.

The ceremonialist tells her it's her cue and she's soon walking down the aisle, clutching a small bouquet of pink carnations like a lifeline, looking around the church.

The place is crowded. Their entire social circle and their grandmother seem to be here. People from their childhood neighborhood, people from school, both of Sophie's parents, her stepmother and step siblings, quite a few models and influencers and a bunch of people she had never seen, probably Tedros' friends, family and co-workers.

The flowers and decorations look as amazing and beautiful as she would have expected from Sophie and she might have seen Hester, Anadil and Dot on a row somewhere, but that's not what made her almost freeze, nearly stumbling on the red carpet.

The groom.

He's wearing an expensive-looking white tuxedo, his hair is an unnatural platinum blonde and his eyes are disturbingly intense. He's tall, sharp and everything about him screams fancy. He's attractive in the way some snakes are attractive, beautiful and deadly, but the big deal is:

Agatha has never seen that man in her entire life.

She goes to her spot standing by the side, her brain running a marathon, tons of data just being tossed aimlessly on her mind as she tries to wrap her head around what the actual fuck is going on when her eyes meet someone else's.

Seating on the third row on the left, Tedros' blue eyes are shinning in complete and absolute amusement, his hand is over his mouth in a barely controlled laugh. The music seems to be on his side, because no one hears him. Agatha schools her expression into anything other than the overbearing wrath she feels, but she's not sure if she's doing a good job.

She's somewhat aware of the chaos that seems to be unfolding around her; the ceremonialist's screeching, the groom's rage, the crowd's confused mumbling and Sophie's absence. But it does not matter.

Agatha really wants to choke Tedros with his tie.

.

.

.

Turns out, Sophie's groom was named Rafal. Not that Agatha would remember his name a few days from now.

He is the current CEO of Two Brothers, a huge company, often associated with the mafia for fucks sake. Known playboy and womanizer, with a criminal record for drug dealing, as well as physical and sexual assault. Also, partially involved on the illegal leaks of information that caused the media scandal around Tedros' parents' divorce all those years ago, she later learns.

Great guy, Sophie. 10/10. Husband material right there.

At least she didn't follow through, Agatha argues to try and calm herself down. Oh yeah, Sophie ran away from her own wedding. No one was surprised honestly. Maybe Rafal. He looked very, very angry. Agatha didn't really blame him, after knowing that he was the one paying for the wedding, after party and honeymoon, no matter how horrible of a person he seems to be.

By now, Sophie should be in Paris, enjoying her honeymoon tickets and reservations. Through text, she tells Agatha how lonely and sad she is and how she'll tell her everything that happened in complete details on their next café meeting in a about month and a half. Agatha suspects she is not as lonely as she claims to be because Hort's Instagram stories tell her he is currently in Europe as well, if not in Paris. But then again, she will not concern herself over this matter. "No wedding" was good news enough to keep her in a great mood for any of Sophie's shenanigans for the next following weeks.

And since the reception was already paid for, everyone just decided to come enjoy it.

Yes, when she says everyone, she means everyone.

"Hey, you."

Oh, Lord, no.

Agatha doesn't lift her head to look at him, continuing to type a half-assed reply to Sophie's whiny texts. She won't give him the satisfaction. Instead she downs whatever is left of her whisky, because that's what one does when courage lacks.

She's sitting at the main table of the ballroom, by herself, mostly because it's where she's been assigned to sit, but also because she's not up for the questions the other guests will probably feel entitled to ask if she were to sit with them. Hester is nowhere in sight, but Agatha is sure she's making herself scarce on purpose. She saw Chaddick back at the church but they politely ignored each other and Dot had been missing for quite a while.

"Not speaking to me?"

"No."

"Come on, it was pretty funny."

"No, it wasn't," she finally looks up at him and he must have sensed true resentment in her perfectly lined brown eyes, because his smug, perfect façade crumbled, and he looked very awkward suddenly. Tedros pulls up the chair beside her and she notices it has his name on it. Sophie was not being subtle on her matchmaking at all, was she?

God, Agatha was so dumb.

"Well, it wasn't very funny to me either then, but I do laugh quite a bit now," he offers, sipping on champagne, trying to keep busy.

"I'm glad my pain amuses you," she's quiet for few seconds, considering what she's going to say. "Tedros?"

"Yeah?" he looks up from his flute of champagne, hopeful blue eyes shining in the half light of the candlelit ballroom and keeping her from saying what she was actually going to say, so instead she blurts:

"I'm not sorry for punching you."

"I didn't expect you to be," his smile is friendly and contagious. He downs the last of his champagne and extends a hand to her. "Okay, let's start again. I'm Tedros, I'm so single it hurts, and when we were in high school, I had a crush on you."

The way he says this so openly, his voice so even and clear nearly drowns out the vulnerable look on his face. Agatha herself can barely register his expression because she's pretty sure her brain has short-circuited. Again.

"No, you did not."

"But I did."

Tedros proceeds to tell her all sorts of things.

He tells her about how he first saw her as a rival because of her grades (she never really paid any attention to the scoreboard, she thought it was bullshit, but in retrospect she does remembers his name was always under hers), and about how sorry he was that he laughed and partook at Chaddick's antics during junior year, mostly because he the felt like 'the new guy with a big name and no friends' and felt she was a threat.

"That's some real introspection and self-awareness right there, hm"

"I'm just fortunate enough to have had a really good therapist," Tedros responds, "Merlin is like a psychology-wizard. He was the one who kinda sorted out that maybe part of my teen angst was repressed attraction to someone who fed the cats behind the library"

"Oh, then you've been my stalker for quite some time then."

Tedros blushes and Agatha is both flattered and embarrassed at the same time.

He then explains about how shit blew up on his face during his parents' divorce, how his grades dropped, how he got kicked out of the football team and how he started to spend a long ass time sulking at the library. Which just so happened to be Agatha's favorite hangout spot at the time. Tedros tells her how he thought she was cute, how she was one of the people who hadn't changed with him (even if unintentionally) and how he wanted to get to know her.

What.

"I just… wasn't sure how to approach you? I always dragged Chaddick to your tea shop when I didn't see you at the library but then chickened out and-"

"...I take neither of you were huge tea fans?"

"Yeah?"

"That does explain a lot," Agatha mumbles.

"I was going to talk to you about Avalon when I heard you were going there, but… Since you didn't tell me that, I kinda found out when Chaddick took your math notebook to be my 'wingman', I didn't think you would have…appreciated.

"Wait, that was Chaddick playing your wingman?" Agatha burst out laughing.

"The plan was that I was supposed to casually hand back to you something you forgot, but he kinda grew tired of waiting for you to actually forget something," Tedros chuckled. "If you thought Chaddick was bad then what big word is Miss-best-in-class going to use to describe Sophie's take on playing wingwoman?"

"Horrendous," Agatha deadpans and now it's Tedros turn to laugh.

Silence sits between the two. It's not uncomfortable and kinda welcome. Agatha digests the last forty minutes of enlighting conversation as they eat the main course of the night. A waiter comes to pick up both of their plates and she decides she still has some questions.

"Well, do you still do?"

"Do I still what?" Tedros questions, his head slightly inclined, like a confused puppy.

"Have a crush on me," Agatha mumbles, her cheeks burning.

Tedros' expression goes from 'confused' back to that mischievous look he had back at the church, leaning towards her ever so slightly.

"Maybe."

"Good," she offers her hand, as he had before, "I'm Agatha, I jump to conclusions, but I am very interested in getting to know you."

Tedros however, doesn't shake her hand as she had his. Instead, he takes it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles, relishing in the shocked look on her face before she can school her expression back to unaffected aloofness.

"Are you free at six next friday?"

"Late meeting, but I'm good at seven. Pick me up?" she asks, an unspoken challenge laced in her words.

"As the lady wishes." Challenge accepted. "Any preferences?"

"Anywhere but 'The Woods'. But make sure to text me first if it's somewhere fancy," she smiles. "You know what? I still don't have your number."

Tedros confidently stands up, his hand yet to release hers.

"A number for a dance?"

Agatha told him that night at 'The Woods' that she isn't a very good dancer but again, he insists. It's fine, because they don't dance for long anyway. By the time Tedros gives up, fumbling with his phone to call a car, his hair is already a mess, Agatha's broke free from her up-do and there is lipstick everywhere.

I'm not sorry This was so much fun to revisit. I forgot how fun SGE was. I kinda fell out of touch with the series. I did read QFG, I just can't remember what happens in it? Idk. I felt the series should have concluded on TLEA. If possible before the whole Agatha and Sophie baloney stunt, because I never bought that. Please leave me comment and share your thoughts with me! Hope you are all safe during this quarantine, friends

[cherrysweather]

Claudeleth Week, Day 2: Modern/School

[Pairing: Claude von Riegan x F!Byleth]

[Genre: Fluff, Sfw]

“By! Byleth!” The girl turned her as she heard a voice calling her from outside the window

“Claude! What are you doing on that tree?” She tried to keep her voice down as she climbed the chest under the window to see his friend better

“I found a very interesting book at the school library and I wanted to show it to you! Come with me!” He came near the end of the branch that held his tiny body, extending his hand towards her

“I-I don’t know how to stay on a branch Claude” She watched him and then the ground below them

“I’ll help you! I won’t let you fall, come on!” He squeezed both her tiny hands when she sat on the edge of the window, pulling her to his body and hold her tight as she laid her feet on the branch “Come! It’s something unbelievable!”

He helped the girl to come down from the tree but kept one of her hands in his, pulling her to their secret place in the small wood near the girl’s house

“Look! It’s a history book from I don’t know what century that talks about princesses and princes, wars, wyverns and more! It also has a lot of images!” He gave her that yellow paged, ruined and dusty book, showing her everything that got his eyes before “It said that in the past, Fòdlan was split into three big territories: the Holy Kingdom of Fareghus, guided by the Blaiddyd family; The Adrestian Empire, guided by the Hresvelg family and then the Leicester Alliance, guided by the Riegan family, they had my same last name!”

“Maybe you descend from them? This is so beautiful..” her eyes were shining from all they were seeing, trying to read what she could “Do you think that if we keep it, they’ll notice at school?” she looked at him in the eyes, smiling in the way that Claude did when he proposes his fantastic ideas to get into trouble

“Oh, well, if they ask’bout it, we’ll just run and give it back to the library, what do you say?”

“It’s ok for me!” She hugged the book and opened again once she was beside him, resting one extreme on his thighs and the other on his to see the book together.

-

“Claude, you’re still on that book?” Byleth said, passing her fingers in the boy’s head who was resting on her lap

“Yes! Do you remember the other two families who guided Fòdlan apart the Riegan? In this middle school, there are a boy and a girl who have the same last names as them! A lot of names who are in the book are also in this school! Fraldarius, Gautier, Vestra, Aegir and many many others! This can’t be a coincidence right?” he turned his face towards her that was checking something on her phone

“Well, it is strange, yes, but I think that it’s just a coincidence, or maybe you all descend from these people”

“I have to find more ancient books to understand the picture; I still have to find someone named Eisner you know!” he laughed taking the phone from the girl’s hands, starting then to touch her cheeks

“What would you like to find?” she moved her gaze on her boy’s beautiful, green eyes

“I don’t know, maybe you were some kind of goddess in your previous life” he took her soft and tiny hand on his cheek, cuddling it with his thumbs

“Yeah, goddess of patience if already knew you” She hit him in the forehead as she got up from the ground “Come on, class is about to begin”

“Okok senpai or whatever” he followed her back in their classroom, keeping the book in his arms as some of their new friends added themselves to the duo.

--

Byleth was studying for her last test with her books on the window and the moonlight as her lamp, noticing in every page a tiny sketch of what Claude called “Crests”, some symbols he found on that book he kept with him since childhood and that was still with him in high school.

“Byleth!” the sudden call of her name and a figure that appeared right out of her window, trying to climb it, made the girl jump and fall from the chest where she was sitting

“For fuck’s sake, Claude!” She touched the areas that had hit the ground and barely held back from screaming at that boy

“Good evening beautiful” he hung from the window and watched her from there “Can I come in?”

“No you can’t!” she growled at him and got up “What do you want?” she said while sighing and sitting back on the chest

“I finally found it; your name! In the book!”

“........” She stared at him in silence, and nearly closed the window in his face

“Say something! I had to tell you what you were in the past!” He tried to make her smile again “..Sorry, I thought coming to visit would ease your anxiety for tomorrow” he looked mortified for what he did “So, I’ll just go bac-”

“What did you find?” She said, not being able to do anything to further hide her curiosity

“Do you care? Come with me then” he happily said seeing a tiny smile again on her lips

“You really can’t say it now?” She had to follow him out the window when he disappeared from the edge of it

“You can jump; I’ll catch you” She tried to get close to the ground by hanging herself at the edge of the window before leaving the grip and be caught by Claude

“You’re heavyy..” He laughed as she hit his back before being dragged to what remained of their secret place in the wood

“Does this place still exist?” She sat on the soft weed and invited Claude next to her

“Hear this: there was this girl named exactly like you who was a professor at the monastery where all the people with the same last names as our classmates studied and lived for a year; it is said that she helped the head of House Riegan to bring peace in Fòdlan and unify every state into one peaceful continent”

“Oh wow, so I was your Robin and you were my Batman? Something like that?” she took his hand and watched the book as Claude indicated the lines he was summarizing

“Yeah but, at the end of the war, the two of them got married and lived together until their last days; I found this tiny painting on this piece of paper representing the two on their wedding, look” he gave her the ruined painting, a lot of details have been eliminated by the time, but their happy faces were still there

“They... look a lot like us” he searched a comparison between the image and what she had in front of her, blushing just by thinking of her and his Claude during their possible future wedding

“ So? When are we gonna marry like them?” as she hid her face in his neck, he blushed too, resting one hand on her back to hug her “The first time I showed you this book we were just two kids no higher than a metre and a mentos, but here we are, same place, same people, maybe a little bit higher than before but still. It seems like this book tied our fates”

“Yes... we should rewrite all of this in a new book before this one consumes completely” she still watched that picture, searching in every angle details or other people “You know.... this Claude is reeeally hot; I might be more in love with him than with you” she poked his cheek smiling innocently

“.....EXcuSe ME?” he became red from jealously, taking back the picture and throw it away with the book before attacking her, laying her on the ground and keeping her wrists in his hands “Did you say something?”

“M-Maybe yes orrr, maybe not?” the blush on her face got brighter and brighter as he came near her neck with his lips

“You sure?” he started to tease her skin by licking it and squeezing some parts with his lips

“I-In facts I said that I have to go study f-for tomorrow!” She barely got out of his grip, trying to get back to her window, but Claude literally bumped into her and threw her on the ground again, this time with her belly toward the ground and his body on her back

“Uh-uh. Weren’t we talking about marriage? And didn’t you just dare tell me right to my face that you prefer another man to me, probably dead for 100 years? Such a pervert, poor dead man...”

“CLAUDE!”

----------------

LISTEN FOR A SEC

I just saw that one of my FE favorite artist that I followed on Twitter has also tumblr anD SHE JUST LIKED MY PREVIOUS POST I’M- so happy ;^;

So, thank her because I was close to giving up for this week but magically I got the desire to write this shit back ;D

[She’s /tatabanchou , go follow her on both twitter and tumblr (don’t be like me that I didn’t know she had a tumblr account ;-;) because she deserves it uwu]

[wallsinner]

Training Wheels | 1 | Jean x F!Reader

Title: Training Wheels Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x Female Reader Warnings: Swearing, Discussions of Virginity, Eventual Smut, Chapter Summary: Your friend Jean has a lot to complain about. Words: 2k Notes: I first started writing this in 2016(!!) and you can find this first chapter in it's first draft on ao3 if you're that way inclined, but I rewrote it, replanned it and I'm *so* excited to be rewriting it. The first chapter of Tear in my Heart -- aka the story from Jean's POV -- will be up on Monday at around 10PM GMT.

If there is one mystery you want solved, one question you want answered, it was why are you genetically predisposed to being the laziest of assholes. You’ve been so since you were a kid and personally, you blame your father because it’s a habit you’ve picked up from him at the very least. And you always suffer for it.

Like, right now, you are suffering because you’re more than well aware that if you’d gotten out of your pit of a bed when your alarm had rung this morning, then you would have had plenty of time to get your butt into the kitchen and produce yourself a tasty sandwich -- or maybe even a salad -- from what you’ve salvaged from the fridge, but oh no, what had you done?

You’d snoozed the alarm, twice. And then when you were finally ready to be awake, you’d lay in bed for forty-five minutes needlessly scrolling through your phone, checking your notes on Tumblr, your Snapchat and your Instagram stories. Hell… you’d even gone on Facebook even though nobody even uses Facebook in this day and age. Then you’d clicked over to Buzzfeed, done a couple of quizzes to find out which Disney Princess you were and played a couple of rounds of solitaire. And then you’d realized the time and jumped in and out of the shower, choosing instead of washing your hair, to slip the head of the shower beneath your legs, which had led you to not even having time to dry off and to just toss some clothes on, grab your bag and get out the door.

You had good intentions every morning, but… you just didn’t act on them. And this was why you used your shower head every morning because you were such a flake that no dude wanted to come near you. Well, that and the company you kept.

And so you’d had no breakfast and two long lectures had basically put you into starvation mode and so you’d had no choice but to drag yourself to the caf and get the special of the day -- which claimed to be shepherds pie, but should have been renamed ‘brown sludge with white bits and the odd pea’ -- which you were like… a thousand percent sure you were going to get food poisoning from, but hey, at least your stomach wouldn’t be eating itself.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you will be better. You will get out of bed when your alarm goes off, you will go downstairs and get some breakfast and then you’ll have a long shower -- but you won’t masturbate, trying to get the shower head on that one spot is far too time consuming -- and put together something that is fit for human consumption to bring for lunch. Hell, when you get back home tonight maybe you’ll even take the time to sniff everything that’s on the floordrobe and maybe put it in the washing,

Maybe you’ll even fully clean your room while you’re waiting for the spin cycle to complete.

Actually, nah, maybe you’ll just watch the new episode of Catfish and eat a fat bowl of pasta.

You shudder as you look down at the ‘food’ again and with disdain, put the plastic fork (sidenote -- you know that Trost Community College ain’t exactly Oxbridge, but would it kill them to dish out the cash for one of those industrial dishwashers instead of trying to kill the planet you have to raise your children on -- near your mouth. You’re real tempted to hold your nose while you gulp it down, but you don’t really want to give Hitch Dreyse and her crew more ammunition for thinking you’re weird, so you just brace yourself and shove it in.

Well.

At least it doesn’t taste as bad as it looks. Definitely nothing gourmet, but if you distract yourself, then you’re probably gonna be able to finish it. You shove another forkful in and whip your phone out of your pocket, loading up Lovestruck and deciding to reread a few chapters of Ash Winters to distract yourself.

You’re about to come to one of the best sex scenes in the whole ‘book’, ignoring the world around you when a loud thump pulls you away from your Gangster bae. Peering over the top of your phone, you catch a glimpse of a thick, Art History book -- the cause of the thump, you’re sure -- as Jean slides into the seat opposite you.

You’ve known Jean forever. He’s basically the Boy Next Door, except he’s less Boy Next Door and more Boy Down the Road and on the Right Hand Side. He’s the only one of your little group of friends -- The Raspberry Crew, as you’d decided to name yourselves when you were five -- who still lives there. And like you, he’s also dumb as a bunch of rocks so he’s at community college too, so you spend a lot of time together.

“Hi.” You say.

He doesn’t reply, just looks at you and narrows his eyes as he pulls his own lunch out. It’s in a brown paper bag and of course it was handmade lovingly by the wonderful Mrs. Kirschtein, who was the nicest woman you knew and adored her son so much. Whereas your own mother liked to yell at you all the time to get out of bed and stop being a fuck up. Rude. Is it too late for her to adopt you?

“Okay,” you tell him. “I’ll bite. What’s going on?”

He looks up at you and the expression on his face changes from someone who wants to commit a murder, to someone who just watched their puppy get kicked into the sun. “It’s… nothing, really. It’s just…” he gives a big dramatic sigh. “Finally official.”

“What,” you ask him. “In all of the seven hells are you talking about?”

He looks around in an over dramatic gesture, to make sure that nobody is looking at the two of you and them just as over dramatically he leans in to you. “It is official.” His voice is a stage whisper, so that nobody can hear the two of you, like he’s in fucking Hamlet or some shit. “I’m the last virgin in Trost.”

And in hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to take a bite of your food as he was speaking because you splutter, covering his face in little bits of half-chewed mince and reach for your water. When he’s wiped his face and your choking has subsided, you look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” he snarls. “I know you did and I’m not repeating myself again.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I, uh, I definitely heard you, I’m just wondering if I heard you right. And if I did infact hear you right, I’m wondering when exactly between your Mom coddling you, your lectures, moping after Mikasa Ackerman and your homework did you manage to go around canvassing Trost to come to this conclusion. Cuz uh, if you did Kirsch then you’ve screwed your numbers up because you’re probably not the only one with your V-Plates still on this room, let alone in Trost.” You are technically a virgin, you’ve fooled around with a few people, sure and you’re pretty sure Jean just assumes you lost it to Marcel Galliard because he did walk in on you at a party with his dick in your mouth that one time, but are you going to admit that nothing but the streams from your shower head have penetrated you? Fuck no, you know he’s got a big mouth. “Also… there are children in Trost.” Jean is seemingly as disgusted by you that your brain went there judging by the fact he balls up his brown bag and throws it at your head.

“Sometimes I think there is something very wrong with you.” Shucks, you’re flattered, but hey at least it distracted him from his misery for all of five seconds. “But okay fine, all of the people in Trost who are of age,” he tells you through gritted together.

“Again,” you ask. “When was this survey conducted?” You push your plate away because honestly this conversation had made your appetite much, much less raging.

“I didn’t do a fucking survey,” he tells you a little more aggressive than is necessary in your opinion. “I just know and do you want to know how I know?”

Honestly, you didn’t really because you never know what the hell is going to come out of his mouth, but you know that if you say you don’t want to know then he is just going to ignore your wishes and come out with it anyway so you just keep quite and say nothing and barely five seconds pass, before he opens his mouth again.

“Marco.”

“Oh,” you can’t help but laugh because Marco Bodt is the nicest human being and at one point you had the hugest crush on him and you honestly can’t picture him bullying Jean by taunting him, it’s too surreal. “So Marco did the survey? Or die he come up to you and say…” you put on your best Marco voice. “Oh hey Jean, did you know you’re the last…” and the look on Jean’s face is another for you to shut your fucking mouth and not finish that sentence.

“There was no survey,” he’s talking to you through gritted teeth again and you can see the tips of his ears are a fiery red, a sure sign he is about to loose his temper. “Forget about the fucking survey. I came by to see if you were getting the bus this morning and your Mom said your ass was still in bed, so I walked over to his instead,” he takes a deep breathe. “His Mom sent me straight up to his room because he was still getting ready, which I thought was really weird because when is Marco ever late to anything and well… he and that brunette from his Psychology class were in bed together.”

Well, your appetite is definitely gone now, former crush or not, it’s never nice to hear something like that about someone you once liked. “…That doesn’t mean they’ve slept together, we’ve slept in the same bed together and has your dick been inside me? No, not it has not.”

“Trust me,” Jean shudders. “I left them too it and when I spoke to him earlier, well, he turned into a human tomato at the mention of her name.” He pauses. “Plus her tits were out.” Ugh, you can feel the brown sludge on the move and you know the brunette he’s talking about and you really, really hope that Mina Carolina took her pigtails out when she got smashed and oh your God, you cannot believe you just thought of sweet angel Marco and smashing, where did that brown bag go, you may need it. “And the last time we slept in a bed together we were both six.”

“Nah, it was last April when you got fucked at Reiner Braun’s party and I had to bring you home with me so your mother wouldn’t see you in that state.” You wave your hand, indicating that you want to change the subject. “Did I really need to know about Marco? I’m sure he’d prefer you kept that one quiet.”

“You’re the one who made me prove my life is over.”

“Oh puh-lease, your life is not over. You are just an overdramatic fuck. It will happen.”

“Oh yeah? When?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh let me just consult my crystal ball! Look, Jean, it will happen when you meet the right…”

“I swear to God, if you say when I meet the right person… I already did remember?” He sends a longing look across the caf and you don’t even have to follow his eyeline to know where he’s looking. At Mikasa Ackerman of course, a girl he met at the beginning of your time here, she’s Eren, a sort of frenemy of sorts of Jean’s foster sister. You’d thought it was kind of cute at first, until she’d gotten a girlfriend and he’d stayed as deluded as ever.

“Remember that time when ‘Kasa told you that even if she wasn’t with Annie she wouldn’t give you the time of day?” He doesn’t look away from her, so you’re guessing he didn’t hear you. Or he’s choosing to pretend he didn’t hear you. “Jean!”

“What?”

“Look, I promise you that it’ll happen. You’ve just got to wait it out.”

He pulls a face and starts gathering his things up. “Whatever. You don’t know that.”

You grin at him mischievously. “Oh it will, because if it hasn’t happened by your thirty-fifth birthday, I’ll buy you a hooker.”

“Fuck you.” He tells you, but there’s no actual malice in his words. You just smirk at him.

And the two of you go your separate ways for the rest of the day.

[jlf23tumble]

Jen!! I'm in desperate need of your amazing taste! I'm loving all this content from hl and i would LOVE some uptaded canon fics!🙏🏻 (canon can be SO GOOD!! And i love your fic recs!♡) My request is more for 'recent' canon fics (like set in recent-ish years, and i don't mind some angst too) Oh and if you want to add some fetus xf larry as a bonus i'm always down for that :) jajsnd *sends a kiss*

Bruised Fruit by @glasscushion, louis/harry, 1.2k words, E. Louis is obsessed with the way Harry smells in the heat of LA. (You know what I’m obsessed with? Someone who can cram this much visceral, er, visceralness into 1.2k words)

you flower, you feast by @thepriestthinksitsthedevil, louis/harry, 1.4k words, E. An anon on harrystylesbottoms asked for a fic where Louis worships Harry's thick booty... and here we are. (AND HERE WE ARE)

Healthy Appetite by @vondrostes, louis/harry, 2.5k words, E. “You’ve been eating more,” Louis commented as he dragged a finger down the curve of Harry’s side, carefully tracing the love handles that had finally returned now that Harry was finally on break again.Harry squinted at him suspiciously through his sunglasses. “I’m not sure if I’m meant to be flattered or insulted." (Terran’s another one who can pack an entire world in just a teeny bit of text, literally chef’s kiss on this one)

Alone Apart, Alone Together by bkljt, louis/harry, 2.6k words, E. Harry doesn’t know how, but he feels a shift as he waits for the response. A thickness to the air. It’s like there is energy, a spark, flowing between them, even thousands of miles apart. He didn’t necessarily mean it to sound sexual. He didn’t not mean it that way. He was going to leave it up to Louis’s interpretation. (One of my all-time fave tropes is phone sex/text...thank you to the wankfest, and thank you to this author, but I can’t find you on tumblr!!)

She, Myself, and I by @vondrostes, harry/nick, 3.1k words, E. “It’s me,” he said quietly. “What?” Harry sniffed; turned his head again to look at Nick, voice a little bolder. “You asked who ‘she’ is. It’s me.” (oh gender!! Terran has so many in this vein, and I’m not gonna rec ‘em all, but I could rec ‘em all, if that makes sense)

Like a Rolling Stone by @vondrostes, harry/nick, 3.4k words, E. He’d barely taken a single sip in the hour-plus he’d been sat there, unmoving, transfixed by Harry’s songs—haunted by the knowledge of what had inspired them. (I’ll stop, but yeah, rip gryles hours)

such a pretty face, on a pretty neck by cabinbythesea, louis/harry, 4.6k words, E. Harry goes to the Met Gala. Pink carpets just aren't Louis' thing, but Harry is. (I would tag the author, but there are so many similarly named aesthetic blogs, and can you even imagine? Anyway, thank you, author!)

I’m Not Over You (But I’m Trying) by tinygiant, louis/harry, 4.8k words, E. Louis' House of Solo photoshoot drops, and Harry forgets how to forget about boys. (all kinds of wonderfulness AND a pubes mention? Be still my beating heart! Can’t tag/find the author, but yeah, thanks for your service!)

My happiness depends on you and whatever you decide to do by Blake/ @newleafover, louis/harry, 5k words, E. If Harry asked him not to do it, Louis would call him naive and do it anyway. So Harry won’t ask him not to do it. But maybe he can help him make the most of a shitty situation."I'm here for my audition, sir." (this is from last summer, XFUK era, but it’s so good, plus it’s Blake, nuff said)

Warm Glow that Lingers On by Blake, louis/harry, 8.5k words, E. If Harry wants his nails painted red, he's got to earn it first. (description of Harry’s tour last summer...and mayhaps next summer, too, hmmmmmm?)

call me anything you like, but my name is by @wishforwishes, harry/mitch/sarah/clare, 9.9k words, E. some conversations are better left forgotten, some conversations are worth remembering, and some conversations you never get the chance to have. Featuring three mentors, two tea parties, one and a half recording studios, and a reference to Archie comics. (this is the second part of a story, but you don’t necessarily need to read part one to get it; I love everything about it, the way it starts and ends with Zayn, the entire gender exploration, how real it feels, sighhhhh)

be my once in a lifetime by HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals, louis/harry, 11k words, E. Just like there are only four other people who will ever understand what it’s like growing up in One Direction, there’s only one other person who knows what it’s like to find your soulmate just before you’re thrown into the spotlight and forced to acknowledge that the both of you have too many flaws and vices to make it through fame together. Or: It's all about having sex and being sad. And drunk. (Nina’s MIND, the mood, the words, the vibe, I love the way they think, the [insert really spot-on word about all] of this; following their blog a few months back was a ver’ ver’ smart thing of me to do, we have such similar tastes in fic, gosh, they’re swell, this is a Nina appreciation post at its core)

Maybe I Miss You series by 13ways/ @1ws, louis/harry, 27k words, E. Louis is on his way back to London after the Hits Live Birmingham concert. Harry is flying to New York for the Met Gala. They connect. (this makes it seem so simple and fun, but it is messy and brilliant in the best way...that wankfest really delivered)

Now for some fetus HL!!

Powerless (and I Don’t Care It’s Obvious) by objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain, louis/harry, 4k words, E. “Oh no, Lou, don’t make me laugh,” he whimpers. His Ribena-purple mouth twists into a glorious, breakable shape, and Louis’s heart stops. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet. (Lissssten, Phoenix is the queen of XF era HL, full stop, just know that I rec every single one of her stories, but I’m putting this one here because it was the last one she wrote; the people who sent her hate can burn in hell)

Sonic Sounds by @glasscushion, louis/harry, 5.7k words, E. "Harry takes a deep breath, suitably embarrassed, “I’m just really...” and he can’t say the obvious. He can’t just say really wet." Harry loves feeling embarrassed. Louis is happy to help. (fun with electric toothbrushes, which also makes me think of the fact that you can *still* buy a WMYB toothbrush that will sing to you while you brush; I don’t think that’s what happens here, lmao)

[strawhime]

[Disclaimer: There is foul language in this story. But other than that, this is pretty mild. <3 Like it says up in the picture. This isn’t my storyline. It’s actually a friend of mine and she gave me permission to rewrite her work~ You can find her on Tumblr and read the original story if you want <3 Thank you and I hope you enjoy it!]

I never really had any friends growing up. I was always a shy, quiet nerd in school. I only started to make friends when I got to middle school. Some of the kids at the school would bully me. One time, during lunch, two girls came up to me and started pushing me. One of them even poured a bucket of dirty water on me. I wanted to cry. Hearing them laugh at me, while I stood there. I only stopped when I heard another girl start talking, “You think this is funny? Are you not tired of picking on others?” I heard the voice say.

There was silence before I heard the stranger scoff, “Nothing to say? Typical.” 

Not soon after she spoke those words, I felt hands on my soaking shoulders, and I was quickly guided out of the cafeteria. we finally stopped walking once we were in the bathroom. I slowly looked up to see who this mysterious person was. My eyes wide as I was met with a soft smile and a napkin.  

“Sorry I didn’t jump in earlier. Lunch and I are in a committed relationship, food before anything else.“ She nodded seriously. Face stern before she broke out into a huge grin. It was infectious. I could feel a smile form and I started laughing at her lunch comment.

“It’s fine. Understandable… You didn’t have to help me. I could’ve handled it…” I quietly responded. She shrugged, reaching to grab more napkins to help wipe off the water.

“I didn’t. But I wanted to. Plus, I need to do one good deed once a month, so my chances of going to hell is a lot smaller.” Her jokes weren’t that funny, but I couldn’t help but chuckle at her words. 

“Ah, I see… Thank you. For helping. I’m y/n.” I put my hand out towards the other for a handshake. Smile bright as she takes my hand, giving it a small shake. “Bri~”

From that they on, we’ve been best friends. It wasn’t long after that when I met Wendy and Yuta. Both were friends with Bri. They were just as nice as she was. Always looking out for each other. And to be able to call them my friends, was amazing. We were inseparable. Always going to each other’s house after school or going on trips during school breaks. We even worked hard to get accepted into the same college. 

Even though we were in college, I was still one of the nerds in school. I always had my head buried in my books. Studying day and night to get the best grades. I would hide in the school library to finish my work, study, or try to read the book I’m currently obsessed with now. Since we were college freshmen, my friends always made it a point to try and get me to socialize more. 

“Amazing that you can still hold your head up from all the constant studying. Big brain hours.” Bri teased as she finally stopped scrolling through her phone. 

“…What?” I squinted at her, “Speak English.”

“Big brain hours. Cause you got a big brai—” She was quickly cut off by Yuta.

“No one accepts your stupid lingos, Bri.” He rolled his eyes at the whines of protest. “But! Bri isn’t wrong. You do study a lot. Why don’t you take a break?” I know they were concerned. Their expressions genuinely concerned about my lack of social skills, save for Bri. She constantly always looks confused.

“I can’t. If I take a break, I won’t be able to pass any of my exams coming up…” 

“Oh my god! It’s just a small break. You don’t even have to do it often. Just every so often.” Wendy chimed in, “You’re already smart~ You’ll be fine~” 

Yuta nodded in agreement, “Just come get coffee with us at least!” 

“Ok! Ok!” I’ll go get coffee…” I sighed loudly. “You guys are relentless.” 

“Bitch—We literally stayed over last night to study.” Bri made a noise of disbelief before she earned a slap to the head by Wendy. 

“Stop complaining. You’re the number one person who needs study sessions because apparently, you’re too busy staring at that guy in your hist—”

“We do not speak of that! Stop! Zip it! I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re crazy—” We all stared at Bri as her face turned red from embarrassment, shaking our heads as we watch her make excuse after excuse. Wendy had to slap a hand over the other’s mouth to shut Bri up. 

“Shut up, idiot. I was just teasing. But now I’m thinking otherwise but we can ignore this for now. Because y/n said she’s willing to get coffee with us~!” Wendy grinned as she happily grabbed her stuff and started to skip towards the direction of the coffee shop. Followed by a red-faced Bri, who was grumbling to herself about what horrible friends she has. I glanced at Yuta, who only sighed and shook his head. 

“We’ve truly been blessed with such a friendship, huh y/n?” I couldn’t help but giggle before trying to put a serious face and nod. But it only lasted for a split second before we started laughing hysterically. Getting up with our things and quickly trying to catch up with the other two. Our laughter gets louder when we notice Bri pouting and rubbing at her head. Complaining that the slap to the head was uncalled for and that one of these days she’s seriously going to get brain damage. I shook my head with a smile. Glancing at all my friends. I’ve been blessed with such an amazing friendship.

We arrived at the coffee shop that was down the road from our campus. Taking a seat at the table in the back of the shop. Where it was a little quieter. We all had our drinks, talking about our classes or just anything that came to mind. I could feel my body relax, the stress leaving. It actually felt nice to take a break. The atmosphere calming… That is until I saw one of the girls who bullied me my whole life, Ashley. My body tensed when I saw her gaze. A small smirk forming on her lips as she made her way towards us. 

Bri was the first to notice the sudden change in the mood. She looked at me, confused. Before she followed my gaze. Her expression turning serious when Ashley came up to the table. 

“Can we help you?” Bri asked, voice clearly laced with annoyance. 

Ashley smiled. She was clearly amused at the tone. “What could you possibly help me with? Especially since you hang out with a low life like her~” 

“What is your problem? You’ve been a bitch to me ever since middle school. What have I ever done to you?” I could feel my anger start to boil, my fist slowly clenching. 

“Are you going to play fucking dumb?” She crossed her arms with a brow raised. 

I was starting to get annoyed, “I seriously don’t know!”

“You stole my boyfriend!” Ashley stomped her foot like a child. Now I was even more annoyed. “Jeffery!”

Before I could say anything to Ashley, Bri started coughing. Almost choking on her drink at Ashley’s words. I watched as she hit her chest a few times before taking a y/np breath, “The fuck?! You weren’t even dating him!” 

Now that helped me relax. I bit my lip a little to stop me from laughing. Instead, I cleared my throat and leaned back in my seat. “He asked me out. How was I supposed to know that you liked him? It’s not my fault!” 

“Well, it is your fault! He rejected me because he was with your ugly ass!” There was a gasp from the right of me. Most likely from Yuta. And I was right because he started to speak. 

“That was in middle school! Why are you still hung up on it?” He asked, clearly upset at what she had just called me. But instead of an answer, Ashley knocks over my coffee. Spilling it all over me. 

“Oops~ My bad~” She shrugs innocently and starts laughing as she walks away. I only stared down at the mess on my clothes. 

“Just my fucking luck…” I muttered to myself as I pushed my seat out. Hearing the slight shuffling from my worried friends. “What a fucking mess…” 

None of us noticed there was another person who was quietly watching the scene unfold. The stranger got up from his seat, grabbing a bunch of napkins and headed towards us. 

“Hey, are you ok?” He asked kindly. 

I huffed in annoyance, “Does it look like I’m ok—” I stopped mid-sentence when I looked up at the source of the voice. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at him. He was extremely gorgeous. Even if he was only just wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, his black hoodie draped over his arm. He made the outfit even more stunning. 

My train of thought was cut off by Bri, “Um… She’s fine. Just a coffee spill…” She squinted suspiciously at the guy. “And who are you?”

The stranger smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck briefly. “Oh! Sorry. My name is Jaehyun. I was sitting right over there, and I saw what happened. I came over to offer some napkins and maybe my jacket to cover the big wet stain on her shirt.

“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun. This is y/n, Yuta, Wendy, and I’m Bri.” She gestured to each person as she introduced them. Noting that he never took his eyes off me. Only briefly to glance at my friends. 

“It’s nice to meet you guys. Here y/n, take this.” He handed her the napkins and his hoodie. 

I blushed slightly, slowly taking the items. “Thanks… You don’t have to.”

“I know but I don’t think it’d be fun for you to walk out of here with coffee all over you. You can always give back my jacket anytime. You go to the college right up the road from here, right?

Yuta pursed his lips for a bit, waiting to see if I would respond. But I didn’t have anything to say. I was mesmerized by how gorgeous this guy was. 

“She does. We all do. Why? Do you also go there?” Yuta tilted his head slightly as he stared at the other male. 

“Yeah, actually. I’m majoring in music.” Jaehyun smiled as he stood up straight, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ve actually seen you guys around the campus often. And I have math with y/n.”

My eyes widen in shock at his reply. ‘He’s in my math class? Why have I never noticed him?!’ I thought to myself. Clearly confused and shocked. “Really? Math?”

Jaehyun laughs softly. The back of his hand coming up to cover his mouth slightly. “Yeah, sorry I haven’t introduced myself sooner. But you’re usually focused on your work. So, I couldn’t really bother you.” He caught a glimpse of the time on his watch. “Ah, I have to get to my music class soon. I’ll see you in math.”

With that, he waved to all of us and left. Heading out of the shop and back towards the school. I was still shocked to know that we had the same math class. How could I not have noticed such a handsome guy? Well, I did hate math. So that could be why I never noticed. I also have Ashley in that class. So, I was always smart and kept my distance. Sitting far from her. 

“Come on y/n, lets head back so you can wash up before your next class.” Yuta got up with Bri and Wendy, smiling. 

“I mean, unless you wanna sit here and think about your knight in shining armor~” He cooed sweetly, only to start laughing when my face turned red and I reached out to slap him. Then towards the other two because they had also started to laugh. 

“Shut up! I don’t even know him!” I huffed, slowly putting the hoodie on. “You guys are delusional!” 

“Ah! We are not! You couldn’t even tear your eyes away from him~” Bri sighed dramatically. Her hands clasped together as she leaned against Yuta. Batting her lashes at him. “He even handed her his jacket~ That’s so domestically sweet~ I’m jealous~”

I groaned and rubbed my temples as they both attempted to pout cutely at me. ‘They’re fucking idiots. I swear’. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my stuff, leaving the three idiots laughing behind me. 

“Wait for us!” I heard them yell as I smiled to myself as we all left the shop. Their teasing stopped once we made it to the school. Teasing turned into an argument between Wendy and Bri.

“Listen here, dumbass. You cannot drink peanut butter. It’s not possible! It spreads like butter! So that’s why it's peanut butter!” Wendy pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

“Aight. But have you actually tried to drink peanut butter?!”

“HAVE YOU!?”

Yuta and I both groaned in unison. Clearly, we had reached the part of the day where Bri’s brain cells (whatever left of it) stopped working properly. Because here we are. Listening to her and Wendy argue about why peanut butter isn't called a peanut smoothie. I quickly interrupted the argument to tell them that I was going to head back to my dorm to change and wash Jaehyun’s hoodie. Since I had about an hour or so until my next class. Yuta shouted protests of me leaving him with the two idiots. But I only waved and quickly made a break for my dorm. I was not going to stay around for the next dumb question that Bri decided she was curious about. 

I got to my dorm and quickly went to go wash up, taking my clothes and the hoodie down to the laundry room to wash them. I sat there in the laundry room, waiting for the clothes. I couldn’t help but think about him. ‘why was he so nice to me?’ I sighed softly, rubbing my face to clear my head of these thoughts.

“He’s just nice. Don’t overthink it. It’s probably nothing.” I groaned once more, slouching in my seat. “I have math with him later. Oh god…” 

I puffed out my cheeks as I stared up at the ceiling. “It’s fine. I’ll return his jacket and if he talks to me again. I’ll talk. That’s it.” 

I patted my shoulder, a solid plan as the clothes finish. I grab them and head back to my room. I fold his hoodie and put it in a bag to give to him in class. I checked the time. Noticing that I should leave now so I won’t be late to class. I gathered my things and headed out to the class. Walking in, I saw him sitting by himself. I walked over to him and placed the bag, with his hoodie in it, down next to him. 

“Thanks again for letting me borrow your jacket. I washed it so it doesn’t smell like coffee.” I smiled shyly.

“No problem…” He smiled back. I hesitated before turning on my heels to go to my seat. I stopped in my tracks when I felt him gently grab my hand. My cheeks started to heat up and I quickly turned my attention back to him. 

He notices what he did and he’s quick to pull his hand away, ears turning red from such a bold move. “Ah! Um… Did you wanna sit with me?”” 

I bit my lip slightly, “Um… Su—” I was rudely interrupted by Ashley. She came in and shoved me to the side, taking the seat right next to Jaehyun. 

“Excuse me. That’s my seat.” She gave me an innocent smile as she set her bag down. “Thanks~”

“Oh, y/n was gonna sit there…” Jaehyun looked at Ashley with a confused expression before he gazed back at me. 

Ashley stared at me, her gaze piercing. Telling me to get the hint and get lost. I shook my head and smiled nervously, “N-no…~ It’s ok. I’ll just sit in my usual spot. It gives me a better view of the board.” 

“See, Jae~ She’ll just sit in her usual spot~” I quickly made my way to my seat, pulling my books out and quickly burying my face into my arms until lectures started.

It was going to be the longest lecture of my life. Once I heard the teacher walk in, I sat up straight and got ready to take notes. I casually glanced around, the feeling of someone looking at me was bothering. My eyes stopped at Jaehyun, catching his gaze as he looked at me and smiled. My cheeks turned pink as I quickly went back to looking at the textbook in front of me. From time to time I would steal glances at me. And every time he would catch me and smile. I couldn’t help but smile back every time. I couldn’t believe I never noticed such a perfect person in my class before. At some point during the lecture, I could feel eyes on me again. I thought it was just Jaehyun but when I looked up, it was Ashley. Her eyes staring daggers into me. I quickly ignore her, looking down at my book. ‘Did she see me looking at Jaehyun? No… That can’t be it…’ I lightly shake my head from the thought. Pretending that nothing was wrong. I took more notes down and even wrote down the assignment before packing my stuff up and heading out of the class. 

“Hey y/n…!” I stopped at the sound of Jaehyun’s voice. My eyebrows raised as I turn to look at him. “Where are you off to now?”

“I’m heading back to my room to get changed into my clothes for dance class…” I quietly answer him. 

“Oh? Are you majoring in dance…?” He tilts his head as he asks, curiosity filling his eyes.

“Oh no! I just love dancing. I don’t have any classes right now, so I usually use this free time to either study or dance in the empty dance rooms downstairs.”

“That’s pretty cool. You mind if I j—” He was abruptly stopped when Ashley came by and linked her arm around his own. Pulling him along with her.

“Let’s go have lunch together, Jae~” She cooed at him, dragging him down the halls towards the cafeteria. 

I puffed my cheeks out slightly before letting out a breath. Deciding on just making my way back to my room to change into more comfortable clothing for dance. It was much needed since I couldn’t study properly from everything that happened today. 

I got to the studio in about an hour or so, setting my bag down and moving to the middle of the dance room to start on my stretches. As I sat there, stretching. My mind kept thinking about Jaehyun. I couldn’t get him off my mind since I first saw him at the Café. His smile made my heart beat quicker than usual. How sweet he was when he offered his jacket for me after the whole ordeal with Ashley… I frowned. Ashley. I can’t believe she would hold this stupid grudge over me. I didn’t know she liked Jeffrey. She never used to bother me in elementary school. Only until we reached middle school and I got asked out by Jeffrey. After that, she has been nothing but a tyrant to me. 

I closed my eyes to take small y/np breaths, clearing my mind, then opening them to stare at myself in the reflection. I got up from my spot and walked over to the speakers. Playing the first song on my playlist. The beats started to pulse through the speakers, my head starting to bob along with the song as I slowly walked back to the center of the room. I stretched out my arms before I let the music completely take over my body. My movements were fluid but sharp as I danced along with the song. 

Song after song, I would dance through them. Getting all my frustration and stress out. Helping in clearing my mind more. It has been a while since I danced. I was caught up with studying for the upcoming exams.  The music was loud, my mind now lost in the music as I finally felt myself floating. As if everything around me had disappeared. Like no one else existed in this world but me. 

After some time, I felt my body start to ache, the sweat dripping down my face as I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe it off. I stopped, panting harshly from dancing for so long. I jumped at the sudden sound of clapping from behind me. My hand clutching my chest as I quickly turn towards the sound. It was Jaehyun, smiling brightly at me. ““Holy shit—!”

“Wow! That was pretty amazing, y/n~!”

“How long were you standing there? You scared me!” I pouted at him, causing the other to laugh. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you! I wasn’t here long. I got here maybe… twenty minutes ago?” He looked at his watch and nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. Twenty minutes ago. But that was really good.” 

“Oh… Um… Thanks…~” I smiled shyly as I quickly walked over to my bag, sitting down as I grabbed my water bottle to get a drink. 

He followed me over, hesitant but sure enough he takes a seat in front of me. His legs crossed and he leans back on his hands. “How long have you been dancing? You’re pretty amazing.”

“Mm, since I was able to walk. My mom would tell me stories about how I would dance every time there was music playing and the only way to get me to stop, was to stop the music.” I chuckled, recalling the countless stories of how my mom would smile at her every time she would dance. It always made her happy. 

He smiled gently, “That’s really cute.”

I couldn’t help but blush a little, smiling at the comment. As we sat there, we started talking about other things. It felt like hours had passed and I felt like I had learned so much about him. This was the first time I was so open about myself to anyone that wasn’t my 3 best friends. Jaehyun was genuinely interested in me. Someone who would listen to me. Make me feel like I was worth something. I was sad when we had to part ways. I had to head back to my room to wash up and get started on my assignments. We said our goodbyes and left. 

I quickly made a beeline towards Bri’s dorm. I needed to talk to her. I didn’t know what I was feeling or what I should do. I was so scared of falling for someone so perfect. Especially if Ashley was involved. She would make my life 100 times worse than what it already is. I lightly knocked on my forehead. Trying to will the thought away as I finally made it to Bri’s. I hurriedly knocked on the door. ‘I know she’s there. She doesn’t have classes right now. And she’s usually asleep but this is an emergency!’ I kept knocking until I heard a loud thud followed by a string of curses and grumbling. I tapped my foot impatiently until the door swung open. 

I was greeted by a sleepy Bri who was in the middle of rubbing her eye, frown on her face before she finally noticed it was me. 

“y/n? Wha--?” 

I push past her before she could finish her question. Dropping my bag on the floor as I dove straight onto her bed. I waited until I heard the door close and then the sound of her feet padding towards me and then I’m being shoved towards the wall, so Bri could climb back into bed.

“You better have a very good fucking reason for waking me up…” She grumbled, rubbing her face into the pillow. 

I stared up at the ceiling of her room, smiling when I start thinking about Jaehyun again. About the conversation we had. Bri probably noticed that I wasn’t paying attention since there was a lack of response on my end. She turned her head to squint at me. Probably noticing that I was smiling like an idiot at this point. She propped her head on her hand. 

“You smiling like that is probably the scariest thing I’ve ever witnessed… And that’s saying a lot. Cause I accidentally walked in on Yuta. Naked.” She shuddered at the thought. 

I snap out of my thoughts and quickly turn on my side to look at her. “That’s haunting. Please don’t share that with me.”

“Fair enough. I won’t share it if you tell me what’s got you smiling like you’ve committed the perfect crime.” 

I slapped her arm at that, eyes rolling when she whines and rubs the spot I hit. “It’s nothing.”

“What? Oh, fuck no—bitch you better fucking tell me what happened or I’m dragging your ass out of my room!”

“How rude! I thought we were friends!” I feigned hurt. Gripping my chest dramatically as if I was in pain.

“I can end this friendship as fast as I can end your life, y/n. Now tell me!”

“Fuck--! Fine! Jesus Christ… Why are you so mean?”

“Because if I was nice, the world would combust.”

I shake my head before giving up and telling her everything. That happened in the dance rooms earlier. How Jaehyun had shown up out of nowhere and they spent hours just talking about our interests and other things that came to mind. I could tell I was smiling a lot as I was speaking because Bri was staring at me. Her eyes were soft, and she could only laugh at my words. 

“You totally like him. Don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement from her. 

I could feel my face heat up, “W-what?! No, I don’t! We were just talking! How did you come up with such a ridiculous thing!?”

“What a fucking liar! Look at you! You’re red as a tomato!”

“It’s not!” I quickly try to cover my face, trying to hide my red face. 

“I’ve known you for years~ I know you like him~ Just admit it.”

I groaned loudly, rubbing at my face before a sudden idea came to me. “I’ll admit it if you admit you have a thing with that guy in your hi—” 

“Y’all got some nerve tryna bring his dumb ass up! No. I do not like him. He’s an idiot—Like a giant idiot!”

“Oh, come on! That’s a total lie!” She quickly covered my mouth, squinting her eyes at me. 

“I will end you. Last time I checked. This was about you. Not me. So, let us get back to you~” I waited till she pulled her hand away. Grinning at her.  

“You like him. “

“…And you can now take your leave.” 

“Ok! Ok! Ok! I’m sorry! I’ll let it go~” 

“Thank you~”

“Until my crisis is over~!” I laughed at the glare I got from Bri. Her face made me double over in laughter. 

“I have the worst taste in friends. Seriously.” She stretched out before hugging her pillow. “But what are you gonna do. Are you gonna tell him?

“Tell him? What? Why would I do that? I don’t even know if he likes me back!”

“You wouldn’t know until you tell him.”

“Forget it. It would be impossible. Ashley would kill me if she ever found out he was with me during free period.”

“Why do you let her run your life like this—”

“Can we just… Can we let it go? I just wanted to tell you what happened today.”

I watched as Bri pursed her lips in contemplation. She slowly nods, “Yeah. Ok. Fine. I just want to say. The way he stared at you at the coffee shop today… I could tell there was something more than him just being nice.”

I stayed quiet. Moving to lay on my back to stare at the ceiling as I thought about her words. ‘Does he really like me…? What’s the point… Ashley would really destroy me if I go near him again.’ There was long silence, my brows furrowed as I slowly glanced at Bri. Asleep. I shook my head with a soft smile at the sight of her sleeping. 

“She really doesn’t let anything stop her from sleep.” I murmured to myself before I slowly got off the bed and head back to my room. “I’ll worry about all this tomorrow…”

The next morning, I woke up to a loud knock on my door. I groaned at the sudden loud knocking. Dragging myself out of bed and trudging over to the door, opening it rather quickly. Revealing Yuta and Wendy, with large grins on their faces. My face pales at the sight, “Oh no… She fucking told you—”

“Of course she did~ We knew you weren’t gonna do it. So she did the responsible friend thing and told us~!” Wendy happily sang as she strolled past me and made herself comfortable on my bed. 

Yuta patted my head before following in. “Honestly you’re going through a crisis. And we’re here to help.” 

“It’s not a crisis—”

“y/n~ It’s a crisis~ You definitely like the guy~ You should do something about it~”

“Wen! It’s not that easy!” I whined, huffing as I go to sit on the floor. 

“Because of Ashley~? Forget her~ She’s just ugly and bitter~” Wendy responds, Yuta humming in agreement.

“For someone who’s that pretty, she has such an ugly personality.”

I sighed exasperatedly. Defeated. “You guys don’t have classes with her. She’d ruin me!”

“That’s what you said in middle school, but she stopped picking on you, right?”

“When you guys were around. You guys can’t protect me all the time. The moment you’re out of sight or where she’s a little gutsier, she’ll do something! The whole café thing was just a small taste of what she could do.” 

There was a long pause before Wendy spoke up. Her tone was a lot calmer than usual. “You can’t be afraid of her forever. And really. From what Bri has told us, he sounds like he really cares about you. And you care about him too…~”

“Yeah, y/n. Think about it. We’re not trying to force you to do something you don’t want to do. But you light up when you talk about him.” Yuta leaned over to grip my hand gently, “You deserve happiness. Just remember that.”

I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, I quickly wipe at the tears that fall and laugh. “You guys really are the best. I’m so glad to have you guys…”

“And we’re glad to have you~” Wendy happily bounces on the bed, “Now we have another crisis~”

We all looked at each other, all of us smiling smugly with each other before we all spoke at the same time. “Bri~!”

We spent the rest of the morning talking about Bri and her obvious crush. Along with finding out about any upcoming events. After Wendy and Yuta left my room, I couldn’t help but think about all the advice they’ve given me. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror and gave myself a pep talk. “Just tell him. Even if he doesn’t like you back. Maybe Ashley would leave me alone when she sees me get rejected?” 

I sighed dejectedly, still staring at my reflection. “That’s stupid. I should just get ready for class.”

With that said, I make my way out and towards the library to meet up with my friends. I wasn’t feeling so well so I had to skip chemistry. But since I have that class with Bri, I could ask her for her notes and homework. I see them all in the front, talking and laughing. Yuta notices me first, smiling brightly and waving. “y/n!”

I slowly jog over to them, smiling. “Hey guys~ What’s up?”

“Thank god you’re here. Settle this for me. Can you drink strawberry jelly?” Bri asked, her hands making a gesture for me to agree with her. 

“Um… I’m confused… Where did you even get that idea?” I respond, head tilting slightly. 

“Because it’s made out of strawberry juice!” Bri yelled, hands flailing slightly.

Before I could speak, Wendy groans loudly. “That doesn’t mean you should drink strawberry jelly!! It’s technically a solid, idiot!”

“Fight me, Wendy! You don’t know that!”

“I don’t need to know when it’s a stupid idea~!”

“I will end you!”

“Do it, bitch~! I’m waiting~!” Wendy threw her arms up. “Come at me~!”

Yuta quickly pulled Bri back before she could pounce on Wendy, as I started laughing at the sight of Bri trying to swing at Wendy, Yuta struggling to hold her back, and Wendy making random faces at her. I wiped at the tears that started forming from all the laughing before I noticed something odd. 

I cleared my throat to catch their attention. Crossing my arms over my chest as I waited for them to stop. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Yuta asked curiously. 

“Oh, nothing. Just… noticed…. Bri~ When did you get a new hoodie~?” I sang, watching as Bri’s eyes grew wide and her cheeks started to turn red. 

“H-huh? Oh! Um! I just bought this—yeah! Like last week or something. I can’t remember…!” She stammered. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the hoodie. 

As we stared at her, we noticed the hoodie to be a lot bigger than her other hoodies. She was practically swimming in it. “So, you’re saying it’s your hoodie? You bought it?”

“Yes—Why are you questioning me so much??? Can’t I buy a new hoodie??” 

“Why’re you getting so worked up~?” Wendy sang, a smug grin on her face. 

“I’m not! I’m just being interrogated. I’m out of here! I have a class to attend!” She flailed her arms before she quickly walked away.

We all started chuckling, shaking our heads as we watched her figure disappeared in the crowds of the campus. We all looked at each other like we did earlier that morning before we spoke in unison again. “Johnny~”

We all started cracking up laughing. Bri will kill us when she finds out we pretty much know. She would forever continue to deny it, even after death. 

Yuta started to calm down, rubbing at his cheeks. “The funniest thing is that he’s my friend. And he hasn’t once shut up about her and how she’s very… Tsundere~”

“She’s gonna murder us. You know that, right?” I tried to calm my breathing, shaking my head. 

“She will. But she wouldn’t really. She loves us too much.” Wendy and I both nodded in agreement. 

We continued to talk a little more after we stopped laughing about the fact that Bri would ignore us for a week because of how embarrassed she got today. I checked the time and saw that it was almost time for math, and I excused myself from the group. Telling them that we’d meet at the cafeteria around lunchtime to eat together. As I walked down the halls towards math class, I didn’t notice Ashley was waiting for me. 

“Hey, slut!” I jumped at the sudden insult. I looked up and saw Ashley there, smirking.

I clenched my fists as I saw her. “What did you just call me?!”

“Are you suddenly deaf? I said… HEY SLUT!!!” 

“What is your problem? Why can’t you just get over the past already?!”

She scoffed, amused. “Oh, sweetie. No~ I’m not mad about that. I saw you hanging out with Jae at the dance studios yesterday~” 

“What—” My jaw dropped, ‘she was there?’

“You think he likes you back? A loser? A nobody?”

“What makes you think I like him?!”

“Don’t try to lie to me~ I know you like him. But too bad you’re fucking delusional and think he likes you back~”

“Why is that hard to believe that he might actually like me? Huh? I mean Jeffery asked me out over you!”

“You’re fucking dead, bitch!” She then knocked my books out of my hands and shoved me against the wall. As I hit the wall, I ended up scraping my elbow and hurting my hand. 

She towered over me, but I refuse to look up. I was praying that maybe one of my friends were around. Or someone who could help me. But that was impossible. It was like middle school all over again. I could hear the snickering of the students in the hall. I felt my eyes started to sting, tears welling up as I sat there. 

“Don’t ever go near Jaehyun again. You stay away from him or else!” I didn’t respond, gripping at my arm. Feeling the pain from the push. 

Ashley smiled triumphantly before she froze in her spot at the familiar but angry voice, “What is going on?”

“Oh! Jae—”

“You. What do you think you’re doing? Did you really think I would want to be with someone like you? When all you do is hurt other people because you think it’s fun?”

“N-No…!” Panic settled in her brain, watching as he pushed past Ashley. 

I tried to get up slowly, not paying attention to her surroundings. Wanting to get my stuff and leave. I reach out to pick up my books, but before I could there’s someone else picking them up. “Ah… Thank you… But you don’t hav—” 

I look up to see that it’s Jaehyun. ‘When did he get here?’ I thought to myself. He looked angry. He didn’t even say anything to me. He just quietly picked up my stuff. I never knew there was this side of him. 

“Are you ok?” He softly asked, his expression slightly pained as I notice his gaze on where I’m holding my elbow.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine…” I didn’t get a chance to hide the scrape before he wraps his arm around my shoulder and took me to the same practice room we were in yesterday. He sat me down on one of the chairs in the room. 

“I’ll be right back, ok? Stay here.” 

I nodded quietly and watched as he disappeared. Moments later he’s back with a first aid kit that they had stored in one of the instructor’s rooms. “Here. Let me see your elbow.”

“I’m fine, really.” I shift slightly in my seat, biting my lip just a little. 

“No, you aren’t. Come on. I won’t hurt you.”

He then moved my hand to take a better look at my elbow. The scratch was a little more than what it started off as. It had gotten worse from me trying to hide my cut. I watched as he took out the saline and start to clean out any debris that had gotten into my wound. Then he takes out the disinfectant to properly clean the cut. My eyes widen when I see the disinfectant, I was never good with the stinging pain that comes from the disinfectant. I pulled my arm back suddenly, which scared him. He smiled softly and gently took my hand. 

“I know it’ll sting. But trust me. We need to clean it properly or you’re gonna get a scar. I promise to make it quick and make sure it stings less. Ok?”

I stared at him skeptically before slowly relaxing and nodding my head. I clenched my eyes shut as he put the medicine on my cut. He noticed my face scrunch up and he gently started to blow on it to dry the medicine a lot faster and lessen the pain. I peeked an eye open to glance at him, noticing the pain was subsiding and I slowly relaxed once again.

“Do you do this often?”

“Oh. Mm, yeah. My friends get hurt all the time when we have showcases for our classes. So I learned a few of the basics for first aid.” He smiled as he placed the band-aid onto your wound. “There we go. All done~”

“Oh—Thank you… Again.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Um… Did you hear… Everything?”

“Heard what? The conversation that Ashley had with you?”

“…Yeah…”

“Did you not want me to hear it?”

“…That depends… Does it explain why you helped me back there?”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his neck nervously. “Well… That’s because... I got tired of seeing someone I love get hurt.”

  I lift my head up to look at him in disbelief. “I��m sorry…?”

“Ah… I got tired of seeing Ashley do such horrible things to you. And after the first day, I got the courage to walk up to you and talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I used to get so frustrated, every time I tried to get close to you, she was right there. Yesterday when we talked in the practice room, it felt great. It was amazing to finally meet someone who I can just talk to and who would listen to me. You like me for me. And not just because of my looks.”

“O-Oh… I see…” I smiled shyly at him, moving to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “I feel the same… I never met someone in my life who genuinely cared about my interests. Who actually listens to me, I’ve only had three people in my life who would do that. But it has been years since I’ve met someone who makes me smile as much as you do. My friends kept telling me to tell you how I felt. But… But I was afraid. I was afraid to tell you because of Ashley…” 

We were silent for a few minutes as we sat there in the studio. Then as I was about to get up, he came over to me and pulled me into a hug. I looked at him with confusion. Before I could question him, he had already leaned in to press his lips softly against mine. It was a quick press of the lips but it felt like a lifetime. My heart raced as I stared up at him. 

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything. Ever. I’ll always be here to listen to anything you have to say. And be with you for as long as you want me to.” 

I smiled as he kept me in his arms, burying my face into his chest. I never felt these feelings before, and I wasn’t scared of them. He was like my music that I would put on full blast to make the world disappear but us. 

[spnfanficpond]

July Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE JULY’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @manawhaat

Sanctuary (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

I am in love with the way this starts. This sacred space that has been created, and Dean’s part in it, is so sweet and pure. It just radiates warmth and good energy and gives me all the happy feels! And then Sam comes into play and there’s a deep level of sensuality that just oozes into you as you read and the way this flows as an almost spiritual sexual encounter could have easily been overdone, but you were able to pull back just enough to be in the sweet spot and give Sam and this kind of sex the care that it needs. Kudos, my friend! 

Shoot (oneshot) by @winchesterswoonathon

This entire story and the way these characters interact with each other is incredibly organic. It’s the Jo and the John we know are there but don’t get to see on the show. It’s poetic and sexy and risky and wrong but in all the right ways. There’s such a good balance in all of this and I seriously fucking love it! 

Stitches (oneshot) by @mrswhozeewhatsis

UGH THIS FIC GIVES ME THE CHILLS! Like Dean’s sewing, there is so much care and attention to detail in this story. It’s done right. It’s done with grace. The glimpse we see is one we don’t see on the show, but it’s impossible to believe anything other than the history that Michelle has created for Dean. And weaving that backstory into his experiences the way she does is fucking seamless and stabs you in the goddamn heart and murders you in the middle of the aisle in fucking Walmart. But like, in a good way. 

Good Intentions (drabble) by @atc74

This fic is from Dean’s POV and it is raw and honest and powerful and vulnerable and pissed off and heartbreaking in all the ways that he is. This is a story told in a very appropriate way for Dean and it’s a great capture of such a layered character! 

Nominated by @bookshido 

The Last Time by @thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters 

So, I knew that I wanted to nominate this piece and this author as soon as I helped beta this fic because it reminded me so much of a story I’d see come from a Big Fish. Like, I only had one comment for the whole piece when I was looking it over and that wasn’t even a big change. This author works so hard and writes with a level of skill I don’t see a lot out there except from some of the most expert writers, and English isn’t even her first language! She writes consistently, is dedicated, and is super sweet to boot! If anyone deserves this award, she deserves to be recognized among the other winners.

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis 

Come Tomorrow, Feel No Pain by @mere-mortifer 

Considering this is their first SPN fic, EVER, it’s unbelievable!! There’s everything you could ever want in a Dean fic, right here! Totally blown away!

Nominated by @erins-culinary-service

Underworld’s Hero (series) by @flamencodiva

I love this sequel and getting the chance to see things through Illiara’s eyes and I’m living for the slow burn!

Don’t Run (oneshot) by @flamingcodiva

Her first A/B/O fic and its so good! It’s angsty and the reader is so stubborn can’t wait to see where it goes 

Fake Yours (series) by @supernatural-jackles​  

I binge read this in one night, but i just couldn’t stop reading. It’s such a sweet AU and the interactions between Dean and the reader are just so fluffy and cute!

Wrong Number (series) @supernatural-jackles​

My eyes were not only blessed with this first part but with 2 more parts after! I love that this takes place before the show even officially starts. Dean is such a gentleman as always. If you haven’t read it yet you’re missing out. 

When You Least Expect It (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer

I don’t usually read Jensen fics, but I love this one! There’s so much happening with the ex’s and between the reader and Jensen all with a spotify playlist to go along with it.

Nominated by @thelittleredwhocould

Stitches (oneshot) by @mrswhozeewhatsis 

If you want to cry, this is the fic for you. I love the imagery Michelle conjures of little Dean learning how to sew and how he applies that skill through his life.

Married at First Sight (series) by @saxxxology 

I adore this little series. There’s only 2 parts but I could definitely read 100 parts. It’s just such an interesting idea for a game show and the addition of one Sam Winchester only makes it better.

Captivated (series) by @saxxxology 

This is one of my favorite series ever. Only 10 parts are on Tumblr rn. It wasn’t getting much interaction, so Saxxy decided to keep the rest to her Patreon for now. Y’all should go show it some love.

Wrong Number (series) @supernatural-jackles 

This fic is super cute. While the idea of calling a strange man scares me to death, Dean makes it 1000x less scary. The idea of Dean’s voice on the other end of the phone…

Fake Yours (series) by @supernatural-jackles  

I’m a sucker for fake relationship fics and this is definitely a good one. Dean makes such a good fake boyfriend.

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind)  (series) by @teamfreewill-imagines  

This will always be one of my favorite series. I love how what was a little smutty thing has developed into this lovely story of a girl finding a family (can Jensen and Danneel please adopt me??)

Guise (series) by @crispychrissy 

I haven’t read beyond the first part of this series but I’m so excited to read the next few parts and learn all the crazy things it seems Chrissy has planned. I love throwing a “monster” reader in with the boys.

Her Saviours (series) by @bamby0305 

I will never not recommend this series rewrite. Amber is doing an excellent job working the A/B/O dynamics and the reader into the plot of the show.

Cat and Mouse (oneshot) by @bamby0305 

This. Is. My. Jam. I fucking love Meg and this fic is just so dark and gritty and good.

You Never Say Red (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss 

Gimme all the soft Dom!Sam and aftercare. Sam is the sweetest bby.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[eldritchsurveys]

641.

Would you convert to a different religion if your fiancé/fiancée was of a different faith? >> Fortunately, this was never an issue. Even if she did have a religion, there’s no obligation for me to share it. I tend to be the one interested in religions (although the jury’s still out on whether I’d ever actually feel comfortable adopting one).

The world is ending, and you can save one group of five people: who would be the five people that you save? >> First of all, if the “world is ending”, then I do not want to be stuck as one of the six humans left to deal with the aftermath and trying to survive in an inhospitable landscape. Also, this is just way too implausible a situation for me to take seriously.

Is happiness a delusion? Is happiness only real when shared? Why or why not? >>The idealisation of happiness is a bit delusional, I guess, but it’s a shared, social delusion -- just look at all the “wellness” “self-help” “self-care [the “buy this thing” kind, not the real, practical kind]” nonsense being peddled to us on a daily basis. Any feeling that is not happy-cheery forced positivity is aberrant and pathological and has to be “fixed”. That’s not a healthy way to think, and I hate that we’re all made to feel that way about perfectly normal ass emotions. I don’t know if happiness is only real when shared. I’ve always had someone(s) Inworld to share my happinesses (and everything else) with, so I can’t speak as to what it’d be like if I didn’t.

What would the cover of your biography (presumably written by somebody else who never knew you, postmortem) look like? >> I... really have no idea.

Write about a really good or creative Tumblr URL that you see frequently on your dashboard. >> inflagrante-delicatessen is a funny one.

If swear words were not things like “shit” and “fuck” what would they be otherwise? >> That’s, like, impossible for me to predict.

Write a very vivid description of what is/would have been your most perfect way to lose your virginity. What is your exact definition of ‘losing your virginity’? Also: will you/would you have liked to save your virginity for marriage? Why or why not? >> I don’t really care about this, you know? It’s not like if my first experience was earth-shattering, it would have somehow made up for all the horrible experiences I had later. I don’t have a definition for “losing one’s virginity” because that’s not a phrase I like to use. I don’t like making a point of dividing people’s experiences into “before sex” and “after sex” to begin with, but also, just focusing on a certain kind of sexual act as a “goal” to reach or whatever is... kind of weird to me. The whole shit is just weird the more I think about it.

Write a six-word fortune cookie. >> I’d rather not.

Why do you think eyebrows exist? >> I don’t have a hypothesis about this, but I’m sure there’s some educated theories out there if I was ever curious (right now, I am not).

If you could only have one contact on your phone, who would it be? >> Sparrow is the only person whose phone number I actually use on a regular basis, so, her.

Your bucket list is limited to three items. >> I don’t have a bucket list, period.

Do you wake up first or do you open your eyes first? >> I assume that I wake up first, and then open my eyes? But maybe it’s the other way around, what do I know.

Write a love/thank you/appreciation letter to someone you take for granted. >> No.

What makes you feel infinitely sexy? >> Can Calah makes me feel sexy. King Crimson makes me feel sexy. Sexiness isn’t something I feel outworld.

Make a video and talk about something for two minutes. Anything. And don’t edit out any parts of it. >> Uh, no.

Write a poem you’d stick on a refrigerator. >> Also no.

Are you afraid of aging? Why? >> I’m not afraid of ageing. I actually look forward to seeing what the rest of my life will bring, especially internally. What I am afraid of is infirmity, degenerative illness, that sort of thing. I’m afraid of losing my personal quality of life. (I know there’s a lot to unpack in regarding one’s quality of life as diminished if one develops a physical disability or something, because people live full lives with those things all the time. But I cannot predict how a change of that magnitude would affect me, personally, and I worry that I will not be able to adapt.)

Describe one time you basically thought you were the shit, when your self-confidence was soaring through the roof. This is meant to be a positive thing. >> Hm. I can’t remember a time like that right now.

If there was one person you could get drunk with and kiss and then later blame it on alcohol, who would it be? >> I would not do that.

Does perfection exist? If the word perfection did not exist, what word would be in its place? What would perfection mean instead? >> I guess the concept exists, at least. I don’t know if it’s something I can measure and perceive.

The next book you see that has over 300 pages, open up to page 136. Find a sentence you like, copy it down, and then write about it. >> I don’t feel like getting up to grab a book.

Who makes you laugh the most? >> ---

What is one thing that you are proud of, that you think lacks praise/lacks appreciation from the people around you? It could be a simple thing; it could be a secret thing. >> I don’t really seek appreciation from the people around me, so I don’t know.

If you could accuse somebody of being fake/a bitch and not suffer any repercussions, who would you accuse, and how would you do it? >> I’d really rather not. What even would be the point?

What is the funniest one-liner Tumblr text post you’ve ever read? >> Dude, there are so many funny ass posts on this website. I collect them at @officialaynrand.

Rewrite a verse of lyrics from your favorite song. They have to sound good when you sing it out loud along to tune of the song. >> Nope. But I will say that my brain insists on hearing the “heavy metal broke my [heart]” line in Fall Out Boy’s Centuries as “heavy metal Pokémon” and even though I know the lyrics I still sing it like that because it just kills me every time.

If the SATs/grades did not exist, in what way should colleges/teachers evaluate applicants? >> I have no suggestions.

Do you feel at home in your home? Is home a place for you? A book? A thing? A person? What would you want your home to be? >> I feel at home in Xibalba. I feel at home in my room here in the apartment, too. But I guess I’d feel equally at home in any place as long as I have a room of my own, a controlled environment that belongs solely to me.

Write your own eulogy. >> “Mordred Shadow Lastname wishes to inform us, the gathered, that it is just as surprised by this turn of events as we are. Except it actually isn’t surprised, or anything else, because It’s too busy being dead. Surprisingly. The unbelievably-deceased would like to request that if someone asks how it died, it will haunt whoever dares to say something stupid like ‘natural causes’. Make up a good story or pass the mic to someone who will.” Dunno what else I’d put in a eulogy about myself. That’s not really for me to write, anyway. Funerals are for the living, they can write the damn thing.

What is something you felt like you deserved or should have belonged to you, but you never got? >> There is nothing I feel that way about.

Do you feel ‘connected to nature’? Do you frequent outside? Do you believe that a connection with the earth we live on is necessary in the first place? >> I mean... I love to be outdoors, but I also love to be in a server room. I feel the same sense of awe and connection in both settings. For me, there is no real difference between the organic states and the transmuted states of matter. It’s all matter, innit? I don’t believe that feeling connected to Earth is necessary. I believe it’s healthy, sure, and common, but I don’t believe it’s unhealthy to not have that connection, or to feel connected to something else instead. It’s possible that some future generation of Homo sapiens will be born on another planet. What happens to that supposedly-innate “connection to the Earth” then? (Will they feel connected to their home planet instead? Or, something else? Or, nothing?)

Your opinion on oral sex? >> I don’t have an opinion on it, exactly. Just a preference: I prefer not to give or receive it. That’s all.

If one TV show could be real, which one would you want it to be? Which one would screw our world over? >> That is a complex question with a lot of variables and I don’t think I feel like devoting mental energy on it right now.

How many kinds of love are there? >> I… don’t know? As many kinds as people can conceive, I imagine. Or maybe it’s all just one kind, with different expressions. *shrug*???

Which word needs to exist (or be used again)? >> I mean, if I thought a word should be used again, I’d just use it. That’s literally how it works. If it’s been phased out completely enough that no one remembers it and it’s not recorded anywhere, then I can’t want it back, because I’d have to know a thing used to exist in the first place in order to want it to exist again.

What is the absolute hardest thing about staying alive? >> This pesky nag called “death” that keeps asking, “are we there yet?!” from the backseat.

What is a book that has been recognized as ‘great literature’ that you dislike? Why? >> Oh, I don’t know. The only time I ever read “Literature(tm)” was in high school, so I don’t know how I’d feel about any of it now. I'm just not really interested in it.

What is one change that you would make/have made to your life that will make/has made it better? >> *shrug*

Is everything you do for yourself? Can you truly be selfless? >> No, not everything I do is solely for myself. I do things for others as well. But I don’t like doing things for others if doing so threatens my quality of life, survival, or mental health. I don’t think it’s possible for a human being to act without a single note of self-interest. I mean... isn’t the survival instinct an instinct of self-interest?

Are you the same person you were two and a half years ago? >> I’m not the same person I was a second ago. (I also am not the same person I was about... 5 or so years ago, but that’s a... different thing.)

Can you possibly conquer the labyrinth? >> What labyrinth? Jareth the Goblin King’s? I’d try my best to conquer it if only to get to dance in the ballroom scene with him.

As a hyper intelligent pan-dimensional being, what is the answer to the ultimate question, the life, the universe and everything? What is the ultimate question? >> The ultimate question is obviously “how the fuck does CatDog poop?”