#how long will it take for him to get to 20k coins

[sweet-potato-42]

cant wait for ACAU to jpin tomorrow and just see tubbo on the side grinding coins like crazy desperate to unlock create mod

or maybe he'll already have unlocked it and will actually just be doing like 12 hours streams all the time

Unfortunate with the way tubbo streams even when doign super long streams he wont be live at the time a korean streamer would be on lmao

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART NINE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: family trauma/lore

Notes: TSOTSC finally reached 20k words, yippee!

PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN | NAVIGATION

Azrael looked at the female angel beside him, noticing the lovestruck expression on the girl's face. He looked at her with a deadpanned expression, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Azrael's deep black eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a light blond haired short male angel with rosy spots on his cheeks, Lucifer. Azrael grimaced, watching as Lucifer talked with Michael, Lucifer's twin brother.

Azrael can hear a satisfied sigh left [Y/n]'s lips, Azrael still doesn't know why the girl is so lovestruck with the guy. Lucifer's curiosity is a looming threat, everyone in the high council of angels can feel it but they can't do anything about it as the said angel hasn't done anything yet.

Azrael sighs, grabbing the cloud pillow off the couch so he could sit beside her, the cushioned seat sinking as he sat down. He nudges her, catching her attention.

“I still don't understand what you see on that guy.” he deadpans at her and [Y/n] rolls her eyes at the taller male.

“Do you want me to take out my 50 slide presentation again on why I like him so much?” [Y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow and Azrael flinched, raising his hands in defeat.

“No, thank you.” He mumbled, shuddering as he remembers the time she presented those slides to him, which he still didn't understand why she liked the boy so much. He was zoned out during all of the presentation.

Azrael sighs, chest heavy and tight. He doesn't understand why. The thought of his best friend getting married to someone else hurt for some reason.

“Make sure you won't regret it, you're getting married to him soon.” He deadpans and [Y/n] just laughed, “I won't. He won't do anything to hurt me.” she said confidently.

Azrael rolls his eyes playfully, “You seem confident with that statement.”

[Y/n] scoffs playfully, “Because I know him.”

“Do you really know him?” Azrael retorts back, raising an eyebrow at her. [Y/n] flinches slightly, Azrael is right. She's still 25 years old and so is Lucifer, they're both very young. They still have lots to learn about each other.

It doesn't matter, Lucifer loves her and she loves him back. They have an entire eternity to know each other.

With a long exhale, she turned to look at Azrael, “Maybe I may not know him entirely but I will be able to.”

Azrael just sighs, shaking his head, “Whatever you say [n/n], but if he does something... Don't tell me I didn't tell you so.” he chuckled and [Y/n] rolls her eyes playfully at him, nudging Azrael playfully.

“Hey, I know him. He's my best friend and we've known each other the moment we existed.”

Azrael scoffs playfully at her words, “Who knows? People change.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. [Y/n] avoided his gaze and turned to look back at Lucifer who seems to notice her.

Lucifer gave her a wink and a charming smile, sending her a kiss to her way causing for her to blush and giggle.

Azrael rolled his eyes at the scene.

“They do and I hope he changes to become a better version of himself.”

After getting married to Lucifer, life felt good. Lucifer treated her so well, bringing her flowers everyday, giving her affections in every chance he gets.

Everything was fine until God created the first ever humans, [Y/n] knows how much of a curious man Lucifer is, naturally, he went out to observe them.

It created cracks in their relationship.

Lucifer began to go home later than usual, occasionally forgetting to give her affections.

And their topics—his topics have now shifted to God's newly created creature, a woman named Lilith.

[Y/n] had to endure the pain and heartache as she listens to her husband talk so fondly about the woman, complimenting Lilith in every possible chance he gets.

But nevertheless, [Y/n] remained to have confidence in him. Choosing to trust him, he is her husband after all. They've been together for many eons, she knows him.

Does she?

No, she doesn't.

Especially on what she's currently witnessing, [Y/n] hid between a large tree in the garden of Eden. She had the urge to check up on Lucifer, her instinct was screaming for her to do so.

Her nails are buried in the bark of the tree, ichor flows out of her fingertips as she tries to prevent a sob from escaping her lips. The wooden sensation of the wood against her fingertips, the stinging pain of the scratched skin of the tips of her fingers is what she felt.

With the additional sensation of the aching feeling that came from where her heart lies.

Warmth slid down her cheeks, bringing her gold covered fingertips to feel her skin.

Tears, the tears never seem to stop running down her beautiful yet sorrowful face.

Her eyes locked on to her husband, Lucifer—who looked at Lilith with so much affection in his eyes as he held the woman's hand.

‘Why... Why is he looking at her like how he used to look at me...?’

[Y/n] asked herself repeatedly in her mind. Each word got louder and louder on her mind, and each time she did, pain became more apparent to her internal voice as she asked herself in anguish.

‘Move... I need to leave... Move [Y/n]!’ she cried to herself, her mind screaming for her to leave. To save herself from even more heartbreak.

Yet, she remained still. Eyes fixed on the two.

Her hands slapped over her mouth to prevent sobs from escaping her plump and soft lips, eyelashes fluttering and glistening with tears. Warm sunlight filtering through the strands of her eyelashes, making the redness around her eyes more prominent.

Dull [e/c] eyes blankly staring at the two—her husband and a different woman.

Despite its dullness, her eyes were filled with anguish.

Tired, dull, and swollen.

No longer bright, hopeful, and happy. It's now filled with sorrow, and unimaginable heartache. Something an angel like her shouldn't feel. Yet, Lucifer Morningstar made that possible.

[Y/n] watches as her husband caresses Lilith's face, so affectionately.

Something she didn't experience from him lately.

“You're so beautiful.”

She heard him mutter to Lilith with a voice that carried so much emotion, it was enough to shatter her heart to tiny million pieces.

Finally gathering enough strength, she finally released herself from where she stood. Finally allowing herself to move, flying away swiftly and discreetly.

A single feather was what was left of where she once stood.

She arrived at her shared home with Lucifer, quickly locking herself inside their bedroom.

Her body slouches against the door as she slowly slides down to the floor.

Painful sobs left her lips, shoulders shaking as she buried her face into her hands.

‘No, no, no, no, no... I must be seeing things... Lucifer can't just fall in love with someone that easy...’ she laughs to herself, voice cracking and trembling as she did so.

Shaking her head as she desperately tries to make herself believe her own words.

“This must be a misunderstanding, that's right... I'll ask him when... When he comes back...”

She says to herself, voice lowering to almost a whisper.

‘That is... If he comes home...’

She thought sadly, supporting her shoulder on to her knees, burying her face into her arms. Strands of her hair falling off to the side of her face,  framing the heartbreaking picture of the face that belongs to a heartbroken angel.

‘He can't just... Leave me like that... He can't just break our vows.’

She thought to herself, her hands rubbing her sides for comfort.

She only has herself to comfort herself, her husband isn't here after all.

“When he comes back, the two of us will have a proper and mature conversation... I hope.” she says to herself weakly, picking herself up from the floor. Knees tremble from the weight of her emotions, chest filled with pain and heartache. She can barely breathe, she wonders if she was still breathing.

She felt like a walking corpse.

Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her dress, the soft material of her dress providing comfort to her swollen and aching eyes.

She dragged herself across the room, finally approaching the full length mirror just by their closet.

She can see how much of a mess she is. Eye bags underneath her eyes, tear streaks evident on her cheeks, her hair a mess. Pale skin and chapped lips from severe dehydration from how much she cried.

‘Is that me...?’ She asked herself, finally processing what she's seeing, finally coming to the realization that the figure in the mirror is her own reflection.

She can barely recognize herself, she doesn't look like that. She doesn't remember looking so tired and so... Sad and pathetic.

‘This wouldn't do, I don't want Lucifer to see me like this..’ she thought to herself sadly, the face of Lilith flashing in her mind.

Lilith, the first ever human woman. Of course, someone as beautiful as her would be someone Lucifer would fancy.

[Y/n] couldn't help but compare herself to the woman. Lilith has bright and blemish pale skin, hers were a sickly kind of pale.

Lilith has bright and hopeful eyes, hers are dull and sad.

Lilith has a beautiful and blemish free face, hers are tired and dark bags are underneath her eyes.

[Y/n] shakes her head, getting rid of the negative thoughts that filled her mind.

“Stop that, Lucifer loved you just the way you are.” she says to herself, yet doubt was evident in her voice.

‘Loved. That's right, he probably doesn't love me anymore.’

She shakes her head once more, ‘Stop that, he hasn't told us that yet... So I shouldn't say something like that...’

‘I'll just clean myself first, make myself presentable. In case he ever comes home.’

She says to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom to freshen up.

He never came home that day.

She lies on their shared bed, coming to that realization as the clock finally hit one in the morning. The bed was cold and lonely, the warmth that was usually beside her isn't present.

Closing her eyes, allowing the tears to glide down her pale cheeks, the tears staining the pillowcase of her pillow.

Past memories flash on her mind, memories of where Lucifer and her were still happy and in love.

“You are my best friend, the love of my life... I am so lucky to be called yours.” Lucifer says to her, kissing her forehead.

They were still teens in love, young and stupid but in love.

“You are so cheesy, stop saying cheesy things you're making me flustered.” she giggles as he twirls her around, bits of the clouds around them fluttering due to their movements.

Lucifer giggles, dipping her effortlessly and presses his forehead against his, “But it's my job to make you flustered, darling.”

She giggles, pink dusting her cheeks, “I love you, Lucifer.”

“I love you too, darling.”

She cried herself to sleep that night.

She sat on the couch of their living room, the early sunlight filtering through the large windows of their home, giving their home some warmth. The warmth makes her forget the coldness of her skin and the numbness of her heart.

Her head whipped to the sound of the door being opened, lo and behold, her husband finally came home.

Her eyebrows furrowed, eye twitching. She was aching to snap at him but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.

“Lucifer, where have you been?” she asked softly, voice cracking and trembling in each syllable.

Lucifer flinches, jumping slightly from surprise. He was surprised to hear his wife's voice. He didn't expect her to be awake so early in the morning.

He gave her a nervous smile, “Darling, why are you awake so early?” he asked, [Y/n] just continuously tapped her feet against the marble tiles.

“Enough of that, I know you have been spending time with that human.” she says softly and Lucifer's eyes widened, avoiding his wife's eyes because of guilt.

“It's part of my job, love—”

“Stop lying to me, Lucifer Morningstar.” she snaps, eyes glaring at him, “I didn't know telling her that she's beautiful is part of the job? Might I also include... Caressing her face? Was that part of the job? Tell me, Lucifer...”

“Are you tired of me...?” she asked softly, and Lucifer's eyes saddened.

“No, no, no... I can never be tired of you...” he says softly, he's unsure if he's lying to himself or not. But he desperately tries to believe that he's not tired of her. Yes, he still loves her... Right?

He doesn't know the answer to that.

“Then why...?! Why are you spending the majority of your time with her?!” she screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she grips her hair. She swore she ripped some strands but she's too much in pain to care.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by her outburst.

“Because I'm trying to make her feel better because Adam hasn't been good to her and I hope you can find it in your heart to care for her just a little.” he says softly, remembering the things Lilith told him, how Adam was mean to her.

[Y/n]'s eye twitch, the nerve. Why would she care about her?

“Why would I care about her?!” she asked angrily, and Lucifer frowned, “Because I care about her.” he says honestly, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Morning, noon, and night I care about her, yet you cannot spare a single sympathy for her.”

[Y/n] was taken aback, the first time sensing such hostility from him. Her husband defending another woman when all she ever asked from him is his time, some time for her.

“I'm just asking why you're spending so much time with her! I am your wife, Lucifer... I need you too!” She exclaimed, her voice cracking in anguish, “You're barely home anymore and it's getting unbearably lonely in our house, I missed you so, so much... Please.. I need you.”

“For heaven's sake, [Y/n]... Lilith just existed and she's scared and confused and Adam is also not treating her right! She needs someone.” He sighs, blue eyes looking at tired [e/c] ones, he would've asked for her forgiveness for his tone, but he was blind with the sense of duty towards Lilith. He couldn't think straight. Neither of them can.

“So stop being selfish, I'll come back when you have cleared your head, okay...?” he says softly yet a tinge of sharpness in his voice, turning around to leave, his heels clicking against the marbled tiles in each step he took.

The sound of the door clicking as he closed it brought her back to reality.

Her legs gave out as she fell into the cold hard marble floor, kneeling like heaven's first ever sinner. Her sin? Falling in love with heaven's most beautiful angel.

Blinking, she tries to process what just happened.

She and Lucifer just had their very first fight, and she doesn't know how to process it.

‘Azrael was right, I really don't know him at all.’

She thought to herself sadly, wiping her tears with her wrist before a broken sob escaped her lips once more.

She was left alone crying to herself in an empty, cold, and lonely house.

Days passed by, both Lucifer and [Y/n] were ignoring each other, unsure how to approach the other.

[Y/n] remained unmoving in their bed, all alone and cold. It's been so long since she last took care of herself.

“I feel so tired and weak... Heaven's... I feel like I'm about to pass out.” she murmured weakly, turning around to look at the empty spot of her shared bed with Lucifer, to see the said man to be nowhere in sight. He hasn't been home for a few days now.

‘I am so tired... Maybe I should rest for a bit...’ she thought, her eyesight blurring from the lack of sleep, she kept waiting for Lucifer's return but the man was nowhere in sight.

She sighs sadly, her eyes drooping without notice.

She passed out.

She doesn't know how long she was asleep but the moment she woke up she was in Azrael's house, the man told her that she was asleep for days.

And also told her about the fall of both Lucifer and Lilith.

She still couldn't wrap her head around it, refusing to believe it.

Azrael sighs, taking a seat at the edge of the bed of where she was lying down.

“It's true, he and Lilith gave the apple to Eve... I'm afraid work is going to get much harder now that evil exists.” he spoke softly, eyes saddened as he looked at the downcast female.

He's wondering if this is the right time to tell her...

“And another thing... [Y/n]...?” he calls out softly to her, she looks at him with not a single light on her eyes.

“What is it...?”

“You're pregnant.” he says softly, [y/n]'s eyes widened.

“What...?”

[Y/n] gasped loudly as she sat up on the bed, her head whipping around to look at her surroundings.

She's back in her room, weren't she in hell before?

Her breathing was uneven, placing a hand over her chest to calm her fast beating heart.

‘Why now...? Why did the memory have to come back now...?’

Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pitiful sobs leaving her lips.

“Mom...?” a soft male voice calls out, the door to the room opening, the head of Xavier peeking through the small opening.

The boy's eyes widened when he saw his mother crying on her bed.

“MOM...?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT SOMEWHERE?!” he asked, immediately rushing to his mother's side, kneeling beside the bed.

[Y/n] shakes her head slowly, “I'm alright, I just got a bad dream...” she admitted softly, small hiccups leaving her lips.

Xavier's [e/c] eyes softened, grabbing a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket that he hasn't used yet, using it to wipe his mother's tears away.

“Do you wanna talk about it...?” he asked softly, his hands gently dabbing the soft cloth on [y/n]'s face, making sure to dry her tear stricken face.

“A little bit...” she says softly, smiling gently towards her son. Her eyes saddened even more, Xavier really looked like Lucifer.

“That's alright, don't pressure yourself mom.” Xavier spoke softly, standing up so he could sit at the side of the bed, leaning down to give a kiss on his mother's forehead.

She nodded and took a deep breath, “I dreamt... About your father.” she says softly and avoids her son's eyes.

Xavier's eyes widened, his shoulders dropping but decided not to speak and allowed his mother to talk.

“I dreamt of the past, how happy me and him were used to and now... I don't even know anymore.” she laughs bitterly.

Xavier's hand clenched slightly before relaxing, “It's not your fault mom...”

“I know.”

Xavier sighs softly, “Mom...?” he calls out softly to her, [Y/n] hummed.

“I think we need to talk about him now, it's a long overdue topic.” he says softly to her and she flinches but sighs.

He's right, she's been avoiding this topic for so many eons. It's time to talk about it.

She sighs softly, “You're right... I think we should.” and Xavier smiled, proud of her. He always has been.

[Y/n] remained seated on her bed, thumbs playing with each other. Xavier has already left to do his usual routine around the house.

Their conversation about Lucifer has already ended, she told him everything about what happened. Told him why she loves him so much and what he did to hurt her.

She told him how she and Lucifer were together for how many years before marrying each other, she told him the things that he did that made her love him.

And she just can't let go of her feelings for someone that she loved for so many eons. It's not that easy.

Even after all these years, she can't forget.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her hair cascading down to her face, framing the shape of her face perfectly. She turned her head to the side to look at the window, she could see the large backyard forest-like garden.

Knock, knock, knock.

Her head whipped in the direction of the knock, she turned to look at the door to see Michael standing and leaning against the door frame lazily.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, “Michael... What are you doing here??” she asked softly and Michael sighed as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“I came as I heard what happened, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. [Y/n] smiled and nodded, “Yes,I feel slightly a lot better now.”

Michael smiled though, his eyes still held a tinge of worry in them. He sighs, “[Y/n]... Do you want to stop this mission and let someone else do it?” he asked her softly and [Y/n]'s eyes widened.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this, Michael... Don't worry too much about me.” she says softly and Michael sighs once more.

“I'm just worried for you, everyone is.” he says sternly and [Y/n] frowns, “I know but I can assure you that I'm fine with doing this...”

Michael sighs once more, clearly already used to her stubbornness.

“If you say so,” he says softly before looking back at her once more, “—but if it's suddenly too much for you, don't hesitate to tell me okay?” he says sternly to her.

[Y/n] giggles softly, a small smile on her face, “Yes,I'll keep that in mind.”

Michael smiled and gave her a single nod, “You better.”

Michael's eyes widened, snapping his fingers as he seems to remember something, [Y/n] tilted her head at him, confused.

“I just remembered, Gabriel said she was gonna visit later.” he says deadpanning and [Y/n]'s lips tightened into a flat line, she gave Michael a deadpan, “Yay... I can't wait.” she says unenthusiastically.

Michael laughed softly and ruffled her hair, “I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad.”

“She's gonna lecture me again about how men are shit.” she says deadpanning at him as she remembers the times Gabriel kept on lecturing her about how Lucifer was just a man.

“That is so real, love that for her.” Michael says, nodding.

“Michael, you're a man.” [Y/n] says with a small smile while shaking her head with her eyes closed.

“Am I?”

[Y/n] turned to look at Michael... Who's now a woman now. She deadpanned at him, “Really?” She asked sarcastically with a small smile, Michael laughed out loud. His laughs reverberated around the room.

“I think I look gorgeous as one.” he says sassily, flipping his long blond hair behind his back.

[Y/n] giggled and Michael smiled, proud to make her happy.

“You're so silly, try wearing a maid dress next time.” she suggested playfully at him, giving him a wink.

“Don't push your luck.” he says deadpanning at her and she just laughs, holding her hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay... I won't.” she says in-between giggles.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Alright, alright... You seem to be feeling much better now,” he says standing up, giving her a small smile, “—I'll head out first, I still have some work that are needed to be finished.” he says with a long sigh.

[Y/n] giggles, “Alright then... Don't push yourself too much okay?” she says softly, her eyes looking at Michael with worry.

“I won't.” he says and she deadpans at him, “I know you're lying.”

“Shush.”

“I'll see you later, [N/n].” he says with a smile, [Y/n] smiled at him, “I'll see you later, Michael.”

“It's Michelle.” he says sassily once more, flipping his long blond hair dramatically making [Y/n] cackle, “Right... Michelle.. lmao.. I'll see you later, Michelle.” she says in-between snickers.

“Laterz girlfriend~” Michael says sassily as he left, transforming back to his male form as he did so.

[Y/n] was left alone in her room, but this time... She was laughing thanks to Michael.

© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.

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[calxprince]

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF (5)

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# CHAPTER 5 : Someone He Loved Once

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# notes : a beefier chapter than last time to apologize for the long wait!!!! happy 20k words to lotlt ♡ ( 6025 words )

-: ✧ :-゜・． MASTERLIST <- click me!

It's impossible to pick yourself back up when everything good about your life revolved around him.

was it unhealthy? yes

but you can't help it.

TO SAY THAT THE JOURNEY WAS BORING WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT— it was uneventful, dare you even say completely and utterly mundane. The never-ending corridors of plain, jagged, gray stone walls surround you as the scenery remains unchanging despite the hundreds of miles you have trudged on.

It has come to the point that your mind has coiled in on itself, where the even the smallest sights of slightly damp walls— or quite even the appearance of moss on the walls was enough to keep you entertained. Any slight change in the rigid texture and cracks in the walls were enough to bring you slight joy. You have begun to stray a good distance away from the rest of the party, taking your time running your fingers on the walls.

Mostly because you didn’t want to be hit in the face with the fact that you are now considered an outsider in regards to their party— as well as be faced to face with a clear view of Kabru from behind, chatting away with Rin.

So instead, you sought after lonesome comfort in the grooves of the wall.

Those miniscule changes in the terrain were the only landmarks to signal that, hey! You’re not running around in circles chasing after your own tail.

You are immensely grateful that someone had taken the time to hack and slash through the overgrown, poisonous tentacles that littered the spiral staircase between the floors. Without their efforts, you wouldn't have ever dared to venture below your usual rounds.

And then there were the frogs.

The enormous, very big, and I mean, very big frogs that inhabited this area.

You couldn't help but shudder at the sheer image of their bulging eyes and the almost neon color of their skin.  Why would you ever look at a frog that is basically neon orange and say— oh yeah! That’s perfectly fine to pass down here, with the orange frogs!

Shouldn’t it be basic knowledge at this point that the wilder, and more colorful something is, it’s most probably deadly?

Well, nothing about a dungeon is safe…

You find yourself torn between two intense emotions. On one hand, you want to shower the unknown adventurer who cleared the path with gratitude, for being the sole reason why you ever dared to venture down here. While on the other hand, there's a burning urge to skewer them with your staff and roast them over an open fire, cursing them for initiating this chaotic butterfly effect that led to your current situation.

 It was driving you insane.

You start to wonder why you ever bothered to become an eager adventurer of the dungeon, taking on extreme life or death risks for the sake of a couple of gems and coins— and even possibly nothing but the sweet satisfaction of taking down a formidable foe.

However, that sweet, delicious taste of victory was not enough to bring food to the table.

Could it be worth the satisfaction that came from telling your tales to other adventurers, to earn their respect? Forget about it.

Because despite how gruesome, treacherous and relentless your stories of your adventures are; they will always just be, and forever will be, tales to them. It could possibly score you a couple hears from the wandering children, with their awe-struck gazes and wild imagination— accompanied by promises and wishes of ‘I want to be just like you one day!’ before getting ushered away by their parents.

 The adults do try their best not to dampen their aspiring dreams, and childlike wonder but you could always tell their non-believing expressions.

However, the masses in hearing range of your tales tell a different story. They only bother to stifle a laugh using the palms of their hands, eagerly whispering to each other. Because, without proof of your vigilant victory; you are nothing but a made-up fool, full of nothing but tales pulled straight from your ass.

In short, you’re full of shit until you can prove it.

You would rather not drag an entire dragon corpse up to the surface, let alone its own skull. It’s too much labor, for a measly pat on the back.

A ‘Good Job!’ is not worth the possibility of you developing either a strain, scoliosis or carpal tunnel— or possibly even all three at once.

It was either, go big or go home.

Or die trying.

You sigh, softly shaking your head around like a tree wishing to drop the fruits of your worrying mind. Gaze drifting across to the rest of the party, who’s mundane conversations fall silent in your ears. You drag your feet reluctantly behind them, watching as your sluggish actions lead to a greater distance. Your usual skip, and pep to your step has long vanished— alongside the great desire for a fresh new adventure.

Your nails scratch at the rocky, rough walls. It left white, powdery streaks along the way. However, the sensation of the constant vibrations being sent through your fingertips quickly began to infuriate you.

You cringe at the feeling, quickly retracting your arm back to your sides— trying to shake off the icky feeling that floods though your skin.

Eerily slow footsteps trailed behind, accompanied by a low, guttural groan that seemed to vibrate through the air. You anxiously patted around your stomach, wondering if your gut was busy (and noisy) complaining. You haven’t necessarily stopped to eat for a good while, so it wasn’t that outrageous for it to suddenly grumble.

However, the sound was unsettling, and you clenched your teeth out of sheer embarrassment, eyes darting towards the rest of the party. They were still a decent distance away, so you crossed your fingers and swore on your heart, hoping they didn’t hear a thing.

Why was it so loud? It echoed, not feeling the typical shake and waver in your stomach as it continued. How long as it really been since you last ate? Minutes? Hours? Days?

Luckily, they all seemed completely unaffected by the sudden sound. It would’ve been shocking— and extremely embarrassing— if they heard your stomach from that far away.

Also, were your footsteps always that dense sounding? You halt for a second, looking below at your footwear— taking a few experimental taps on the floor, and possibly trying a couple of tap-dancing moves that you saw in front of a saloon once.

…

If you were the one up on that stage, you would’ve ended up walking away in shame while covered head to toe in tomatoes.

You stop before anyone ends up becoming the unfortunate fool who turns around and becomes the witness of your… undesirable dance moves. God, what would Kabru think if he saw you?

Disregard that. He’s already, and very unfortunately, been the unlucky witness to your dancing. Back when the music and gleeful chatter of the local festivals was just about enough to get you moving and knocking on his door—wearing your best, flowy attire for the occasion.

 You dragged him out to the central area of the village, your hand clasped around his wrist, looking back occasionally to smile at him out of sheer excitement. The village square was alive with vibrant colors, the scent of blooming flowers mingling with the aroma of freshly baked goods. Lanterns hung overhead, casting a warm, golden glow on the cobblestone streets.

The music alone suddenly made you want to jump around with glee, stomping around with the little grace you had.

 You couldn't ever forget his face when you first turned your head over your shoulder. You were too busy in your own little world when you tugged him away, but Kabru...

 Oh, Kabru.

He was the most beautiful sight you have ever seen in your entire life.

 Not even the greenest, vastest, and prettiest of valleys full of flowers for miles could rival his face in that moment. Everything stopped; it was as if time and space itself had unanimously agreed to pause for him and him only.

He looked at you, and only you. From his gaze alone, it spoke millions of words. It was a whole confession in itself.

 His eyes were wide, mouth agape, his hair perfectly tussled by the wind, the sun shining bright into his eyes. His cheeks were flushed with a delicate blush, a stark contrast to the golden glow of the setting sun.

 Kabru was like a painting brought to life; a piece of art that is timeless through decades, one that requires to preserved and passed down through generations— due to his beauty alone.

He was being tugged around by his heartstrings, twiddled with by your gentle fingers. His breath hitched with every step, his awe-stricken gaze never leaving your figure despite every stone or pebble he trips up on.  

…

It served as a painful reminder that once in your life, Kabru loved you for you. For the sake of breathing the same air as you— for the sake of merely existing with you. No matter how rough around the edges you are, no matter who you were.

He still loved you once.

Even when you barely knew how to waltz, despite the sheer confidence you had at the beginning as you tugged him toward the heart of the village, joining the bustling crowd full of dancing townspeople.

Even when he had the whole dance engraved in his brain for all his life, he still offered a genuine smile to you as you tumbled and staggered around. His eyes would crinkle at the corners, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, as he watched you fumble with the steps.

Even when your disorganized feet ended up crushing his own under your shoes, or when you fell forward and crashed into his chest after another couple pushed you from behind—he still smiled. His hands, deliberate and gentle, would take yours and guide you through the dance. The warmth of his touch sent chills down your spine, steadying you, grounding you.

He chuckles as he twirls you around by your waist, watching as you struggle to keep up with the pace— but still catching you with his hand pressed into the dip of your back.

Kabru’s patience was infinite, his laughter a consistent cushion to your embarrassment. His presence alone was a comforting.

His eyes downturned, with a gentle and gleeful air to him. The scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh, cool evening air, which almost drove you insane. One that made you want to kiss him, over and over until his lips turn blue— dragging him by his cheeks towards you until you end up tumbling all over the floor.

Even when the world felt chaotic and your steps were unsure, Kabru’s love was a constant.

He accepted you, not just as his partner, not just as a friend— but accepted you as a person.

He found beauty in your flaws.

But only once.

For now, he has seen the ugly in your flaws.

And you have, too.

Due to you dwelling on your miserable daydreaming, you ended up taking slower and fewer steps than usual. The groans, the dense footsteps that stagger with each step— they don’t stop.

Instead they grow closer,

louder.

Until a pair of hands dig into your shoulders, or more so, whatever is left of its rotten, foul-smelling fingers. The stench surpassed any smell you had ever had the displeasure of smelling. The nails are unruly and unkempt, some already lost to the relentless rot, leaving behind raw, exposed patches of skin on the fingers. It made you gag, feeling it’s intense grip onto your shoulders.

You yelp, lunging forward as you frantically shrug off its deathly grip. Your feet stagger as you began falling forward— your hands catching the floor in front of you in a swift motion. Using your staff for support, you desperately push yourself back onto your feet, twisting your body to face the ghoul. You stagger, feeling yourself struggling to breathe.

 The body it had inhabited was rotten beyond recognition, so decayed that it seemed on the verge of becoming a skeleton. The skin had peeled and melted away, revealing patches of bone beneath. You doubt that the corpse contained any vital organs anymore; it was just a miserable skeleton wrapped in whatever is left of its skin.

With enough fear and adrenaline to kill a man, you raise your staff just high enough to aim straight at its chest. Your grip is firm, though your mind is frazzled beyond measure. Your hands thrust the wooden staff forward, with enough force for it to push against its chest and scoot it backwards. It lets out a loud groan as  you twist it deeper, the sound of fragile bones and skin being crushed beneath it.

 With a quick blast from your staff, it separates the ghost from the unfortunate victim.

The force of the sudden attack was enough to send you flying, you may have overreacted a little. Using an attack meant for larger crowds of more, formidable foes.

Actually, you overreacted a lot.

It only set in fully once you saw yourself inches from the ground, feet set free in the air.

You hit the rough floor with a skidding thud, groaning as you watch the ghost dissipate into the air. The body it had previously possessed falls forward, with an echoing thud. You lie there for a moment, catching your breath, your heart still racing from the encounter.

Your face contorts into disgust as you stare at the dead body only inches away from your feet. You use your staff to gently push its face away from letting its empty eye sockets stare back at you, however you soon regret the decision.

The push resulted in a loud cracking noise, which made you wince and scoot away from your current position.

‘Did I end up breaking its neck…?!’ You panic internally.

“Are you okay?” A frantic shriek rips through the air, alongside the quick thud of footsteps that suddenly crowd around you. It was almost cartoonish, to say the least— like mice to a piece of cheese.

Except you’re the cheese that didn’t bother checking your surroundings, despite the obvious sound cues that there was something trailing behind you. You began skimming through the contents of your brain to look out for a good excuse as to why you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings.

When… That was basically your whole job and responsibility after you chose to stay a great distance behind the party.

“Yeah, just fine. I just got caught off guard, is all.” You try to cushion the throbbing pain in your spine and bottom with gentle laughter, waving your hand around in the air to swat away their worries. It didn’t help to ease their concerned expressions, instead worrying them even more as their frowns and confused faces worsen.

You didn’t bother dwelling on their general reaction, however…

You couldn’t get yourself to ignore the fact that Kabru was the first one to come running to you.

You couldn’t shake off the chill in your spine either, when he suddenly slowed down to trail behind the rest of the party before he could get too close.

‘Curse you, Kabru and your stupid mixed signals …!’

“That was definitely far from ‘just caught off guard,’ with that powerful of a blast, you could’ve ended up wiping out an entire army of ghouls...!” Rin gawks at your nonchalant behavior, overriding her usual scowl etched onto her face. Her eyebrows soften, turning upwards as she leaves her jaw wide open. She was genuinely concerned. Which honestly shocked you more than the ghoul did.

Maybe she should keep the scowl.

She is way too beautiful when she isn’t scowling.

“I do admit that I overreacted to the situation.” You flutter your eyes shut, chuckling. “But to be honest, I just got really shocked when it suddenly grabbed me.” Your gaze averts away from their prying eyes, your nails digging and scratching the soft skin in the nape of your neck.

You really, really wished that you hadn’t defended yourself in that moment. Instead, you wished that you had instead been killed by that same ghoul.

Just so you wouldn’t have to sit there pathetically as they all stared at your embarrassed misery. You understood their concern, but it honestly tore you into shreds as your whirring mind fed more and more degrading comments into your self-conscious.

And you hated it.

You hated every second of it.

It was no secret to you that you had always secretly wished to find yourself in this exact situation. The strange, deep warmth in your heart grew stronger when they gather around you. Their concerned gazes, the way their lips curved downwards in worry, and their comforting grasps that made your heart race. Alongside that one stare that pierced through you, reaching down to your very bones.

You once secretly yearned to be vulnerable in front of them, to finally command their undivided attention. It was a bittersweet wish that you, unfortunately, craved deeply during those lonely nights.

But once it finally happened to you, the feeling of déjà vu was sickening. It was bitter and distasteful, a moment that only filled you with raged as they all caught you red handed with your tail between your legs (and your unfortunately sore butt cheeks). It made you angry, and it makes you so much more frustrated not knowing why.

Could it have been the possibility of them doubting you?

Could it have been you interpreting their concern as them looking down on you?

Or could it all just have been the look on Kabru’s face?

This distant gaze, unreasonably unreadable and filled with stoic indifference— stayed monotone throughout the entire time. His lips pressed into a firm, unyielding line. His eyes half-lidded, unfocused as it represented his evident detachment as he stared down below to look at your form sprawled out on the cold floor. Though buried in the crowd of others, his presence lingering in the back, he still stood out the most.

With what little time you allotted for yourself to stare, you still found yourself digging around his cold expression— desperate to get a taste of, even a sliver of concern on his face.

…

And to your, fortunate?

…Unfortunate?

Let’s stick to unfortunate.

…

To your unfortunate dismay, you did.

The typical person would have never read through his stoic expression right in the moment, nor even put too much thought into his— currently irrelevant— presence.

But you?

Oh, you could see right through him. Beyond all his superficial 'people-pleaser, number one manipulation tactic' masks that he uses to puppet himself through and into people’s hearts, there was always a sliver of a crack that you could stare into.

That one figurativecrack you always seemed to be drawn to, one that dug in so deep that it leads straight into his heart and soul.

You can’t seem to stop yourself from diving back into old habits.

You found yourself lost in the maze of conflicting emotions swirling within the deep hue of his eyes. His intense, half-lidded eyes locked onto yours with an almost desperate focus— lost in time and in the deep sea of your own gaze.

His lips quivered but only slightly. One that made you think that he had the urge to speak out, to ask if you’re okay. But his voice falls silent by his tongue, full of words that never seem to dare go past his lips.

Kabru’s face, oh his face.

His eyes downturned and heavy with unspoken words, softened the moment you met his stare, creating an unspoken connection that lingered in the air between you.

It made you so irrationally angry.

It made you want to curse at the gods above for ever granting you the ability to connect with him more than anyone else would. The ability to read and break through his charades as the fool, and instead see him as himself.

It felt like a curse right in this moment.

But why?

Isn’t this what you had always wanted?

It was. It really was.

You hated that he still cared. You hated it so much. You hated it so much to the point that you wanted to kill him, to skin him— to gut him from the inside out. You wanted him to just explode right in that moment. The fact that he cared, and the fact that you’ll always and forever will know that he does.

...You hated how it made you feel.

You hated the sudden racing pace of your heartbeat, the way it rung in your ears like a distant drum. You hated the sudden numbness that possesses each nerve in your body, limb to limb. You hated the way your head spun, the way you couldn’t keep your eyes away from him.

You clench your teeth, lips sealed together to prevent yourself from baring them. Squeezing your eyes shut in desperation, opening them to keep your gaze locked onto anyone— anything but him.

Luckily, your eyes met with an outstretched palm— tearing your gaze away from the rigid floor, you found yourself looking into the concerned eyes of Holm.

His eyes were soft, reflecting a genuine worry that contrasted with the cold, unforgiving surroundings. You sighed, offering him a small, grateful smile before hesitantly placing your hand in his. With a firm tug, he helped you back onto your feet, his strength steadying you as you staggered back up.

As you dust yourself off free from any dirt, Holm provides you with a couple of pats in the dip of your back.

“But seriously though, how come you didn’t notice? If it was that close to you for it to be able to grab you, you should have heard it coming. I doubt it was that close in the first place …” Holm teases, shrugging his shoulders as he stares at you from the side. The rest of the party unanimously agree with his sentiment, suddenly growing more and more suspicious over your situation.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fumbling with the fabric of your shirt. “I was… lost in thought for a bit. I wasn’t paying too much attention to my surroundings, must be the fatigue getting to me.”

You look back down, flinching as your feet instinctively shuffle away from the lifeless body sprawled on the floor. The sight sends a shiver down your spine, an insatiable itch settling down your throat full of prickly unease. Goosebumps rise on your skin, the unsettling reality finally seeping into you. The body lies still and inanimate, haunting you.

“Is there any chance to… revive that guy?” Mickbell winces, taking a couple careful steps backwards. He accidentally backs up and into Kabru’s chest, who places his hands on his shoulders and gently redirects him.

"It's possible... but at this point, I doubt there's any hope for him. His bind to his soul is so weak, and his physical body is rotten beyond recognition. It would take a lot of calories and meat to basically rebuild all his missing parts, not to mention that he already feels hollow inside." You sigh, running your hand through the stray hairs that obscure your vision.

You use the butt of your staff to roll the corpse over to lay on its back, wincing at the thick ‘thump!’ sound that comes from the body. You deliberately pull back at the bottom of his shirt, rolling it upwards as the inner skeleton and ribs show itself to you. The organs are disgustingly missing.

"Putting him out of his misery is pointless since his soul will always stay trapped inside this dungeon. Taking him to the surface for a proper burial won't honor anything because we don't have anything to properly identify the body..." you mumble. You recall the pads of his fingertips, either completely lacking skin or scarred to the point of interfering with the fingerprints.

Mickbell shifts uneasily, rolling a pebble from beneath his boot. "So... we just leave him here then?" He grimaces, his expression worsening the longer he stares at the decaying body.

"Sounds like the best option. Though we should at least cast a ward on him, so he doesn't get possessed again by a ghost, and let's cast some on ourselves for protection," Kabru suddenly speaks up. His voice is calm but firm, acting as a beacon of hope to lift the spirits of his party members. It took every cell and atom in your body not to roll your eyes, hating how mature he has become in time.

Kabru suddenly turns his head to face Holm, eyes wide and expectant, the urgency evident in his gaze. His eyes dart back and forth between Holm and the body, as if silently pleading with the gnome to understand his wordless request. Kabru tilts his head subtly, giving a nudge in the direction of the corpse. It was obvious he didn’t want to ask you to place the charms, despite his endless knowledge of your capabilities.

However, Holm throws his hands in the air as he shrugs off the sudden implications. He plays it off, acting completely oblivious at his desperate pleas.

“What are you looking at me for?”

Kabru’s confident stance wavers, the corner of his eye twitches as he tries to redirect the situation into one he deems is correct. As he always did.  

“Holm. Don’t you know how to…?” His voice is hesitant, almost mirroring a shaking fist as his soft voice tries to carry over the urgency and weight of the situation to Holm.  

“Huh? No, absolutely not. I’m not at all knowledgeable about those kinds of spells. If I tried, I’d probably end up casting a spell that attracts spirits to the body instead of warding them away,” Holm comments with a nonchalant shrug, his tone casual and dismissive. He rides off Kabru’s growing frustration with amusement.

It was a priceless moment, and you couldn't help but chuckle as you watched Kabru struggle to maintain his composure. You could almost see the exasperation radiating off him, picturing him internally throwing his head back, hands pressed to his face, and groaning in sheer frustration. The contrast between Holm's relaxed attitude and Kabru's barely contained and growing irritation was comical.

“Aren’t you like, a gnome? You’re the second leading race in the growing studies of magic education.” Kabru barks back, his polite tone wavering under the frustration. He grits his teeth beneath his smile, as if by saying that— Holm would magically learn the spell for it with the snap of his fingers. Or a page from your old grimoire would fall out, and Holm would read it for the 10 seconds it would be on the floor— then learn it.

“Hey, just because I am gnome doesn’t mean I should know everything!” Holm rebuked, a soft pout spreading on his lips as he did. He spreads his palms out, arms pressed as he waves his hands in defense for his lack of knowledge in that area.

Kabru remains to smile, however it was quite obvious to everyone that it was fake. His technique at hiding his irritation was faltering the more he began desperate to turn this situation into a favorable one. You could sense the race to his impending defeat, just from the sight of his strained expression.

His neck crooked as he suddenly turns to Rin, almost as if he were on his knees as he looked at her with pleading eyes— a last minute attempt to spindle this situation back into the strings under his control. “How about you, Rin?”

Rin blushes, much to your dismay. Dismissively turning her face away from him, scowling as her gaze instead dives into the world of the mossy dungeon walls. In response, she tucks an arm under her chest— the other making itself busy as it twirls her long, jet-black hair.

“I’m only skilled at offensive magic. My healing is only as good as any beginner mage, just the basics.” She replied with a scoff, almost hinting that she wished she knew how— to be able to please Kabru and his desperate attempts to avoid you. If you were in her shoes in that moment, you would probably immediately fold and worship the ground he walks on.

Could you blame yourself for that though? As irritating his face could be, he looked so pathetic and desperate!

…

You cringe at your own thoughts.

“How about…” Kabru’s voice falters, his head snapping around in a frantic search. He locks eyes with Mickbell, then Kuro, and finally Daya, each of them turning their heads with a speed that seemed almost otherworldly. Daya crosses her arms in a firm ‘X’, her stance a clear, unspoken denial.

“Of course not,” Kabru mutters to himself, his frustration evident now. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed closed tightly as his eyebrows furrow, and lets out a long, exasperated sigh. His shoulders slump, and his hand rests on his hip as he begins to accept his defeat. It was clear now: there was no escape from you, and the weight of that realization settled heavily on him.

It all led back to you.

“C’mon! We finally got Y/N back in the party anyway, no need to worry about being harassed by ghouls. They know how to.” Mickbell threw his arms behind his back, walking up to Kabru to nudge him using his hip— trying to pull the male out of his defeated, slumped form.

“But...”

“No buts! The longer we take down here, the less time we have before another Ghoul pulls up on us!”

Kabru sighs. “Fine.”

His shoulders roll back into his typical confident stance, taking a deep breath for courage before finally looking back up at you. You’re dumbfounded, not thinking that the comedic scene would end up back into your hands like a… Game of ‘Hot Potato'.

You shuffle on your feet, feeling the sudden weight of responsibility on your shoulders. “So, Who’s first..?”

For some reason, the entire party (minus Rin, who seemed to have missed out on the memo) turns their heads toward Kabru in a perfectly choreographed movement. It was as if they had rehearsed this moment, their collective gaze ganging up on him on instinct.

Dare you even say, out of habit.

Rin, meanwhile, stands there looking dumbfounded, her eyes widening as she realizes she’s the only one still focused on you.

Kabru freezes, his face momentarily blank as he cushions his nervousness with a chuckle.

“No, no. I cannot…” he stammers, shaking his head vigorously in a futile attempt to dismiss the sudden peer pressure from his party members. His eyes dart around the hallway, searching desperately for an escape route.

“Daya! How about you? Ladies first!” Kabru exclaims, his voice dripping with desperation as he insists with a firm determination. He sprints behind the dwarven blonde, his hands gripping her shoulders. He shuffles her toward you, as if trying to nudge her into taking his place, his frantic actions seemingly feeding into Daya’s bemused expression.

“Don’t you al—” Daya starts, but is immediately silenced by his gloved hand. He laughs, trying to save himself by staring back into the other eyes of his teammates. Which, also made no impact as they all seemed to be unwilling.

Kabru groans internally, which he could curl up and die in that moment. Or, kill everyone and all possible witnesses to his vulnerable fear of interacting with you again.

Talking to you? Fine.

Looking at you? Fine.

You, touching him? He draws the line there.

But he can’t run away from the situation that he set up himself anymore. Instead he slumps his shoulders, dragging his feet as he makes his way in front of you. “Make it quick.” He whispers, aware of your tense shoulders.

You take a deep breath— your hands trembling slightly as you press your fingers against his forehead. The warmth of his skin contrasts sharply with the coldness of your touch, and you could feel him shiver beneath your palm. He squeezes his eyes shut, his hands clenching into tight fists as he tries to steady himself.

He could feel your breath on his face.

“Lifgant, Ardinbam” You mumble, feeling the soft tingle of mana flow through your veins and out your fingertips. To an outsider, it might seem like nothing is happening—no visible cues to indicate the spell's progress. Only the caster can truly understand what was going on, a magical sensation that could only ever be felt and remain unseen.

You hands lift off from the skin of his forehead, now instead firmly pressing up against his chest. Once you were sure that the blessing had been set in place properly, you gently halt the flow of mana, lifting your hands with a careful hesitation. Your fingertips graze over the worn leather of his chest plate, brushing lightly over his chest before withdrawing.

Your fingers curl back to your side, retreating from his chest with deliberate care. The subtle warmth of the magic lingers in the air, a faint, almost imperceptible residue of the spell’s power. As you let your hands fall, the delicate trace of magic remains, a barely-there whisper of the enchantment that has just been cast.

“All done,” you whisper, your voice breathless and soft. You take a step backward, your movement deliberate, allowing him the space he needs as you just partook in a… awfully weird and intimate moment with him.

Was it really though? You dare to question, but you can’t get yourself to ignore the roaring pang or desire that struck through your heart. Kabru hesitates in his movement, as if waiting for one last thing out of habit. You usually kissed him after. But, after keeping his stance and his eyes closed for a couple moments longer— he pulls away.

“Thank you,” Kabru slurred, his voice barely audible— it was gruff, as if all the saliva in his throat and mouth had dried up in that moment. He coughs, attempting to redo his comment to be able to say it smoothly in a second try.

“I mean, Thank you.” He echoes, meeting your gaze for a fleeting second before quickly turning away, retreating behind the others as if seeking refuge from the sudden vulnerability of the moment.

You extend a hand with a gentle wave, signaling for the next person in line to step forward. The gesture is both practical and reassuring, a silent invitation for them to come closer. Mickbell excitedly jumps up, almost completely compressing himself and scrunching his body mid-air— like a coiled spring. He almost stumbles over completely as he makes his way towards you, using his hand as a way to keep himself upright and avoid accidentally crashing into the floor.

The rest of the party, including you— chuckle at his eagerness to receive a simple blessing. The shared laughter lightens the mood, a welcome break from the tension. His eagerness, though a bit amusing, is endearing, and it brings a moment of relief to the group. You don’t ever wish to have it any other way.

Never in a million, no, a billion years.

It sparked a new happiness in your heart, a little hope that life may look better in the future. That maybe, just maybe— losing once is not the end of the world. Because in the long run, even the smallest of details (like Mickbell almost faceplanting into the floor, which you had to admit got a little chuckle out of you) would make you happy.

After all, simple joys in life can go a long way.

And maybe It was all you ever needed.

…

Though, It makes you begin to realize; this journey will take a lot longer than you thought it would.

What once was a ‘couple of days’ seemed to stretch out into weeks, and possibly for longer.

Though, it might not be as bad as you make it out to be.

A little hope wont hurt anybody.

.・。.・゜✭・ TAGLIST !

@sy1v30n @whatamidoing89 @meerpea @pop-ee104 @starriejin @valerayne @mshope16 @stefnarda @lovin-past @slightly-lonely-jonesy @auhokvam

and the lotlt spotify playlist!!!!! ♡ open to song suggestions ;p

[sitp-recs]

What are some of your fave long fics like over 100k?

Hi anon! Here are my favourites, they’re not very recent as I barely read anything over 20k these days 🥲 I have shortened the summaries so this wouldn’t get too long:

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 104k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (E, 113k)

Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Things Worth Knowing by Femme and noeon (E, 164k)

After the Battle, Harry thinks he's left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors.

There Is Always the Moon by firethesound (T, 159k)

Draco's life after the war is everything he wanted it to be: it's simple, and quiet, and predictable, and safe. But when a mysterious curse shatters the peace he'd worked so hard to build, there's only one person he can trust to help him.

The Secret Keeper by fools_errand (M, 225k)

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 306k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 312k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

[amyreadsandstresses]

AMY'S DAILY FIC REC

Here we go! We have returned! This time with some BBC Sherlock, BBC Merlin and Stranger Things

*Complications - EstravenAi

20k, 15/15, Johnlock, Medical Trauma, Permanent Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending

Heat and noise... 

After John is seriously injured during a case, he and Sherlock must deal with the fallout.

*The Imaginary Boyfriend - Oliver_966

2k, 1/1, Johnlock, The Yard finds out, Humor, Angst, Fluff, Married Johnlock

John and Sherlock met after Johns first leave, and have been in a relationship for years. Sherlock hasn't ever mentioned this to anyone at the Yard, and when he does they turn it into a joke. Sherlock doesn't care though of course, because he knows his John is real.

*Illusory Correlation and Confirmation Bias - VanillaBroompolish

10k, 6/6, Johnlock, Greg is a good friend, Molly Hooper, Sally Donovan, Relationship Reveal

Looking back, there were a few things that should’ve tipped Greg off long before that night at the pub. A few things Sherlock left fairly obvious, that on reflection, made Greg question how he’d gotten his job in the first place.

*Limits - WhatLocked

41k, 23/23, Johnlock, Baby Watson, Mentions of Infidelity, Mary Ships Johnlock, Mycroft is a good brother and uncle, Arguments and Confusion, Fluff and Smut

Basically, John leaves, without a trace, after discovering that Mary has left and the baby is not his.

Sherlock gets frantic, Mycroft gets sassy and limits are reached.

Sherlock somehow acquires a baby that he didn't expect to meet and eventually John comes home.

That is when things get tricky...

*Sharp Angles and Thin Measurements - wistfulpisces

TRIGGER WARNING, 1k, 1/1, Sherlock-centric, OCD, Eating Disorders, Unilock, Stream of consciousness

Sherlock has always been sharply aware of his body.

Perhaps too aware for his own good.

*For Now and Always - merpancake

996, 1/1, Merwaine, Proposal, Short and lovely

It was a joke, surely just meant to be a joke, but- suddenly Gwaine could see a future unrolling in front of him like a tapestry.

*Mornings - ShipsUncloaking

320, 1/1, Merwaine, Short and Fluffy

Merlin and Gwaine have been married for a year, and at this point their morning routine is pretty much set in stone.

*to spill soup (down someone else's front) - southfarthing

615, 1/1, Gwen & Merlin, Gwen/Arthur, Fluff and Humor

A visiting noble says something rude. Merlin and Gwen try to out-friend each other.

*the things that you hold - EachPeachPearPlum

1k, 1/1, Merwaine, Gwen/Lancelot/Arthur, Magic Reveal, Fluff

“I’m a sorcerer,” Merlin announces, the second Gwaine closes his bedroom door behind himself (our bedroom, Gwaine would insist, but Merlin’s been hesitating on that, holding back until Gwaine knows all of him, because how can anything be theirs when Merlin is keeping so much from him).

Gwaine stares at him, somewhere between a little bit startled and actually alarmed, and Merlin curses internally. Idiot, he tells himself. You idiot, this wasn’t the plan.

*Little Miracles - Lola_Rose_Robins

3k, 1/1, No Slah, Parent Merlin, Parent Arthur, Queer Platonic Relationship, Family Fuff, Adoption

One of Merlin and Gaius' patients dies in childbirth, leaving behind two young children with nowhere to go. Merlin decides to take them in and pretty soon the entire castle is fully on board.

*A Golden Coin (With Two Sides) - Lilmia_Casand

939, 1/1, Merthur, Fluff

Merlin gets hit by a spell that gives him dragonish tendencies, it's really too bad that Arthur's hair is as golden as Merlin's brand new hoard. Because Merlin might try to hoard Arthur and that would just be- soft, fuffly, adorable. I could go on.

*It's The Little Things - KellyDrake6

1k, 1/1, Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Gwen, Language of Flowers, Fluff, Hugging

Arthur notices Merlin hasn't smiled in awhile so gives him flowers to cheer him up

*Faithful Are the Wounds of a Friend - VikingSong

4k, 1/1, Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Gwen, Knights of the Round Table, Scar reveal, Magic reveal, Angst and Humor and a Happy Ending

Arthur catches sight of a scar on Merlin’s back which he can’t explain, so he asks each of the members of the Round Table if they’ve seen it, too. They have...but it wasn’t the same scar.

*The resident oddball - Lola_Rose_Robins

4k, 1/1, Aroace Merlin, Aroace Leon, Stimming, Oblivious Arthur, Autistic Merlin, George is a good friend, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic

Merlin's autistic, he's got some sensory issues, his friends help him.

*Cloth Armour Series - a_chilleus

2 works, 6k, No Slash, Autistic Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Era, Sensory Overload

He brushed his hand over the smooth metal of the freshly polished helmet, smiling at the cold texture, before picking up the breastplate. He carefully wiped the mud off the shoulders, revelling in the soft swish sound of the cloth against the metal, moving slowly simply to draw out the satisfying sound for longer. There was no hurry.

*Scenes From A Summer - vensre

2K, 1/1, Merthur, Autistic Merlin, First Kiss, Gwen, Gaius, Hunith

If Merlin had Asperger Syndrome on top of being magical, his life might be something like this.

*Taking a Chance - cordeliadelayne

2k, 1/1, Lancelot/Merlin, Arthur is a good friend, Light Angst, Getting Together

Merlin doesn't think that having something of his very own is too much to ask, not this once.

*On Shapes and Stories - TyalanganD

2k, 1/1, No Slash, Dyslexia, Light Angst, Humor

The spell book that Gaius gave Merlin upon his arrival in Camelot, is a really precious gift. It would be even more precious if Merlin could fucking read.

*Breathe - kriadydragon

9k, 1/1, Gen, PTSD, Friendship, Torture, Hurt/Comfort

Merlin saves the day - yet again - when he manages to get an injured Arthur and knights to safety. But Merlin's troubles are far from over when an investigation into what had happened to the king and knights leaves him in a bad way, and now it's Arthur and Gwaine's turn to be there for him.

*In Deep and Out of Control - LFB72

5k, 2/2, Gen, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury

Arthur and Merlin are trapped with no means of escape. Merlin is injured and struggles to control himself as a past trauma comes back to haunt him

*The Time Tried our Souls, and Through the Darkness we Overcame - mollrach13

8k, 1/1, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Healing, Torture, Magic Reveal

A fill for this prompt at kinkme_merlin: Merlin goes through a lot of trauma and has gotten very used to hiding it, moving on (or at least appearing to), and coping silently and without anyone noticing, because most of the time no one can know something happened. One day something traumatic happens to him, which everyone knows about, and everyone is waiting for Merlin to snap, only for him to...not. Arthur is caught between worried and suspicious, and sets about to get to the bottom of this.

*The Burning Truth - FoiblePNoteworthy

2k, 1/1, Gen, Magic Reveal, Drama, Merlin's Backstory

“My Father was a sorcerer,” Merlin said into the silence.

*Darker State of Grace - Nabula5030

6k, 1/1, Merwaine, Gaius & Merlin, Trauma, Serket Stings, PTSD, Scar Reveal, Chronic Pain, Physician Merlin

While on a patrol gone wrong, Gwaine leaps between Merlin and a serket, taking the sting himself.

*Over, Under, Around, and Through to the Heart - anarchycox

4k, 1/1, Merwaine, Arthur Pendragon, Elyan, Gwen, Fluff, Minor Angst, Secret Courtship, Happy Feels

In Ealdor, you court someone by braiding their hair. Gwaine does not know this. Merlin knows Gwaine does not know this. Which means that braiding Gwaine's hair can be just because Merlin wants to, not because he is really courting the man.

He is really courting the man.

*No Badges to Wear - mollrach13

12k, 7/7, Merwaine, Getting Together, Angst and Romance, Scars

“You could do with a good mark. How a man trails around after King Trouble-Magnet for years without a mark on him is an impressive feat.”

Merlin stills under his touch. It’s only for a short moment but Gwaine feels it none the less before Merlin’s body melts back down into the sheets.

“Oh, you know me,” Merlin says with a small shrug. “Just lucky I guess.”

Or; You've all read scar reveal fics. Well, this is an anti-scar reveal. With Merlin/Gwaine because there isn't enough imo.

*A Study in Natural Philosophy - Mad_Mauldin

13k, 1/1, Series 01, Daemons -His Dark Materials, Magic Reveal

It wasn't all that unusual for people to hide their daemons; Merlin, however, seems to be taking it a little far.

*take me up, cast me away - redkay

12k, 1/1, Merthur, Canon Era, Pre-slash, Gwen, Gwaine, SO GOOD

In which Merlin has a selective understanding of the term banishment, Arthur needs to lock his doors, and neither of them are half as good at mending themselves as they were at breaking in the first place.

*hide and seek - southfarthing

11k 2/3, Gen, Aithusa, ANGST, Recovery, Happy Ending, Post Magic Reveal, Good Morgana

In Arthur’s more selfish moments, he catches himself wondering whether it would be better if Merlin were dead. Better being at peace than fearing Arthur in a self-imposed exile.

-

On the run from Camelot, Merlin is captured and locked away with a dragon. It is years before Arthur can find him and bring him back.

*Dying to Return - StormDancer

19k, 1/1, Merthur, Gwen/Arthur, Gwen/Lancelot, Future Fic, Angsty but so good

When they try to hang him, he floats.

*

They put him on the pyre at dawn.

He doesn’t burn.

*All the Colours in Disguise - inktomi

3k, 1/1, Gwen/Arthur, BAMF Merlin, Magic Revealed, Humor, Angst

Arthur knows. Arthur knows that Merlin knows that Arthur knows. They don't talk about it. (They don't need to.)

*hide your dragons - southfarthing

6k, 2/2, Gen, Aithusa, Gwen is a good friend, Adorable and fluffy and so good, Humor

'It is clear in the law,' Arthur says. 'No magical creatures allowed in Camelot. Sorry.'

Merlin lifts Aithusa up so Arthur can get a better look.

Arthur blinks. 'I will make an exception because she looks very polite.'

-

In which Merlin tries to raise a very illegal dragon in a very dragons-aren't-allowed sort of place.

*Do You Have Need of Me? - TheActualAuthor

33k, 5/5, Gen, Assasins, Druids, Spy Merlin, Emrys Reveal, Grief, Angst, Identity Crisis

Merlin is Camelot’s spymaster and must reveal himself as such to Arthur when he becomes king.

*chosen family - safi

3k, 1/1, Hurt Steve Harrington, Sickfic, Joyce Byers

Sometimes the best family is the one that we choose, not the one we're born into.

Steve's parents never make him their priority, so when he's sick, he is left to his own devices. When Joyce finds this out, she treats him like one of her own sons and makes sure he gets the care he deserves.

*hungry heart - babadak

1k, 1/1, Steddie, Fluff and Crack, Eddie Munson Lives

The realization should be scary, but his perception of scary went down the drain after beating a demon with a baseball bat in Jonathan Byers' house in '83. And then being tortured by Russians in '85. So, being gay should be... it should be something bigger, he's well aware. But it isn't.

Or: Steve Harrington likes boys and isn't freaking out about it.

*The Steve Harrington Triptych - ouijaboy

6k, 2 works, Steddie, Disabled Character, Angst with a Happy Ending

Sometimes, he wishes it had been Vecna. At least they could’ve done something about that.

*Ignore my hurts (Silence my cries) - MossTheMarauder

3k, 1/1, No Slah, Head Trauma, Chronic Pain, Vision Impairement, Steve-centric, Child Abuse

It turns out there’s only so much damage a brain can take before something has to give, and when that brain frequently gets treated like a pinball perhaps side effects should have been expected sooner. Having said that, Steve didn’t realise the permanent harm being done until it was too late to stop it; not that he would have if it meant the people he cared about getting hurt.

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

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

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

[tomdutch]

bliss among sinners | tsh

synopsis ⇢ it’s february 14th, and you’re alone. as usual. your pity party leads to a shameful, pyjama-clad trip to the corner store for as much candy as you can carry. the last thing you want is to bump into an insufferable, frat-boy wannabe, who keeps popping up in the most inopportune moments and whose shit-eating grin hides something more sinister than he lets on.

↳ drummer!tom, sort of mafia au

genre ⇢ fluff, angst, smut (18+ only; minors dni)

est. word count ⇢ 20k

note ⇢ hoping to get this out next weekend so i hope you enjoy this preview and lmk what you think!

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Can cringe set your ears on fire? This seemingly insufferable stranger only pushes himself close to you until you can smell the musk scent of his cologne and aftershave on the nape of his neck. Your senses are almost on fire from the proximity, not being used to such intimacy for so long, and now your entire body heats for a completely different reason. The man’s only said a handful of words and you’re already wondering whether you should just let the scowl take over your face.

“Well, not like this will interest the likes of you, but I came here to get Valentine’s Day cards.” You smile. “Have a nice day.”

“You can’t possibly believe that a cheap piece of paper can make anyone feel special.” He snorts out, and instead of making it seem like a question, his tone is almost challenging you to answer him.

“So I should stop believing actual declarations of love and care, and start taking your discount, corny, down-right uncomfortable pick-up lines to heart instead?” Scoffing, you turn away from him to put the card back as he watches you meticulously.

“At least my attempts are sincere, unlike this lazy shit a guy buys his girlfriend ten minutes before a date he forgot about.” The man retorts, delighting in the scowl forming on your face.

“Well, it’s a lot better to be lazy than to be a complete asshole to strangers.” You bite, taking hold of the ugliest, most cliché hot pink card and flashing it in his face.

His arms trap you between the counter and his own body, much to your dismay. It’s impossible to deny how almost unnaturally handsome he is up-close, from the light freckles on his cheeks, the specks of gold in his iris and the frilliness on his eyebrow. In pure it’s-been-too-damn-long culture, your eyes trace his own brown ones, sparkling with mischief, to his smooth cheeks and chiselled jaw.

“I don’t think you like me very much, which is a shame because you don’t even know my name, sweetheart.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. My asshat radar is ever so efficient.” Winking at him, you place your hands on his surprisingly sturdy chest and push him away, taking in a short breath now that the warmth radiating from him is gone.

The smug look does not disappear off his face even after your rather blunt rejection. With the card held between your fingers, you walk away, feeling his eyes on the back of your head like a starved hawk. You’re not even sure why you’re heading towards the cashier since you have no one to gift the card to, but the last thing you’re about to do is give this irksome stranger, however beguiling he looks, the last word.

A sleepy gasp leaves the teen dozing off behind the counter when you smack the card in front of him, and he jumps up in shock. Grumbling nearly as much as him, you search through your pockets for spare change.

“Three fifty-five. Do you have our favourite customer card, ma’am?”

Fuck. The coins in your sweatpants only amount to three dollars and twenty-five cents—so close, but not enough. Mouth drying up, you fumble with your pouches for a few more seconds, hoping the half-awake kid doesn’t notice your predicament.

“Here. Put her stuff on my bill.” Your heart skips a beat and races once again as Beanie Boy comes up behind you, nimble digits handing the clerk his credit card.

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. I have―I’m perfectly capable of paying for my own lazy and cheap needs, right?”

He lets out a disbelieving laugh and ignores your picking his card out of the boy’s hand and slamming it on the counter. Unattainable, he calmly puts his credit card back into his jeans and throws a wad of cash as thick as your fist towards the teenager. The poor kid almost loses his footing, eyes wide open and unsure.

“Do not take his money.” You almost growl at the clerk, who pales and steps back with his hands up, like you’ve pulled out a gun and have it pointed at him.

The stranger puts his hand on your wrist, his voice a lot lower now, “Hey, consider it a gift; a Valentine’s Day gift.”

“That means very little to me after knowing your warped views and dealing with your insufferable attitude. Hell, you probably think the same about love at first sight.” Sneering, you grab the colourful card and scowl your way to the shelves with the dreadful man right on your tail.

“I assure you I’m quite the romantic,” he snorts, boots sounding out on the floor behind you, “I’m even trying to be your Valentine and you broke my heart twice in one night.”

You put the card back in its place before you turn to face him, biting the inside of his cheeks to retain himself from laughing. The disbelief on your face is more than clear, although you feel the corner of your lips twitching upwards, “You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met. Like, you realise we’re strangers and you’re getting on my nerves?”

“Got you to smile, though, didn’t I?” Your eyebrows immediately furrow at his complacent teasing, but it’s too late―he’s already seen the slight grin playing on your mouth.

all rights reserved © rosyparkers. i do not allow translations or reposting of my work on any platform, even if credited is given or without my direct permission.

[thesoulspulse]

Danny Phantom Randomness (Vlad Masters If He Was More Like David Xanatos ~ Part 1)

I think I mentioned this when I first got back into the phandom but personally I have a sneaking suspicion Vlad may have also been at least somewhat inspired by one of my favorite Disney villains/antagonists -apart from Maleficent- and that’s David Xanatos from the old animated TV series Gargoyles. Lets face it, anyone else who has seen this amazing show probably thought the same thing when Danny Phantom originally released and we met Vlad Masters for the first time.

Mind you, this is just my personal opinion though so take what I’m about to say with a grain of salt and I’m well aware that I’m probably not the first to think of this. The point of this post is to share how terrifying Vlad would have been if he was less of a comical villain and more ruthless and cunning like David Xanatos. Before we get to that though, lets start with the basics...

David Xanatos/Vlad Masters Comparison:

Gargoyles came out in 1994 and ended in 1997.

Danny Phantom came out in 2004 and ended in 2007, meaning both shows are exactly 10 years apart from each other.

Do they both have a personal nemesis? Yes!

Xanatos has many enemies but the main one is Goliath, one of the main characters in the show, because Xanatos is constantly manipulating the Gargoyle clan’s leader and his companions in some way.

As for Vlad, the obvious answer is Danny and his old college buddy Jack Fenton, but with the latter he doesn’t exactly fight Jack that often and just calls him names behind his back.

Both of these guys are the richest people in the world in their respective versions of it, AND live in their very own castle too! How could I not see the similarities?! Not to mention they’re both fascinated with mystical/supernatural artifacts.

Speaking of which, the biggest similarity between these two is probably their design, I mean just look at these handsome devils:

They’re both totally giving off the same charismatic vibes. Although the art styles are completely different, they both have: long hair in a ponytail, similar circle beard & goatee, nicely sculpted jawline (don’t give me that look you know it’s true!) and most obviously they both dress in finely tailored suits.

There’s even a TV trope NAMED after Xanatos known as the Xanatos Gambit and strangely enough...Vlad actually DOES use this sort of tactic with a few of his plans which connects to several important events together (https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/XanatosGambit).

 Sorry in advance it’s kinda crappy looking but hopefully it gives you the idea of how literally EVERYTHING Vlad did involving Valerie benefited him somehow from the very start of her ghost hunting days.

Next up, these two billionaires are incredibly smart. However, sadly Vlad was created to be more of a comedic villain for the most part since that’s what Nickelodeon is best known for which is totally fine. He’s the kind of cookie-cutter bad guy who is still easily defeated by the hero in most cases so we’ll get to how incredibly dangerous Vlad would be if he was more like Xanatos...

Speaking of, David Xanatos does a lot of the same sort o things Vlad did in a way; he cloned Goliath the same way Vlad cloned Danny; they have both manipulated their respective nemesis into doing their dirty work; both of them have a robotic exo-skeleton though to be fair Vlad never wore the one he stole from Fenton Works himself; and they’ve used their nemesis’s loved ones as bargaining chips/hostages.

As for their wealth, both Xanatos and Vlad rigged theirs in one way or another as follows:

Xanatos had a valuable 10th century coin sent to him from the past into the future via his connections to the Illuminati while time traveling for his honeymoon using a mystical relic known as the Phoenix Gate. Trust me, it’s a lot cooler than it sounds. And after selling it for about 20k he invested that money into many successful ventures, thus becoming the richest man in the world.

Vlad on the other hand went the more classic villain route and admits in “Kindred Spirits” that he committed a string of invisible burglaries to make his billions and I assume he also invested a lot of that money just like Xanatos did. Although he had the additional option to overshadow people and trick them into signing over the rights to many influential companies to him.

A bit unrelated but there’s also a clan of Gargoyle hunters in Gargoyles too so imagine if Valerie’s family had a much longer history of hating ghosts than we realized? As in on her mom’s side they were descendants of ghost hunters all alone just like the Fenton’s.

I could probably go into more detail but I’m putting a lot of this together through memory since I haven’t re-watched Gargoyles again recently or anything like that. We’ll get to the fun part in another post with some examples of how Danny probably would have been no match for a Vlad who has his act together and planned EVERYTHING well in advance.

[epicstuckyficrecs]

Weekly Recap | February 8-21 2021

You get two weeks worth of fics this time because I got too busy last weekend and didn't have time to do my weekly recap :)

Complete

Evanstan Week 2021 by luninosity/ @luninosity​ (Evanstan | 10K | Mature): All my Evanstan Week little fics!

1. dodger 2. kisses  3. on set  4. first times (a first kiss, at least)  5. in space (alternate universe)  6. fluff  7. holiday 

💙  Remote Access by Kalee60/ @kalee60​ (Modern AU, Roommates | 57K | Explicit): Bucky Barnes was in trouble. More trouble than he ever thought he could get into as a grown adult. And it was caused by two singular factors that should never have become entwined.One, his god-like housemate Steve Rogers, who was unfairly handsome and the perfect specimen of man in not only looks but personality - and completely out of Bucky’s league.Two, Bucky’s obsession with a new toy he’d purchased to fill his lonely nights (and other areas).But when Steve buys a new TV, suddenly these two seemingly separate parts of Bucky’s life crash together in a spectacular and obsessive way.Bucky soon finds himself not as in control as he thought - and that’s when things start to get interesting…

💙  Black and Blue by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​, the1918/ @the1918​ (Modern AU, Spies & Secret agents | 7K | Explicit): CIA Agent Bucky Barnes and Captain Steve Rogers, Army 207th, Military Intelligence, are two American spies working for two different intelligence agencies. They've developed somewhat of complicated relationship while chasing down the same leads.

Until One Day, We Won't Be by the1918/ @the1918​ (Evanstan RPF | 8K | Explicit): Six times Chris and Sebastian were alone. [+ one time they were not.]

💙  How to Bang Your Weapon (in This World and the Next) by Brokenwords, elkane/ @elkane​, Hark_bananas/ @harkbananas​, kocuria-visuals (kocuria)/ @kocuria​, Nospheratt/ @nospheratt​, profoundalpacakitten/ @profoundalpacakitten​, ScrambledScript, sublimepigeon/ @sublimepigeon, ursa (Canon Divergent, WS!Steve, WS\Bucky, Multiverse | 50K | Explicit): Hydra knows how to get the Asset to do their bidding. When they want a new Captain, a new Steven Grant Rogers from another universe to help grow Hydra’s collection of supersoldiers, of course they send the Asset. But little do they know that in any universe, a Bucky will always find a Steve, and a Steve will always protect a Bucky.

💙  What lies they told us by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Mobster AU | 42K | Explicit): Steve Rogers might still see his ma every Sunday, but he isn’t the dutiful son. He gave up that life a long time ago. Bucky Barnes may be following in his fathers footsteps, but he wants to set a path to something more than where they’ll take him. Steve and Bucky’s lives have always intersected. There is something between them that exists, real and palpable. But they are opposite sides of a coin. Opposing families in a war for money and power. Blood and pain. And fate may bring them together, again and again, pulling them closer. But it always finds a way to rip them apart. What they need is a way to fight fate. To fight their families. To reach each other. To keep each other. 

the prosecution rests by dirtybinary/ @dirtybinary (Post-WS | 3K | Teen): The Asset has to admit, ending a mission with Captain America crying into his lap is pretty unexpected. Even for him, and he is trained to anticipate all contingencies.

💙  The Seed and the Root by the1918/ @the1918​ (Shrunkyclunks, Post-EG | 32K | Explicit): His hands and mouth are gentle on the outside, but on the inside, Steve is burning up. He’s got everything he’s ever wanted on the bed and land beneath him, and now it’s so much at once that he’s afraid he’ll combust into white, nuclear light. (Part 3 of 💙  Song of the Rolling Earth)

Burning For You by musette22/ @musette22​ (Evanstan RPF, Non-Famous Sebastian | 3K | Teen): Sebastian gets a little carried away when raving about the Mountain Lodge candle to a friend. It leads to an unexpected, fragrant encounter.

At The Bottom Of Everything by Anonymous (Evanstan RPF | 12K | Teen): Six years. That’s what they’re celebrating. Six years, of them. Of this. That's what Chris is happy about. Until the phone rings. Until he turns on the news.

💙  Slip Of The Tongue by this_wayward_life (Shrunkyslunks, Soulmate AU | 6K | Explicit): Mr Perfect Ass is even prettier from the front. His braid is loose enough that strands of hair have fallen to frame his face, and an oversized scarf is pulled up to just below his pouty, red mouth. He's big, with wide shoulders and thick arms and thighs that are straining at his jeans, and he's staring at Steve with a blush on his face and the prettiest eyes Steve has ever seen."Oh, god," Steve blurts out. "Please sit on my face."

(series) Kinktober 2020 by this_wayward_life (31 works | 80K | Explicit)

The Best Handjob Of Bucky Barnes's Damn Life (Handjob)

Soft (Eating Out)

The Benefits of A Sugar Baby  (Thigh Riding)

Black and Blue (Choking/Spanking)

Black Mesh, Red Leather (Daddy Kink)

Thank God For Company-Sanctioned Teambuilding Workshops (Blindfolded)

The Only Thing School Football Is Good For  (Blowjob)

Your Body, On Crumpled Sheets (Voyeurism)

Feeling Just Peachy (Accidental Stimulation)

Blood-slick (Knife Kink)

Bury Me (Restraints)

Summer Nights (Fingering)

Beautiful Shackles (Public Sex)

You Are My First, And You'll Be My Last (Sixty-Nine)

Cover My Body (Size Difference)

All Plugged Up (Toys)

the tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks (Begging)

Sugar Cookies (In the kitchen)

Seeing Double (Threesome)

I'll crawl home to him (Edging)

Your Voice In My Ear (Phone sex)

Hold Me Close, Keep the Monsters at Bay (In the shower/tub)

Keep Me Warm (First Time)

He never asked me once about the wrong I did (BDSM/rough sex)

Unexpected (Caught masturbating)

Overcome (Overstimulation)

In the Crowd (Orgy)

Praise Your Baby (Praise kink)

Grab on my waist and put that body on me  (Dirty talk)

Rediscovery (Mutual Masturbation)

Think I Found Myself a Cheerleader (Dressed up)

WIP

💙  Underneath the Shattered Sky by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Planet Hulk AU, Post-Endgame | 14/? | 55K | Mature): “I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.” Steve sounded choked. “I’m sorry. It was out of line.” “It’s really okay.” “No, it’s not. You’re not him. You’re your own person, with your own history, your own thoughts and feelings. Your own life here. I can’t expect you to be him. It’s not fair. To either of you.” “Maybe not,” Bucky huffed back. “But in this universe, my Steve’s an asshole who left me. And in your universe, your Bucky was taken from you, so I don’t really know what’s fair anymore.”

💙  and the river flows beneath your skin by Deisderium/ @deisderium​ (Boarding School AU, Soulmates | 3/? | 20K | Mature): In which Steve and Bucky are forced to room together their senior year at boarding school, and accidentally soul bond to each other even though they kind of hate each other. All they have to do to get out of it is not kiss each other for a year so the accidental bond will fade. How hard could it be?

💙  The Root and the Stalk by the1918/ @the1918​ (Shrunkyclunks, Post-EG | 3/6 | 18K | Explicit): “My mom, she’s not perfect, but she always had this one saying. You can’t look right into the sunset, because the light will burn your eyes. So you have to face east, right?” Bucky tucks his forehead against Steve’s chest, staring down the gap between them, eyes on their feet. “And when you do, you can look at the ground, and you can see your own shadow.” Bucky raises his head after a contemplative silence and gazes up at Steve. Those stormy gray eyes are filled with luminance, iridescence, splintered rays of shining light. “Or—Mom would say—you can look in front of you.” His lashes kiss his cheeks in butterfly pulses every time he blinks. “And ‘God’s light at your back will show you everything.’” (Part 4 of 💙  Song of the Rolling Earth)

💙  Revenance by by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel​, SinpaiCasanova (Bladerunnerblue) (The Old Guard AU/The Song of Achilles AU | 20/? | 62K | Mature | Warning: Violence, MCD): And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Or, the one where Steve and Bucky are immortal and used to be known as Achilles and Patroclus.

💙  my soul and my youth (it’s all for you to use) by voxofthevoid/ @voxofthevoid​ (Post-Endgame (non-compliant) | 1/2 | 7K | Explicit): He waits until Bucky’s got a happy mouthful of eggs and toast. “I want to fuck you when you’re asleep.” Steve smiles his sweetest smile, and Bucky’s eyes narrow further, until they’re luminous blue slits. He swallows. Steve helplessly tracks the bob of his throat and drags his eyes back up to Bucky’s. “Steven Grant,” Bucky says, tone somewhere between amusement and admonishment. “Way to spring that on a guy.”

Re-read

I [Heart] You by writeonclara (Canon, magic curse | 1K | General): “Steve’s been hit with a curse,” Natasha said. She said it calmly, so Bucky didn’t immediately go flying out of the apartment to tear apart the Tower in search of Steve. Then again, Natasha would probably be calm if New York City spontaneously burst into flames. He lowered the coffee pot and squinted at her. “Of course he has,” he said. He felt, abruptly, exhausted. “What is it?” “The witch kept ranting about sexual repression and archaic moral principles,” she continued blithely.

[nbrook29]

💞 My ultimate Sobbe fic recs 💞

Recently, I have gone through Robbe/Sander tag on ao3 and I decided to compose a list of fics that are absolute gems for me. A few disclaimers first:

✔ I didn’t include works in progress (WIPs), however I did include fics that are only on tumblr

✔ the order of the fics below is random

✔ this is the list of my personal favorites so if your favorite fic is not on the list it doesn’t mean it’s bad or that I consider it bad - we just vibe with different things :)

✔ if there’s a fic on this list that you decided to give a shot and loved it, please remember about leaving a comment under it to let the author know that

✔ I’ve been trying to add the “read more” thingy but it doesn’t show, I’m sorry, I know long posts are annoying af

under 1k

we’re keeping it simple by noobishere | G

Summary: Sander comes over unannounced and attacks Robbe’s very person (a.k.a the one where Sander teases Robbe on Eenvoud)

This is a guaranteed mood lifter. It’s short, sweet, to the point, and oh so funny. The banter. And I’d die to see that in the show. 

1k - 5k

Fizzy Colas by Foxsake5 | M

Summary: Let’s say this is a clip (hopefully not as short as the standard 1:40 of this season) with Sander as the main on a ‘bros night out’ 🍻

This author is my queen/king alright? They take a simple idea and turn it into the most lovely/cute/soft story. This fic is exactly that. Sobbe’s chemistry here is out of this world and the banter is to die for.

high for this by flowersmaze (@bowieskam) | G

Summary: In which Sander remains a Flirt™ and in love with Robbe even when he can’t feel his face after a medical procedure

The summary says it all. Loopy Sander is the cutest and funniest thing.

Pull Me from the Dark by TheOceanIsMyInkwell (@theoceanismyinkwell) | T

Summary: Sander discovers that Robbe has recently been prescribed antidepressants, and Robbe opens up to him about the night he almost stepped off the bridge. Only love will show how much they’ve grown and pull them through.

This time, the boys talk about Robbe’s mental state which is unusual in fics. This oneshot is communication 101. And this line is just 👌🏻 “But after the dust of their first kiss and their first vows of commitment settled around them, Robbe took a look at the space in which he floated and realized, somewhere along the line, that finding the love of your life doesn’t fix you.”

diminuendo by noobishere

Summary: Waking up feels like an ordeal. His eyes are heavy, arms a dead weight, he isn’t sure if his limbs are even in the right places, but eventually, Sander comes to. (a.k.a a take on how Sander fairs after Robbe left for school.)

Sander’s POV after Dinsdag 7:27. It’s a great insight into his headspace during that time. This could be a scene in the show because it fits so well.

you’re wonder under summer sky by nothingbutniall | M

Summary: Two city boys go camping. What could go wrong? (Everything, apparently.)

Those boys are a chaotic mess okay? They’re such dorks. This fic has the best kind of grumpiness there is and sobbe is written so in character here.

if we can make it through december (maybe we’ll make it through forever) by nothingbutniall | G

Summary: Robbe and Sander at the Christmas market.

Can you imagine those two dorks at the Christmas market? Well you don’t have to anymore because this fic is everything you need and more. And this line “Couldn’t,” Sander sulks. “You can’t hold hands properly with mittens on.” makes me go all gooey inside every.single.time 😍

A New Sunday Feeling by Foxsake5 | M

Summary:  Sander before Robbe: Ugh, Sundays 😒 Sander after Robbe: 😏🥺🥰

The way this author writes sobbe’s intimate moments is just pure talent. They have such way with words.

memories painted with much brighter ink by nothingbutniall | G

Summary: Saint Nicholas is the perfect excuse for an evening of gifts and banter with the flatshare. (Basically all five of them being cute together, and then Robbe and Sander being cute with just the two of them.)

This is the perfect fic for an October evening, when Christmas is just around the corner and you’ve just made yourself a cup of coffee and want to read some heart-warming well-written christmassy fluff. 

5k - 10k

Let’s Dance by msleviss (@sander-driesen) | G

Summary: Robbe and his friends go to a club to check out Amber’s DJ cousin.

THIS PERSON PREDICTED DJ SANDER Y’ALL. And Robbe thirsts over him. And there is an instant connection. And Robbe dances. And it’s so cute.

video phone by tokyometropolis (@luludemauryyy) | E

Summary: AKA OH MY GOD, THEY WERE QUARANTINED…except not together, because life is cruel. Thankfully it’s 2020 and when Robbe has an…er…intense dream about Sander in the middle of the night, all he has to do is press one button and Facetime him about it. Thing is…sometimes FaceTiming isn’t enough.

Look. I get that smut fics are not everyone’s cup of tea. And that’s totally fine. But. If you’re looking for a well-written smut that’s in character and where you can feel the love between the characters, this is it. Hands down. Sorry not sorry 💁🏼‍♀️

10k - 20k

our camp of dreams by robbesanderx (@robbesdriesen) | M

Summary: a summer camp!AU where robbe and sander are both co-counselors

Misunderstandings lead to pining. Teenage angst at its finest. I really like camp stories, it’s my thing.

Falling For You by silver_etoile (@azozzoni) | T

Summary: Robbe only knows one thing about football: that Sander Dreisen is the hottest player on the FC Utrecht team. When Jens drags him to a match, the last thing Robbe expects is to meet someone so perfect, and it’s all he can do not to mess it up, but will he succeed?

Sobbe in a different setting with a bit different dynamic yet still having that special something. It’s a nicely written story of the development of their relationship, first meeting, falling in love, ups and down, all the best things in fics. And Sander as a soccer player is a pretty 🔥 concept (and I think Robbe agrees).

This isn’t our first time around by noobishere | E

Summary: One moment they are in the kitchen of their shared apartment, the next, they’re in this strange but familiar room.(a.k.a the au in which they accidentally go hopping through multiple universes)

The universe takes matters into their own hands and shows those silly boys that they are meant to be. Sign me up for the ride.

Coffee and Croques by peaceoutofthepieces (@peaceoutofthepieces) | G

Summary: Sander works at the on-campus coffee shop with Eliott, and he might just have a crush on the cute boy in the brown coat.

I’m a sucker for coffeshop fics. There is just something so good about them. This one is the coffeshop!AU that sobbe deserves. Oh the pining, and the secretive looks, the silly boys, and a pinch of Elu. Me likey ☕

The finest of the meadow by allforyoumylove | M

Summary: The universe brings two lonely boys together in a flowering meadow. They fall for each other fast and hard among delicate daisies, warm summer breezes, and shooting stars.

This is magical. My comment on the work was “So soft, so beautiful, so THEM, ugh.” and I MEANT that. This is just the right amount of sweetness. This is a must read. I’m not messing around. 

two side of the same coin series by MajorAccent (@acespaceacepilot) | E

Summary: the valleys and mountains of sander’s bpd

How the boys handle Sander’s ups and downs. Robbe being the best boyfriend ever. I love how good he is for Sander, being there for him, not treating him like a baby, and not controlling him. How much he tries to make it at least a little bit easier for him. If you don’t want to read explicit stories, at least give the first part a try since it’s not E rated. 

Zaterdag 9:58 by Foxsake5 | M

Summary: What happened after the croissants dropped to the floor 🥐🤭💕

I meant it when I said Foxsake5 has great way with words. Every single piece of theirs is just “chef’s kiss”. This fic is a definition of a domestic fic. Oh, and it happened. Totally. It’s my headcanon now.

its an unrequited love by eggsntoast | G

Summary: Sander works part-time at a museum every Sunday. Robbe is a frequent visitor.

A Sander POV fic. I was sold from the beginning. The development of their relationship here is so cute, and they’re being so stupid with their pining instead of just talking to each other and you just want to shake them but at the same time you’re rooting for them so hard. Oh and did I mention pining?

20k+

Jij Verliest series by ravenbrenna09 (@djsander) | M

Summary: For the past three months, Robbe’s life—and what it once was—had been stripped away and rearranged. Now, if anything, his life had become a bit repetitive: homework, stream, ignore Thomas’s Instagram, repeat. But one Friday evening, Robbe meets a hurricane in the form of a platinum-haired tattoo artist who just might show him everything that he’s been missing.

This is a long series okay? But oh so worth it. It’s captivating and you don’t want to stop until you finish. And once you finish you’re sad it’s over even though you’ve just spent 8 fucking hours reading it. It’s amazing. But you probably know that because it’s quite popular (rightfully so). The best thing is that you expect it to go bad halfway through because it’s difficult to keep the quality on the same level in a fic that long. But it doesn’t.

Visitations by lucidpantone (@lucidpantone) | E

Summary: Does Robbe and Sander’s relationship survive into adulthood. This fic takes place in two simultaneously timelines: the past and the present.The present occurs in one entire day. Both timelines are completely out of chronological order. Everything is in clips.You can be dropped in at anytime of the day in any timeline. So clip by clip you will need to piece together what happen to Sander & Robbe and why the present looks the way it does and what happened in the past that got them there.This love story is a journey. So be prepared.In the words of one of our Even’s. It’s a complicated love story between complicated people.

This is not a regular fic. The author put so much thought into it, there are so many gems, so many little things that you have to pay attention to because it.all.matters. And there is not one interpretation. Don’t you just love when a story forces you to think and use your brain? Cause I do. Not gonna lie: this story hurts, and like the author says themselves, it’s a journey. But oh my god get in because it’s amazing. And the ending is just sjsjsjsjsddhdhsdsgdsg 🤯

the night we met by themoongirl (@dearsander) | T

Summary: Robbe Ijzermans has a brain that won’t let him sleep, a chest that feels far too heavy and thoughts that never stop.During his first year of college he meets Sander Driesen. Robbe finds what he never went looking for.

A college AU. This fic is a journey of pain and fluff and humor. It has awesome friendships. And sobbe falling in love. And liminal spaces. I read it a while ago so I don’t remember it as well as the others but you know what? I still remember that it was great and I’m lowkey happy I don’t remember it that well because now I can go and read it again. 

The Stars Look Very Different by @peaceoutofthepieces 

Summary: Robbe is bored. He’s bored of listening to his friends talking about girls, and his other friends making out, and no one ever doing anything. He’s tired of having to put in all the work, of making his own fun. He’s tired of feeling nothing so he doesn’t have to feel like nothing. His party stunts are pushing the limit, his thrill seeking beginning to worry even his friends, and his carelessness is toeing the line of dangerous.

He’s a little tired of being ‘dangerous’, too.

Sander may or may not have a crush on the older boy with the apparent death wish. He wouldn’t mind a little danger.

Once I started reading this fic, each day I was waiting for an update at the edge of my seat which was a feeling I expected from s4 that did not deliver. TSLVD definitely delivered. My favorite sobbe social media AU

Ziggy Stardust Series by skamsnake (@skamsnake) | M/E

A collection of fics taking place throughout the season. Most of them are E rated so be aware of that but it’s a really cool mixture of fluff and spice *fans myself*

[taelme]

Tattoo artist!Bang Chan

genre: tattoo artist!au, (fluff, slightly suggestive, this felt like slow burn to me lol) 

pairing/s:  Chan / Reader, ( some of the stray kids appear in this but not all sorry ) 

word count: 20k+ ( again, idk what happened my hand slipped ) 

tw: none!! just slightly suggestive but NO SMUT in this we keep it safe here bc im weak 

a/n: this was a ride....inspired by that one period of time ( PLS 191110 KAMP festival... ) Bang Chan kept wearing that fake lip piercing....n I love Bang Chan but like...I can't write smut for the life of me so this is the best I can do,... I put a mix in there I guess hope u guys like it!! ps gif not mine idk how many times I need to say this 

“Hi, welcome to peaches, what can I get you?”

You fumbled around in your bag for your wallet, looking up to make eye contact with the boy standing behind the counter, dark brown hair falling over his eyes slightly as he gave you an expectant look.

Taken aback by the sheer appeal of his looks, you avoided his gaze desperately, trying your best to calm yourself down as you wondered just why Felix wasn’t working today.

"Uh…I’ll just uh…I’ll get um. Can I have the peach thing?” you fumbled with your words, your hand going up to your head to scratch at your temple even though it wasn’t itching.

A small huff of laughter escaped the boy, your gaze darting up to look at him, somewhat curious to see what he would look like while laughing, but getting distracted by the shiny silver ring delicately hugging the corner of his lower lip, except this time you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“You mean the peach soda?” he quirked an eyebrow, giving you a small smirk.

You noticed a slight accent in the way he spoke, only serving to make you even more confused about just who he was, your mind wandering to possibilities on whether he was one of Felix’s friends from Australia.

Pursing your lips, you nodded quickly without paying attention to what he was asking you, trying to end your exchange quickly before your flushed skin became too obvious, thrusting your money forward and staring intently as he worked quickly at the register.

Holding the change out for you, you’d almost winced when the pads of your fingers brushed against the cool metal of his rings, hearing him thank you, mumbling something else that you couldn’t quite catch.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Name?” he prompted you again.

You made a sound of realization, remembering that this was your first time meeting him so he wouldn’t know your name, “Y/N,” you told him.

He made a small sound of intrigue, “nice name,” he murmured.

Thankfully you’d regained your sense of the situation before he could write your name on the cup, “wait, I’m not having it to-go,” you added quickly, not expecting to earn a chuckle from him.

“I know, sweetie, I asked you about that just know,” he raised his eyebrows at you, “I just wanted to know your name.”

Shoving your coins into your wallet, you thanked him quickly,  hastening your steps to find yourself a seat at the far corner of the room, away from the crowd of students playing board games but not too far away that your friend wouldn’t be able to spot you when they arrived.

Taking your phone out to pretend to fiddle with it, you couldn’t help the furtive ( you hoped, at least ) glances you stole at the said worker, your constant glances at him making you completely oblivious to what was actually going on around you, only snapping out of your thoughts with a start when you heard a loud thud on your table, your head snapping up quickly to spot your friend in the seat before you.

“Sorry I’m late. Did you wait long?” Jisung asked you, his hair in a mess from what you assumed was the cause of the thud.

“Huh?” you frowned, not hearing him quite well from how distracted you were, Jisung’s reply interrupted when you saw the cashier boy walking towards your table.

“Here’s your drink, sweetie,” he smiled, and in your desperation to avoid his gaze once again, you had noticed how only one of his hands was covered in a sleeve, something you knew people tended to do to cover tattoos.

You pretended you weren’t flustered, giving the boy a slight nod and looked elsewhere, fiddling with the straw in the soda, glaring at Jisung when he’d slid the glass from your hand slowly, raising both eyebrows in question while gesturing wildly with his head in the direction the cashier had walked off in.

“Who’s the hottie and why’s he calling you sweetie?” He wiggled his eyebrows, bringing the straw to his lips to take a long sip.

“Firstly, I want to know just as much as you do. Second of all, I don’t even know his name-”

“It’s Chris, I saw his nametag just now when you were too busy staring at God knows what,” Jisung rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat to casually look at the counter, observing how Chris had brought a little juice box up to his mouth, fiddling with his phone as there were no customers in line.

“Why d’you think Felix suddenly hired him?” Jisung narrowed his eyes at Chris, making you shrug, wondering where Felix was, finding it oddly timely when Felix had chosen that time to enter the café, the bells dangling on top of the door jingling to announce his entrance. 


“He’s here, maybe we can just ask him,” you told Jisung, watching as Felix approached the counter with a wide grin.

Chris placed his phone down quickly, only to relax when he realised it was just Felix.

“Hey,” Felix nodded at Chris, turning to scan the room, waving at you and Jisung upon spotting the both of you.

Jisung waved his hand wildly to beckon Felix to your table, practically pulling him down into a squat next to your table, earning a wide-eyed look of confusion from Felix.

“Hi guys, everything alright?”

“Who is that! Your new hire!” Jisung used his head to nod in Chris’ direction, making Felix turn around in Chris’ direction before a knowing look washed over his face, his mouth curving into an ‘o’ shape, looking very much amused.

“I see you’ve met Chris?”

You nodded, “are you understaffed or something? I thought you said you don’t do part- timers?” You frowned.

Felix shook his head, jutting his lips out in a pout.

“Nope, I’ve been pretty busy these days with classes so I figured I could use some help, plus, he’s a friend of mine so I know I can trust him.” Felix grinned, holding his hands up beside his face in a thumbs up.

“He looks really….” You began, immediately regretting because you were struggling to find the right word to describe Chris’ intimidating aura.

Truth be told, you were just trying not to let how good-looking you thought he was slip. Jisung would surely never let you live it down.

“Scary? Yeah I figured, my parents told me to get him to cover his tattoos so he wouldn’t scare my customers off,” Felix giggled, “but the lip piercing was a little troublesome so I let him keep it on,” he shrugged, your eyes widening at the confirmation that he did indeed have tattoos.

“Trust me….his face is scary enough for that,” you muttered, taking a long sip of your drink in your poor attempt to suppress your curiosity.

Jisung shot you a look, rolling his eyes.

“Please, that ‘sweetie’ he gave you was far from scary and you know it.”

Felix raised an eyebrow at Jisung, turning to give you an amused smile, his hands coming up to cover his mouth (though that didn’t do much in hiding his grin).

“‘Sweetie’?” He giggled, peering over at Chris before shaking his head good-naturedly.

“Yeah, you know, you should tell him not to flirt with your customers,” you huffed, Jisung’s smirk already beginning to unnerve you.

Felix’s response had only unnerved you even more, “trust me, Y/N, he’ll grow on you.”

===

And grow on you he sure did. Though you weren’t very sure if you would liken him to the kind of unwelcome moss that grows on old buildings or that of a pretty morning glory plant. Though both had its own charm, you just weren’t sure which one Chris fit into. Whatever it was, you were sure he was leaning towards the more unwelcome one for you.

You shot an annoyed look at Chris when he’d turned whatever rave music he had been playing in the café even louder, interrupting the cute café project meeting you were attempting to have with one of your friends Jeongin.

“What? Sorry, I can’t concentrate with all...this,” Jeongin gave you an apologetic frown, using his hand to gesture to the speakers, making you turn to cast Chris an angry glare.

Catching his gaze quickly, he gave you an expectant look, which only served to unnerve you more with how nonchalant he was acting.

“The music” you mouthed, gesturing to the speakers, “is too loud!” you covered your ears and shook your head vigorously, repeating your gestures with your frown directed towards him.

Chris simply shrugged, even going to the extent of pretending to yawn, cupping his hand around his ear and knitting his eyebrows together in a wince.

Curse Felix for having cute asshole friends, you thought.

Frankly, Chris didn’t know why he was being such an ass either. Maybe it was the knowledge that that kid sitting with you was interacting with you more than you ever interacted with Chris. Or maybe it was the way you seemed like you’d dressed up more today, fiddled with your hair more and posed for pictures nicely compared to when you were with Jisung.

Maybe Chris was just a teensy weensy bit jealous.

“I’m really sorry, he doesn’t seem like he’s gonna lower down the volume anytime soon,” you leaned closer to apologize, slightly reassured when he shook his head dismissively at you, though it didn’t rid you completely of your guilt.

“I don’t know why he’s doing this,” you explained further, “I brought you here because the music he usually plays is really good,” you explained.

“It’s really fine, he looks like the kind of guy I wouldn’t mess with either...it’s okay.” Jeongin glanced at Chris’ direction furtively, Chris’ sickly sweet smile seeming to intimidate him.

You scoffed at the way Chris had smiled at Jeongin, turning to give him another apologetic frown.

“I’m so sorry, I know you wanted to discuss our project today...but maybe we can go somewhere more conducive next time?” you tried to sound more hopeful, huffing a sigh of relief when you’d seen him nod reassuringly.

Jeongin had bid you goodbye once he’d decided he had received one too many of Chris’ intense stares, making you free to storm over to the counter, hands on your hips to emphasize your dismay.

Only then did Chris decide to lower down the music volume, turning back to face you with an expectant smile as you heard a calmer michael bublé song playing softly through the speakers.

“What’s your deal, Chan?” you frowned, your fingers finding purchase on the hem of your shirt, telling yourself to stand firm! And Don’t let his dimples sway you!

“I’ve told you a thousand times, you can call me ‘Chan’,” there was an amused lilt to his tone, though he figured you weren’t going to repeat yourself with how firmly you were staring at him.

“What deal?” he murmured pensively, bringing a hand up to fiddle with his lip ring and tilting his head at you so casually that you wondered if teasing people just came naturally to him.

"What’s my deal?” you echoed his question in disbelief, “I couldn’t even hear myself think with how loud the music was just now!” you huffed, your frown only deepening when he looked at you apologetically.

“Sorry, sweetie, couldn’t hear you just now. The other customers felt like the music was too soft,” he pouted, something in his expression making you less upset despite how obviously he was lying.

You’d opened your mouth to retort but fell short of coming up with a good enough comeback, choosing to scoff at him instead.

“You’re really manipulative, you know that?“ you huffed, poking your tongue in your cheek and looking down at the menu on the counter (even though you already knew what you were going to order).

"So….I’ll get you your usual, then?” and apparently, so did he.

Determined not to let yourself get more affected by Chan, and even more determined on not mentioning him for the rest of the duration that you would be at peaches, you buried yourself in your reading, flipping your pages so roughly you had to stop every now and then to check if they tore.

Jisung had joined you halfway, when you had switched from angry-reading to slouching in your seat scrolling through social media.

Shoving his phone on top of your (now closed) books with a loud thump, you leaned forward, peering over your phone to see different drawings and designs on the screen, all in black and white.

“That’s nice, did you draw it?” you asked, pinching and pulling at the screen to zoom on the details of the designs.

Jisung snorted, giving you an all-too-satisfied smile, "my dear friend, I’m thinking of getting a tattoo.”

Your eyes widened, “tattoo? Your mom would murder you,” you scoffed.

Jisung shook his head proudly, his eyes wide and insistent, “that’s where you’re wrong.” He smiled proudly, “I asked her already and she’s fine with it as long as I find someone legit to do it.”

Your eyebrows raised, fairly impressed that he had gotten away with it.

“But she’s not paying for it, of course,” he added as an afterthought.

You hated how predictable you were, but at the mention of tattoos, your gaze had wandered over to Chan, who was busy placing a few orders together on a tray. Staring at his sleeve, you figured, he seems like the type that would know about tattoos…right? I mean, considering he has a few of his own.

Don’t say it. don’t say it. don’t say it.

“Maybe you can ask Chan?” you’d winced as the words left your lips, “I mean, he has tattoos, right? Seems like he knows what he’s doing,” you offered, closing your mouth quickly as you saw him approaching your table.

“Oh yeah! Why didn’t I think of that?” Jisung clapped his hands, head snapping around and startling in his seat when Chan had made his presence known.

“Here you go,” he murmured, pushing your peach soda towards you before turning to Jisung, hugging his tray to his chest, “hey, man. Anything for you today?”

Jisung shook his head, “actually I was wondering, you have tattoos, right?”

You had to refrain from making your embarrassment too obvious, pulling the straw of your drink to your lips to feign disinterest in Chan’s response. Your sips only grew longer when Chan leaned his free hand on the back of your chair, his torso next to your head. Since when did his perfume smell so good?

“Yeah,” he replied confidently, shaking his head slightly to get his hair away from his eyes.

“Do you know anywhere I could get something done? Not anywhere shady, of course,” he asked Chan.

Chan let out a giggle, nodding. “Gimme a sec,” he held his hand up in a signal for Jisung to wait, jogging over to the counter and pulling his backpack out from under the counter, fishing something out before jogging back to your table.

Holding his hand out, he showed the both of you two small palm-sized cards. Taking it from him, you realized that they were business cards.

“This is actually my studio...” he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, folding his arms across his chest around the tray, “I’m like...certified and all, so you don’t have to worry,” he told Jisung.

“But you can check it out first if you’re still unsure. If not I can just find someone else to help you,” he added, gesturing as he spoke.

“Cool,” you murmured, gripping the card tightly between your fingers, making a mental note to do some research on this ship once Chan left.

“Alright, man, thanks so much. I’ll let you know.”

Chan smiled at Jisung, patting him on the back lightly before going off to clear the other tables.

“Says here they have an Instagram,” Jisung murmured, scrutinising the card closely.

Telling you the name of the account, you pulled up a page of the shop, your mouth falling open in shock at the number of people he had following the account, not to mention the number of pictures of peoples tattoos on the account. Starting to scroll through the account’s posts, you realized most if not all of his designs were in black and white.

“Do you want your tattoo to have colour? Cause if you do..I don’t think he really does many colour pieces,” you murmured, angling your phone to face him so he could look at the designs with you.

“Honestly...I might just do one of his designs…they’re a lot nicer than whatever I had in mind,” you laughed at the way he stared blankly at your phone screen.

“Do they tag the people who get the tattoos?” You wondered out loud.

Jisung reached over to tap on the picture, tapping on the account only to be led to what you were very sure was Chan’s account.

You shamelessly scanned the account, noticing he rarely posted photos of himself but mostly of the sky or of scenery (with the occasional post-workout photo), and that there were a little to no actual coloured photos in his feed.

“Are you gonna follow him?” You asked Jisung, seeing him nod and give you a shrug.

“Yeah, why not?” he raised his eyebrows in question as if you were asking a stupid question.

“Follow him with me, so it doesn’t seem like I’m trying to kiss ass or anything,” he tapped on your arm incessantly, tapping on his phone before dragging your hand closer to him so he could press the follow button on Chan’s account.

“Jisung!” You pulled your phone away quickly, looking at him with wide eyes, making his eyes widen as well, looking at you in surprise.

“What? What?��

“I didn’t know you were gonna follow him now! He’s literally right there,” you whispered harshly at him.

Casting you an unamused glance, he held his hands up in a shrug.

“It’s no big deal. He probably won’t even think much of it…. I mean, well…unless you want him to,” his expression turned to a more teasing one, narrowing his eyes at you as he traced a heart in the air with his fingers.

“Oh yeah, speaking of which, I was meaning to ask you, how did your meetup with Jeongin go?” he placed his phone back down on the table, looking at you expectantly.

“Bad,” you groaned, “Couldn’t even hear him half the time because someone was playing the cafe music too loud,” you nodded your head in Chan’s direction.

Jisung winced, “So you guys didn’t get to discuss?”

You shook your head, “I told him we could just meet somewhere more conducive the next time since clearly Chan had a problem hearing me,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

“But the music’s fine now, though?”

“Well it wasn’t fine just now, and the dumbest part was that he turned it down after Jeongin left,” you rolled your eyes, knowing that the brown haired boy had no idea you were talking about him as he stood there sipping on his stupid juice box.

“Maybe he did it on purpose,” Jisung offered, making you scoff.

“Beats me, but whatever it is it’s crazy.”

“You’re just mad ‘cause he’s cute.”

You scoffed, huffing at him in disbelief, “no, I’m mad because he ruined my meeting,” your eyes widened in offence.

Jisung narrowed his eyes, letting his imagination run wild, “maybe he wanted to ruin your date,” he conspired, making you roll your eyes.

“One,” you held up a finger, “it wasn’t a date. Two,” you lowered your hand, struggling to find another reason, “you watch too many dramas,” you finally mustered, only serving to fuel Jisung’s entertainment even more.

“It’s easy, Y/N, the next step is to just… slide into his dms, I mean, since you’re already following him.”

You tossed your packet of tissue at him, “shut up, Jisung.”

That same night, you were about to sleep when you’d received a message.

Jisung

1:39am - r we placing bets on whether he’s trying to thirst trap me –

Attached to the message was a screenshot of Chan’s Instagram page with a selfie that he’d just uploaded, the picture showing Chan’s exposed collarbones and above making your eyes widen and close the image quickly, feeling your cheeks redden at the sudden post, unsure why a simple photo of him was making you flustered to no end.

1:41am -probably-

Was all you could type out, debating in your head whether to open the image again, a part of you wanting to see it again but shaking your head decisively, shoving your phone back underneath your pillow, but the image of Chan with damp hair wearing coloured contacts burned in your head.

You found yourself growing more anxious about possibly seeing Chan the next day if you were going to the book cafe (which you probably were). But Jisung’s reply had you thinking that maybe it was the universe trying to shove and kick you towards Chan.

Jisung


1:42am - also ive decided n u are coming w me to his shop to get my tat tmr -

You sighed, casually scrolling up in your chat to have a look at Chan’s selfie again before typing out your reply to Jisung.

1:42am -lovely-

Shoving your phone aside, you closed your eyes, hoping the feeling of yourself being drawn to the image would go away quickly.

===

“Do you even know where the shop is? we’ve been walking for hours,” you whined, earning an eye roll from Jisung who was still faithfully following the google maps directions on his phone.

“First of all, it’s only been 10 minutes. Second of all, I know where it is, look,” he showed you his phone, the automated voice telling him he was about to reach his destination, “ms google says we’re really close by.”

“Okay, fine. Just hurry, I wanna sit down.” you sighed, letting Jisung lead you to a stretch of modern cafés, eventually ending up in front of a neon sign of what looked like a little cartoon snake, the cartoon logo fairly familiar after remembering seeing it on Chan’s Instagram.

Shoving the glass open, you heard small bells identical to those in the cafe signal your entrance. A tall, baby-faced boy wearing thin-rimmed glasses walking out from behind the curtains leading to the back. This boy had piercings too, but the skin exposed by his t-shirt was clean, not marked by any sort of tattoo, giving him a much more innocent appearance as compared to Chan.

“Hey, uh…I booked an appointment here for 2pm?” Jisung spoke, and the tall boy stalked over to their reception area wordlessly, going behind the counter to pull out a thick binder and flipping to the most recent page.

“With Chan?” the boy spoke, earning a nod from you. “Alright. I’m Hyunjin, by the way. Will both of you be getting tattoos?”

Your eyes widened, rushing to protest, “oh, no, no no. Not me, just him. I’m just moral support.” You clarified, earning a snicker from Hyunjin, who nodded in amusement.

“Okay, then,” he shut the binder with a light thud, “Chan’s just finishing up a phone call with another client. He’ll call you when he’s ready but in the meantime you guys can chill here, I guess.” he gestured to the small black leather sofas in the reception area.

You and Jisung did as you were told, the waiting making Jisung more nervous about the nitty gritty details of getting a tattoo.

“Here’s the forms to fill up while you wait,” Hyunjin walked over to pass an electronic tablet to Jisung.

You on the other hand, picked up a binder showing the various designs that the shop had specially come up with that people could choose, showing Jisung a new design every now and then to try to distract him from his nervousness.

“Hey look at this one, this is cute,” you pointed at a cartoon drawing of a kangaroo, flipping to the last page to see that they had pictures and the names of various piercings as well.

Jisung sighed, tone emotionless, “yeah, sure.”

Scrolling through the pictures absently, Jisung leant his head on your shoulder, looking at the binder’s contents with you.

“What about this?” Jisung joked, pointing at the lip piercing, “you could twin with Chan,” he snickered.

You rolled your eyes, “yeah, very funny.”

Sighing, you thought about how Chan looked with the lip piercing, “his lips are really nice…” Your voice trailed off, only realising what you said after. “I mean like, I’m not saying that with any double meaning or whatever I just mean like, you know, generally he has a nice lip shape and a—”

“Yeah save it, we know you have the hots for him.”

You huffed, ignoring Jisung and continuing to flip the pages.

“Wait stop, that one’s nice. I think you’d look good with this one,” he pointed at the picture of the helix piercing.

"This?” you brought your hand up to touch your ear where the piercing would be, “but this is like….the hard part of my ear, won’t it hurt?” you grimaced.

Jisung gave you a look, “c’mon, trust me, I think you’d look great in this….” Jisung lowered his voice, leaning closer to you and glancing at Hyunjin to make sure he wasn’t listening.

“Chan would lose his shit.”

You smacked the binder closed, glaring at Jisung. Holding the binder up threateningly, about to scold him when you heard the beaded curtains move, your head snapping around to spot Chan there, dressed in a black muscle tee and black jeans, dark hair messy on his head.

“Hey guys, Jisung you ready? I’ve already done the stencil so it’s your call,” you waited for Jisung’s answer, too busy gawking at Chan’s tattoo sleeve, now being the first time you weren’t seeing it covered.

Jisung let out a loud sigh, “lemme just go inside and mentally prepare myself first,” he stood up, shaking his head.

Chan held the beaded curtain open for Jisung, letting him walk through first as you took your time to gather your things, not realizing Chan was still holding the curtain open for you.

“Hey, sweetie.” Chan greeted, nodding his head at you with a small smile.

“Hi,” you murmured, suddenly nervous around him, about to sling Jisung’s bag over your shoulder when Chan’s voice cut in.

“Oh, you can actually just leave it here. Hyunjin’ll be here,” you glanced at the boy mentioned who nodded at you before going back to his handphone game.

“Oh, alright then,” you murmured, walking over to where he was.

“I see you’re playing the moral support role today?” Chan let out a small giggle, letting you walk through the curtain before following behind you.

You let out a huff of laughter at the sight of Jisung lying on the chair with his eyes closed, hands clasped as if in prayer.

“Didn’t really have a choice,” you laughed, earning a grim nod from Chan, who put on his gloves and lightly kicked his stool towards the chair Jisung was seated on.

The first thing you noticed about the room was that it was very neat, everything seeming as though it was in its rightful place, giving off a very clean feel to the room, which served to calm you down for some reason. The plants and warm lighting in the room served to add some comfort to the atmosphere.

“Dude, don’t look so deathly, you’re not gonna die. You can take breaks in between if it’s too much,” Chan’s tone was reassuring, which you were thankful for since Jisung really did look pale.

“Okay, you’re right. You know what? I’m not that weak, I can do this,” his eyes shot open, giving Chan a firm nod.

Chan shocked you by giggling, gesturing to a wheeled stool similar to his, “you don’t have to stand, sweetie, you can sit here. This might take a while.”

If you were embarrassed, you didn’t show it, as you padded over to the stool, going next to Jisung and feeling him grab your hand. For a second you were thankful he was so nervous that he couldn’t tease you for Chan’s term of endearment.

Chan had disinfected the area Jisung wanted the tattoo on, a blueish outline of the design transferring onto his skin before he’d started. You appreciated how patient and precise Chan had been to speed up the process, Jisung occasionally squeezing your hand when it hurt.

“How long is this gonna take?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Uhh… this isn’t that big of a piece, so about 2-3 hours? Give and take if he needs breaks in between.”

“So, uh….how long have you been doing this?” you made conversation, the buzzing sound of the tattoo needle growing too loud for your comfort.

Chan’s eyebrows raised, lower lips jutting out in a pout as he thought. “I would say…professionally about 3 years so far?” Your eyebrows raised.

“Started when I was 15,” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Wait, so you’re 19?” Jisung huffed, almost moving to sit up when he was temporarily distracted by the discovery.

Chan huffed, shaking his head, “don’t move, please. But to answer your question, no. I’m not 19. I started my apprenticeship at 15…” he trailed off, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he concentrated on a particular spot of the tattoo.

Sighing, he leaned back slightly to dab at the perspiration on his temples with his arm, making you tempted to take the cloth and do it for him, “I’m 22.”

Your eyes widened, feeling Jisung squeeze your hand for what you knew wasn’t pain.

“Oh,” you murmured, unsure what Jisung’s little reaction meant.

Chan hummed, “Yeah, Jisung mentioned that you guys were entering uni soon,” he stated, earning an affirmative nod from you.

“Yeah, we’re turning 20 soon,” Jisung murmured, eyes open now, seeming to have adjusted to the pain level.

Now it was Chan’s turn to be surprised. “Interesting,” he murmured.

“Uh-huh” Jisung spoke, and the way his tone sounded was making you nervous, not knowing what nonsense he was about to spout next. “Y/N’s already so old and still doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

Chan flushed at the implication, hoping his shyness wasn’t too obvious. Meanwhile you were trying to convince yourself that you weren’t imagining the pink tint growing more obvious on Chan’s ears.

"Nothing to be ashamed of,” Chan mustered after a short silence, his volume dropping considerably, “I mean, I’m older than you, and at this point of time I’m not dating either.”

Jisung struggled to contain his excitement, thinking of ways that he could get you and Chan alone together, coming up with what he would deem to be the most brilliant idea.

“Hey, Chan. Do you guys do piercings here too?”

“Aren’t you a little too talkative for someone in pain,” you muttered through gritted teeth, shooting a glare at Jisung—which he promptly ignored.

Chan smiled, tilting his head in question, “you’re not even done with your tattoo and you’re already thinking about piercings?” he laughed.

“Not for me, man, for Y/N.”

Chan made a surprised sound, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he focused on a particular part of Jisung’s tattoo, leaning back with a small sigh, “oh, is that so? what kind?”

“Uh…you know the helix one?” you murmured, your hand unconsciously going up to your ear to fidget.

Chan hummed, “yeah, I can do that. You’ve already made up your mind?” You nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“I guess…will it hurt, though?”

Chan leaned back, shrugging, “Depends, a tiny bit more than your average piercing?”

“Oh…well, then, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad,” you murmured.

Jisung grinned at you, which went unnoticed by Chan, who spoke seriously, filled with concern for your friend, “you’re doing really great, by the way. We’ll probably be done a lot earlier than expected. Just let me do the finishing touches and you’ll be free.”

You fiddled with Jisung’s fingers for the rest of the duration, trying not to be too obvious when you stared at Chan. How his eyebrows would furrow just ever so slightly in his concentration, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips or play with his piercing when he was filling in the shading for Jisung’s tattoo.

Just as the waiting was starting to get even a little unbearable, your leg beginning to bounce restlessly, you saw Chan lean back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“All done,” he smiled, patting Jisung on the shoulder with one hand as he set his equipment aside, taking some cling wrap and wrapping it around Jisung’s wrist.

Releasing a relieved sigh, you silently thanked the heavens that it was over because you really needed to pee.

You’d excused yourself to the washroom as Chan told Jisung about the aftercare tips, coming back to see that Jisung had already paid for his tattoo.

“So uh..” you saw Chan leaning against the doorframe with one hand shoved into his pocket, a few strands of the beaded curtain draped over his shoulder which he fiddled with, “you still up for the piercing? Or would you rather come back another day?” He asked you, bringing a hand up to push his hair out of his forehead, his hair falling back against his forehead gently.

You hummed, taking your phone out to see if you would have any other free periods during this week, realising that the only big period of rest you would have this week would be now, and you figured you would rather adjust to the new piercing over the weekend instead of in the middle of the week.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll just do it today,” you shrugged, glancing at Hyunjin who was eyeing Chan suspiciously, finding the boy’s behaviour to be a little out of the ordinary.

“Cool, I’ll be in the back…just uh… come in and let me know when you’re ready,” he gave you a soft smile, the metal of his lip ring shining as it caught the light in the room.

“Have fun,” Jisung waggled his eyebrows at you once Chan went back, making you frown at him.

“What do you mean ‘have fun’? You’re staying with me,” your expression turned grim when you saw the way he was poorly stifling his laughter, “aren’t you?”

Jisung sucked in a sharp breath, grimacing, “yeah…about that…I actually have to go meet my group mates for something, but you’ll be fine,” he waved a hand at you dismissively, already beginning to backtrack out of the studio.

“Think of it as more time spent with Chan,” Jisung wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, turning quickly to leave the shop, leaving you dumbfounded in your place.

Turning around, you caught Hyunjin’s gaze, seeing the boy narrow his eyes at you, “are you and….Chan….you know…?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, your lips parting upon realising what he meant, shaking your head and waving your hands dismissively.

“Oh my god, no, really.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you, making you even more flustered that he was acting like he knew something you didn’t.

“No, seriously, nothing’s up. Stop looking at me like that.”

You quickened your footsteps in heading to the backroom, your cheeks flushed and eyes wide as you spotted Chan sitting on his stool, using his phone before looking up when you entered the room, a soft smile appearing on his face.

How can someone who smiles like this be the same person behind that selfie last night, you wondered.

“Ji..sung?” Chan’s voice trailed off, raising his eyebrows in question, setting his phone down on the counter attached to the wall.

“Oh, he actually just left…he had to meet his group members,” you murmured, gesturing outside.

Chan got up from his seat with a small grunt, walking over to you, making you confused as to why he was suddenly walking towards you.

You’d let out a confused hum, your voice coming out softer than intended, watching with wide eyes as he brought his hands up to yours, sighing in relief when he’d simply taken your bag and jacket from you.

“You can just take a seat on the chair if you want, but don’t recline it just sit on the seat,” he instructed, and you did as such, swinging your legs as they hung from the chair, the toe of your shoe grazing the tiled floor occasionally.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, bringing the various equipment he needed on the trolley, rolling it noisily over to where you were.

You nodded, making him laugh.

“Good.”

“Good? Isn’t it bad if I’m too stressed?” Your confusion was evident in your tone, making him shake his head at you.

Chan smiled, “it’s better to be nervous than over confident when it comes to these things.”

He took a new pair of gloves from the box, picking up a mirror from the tray and passing it to you, “hold this for me, hmm?”

Taking the disinfectant wipes, he pushed your hair aside, the constant falling of your hair making him giggle, “sorry can I just uh,” he shifted so he was standing behind you, bunching your hair into a ponytail, his hands brushing against the skin of your neck when he gathered the hair, almost making you shiver.

Securing it with the hairband around his wrist, he looked at you from the front, nodding at his handiwork.

“Sorry,” Chan added as an afterthought, “hope you don’t mind.” He put on his gloves, the metal of his bracelet peeking out from under the latex.

You shook your head, quietly observing his actions through his reflection in the mirror out of sheer anxiousness. Watching carefully as he held your ear with his first two fingers, disinfecting the area of your ear before picking up the marker.

Chan had crouched down slightly, pursing his lips in concentration as he made a tiny dot with the marker on your ear, leaning back so you could have a better look.

“Is this placement okay?” he asked, earning a nod from you.

“Great,” he gave you a close lipped smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks, “wow your ears are really red,” he commented with a laugh.

Laughing half-heartedly in reply, you shrugged, “think it’s cause of the air conditioning,” you lied, not knowing he would take you seriously, walking over to where he’d put your things and grabbing your jacket with his elbows, dropping it onto your lap.

“Sorry, it’d be a lot less awkward if I could use my hands,” he laughed, and you weren’t able to keep yourself from smiling.

After he’d prepared the needle and the studs, you tried not to let your tension be too obvious when he leaned down so he could be more precise. Funnily enough, though you were about to get a piercing, you were less nervous for that as compared to the fact that Chan was so close to you.

“Are you excited to graduate?” he asked you in an attempt to distract you, earning a shrug from you.

“I guess,” you murmured, Chan having successfully directed your attention elsewhere, “a little scared, though.”

“Of?” he asked, his gentle tone prompting you to elaborate.

“I guess I’m not really like…scared, I’m just kind of anxious? like…I don’t really know what to expect,” you laughed, earning a confused sound from him.

“Well if you think about it like that, then of course it’ll be negative,” Chan laughed.

“I mean, I wouldn’t know what it’s like because I didn’t go to uni but you know….maybe if you think of it as like a...i’m doing this so that I can do this in the future kind of thing then it’d be more exciting than scary,” Chan offered, moving to your other ear.

“Well…I guess that’s true,” you murmured, about to continue when you’d felt the needle piercing your skin, letting out a yelp, your hands unconsciously finding purchase on the closest thing to you, which (unfortunately and fortunately for you) was his torso, “why didn’t you give me any warning!” You hissed.

"Too late for a countdown now, huh,” he shrugged, fitting the stud onto your ear.

“All done,” he giggled, stepping away from you to set the needle into a tray for cleaning.

“You know what to do, right? Like…to care for your piercing?” Chan asked you, earning a nod from you.

“So, I’m done here?” You asked, watching Chan as he set his things aside to be sterilized, glancing at the clock on the wall at the side of the room.

“Pretty much,” he hummed, bringing up a hand to adjust his hair.

You hated how much the tension in the room was building, as if the both of you were just holding back on what you’d wanted to say. Almost deciding to walk out before Chan had finally spoken up.

“Are you gonna get dinner with Jisung?” he asked, looking elsewhere and pretending to be busy with throwing his gloves away.

“Nope,” you walked over to where he’d placed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and taking your phone out to tell Jisung you were done getting the piercing.

“I’m probably just gonna go home and order in, or something,” you murmured, slightly preoccupied with texting to notice the way he’d perked up at the sound of you being free for the evening.

Chan walked through the curtains to the main reception area, leaning over Hyunjin who was sitting at the desk, fishing the tablet for you to fill in the form, murmuring a soft ‘sorry’ to Hyunjin, who was busy playing his phone games.

“Shouldn’t you have given that before she got the piercing,” Hyunjin whispered pointedly, his words going ignored by Chan, who knew very well that he was flustered into forgetting that small detail.

“Just fill these up and you’re all set,” he pushed them over the counter towards you, and you’d typed your details in quickly, eager to get Hyunjin’s suspicious gaze off of you.

“How much do I have to pay you?” You asked, getting ready to fish your wallet from your bag, confused when you heard Chan make a strangled sound of protest.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Consider it ‘on the house’,” he told you, making Hyunjin’s eyebrows raise in question.

“What? But why? I mean, your shop is doing pretty well, services like that would probably be really expensive, right?” You gripped your wallet tighter, however he didn’t seem like he was giving you an option. Not with the way he was looking at you, that was for sure.

Hyunjin had ended his game already, nudging his glasses higher on his nose bridge. He pressed his lips in a thin, firm line, hoping it would help him stifle his laughter as you continued.

“But I can’t just let you do that, I mean, this is your business, you’d lose a lot of money if you just give people free services like this, you know?”

Chan almost snorted, “trust me, I won’t.”

You wracked your brain for other options on how to persuade him, “okay, but there has to be some other way I can repay you,” you stated, not expecting Chan to reply so quickly.

“How does grabbing dinner with me now sound?” The words flowed from his lips so naturally that even Hyunjin was surprised, not used to seeing his usually shy friend act so confidently around people.

Hyunjin let a small giggle escape him, narrowing his eyes at Chan who had kicked at his chair as a silent threat.

You opened your mouth and closed it back, unable to form a response in your shock, “uh…I um…” you fumbled to find the right words, making Chan let out the tiniest giggle.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he assured you, “I’m just offering, you know...since you said just now that you wouldn’t have dinner at home anyway,” he gestured with his hands as he spoke, the silver chain around his wrist coming to your attention as he moved his hands around.

“No, no..uh,” you swallowed, clearing your throat softly, “yes? Yes, that sounds great, Chan,” you mustered out as confidently as you could.

“Cool, meet you outside, then? Lemme just go and grab my stuff,” he flashed you a small close-lipped smile before walking to the back.

“Bye?” You murmured to Hyunjin, who turned his narrowed eyes away from Chan to direct them towards you instead.

“I swear...there’s definitely something going on with you two…” Hyunjin muttered, tapping at his phone quickly before shaking his head abruptly, “never mind, I won’t harass you about it….yet. Have a good dinner,” his expression changed to a smiling one, waving at you as if nothing happened.

When you’d gone out of the tattoo shop, you only had to wait for barely a minute before you heard the door open behind you, Chan stepping out, now wearing a black leather jacket over his shirt with his bag in hand.

“Did you have any dinner place in mind?” You asked him, seeing him nod.

“Do you like tacos?”

===

“So, how come you’re working at peaches if you already have that whole setup at your tattoo studio?” You’d asked him during your dinner. You’d both already finished eating but were in no rush to leave, sipping your drinks slowly as an excuse to talk more.

“Felix told me he was looking for someone who could fill in for him part-time for whenever he had to go for classes, so I offered, since I don’t usually take appointments in the morning,” he explained, sipping his drink, fiddling with the straw between his thumb and index finger as he spoke.

“So you work in the afternoon?” he nodded.

“I work from around twelve to seven,” he told you casually, and at the mention of time you’d glanced at your phone, realising it was way before seven when he’d asked you to eat dinner with him.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “wait, then doesn’t that mean that you left work before you were supposed to?”

Chan’s eyes widened momentarily, bringing the straw to his lips ever so slowly, giving you a shrug in feigned nonchalance. “Nope,” he told you calmly, “I leave after my clients are done for the day, and I usually take 1 client a day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “are you lying right now?” you pretended to disapprove, since you knew you were past the point of saying you didn’t enjoy spending time with Chan.

Chan simply grinned, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of his dimples, hearing him let out an exaggerated sigh, “depends.”

He rest his chin on one of his hands, his fingers going up to fiddle with his lip piercing, only now coming to your notice that he’d changed the jewellery to a bigger silver ring.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you, making him gesture with his finger to his lips, earning a nod from you.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, “I’ve had it for really long so you can like press or tug on it or whatever but it won’t hurt,” he said, his wording making your imagination wander, ears tinting red as you tried to dismiss the thoughts of kissing Chan that popped into your head.

“Your ears are red again,” he pointed out, an amused lilt to his tone, knowing exactly why.

In your distress, you tugged his hair tie off your hair, adjusting your hair so it would cover your ears, narrowing your eyes at him.

“It’s only ‘cause you said it like that,” you huffed.

“Like what?” he raised an eyebrow at you, feigning innocence as he continued, “all I meant was if I pull on it like this it won’t hurt…” he demonstrated by using his index finger and thumb to fiddle with his piercing.

“Unless, that wasn’t what you were thinking?” he teased, leaning closer to you over the table.

You got up abruptly, “we should get going,” you diverted the topic quickly, ignoring Chan’s laughter behind you as you made your way to pay the bill, managing to do so successfully before Chan had made it to the register, earning a pout from him.

“You pay for my piercing, I pay for our dinner. Simple,” you shrugged, walking out of the restaurant and letting him follow behind you.

“Is your place near here?” Chan asked.

Your eyes widened, not understanding why he was asking you that, a million possibilities of reasons why running through your head about what he could possibly have intended from asking that.

Chan realised your internal conflict after a few seconds, his expression flustered when he realised, “no, no! I meant like, how are you going back home since it’s late,” he explained slowly, hands gesturing slowly as he spoke.

You hummed, “I think I might have a bus I can take from here, but it’ll probably take a while,” you shrugged, eyeing him curiously when he’d taken his phone out of his pocket.

“Address?” He asked, and you told him as such, “your place is actually pretty near mine, I stay a couple streets down. Let me see if I can book us a car or something, I reckon it’ll be faster than taking the bus,” he murmured, and you watched him type on his phone quickly before a triumphant smile graced his features.

Letting out a surprised hum, he showed you his phone, “it’s less than 10 dollars if we share a car, do you want to?”

You nodded with a shrug, “sure,” taking your phone from your pocket to check the time, seeing that you’d gotten a text from Jisung.

Jisung


8:08pm -school starts next week???-

You sighed in realisation, making Chan frown at you curiously.

“What’s wrong?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “nah, it’s nothing. I just realised I’m starting school next week, but I feel like I haven’t done anything during my holidays,” you groaned, turning to Chan with an exaggerated sad look on your face, seeing his eyebrows lift in an expression you would use to comfort a crying child.

“Jisung and I had so many things we planned to do like…go to amusement parks or like….go camping or have a sleepover, but…we just ended up spending all our time at peaches,” you laughed.

“Oh, you guys wanted to go camping?” Chan asked, an idea sparking in his mind when you’d nodded affirmatively at him.

“That’s pretty…coincidental… Hyunjin and I were actually planning on going camping next week, do you wanna come?”

Your eyes widened, not expecting such an opportunity to come so quick for you.

“Really? Where were you guys planning to go?” You asked, and you’d felt his hand gently touch your forearm, the other hand swiping around on his phone before he showed you pictures of what looked like a cabin.

“There’s this place out of town where you can sort of rent the area and you can like, do barbecues and campfires, it’s really nice,” he smiled, “oh, and there’s like this lake nearby the site that looks really really beautiful in the morning. And you don’t even have to pay because Hyunjin’s parents bought a part of it so he can just use it privately,” you nodded, impressed at how convenient and attractive the place sounded.

“But…isn’t it kind of weird if it’s just me going with the both of you? Do you mind if I ask Jisung along too?” You asked hesitantly, a sheepish expression on your face.

Chan laughed, nodding as he wordlessly grabbed your arm, leading you to what you assumed was the car you booked, opening the door for you to go in first before he slid in after you.

You greeted the driver, who had given you a friendly greeting in return as well. One thing you noticed (regrettably or fortunately, you wouldn’t say) was that the back seat was a little cramped, the seats angled in such a way that you would tend to slide towards the middle. Being bigger than you, Chan occupied more space compared to you, causing you to practically be knee to knee when you sat comfortably.

“Also,” Chan yawned, leaning back in his seat, “to answer your question, yes, of course you can ask Jisung to come along. Felix is coming too since he’s been begging me to bring him.”

Chan shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, sliding down in his seat. “we’ll probably only stay over for a night so you don’t need to pack much I guess…and Hyunjin can give us a ride to and from the cabin.”

You nodded, covering your mouth when you’d yawned as well. “Great,” you sighed, turning your head to look at him only to see him already looking at you with a tired expression, his gaze darting from your eyes to your ear.

Feeling shy from his staring but too flustered to confront him about it, you simply let your gaze fall to your lap, thinking about the upcoming camping trip.

“I don’t have your number, do I?” He murmured, seeing you shake your head no.

Unlocking your phone, you passed it to him so he could enter his contact, not missing the way he’d put his name as Chan instead of Chris, adding a wolf emoji behind his name.

“Thanks….for the dinner,” you murmured, seeing as you were getting closer to your house, figuring you had better say it now than never.

Chan huffed, “I should be thanking you, for not rejecting the offer,” he told you.

You scoffed, not believing that this was the first time, “I mean, you’re always swarmed at peaches, pretty sure it’s not the first time someone accepted your dinner offers,” you joked, regretting your joke when you saw the way he smiled at you, as if he knew something you didn’t.

“It kind of is….maybe ‘cause I never had the time to….offer to get dinner with all my work going on,” he said casually.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, your mouth running faster than your mind could process, “so what made you do it this time?” you laughed.

Chan shrugged, leaning forward to rest his head lightly on the headrest of the seat, turning to look at you with an unreadable expression, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I don’t know, sweetie. Something about you just seems to keep pulling me in,” he shrugged.

"Why do you keep calling me sweetie?” You let out a nervous huff of laughter, looking elsewhere in fear that looking at him would make you more flustered, not knowing what sort of confidence came over you for you to ask him so boldly.

“Would you rather me call you something else? Honey? Baby—”

“How about my name?” You interrupted before he could go any further, your reaction seemed to have amused him to no end, making him erupt in a fit of giggles.

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He scrunched his nose up in distaste, making you scoff.

“Why do I get the feeling that you won’t stop even if I asked you to?” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Pushing himself off where he leaned against his seat, he’d leaned dangerously close to you, your heartbeat starting to race at his proximity before he’d abruptly ruffled your hair, leaning back as if nothing happened.

“You are absolutely right,” he had a triumphant smile on his face.

Shaking your head in feigned disapproval, you saw that the car was slowing down, the driver trying to find your apartment complex.

“Yep, you can stop here,” you told the driver, slinging your bag onto your shoulder before waving at Chan.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, smiling out of your sheer shyness that you couldn’t explain (or maybe you could, but just didn’t want to admit it—ignorance is bliss after all).

He gave you a tired smile, tilting his head as he waved at you. You were already getting out of the car, leaning down before you closed the door since he seemed like he was about to say something.

“Goodnight…Y/N.”

===

After that day, Chan had started texting you, and you weren’t sure what to make of it, not wanting to misinterpret friendliness for flirting but at the same time not being able to stop yourself from thinking it was as such.

You would see him at peaches, and he would come sit with you during his breaks, and you would spend time lounging at the sofas reading books and sharing funny or interesting things about the book with each other, much to Jisung’s entertainment.

“I see that now you have Chan you don’t need me to accompany you to peaches anymore?” he would tell you, not without a dramatic sigh.

“That’s not true, we just hang out during his breaks,” you shrugged, nervous that Jisung’s questioning would actually make sense.

“And tell me again why you guys don’t just decide to date?” you shushed him, not wanting Felix to overhear your conversation since he was clearing a table near where you and Jisung were sitting.

Felix said he’d given Chan the day off since he had pretty big pieces to do for his clients these few days, which according to Felix would take at least 7 hours each and left Chan feeling dead tired afterwards.

“It’s not up to me,” you shrugged.

Jisung gave you an unamused look, “oh, really.”

You glared at him, “you better not try anything weird when we go camping or I'll really throw you in the lake.”

“Over my dead body,” Jisung stuck his tongue out at you, “I’ll see you guys married before I let you kill me.”

And it seemed Jisung really did mean it, because when the day came for you guys to go camping, you had met with Jisung and Felix outside peaches to wait for Hyunjin and Chan to come pick you guys up, the two boys showing up eventually, with Chan sitting in the passenger’s seat.

Momentarily relieved that you wouldn’t be put in another stressful situation of squeezing in the backseat with Chan, your relief was short-lived when Jisung had eyed the passenger’s seat, executing the first step of his self-proclaimed brilliant plan.

“I want the front seat! Please, I get motion sickness,” he deadpanned, knowing Chan would be worried enough for him to switch seats with him.

Chan had his hood covering his head when he got out of the car, looking more than a little tired as he murmured a soft greeting to you, surprising you when he pulled you into a hug, earning you an excited smile from Jisung who was already seated in the passenger’s seat. He greeted Felix with a hug as well, letting you get into the car before he did, Felix going in after him.

“Sorry, I really wanted to talk to you but I’m really tired, hope you don’t mind if I just take a nap,” he murmured to you, earning a dismissive shake of the head from you.

“No, no, not at all, go ahead,” you assured him, “it’s a pretty long ride anyway, might as well use it.”

You didn’t miss the appreciative smile he gave you before he leaned his head back on the headrest, folding his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes.

“He didn’t get much sleep last night, was up late doing designs for one of his clients,” Hyunjin murmured after a while when Felix had commented on how Chan had fallen asleep so quickly.

You nodded, figuring some clients would have more specific demands for tattoos since their shop was pretty well known.

Looking out the window as Hyunjin drove, you gawked at how nice the scenery was, preparing yourself for the turn that he was about to make, your body tensing up when you’d felt Chan’s head fall gently against your shoulder, having slid down in his seat after falling asleep.

Not wanting to wake him, you silently hoped your shoulder wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for his head, trying to stay still so you wouldn’t wake him up.

Jisung had turned around to tell you about a ‘wild boar’ he claimed he’d spotted, stopping himself when he saw Chan’s head resting on your shoulder, pressing his lips together.

“I think the universe is helping me execute my plan.” Bringing a first up to his mouth, he pretended to tear up.

Glaring at him, you ignored both him and the way Chan unconsciously leaned into you as he slept, relaxing after a while as you grew to find it comfortable.

“We’re almost here,” Felix told you, giving you an amused look, “pretty comfortable over there, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile from your face, shaking your head.

When Hyunjin had stopped the car, him, Jisung and Felix were already getting out of the car to help shift the things out from the trunk, and you’d shifted your body to the side as carefully as you could, lifting Chan’s head from your shoulder gently, one of your palms against his cheek, a part of your heart fluttering when you felt him lean into your touch.

Snapping out of it, you cleared your throat softly.

“Chan,” you murmured, tapping his hand to wake him, his eyebrows furrowing before his hands came up to rub his eyes, leaning away from your hand.

“Y/N?” He murmured.

“We’re already at the cabin,” you huffed in amusement.

Chan opened his eyes, glancing at his surroundings, “oh, sorry,” he turned away, pushing the door open and getting out quickly, and you swore you saw his ears tint pink, wondering if he was actually shy or if you were just hallucinating.

Once you were out, you saw Jisung waving you over, “help me,” he whined, making you roll your eyes, but you left Chan’s side to go help him bring the cooler of drinks and whatnot into the cabin, Hyunjin choosing now to explain the room situation.

“You guys can choose roomies now, I’m probably rooming with Chan,” Hyunjin raised his hand to announce once you were all in the cabin.

“We’ll take the other room,” Jisung shouted, already grabbing your hand to pull you aside as if you were picking teams in school instead of just deciding roommate situations.

Felix laughed, nodding, “I’ll take the last room then.”

Only when you’d gone into the room you realised that it was already about mid-afternoon, and you had heard Felix shout something about going to play at the lake, hearing shouts of agreement from Hyunjin and Chan.

“Did you bring clothes for swimming?” Jisung asked you, and you answered him with a shake of the head.

“Wasn’t planning on swimming,” you told him.

Jisung looked at you, erupting into boisterous laughter, “shit, me neither….black shirt should do, don’t you think?”

You shook your head, laughing with him, “not like we have much of a choice.”

After getting changed, you’d met up with the rest of them outside the cabin, Hyunjin leading the group of you to a lake near a small waterfall, Felix, Hyunjin and Jisung jumping in first, leaving you and Chan behind.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” you asked Chan.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he gave you a look, “do you know how to swim?”

You nodded confidently…before shrugging, “I know the basics, like floating,” you said to defend your lack of skill.

Chan brought his tattooed arm over his chest to grab his other shoulder, “doesn’t matter, nothing to be ashamed of,” he told you casually, getting into the water and holding a hand out for you to take.

Stepping down carefully, you’d used Chan as a leverage for you to get into the water, almost stumbling when you’d stepped on a particularly slippery part of land, Chan quickly reaching his hands out to your waist to steady you, your face and neck heating up from how flustered you were.

Chan had helped you till you were able to walk on your own, surprising you when you found that the water reached up to your chest.

You heard Jisung call out for a game of chicken, deciding you would split into pairs and the losers would have to cook for later.

“I pick Felix! He’s super light!” Hyunjin called out, raising his hand to make his point known.

You were about to call for Jisung when he’d raised his hands.

“I’m the referee!” he shouted, making you gape at him, knowing this was probably another part of his plan.

“Alright, so me and Y/N are one team,” Chan said, nodding at Jisung.

Turning to you, Chan brushed his hair away from his forehead, wetting his lips before he spoke.  

“You can’t have me on your shoulders, I’m too heavy,” Chan laughed, making you cover your face.

“I can’t believe Jisung,” you muttered to yourself.

“what was that?” Chan asked, already making his way in front of you, and you saw that Felix was already on Hyunjin’s shoulders, the only advantage they had visibly being that Hyunjin was taller.

“Nothing,” you blurted, glaring at Jisung when he gestured for you to hurry up, Chan bending down in front of you to make it easier for you to climb on, his hand going behind your leg to push you up, and you’d settled down quickly, trying to see if you could balance well.

“Is it okay if I put my hands here? Is it stable?” you felt Chan place his hands around your shins, but you still felt like it was pretty wobbly. Either that or you were just in a generally wobbly mood from ending up in this situation with Chan.

“Not really, it still feels like I could fall,” you hummed,  your breath hitching when he’d moved his hands up to place them above your knees, hoping he hadn’t felt the way you tensed up. (He did)

“Is this better?” he asked, making you blurt out a small ‘yeah’, oblivious to the looks Hyunjin and Jisung were exchanging.

“Okay firstly the rules are: have fun, no kicking or biting, once you get knocked off you lose even if you’re still on your partner’s shoulders,” Jisung mustered his best announcer’s voice as he explained the rules.

But a part of you couldn’t focus with the way Felix was taunting you and Chan was drumming his fingers on your thigh.

“Ready?” Jisung lifted his hands as though he were starting a boxing match. “Go!”

You almost screamed with how quickly Hyunjin had advanced, Felix reaching out his hands towards you which you responded instinctively to by holding your hands out in front of you, palms facing him, pushing at his hands.

“Y/N I think the point is to push him off, not hi-five him to death,” Jisung cackled, making Chan laugh as well, Hyunjin moving to splash water in Chan’s direction.

Once Felix had caught hold of your hands, you knew you were in for it, he’d interlocked your fingers, trying to sway you left and right in the hopes that it would make you more wobbly.

“Having a good time on your date up there?” Hyunjin called out sarcastically, starting to get tired of balancing from all of Felix’s movements.

You swore you felt Chan grip your legs tighter from Hyunjin’s statement, making you eager to end the game.

Felix had let his grip loosen almost momentarily in his distraction when he glanced at Chan for his reaction, and you took that as an opportunity to find his weak spot, tickling the area under his wrist, making him draw his hand back quickly with a squeal, all of this happening while Hyunjin was trying to rub his eyes, Felix’s hand on his head making his hair press against his eyes.

Once you saw the opportunity, you prodded at Felix’s side, his ticklish reaction sending him falling off Hyunjin’s shoulders, a loud splash sounding when he landed in the water. Followed by shouts from Jisung and a loud groan from Hyunjin, of course.

“Hyunjin and Felix are on dinner duty, then!” You cheered, your hands going down to Chan’s hair when you almost lost your balance in your excitement, accidentally tugging on his hair, making his hands fly up to yours, having to keep himself from letting his eyes roll back, peeling your hands away from his hair.

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s get you down from there,” Chan laughed nervously, making you realize what you were doing, letting him bend down so you could get off of him, jumping in the water to get used to it again.

You’d made your way over to Felix, wanting to make sure he was okay, seeing him wiping the water from his face, “are you alright?” you asked.

“Look at him, gloating,” Felix pretended to be upset, directing your attention towards Chan, who looked your way, but you looked away immediately when he’d lifted his shirt slightly to keep it from clinging to his skin.

Dear God, you hoped Jisung hadn’t seen that.

“Wow, Chan, okay we get it!” Jisung yelled, making Chan drop his hands, a shy smile on his face.

Jisung looked at you with wide eyes, “did you see that?!” He whispered harshly to you while Chan was busy discussing something with Hyunjin.

Felix gave you a look, “why does he seem like he wanted you to see that?” He pointed at Jisung, making you shake your head, for lack of a better response.

“Also, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Felix continued, lowering his voice so they wouldn’t hear, “do you guys like…as in like you and Chan...like is there something going on?” Felix asked, his eyes widening in curiosity.

As you glanced over at the subject of your conversation, making eye contact with Chan as he gave you a soft smile, unknowingly returning the smile before turning back to face Felix.

“What makes you think that?” you murmured, feigning confidence.

“Well, for one, that weird smile thing you guys just did,” Jisung pointed out, making you roll your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean anything, he’s just…really friendly,” you shrugged, frowning when Jisung leant over to whisper something in Felix’s ear, after which he’d left promptly to head over to Hyunjin and Chan.  

Felix looked at you with a teasing smirk, “yeah, very friendly from the looks of it,” he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

About to react defensively (as usual), your attention was diverted from Felix when you heard Hyunjin clear his throat, “hey guys, I think me and Felix will head back to wash up first so we won’t start preparing dinner too late,” you heard scattered murmurs of agreement before Hyunjin had started heading out of the lake.

“Stay with him,” Jisung instructed you urgently, making your eyes widen in confusion, seeing as Chan looked as though he had no plans on leaving the lake.

Increasing his volume, he announced, “I’ll be heading back with them too, you guys can just take your time, I’ll call you guys back when we’re done washing up,” Jisung waved, following behind Felix and Hyunjin.

Hyunjin turned around to wink at you, “have fun,” he drawled, which as much as you tried to ignore, you couldn’t help but read into.

Chan made his way to where you were in the water, tilting his head at you expectantly, “you’re staying here too?” he asked, his unexpected question catching you by surprise.

Nodding slowly, you’d brought your hand to brush against the surface of the water gently, “figured I could use a little break too.”

There was a hint of a smile on Chan’s face, nodding, “you still scared about school?”

You contemplated the question, realising that you were in fact a lot less anxious about school compared to a few weeks ago. “I’m alright, really… what about you?”

Chan shrugged, “usual, I guess,” he led you to an area of the lake that was more calm, the sun beginning to grow less harsh, “if you’re bored waiting for school to start you’re always welcome to come to the studio, you know.”

“Jisung’s been telling me the exact same thing,” you said with a laugh, “says I could get myself a tattoo while i’m at it.”

You hadn’t expected Chan to be so serious about it, “well, you can, you know.”

Shaking your head, you let out a huff of laughter, almost shy under his gaze as you averted your gaze, “oh, no, i’m not really too keen,” you said.

Your words had struck a nerve with Chan, making him wonder if his tattoos were making you uncomfortable. Though he’d bounced back quickly, lighting up with a smile, his dimples showing obviously as he did so.

“My friends and I used to come here a lot…sometimes I would come here just to chill and just like…float around, it’s pretty nice. Especially in the early mornings,” he told you, using his hands to push the water around.

“I don’t really know how to explain it,” he admitted, “it was a really nice feeling.” He told you, though he himself didn’t sound very satisfied with the adjective he’d chosen.

“If you could compare it to a feeling you get when you do something else, what would it be?” you asked out of sheer curiosity, earning a thoughtful hum from him.

“Lemme think about it?” He requested, earning a nod from you before he continued, “you mentioned just now that you knew how to float, right?” he smirked, earning another nose scrunch from you.

“Well, by float I kind of meant like…yeah, you know maybe I kind of exaggerated that a little,” you gave him a sheepish smile.

Chan pressed his lips together in an attempt to stifle his laugh, nodding as you felt him grasp your wrists.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, and you didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed at how quickly you nodded.

I mean, you let this man near your face with a needle, it was a little too late to say you didn’t trust him at this point.

Angling your body so your side was facing him, you felt his hand go behind your back, “relax,” he let out an amused huff, making you sigh, nodding as you tried your best to relax your muscles.

“Now, just like, lean back, and make sure you look up.”

You did as you were told, keeping your hands by your side and your head up facing the sky, all the while feeling his hands behind your back supporting you, a strange feeling of calm washing over you as you looked at the sky which was beginning to set.

Chan noticed it too, the way he felt you relax under his touch, enjoying how calm you looked now, happy that he could share this experience with you.

After you decided you were calm enough, you leaned forward, Chan’s hands instinctively going to the nape of your neck  to steady you as you got up, with you ending up facing him, his hand still gently cupping the nape of your neck, his other hand finding its way onto your waist.

“How was it?” he breathed, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“I think I get why you like doing that…it felt…nice,” you murmured, “have you thought of it yet?”

Chan nodded, a strange feeling building within him that he could only describe as warmth, feeling as though something in him was drawing him closer to you without him knowing.

“It’s kind of like...calling you after a long day,” a shy giggle leaving his lips after his statement.

Your breath hitched, the feeling of receiving such personal information rendering you at a loss of words. Unconsciously, there was a feeling of want building inside of you when you could see Chan leaning in, your head unconsciously tilting upwards, not daring to close your eyes yet, and his lips were barely inches away from yours, so close that you really thought that Chan was going to kiss you in the middle of this lake.

Though just as his other hand had went under the water to touch your waist gently, you figured the universe had decided it wasn’t time yet.

“Guys! I’m back! You guys can go shower now!” you jumped when you heard Jisung’s voice, immediately moving away so you could put some distance between you and Chan.

Chan brought his hands up to his ears, pressing and rubbing them firmly, getting out of the lake first to help you get out of the water, all the while Jisung had been eyeing you suspiciously.

The walk back was otherwise silent, with Jisung going off to disturb Felix and Hyunjin while you took a shower. Once you were done, you took your time drying your hair, seeing a text from Jisung come in asking you to hurry up.

Walking over to the barbecue pit you noticed Chan had taken over for Felix, grilling the meat with an ease that had let you know just how much he’d probably done it before.

“That smells really good,” you hummed, seeing Chan look up from the grill to give you a shy smile, nodding at you.

“D’you want some?” he asked, holding a small piece he’d just cut between the tongs, blowing on it before holding it out for you, a hand cupped underneath in case it fell.

Feeling Hyunjin’s gaze on you, as well as Felix and Jisung, you felt put on the spot, leaning over to take the piece between your teeth, letting out a satisfied hum at the taste.

“Alright, sorry to interrupt your…whatever this is, but we’re gonna steal Y/N for a while, so bye,” Jisung waved, linking his arm around your elbow and dragging you away with a very giggly Felix.

“Okay, let’s begin the meeting,” Felix announced authoritatively once you were seated at the campfire area. Jisung joined in on the joke smoothly, “okay, I’ll take minutes.”

“Why am I here, again?” You sighed, fiddling with the side of the foldable chair you were sitting on, crossing your legs to get into a more comfortable position.

Felix giggled, shaking his head before continuing, “important question, what do you think of Chan?”

You scrunched your nose up in distaste, “how am I supposed to answer that objectively?” You whined, seeing Felix nod encouragingly at you.

“No, no, that’s the point! I want you to be as subjective as possible.”

You hummed, “well, I don’t know, I guess, he’s really nice…and considerate?” Most of the time, at least. “He’s…cute? Like you know, the whole…dimples and all,” you shrugged, shuddering at how foreign it felt for you to actually list out the attributes you liked in Chan.

“He’s a real geek too, which is kind of cute, and all,” you mumbled, grimacing at them as a silent plea for them to end your misery.

“If,” Jisung emphasised, “you knew he liked you and whatever, would you get into a relationship with him?”

Felix made an impressed face at Jisung, “oh, that’s a good one. Chan doesn’t really date a lot,” He jut his lips out thoughtfully.

“I guess…I would? I mean,” you hummed in thought, “from what I’ve experienced, I feel like I can trust him? That’s the vibe I get when I’m with him or when we like, you know, call... and all?”

Felix’s lips pulled into a pout, “I feel like we need to call in an expert for this.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “huh? Who?”

Felix tapped his phone, setting it back down and giving you a cheeky smile, the playful glint in his eyes making you nervous.

And you should’ve been, because when you saw Hyunjin walking over you knew you were either in for an interrogation or a whole lot of teasing.

“Alright, Chan’s just setting the table so we don’t have long, what’s up?” Hyunjin nodded his head at Felix, hands in his pockets and a bored expression on his face.

“Has Chan been behaving strange…or like just..different lately?” Jisung asked, making Hyunjin look directly at you, narrowing his eyes at you in realisation.

“I knew it! I knew there was something up,” he cried, making you shush him in fear that Chan would hear.

“What are you talking about?” you shushed him.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, plopping himself on the seat next to Jisung.

“Let me just tell you,” he sighed deeply, “Chan has been so weird recently. He gets shy at even the slightest mention of you, and don’t think I don’t see how he’s been on his phone more lately.”

“I’ve noticed a great increase in thirst traps as well,” Jisung said seriously, clasping his hands together as if he were a reporter.

“Exactly my point!” Hyunjin told Jisung, “my bet, is that he’s been trying to get your attention but he’s doing it in the only way he knows how and that’s being a flirty bitch,” he said simply, leaning back with a nonchalant shrug.

Jisung nodded slowly, turning to Hyunjin, “I didn’t really like you at first...but can I just say...I love you.”

You brushed him off quickly, “are you sure, though? ‘Cause like, I’ve been telling myself for a long time now that I didn’t wanna read too deep into his actions,” you winced.

“Honestly, the best piece of advice I can give you right now is to just read into it.” Hyunjin told you, earning vigorous nods from Jisung and Felix.

“We should probably be heading back now, before Chan starts to get suspicious,” Felix murmured.

This made Hyunjin giggle, “yeah, I told him I was coming here to call you guys.”

Upon reaching back to the small barbecue area, you saw that Chan was already seated, giving you a soft smile when he spotted you.

“Food smells great, thanks guys,” Jisung sighed in satisfaction, him, Felix and Hyunjin having shared some sort of unspoken agreement to let Chan sit next to you, unbeknownst to you.


Suppressing the tension in you that you were feeling whenever Chan had reached over to put things on your plate, you had started eating, all of them falling silent when they ate, which you didn’t mind. But you knew Jisung did, and you wished you could disappear when he’d broken the silence.

“How’s your ear healing?” He asked pointedly over a mouthful of food, earning a confused hum from Felix, whose hand went up to his own ear with a frown.

“Ear? Who’s ear?” Felix followed Jisung’s gaze and realised you had a new piercing on your ear, his eyes widening, “woah, when did you get that done? It looks great! Dude, doesn’t it look great?”

He nudged Chan with his foot, making the older boy turn to you, nodding blankly, though his ears had started to grow redder with every second.

“I did it for her,” he shrugged, his casual demeanour making Felix nod slowly, a small smile appearing on his face as he gave Chan a knowing look.

“Thought you usually let Hyunjin do piercings?” Felix questioned pointedly, amusement laced in his tone.

Chan simply shrugged, pretending to be occupied with his food, “yeah, not always.”

You glared at Felix, telepathically asking him what he was trying to do, seeing him do a little happy dance in his seat, pretending not to notice your glare.

“Are we gonna set up the campfire after this?” Hyunjin asked, seeming to have taken pity on you, earning nods and hums in response. 


“We need to get the firewood from the back first,” Jisung mentioned, giving you a particularly pointed look.

You raised your eyebrows, trying to figure out what he was trying to imply before you realised.

“I can go get it later,” you offered (curse peer pressure), missing the way Hyunjin and Felix looked at Chan, exchanging triumphant looks when Chan had cleared his throat.

“I can go with you, it’s too much to carry on your own,” he proposed smoothly, his gaze meeting yours and his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Enjoy your date,” Jisung coughed, making you roll your eyes. You hoped the campfire would be over quickly.

While the rest of them were clearing up and setting up the snacks, you and Chan had gone to go get the firewood.

You would’ve usually found the silence to be quite soothing, with the way you could hear the crickets chirping and the gentle swishing of the lake, not to mention the way the air had gotten cooler from when you’d arrived. However, something about your discussion from just now had made your thoughts spiral into an endless cycle of trying to figure out what every one of his actions meant.

“Are you alright?” You asked abruptly after you noticed he wasn’t making any move to start any conversation.

“What makes you ask that?” He let out a small amused huff.

“I don’t know.. you know, like, Hyunjin told me just now in the car that you didn’t get much sleep these days and stuff…”

Chan gasped, holding his hand up to his mouth in exaggerated shock, “are you actually…worried for me?” He teased.

Scoffing, you ignored his giggles as you replied, “of course, I was. You slept like a log for the whole car ride,” you grit your teeth with feigned annoyance at him.

Chan shook his head calmly, not being able to help the smile from his face at your concern. “Honestly, you don’t have to worry about me. I mean, this is my job. I know that there will be times where I have to be tired to know that i’m moving forward, you know?” He shrugged, making you frown.

“That’s…true, I guess,” you murmured, seeing him step before you to open what looked like a garage door, seeing the firewood there, letting him pass some to you, “but you know…I couldn’t help but worry.”

Chan let out a surprised hum, taking a bunch of firewood in his arms, letting the door fall closed before he locked it back.

“Why? Did you think I wouldn’t take care of myself?” He asked, a small smirk on his face.

You nodded, “obviously, yes.”

Chan shrugged, “guess you have no choice but to take care of me, then.”

Your breath hitched, almost letting your firewood slip from your arms. Regaining your composure with a scoff, you ignored the way he giggled at your flustered expression.

Straightening up, you huffed at him, clenching your firewood tighter, “you’ve got to stop saying things like that.”

“Why?”

“Just….because,” you struggled to form a proper answer, knowing you couldn’t just expose yourself now, thankful that you were already reaching the campfire site.

Felix gave you guys a big wave when he saw you approaching them, cupping his hands around his mouth before yelling, “took you long enough!”

After struggling to light the fire, you’d sat in between Chan and Hyunjin, the warmth from the fire slightly uncomfortable but soothed by the soft wind blowing against your face and neck.

You were surprised to see how fast the sun set here, but strangely it put you in a calmer mood, maybe it was because you couldn’t see as much but you didn’t push the feeling away.

“Here,” you were interrupted from your stargazing when you saw a stick with a roasted marshmallow attached to the tip in front of you.

Looking at it hesitantly, you made a slight sound of uncertainty, feeling too full from your meal for snacks.

Shaking your head no, he gasped, “you have to try them, it’ll be good, I promise,” he nodded encouragingly at you.

Chan brought the stick closer to your lips, and you’d wanted to take it from him but it was already almost pressing against your lips, so you’d given up, ignoring Jisung’s smirk and taking the marshmallow into your mouth.

You gave a small hum at the sweetness, not having expected it to be so soft, smiling unconsciously when you saw the grin that he gave you after seeing your reaction.

After talking with the guys about their stories from the past whenever they came here, well, by they you meant Hyunjin and Chan, but you enjoyed the stories nonetheless. Something about the area holding more of an attractive charm to you.

After some time had passed and the sky had gotten even darker than before, you didn’t miss the way Chan had gotten quieter as time passed, simply smiling along with the stories but his eyes doing nothing to hide his fatigue.

Figuring it was about time to call it a day, you turned to Jisung to mouth ‘I’m tired’.

Jisung gave you a look that mirrored yours, nodding. Thankfully, he’d already made to stand up, Chan turning to give him a curious look.

“Hey, we’re gonna call it a day, you guys are free to continue hanging out if you want,” the rest of the boys nodded, Chan turning to you with a tired smile, reminding you of the car ride you shared, the look on his face making you want to just reach over and cup his cheeks, refraining from doing so by standing up abruptly, nodding.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” he smiled, eyes turning to crescents, making you smile in spite of your embarrassment, practically having to pull Jisung along with you back to the cabin with how much he was giggling.

Flopping onto the bed and getting ready to sleep afterwards, you’d feelt Jisung slip into the bed next to you, turning to face you with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t think I didn’t see what was happening at the lake just now,” he muttered, not being able to help the smile from his face.

“What exactly did you see?” you asked, just wanting to be sure he wasn’t just lying to make you admit to things (as usual).

“Oh yeah? Don’t act as if I didn’t see all of this,” he grabbed the pillow, grasping and looking at it with a hooded gaze, leaning closer only to pull back abruptly, directing his wide-eyed glare at you.

Jisung’s expression soon changed to one that was sheepish, “actually now that i’m thinking of it, maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted you guys,” he hummed, “but maybe it was a good thing too, if not I wouldn’t know what time you guys would return to the cabin,” he snickered, making you scoff.

Rolling your eyes, you’d reached past him to turn off the bedside lamp, “night, Jisung,” you sighed, for lack of a better retort.

You knew Jisung better than to have expected him to reply normally, rolling your eyes when you heard him muster a scarily accurate impression of Chan, “night, sweetie.”

“Shut up, Jisung.”

===

You weren’t sure what time it was, but all you knew was that when you woke up Jisung was still in bed snoring. Carefully stepping out so you wouldn’t wake him, you stepped out of bed, spotting Felix already huddled around the tv there with Hyunjin.  

“Morning,” Felix greeted, making Hyunjin turn around to greet you with a nod as well.

“Uh-huh,” you yawned, dragging yourself over to them. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Hyunjin and I thought it’d be a fun idea for us to play games today, and since it’s only a few of us I thought it’d be a good chance for you and Chan to, you know…” Felix dropped his voice to a whisper, “bond.”

“Jisung would love that,” you shook your head in dread, your thoughts wandering back to Chan, about to ask where he was.

“He went for a run, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Hyunjin told you with an amused lilt to his tone, making you flush in embarrassment.

“What makes you think I was wondering that?” you scoffed, tilting your chin up defiantly at him, your gaze looking him up and down for added intimidation (not that Hyunjin cared, of course).

Hyunjin merely shrugged, giggling, “pretty sure you know the answer to that yourself.”

You left them in the living room to go take a shower, sitting on the bed when you were done, shaking Jisung awake gently.

Jisung groaned, his hands coming up to rub his eyes, “what time is it?”

“Almost one, please get up. Felix and Hyunjin said we’re gonna play some bonding games today,” you sighed, laughing when you saw the way he stretched his arms out above his head, his eyes scrunching shut.

“Bonding games?” he whined, “the hell? I feel like I’m at a school camp,” he whined.

“He says the winner gets to dine free at peaches for a month,” he perked up at that, sitting up in bed.

“A very good school camp,” he corrected, an impressed hum leaving his lips.

Rolling your eyes, you saw him get up, moving to go to the bathroom to wash up, “I’m gonna go find things to eat,” you hummed, hearing him grunt in response, which you took as your cue to leave, stepping out of the room and walking to the kitchen area.

Fortunately or unfortunately for you, Chan was there, standing leaning against the counter in all of his post-workout glory, dressed in another black sleeveless shirt and shorts, sipping water and using his phone.

“Morning, sweetie,” he greeted with a smile, strangely making you nervous, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him.

“Heard from Hyunjin that we’re staying in the cabin today?” he asked, bringing his water bottle up to his lips to take a long sip.

You nodded, and as if on cue, Felix had entered the house, pushing his damp-looking hair away from his forehead as he walked over to where you were.

“It’s starting to rain outside, so I don’t think outdoor activities are much of an option right now,” he gestured out the window.

Following his gaze to the window you realized that it really was raining, the droplets slowly decorating the window.

“There’s a few board games near the fireplace, we can just play with those,” Chan gestured to the living room and Felix nodded, already making his way over.

“I’m gonna go shower, you guys can start first if you’re all ready,” he called before walking off leaving you and Felix in the living room to fish out the board games from the cupboard. You were surprised to find that they were still in good condition, not having expected them to be anything but dusty after being kept in the cupboard for god-knows-how-long.

“Okay, so we have a few options,” Felix murmured, picking up the games as he spoke, “there’s ‘uno’, there’s ‘monopoly deal’, whatever this is, ‘clue’..” he trailed off once he didn’t recognize whatever the rest of the games were.

“I’m leaning towards ‘uno’,” Felix hummed, considering the games as seriously as you’d ever seen him, not even looking away when you heard one of the doors open, Jisung making his way over to where you guys were, Hyunjin following behind him with a yawn.

“What are those?” Jisung asked.

“Board games, come here, take a look,” you beckoned him and Hyunjin over, seeing them bring a few games of their choice over to the coffee table, the four of you taking your places naturally at each side of the table.

“Should we decide on lunch first? I’m hungry,” Hyunjin suggested, whining and patting his stomach like a child.

Felix had raised his phone up at that, a smug look on his face, “I ordered us some pizza just now because I saw that they delivered here.”

You sighed at the thought of food as you thanked Felix, beginning to grow peckish at the thought of food, directing your attention towards the television in your attempt to find a distraction.

“Does that tv work?” You asked, seeing Hyunjin nod, leaning his arms on the coffee table to support his head as he waited for Felix to distribute the cards in his clumsy, Felix way.

“I watched some movies on it this morning, they’ve only been playing Christmas movies though, the channels are pretty limited.”

“I’m fine with Christmas movies,” you hummed, Jisung sighing deeply beside you.

“I wish it was Christmas.”

Changing your location to the sofa, you made yourself comfortable as Felix chose the channel, Jisung insisting on dimming the lights for the living room to look more cozy, after which he made his way over to where you were seated on the sofa.

“Can I sit here,” Jisung pointed next to you with a pointed look, “or did you already reserve it for your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

Jisung’s head snapped around to see Chan coming into the living room, dressed in a baby blue sweater and black sweatpants, his hair slightly damp and messy on his head. The sight of his smirk flustering you into fixing your gaze on the television.

Jisung’s mouth clamped shut quickly, shaking his head dismissively as Hyunjin struggled to stifle a laugh.

Chan had ‘let’ Jisung sit on the sofa next to you, seating himself on the space on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa in front of where you sat, his proximity causing you to pick up the hint of cologne he was wearing.

“Oh, Christmas movies! Nice,” Chan commented, earning a ‘I know right?’ from Felix, meanwhile Jisung was wiggling his eyebrows at you, using his index finger and thumb to pinch his sweater and pointing at Chan, which you figured was Jisung’s sign language for ‘doesn’t he look good in that sweater?’

Ignoring Jisung for the sake of your sanity, the uno cards went ignored as the group of you focused on the movie. Something about the mood of the movie served to put you in a calm mood, ( or maybe it was Chan’s presence, you couldn’t tell ) so much so that you didn’t realise how quickly time passed until you heard a knock at the door.

You wouldn’t know this but Chan was thankful for his seat in front of you, figuring that if he were seated next to you he wouldn’t have been able to think about anything other than putting his arm around you or something cheesy like that.

Jumping up quickly, Felix offered to take the pizza, coming back to the living room with the boxes and a too-large bottle of sofa, placing it onto the coffee table with a harsh thud.

Hyunjin was quick to start eating, and Chan had turned his head around to look at you, shifting to the left to make space for you on the floor. You know, just out of his consideration.

Giving him an appreciative nod, you reached over to take a slice, not missing the way Chan poured drinks for everyone, silently doing things for them to take care of them, something about it making your heart swell just a little bit more.

“Can we play a game after this? The movie’s getting kind of boring,” Jisung frowned, his tone extra desperate, you should’ve known his intentions when he’d waited until Chan wasn’t looking to shoot you a wink.

Shrugging and murmurs of ‘yeah why not’ or ‘sure’s sounded among the group, Felix turning to Chan with a knowing look on his face.

“This one’s really competitive when it comes to games,” he gestured at Chan with his pizza crust.

Chan lowered his head, a shy smile on his face, his clean hand coming up to touch his ear, though he made no effort to deny Felix’s accusation.

“Really?” You asked, hoping you hadn’t replied too quickly, seeing Hyunjin nod gravely at you.

“I thought I was competitive but that was until I swam with him,” Hyunjin said with a raise of his eyebrows, shaking his head.

“It’s your fault for thinking you could go against him, you of all people knew he won all those medals in the past,” Felix laughed, making Hyunjin let out a stubborn huff.

“Medals?” Jisung hummed thoughtfully, nudging you with his knee.

“Yeah, I was in a lot of swimming competitions when I was younger,” Chan told you, a rather embarrassed expression on his face.

“A lot,” Felix echoed, a strange feeling building inside you from the new-found information, something in you finding the thought of baby Chan swimming absolutely endearing.

“Enough about me,” Chan waved his hand in dismissal, “let’s just play, okay?” Chan changed the topic quickly, making Jisung jeer but moving to clear the table nonetheless.

Once you were all done clearing up and washing your hands, Jisung having made sure to occupy a lot more space so it left you and Chan with little space, you’d returned to the living room, seeing they’d already laid out different games on the table.

You realized they’d decided on playing uno first, leaning over to Jisung with an urgency to your gaze.

“Why are we playing this?” you whispered harshly, panic in your eyes, earning a snort from Jisung, who shielded his cards from you almost immediately. Talk about friendship.

“I’m not teaching it to you again, you never listen to me,” he scolded you, making you frown as he pushed your stack of cards towards you, “face your fate, loser.”

The game had started, all of them seeming to know what was going on, and you hoped it wouldn’t be too obvious that you didn’t know what you were doing, always having to clarify if what you were doing was correct before putting it down, and it was no surprise that you were always at the brunt of the ‘+’ cards, Chan noticing not long into the game that you weren’t necessarily going in with a strategy.

“Uno!” You heard Felix shout, followed by Chan, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Wait, so do you win?” you mumbled, your hand coming up to touch your deck anxiously, peering at the middle stack of cards in confusion.

Chan laughed, “not yet, we still have to clear the last card.”

Nodding slowly, you simply followed the flow of the game, already having given up on winning, especially when Hyunjin yelped, Chan setting down his last card with a triumphant grin on his face.

Your lips parted in shock, about to set your cards down to reshuffle when you heard Jisung call out, “Second best!” and the game proceeded.

Chan leant back and rested his weight on his hands, tilting his head and peering over at your hand, a small giggle leaving him at the neat arrangement of the cards by colour and value.

You lifted the card of your choice slightly, showing it to him, silently asking what he thought, and he leant over to tell you which ones you could put down, and as you continued you were shocked at the rapid rate your hand was decreasing in number.

Your breath hitched, body tensing slightly when Chan had rest a arm on your shoulder, not having noticed how close he was to you until now ( and neither had he ), his left hand going up to either direct you or place the card down for you.

“Why does this feel so different from how I usually play?” you marvelled as he’d basically played for you.

“Maybe because Chan actually knows what he’s doing,” Jisung snickered, earning chuckles from Felix and Hyunjin as you scoffed.

As if by some miracle, Chan had helped you win the second place, earning protests from Felix who insisted that it doesn’t count because Chan played for you, to which you ignored, obviously.

Demanding for a break to regain his composure, Jisung had slumped against the sofa in defeat, and you’d almost instinctively reached over to nudge him when you realised Chan’s arm was still weighing on your shoulder.

He shifted his arm, bringing his hand up to push your hair away from your ear, “sorry, d’you mind? Just wanna check if it’s healing alright.”

You nodded, your gaze following Felix leaving to get more snacks, Hyunjin eyeing you suspiciously.

“Was it alright after we went swimming yesterday?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the way Jisung was tucking his hair behind his ear obviously behind Chan, batting his eyes at you.

“I think you can give it a few more weeks and it should be all healed,” he nodded, bringing his hand off of your shoulder, an unreadable expression on his face, which only served to make you more nervous. Chan wasn’t sure why he’d done this to himself, the urge to just bring you somewhere away from the boys and kiss you starting to become a little suffocating.

"I should probably still visit you, right? Just to be sure,” you murmured, averting your gaze to the bracelet on his wrist.

Chan smiled, his eyebrows lifting slightly in amusement, “you don’t need an excuse to come and see me… ”

And just like that, you dared yourself to meet his gaze again, instantly regretting your action when you saw the way Chan was glancing between your eyes and your lips, the giddy feeling building within you almost making you forget that Hyunjin and Jisung were in the room.

The boys wouldn’t have this, of course, and they’d made their presence known, Jisung’s loud cough making Chan’s gaze dart up, and in your shock you’d immediately put some distance between the both of you, flushing from how reckless you’d almost been. This wasn’t like you.

Standing up, you excused yourself to go to the washroom, Chan seeming to have regained his composure fairly quickly judging by the giggle that had escaped him from seeing how flustered you were.

“Hello?” Hyunjin chided, “we’re still here, you know.”

Chan sighed, “unfortunately.”

This made Jisung gasp, “that’s gross,” he shivered exaggeratedly, turning to Hyunjin, “speaking of which, when should we start heading back?”

Hyunjin glanced at the time as Felix was making his way back to the living room, “I think we can play one or two more games before we start to leave, we already packed up the rest of our stuff last night after you and Y/N went to sleep.”

“I’ve got this family dinner tonight, so I don’t think i’ll be joining you guys for dinner,” Felix pouted, earning a grunt of acknowledgement from Hyunjin.

Jisung pursed his lips, looking as though he were about to say something, finally relaxing his shoulders and shrugging, "I have no excuse. I just want to go home and sleep.”

“What about you, Chan?” Hyunjin asked, earning a shrug from the older boy. “Don’t you still have to finish up that design for next week?” Hyunjin prompted, referring to the client that Chan had been specially dealing with recently.

Chan shook his head, “that can wait till tomorrow,” he sighed.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you’d splashed your face with water, hoping that you could lessen the heat you felt from your previous encounter with Chan. Giving yourself a resolute stare in the mirror as you convinced yourself that your cheeks totally weren’t pink right now.

After much convincing, you decided you were spending a little too much time in the washroom, returning to the living room at a reluctant pace, nervous at the sight of the boys all seated there talking and laughing.

“Did you show Jisung that thigh piece you did for that girl?” your eyes widened at Hyunjin’s question.

Thigh piece? You’d reminded yourself that tattoos could be anywhere, even places you would be too flustered to let Chan touch.

Chan was the first to notice that you were back, shooting you an amused smirk once you were seated next to him.

“Are you..better?” he teased, making you roll your eyes, waving him off.

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked, curious yet scared of your possible discovery.

“Chan did this sick piece for this girl, it was huge, it took him like 3 days,” Hyunjin said, words speeding up in his excitement as he took his phone out to show you the design.

Hyunjin had shoved his phone at Felix first, earning a low sound of approval from Felix, “wow, this is so cool.”

You grew more curious as the phone was passed to Jisung, all the while Chan simply smiled shyly, dimples appearing in his satisfaction that his work was being appreciated.

“This whole thing?! Where did she get it on?” Jisung exclaimed, making you furrow your eyebrows, suspicion rising.

Jisung shoved Hyunjin’s phone before you, and you saw a large detailed work that looked like a lady you would see in those scary lara croft movies.

Your eyes widened, a part of you feeling a little intimidated by the image.

“She said she wanted something that was like... a little creepy with like tomb raider vibes so I just went with it,” Chan explained, making you nod thoughtfully, hoping your shock wasn’t too obvious.

“You didn’t answer the question about the placement, though,” Felix spoke up with a curious lilt to his tone, looking down at his thigh and trying to mark out with his hand possible areas to place a tattoo like that.

“It’s a little hard to describe, we spent a while discussing but we eventually decided that we’d put it somewhere here,” Chan leaned over to Felix who had his leg already stretched out, placing a hand at the side of Felix’s upper thigh, marking an area that covered a little bit of the butt and most of the side of his thigh.

“It was crazy, the details were really amazing,” Hyunjin let out a low whistle.

“Thanks,” Chan laughed, making you scrunch your nose, your first thought being how the process would be like, knowing whoever was getting the tattoo would have to be showing quite a bit of skin to get it done. Since when were you so uptight? Snap out of it, it was just a tattoo on her thigh, no big deal.

Though you couldn’t help but turn to Jisung, lowering your volume to a discreet murmur.  

“Does that mean she had to take off her pants?!” you whispered harshly, making Jisung burst into a bout of hearty laughter.

“Is that your concern? because I mean, it’s not like Chan’s gonna tattoo her clothes, right?” Jisung’s chest heaved with how hard he was laughing, his statement catching Chan’s attention, said boy turning to you with an amused look.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you shy?”

Jisung squealed, and you pitied Hyunjin for sitting next to Jisung because now he was the victim of Jisung’s hits.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feigning confidence by glaring at Chan, though on the inside you already knew you were more than flustered from his comment, wondering what gave him the audacity to be so bold.

“Mayhaps…” Hyunjin gave you a teasing smirk, “jealous?”

Felix’s eyes widened, excitedly tapping his leg in anticipation.

“Shut up,” you waved your hands, shooting a look at Chan, “I’m going to get water,” you murmured, starting to get up when you saw Chan stand up as well.

“I’ll go too,” he said, raising his hands up in defence when he saw you turn around to glare at him, “what? I just wanna look at what snacks we can bring back.”

Sighing, you let him follow behind you to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water while he rummaged in the cupboards for snacks that caught his eye.

Lowering your voice to a murmur so the boys wouldn’t hear, you grit your teeth, “I told you you have to stop saying things like that,” you muttered, holding your glass of water to your lips and leaning against the kitchen counter.

Chan made a confused sound, closing the cupboard while he had a few bags of snacks in his hand, “stuff like what?”

You shot him a look, “you know what i’m talking about. Look, I know it might be fun or whatever for you to flirt but it’s gonna be your problem when I start… feeling some way about it,” you snapped, annoyance taking over you at how even at this moment you still managed to find Chan absolutely attractive.

Chan looked at you with a soft smile on his face, raising his eyebrows slightly at you, “go ahead.” He took a step towards you, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“What?”

Chan moved closer so he was just about to walk past you, leaning over so his lips were barely touching your ear, and it took you every inch of willpower in you not to flinch away.

“I want it to make you feel something,” he murmured, walking back into the living room nonchalantly after that, leaving you stunned in the kitchen.

“Y/N get your things! We’re leaving soon!” You heard Jisung’s voice snap you from your trance, nodding to yourself and finishing the rest of your water and walking over to your shared room with Jisung.

“Dude! Chan is stressing me out,” you whisper-shouted once you entered the room, seeing Jisung turn around like a deer caught in the headlights.

“What did he say?”

You recounted what happened in the kitchen to Jisung, who was an excited wreck after you were done, clenching his fists next to his head in his sheer inability to contain his excitement.

“He totally likes you, it’s so obvious at this point, what more is there to think about?” he told you matter-of-factly.

Sucking in a sharp breath, carrying your bag on your shoulder and squeezing your eyes shut before opening your eyes harshly, you shook your head.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna say to him when I see him at peaches… can we change our spot?” You shot Jisung a look, though the both of you knew you had no plans whatsoever to change cafes.

“Hey, don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

Surprisingly, that served to be of some consolation for you during the dead silence on the ride back, Chan having fallen asleep again but this time he’d leant against the window so that saved you from more stress, you guessed.

Hyunjin had dropped Felix off at his house for  his family dinner first, followed by Jisung who was insistent on wanting to sleep.

You remembered Chan mentioning to Hyunjin at the start of the ride that he wanted to head to the shop after dinner so you didn’t bother waking him up when you’d reached your house, figuring he should get as much sleep as he can if he was going to be working later on, choosing to text him instead.

5:57pm -hey, didn’t wanna wake u just now so ill say bye to u here instead haha-

Once you were home, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chan was going to call you again today, like how he usually did. But after almost applying shampoo on your body in your distraction you’d decided not to make yourself too anxious about it, choosing to tidy up your house and watch movies to kill time since you wanted to enjoy the rest of your holiday while you could.

Thanks to a little too many romantic comedies, you’d successfully forgotten you were waiting for Chan to call you, already halfway through devouring your ice-cream sundae when you’d startled at the sound of your phone ringing.

Peeking at the caller id, you were almost embarrassed at how quickly you’d answered once you saw Chan’s contact name, putting the phone on speaker on your lap.

“Hey,” you heard him murmur, his tone soft and gentle, yet there was something about it that sounded a little on edge, “hope I didn’t interrupt you when you were about to sleep or anything.”

You shook your head, “oh, no, not at all, I was just... chilling,” you shrugged, picking up your remote to turn the volume down on your tv.

“Are you home?” He asked you, earning an affirmative hum from you.

“You?”

“Nah, I left the shop a short while ago… ”

You wracked your brain for a response, your mind running wild imagining all the possible ways the conversation could go.

Was he going to ask you about what happened in the kitchen? Or should you have asked him instead?

Whatever it was, the longer you kept silent, the more your heart picked up speed, a part of you growing desperate to confront him and just ask him about it over the phone because you knew you wouldn’t have to face him in real life if you did— no matter how cowardly it was of you.

“Oh, please be careful, it’s really late,” you murmured, wincing at your shitty reply.

You heard him huff on the other line, “oh, yeah. Totally… don’t scold me but…I feel a lot better after hearing your voice.”

Stunned into silence, you were unsure how to react, a nervous laugh leaving your lips, “list—”

“Can—” you’d spoken simultaneously, a laugh escaping you. 


“You go first,” you insisted, scooping the last bits of your ice cream up as you waited anxiously.

“I was actually wondering uh… can we talk? I’m almost at your house.”

Your eyes widened, glancing at the door in shock, placing your ice cream down on the table haphazardly.

“Oh, uh, yeah sure. Of course we can, gimme a sec,” you said, hurriedly putting on the jacket you had draped over the sofa next to you since you weren’t wearing a bra, hearing the knock at your door when you hadn’t even finished slipping your arm through the sleeve yet.

“Just a minute!” You shouted, hanging up the call and jogging over to the door, opening it to reveal Chan.

You’d tensed up almost instantly, the time of the night coupled with  something about the way the light from your house hit him making him look like he was glowing.

“Hey,” you breathed, seeing him give you a close-lipped smile. “Come in,” you ushered him in, closing the door behind him, though he stayed at your door, looking almost scared to walk any further.

“I’m sorry, again, for coming so unannounced it’s just that… this has been, you know, weighing on my mind for the longest time and after what happened in the kitchen earlier today I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry,” he blurted, his hand coming up to grasp the back of his neck, letting go and letting his hand fall back to his side.

You hoped you didn’t look too dumbfounded.

“Sorry? For what?”

“Nah, like… I was thinking about it just now and I realised that I never thought about how I could be like, you know, imposing my feelings on you and I know that just because I feel a certain way doesn’t mean you have to feel the same way and I just felt really bad because I never meant to put you on the spot or—”

“Chan, calm down,” you laughed, hands naturally going up to his shoulders to rub them reassuringly.

He nodded, meeting your gaze and sucking in a sharp breath before sighing deeply, “you know what? I’m just gonna say it. I’m sorry, in advance. Just so you know, you can reject me, i’m perfectly fine with it. I just have to tell you this before I lose my mind,” he huffed, heaving another sigh.

“I know it’s no secret but… I like you Y/N.”

Your eyes widened, your smile growing bigger, unable to help yourself because of how endearing it felt to see Chan who usually looked so intimidating and confident suddenly become this rambling wreck before you.

“Me too,” you nodded, suddenly feeling more confident now that you knew how he felt, the knowledge spurring you on.

“I’m sorry—wait, you do?”

You nodded, “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell, I did for a while now… ”

Chan let out a relieved sigh, and you felt his shoulders relax under your touch, his hands going up to cover yours which were placed on his shoulders, grasping them gently, his hands cold to the touch.

“Thank—now I’m glad I came here. I thought hearing your voice would be enough but now that I’m here I’m thinking, seeing you…” his hands peeled yours away from his shoulders, interlocking his fingers with yours, “feeling you,” he took a step closer to you, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“Is so much better,” he muttered.

It was as if you were transported back to the lake, with the way you felt him leaning closer to you, and taking a step back, you felt your back hit the door gently, his thumbs smoothing over the back of your hands, making you giggle.

“So, I take it as I’ll be receiving more… ‘dinner offers’?” You said, mustering your last bit of confidence.

Chan let out an amused huff, taking his lower lip between his teeth gently and shaking his head at you. Leaning down, Chan brought your hands up to press them against the door on either side of your head, his head dipping down to your neck, pressing a kiss to your neck, the way just the smallest of gasps left you making him smile.

“You really… drive me crazy, sweetie,” he murmured, the smile practically evident in his tone.

Moving his head higher, he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, the cold metal of his lip ring making you shiver, pulling away so he was face-to-face with you.

“May I?” He smiled, and you’d wished you could have cupped his face and kissed him right there, and it seemed as though he’d read your mind, letting go of your hands.

Once he did so, you’d taken the opportunity to cup the sides of his face, your hands closer to his ears, pulling him closer and pressing your lips against his.

Feeling Chan smile into the kiss, you’d almost shivered at the feeling of his hands going to your shoulders before running them down slowly to your waist, deepening the kiss as he gave your waist a small squeeze, making you utter a surprised sound, sighing into the kiss as you felt his hands going down to grasp your hips.

“Ice cream?” he hummed after you’d felt him lick your lower lip, making you scoff, not knowing how to respond to him, which had only served to further amuse him.  

Feeling confident, he pulled away only slightly (eliciting a rather disappointed sound from you), surprising you when you felt his teeth nip lightly at your lips, making you pull away, cheeks flushing.

“So,” you ignored his comment, pulling away in your shock, seeing him tilt his head at you with a giddy smile on his face, as if he hadn’t just done whatever he did in the past minute, “I take that as a yes?”

Chan hummed, pressing a hand against your back and pulling you closer to him so your chest was flush against his, smirking at the way your hands had almost come up to cover yourself.

“Kiss me again and I’ll tell you my answer.”

[chenoehi]

Points about U.S. Election

(As I was typing this, Biden has taken the lead in GA but it’s still not called yet. Trump will undoubtedly demand a recount so if it’s really close a recount could flip it back for Trump.)

Just a little update from my previous post on the election results, although no one cares about my opinion. Rest assured, this is purely for my own sanity.

First thoughts:

1. Arizona being wishy washy throws a real monkey wrench in the wheels of this circus train from the perspective of Biden’s bid. It sounds crazy given how the Associated Press operates when it comes to elections (being very careful to call states too early) but the AP might have fucked up. Ironically, it would mean that Fox News, the only conservative leaning major network news outlet, also fucked up by calling AZ for Biden, an even more confusing fact when we consider that CNN, NBC, MSNBC, and other liberal leaning outlets have NOT called AZ for Biden. It has been amusing seeing conservatives on Twitter (particularly the trollish, nasty, insult-slinging ones—as opposed to normal every day conservatives) say fuck you to Fox News where Republicans have been tuning in to worship at the alter of Trump for the last four years. Politics always drives home what fickle creatures we really are. This is no offense to Republicans honestly. I have little use for broadcasters with their own shows who call themselves journalists. CNN, NBC, and MSNBC are in the tank for Democrats and Fox News is Trumpland. Fox News used to be more moderate when Bush was president but that’s been a lifetime ago. Now politics are even more idealogical than they were before, and the Republican voters are almost embracing Trump now more than they are embracing conservative values. Or at least that’s what I see in my corner of the deep red South, aka Tennessee. I digress. Point is, true journalists report the facts with no outward bias. These people are political commentators. I have a journalism degree. I wrote for my school paper and helped run it. I covered the 2016 election. I’ve met real journalists at AP and newspapers. Those people are not it.

2. In other news, Nevada may not even matter now if Biden can flip Georgia and Pennsylvania (which is happening in GA and may soon happen in PA if Biden can keep the upward momentum). That would make my points in the previous post almost irrelevant now. It goes to show how unpredictable this election has been, more so than expected. If Biden flips GA for good, Trump will have to win every other state (Alaska, North Carolina, Nevada, and Pennsylvania) AND flip Arizona back to gain just 269 electoral votes. If he fails to flip AZ or if he flips AZ and then loses just one other state it’s game over. If Biden wins GA and AZ still flips for Trump  because it was called too early, then his 253 electoral votes (sans the 11 that AZ gives him) will turn into 269. He will still have to win one more state to gain 270. If Biden loses AZ and then doesn’t win any other state outside of GA he has 269 votes, and if Trump wins all the other states (PA, NC, NV, AL, AZ) he has 269 votes. If that scenario happens, neither men will get the needed 270 votes and we are royally fucked. If you think Trump demanding a recount in Wisconsin with a 20k gap (SAME AS HIS OWN GAP IN 2016, TALK ABOUT HYPOCRISY, NOT TO MENTION 2016 ALSO SAW A 10K GAP IN MICHIGAN) is bad, and if you think it’s really bad that we don’t have a President-elect at almost 3 days post election, imagine the horror of a nationwide recount or worse.

3. No one has any fucks to give about Alaska and North Carolina, still. 

4. I really didn’t want to spend energy talking about Trump but I just find it so tragic that he wants the votes to continue to be counted in Arizona where the mail-ins are now turning it around in his favor, meanwhile in Pennsylvania and Georgia he tossed out lawsuits to stop the counting because there’s all this corruption and voter fraud because his lead is slipping due to the mail-ins and absentees. Oh, and he needed to move his people just a few feet closer to observe the ballots being counted, although if they’re close enough to read the language of the ballots then that constitutes an invasion of privacy. But everything is gravy in Arizona. #allvotesmatter. No disrespect to BLM, full stop. I find irony in comparing that phrase to this voting situation because Trump certainly wants conservative votes in Arizona to matter because it means something to him. Whereas, votes incoming from Fulton County in GA (Atlanta) and from Philadelphia, PA, and Detroit, MI—all heavily Black-populated cities—are being scrutinized and declared criminal. I find it tragically ironic, so I use that comparison here and elsewhere. I’m not making light of the movement by doing so (just to be clear).

Now, a break down of this shitshow:

What did we expect to happen?

Both camps thought they could win by a landslide.

Both camps have had their egos bruised.

We expected Trump to make accusations if he didn’t perform well or if he lost.

Trump already set the precedent for this behavior in 2016 when he complained that a loss then would be because the vote was rigged. Turns out, it wasn’t. And his paper thin margins were totally fine and not the cause of voter fraud and fishiness and he didn’t steal the election.

We did not expect him to go quietly into that night. The exact opposite of what happened in 2016 is happening now and Trump’s hypocrisy and immaturity is showing full force. Even some of his supporters are saying he’s whack. That’s bad, but then again, many Republicans have had concerns over his Tweets and rhetoric for the last four years and have done nothing about it. Consequently, he’s lost a lot of former supporters and I don’t even know what his cabinet looks like now. I digress.

Everyone expected Biden to carry most of the mail-in and absentee ballots and for Trump to carry most of the in-person votes.

That is exactly what has happened in pretty much all the swing states save for AZ.

Why is that?

Trump encouraged his followers to vote in-person during early voting periods and to turn out big on election day and specifically to not mail their ballots in or use absentee ballots. Meanwhile, Biden encouraged people to mail in their ballots to stay safe.

We always have some mail-ins and some absentees each election cycle but because of COVID this 2020 election means that we have had millions of these types of ballots this year, which are always more time consuming to process and count. 

In Michigan alone, 2/3 of the state cast mail-in or absentee ballots. Michigan was one of the states like Wisconsin where Trump’s early lead was dashed once the in-person ballots were finished being tallied. Unlike in Arizona, Georgia, and Pennsylvania, Michigan has ended up with a gap of nearly 150k votes for Biden and doesn’t yet appear to be subject to a recount. Meanwhile, Wisconsin went to Biden with a 20k gap but will seemingly be subjected to a recount. The former governor of Wisconsin (who is in the tank for Trump) even spoke out initially and said that unless they can uncover a severe degree of voter fraud or mishandling of ballots (transposed numbers, etc) then 20k is a lot to overcome.

What has happened? The Red Mirage and the Blue Shift.

Generally, in-person votes are the easiest and quickest to tabulate. Mail-in ballots and absentee ballots take longer because they take longer to be processed. Then there are provisional ballots, which generally take the longest because these are votes from people who might actually be ineligible to vote (possibly because of residency status or criminal history; for example, if the latter then their voting rights may have been temporarily suspended).

Key swing states like Florida, Texas, and maybe Ohio (but specifically FL and TX) were allowed to start counting their mail-in and absentee ballots early.

FL and TX saw Biden having an early lead before ultimately Trump gained the lead and won as soon as the in-person ballots started being counted. So, mail-ins and absentee ballots tallied first, in-person ballots tallied second in these states. A Blue Mirage, and then a Red Shift.

However, news commentators have long been discussing the following scenario: the Red Mirage, aka, the tallied in-person votes overwhelmingly skewing Republican being counted first and making states appear to be in Trump’s favor when in actuality Biden would win them in the end once mail-ins and absentees were counted last, causing the Blue Shift (aka the current shift we are seeing now in several swing states, but also harkening back to the 2016 election when Trump caused what was dubbed a “Red Wave” when he swept almost all of the swing states. Aka, now a Blue Shift nationwide).

Why does all this matter to the accusations of voter fraud?

Prior to election day, the GOP (conservatives/Republicans) blocked certain key swing states from being able to count mail-ins and absentees early on. That means that all the ballots that were received in certain states during early voting periods and right up to election day (November 3rd) were unable to be counted until the day of the election.

This block happened in Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Wisconsin. I don’t know about Georgia, I don’t think this happened with GA but maybe.

So, unlike FL and TX, which leaned for Biden early on and then shifted, the opposite is happening in PA and GA, and we have seen Biden take MI and WI both.

Arizona is an anomaly because although Biden was expected to sweep a majority of the mail-in and absentee ballots, and has to a large degree nationwide, in Arizona it has been Trump who has taken a larger % of those ballots. Arizona is kind of a coin toss because Trump has a lot of supporters there, and it goes to Republicans most of the time. So Biden’s lead (and possible win) is surprising, but Trump is closing the gap slowly.

What are some things that people are forgetting?

One critical thing is that the USPS (U.S. Postal Service) fucking sucks.

It was reported either on election day or the next morning that the USPS misplaced 300k ballots. They were given more time by a judge to sweep their facilities to find these ballots (how tf do you lose 300k ballots in the first place).

The USPS has been noncompliant when it comes to this and other issues, causing several setbacks and problems.

Many ballots were delivered late. Republicans said that was fraud. They wanted to stop the counting of these ballots in some places. But as long as the ballots were mailed (aka postmarked) by election day then they are still valid, legal ballots. The USPS not delivering them on time is a separate issue.

Some of those ballots are for Trump and other candidates. Not all are for Biden. So he’d be costing himself votes too, which is counterintuitive.

Now, Trump has changed his narrative to ‘we want all legal ballots to be counted’. So I guess that means he’s cool now with the ballots being counted in AZ days after the election, just as long as they give him a change to win back the state.

Why are Trump’s accusations “dangerous,” hypocritical, and insulting?

Trump can turn a blind eye to his Hail Mary pass in Arizona and possibly Nevada this year (which he lost in 2016), and he can embrace the fact that he swept the election in 2016, won most of the swing states, many of which were expected to vote Democrat, and he can gloss over his paper-thin margins in 2016, which are eerily similar to this margins that Biden is now securing.

He can do all this because he won in 2016, and because he could win AZ and NV. But, he doesn’t like that he’s losing his lead in PA, and that he lost MI, WI, and currently the lead in GA. And of course it has to mean there was fraud and corruption if he’s losing right, because there’s no way he could lose in a fair election right? Because he’s so well-liked, right?

And I’m sure someone will point out that Democrats complained that the 2016 election wasn’t fair and that the result was influenced by the Russians and etc. etc. So Democrats are now hypocrites for calling Trump out on his bullshit statements with no evidence.

I agree that the “Trump didn’t win a fair race” argument is stupid, and that has been no more evident than it is right now obviously seeing that his popularity was no fluke. Biden is close to winning the race, but by a small margin. The country is extremely divided, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.

However, Trump is not really levying any specific accusations against Biden that I can see. What I’m hearing is Trump making vague accusations against the states, the election commissions, the polling offices, the people counting, and everyone that is specifically responsible for handling and counting the votes.

What is something that no one talking about, something that is incredibly hypocritical of Trump and Republicans to not point out in light of their accusations?

Alaska and North Carolina.

Why is neither Trump nor any conservative not pointing out how Alaska and North Carolina haven’t finished counting, or how NC has stopped counting and updating their votes for a whole day now? Why is no one saying anything about Alaska only having 50% of their votes reported 3 days after the polls opened? Where is the rage and conspiracy theories about those states and their stalled counting? Why aren’t they complaining about possible voter fraud in those states and worried something fishy is going on? Where are the lawsuits in Anchorage and Raleigh?

Oh, is it because everyone (including Democrats) knows Trump is going to win those states? Do we need an #allstatesmatter movement or something to get them to notice that we still don’t have any updates from them? (No offense to BLM, full stop.)

They don’t care about the issues in NC and AL. They only care about slow counting and fraud accusations in the states where their standing is subject to change. Meaning AKA, if the vote ends in their favor by a narrow margin of let’s say 1,000 votes then they’ll praise it as a win but if they lose the state by 20,000 votes like they did in.. oh, say Wisconsin this year, then they’ll claim voter fraud and demand a recount. Also like they have done in, you guessed it, Wisconsin. So, it’s OK if they eek out a win of 20k in Wisconsin back in 2016, and it’s OK if they eek out wins in Arizona and Nevada after Biden’s current lead, that’s not evidence of potential voter fraud, but if Biden gets a 20k win in Wisconsin this year that’s suspicious.

So Trump is fine with overtaking Biden with Hail Mary passes and narrow margins. He’s fine with all the mysterious votes for him that people are “finding everywhere” in AZ now (using his words he used to describe Biden’s gains). There’s no voter fraud going on in AZ where the mail-ins and absentees are still being counted like everywhere else, despite Trump and other Republicans complaining about the fact that votes are still being counted days after the election and that these ballots are bad in general. There’s no fraud in states where Biden initially had the lead after mail-ins were counted but is now seeing saw his lead shrink as in TX and FL, or in AZ where Biden (like Trump now in PA and GA) is seeing his early lead shrink now that mail-ins and absentees are being counted. There’s no fraud in AZ because Trump is the one gaining the advantage. And there’s also no fraud going on in Alaska where there is still only 50% votes reported or in North Carolina where 94% votes were reported before being delayed now a full day.

Quick question: do you see any Democrats or Liberals claiming Trump’s camp or the AZ counties themselves are purposefully locking that state up in his favor with mail-ins and absentees after seeing how many votes were needed for Trump to win it once the in-person ballots were tallied—as Trump so eloquently accused the Democrats and polls in PA, GA, MI, and WI of doing in his press conference yesterday afternoon? Because that’s basically what he said in his press conference. He made the accusation that they looked at the tally after in-person votes were counted, saw what votes were needed for Biden to win the state, and then suddenly they just started finding votes everywhere. Again, where are the watchdogs barking about people in Arizona and Nevada suddenly finding Trump votes everywhere? Suddenly, absentee and mail-in ballots are…good.

A summary of the hypocrisy and bullshit.

Trump wanted people to vote in person.

Trump said there was no way he could lose the election fairly. (Arrogance and also setting the stage for his legal arguments.)

Trump said that mail-ins and absentees were not trustworthy and basically they could be used to rig the election. (Also setting the stage for legal arguments. Again, we have always used these types of ballots in elections and everyone knows they skew heavily Democratic so if Trump says they’re not trustworthy all of a sudden and millions of people vote this way due to COVID, then we got ourselves a huge case of fraud.)

Trump fails to mention that a fraction of the mail-ins and absentees in every state are still for him or Independent candidates and that with each update his vote count also rises along with Biden’s.

He fails to acknowledge that in AZ the mail-ins and absentees are favoring him more than Biden and that they are the reason he’s gaining in AZ now, and he’s more than willing to say that counting should continue there and to take his gains as a sign he’ll win the state. And it totally doesn’t matter that this is a direct contradiction of his statement that mail-ins and absentees are tools for Dems to ‘steal’ elections.

The early Blue Mirage in states like TX and FL, where the mail-ins and absentees were counted early and the first votes leaned Biden, were followed by in-person ballots and leaned overwhelmingly Trump.

The Blue Mirage of Arizona is seeing mail-ins and absentees turn out to be not in Biden’s favor but rather in Trump’s favor, the opposite of what happened in TX/FL (and what’s happening in GA and PA).

All these shifts in Trump’s favor in states where mail-ins and absentees have either been giving the wrong overall impression initially because they were counted first (FL/TX) before shifting drastically for Trump once in-person ballots were considered. Because those states were allowed to count these ballots early and were not made to wait until election day to start counting.

The results of mail-ins and absentees in AZ are not what people expected and have ended up shifting now at the last minute for Trump after in-persons have been counted. No one is claiming that this last minute shift is suspicious.

Democrats will still most likely lose the Senate, where they only gained 1 seat, and their only hope of possibly winning the Senate is if they A. pick up more seats organically and B. if Biden wins then Vice President-elect Harris could cast a vote for the Democrats.

Democrats have not quite swept the House either. They will probably hold onto the House but they have lost 5 (count it FIVE) seats to Republicans and the one lone Independent seat was also lost to the Republicans so at this point the conservatives have gained a total of 6 (SIX) seats. Their representatives are also leading in a lot of places so they will gain bare minimum probably 10 more seats and there are only 34 left (according to AP as of this moment).

All of the Republican Congressional candidates are performing well, whereas Trump (the incumbent Republican President) is losing, and at the very best still performing poorly. Including losing the popular vote by 4 million votes. This is stunning because normally in this situation the congressional candidates would not necessarily outperform the incumbent president of their party.

Basically, if the Democrats really wanted to rig this whole election then they have done a very shit job of it. I would like to speak to a manager.

That’s it. I’m done. If you read all of this, you’re the OG. I hope some of what I said resonates.

[sitp-recs]

i saw your recent draco!pinning and oblivious!harry rec and wondered if you knew any either-pinning/other-oblivious rec with a lot of angst. buckets upon buckets of angst. thank you so much!!!!

Hello there! Oof this was hands down one of the hardest lists I’ve ever made. Angst can be so so subjective and I second guessed my picks for a long time, until I said “fuck it” and decided to include all stories that speak the most to me. I’ve read lots of angst over the years but these are the ones that come to mind when someone says “buckets of angst”.

I’m naming this list “angst with a (in 98% of the cases) happy ending” 😂 all of these hurt damn good and have lots of pining. I tried to include different flavors of angst too, so that everyone can find something for their tastes. And I left a few suggestions at the end - of fics that didn’t quite work for me but might be someone else’s jam. Hopefully I did a decent job. Enjoy!

Closure is a state of mind by @quicksilvermaid (2020, E, 12k) - bittersweet ending

After Harry's husband Charlie is killed, his Mind Healer recommends a Polyjuice therapy company, so Harry can see 'Charlie' again and find closure over his death.

Kissed by @potteresque-ire (2015, M, 12k)

Draco Malfoy was attacked by a rogue Dementor on the night of his Azkaban release. He self-exiled to Muggle London and opened a late-night chocolate shop called Kissed.

Voices From The Fog by @noeeon (2010, E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

And I Know the Spark by @firethesound (2014, E, 15k)

All Draco cares about is keeping Potter alive, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.

I'll never be your chosen one by @andithiel (2019, E, 15k)

Draco doesn't know what exactly he’s doing with Potter, he doesn't know how their unspoken agreement even started, and doesn't know where it will end. The only thing he knows is: he's not in love.

you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass (2018, M, 20k)

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

In His Nature by create_serenity (2015, M, 20k)

Harry agreed to have sex with Draco once a month in order to keep him alive, what he didn’t agree to was Draco popping up all over the place and disrupting his life in more ways than one.

Tuxedo Angel by tryslora (2013, E, 25k)

Harry and Neville are looking for the infamous Dragon Lily, a Dark witch active throughout Europe and Asia. Instead, they find the Tuxedo Angel, a beautiful witch performing in Rome.

Exposure by GallaPlacidia (2020, M, 27k)

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy's camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later.

Stain of Silence by brummell (2013, E, 28k)

After the war, Draco serves out his sentence in Harry Potter's house.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (2014, E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (2015, E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

The Bucket List by GallaPlacidia (2020, NR, 32k)

Draco will die in six months if he can't get Harry Potter to fall in love with him. Since that's not going to happen, he might as well spend his last days working through his Bucket List.

On One's Knees by pir8fancier (2008, E, 33k)

The war is over and to the victors go the spoils.

All Roads by @korlaena, Saulaie (2019, M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by @letteredlettered (2013, E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life.

As Souls From Bodies Steal by @femmequixotic (2012, E, 41k)

Hope may be found in the oddest of places, even in the bleakness of winter.

In The Red by @bixgirl1 (2018, E, 45k)

When Harry goes looking for a vampire at a Creature club, the second-to-last thing Harry expects is to find Malfoy working there.

Blood and Fire by @lqtraintracks (2017, E, 45k)

Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated.

Of Fates Entwined: A Story of Love Lost and Found by taradiane (2014, E, 51k)

Harry Potter vanished without a trace from his home on a warm summer morning in June 2004.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (2012, E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him.

You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore (2017, E, 65k)

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

We Are Young (I'll Carry You Home Tonight) by @femmequixotic (2012, E, 68k)

Harry and Draco have been falling into bed on and off again since the last election five years ago, much to the amusement--and financial gain--of their circle of friends.

Super Rich Kids by trishjames (2020, E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite.

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore (2013, E, 82k) - tw: major permanent disability, this one is sad af

When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration.

Balance, Imperfect by bixgirl1 (2017, E, 91k)

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (2019, E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (2020, E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre (2019, E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

Bonus 1: short fics!

Hourglass Heart @bixgirl1 (2019, E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (2012, E, 6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

hear me (with your whole body) by @teacup-tai (2020, E, 9k) - bittersweet ending

He would give it a go. See what it was like. He could always say no, right?

Bonus 2: other fics that suit your requirements. Mind the tags!

Unhook the Stars by jad (2012, E, 70k)

Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words.

A Big Black Sky by AlexMeg (2019, M, 90k)

Draco leans his head closer, biting the quiver out of his lips before he breathes a laden and shuddering exhale, and he whispers, "You are my star in a big black sky."

Another Mask Behind You by lettered (2014, E, 116k)

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him.

[corvixa]

I have this thing, that when an idea gets in my head, I either get it out on paper or it will create a traffic jam in my head and bugger up everything. So, not including my ongoing Fics, which includes the Gold Universe as part 4 is still nearly finished, I just need that last push on it. These are Ideas that can have anything from a few scenes, an idea, plots, or several chapters.

So I call this -

Winteriron WIP

(because what else 😅, I have a problem.)

In Fire & Flames - In this universe, Phoenixes and Humans live together, if one species dies then the other will too. When a Phoenix does for good, lots of natural disasters happen, starts with Tony'parents dying and then Rhodey, who is also a Phoenix, finds Tony. Who is now familyless and dying as lone phoenixes tend to die. There are several different kinds, and they come in pairs general. Golden and Ice, for example, Golden are high in magic, Ice tends to protect, especially the rare Golden, it's more tribes than individuals, there is no requirement for who likes who. It's surprising how much making a few other Avengers phoenixes tweaks things here and there, this actually goes up to the fight in Siberia and is one of the bigger WIP's. (26k)

Flash of Gold - Avengers are shifters or humans with magic, and they think they know what Tony is. They believe he is a human with magic, but they notice that he has some shifter traits, which is odd as shifters can't have magic in this AU. Only in very old stories and myth. Tony, however, is a dragon, which are myth. Instead of being like most shifters a, a human that shifts to something, he is the reverse. It only has a few scenes. Full shebang, team as Family. Steve is even a good guy. James is brought to the tower after being found and slowly integrated into the group and is wondering wtf Tony is. (13k)

The Operative Program - Howard was never meant to be a father; he was a weaponsmith. So he took the red room and the wolf spider programs and decided to create himself an Operative that he hoped would be the darker side to help Steve when he found him. Two sides of the same coin, one for the light and one to work in the shadows, Tony would be under Steve's control, he would be a weapon for the man who only picked up a shield. (Also assassin Tony is just fun.) Tony in this is a mash-up really, Tony traits, like Gold but different as he has been trained his entire life, the only reason he has developed a sense of self is Rhodey and the fact his parents died at 17. Rhodey got there first after the car crash, getting to Tony before anyone else who knew what he was could potentially claim him. Tony definitely collects people. Yinsen and Vanko for example. Chapters from Ironman up to Avengers (not complete). But enjoyed myself rewriting some out of sequence chapters, so there is a nice big scene in Siberia. (15k)

Another Persons Wish - Now this was based on a post I saw going around. Person A is married to Person B. Person A is looking back at their life and wondering if they should have married B, etc. So, A is offered a wish. Poof. Goodbye Marriage. Person A is Steve, and the story is from Tony, person B's POV. It goes from Tony planning his anniversary(because I was apparently extremely angsty when I started this!) to waking up in the past, alone and wondering what the fuck has happened. 6 chapters entirely written. Chapter 7 is in a different file and in progress when I dabble on it. (30k)

Tarnished Gold - This is an AU from my AU AU XD. Basically similar set up to the Gold Universe, Tony escapes Hydra Captivity but is brought in by Rhodey instead of spending 2 years on his own cleaning up Hydra. He only spends about 7 months before Rhodey convinces him to come in. Few other tweaks here and there but that is just side. Rhodey and James are pals too. The plot here is Howard and Maria are brought back from the Dead and Rhodey is trying to work out how to tell them what has happened and that he can't just bring them to Tony, because he doesn't know if Tony will remember them yet. Tony is a little less 'give me orders, and I'll gut you, and more 'orders made things easier'. I basically flipped his and James reactions from the original Gold universe. Tony is more in need of a hug. It's very loosely put together. I wanted something where Howard was a good dad to offset the fact I kind of made him Hydra in the next piece, and I wanted a good family man Howard with the bringing the parents back because I love reading fics that bring Howard and Maria back. (9k)

Sins of The Father - Arno has just buried his father. His mother is in a coma, he is 20 and mourning his life now he's expected to take on the business when a visitor flips his work upside down worse than the phone call about the crash. His Father? Part of a program that summoned a creature known as a Void Walker. (A creature from the Void Loki fell into, the only native species to that area, most others can't survive the void, so Loki will read as Void Touched and is 'To Be Protected' because I think that could shake up the Avengers section nicely.) Oh and he has Howards DNA. So Arno is freaked that he has a brother, that someone released and sent to him and Arno is 100% sure he is not meant to deal with severe traumatised half-human assassins that could be his kid brother. That is how Arno meets Tony and becomes very invested and turns up big brother protective instinct to 13. When summoned they're tired to a person and has to obey orders, that person was chosen as The Asset under the idea he can't disobey, which obviously fails as Winter does everything to protect Tony, including freeing him and sending him to Arno. His last order is that Tony is not allowed to go looking for or rescue Winter, which I think will be some nice drama when Bucky gets brought in (I really like this one) It has mostly set up but 2 scenes for in the future, Tony finding Coulson threatening Arno in IM2 and the data dump. (21k) (in this S/S Helped is Yelped, I'd fix it, but I've been working on this post forreeever)

Blood and an Arc - This came about from reading the Tony is a vampire fic and noticing that when he gets turned, generally Tony hates being a vampire. There aren't many where he comes back from Afghanistan a vampire and goes, huh... Well. This could be interesting. Loosely based on Vamp the Masquerade but I've tweaked it because my brain takes ideas and then runs off madly into the sunset. It is however utterly all over the place, some from Ironman and then random out of sequence chapters that I'm unsure about as I hadn't slept in a very long time on writing them and Tony went kind of Spike-ish calling James 'Pet'. I do like the idea of Tony fully embracing his changes. Yinsen never intended Tony to live, so he did something extra whilst turning him, so he is not an ordinary baby vampire and is convinced (justifiably so) that if he meets any other vamps, they'll try to kill him. In notes have Sam considering being a werewolf who works out Tony is a vamp and freaks out, because Vampires vs Werewolves and Tony is utterly confused and tells Sam he smells of mint (seriously, insomnia) Sam is baffled to find out the centuries of hatred that is claimed to be instinctual is actually taught. Sam gets kind happy he has a Vamp friend. (20k)

The Original Plan - This sets up around the end of the Mandarin (because honestly, I prefer working with Tony that has powered, especially because James has the serum and I personally think it would expand life span more than shown in Endgame. So I like evening things out and powered Tony is my jam) Tony has a bunch of plans, and they go awry. He doesn't see why and has zero clue what's going on. It's because no matter how well he plans this out, he's caught up in other people's plans. Steve is a little more "End goal justify the anything and everything." In other words, getting Bucky back is his plan and everyone are just pawns in said plan. I've taken that tactical genius title and also pushed him a little darker. After Ultron, he brings Wanda on for 3 reasons. 1 Precedence. 2 Fixing Bucky. 3 Making sure Tony doesn't find out about his parents and making sure he is on the team and available to fix Bucky's arm. That last bit changes things as instead of pulling away from the Avengers, Tony fully moves into the compound(just after AOU, it's not good). There will be no accords and Steve will find Bucky and just move him in and general plans on telling no one about the Winter Soldier. I summed up a chunk of AOU in this format, and I liked it (in an angst and pain fashion.) But it's quite long for a screenshot, so here's a chunk. Bucky is being brought in soon, but as it is, Tony is not having a good time, there might be Wanda conditions in his mind that Steve can use to convince Tony to do things... Also, because he is living there, I couldn't justify Sam not noticing there is something very wrong, so he is asking questions he didn't in canon as Tony's PTSD is more in his face living together you know? (16k)

[jq37]

The Report Card -- Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 1

Sophomores and Spring Break 

Note: Hey guys! I decided to try something a little bit different and slightly more structured than my usual recaps for FH: Sophomore Year. I’m hoping this will be a little easier for me and a more useful tool for keeping up to date since there will be a lot more eps to keep track of and they’ll be easier to miss. Lemme know what you think and if you want raw, unfiltered opinions on anything specific, feel free to send me an ask. I’m always down to go off about literally whatever. 

We’re back, baby! It is Sophomore Year at Aguefort and the gang is on Spring Break. A lot is going down so lemme break it down. The Bad Kids, having defeated Kalvaxus last year, are all entitled to a share of his hoard and all the red tape is finally cleared so they all get 20k gold each (which is an insane amount of money converted to USD if you use the WOTC conversion rate of a gold coin being around $145 (circa 2006 when they answered the question)--which would be close to $330 with inflation). Jawbone and Sandra-Lynn are moving in after less than a year into a profoundly haunted house and it’s kind of a Full House situation because Adaine, Fig, Kristen, and Tracker all officially live there (plus it seems that Zayn has also anchored himself to Adaine’s tower--btw, Adaine took the tower that the haunted house obviously has) and you know all the other Bad Kids are gonna be there on the regular. 

More importantly, Aguefort gives the gang their big project for the year--finding the crown of the Nightmare King which was stolen at the end of last season--which is worth 60% of their grade (Adaine does a full Hermione at this information). Each of the gang has info about the NK but the trail has mostly gone cold. Luckily, Fabian just got a hot tip about where Falinel is keeping Aelwyn and she seems like a pretty good lead to start with since she was super tied up in the bad side of all the messiness of last year. Adaine is displeased to say the least. 

Going off to find the crown is super exciting story-wise for two reasons. First of all, it means the gang gets to hire, well, hirelings to help them and temporarily join the party! They ping basically every cool NPC they can think of (except for Tracker for some reason which is BONKERS because (1) she probably would have done it for free and cutting her in would still be keeping the money in the family, (2) she’s dope as hell, (3) she’s a cleric and the party can always use more healers, (4) she’s a werewolf so presumably she has skills that would help in the woods, and (5) they’re t r a c k i n g down a crown and the girl’s name is literally T R A C K E R, but I will not backseat D&D) and eventually end up with Ragh (who has been without an adventuring party all year, poor guy), Sandra-Lynn (swayed by a nat 20 rolled by Fig), Cathilda (!?) ,and, for some reason, Gilear (which Fabian is happy about, mainly for the opportunity to maybe bump him off on the way). Second of all, if you recall, Elmville is a pretty modern town but the rest of the continent is less fantasy high, more high fantasy. Horses and lanterns and all that pseudo-medieval goodness. They are gonna stick out like a sore thumb. I am very here for it. 

Everyone goes home to rest up but, after some ominous dreams, only four of them wake up. Riz and Fig are left asleep and then Brennan mic drops and ends the episode which is a power move and I am extremely upset about it but also, respect. Right for the jugular immediately. I heard Murph and Emily are on tour in the UK next week which probably has something to do with this but, in the moment, I did not know that and I really felt the hammer drop in my heart. It was wild. Cannot wait to see where we go from here. Plus, who doesn’t love watching characters freak out because their friends are in danger?

Random Thoughts

I have no idea what the title of this episode is or if it’ll even have one and not a number but I gave it a placeholder one for now. I also don’t have access to the stream yet so I didn’t get to include some info I wanted to (like a record of nat 20s, and nat 1s so I can track their stats for the school year) and I probably missed some stuff because my brain can only hold so much info guys. I’m not Brennan. 

I mentioned this yesterday during the stream, but there will never be anything better than the pure D&D joy of everyone, in character, talking over each other to clown on each other. They get the friend-group banter that’s a hair breadth’s away from bullying so true to life and it’s so fun to watch. On the flip side, the opening scene with everyone introducing themselves and affirmatively claiming each other as their best friends was also peak D&D. Found family= best trope. 

Fig and Adaine burn spell-slots at basically the same time to try and beat each other to the best room in the (Scooby-Doo ass) house--which is exactly the kind of thing that would happen in this world. It’s such an intuitive setting. I love it so much. (BTW, Fig ends up staying in the false space under the revolving grand piano because, of course).

Fabian and Gorgug went to recruit Ragh, who assumed they were propositioning him for a three-way. In his defense, they did do it in a super proposition-y way and they were in the middle of the LGBTQ student union.

Also, Gorgug gives Ragh an inspiring speech about thinking you’re your own dad which makes him burst into tears. 

Speaking of, Jawbone offhandedly says he’s poly but, like, based on some of the stuff he’s said, I feel like that’s not really a reveal. He also gets along well with Gorthalax and would be down w/ a three-way if Sandra-Lynn wanted to which, again, totally checks out. 

Arthur Aguefort uses Chronomancy to rewind time and catch a snide comment Adaine made under her breath, which is exactly the kind of frivolous use of God-like power I’d expect from him.  

I really love Adaine’s energy coming into this season. She’s in therapy. She’s in a good home environment. She’s comfortable enough with her friend group to do stuff like prank Fig (love that they’re gonna be living together now). And she’s good friends with Zayn now which I want to see more of based on their one interaction in this ep which was very cute. I am already on record as saying I would be down with her getting a ghost boyfriend--I mean, for the aesthetic alone--but I’d be happy with just more friendship. 

Fabian is also hilarious this season because you can tell he’s gone a bit soft from having friends and leaning into that (the friendship necklace with Riz) but also he’s fully aware that it’s happening so he’s, like, ping-ponging back and forth like, “These are my friends,” and, “What am I saying? I used to be cool,” and it’s very funny. Very happy the Aelwyn storyline is happening right out of the gate, both because I think Aelwyn is a very interesting character with a lot of potential for nuance but also because Fabian reacting to her and Adaine reacting to Fabian reacting to her is always gold. 

Prompted by an offhand conversation from Fig about rock and roll, Brennan--earning another feather for his Cap of God Tier DMing--goes on an impromptu five minute long improved diatribe about a bard who played such a good concert that it instantly impregnated everyone in attendance (dudes too) who gave birth to kids with sick rocker hair and denim jackets and ascended to Rock Heaven on their 18th Birthday. You truly have to watch it to believe it. At a certain point I thought he was gonna drop it but that was the moment he doubled down and kept going. Amazing. 

Watching Murph, in real time, make up a girl/boy/whateverfriend in Fantasy Canada was a gift. 

I don’t have access to the stream yet but best quote of the night that I can remember is Kristen choosing her room: This is triggering and I’ll take it. (Her line about her lesbian starter kit and the one about wanting a horse were also bangers). 

The group talks about what they’re going to do for transportation outside of Elmsville since they don’t really use cars out there and they somehow get from “disguise Fig’s tour bus” to “commission Aguefort to create a brand new animal that can hold six people plus hirelings, one of which is Fabian who is also riding his motorbike”.

I love that Sandra-Lynn’s Mom Powers work on Tracker. 

Basrar doesn’t accept the invitation to come with on the quest, but he does give Kristen a bag of infinite ice cream sandwiches, which is basically just as good, IMO. 

Oh Gilear. The man is sleeping in the Seacaster garage, being bullied by skater kids, and now he’s stuck on this quest with his ex and Fabian who actively wants him dead.  

Speaking of, I’m psyched to see more of Sandra-Lynn. She was kind of a sleeper badass at the end of last season. 

Ragh is keeping secrets which I hope the cast doesn’t forget because it could be nothing serious (like the high school drama happening with Skrank and the 7 maidens--maybe he’s just crushing on Gorgug who did full kiss him during Promocalypse) or it could be Serious Business that will blow up if the don’t stay on top of it. We’ll see. 

Oh, almost forgot. Adaine wants an emotional support frog. Every time I think I can’t love her more.   

Detention

Fig for Not Respecting Personal Boundaries

Fig goes full Emily right out the gate and, after finding out that Skrank (nerdy bird dude who apparently can get it) was not only dating Ostentasia (rich, popular dwarf) but also dumped her in pursuit of Danielle Barkstock (one of Ostentasia’s party members, the scandal), disguises herself as him with Danielle to figure out what’s going on. And, wouldn't you know it, when she gives herself away, Danielle immediately is shocked and appalled, as you would be, obviously. We also learn that she’s still catfishing Dr. Asha which is, how you say, for sure a crime. Fig, please, I’m begging you. Cease. 

Honor Roll

Fig, Riz, and Adaine for Researching the Nightmare King

Fig made both lists, look at that. Wasn’t my plan for this to be a three-way tie (also didn’t expect to use the word “three-way” this many times in this writeup) but I think their contributions were pretty much equally valuable. Rainsolo on the Discord wrote up this summary of the lore dump Brennan gave them.

[everlarkficexchange]

In The End

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 76: historical au where katniss and peeta are betrothed since birth and peeta’s mom is actually nice. they grow up to be best friends neither of them knowing about the betrothal until something breaks their friendship and they become enemies. when they finally turn the right age, they find out about the betrothal and are forced to marry and consummate their marriage even if they despise each other. [submitted by anonymous]

  Tags/warnings: Rated Mature for Adult Situations and some description of injuries.

  Historical AU; Arranged Marriage; Friends to Enemies to Lovers; Canon Typical Violence; Anger and Hurt; Misunderstandings; As usual, a simple conversation would’ve fixed everything, but Nooo!; Angst; Smut; Nobody dies, so I guess that’s cool; this story away from me, word count sits at less than 20k… sorry; un-betaed, all mistakes are mine, and there will be a million of them because it was hastily edited. I apologize.

  Thank you @xerxia31 and @javistg for another great year of awesome prompts and fics. Thank you Anon for an awesome prompt! 

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

  Mr and Mrs Everdeen huddle together in their horse drawn carriage, traveling home after a taxing day with family, at a Will reading. She holds their brand new baby girl to her chest, he wraps his arms protectively around both his wife and infant daughter.

  “Do you think we are doing the right thing?” Mrs Everdeen asks her husband tearfully. “It just feels so drastic.”

  “Oh my darling, think of it as ensuring a future for little Katniss. Both our families together, can cultivate a happy childhood for the children; provide a safe place for them to grow up loving each other; invest time and create good memories for them. They will be alright. Things will work out. We have to trust we’ll do everything in our power to make sure the will turn out to be well adjusted adults and live in harmony when time comes.”

  “You think we can do it?” She asks with hope in her voice, tightening her hold on her baby.

  “I really do, darling. Little Peeta and baby Katniss will have a wonderful childhood full of love, they will grow up together and their futures will be secure. We will make it happen!”

————-

  The first raindrop splashes Peeta’s cheek like a cool kiss from the clouds. Another one lands on Katniss’ arm startling her. Both children look quizzically up at the open blue sky; there isn’t a single sign of bad weather except for a very dark, single cloud drifting slowly towards them.

  A new handful of droplets fall on the kids’ shoulders, foreheads and chests. They look at each other in wonder, eyes wide open and smiles curling their lips. Before they can utter a word to one another, the one gray cloud breaks into a downpour directly above them, soaking them both to the bones in a matter of seconds.

  The children scream like seven year olds do when pelted by icy cold rain, and take off running hand in hand back to the house ahead of the meadow where the little friends have been playing in the tall grasses.

  Back in the house the little friends rush through the kitchen doors talking loudly and gasping for air after a all the running.

  “Children! I thought I sent you both to play outside. Don’t be making a ruckus now, baby Primrose is trying to nap.” Chastises Nanny Coin, a severe woman with icy gray eyes and matching hair in a bun.

  The woman never smiles, and despises when children laugh, so they never mind taking their play time outside, or better yet, to the Mellark home, where warm cookies always wait.

  “But it’s raining!” Katniss protests, “and I can hear Prim screaming from the nursery!”

  It’s true, little Primrose cries disconsolate upstairs in the bedrooms, and Katniss mama can’t keep her tired eyes open. The nanny isn’t nearly as soft as mama, so Prim cries on, louder and louder. Katniss worries her baby sister will hurt her throat or get a headache; Katniss’ head always hurt after crying too long.

  “What should we do?” she whispers to her best friend, Peeta.

  He always has solutions to her problems, and his ideas usually come quickly. But Peeta is the baby in his own family, so he doesn’t know how to help this time around.

  “You could sing.” He suggests shyly.

  He hasn’t shared his secret with anybody, but his little heart swells every time his best friends sings. He’s sworn to himself time and again once he’s big, he’ll marry her, so she sing him lullabies to sleep every night.

  Katniss purses her tiny, pink lips. “I can’t do that without Papa! Distract the nanny for me, will you? I have an idea!”

  “How?” Peeta groans trying to keep with her anyway.

  Her girly legs are longer and faster than his stubby ones, he doesn’t understand how’s it possible she’s taller and more athletic than him, he’s a whole six months older than her! He’s doughy around the belly, where she’s lithe and nimble. They look so much like opposites physically, she’s olive skinned with hair as dark as ink, and his fair with rosy cheeks, wavy blonde hair and blue eyes like a summer sky.

  Peeta takes after his mother, and Katniss takes after her father, yet, they share a single great great Grandfather on their mothers side. It’s confusing to them at times, because they should be cousins like their mothers, but their families insist they’re not.

  “I don’t know!” Katniss says annoyedly over her shoulder, smacking her friend’s arm with one of her twin long braids. “Draw something funny on the wall or something. That’ll drive Nanny Coin crazy!”

  Peeta balks at the preposterous idea, but follows suit without a hesitation once in front of the nursery door. Katniss slips inside the room where the wailing baby lays in her crib, while the nanny rebukes little Peeta for being naughty with that charcoal knob of his. He places his hand on the woman’s apron, leaving behind a perfectly imprint of his hand in sooty dark. Nanny Coin screeches, and a crazy chase ensues while the woman demands Peeta stays still for a good spanking.

  Katniss peeks out the door biting her lip guiltily, she didn’t want her friend to get in trouble, but the stain on the apron was completely intentional by the way his blue eyes sparked in her direction right before he did it. Katniss hurries to her sister, a small bundle of fully functional lungs that keeps turning purple in the face the longer she screams.

  “Hush, Little Duck, big sister’s here! Do you want to hear a story? This one is from papa, he’s the best storyteller ever, but he now works in an office now, it’s safer than working in the mines where the sun don’t shine, but it’s hard work and someone who cares for the miners had to do it, or at least that’s what he tells everyone… anywho… have you heard about the Mockingjays?”

  Prim doesn’t stop crying, so Katniss picks her up from the firm crib and loosens the blankets the infant is swaddled in. Prim’s eyes open a fraction to look up, then she calms fractionally, listening close.

  “Mockingjays are little songbirds, their plumage is black as night, with specks of white in the under wing. They’ve a crest they get from their father, the Jabberjay. He’s just a chattering one, always repeating what he hears others talk about, he’s a big gossip if you ask me. Mama always says that gossiping is not polite, so you and I shan’t do it, but it’s alright for jabberjays. The singing voice of the mockingjays comes from their mommy, the always delightful Mockingbird…”

  Katniss keeps taking in a soothing voice, bouncing the babe in her arms as she walks in a wide loop around the room, while unbeknownst to her, her papa who arrived home just in time to save little Peeta from a spanking, looks on from the door, with a warm, hand on Peeta’s chubby shoulder. The little boy thinks it again, watching his friend cooing to the baby, he’s going to grow up to marry Katniss Everdeen, then she’ll tell him bedtime stories lovingly!

  ——————

  “But why can’t I go sit with Peeta during his lessons?” Katniss asks grumpily at her mother. “It’s the same tutor anyway!”

  “Because you’re starting your own classes, darling.” Says Mama bouncing little Primrose on her lap while Katniss gets fitted for her brand new dress, a gift from Papa, for the first day with her tutor at home. “You’re curriculum is different than Peeta’s; Professor Abernathy has created a schedule fitting for a lady, just for you.”

  Katniss doesn’t understand why suddenly she needs private schooling. She was doing great at the public schoolhouse. Sure, it was a single class for all the children of town regardless of age, but Katniss loved it there and her teacher, Miss Lavinia. No matter how hectic school was, the young teacher managed to carve one o one time with each of her students at least for a few minutes daily.

  Katniss doesn’t think it’s fair she has be schooled at home on her own while all her friends from the schoolhouse had fun in class— except for Peeta of course. Peeta had never gone to the schoolhouse. His family l, the Mellarks, are bakers and the wealthiest people in town. They could afford private tutors for all three of their sons.

  Peeta always complains of how lonely and boring it is at home without classmates. His siblings are there, but they never chat during lulls in class. It wasn’t that he didn’t socialize with peers from town, Peeta’s the friendliest, most talkative boy Katniss ever known, but he envies Katniss for spending time independently from everyone, he thinks the little girl is very brave in that regard, and that makes Katniss very proud of herself.

  A few times a week Mrs. Mellark, Peeta’s mother, kindly invites Katniss to sit in Peeta’s piano lessons or in his art class— art is Peeta’s favorite subject by far— But lately, they’ve started teaching him more applied subjects like algebra, social sciences, statistics, and economics, and his tutor has insinuated more than once, that having the two children together in the class is a distraction to both.

  Katniss is ten now, Mama and Papa decided it’s time to start getting a more dedicated education for her future standing. They hired Ms. Trinket as governess, and Ms. Trinket convinced Profesor Abernathy to tutor both children two days a week.

  Professor Abernathy’s an eccentric drunk, with the highest credentials in the country. Mrs. Mellark was very impressed with the man, and profusely thanked the Everdeens for putting so much effort into Katniss’ education when she learned they hired his services as well.

  Katniss is puzzled about the exchange between her parents and Peeta’s mother, but the boy only shrugs noncommittal when his little friend muses about it.

  “Why would your folks care about my education?” Ponders Katniss staring at her friend who’s absorbed into his drawings. “It doesn’t add up!” Exclaims Katniss pursing her lips and crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you reckon, Peeta?”

  The boy says nothing.

  “Peeta,” Katniss insists, but when she gets the same answer, she stands from her plush chair and stomps unladylike to shake her friend’s shoulder. “Pee-ta!” Katniss pulls too harshly on her friend’s arm, causing him to scratch up his sketch.

  “Hey! What gives?” He cries in aggravation. “Why did you do that for?” He asks turning pink in the face.

  But Katniss barely hears him. She’s enthralled, staring at Peeta’s leather bound book, where the most vivid images are plastered page over page. She picks up the book and starts leafing through it.

  “You made all this?” She asks in awe, staring with wide eyes at the different portraits in the pages. There’s little Prim with her pet goat, Lady; there’s also Professor Abernathy, with a better groomed head of hair than she remembers while the rest of him looks as dull as ever. Then there’s the town’s church and the graveyard next to it. And then, there’s her… all over the book. In different stages of completion.

  Drawings of her braid, or her eyes; drawings of her scowling with her arms crossed on her chest petulantly; drawings of her smiling at Prim; there’s one where she’s wagging her finger menacingly at a raccoon that had tried to pull Peeta’s wavy hair one day from a low branch. The raccoon looks terrified of the little miss.

  Peeta tears the book out of Katniss hands and shoves it behind his back quickly. His cheeks are blotchy red with embarrassment.

  “That’s private!” He tells his friend mortified and upset.

  Katniss scowls, but after a moment, hangs her head contritely. “I’m sorry for looking without asking, Peeta.” She looks up at him then. “But the pictures where too pretty not to. I should have asked you first. I won’t do it again.”

  Peeta stares at her deflated form for a second, then his extended pinkie finger materializes under her nose.

  “I’ll show you my book, if you ask the next time you want to see my drawings, Pinkie promise?”

  Katniss smiles at her best friend and links her pinkie with his. “Pinkie promise!”

  “You wanna spit on it to make it unbreakable?”

  “Eww! No. We are not eight anymore. Spitting is for children, Peeta.”

  —————-

  Prim falls in the meadow behind the Everdeen home and scraps her knees while trying to catch up with Katniss and Peeta, as they run around flying Peeta’s new kite.

  Prim is sniffling pitifully, “Tell me the story of the mo-ingjay and the Winnow…”

  “The Mockingjay and the Willow, again?” Asks Katniss making a face.

  “Katniss, remember you said you wanted to help. Telling your sister a story while I clean her knees is the best way you can help me right now.” Says mama kindly, but not giving much room for protests.

  “Very well,” Katniss sighs, “So there once was a sad willow tree in the middle of a field—“

  “An island!” Prim protests crossing her arms brattily. “Last time you said it was an island. Start it over!”

  “Ugh!” Katniss groans, “How am I supposed to remember every single detail of this tale?”

  Peeta taps his friend’s shoulder, lifting a small hardcover book he carries around to doodle on. “I can write it down while you are both here to keep all the details faithful to Prim’s memory.”

  Katniss grins at her best friend. He sets to write down the story, word by word, and once he’s alone in his room before bed at home, he pulls the book out one more time and starts drawing drafts of a small crested bird hopping along the limbs of a willow tree. He works on the sketches until sleep pulls him under.

  —————

  “Animi est plus fortis quam musculus.”

  “Ugh… that was pitiful, Sweetheart. Concentrate and read it again, without wiggling your tongue in your mouth so much.”

  Katniss glares at her tutor from behind the lectern he insists she uses when reciting her Latin, reading poetry or simply asking questions.

  “Animi est plus fortis quam musculus.” She repeats twisting her tongue extra sharply, just to be contrary.

  “Better!” Calls Professor Abernathy checking his golden pocket watch. “Alright, now, what does that phrase mean, Miss Everdeen? And do hurry up with that answer, we only have five more minutes before that wench comes to fetch me.”

  Abernathy and Ms. Trinket hated each other the moment they met for Katniss’ first class. Watch them interact was the most entertaining thing Katniss had ever seen two adults do.

  The girl muses for a moment, scratching the back of her leg with the toe of her shoe, just because she knows Ms. Trinket would be horrified by the act.

  “The mind is stronger than the muscle?”

  “Mightier, but yes. You got it right, Sweetheart! The mind is mightier than the muscle.” Says Abernathy giving his pupil a rare smile that makes the muscles in his face ache from disuse. “Never forget it, Sweetheart, and you’ll be better off than many.”

  The professor was about to give his student a list of things to do to prepare for the their next lesson in two days time, but as clockwork, Ms. Trinket knocks on the door, and lets herself in without invitation just to announce it’s time for Katniss to join her mother in the drawing room for sewing.

  Katniss suppresses a groan. At least during tutoring hours she gets to speak her mind to some extent. Abernathy wants her to think for herself, and told her father he was going to teach her Latin, poetry, Greek and Roman mythology, and math, like he taught her male peers. But she was still a girl, and society dictates she needs training in a preconceived set of skills such as sewing, knitting, and hosting.

  Katniss follows Ms.Trinket almost dragging her feet on the carpet. They pass the drawing room without entering, which puzzles Katniss greatly.

  “Ms. Trinket, please, was I not supposed to go into the drawing room to sit with my mother?”

  “You will, after you change into a fresh outfit. You have visitors today, I’m afraid.” Ms. Trinket informs her charge.

  “Who’s visiting?” Katniss asks eagerly.

  “Miss Everdeen, mind your manners. It is not very polite to badger someone with questions while they’re in the middle of relaying information to you, child.” Chides Ms. Trinket.

  Not until Katniss gives a very winded apology, does Ms.Trinket finish telling her that she’s to have tea in the parlor with Mrs. Mellark and her youngest son, Master Peeta.

  Katniss smile could split her face in half. She tries to hide the spring in her step the same way she hid her slouch earlier. Ms. Trinket is not very into demonstrations of emotions, and everything has to be so measured it’s a chore on itself. Professor Abernathy often says that Ms. Trinket sucks the joy out of life. He may be onto something.

  Nevertheless, Katniss doesn’t argue when she’s put in the puffiest dress in her wardrobe, with three petticoats and the scratchiest stockings she’s ever worn. Ms. Trinket laments there’s no time to do anything new with Katniss’ hair, which makes Katniss scowl. She likes her braids. Peeta told her once he loves drawing them for whatever reason; she assumes that means he likes her braids too, so there’s no reason to change them.

  During tea, Peeta and Katniss are made to sit still, in opposite chairs from one another, with a tea table laden with finger foods between them. Is the boriest play date yet, but they can speak with their eyes, and Peeta’s facial expressions keeps threatening to make Katniss snort tea through her nose.

  “Peeta, Katniss, you both will be thirteen this year, and it will be highly inappropriate for you two to be alone, together, in a room.” Says mama Everdeen after some inane conversation.

  “Why would it be inappropriate? Are we not allowed to play in the meadow either?” Asks Katniss with wide eyes.

  Peeta looks equally troubled.

  “You are just not children anymore, and things need to change just a little. You will still see each other often, only in other settings.” Explains Mrs. Mellark kindly.

  “Peeta will come for tea with Katniss twice a week, and either Ms. Trinket or Professor Abernathy will sit with you both while you have an amiable conversation.” Says Mama glancing periodically at Mrs Mellark for support.

  “Also, I’m afraid that for now on, there won’t be any touching, or sharing a sofa. You two may walk around the gardens with your chaperones, and as for games you can play checkers, cards or chess.”

  Katniss groans before she can stop herself. Ignoring her mother’s glare she complains, “But Peeta always wins chess and checkers!”

  “And the gardens aren’t fun if you can’t explore it without worrying about staying clean, so, do we have to dress so stuffy all the time now as well?” Peeta asks frowning.

  “There will be no silly, childish games. why you two are old enough to converse on literature you’ve read or even read aloud to each other. It’s time you started doing more mature things, you know.” Says Mrs. Mellark drinking from her teacup.

  Peeta raises his hand half way. “Why grow up when we can be out in the meadow flying kites, or sunbathing, or even better, doing things we actually enjoy, like sitting on the grass barefooted or chasing frogs in the creek?”

  “Peeta, dear, your mother just explained you are not a children anymore. It’s time you both learn how to act like proper teens in society.” Says Mama Everdeen stoically. “You both have grown beautifully, and it’s time to leave childhood behind for the grown up version of yourself we’ve strived to reach.”

  Neither Katniss nor Peeta quite understand this concept, but they still enjoy spending time with each other and figure is best to not to argue and let the mother get their way for now.

  As predictable as it is, the youngsters favorite chaperone is Professor Abernathy. They get to sit on the Persian rug on the floor next to each other and leaf through books together; usually Peeta shows his sketches and doodles, and Katniss thinks up different scenarios for him to draw.

  One day, Professor Abernathy yawns, glaring at the children holding up their stomachs and covering their mouths with charcoal stained fingers, while a peel of laughter wakes him up from a nap.

  “If you two want me to keep pretending I’m supervising this silly little dates, you have to do something constructive with your time to show for. I can say I’m teaching you urchins something valuable, and you too would be able to spend time without the governess from hades poking her head in the door every five minutes.”

  “We do not know how to pretend we are working on a project, Professor.” States Peeta slowly, fishing for ideas almost.

  Professor Abernathy grunts, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Alright. What is it that you two do when you crowd over that book of yours?” Asks the man tiredly. His eyes urging them to think, use their brains if they had one.

  “We make stories that Katniss writes down,” Says Peeta.

  “Then Peeta illustrate them for me.” Katniss adds, her mind already working on an idea.

  “Well, can you find something educational you can substitute for the stories?” Offers the professor.

  Peeta nods his head in understanding, a slow smile forming in his lips. “Like a scientific journal?”

  “I think I have the perfect thing to work on!” Says Katniss delighted, “Why it will require us to spend a great deal of time outside!” She claps.

  Both teenagers brainstorm ideas on their new project, settling for Katniss idea of a book about plants. Her Papa knows all about edible plants, and her mother knows about medicinal ones, but nobody has ever thought of putting the knowledge into paper for later generations. There’s a variety of plants in the Everdeen’s garden— both edible and medicinal— so all Katniss and Peeta need to do is take a stroll outside and look at greenery. Even Primrose is welcome to join.

  The friends set out to work on their book; Peeta draws the plants with painstaking details, splurging in colorful pastels, more expensive than his usual charcoals; then Katniss writes in careful cursive the name, physical descriptions and a small explanation about the specific plant, next to Peeta’s drawing. They seal the finished pages with salt water.

  Mister Everdeen walks into the parlor one day while the two friends are working on their book. He sees the vivid picture of a dandelion both in seed and in bloom. The drawing is so detailed he can see each individual petal of the sun ray yellow crown, and each feathered-like seed pod. The leafy part is so lifelike, Mister Everdeen makes a double take to confirm it is indeed colored into the page and not pasted there. The roots in the drawing even have a few clumps of dirt falling from the base where the plant was supposed to be buried in the ground.

  “Say, Children, may I take a look at your book?” Papa Everdeen asks over Katniss and Peeta’s shoulders.

  The two friends stare at each other stunned for a quick moment, but Peeta finally hands over the book open to the page he’s currently sketching.

  “This is remarkable work, children. What’s the title?” Katniss’ Papa asks leafing through the book with a smile of wonder on his face.

  “Title, Papa?” Asks Katniss cocking her head, so her single long braid hangs like a rope over her shoulder. Now that she’s thirteen, double braids seem too kiddie.

  “Well, every best seller book has a catchy name.” Says mister Everdeen giving his daughter a wink.

  Peeta’s lips purse sideways, “Maybe ‘a guide to herbs’?” He proposes.

  “Too stiff.” Counters the girl squinting. “Our tome is more like a… dictionary for plants.”

  “A herb dictionary? How clever.” Says Papa kindly.

  “A Herbonary?” Peeta jests, chuckling.

  “Very clever indeed, Peeta, m’boy!”

  “I like it too! The Herbonary it is!” Katniss beams at her best friend who promptly turns scarlet on the cheeks.

  Mister Everdeen notices the boy’s blush, and smiles fondly, turning away from him to not cause his embarrassment to deepen.

  “Have you consider selling copies for money? We could go with this to the printing press and make a nice nest egg for your future? I bet there’s a market for it, and you can come up with a pen name you can publish it under… how about P.K. Everlark?”

  The two teens exchange stunned stares.

  “We… have no intentions on selling our book, Mister Everdeen. This is merely a past time we concocted to be able to play outside when Miss Trinket chaperones us.” Peeta explains truthfully, but Katniss throws him a warning glare an a well aimed elbow to the ribs.

  Mister Everdeen laughs joyfully at the boy’s candidness and his daughter’s reaction. “Thank you for your honesty, son. And I promise I won’t let slip this information to the mothers or miss Trinket. Your secret is safe with me,” he winks at Katniss for good measure. “Now, I’ll let you both be,” he says glancing in Professor Abernathy’s direction with a smirk. “Don’t wake your professor, he looks like he needs the rest.” The man saunters out of the parlor still smirking.

  Peeta and Katniss giggle to one another.

  ———

“Pssst… Peeta! Over here!” Katniss hisses lowly as soon as her best friend walks past her hiding spot.

  “Katniss?” He calls quietly, looking left and right before taking a huge step sideways, as inconspicuous as a sixteen year old boy with his broad physique can move while hiding behind a heavy curtain. “What are you doing here? Your mother is about to hit the roof looking for you!” Peeta whispers, squinting in an effort to actually focus on his friend’s face, but it’s no use in the dim wrong side of the curtain.

  “Well, if she wanted me to be part of this party, she should’ve asked me what I wanted to do and who I wanted to do it with, before throwing this monstrosity of a celebration. Why she didn’t even listened to my choice in outfit!”

  Peeta smiles wryly. He can practically hear Katniss’ scowl. “Really?” He asks convinced she’s exaggerating. “Did she ban your riding trousers? Did she wrangled you out of a cotton green dress?”

  He tried not to snicker, because the cotton dress incident was still a point of contention between Katniss and her mother. Mrs. Everdeen was dismayed to learn her daughter wore an A line, button down, forest green cotton dress to a church cookout the previous summer. Katniss said the dress was comfortable for the stuffy heat, and her mother said it was plain and beneath her station, she went as far as telling her she was not to wear the cotton outfit outside the house, which Katniss tried to go around it a handful of times before grudgingly giving up the garment.

  Katniss groans. “It’s worse than anything I’ve ever worn! I’m swimming in a sea of salmon color taffeta. It’s so itchy and big, I feel like a walking, pink marshmallow.”

  “Come now, Katniss. It cannot be that bad. Did you really expected your folks not to throw you the biggest ball of the century for your Sweet Sixteen?” He cajols lowly.

  His head is so close to Katniss’ she can feel his breath— warm and dense— against her cheek. She’s momentarily speechless at the strange swoop in her stomach at his proximity, but she’s almost used to this occurrence by now. It keeps happening every time he’s close. It’s been like this for the last year or so. The only thing she can do is shake her head stubbornly.

  “Mother knows I’m no good at making friends or saying something in public. Why does she insist on this waste of time?” She whines.

  Peeta chuckles as quietly as he can. “It’s alright, Kitty.” He said, using a nickname he very seldom let escape him. “I’ll speak for the both of us, and I’ll make friends with everyone and then introduce you to them so you can win them over as well.”

  “Win them over? Are you as daft as my mother? I’m terrible at socializing, Peet!” She waves her arms, perturbing the curtain.

  “Hey! You’re going to betray our hiding place!” Peeta hisses.

  “Katniss? Are you in here?” Comes Prim’s muffled voice at the other side of the thick material.

  “Ugh! Come on, we’ve been found!” Katniss grouses, and grips Peeta’s wrist to pull him out of hiding, except it’s not his wrist her fingers wrap around with force.

  Peeta gasps painfully— in more than the obvious way— while Katniss wrenches her hand away from her friends mishandled crotch.

  “I’m so sorry!” She chokes out from behind her hand. “I’m so very sorry, Peeta, please forgive me!”

  “It’s alright, Kitty,” he coughs raggedly, right before Prim steps behind the curtain with them. “Having offspring is overrated anyway.” He gasps.

  “Oh!” She smacks his chest when he chuckles, “Stop! Here I am all worried about you…”

  “Why? What happened?” Prim inquires curiously, “Also, Mama is going to ground until you’re forty five if you don’t emerge from hiding right away.” The girl says brightly. “Peet, are you sweating?”

  But Katniss is already throwing the curtain aside and making sure she’s not manhandling anyone’s family jewels this time.

  As soon as Peeta emerges, Katniss gives him another apologetic glance.

  “What happened to you?” Prim asks again noticing just how awkward Peeta’s standing.

  “Fine. I’m fine.” He huffs.

  “You don’t sound very fine. I couldn’t look you up, in case you need medical assistance.”

  “It won’t be necessary, I just need a drink of fresh water and I’ll be right as day.”

  “If you’re sure…” Primrose shrugs, “Oh well, I’m going to taste the adorable french foods mama commissioned for the party! There’s so much chocolate! Ta-ta!” The young girl is gone as soon as she came, leaving Katniss glowering at her uncomfortable shoes.

  She hates the how they pinch her toes.

  Peeta on the other hand, is finally able to take a good look at his friend, and is left momentarily speechless at the sight.

  He gulps his saliva loudly enough it ensnares Katniss’ attention. She narrows her gray eyes at him.

  “Are you sure you’re right? You seem unwell.”

  “You’re… beautiful!” He finally breathes out. He can’t remember his best friend ever wearing makeup before today, and although is a very subtle layer of lipgloss and barely noticeable rouge, he can tell is there, and he can’t stop gawking.

  Katniss blushes. “Peeta, you’re staring.” She mumbles averting her eyes.

  The words snap him back to his senses, and he finally forces his eyes from her pretty face. “I’m sorry.” He mutters.

  Katniss sighs. “It’s alright. I know I look ridiculous. I mean—“

  “No! You’re not ridiculous at all! You’re… pretty. I mean, it’s different but… um… very nice.” He stutters rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his eyes twitching between her and the rest of the room.

  “Nice? Please! I’m a pink nightmare!”

  “Well… I can concur that salmon is not a hue I would chose personally, but if I squint really hard, the material looks more like orange, and you know how partial I am to orange.” Peeta tries to make his friend smile.

  “This is horrible, Peeta.” Katniss laments dramatically. “Can you hide me?”

  Peeta chuckles and throws one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him for a hug. “I can try. How’s this?” He asks, his voice deep and low makes a shiver go down her back, and her tummy warms up.

  Katniss breathes Peeta’s manly scent deeply. “This is loads better.” She mumbles burying her face into his dinner jacket.

  Peeta wraps both arms protectively around his friend. They sway to the music coming from the parlor, where a string quartet plays soft, ambient tunes.

  “I made you cheese buns.” Peeta whispers quietly into her hair.

  Katniss squeezes him into her arms. “You’re the best! Thank you!”

  She lifts her head to kiss him gratefully on the cheek, but he lowers his face at the same time to tell her a funny anecdote about his brother’s attempt at stealing one of the buns. Her lips land halfway over his, and they freeze in place.

  Peeta’s blue eyes almost bulge out of the sockets. Katniss’ face burns in mortification, but after a fraction of a second staring at each other in complete and utter horror, they both move at the same time, to meet their lips in the middle.

  A voice in the distance breaks the spell. “Miss Everdeen, where are you now?”

  The two teens jump apart as soon as Miss Trinket’s voice reaches them.

  “Come on, Kitty, I slaved over half of those hors d'oeuvres. The least you can do is stuff your face full of them, and ruin your taffeta dress in the process.” Peeta says dragging Katniss away from the upcoming governess as fast as they can slip away.

  Katniss is breathless when they arrive to the canapés table— from the kisses and the haste in which they moved— her eyes are wide and her mouth is dry. She doesn’t move an inch away from Peeta. She can’t, even if she wanted to; she’s stuck to him by an invisible force, much like magnets.

  Everything would be alright if they hadn’t run straight into Peeta’s mother at the table, overseeing the waiters placing fresh plates of puff pastries, crackers with generous dollops of caviar and little foie gras mounds sprinkled with parsley on a bed of cherry tomatoes. Katniss’ stomach protests. What ever happened to sandwiches?

  There’s a table with soups on the other side of the room, she wishes they could head there now.

  “Oh, good. Peeta, you found Katniss!” Mrs. Mellark says glancing at the teens. “My, my! You look lovely tonight dear! Happiest of birthdays, and a very sweet sixteen, Katniss, darling!” The woman hugs Katniss effusively, and the girl can barely breathe of mortification.

  “Oh, but look at you! I knew Ms. Portia was the right choice for your dress. Peeta, my darling, would you be a dear and escort the birthday girl to the dance floor so the ball can officially begin? Nobody can dance until the debutant has had her first dance of the night, you know.” Mrs. Mellark’s bright blue eyes rest on Katniss’ burning face with fondness. “Go on, dance the night away you two. You’re only sixteen once!” Peeta’s mother cooes nudging them away to the dance floor.

  “Katniss shoes are pinching her toes.” Says Peeta over his shoulder trying to get out of dancing. He knows his best friend hates to be the center of attention, plus he is as graceful on the dance floor as an enraged bull in a china shop.

  “Then just do the one song and go sit afterwards, but truly, you two need to get in there… now!” The woman says with finality, and to make matters worse, Mrs. Everdeen spots them right then, and starts coming towards them.

  “Peeta…” Katniss whispers.

  “It’s alright. I’ve got you. If the shoes are really terrible, toss them away and dance in your stockings.”

  Katniss looks up at Peeta in time for him to give her a wide spin in the middle of the dance floor, and suddenly the music starts anew.

  Mrs. Everdeen and Miss Trinket— who’s just joined the hunt for the reluctant dancers— are forced to stay at the edge of the ring of partygoers, watching the birthday girl and her escort dance.

  Unexpectedly, Katniss and Peeta dance the night away, laughing and eating everything in the room, having a good ol’ time. Her uncomfortable shoes lay forgotten under a chair by the punch table, and the owner doesn’t miss them one bit all night.

  Peeta intertwines his fingers with his dance partner and only lets go after he kisses her cheek good night.

  ———

“Father is sending me and my brothers abroad.” Says Peeta agitated a week after Katniss’ sweet sixteen party..

  “How long?” Katniss asks under her breath. Miss Trinket clears her throat obnoxiously behind them. Katniss glares in turn, but faces ahead, pretending she’s interested in any of the flowers in the garden.

  “A year.” Peeta answers mechanically. “He wants us to attend some college courses, get some worldly experience; see how life is in foreign country and whatnot.” Peeta looks up at her beseechingly. “I don’t want to go. We have never been separated that long before.”

  Miss Trinket harumps again. “Dears, it’s impolite to murmur while there’s a third party with you.”

  “Then by all means, Miss Trinket, will you be so kind to give me and my dearest of friends, a so much craved privacy, so he can tell me what’s troubling him without having to speak in hushed tones?” Katniss practically growls.

  “Well, I’ve never!” The governess is in the process of snatching Katniss, arm to drag her back into the house, when Mister Everdeen happens into the yard to save the situation.

  “Ah! Miss Trinket excuse my interruption,” He bestows a blinding smile on the woman who simply nods and half curtsies.

  “No at all, sir. Please, join us.” Says Miss Trinket affably.

  After nodding gratefully, the man completely ignores the governess. “Peeta, m’boy, I heard from your father about the exciting opportunity you and your brothers have been presented with. I understand you four leave for port the day after tomorrow?”

  Katniss’ breath catches. Her head swivels smacking Peeta’s shoulder with her thick braid. “So soon? You didn’t say you were leaving so soon!” She accuses.

  “I… was about to when…” his blue eyes travel to Miss Trinket showing every ounce of annoyance he’s feeling, “never mind that. I’m sorry. I’m afraid today I came to say goodbye for a while.”

  Katniss is to the brink of tears.

  “Mmm… the day is so warm and nice though,” comments Mister Everdeen, taking a deep breath and looking at the sky above then in awe, “Why don’t you two take the horses out for a ride? Then master Peeta can join us for supper.”

  “I wouldn’t want to impose—“

  “Nonsense. Miss Trinket will see to it that your mothers are informed of the dinner plans while you’re out riding. Have fun, and don’t break any bones.” Mr. Everdeen winks at his daughter, “Miss Trinket?” He nods at the lady and let’s his long legs carry him inside the house.

  “Well, I guess propriety is out the window then.” Huffs miss Trinket. “By all means, go on your jolly horseback ride. Just be sure to be back here in thirty minutes to wash up for supper.”

  The two friends grin at each other, while Miss Trinket mutters under her breath heading to the kitchen door from the garden.  

  “Come on then!” Katniss urges taking Peeta’s hand in hers.

  They ride for five minutes before finding a clearing in the woods they like and stopping to sit together on the grass.

  They talk and abuse Effie Trinket for her aggravating meddling. “As if we’d do something inappropriate!”

  “Hogwash!”

  They prove her right a second later, when Peeta suddenly can’t hold back any longer and lunges forward, catching Katniss’ face in his hands and kissing her fervently on the lips for a solid minute without breathing at all.

  His hands are still cradling her face. The fingers of one of her hands twine with his; the fingers of her free hand start carding through his hair, pushing it from his eyes.

  “Am I being too bold?” He asks quietly leaving delicate kisses on the side of her face, down her jaw.

  “No. You’re being the right amount of bold. Stop talking and kiss me some more.”

  Peeta chuckles, and obeys.

  “I’ll write to you everyday,” he says against the delicate skin under her ear.

  “Mmm… I’ll write once a month if I can muster any words to put pen to paper.” She sighs.

  Peeta smiles to that. “Fibber! I bet you’ll be keeping a journal, so you don’t miss a story on any given day.”

  Her arms go around his neck. “Maybe you’re right. We will see.”

  Peeta lays her on her back, on top of his discarded riding coat, and words cease to matter until time comes to get back to the Everdeens for supper. And what a chore it is to temp down their need to stay wrapped up in each other, after so many kisses on the grass.

  “You’ll wait for me to return, won’t you? You won’t be kissing other boys while I pine away abroad?”

  Katniss smiles against his lips, “I won’t, but you have to promise the same,” she lifts her between them, her pinky finger extended and her eyebrows arched. “You won’t go breaking some foreign girl’s heart and coming home engaged to a stranger.”

  Peeta chuckles, but hooks his own pinky finger with hers to seal the promise. “I can assure you, my heart will remain in Panem, until I can come back to claim again.”

  “Good! We have an accord then.” Her fingers caress his cheek sweetly.

  “Seems we do!” He kisses her one last time.

  ———

  The year is up, and true to their word, Katniss and Peeta never stop their correspondence until the very last day of his journey abroad.

  She’s eagerly waiting for his arrival, counting down  the days, the hours and minutes. There’s so much to tell him! So many new people to introduce him to, like her new next door neighbors, the Hawthornes.

  Katniss really hopes Peeta gets along with her new neighbor boy, Gale Hawthorne, she befriended him and likes him a good deal despite he’s broody disposition; the young man proved to be a great hunting partner. Peeta isn’t much for hunting, he rather spend time fishing in the lake, so Katniss hopes the two boys can find something in common to bond over, so they can all spend time together.

  Her mind wanders away from her to thoughts of spending time with just Peeta… her heart beats wildly and her cheeks warm up.

  Now that she’s seventeen, maybe Papa will agree she’s old enough to be courted, and Peeta has hinted repeatedly he would like nothing more than officially ask permission to call on her as more than her childhood friend. She figures, in a way, they’ve been practicing for courtship all those years having tea with a chaperone breathing down their necks; she wonders if Peeta gets permission to court her properly, they could skip the six month to a year recommend engagement period, and go straight to the marriage and living under one roof, sharing one bed?

  Now her whole body is burning with sinful sensations. Her and Peeta have only shared a few tight lip kisses and chaste caresses, but lately, she can’t stop wondering about what would it be to free with her kisses and embraces? Sharing a bed with her ‘Boy with the Cheese Buns’ would certainly be the sweetest thing of all.

  The giddiness of her prospect future is threatening to choke her with happiness; not even Prim’s relentless— yet harmless— teasing puts a damper on Katniss’ spirits. Her future is so near, she can almost taste it!

  ———-

  Peeta and his brothers arrive early on a Sunday. He doesn’t reach out to her right away though. As disappointing as it is, Katniss understands. The Mellarks have been traveling for almost two weeks before arriving home; Peeta’s probably exhausted. She couldn’t possible begrudge him a bit of rest. In fact, resting will do wonders for a romantic encounter!

  Two days go by and a note from Peeta arrives to the Everdeens.

My dearest, Kitty:

  I apologize for not being to see you yet. I wished I had a better excuse to give, but I think I slept thirty hours through since arriving home, and now that I’m awake mother and father have been particularly overbearing. Neither my brothers or I have had time to get away on our own, which is to put it mildly, quite annoying!

  I think my eldest brother might start a mutiny soon if he doesn’t get to call on his Sweetheart, Delia Cartwright. I think I may I have mentioned he’s proposing to her as soon as he sees her?

  It’s probably the reason mother has decided to drag the whole family on a holiday to the countryside for the rest of the week. We leave within the hour, and she just only sprung this news on us! She says “we’re celebrating all three of her boys are back home under one roof, and it may very well be the very last time to have a vacation with her babies.”

  (There’s a drawing of a bunch of crying stick figures in diapers)

  The trip is unavoidable, but I’ll be missing seeing you the whole time. I pinky promise I’ll be home soon.

  (Stick man with a less crudely drawn hand, pinky finger up.)

  Then… (doodle of a smiling stick boy giving flowers to a stick figure doll)

  Wait for me, will you?

  Yours, Always.

  P~

  Katniss presses the letter to her chest sighing. She’s waited a year to see her boy, she can spare a few days more for him to get mothered and smothered.

  What she has no ways of knowing, is that she’s wrong on assuming their reunion will happen any time soon.

  ————

The war springs up swiftly and treacherously without warning. Cannons are being fired all over Panem by a neighboring, rival country.

  Men between the ages of eighteen and thirty five are being drafted left and right indiscriminately. All three Mellark brothers get called upon to defend their country; all three brothers respond valiantly by taking arms and kissing their loved ones goodbye. But Peeta hasn’t seen Katniss yet. He can’t leave before seeing her one more time, so he runs to the Everdeen home with his heart in his throat.

  The sight that greets him simply kills him.

  A man, tall, dark, and handsome stands at the bottom of the porch steps with Katniss facing him in the first step, bringing their faces almost leveled.

  Peeta is too far away to hear what they say, but he sees just how pale Katniss looks.

  She’s scowling at the man, and for a moment, Peeta quickens his step to force the stranger away, sensing he’s somehow upsetting his best friend; but right as she makes an aggravated gesture with her hands and goes to walk away, the man reaches for her wrist, pulls her back to face him, and right as she opens her mouth to say something, he kisses her right on the lips.

  The man wraps his long, strong fingers around her waist and drags her body flushed with his.

  If Peeta had stayed two more seconds, he would’ve seen Katniss push the man away and yell at him indignantly with tears in her eyes; he would’ve seen her rushing inside her house.

  If Peeta had stayed one minute longer, and gone after her— even if to demand an explanation— she would had been over the moon to see his face again and she would’ve told him she loved him right then and there.

  If he had waited enough, Katniss would’ve wrapped her arms around his neck and kiss him instead.

  But Peeta didn’t stay; he flew from the scene broken-hearted and thinking the worst of Katniss.

  The two friends never got a chance to clear the misunderstanding before the ravages of war scarred them both for life.

————

The war wages on for almost three years before Panem gets the upper hand and crushes down its attackers. But the damage runs deep and wide. Everywhere there’s devastation and loss.

  A group of injured soldiers is brought into the Everdeen home— turn hospital— in stretches.

  “Miss Everdeen, please, we need help!” A man calls from the door while pulling in one soldier with a badly mangled leg into the makeshift triage area.

  Katniss isn’t one to help with bloody patients, she’s more of a fetcher for the women actually treating the hurt and sick, but everyone else is busy helping others— hurt soldiers come by the hoard every day— and so it falls on her to see to the new arrivals. Hopefully the blood shed will stop now that the last push to expel the enemy army from Panem soil has come and gone, but the devastation seems to linger, even though the war has ended.

  “Bring him here,” Katniss tells the man pointing to a spot where she’s pushing a bookshelf out of the way to make room.

  The man has trouble pulling the heavy soldier forth— a Sergeant judging by the insignias of his burnt uniform— but when he finally reaches Katniss’ side, she almost faints.

  “Prim!” Katniss yells at the top of her lungs. “Mama! Someone! Please…” she’s sobbing uncontrollably, while fussing over the wounded man.

  Prim, now sixteen, but with the wisdom of one that has seen many horrors, comes to help. She has been directing the influx of patients around by the severity of their injuries and yelling orders to helpers all around, but she comes to her sister as fast as she can, alerted she must’ve found someone they know.

  The man is caked in mud head to toe and unconscious, but Prim’s eyes widen as soon as she sees him, she grew up seeing his mop of blonde hair, she’s seen it covered in mud before.

  “It’s his leg!” Katniss cries out desperately. “He won’t wake up. I put a torniquete on his leg to stop the bleeding, but he’s cut up pretty badly.”

  Prim goes to work right away.

  “I need someone here right away!” Prim calls loudly above the hubbub, then turns to her patient, with a soothing voice. “Peeta? Can you hear me? Peeta, is Primrose, you’re home now and I’m going to look at your leg.” She brushes his stiff hair back, breaking pieces of dirt from his bangs.

  Peeta’s breathing harshly, and needs immediate medical attention. He moans softly, but otherwise stays unconscious.

  Katniss rushes away to grab bandages, suturing materials, an a fresh water basin. Her hands tremble something awful, but she’s on her knees next to Peeta in no time, trying to clean away the muck with careful swipes.  

  The more Prim prods, the deeper she frowns. Katniss whimpers every time a new bruise or a cut gets cleared of guck, and opts for keeping her eyes from Prim’s telltale face.

  “I need help here!” Prim calls again.

  “I’m here!” Says Madge Undersee, only daughter of former Mayor Undersee, and Katniss’ personal friend for the last three years. “Tell me what to do?” Says the young woman kindly.

  “Tear off his pants, I’m afraid we will have to amputate.”

  “No!” Katniss gasps, but as the fabric of his pant leg gets shredded away, it’s plainly clear something’s really wrong with his lower limb.

  Chunks of meat and muscle have been sliced and charred on the edges, the bones of his ankle are twisted the wrong way as well. There’s no way Prim can sew him back together.

  “Was it my torniquete?” Katniss sobs quietly.

  “Of course not, Katniss. This looks like a bayonet or some kind of shrapnel explosion. I’m afraid of cutting off the boot, but doubt the foot fared any better than the calf.”

  Katniss is going to vomit, but she can’t move away; she’s holding Peeta’s hand for dear life. Maybe he can feel her there, clinging to him, and he’d survive what’s to come alright.

——-

  Peeta comes to thirsty, hungry and in severe pain.

  His eyes bother him, but he’s warm and somewhere dry for the first time in weeks.

  He tries to sit up, but every end nerve of his body screams in protest, so he stays put.

  Someone gasps next to him. “You’re awake!”

  Soft hands caress his leathery cheeks and then the person starts calling out loudly, “He’s awake!”

  There’s a lot of sobbing, and out of nowhere people start crowding him. Everything is still blurry in his eyes, so at first he’s scared he’s somehow got imprisoned by the enemy. Then he hears something curious.

  “My son! My baby! He’s awake!” Sounds like his mother.

  Arms wrap around him, a body leans on his chest.

  “Thank heavens you’re alright!”

  More people talk encouraging nonsense. He can’t filter the words properly. Nothing makes sense, then he hears her choke back a sob.

  “Peeta! You’re awake!” He swears Katniss cool fingers entwined with this.

  It must be a trick of his mind. He can’t tell. His head is spinning. Suddenly, he’s out again.

——-

  The next time he wakes up it takes him a minute to get his bearings. He’s more alert this time around and promptly recognizes his own bedroom, which is strange, because he could’ve sworn he was some 50 miles away from his town, fighting off a raid.

  Again, he tries to sit up, but realizes he can’t move very fast.

  His left foot itches something awful though. He has an all consuming urge to scratch it, he’s almost in tears. He tries to fold his leg at the knee and bring the itchy foot closer to his hand.

  “Peeta! Stop!” There’s a gasp.

  He knows the voice and wonders why is she in his room?

  But his foot itches… so, bad!

  “Peeta, please! Stop!” She’s agitated, on top of him, trying to restrain him.

  He doesn’t want to look at her, but he can’t exactly stop his eyes from find her when she’s practically laying across his body, pushing him back into the mattress. Another time, this would’ve been a dream come true for him. But not now. She’s preventing him from instant gratification, and that’s one more reason to hate her.

  Katniss looks too pale, too thin, too gaunt. Her hair is shorter, or so he assumes since it’s gathered at her nape in a tight bun. Her eyes are sunken in and rimmed with red and dark circles around them. Her dress is a muted, faded gray, as far as he can tell she’s wearing a white apron over her chest.

  She could be a maid or a nurse rather. He doesn’t care, he wants her off of him so he can scratch his foot.

  “I just need to scratch my foot, goddamnit!”

  Katniss gasps at his rude language, but she’s too busy trying to keep him from reaching his god damned itch.

  “You can’t, you have to calm down first, and then we will talk… I’ll call your father in, just… give me a second!” She grunts blocking his arm with her shoulder.

  Finally, he pushes her away— because she’s tiny, barely a hundred and five pounds soaking wet, and he’s two hundred pounds of solid muscle— Peeta practically tosses her aside and brings his hand down his limbs.

  That’s when he discovers the awful truth… there’s no left foot; there’s no knee to bend; there’s no leg at all. Just a painful stump that ends right above where his knee used to be.

  He starts screaming.

  Katniss sobs trying to fold him into her arms, but he doesn’t want her. He wants his leg… his foot itches so damned much he can’t stand it.

———-

  “Go away.” He tells her the next time he opens his eyes.

  “I can’t, I’m your very own, personal nurse.” She tells him and tries to smile, but it falls flat and sad.

  “Go. The fuck. Away, Katniss! I’m not your charity case.” He yells at her.

  He can see the tears gathering in her eyes, but she plasters a fake smile on her face and fluffs his pillow, as if she didn’t hear him. “My mother will be by this afternoon to change your bandages. She says the scars are healing nicely.”

  “GO. THE. FUCK. AWAY!” He’s kicking and screaming and for all intents, foaming at the mouth.

  She tries to hold back her sobs, but she can’t; she tries to sooth him. She tries to sing to him, touch him.

  But he’s just so strong and angry, when she leans closer to plead with to calm down, he wraps his hand around her neck and pushes her back so hard, she lands on his old desk, breaking it with the force of the collision.

  Peeta’s parents burst into the room and try to diffuse the situation as best as they can, but Peeta is acts like a mad man, swearing and cursing awful, awful names at them, at Katniss, everyone really.

  She can’t breathe, she can’t see; her neck burns where his fingers squeezed her throat, there sure will be bruises soon. She’s unsteady on her feet, but stumbles back to him, because she knows he’s hurting, and she’s hurting too. He doesn’t know about her Papa, he wouldn’t be acting this way if he did.

  “Peeta, darling… it’ll be alright—“

  “GO AWAY, KATNISS! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU. YOU’RE A FAKE AND HATE YOU FOR IT!” He hurls spit at her, and luckily misses her by a foot.

  Katniss can’t take it anymore; so she runs out of the room, out of the Mellark’s house, and doesn’t stop running until she reaches her own home. She’ll apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Mellark for not listening to their pleads to stop, but she had to get out there. Peeta hates her, and she’s not equipped to that kind of rejection from the boy she hope to grow old with.

  ———

  Doctor Aurelius comes to town at the request of Healer Everdeen. He’s the best doctor in two counties and has helped many people, including her own ailing husband after the incident that almost killed him.

  The good doctor is a middle aged man with half moon spectacles, and a quiet demeanor. He seems smart and capable, but he has the annoying habit of humming while he works, and for some reason that aggravates Peeta.

  The doctor examines Peeta’s leg carefully for a few quiet moments. “I hear you were having some phantom aches and itches on your left foot.” Says the doctor lifting his eyes to Peeta’s. “Is this still true for you?”

  Peeta shrugs and looks away. “Not as bad as the first few weeks.” His voice sounds strange to his own ears. “But yesterday I couldn’t take myself out of bed, because my left slipper was missing. Objectively, I know I don’t need it, but I can’t bring myself to function until I see the pair, sitting at the foot of my bed. Somehow that seems like a more pressing concern, to me right now.”

  Doctor Aurelius takes notes without speaking for a moment, and then, stands up wiping his glasses with a kerchief. “It’s not unusual for an amputee to experience phantom cramps, itches and pain on their missing extremities. Our working hypothesis is, that the brain is not used to missing a piece of the body so suddenly, so it continues sending out pulses and orders that ultimately go nowhere. Then the brain tricks itself into feeling these sensations of pain, itch, etcetera. Hopefully, they’ll become less frequent with time.

  “Same wise, I would guess your mind is applying a similar preservation principle, in a visual level. Your mind demands to see the whole set of footwear ready to go, even if consciously you know it’s a waste. This correlations take time to sink in and adapt to the new reality.”

  “So that’s it? My brain is going to keep playing tricks on me until it catches up with the fact I’m a cripple now?” Peeta snaps. His father that has been sitting quietly on a corner of the room clears his throat as a reminder to his son to remember himself.

  “Mister Mellark, you’ve healed beautifully. Your caregivers did an amazing job containing the wounds and repairing as much as the damage to your muscles and cartilage as they could. And yes, you lost a limb, and of course the will be scarring for life, but given the severity of your injury, I can assure you, the Everdeen healers did you an even greater service than they could provide to their own kin, and you should be grateful for it.”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” Peeta asks a little apprehensive.

  Mr. Mellark shifts uncomfortably in his chair, but he’s the one to speak next. “Peeta, there was an accident about two weeks after the enemy’s surrendered. The office building Mr. Everdeen worked at, had been used as a military weapon and ammunition storage. Since the war was officially over, announced the would be rounding up their assets and moving them to a more secure location.”

  “Mr. Everdeen was overseeing the process when some black powder was accidentally ignited, and all hell broke loose. He managed to keep the exploding from reaching the barrels of powder and the cannonballs.”

  Peeta swallows. “Is Mister Everdeen… d-d—“

  Mr. Mellark shakes his head, “He’s alive, but he’s been paralyzed from the the waist down. He’ll be confined to bed or a wheelchair for the life.”

  Peeta shifts uncomfortable in his bed. His pajamas too stiff on his body. He frowns at his lap. “I’m sorry to hear that. Mr. Everdeen certainly doesn’t deserve such a fate.”

  “No, he does not. That’s why in my personal opinion you should count yourself fortunate, Mister Mellark. You’re a great candidate for a prosthesis. It will take some work to get use to it; you’ll have to train your body to relearn to walk, but I’m confident at the end of a few weeks, you’ll recovering your mobility. If it’s alright with you, I’ll have my colleague, Dr. Beetee Latier, pay you a visit in the next few days. He’ll have to take measurements and there would be a handful of fittings, but I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be walking with minimum aid in two months time.”

  Peeta looks at doctor, and gives a curt nod of assent. Walking with minimal aids is definitely more desirable than not walking at all.

  When the doctor is gone, Mr. Mellark approaches his son with barely disguised aggravation.

  “Son, I know losing your leg is a a rotten hand to be given in life. But we should all be grateful the odds were in your favor during the raid.”

  “How so?” He spits venomously. “None of this seems very lucky to me.” Peeta growls angrily.

  Mr. Mellark gives his son a stern glance, “Peeta, you may not see how fortunate you truly are, and you’re entitled to your ire, but you’re one of only three man in your unit to survive the war, and make it home to your family. Other young fellows weren’t quite so lucky. You shouldn’t take your life for granted, and really shouldn’t take your anger out on people who loves you.”

  Great! Now Peeta feels guilty for not dying that day, and he’s got a sneaky suspicion his father was talking about Katniss right before leaving him alone in his bedroom.

  ———

  Panem heals slowly but surely. Everyone is eager to leave the war behind and rebuild what was lost; weddings spring everywhere, and pregnancies start being announced soon after. No family goes without celebrating one.

  The eldest Mellark brother weds his pre-war Sweetheart, Delly Cartwright, immediately upon his return home. The second brother takes a few months but then he too, marries a girl, Leevy, that although not wealthy, has his whole heart in her hands. The whole town is in assistance, including the Everdeens. Peeta sulks in a corner the whole time trying to avoid everyone as much as he can.

  He’s been fitted for his fake leg, and moves alright with a walking stick, but he swears people look at him with pity and he hates it.

  Then he sees Katniss in the crowd, her demeanor removed and stoic. She looks nothing like she did when they were children. She’s so beautiful though… it hurts his chest to look at her, being so far away, but that only last until the same man he saw kissing her the day he was deployed approaches her with a drink in hand and she takes it, gifting the man a small, grateful smile.

  The man says something, and she laughs, shaking her head ruefully, then he offers her his arm, and she takes it without hesitation, walking towards a group of people Peeta has no interest on figuring out their identities. His stomach churns too unpleasantly, his blood boils in his veins.

  He can’t believe they have the audacity to show up together to his home, where he can see them and flaunt their relationship on his face. He hates that man, whoever he is. The jealousy sours the day for him, so he tries to avoid the whole party altogether.

  Tries, being the keyword.

  “Hello, Peeta.” Says Primrose Everdeen smiling sweetly at him. She looks lovely, long blond hair braided down her back just like her sister did before the war. Her blue eyes are kind, but older than a seventeen year old should. “It’s so nice to see you!”

  Peeta nods. “Hello, Prim.” They stand there staring at each other. “It was nice seeing you too. Enjoy the party.” He starts turning to go, but Prim pounces forward cutting off his escape.

  “Have you said hello to Katniss yet? I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

  “Uh. I don’t think so. Now, if you excuse me.”

  He tries to go around the girl, but the blonde is persistent.

  “You should come with me and sit for a spell. I heard you made the cake yourself. It looks delicious, I would love a piece served directly by the baker himself…” her smile is too wide, but her eyes aren’t crinkled at the corners. “I bet my sister will die of envy when sees I’m having dessert already!”

  Peeta gives the girl an awkward smile. “I’ll take a rain check. You go enjoy the party, you hear?”

  Primrose lets all pretenses fall and goes for the kill.

  “You’re being stubborn, Peeta Mellark! We miss you! We want to see you and be around you.”

  “And you are a nosy little pest, Primrose Everdeen!”

  Peeta’s outburst is so loud the whole party screeches to a halt and everyone turns to stare at him and the healer girl.

  Prim’s face harden. “I saved your life you know.” Says Prim lowly. It may be petty and childish, but he doesn’t get to insult her just because he’s being stupid.

  When the incident doesn’t intensify, people lose interest and look away.

  “Well, thanks for nothing! You should’ve let me die. Now move out of my way—“

  “Hey! Don’t you dare talk to my sister that way!”

  Peeta stiffens for a second, but storms past the Everdeen sisters like a hurricane all the same. Katniss follows hot on his heel, angry, hurt and ready for a fight.

  “What makes you think it’s alright to be so rude and nasty to people who are only trying to help you, care for you?”

  “Care for me?!” Peeta wheels around. “You are piece of work, saying that to me right now!”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Katniss demanded in outrage.

  “Katniss, I know, alright? I saw you. Stop lying, it’s unbecoming. I would’ve thought all that expensive education would’ve taught you cheating is a foul, amoral thing, and that’s even before I was a disfigured, cripple! Maybe Miss Trinket lost her time with you, two timing Jezebel!”

  Slap!

  The sound of an open palm colliding with flesh freezes time and sound in the hallway Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen stand staring at each other perplexed by his scathing words and her retaliation.

  Katniss’ chest heaves harshly with every ragged breath she takes. “I don’t have the faintest idea of where you come off saying such awful things, Peeta Mellark. I have never been more insulted in my life, but I see now you’re not the best friend I’ve been missing all this time. You may have lost a leg, but that’s not what makes you a cripple, Peeta. You’re—you’re, a monster. A mutt. The boy I grew up with never came home, all that is left is a bitter, twisted version of him.”

  Katniss stomps past her former best friend, slamming into his side with her shoulder for good measure.

  Peeta just swivels with the friction, laughing mirthlessly. “Look who’s talking! But I guess you’re right, that naive, lovesick boy you duped is gone, honey! Welcome to the new Panem, where childhood memories come to die!” He opens his arms in a grand gesture, but she flies down the corridor back to her folks to beg them to go home.

  “Peeta! Why is Katniss rushing out of your    B brothers’ reception in tears? What did you do this time?” Demands Mrs. Everdeen closely followed by her husband.

  “All I did was tell her the truth. I cannot be held responsible by her guilty conscience reaction.”

  Mrs Mellark looks at her son with suspicion. “Guilty conscience? Of what exactly?”

  “I saw her kissing another man, mother! That fellow wearing the 2nd Battalion of Panem uniform. Did he hear the war ended already?”

  “Gale Hawthorne?” His Mother makes a dismayed sigh.

  “When did you see this kiss happening, son? And please do not speak so loudly. People will hear. Command Major Hawthorne has an impeccable reputation, and this is a severe accusation to a married man.”

  “Married?” Now Peeta feels the world has gone topsy turvy. “I— no, he kissed Katniss the day I got my orders to join the front. I went to say goodbye to the Everdeens, that man was there, he kissed her right in front of her house.”

  “Oh, Peeta…” His Mother laments, “You’ve gone all this time thinking the worst of your very best friend, and you never talked to her about it? He may have stolen a kiss before going to war. I’m sure you would’ve done the same given the chance, but she never showed interest in him that way.”

  “Hawthorne is that neighbor boy she used to hunt with. How do you know she wasn’t in some… affair with the fellow?” Peeta grumbles not ready to concede.

  “Command Major Hawthorne was stationed just outside town the last seven months of the war. He met former miss Undersee. She’s Katniss only friend besides Primrose. Mister Hawthorne and miss Undersee fell madly in love and eloped a few days after you were found and brought to the Everdeens. Katniss is their first child’s godmother, which was born not two weeks ago. We didn’t raise you to make assumptions based on half perceptions.” Says Mrs Mellark sadly.

  “Son,” Says Mr. Mellark cautiously, “I think you owe Katniss an apology. Maybe an explanation as well? You too need to patch things up between yourselves. Katniss’ folks and us have done everything in our power to brought you two up close; everything we’ve ever done is so you too would have the best possible relationship as grown ups. It is important you both get over this terrible enmity and put it behind you.”

  Peeta’s lips thin into a line. “What’s the use? She thinks I’m a angry monster. A mutt. And I think she may be right after all.” He turns away from his parents and makes a beeline to his rooms, tired of pretending he was something he was not.

  “She’s a survivor, that one,” Says mrs Mellark, stopping her son in his tracks. “She single handedly fed our entire town when food had to be rationed to send supplies to the troops. Thanks to her instincts you’re here, you know. It is my understanding she stopped your hemorrhage when you were first brought wounded to her mother’s care. She’s been doing odd works around town to help support her family since her father can’t work anymore,

  “She’s never done anything other than help anyway she can. She worries about you. You would do well to figure out how to get along with her. She’s an honorable young lady, you should feel lucky she’s your… your…“

  “Best friend,” supplies Mr. Mellark dubiously.

  Peeta just shakes his head, and goes to his room, clomping his walking stick with each step.

  The next year and a half, both the Mellarks and the Everdeens try to bring the former friends back together, but egos where hurt, guilt was mishandled, self loathing clouded some thoughts and trauma kept the spirits low. Neither Peeta or Katniss were willing to take the first step towards reconciliation, so nothing was solved, and resentment just festered untreated.

————

  The day after Peeta’s twenty third birthday, the Mellarks dress in their best fineries, have a frugal lunch and practically hogtie Peeta into his Sunday suit and on to the family carriage. His parents won’t tell him where they’re going or why are they dressed so fancy.

  They travel some thirty miles outside town, through some well kept dirt roads and rolling hills of green grass. Summer isn’t quite gone yet, but air is starting to get nippy, specially riding on the driver bench of the cart.

  The family arrives to a grand Victorian type house, sitting smack in the middle of a beautiful valley with rose bushes in every possible color lining the property in every direction. Behind the main house sits the biggest greenhouse Peeta has ever seen, an structure made of glass and wrought iron. The place has to be splendid during the spring months, when the air is warm.

  “What is this place?” Peeta asks curiously.

  “It’s the home of my great grandfather Snow.” Says mrs Mellark with an uncomfortable sniff.

  Peeta’s heard of the man before, nothing terribly good. The man is an eccentric, patronizing old man with a god complex and a disturbing sense of humor. A total bastard, that as far as Peeta knows, takes pleasure on holding his family’s inheritances over their heads by bullying them into doing his bidding. Peeta’s surprised the old coot is still alive.

  More surprising for Peeta, is to find his brothers and their wives there as well, looking as confused and nervous as he is.

  “What are we here for, you reckon?” Asks the middle brother his blue eyes fixed on the terracotta tiled veranda with its floating fern baskets hanging from the ceiling every few feet.

  “No idea,” mutters the other brother. The two then look at Peeta. “You rode here with mother and father,” he posits arching an eyebrow.

  “I’m as clueless as you are.” He answers aggravated.

  “We’re here because Peeta is finally twenty three. We are finally ready for the announcement that will secure our entire family’s fortune for the future.” Says Peeta’s mother uneasily.

  “What? What do you mean?” Peeta asks anxiously. “This sounds like a scheme, a mockery I was too insignificant to clue in.”

  “I’m sorry, son. We are not allowed to say anything until we’re all here for the announcement.”

  “Father?” He appeals to his old man, but even his father declines with a sad shake of his head.

  “We stand to lose everything, Peeta. Then where will we be? No roof, no bakery, no income to support us all. Your Grandfather will clear things up soon enough. I just hope we prepared you enough for this day.”

  “Well, that sounds ominous enough. Anything else?”

  “Uh… Peet, I guess maybe that will make things more fun?” Says his middle brother pointing at the horse drawn carriage gaining speed in the distance.

  Everyone recognize the Everdeen crest and the black stallions pulling the cart.

  “What are they doing here?” Peeta grumbles moodily.

  “Remember I said all of our family is being affected by tonight’s events?” Mrs. Mellark reminds him. “Mrs. Everdeen is my second cousin, Grandfather Snow, is her great Grandfather as well.”

  “Well, I do not want to be responsible for their fortune or misfortune. I want no part in this—“

  “You keep your mouth nice and civil, you hear me?” Peeta’s taken aback, his father has never spoken to anyone in such a tone before, cutting and firm with no room for protesting. “While we are in front of great Grandfather Snow, you will treat Katniss like she’s the most important person in the world to you, and you will be decent to her for once. I’m sick and tired of your disrespectful jabs and uncalled for hostility. Tonight it’s imperative Grandfather Snow sees a united front, otherwise, both our families are doomed. Do you understand?”

  “Of course. I’ll… try my best—“

  “Don’t try! Be better.”

  By the time Mr. Mellark stops talking, the Everdeens have entered the property, and their horses are coming to a halt next to the Mellark’s fuel propelled carriage.

  The mothers embrace in the middle of the veranda, exchange a few hushed words, eyes flitting between Katniss and Peeta as they speak rapidly. Katniss scowl is as deep as Peeta’s frustration. They’re about to protest the whole thing, when the door of the house opens wide, and out comes a man with a peculiarly groomed beard.

  “Ah! Right on time! Excellent!” Says the man clapping his hands once before opening his arms in welcome. “Cousins, It’s been a long time since we’ve been all together. Both of you look as lovely as always.”

  “Seneca,” Says first mrs. Everdeen and the man comes to kiss her twice, once on each cheek.

  He does the same with Mrs. Mellark, but then turns to Prim and Katniss, and gives them a salacious wink. Peeta hasn’t spoken to either Katniss or Prim since he blew up at his brothers’ wedding less than two years earlier, but he still feels protective of the girls, so he steps between the man and the girls, deliberately making himself look bigger than he is to shield his former friends.

  “You may be my mother’s cousin, but we have not been officially introduced to you, sir,” Says Peeta  smoothly, presenting his hand jovially. “I’m Peeta, youngest Mellark son.”

  The man grins as if pleased with the young man. “Seneca Crane. I am Grandfather Snow’s direct grandchild, and also his legal counsel. It is a joy to finally meet my cousins beloved children.” Seneca shakes everyone’s hands, and stays perfectly gentlemanly when greeting the ladies. A moment later, he invites everyone inside. “Come, please, Grandfather is waiting!”

  Inside, the house is enormous and richly decorated. The furnishings solid oaks and mahogany, the carpets and rugs thick and fluffy under their feet, the crystal chandeliers in every room so ornate the whole place is one step shy of gaudy.

  They follow Seneca who prattles on and on about inconsequential little things such as the price of herbicides, or the fact that he’s been putting back looking for a curator for Grandfather’s art collection, because he’s so lazy.

  A few minutes later, they come to a set of double doors. Seneca looks over his shoulder with snide smirk, then he pushes the doors open.

  The first thing Katniss registers, is the pungent smell of roses that seems to be coming from the very walls of the room, but then she notices the dozens upon dozens of pink, red and white flowers standing in tall vases proudly all over the place.

  It’s not a sitting room or a parlor like most hosts would bring guests to entertain them. The room is in fact a very big office, with floor to ceiling bookshelves packed with books, small decorative tokens, and even pictures of various familiar faces including Everdeens and Mellarks.

  There’s a desk as big as dining table in the middle of the room, and a frail looking, old man, with hair as white and thin as floss, sitting in a big wing chair behind the desk.

  “So the day has come at last, and my house welcomes all of you and your families once more.” Says the old man without looking up from a document he’s reading on his desk. “Let’s have supper first, then, we will discuss what have brought us all here today.”

  The whole party shuffles to an even grander dining room, with scrumptious food on the table and beautiful desserts to end the meal. Everyone tries to enjoy the diner, but tension is think in the air.

  “Very well family,” Says Grandfather Snow once he’s done eating his pudding. “Seneca has drawn contracts for everyone to sign. The deeds to your houses, the bakery, Miss Primrose’s education and Emmett Everdeen’s medical expenses will be put into trusts until after the consummation of the vows and then, you will all have hefty bank accounts all on your names.”

  Everyone is confused by his words… everyone except for the parents that is.

  “Excuse me, I don’t understand.” Says Peeta just as Seneca Crane presents him with a piece of paper, he can only assume is the contract the old man is talking about. “My mother said that today I would find out how I was responsible for everyone’s well being, but you mentioned consumption of vows? What’s does that mean, Grandfather?” He asks as respectfully as he can. He senses this old man is not to be trifled with.

  “Oh! Of course. What am I thinking?” The old man laughs a wheezy sound, and then turns his black  beady eyes to the young man. “Why I forgot congratulations are in order, my boy!”

  “Congratulations?” Asks one brother under his breath.

  “Um, thank you?” Answers Peeta uneasily. “Just… uh—“

  “Katniss, dear! You are now twenty two years old, am I right?” Asks the old man cutting Peeta off.

  “Yes, Grandfather. I will be twenty three in May.”

  “Good! And you have done well, even with your father’s unfortunate accident.” He observes. “Where is the fellow by the way? And excuse me for not asking after him sooner.”

  “My husband is at home, with a friend.” Says Mrs. Everdeen solicitously.

  Grandfather Snow nods. “Will he be able to sign his portion of the contract?” He asks rather callously.

  “Yes, Grandfather. He just can’t travel in his condition.”

  “I see.” Says the man, and Katniss is reminded of a snake ready to pounce looking into the old man’s face. “Will he attend the wedding?”

  “Wedding?” Peeta asks in alarm. “What wedding?”

  Snow turns to Peeta once more. His smile gives everyone chills. “Why, Katniss’ of course.”

  Katniss gasps in shock. Her eyes wide as saucers look to her mother pleadingly. She tries to ask so many questions, but her voice has left her, and she feels like a fish struggling for oxygen.

  “There’s been a mistake,” Says Prim from her place meekly, “my sister isn’t engaged. She not even being courted by anyone.”

  “Oh but she has been.” Says Seneca Crane ruffling through his papers, as soon as he sits down after presenting everyone with their own copies of their contracts. “She’s been engaged pretty much since birth, and her courtship has been the longest one in history… at least in my opinion.” The man gives an effeminate laugh, making everyone sink into their chairs. Their minds connecting dots and coming to conclusions as the minutes tick by.

  Peeta is besides himself angry. He stands up from the table abruptly and storms out of the dining room.

  Katniss excuses herself and him, and runs after to catch up. “Peeta! Wait!” She calls desperately. “We need to talk about this.”

  “No! We don’t! Leave me alone.”

  “I can’t! This about the two of us, not just you.”

  “If you’re alright with this… travesty, then be my guest. You’re on your own and you truly aren’t the person I once knew. The Katniss I knew growing up would’ve taken offense at this disrespectful show, she would rebel against it, not roll on her back and take it like a good little bumpkin with no brains in her head.

  “I for one can’t accept this, even less if you’re just complying so easily. You have no spine, no self worth, you make me sick!” He finally turns around to throw her a killing glare but the sight of her, dowthrothen and beaten makes his heart ache.

  She looks at him stoically. Tears swelling her eyes, that she refuses to let fall. “I don’t care what you think of me. You can say whatever you want, but both you and I know we can’t afford pissing off grandfather Snow. Your family would lose the bakery in case you didn’t read your contract. My father will most likely die, because I won’t be able to pay for his treatments and medicines. Prim will lose any chance of getting a dowry. Your brothers and their families won’t have a place to live in, Peeta.

  “I know marrying me is got to be about the most repulsive thing in the world to you right now, and believe me, after hearing just how lowly you think of me, I’m not exactly thrilled either. But my family’s future depends on this sham of marriage. I don’t know why this awful man picked us for this mockery of a life, but I won’t be responsible for letting any of them down. If you are alright with sinking your family and yourself in a hole so deep there’s no coming out, that’s on you, and you are the spineless, brainless one. Not me.”

  She turns around and walks stiffly back into the house, leaving Peeta to stand alone in the veranda.

  Peeta sits there for a few more minutes, thinking about everything Katniss has said, wondering what his family’s fate would be, getting angry at his parents deception, and then going back to feel hopeless. But Katniss is right, it would be selfish of him to refuse the contract when innocent people, like his nephews who are but babes, could be left without a roof over their heads. He shivers to think the fate that would befall Mr. Everdeen, a man he’s always admired until today, when he learned his part in the unfair deal.

  He goes back inside with a heavy heart, to see everyone putting on coats and cloaks, getting ready for the long road ahead before the last rays of sunshine are gone.

  Nobody looks at him, nobody talks to him, except Primrose, who gives him a cold glare, while rubbing a soothing hand over her Mother’s back as she sobs uncontrollably.

  Peeta marches on, and stands next to Katniss.

  She scans his face for a moment; when he sticks his elbow out to her, she takes it wordlessly.

  They will go into this as one. A front united.

  They take a few stoic steps towards Seneca Crane. “Excuse us, Cousin Seneca, if Grandfather’s generous deal is still on the table, we will like to accept the terms of the contract.”

  “Excellent, young lad!” Exclaims Seneca boisterously, “follow me everyone, and… do not worry about returning home tonight. You are all guests of Grandfather Snow until visibility allows safe travels.”

  —————

  Katniss and Peeta are only given two weeks to plan their wedding and marry, and just because the bride and groom to be decided to go through with the arrangement, didn’t mean they had forgiven each other from the awfulness of the past few years.

  They are stiff and chilly towards each other during visits to the florists, the musicians, the clothiers, and even the stationer they commissioned invitations from. But there are flashes of kindness between the two at times.

  For example, Peeta asks Katniss is they should go chocolate cake, since it’s her favorite, or if they should let Prim choose, so she feels included in the wedding preparations. He’s already paid the butcher for his best lamb, and ordered plums from the grocer, for Katniss’ favorite dish of lamb and plum stew.

  And there’s the moment at the florists, when Katniss adamantly argues that orange flowers are not just acceptable for wedding decor, but cheery and full of hope. Same goes for the their visit with the clothier, Miss Portia and her brother Mr. Cinna show them a variety of white laces and ribbons for sashes, yet she spots the soft orange velvet hidden in a corner, and decides Peeta’s vest should be made out of it, and she and Primrose will wear matching sashes with their dresses. She doesn’t mention she chose the hue, because it’s Peeta’s favorite color.

  Then the gossip and whispers pick up. Their town is small and sleepy for the most part, but everyone knows about the rift between the two former friends, and none of the stories floating around are very kind to the couple, particularly Katniss, who gets severely and unfairly judged by every woman in town. So Peeta comes to escort the Everdeen women to the small chapel in the square, and asks to speak at the end of the service.

  He delivers a beautifully worded— if deceivingly scalding— speech about the virtuous of his future wife, and how they had been given a second chance at a future they thought gone, that restores both their good names in one fifteen minute long statement.

  But not everyone was fooled into seeing a pair of starcrossed lovers reclaiming their fairytale romance.

  Professor Abernathy watches Peeta walk into the local pub with his brothers the day before the wedding. He’s not in a celebratory mood, but his brothers seem elated that their families futures are secure, and they have a misguided assumption that Peeta and Katniss’ relationship will heal sooner rather than later; after all, they used to love each other as children.

  Commander Hawthorne is there too, and he feels the need to congratulate the groom of his son’s godmother.

  “Sergeant Mellark!” Calls Gale Hawthorne reaching the trio of broad shouldered Mellarks. All three blonde heads turn to him at the same time.

  “That would be me,” Says Peeta frowning. “But I retired, Command Sergeant, sir.” Says Peeta saluting his military superior.

  “At ease. I’m here to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials. You may not know me, but I used to be your bride’s neighbor.” Says Gale impassively.

  “I know who you are alright.” Says Peeta glaring. He takes a long swig of his ale, hoping the man would go away.

  “Same wise, Sergeant. Catnip talks about you constantly. It was quite annoying at times honestly. She always held a candle out for you, sir.”

  Peeta slams his beer mug on the table top, causing his two brothers who had been conversing between themselves to turn back to the newcomer.

  “Then pray tell, Sir, why did you kiss my sweetheart if you knew she was waiting for me?”

  A shadow passes over Gale’s face, bringing a mighty scowl that could rival Katniss’.

  Sensing trouble, Professor Abernathy drinks a tumbler full of white liquor in one gulp without flinching, and steps between the man deliberately.

  “Command Sergeant, nice of you to come buy us all a glass of whiskey, but I’ll tell you what, son, it’s time for Mister Mellark here to go back home for a regenerative beauty sleep. After all it won’t do to have the groom look all rumpled and tired.” Abernathy makes a dismissive gesture to the man who only glowers for moment but walks away at the end.

  “Come up, Boy, I wasn’t kidding, I’m gonna walk you home. Your brothers can stay, though.” He says throwing them a glare that says they should obey. “Come on, I have my own harpy to go home too, you know?”

  Peeta walks out of the pub more reluctantly than he was to go in.

  Abernathy pounces on him right away. “Boy, you and Sweetheart have got to warm up before the show tomorrow. Nobody wants to see two people go hate each other kiss. It’s just wrong and cringeworthy, much like your performances of late.”

  “Well, in case you don’t know, Katniss and I aren’t exactly the same awestruck children we used to be.”

  “No, you are most definitely not. Those kids were cute and lovely. You gave me tooth decay you were so sweet. Now, you just make me wince in pain.” Abernathy takes a look at Peeta with those sharp gray eyes of his. “So, you broke the girl’s heart, but I didn’t know why until just now. You think Hawthorne overstepped some claim line you had on the girl, and then you decided to treat her and the rest of the world like shit.”

  Peeta glances back at his old mentor. “She hasn’t been very nice either.”

  “Boy, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say she has no clue what is it she did wrong to earn your scorn. I’d be defensive too.” He stays quiet while Peeta ponders. “Look, Hawthorne was out of line, but so were you, and still you haven’t done crap to fix it. Hawthorne at least did something to redeem himself enough, now Sweetheart is his spawn’s godmother. What have you done to gain at least her friendship back?”

  “I hate that Hawthorne!” Peeta grunts. “And He has the gall to call her a nickname in front of me? Where does he get off?”

  “Ah!” Says Abernathy, “Jealousy is still Well and alive I see. You should go with that. That my old lady would disapprove of this advice, but I say, you need to get in your wives good graces, before you get in your wife, if you catch my meaning.”

  Peeta balks at the man, but Abernathy is not a salacious man, he actually looks a bit green in the face.

  “I doubt Katniss and I will go that far at all, at least not now. As you said, we’re not even friends.”

  “Boy, a men has needs, and when sharing a bed with the warm body of his wife… well, it’s hard to stay away. I say this with much regret.” The man looks up. “Well, here we are. I’ve done my part. Now you go do yours. Fix it!”

  “What?” Peeta has been so absorbed in the conversation he didn’t realized they were already home, except it’s not his home. It’s Katniss’ home. “Wait!”

  But Abernathy is knocking loudly, and quick steps approach the door.

  “No! Why did you— no!”

  The door opens, Katniss herself stands at the other side scowling suspiciously at the two men.

  “Sweetheart, your man’s home! You’re welcome!” He says to her pointing at her nose with his index fingers. He points a lot Peeta next, “Fix it!”

  He then turns around and walks home with his hands into his trousers pockets, whistling a catchy jaunty.

  “Can you believe that walking mess convinced miss Trinket to marry him?” Says Peeta staring at the man’s back.

  “Mmm… war will do that to people, but really, I can’t speak too much about women’s dubious choice in spouse.” She says coldly.

  Peeta sighs deeply. “I guess not.” He agrees. “Can I possibly come in?”

  “It’s almost nine. I should be in bed as it is, not to mention how inappropriate talking to you without a chaperone is.”

  Peeta chuckles. “Now you want a chaperone? You used to hate having one.”

  Katniss rolls her eyes, making his heart stutter. “Come in. I can’t have the gossip mill start up again the night before the wedding.”

  “Look, Katniss, we need to at least go into this marriage as friends. So I’ve been thinking, that if I stop being so… wounded, we may have a chance after all.”

  “You know I’m rubbish at making friends.”

  “Yes, but you see, we have an advantage here, we already know everything about each other. We have a childhood in common, and we know the big stuff.”

  “Then what else can we talk about if we know the big stuff? Favorite colors? We know that too.”

  Peeta shakes his head at her rueful smirk. He smiles too, a real one for the first time in months. “I have a confession to make.” He says. “I saw Hawthorn kissing you five years ago.”

  Katniss cocks her head sideways. A plethora of emotions wash over her face before settling on a angry scowl.

  “You’ve put me through hell, because you saw a desperate, confused boy, force a kiss on me, on a highly emotional day, and you never deign to come talk to me about until now?”

  Peeta can see the fire and steam coming out of her ears and nostrils. The only thing he can do is brace for it.

  “You mean to tell me, Peeta Mellark, all this hateful talk, all this nasty behavior, the awful insults, the finger prints around my neck… I had those for almost a month! All that, you mean to tell me, was just because of a stolen kiss I didn’t even enjoy?”

  The first punch doesn’t hurt physically, as it does emotionally. Then comes another dozen punches and kicks to his chest and right leg, because she’s still aware of his prosthesis, but she’s angry at him.

  “You ass, Peeta Mellark! You broke my heart and I had no idea what I did wrong! You’re an idiot!” She punches and scratches, and he doesn’t move one inch, taking all of her rage and letting her release all the pent up anger, sadness, and fear she’s been carrying around for the past half decade.

  Primrose and Mrs Everdeen are in the room, neither Peeta nor Katniss knows when they arrived, but they just stand there there watching Katniss pummel her tiny fists against Peeta’s hard chest, and when she starts crying so much, snot drips from her nose, Peeta finally takes her into his arms, and squeezes her tightly to him.

  “I’m so sorry, Kitty. You’re right, I have been a complete idiot. You didn’t deserve any of the things I’ve said and done. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll try to be a better friend to you now. Please.”

  Katniss lands another hit to his ribs, it still doesn’t hurt though, so he decides to teach her how to throw a decent punch for the future.

  Mrs Everdeen brings Prim upstairs, giving the couple privacy. Katniss gets a headache from crying so much, and promptly falls asleep in his warm arms.

  The night is so bizarre, but Peeta feels hope stir in his chest for the first time in ages.

———-

  The wedding is short, simple and lovely. The reception is a true celebration, with food, music, and laughter. The cake is Peeta’s best work yet, delicious and fluffy, but the outside makes it hard to cut into it, so beautiful and intricate. A hundred Katniss blooms made of sugar, covering three tiers of pure, decadent chocolate… and buttercream vanilla filling, because that’s what Prim wanted.

  The bride and groom share a couple shy glances, but there’s still a layer of frost on their interactions.

  Mr Everdeen, rolls in his wheelchair to Peeta’s side. “May I have a word?” He asks in a somewhat delayed speech.

  “Of course,” Says Peeta solicitously, moving them both to a more secluded corner.

  “Son,” the man starts, “I’m sorry we didn’t protect either of you two from your Grandfather’s suck games. I heard you tried to stand up to him.”

  Peeta shakes his head. “Not really. I just stood and left everyone in that room to fall in despair. It was Katniss who made it plain for me to see I was being selfish. I just wished I could show Snow that I’m still me, even now. Not a piece in his games. That me and Katniss would e ended up here anyway without his meddling. I just don’t know how to do that.”

  “But that’s the easy part, Peeta! Just love each other, bring each up. Be nice, and attentive to one another. Don’t allow fear and guilt take more out of you two than it’s already done. Trust each and forgive yourselves. Things will get better. I know they will. We tried to rise you seeing good, loving families; happy, strong marriages. We hoped that you would see and model… I wish we could’ve had let you know what was ahead. But the war threw a wrench in the mix. But you’re now married, it’s up to you how you live that marriage. I have faith you two will find your happy medium and grew back together, I to the loving teens you used to be.”

  Peeta is grateful for his father-in-laws words, so he hugs him and goes on to look for his wife, he owes her a wedding dance.

  ————-

  Katniss and Peeta bow out of the party quietly.

  Peeta breathes deeply, “Um, I have a gift for you.” He tells his new bride shyly.

  “You didn’t have to,” She says gratefully, unwrapping the pack he sits on her lap. He says nothing, only watching her nervously. “What is this?” She asks holding a beautifully bound book in soft burgundy silk over hard cover.

  Still, he won’t say anything, so she turns the book over, right side up, and gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “Peeta… how is this possible?” Her eyes are filled with tears when she finally looks up from the gold engraved title of the book:

  The Mockingjay and the Willow Tree, and Other Bedtime Stories.

By K.P. Everlark

  Her breath hitches.

  He speaks anxiously, “I actually had it rebound years ago, hoping it would be an engagement present. I had this stupid little dream, that one day we would read it to our own babies together, but for a while there, that dream was dead and buried… it doesn’t matter now. The dream, or whatever… I want you to know I don’t expect you to bore me children if you don’t trust me or want to. I—“

  She throws her arms around his neck, surprising him. “It’s perfect!” She whispers I to his shoulder. “Our children will love it!”

  “So you like it?” He asks hopeful.

  “I do! Very much!”

  The newlyweds get ambushed by Seneca Crane. The man presents the two with a set of keys to a grand hotel in the town.

  “Wedding night gift!” He says wiggling his eyebrows unnervingly. “From Grandfather. He asked me to deliver this as well.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Mellark and Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen rush to their children, to see what other twisted requirement Snow is throwing at them.

  Katniss eyes grow wide as she reads the document. “What is this?” She passes the paper to Peeta, who struggles to keep his eyes on the words, instead of glaring daggers at Seneca.

  “What?!” He screeches. “Absolutely not! Find another way, but I’m not having sex to my wife for the first ever with some creep audience in the room. I’m sorry, but I’m putting my foot down on this. Enough is enough!” He says indignantly.

  Katniss looks at Peeta with barely hidden admiration.

  The parents are disgusted on all levels, but they don’t intervene either.

  “Very well, we are prepared to negotiate in the case you refused to go with the stipulation in section B of paragraph five.”

  Katniss leafs through the contract, Seneca hands her, and scowls. “That only covers the manner in which it’s confirmed or verified that the marriage has been consummated. It does not say anything about when or if, it should happen at all. What if we are not ready to do that!”

  “Oh, the consummation of the vows is non negotiable. It has to happen before dawn on your wedding night. Tonight. Otherwise, the rest of the contract is void and you all forfeit your Inheritance. I will give you both five minutes to discuss, and then I’m only authorized to speak to the husband about the manner in which we are proceeding from here on out.”

  Peeta and Katniss share an uncomfortable glance. “We will be fine.” Peeta says smiling. “If you leave it in my hands, I’ll take of it. You go ahead and go to the hotel. No sense letting it go to waste.”

  Katniss nods. “I trust you, Peeta.”

  “Promise? After everything you still trust me?”

  Katniss presents her pinky finger. “We have to start somewhere. Why not now?”

  He links his pinky with hers.

  Peeta comes into the room quietly, dejected. Not even enjoying the beauty of the place.

  Katniss is already in bed in a thin sleep gown that leaves little to the imagination and no undergarments to tangle with. She pulls the sheets all the way up to her chin, feeling her heart stutter in her chest. Somehow she wants to feign sleep, but one look at his face, and she knows there’s no use.

  Peeta disrobes quietly, he blows out a candle and lower the flame of the oil lamp on her side of the bed. He’s down to his under trousers when he moves to the bed. He lingers at the foot for a second, but moves back to Katniss’ side instead of his. He sits at the very edge of the mattress with his lap covered by the corner of the heavy quilt, he sheds the last piece of clothing he wears, letting it fall carelessly to the floor

  Katniss tenses, but peels back the covers enough for him to climb in bed. She puts up no resistance when he maneuvers to hover on top of her body. Carefully, he inches his right knee between both of hers to support his weight; the bottom of her gown rides up her thighs making her all too aware of their situation. A moment later Peeta brings the other knee between her thighs as well and hisses in pain, wincing.

  “Peeta, take off the prosthesis. You’ll be more comfortable without it. I can help with it.”

  “No,” whispers stubbornly. “I don’t want you to have to fuck a cripple man.” He gasps in pain. “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

  Her fingers caress his face gently. “Oh, Peeta, I don’t think of you as a cripple, but I’ve already seen you without your leg.” She blushes, “I’ve seen all of you, to be honest.”

  Peeta frowns, but let’s his left leg fall to the mattress. “You’ve seen me naked?” He asks rising one eyebrow.

  Her blush deepens. She nods. “I had to. I was your nurse for about week and half. I gave you daily sponge baths, you know.”

  “Well, if that doesn’t kill the mood, then I don’t know what would.”

  “Don’t think of it that way. I’m not trying to emasculate you. I thought you knew. Besides… your equipment seemed to be in top notch working condition every time I had to handle it. You even mumbled my name a couple of times… it made me feel… wanted.” She says hiding her face into his chest.

  “You touched me in my sleep? And you… enjoyed it? I feel so violated!” He chuckles at her embarrassment. He gently pushes apart her thighs with his right knee, she widens the space willingly, and he sits sideways to undo the fastenings of his fake leg.

  With her help, they have it off in a moment, after which he just stares at her scantily short nightgown. He’s momentarily dumbstruck.

  “You looked beautiful in your wedding clothes.” He stutters.

  “But you like this outfit better?” She smirks with a burning blush.

  His eyes caress her form and then his hands slide up her thighs slowly, uncovering her skin inch by inch. She moves her arms straight above her head, to aid him in removing the gown completely.

  He swallows audibly, his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I think I like no outfit way better, no offense to Miss Portia and Mr. Cinna.”

  Katniss does something she hasn’t done in ages. She giggles. “Now we’re even… do please bring the covers back, it’s a bit chilly.” She says rubbing her arms.

  Peeta can’t stop looking at the rosy, puckered, nubs of her breasts until she shivers. He falls back on his hands, positioned at each side of her head. Once he’s brought the sheets back up to cover them both, he lowers himself to his elbows, his body warm and so much bigger than hers, cradled between her thighs.

  “Hey, I really don’t care if you see… ‘me’.” He says quietly twirling a loose strand of her dark hair around his finger, “I like seeing you too.” A moment passes, then he adds. “I never thanked you for taking care of me while I was hurt. I’m sorry I was such a nightmare when I finally woke up. I wish I had been in a better place mentally and emotionally. You were a perfect angel and I was horrible to you.”

  “It’s in the past.” She says looking up at him.

  Peeta sighs and shakes his head. “We’ve made a mess out of things haven’t we?”

  “We can’t dwell on that anymore.”

  “I know. We have bigger issues to attend to right now.” His blue eyes look nervously into her gray ones. “I’m sorry, Katniss. I tried to reason with Seneca. But his options went from bad to worse with my every rejection. We finally settled on one that although invasive, won’t be performed with Seneca in the audience.”

  Katniss shivers in disgust. “What’s the new caveat?”

  “You’ll have to get a gynecological exam, performed by a doctor of Seneca’s choosing, and they will confirm you have had intercourse recently. They’ll check for babies too, though I doubt it’ll be possible to determine so soon.”

  Katniss digs her face into his chest again. Peeta  holds his weight off her frame. Still, their skins touch everywhere, warm and soft, tingling in anticipation, flushing and waking up secret nerve ends they never had reason to know existed. Her nipples press to his chest, and suddenly both their bodies are covered in goose flesh.

  “So, they’re not coming in to watch you enter me then?” Katniss tries to confirm. Her fingers wrap around his strong arm muscles tentatively… Oh! It feels good, so impossibly good, to be under his weight this way.

  He shakes his head, kissing her temple. “No one will be peeping. I told them we’re not in the Middle Ages. They couldn’t just ask to watch us make love… nobody’s first time should be that way.”

  “Thank you,” She says gratefully.

  He takes a deep breath. “We do have to save tonight’s sheets. They want to see the mess we leave behind.”

  “Such perversion! Aren’t we already married? Why isn’t that enough for them?” Katniss asks indignant, she’s so worked up she shifts under his weight, making their bodies slide and press together in different places.

  Peeta’s member rubs the place where her inner thigh meets her cleft and they feel the friction wake a type of hunger they’ve never had a chance to explore before.

  Peeta groans, just as she gasps. His hips roll into her middle again of their own volition.

  “Katniss.” Peeta’s voice is almost a whisper against her warm cheek. “I have something to tell you. I’ve never done this before, so I’m probably not going to last very long. Please don’t judge my performance too harshly. I’ve been dreaming about doing this with you since I was old enough to learn about carnal urges.”

  “We’ll work together!” Says Katniss smiling sweetly. Her fingertips drawing circles over his biceps. “Is not like I have anything to compare your performance with. I don’t have much experience either, only what my friend Madge told me about laying with a man, and a very awkward talk with my mother when we were sixteen.” Katniss laughs burying her forehead into his shoulder. “Mother saw us kissing in the garden the day father let us ride our horses on our own. We thought we were so subtle… how naive!”

  He drags his lips to her ear. “We are not naive children anymore. We are about to do more naughty things than merely kissing in the meadow. I’m supposed to be readying you for me. I don’t want to hurt you, so… um… can I… touch you? Kiss you, perhaps?” His hips roll into her again, making them both sigh.

  “I don’t know… kissing hasn’t been too safe for me. People tend to get angry when boys kiss me, and either lecture me about the birds and the bees or accuse me of being some kind of harlot.” She says pointedly.

  “Goddamnit, Katniss! Kiss me!” He doesn’t let her respond, his mouth is on hers, devouring her whole.

  She responds enthusiastically, her hands cradle his face while he brings a hesitant hand down her arm. In an effort to help him, she rotates her torso, but he misses the hint, so she grabs his hand and puts it on her eagerly awaiting breast.

  He’s never squeeze a tit before, he never allowed himself such liberties with her when they were young; and later he was too convinced no woman would want him, he never pursued anyone else. But now that his hand is kneading her soft, perfectly round mound in his hand, he wants to taste it. He suckles on her breasts like they are coated with ambrosia and he will die if doesn’t lick all of it off her skin.

  The sounds they make are obscene! Wanton and needy. He’s ready to burst, but every word he’s ever heard from his brothers stick in his mind: “Be gentle but passionate. Make sure she’s sufficiently aroused, lubrication between the legs will make this loads easier and more pleasurable for everyone. A woman’s juices is the best dessert a man will ever taste.” and the such. He wants to do so much, but he can barely hold on to sanity as it is!

  “Katniss, I am going make sure you’re ready for me.”

  Katniss nods, perspiration clinging to her forehead. “Touch me, Peeta!” She keens.

  Peeta’s hand reaches between Katniss’ legs. He could die a happy man just dragging his fingers through the warm, wet, folds of his bride. “I have to penetrate you right now, Kitty.” He grunts against her lips.

  She wills her thighs further apart, and holds her breath in anticipation. Peeta takes himself in hand and growls, her arousal still on his fingers feels heavenly against his heated skin. It’s even better when the tip of his cock glides between her folds, and blindly seeks her entrance.

  Katniss moans at the sensation of his manhood there, teasing her. Her pelvis angles instinctively to guide his member home.

  It takes a couple of fumbling tries, but then he finds the place he fits in, and pushes right in, all the way to the hilt.

  Katniss gasps. All the breath pushed out of her lungs the deeper his length full her.

  “Peeta!” She whines, digging her nails into his shoulders. “Oh… Peeta, my love!”

  Peeta can’t hold back. He thrusts into her desperately, erratically. He’s placing sloppy kisses on her mouth, his hands planted by her head for fear of falling face first. Then without much warning, he’s moaning loudly while his seed spills in spurts deep inside Katniss.

  “Katniss!” He chokes back her name, “I’m going to take care of you now.” He rasps when he’s able to speak again.

  Katniss wants to ask what he means, but he pulls out of her body quickly, and throws off the blankets from their bodies. Those are only hindering his movements anyway. He balances on his leg stump and knee, until he sits with her legs splayed wide on the mattress. His eyes roam over her nude form, greedily, lustful, and ravenously.

  His fingers pull her folds apart. “Oh, darling… you look glorious, dripping wet, with load fulls of my seed escaping your depths.”

  Katniss doesn’t think Peeta is actually talking to her, since his eyes are fixated on her womanhood.

  “There are traces of blood. That’s good, Kitty,” He says looking up at her. He sees the same lecherous shine in her eyes he’s sporting.

  “Then let it stain the sheets, husband. We don’t want to disappoint Seneca or Grandfather.”

  “I don’t care about them right now. I’m going to make you scream in pleasure now. You tell me if this feels good, because I only know this on a theoretical level.”

  She nods.

  The fingers of his other hand caress her along the slit, her hips adjust at the touch. His sinks one finger inside the place his penis just vacated, and the action brings forth a reaction. She gasps and bucks into his touch, he starts pumping his finger in and out of her, his thumb accidentally bumps the very top of her cleft, and then she really gives him something to work with.

  They spend the next twenty minutes exploring her womanhood. Using his release as lubrication, but she’s producing her own juices copiously. Out of curiosity, he takes a lick of the sticky film, and she sings his name like he’s never heard before. He’s hard again, so he asks if he can have one more time. She practically cries when he enters her, and this time they fall apart together.

  ————-

  The next morning, they present Seneca with truly filth sheets, and the man finds the notion so hilarious, he waves the doctor examination. It’s obvious, Peeta claimed his wife more than once by they awkward way she moves anyway.

  “Our contracts, sir.” Demands Peeta not amused by Seneca’s uncalled commentary.

  “Very well. Here you go. The Mellarks and Everdeens owe Grandfather Snow nothing more. This generation is free and financially secure.”

  “Thank you, sir. Now if you excuse us. We have a life to build from the ashes. One that’s real and free of manipulative relatives.” Says Katniss glaring at the man. “We hope to never see you again, sir, we expect to be the last people Grandfather Snow gets to tries to use for his amusement.”

  Peeta nods in agreement.

  They just look at each other, and walk out of the hotel hand in hand.

  “So what do we know?” She asks meekly.

  Peeta takes her face in his hand. “I just want to spend every minute o the rest of my life with you. Making up for all the heartache I caused.”

  She sees hope in those blue eyes she’s known since she can remember. Eyes full of promises and humility. Eyes she trusted when she was a child, she reckons she can trust him again now, he’s not going anywhere anymore.

  They kiss sweetly, breathing each other in, and swap shy smiles.

  “Come on then!” She links her arm through his elbow, and they walk under the shining sun towards a promising future.