#just. very different from the writing and the intentionality behind past music of hers

[doverstar]

so far taylor swift’s new album is…not…good?

[inky-duchess]

Lessons Writers can learn from Hamilton

Guess who finally watched Hamilton? I love historical dramas and films and now historical musicals. I am a bigger nerd than before and I can't stop singing My Shot. So what can we learn about writing from Hamilton?

Aaron Burr, Sir

I really feel for Aaron Burr during the beginning of the story. Most of us have dealt with a similar issue: working hard yet somebody is always better than you. Even though Burr is technically the antagonist by story's end, most of the audience does get his point. But the problem with Burr, both by the audience's view and Hamilton's is the fact that he doesn't say what he believes in. La Fayette wants the fall of monarchy and better equality. Hamilton wants to make a place for himself in the world. Eliza wants her family to be happy. Burr tells Hamilton to keep his opinions to himself leading to Hamilton to ask, "Burr, the revolution's imminent. What do you stall for? If you stand for nothing, Burr, what'll you fall for?" Every character should have something they fight for. It endears them to the audience and allows us to stand behind them. Without goals and principles, a character will always just remain a name on a page and a collection of actions without meaning.

A different PoV- a different story.

During the Helpless section of the story, we witness the scene through Eliza Schuyler's eyes. We see her sister Angelica crossing the room to Alexander Hamilton to get him to dance with Eliza. Eliza sees Alexander as an honourable gallant, who has stolen her heart. Then in Satisfied, we see the scene from Angelica's PoV. Angelica is less naïve. She notes Hamilton's recognition of their last name, realizing that he's out to get a rich wife. She also realises that Hamilton will never be satisfied in life and that he's not a great catch socially or financially. "I asked about his fam'ly, did you see his answer? His hands started fidgeting, he looked askance He's penniless, he's flying by the seat of his pants". By showing this scene in dual PoV, we are awaken to both sides of Hamilton, the romantic version and the shrewd politician climbing his way up. By choosing a PoV character to tell a particular part of the story, you are moulding the events to the character's preconceived notions and opinions.

Foreshadowing

Hamilton does one thing exceptionally well. It foreshadows the ending very well. Hamilton repeatedly tells us that he isn't going to throw away his shot. We think it means his shot at rising up from poverty and his chance at notoriety in the Revolution. It starts becoming literal as Philip goes off to his first duel, with Hamilton almost begging Philip to fire his weapon away from his opponent. It doesn't do Philip any good. Later on during the duel against Burr, Hamilton intentionally misses his shot just as his son had only to die when his opponent discharged his weapon, killing him. Burr even called back to Philip's duel while describing Hamilton's affect before their own duel. You only begin to realise how profound the echo of My Shot is.

Alluding to a bigger picture

Hamilton may be a musical with no dialogue but that does not mean that there is no tell in the story. The actors do a great job of alluding to a deeper story behind the lyrics. During his last corporeal scene with Eliza, Hamilton's affect tells us that he at least very much suspects that he is not going to make it back this time. Lin Manuel Miranda's subtle expressions are just masterful. His mouth is saying one thing and his eyes are saying something completely else. In another brilliant Lin moment, the scene where Alexander blows up at Washington after the very first duel, you can see how angry Hamilton is. He is shaking despite his polite, yet curt replies. We don't even have to have the "Don't call me son" exchange. Lin's face tells us everything. Hamilton loves Washington like a father and resents him for rejecting his attempt to defend his name. We do not even have to be told, they showed us. There is always a deeper meaning to what a character does or says.

Your Protagonist is allowed do shitty things

A protagonist is not perfect. Most of the stories we read are narrated by people, who are by definition imperfect. If you look at any story the narrator/protagonist is usually a good person but has flaws or has done some questionable things. Hamilton is the good guy of the story, the protagonist, the hero. He's pro-Revolution, anti-slavery and has a troubled past. Even still Hamilton has an affair. It is not his best move or even the most savoury thing. There is no redeeming reason for him to cheat but even still, the audience either forgives him outright or takes it in their stride. Your protagonist does not have to be squeaky clean. They are allowed to make dumb decisions.

Remember History has its eyes on you

The one thing I often find missing in stories and worldbuilding is the media's/public's opinion on your characters or even the world around them. Hamilton hits the nail on the head. Your characters have no say on how they are perceived by their peers or the world around them. It is an interesting component to add in any narrative. What does the public say about your characters and world? "And when you're gone, who remembers your name? Who keeps your flame? Who tells your story? Who tells your story? Who tells your story?"

[hwrryscherry]

The one where Y/N is from a very famous family.

blurb: Harry is going to meet  Famous Y/N’s family for the first time on a family trip to their holiday house in Monaco. He’s very nervous about meeting your highly successful in Hollywood family and you’d try to give him the best weekend getaway ever.

word count: 2.9K

warnings: Y/B/N= your brother’s name   -  Y/S/N= your sister’s name.   Y/L/N= your last name.

author’s note: This was a request and I just gotta say that I loved this concept, and even though it took me a while to write because I had so many ideas and I had to organize my thoughts I loved it. And I’m actually thinking about making this a serie, what do you guys think???? Also it’s crazy but I spent so much time deciding on face claims to Y/N’s family lol i’m weird and this is the request which Y/N’s face claim is Romee Strijd, BUT ANYWAY I hope you like it as much as I do!!!

   The weather was really hot in Monaco, and you felt it on your skin when you left the private jet that just landed at Monaco Airport (MCM). The warm rays of the sun were in contact with your skin immediately as you raised your head to direct your gaze to the sky. It was an open sky with almost, no clouds and the sun shining more than ever. Your eyes ached from the sunlight making you lower your head again feeling your long strands of hair fall to the front of your shoulders covered in the little baby pink blazer as you both waited for your car to come to take you to your family's vacation house.

   Harry was sweating, and it wasn't because of the heat. Well, not entirely.You two have been dating for the past 9 months, and this is the first time that Harry will ever meet your family as you wanted to be completely sure that you were doing the right thing. Yes, it was the first time that he would meet your extremely famous, rich and adored family in Hollywood. He would finally meet your father, who has been one of his favorite actors since he was 12 years old. He would meet your mother, who besides being one of his fashion icons, was one of his first celebrity crushes. All right, you thought this part was a little weird but that wouldn’t stop you from making fun of him about this. Anyway, he would know your older brother, in whom he loved the music and was very anxious to be able to talk about music with him. Harry never felt insecure about his music but today he did. He did because he was afraid that your musician brother would hate his job and decide that he just wasn't suitable for dating you. And believe me, he didn't get it out of his head even though you told him how silly it was. He would also meet your older sister who is one of the most talented models and actress of nowadays and all of this made him very anxious.

   To summarize, Harry never thought he could be so nervous just by the thought of meeting the family of one of his girlfriends, but you were different. He didn't think of you as just ''one of his girlfriends'', he thought of you as the right one. Like that person he wants to have a future with, even if he's precocious, that's how he felt. And he didn’t really think of how hard it would be to date the youngest member of one of the most adored celebrity families.

   You ran your hand through your hair, tossing it behind your shoulders, so you could get a better look at your boyfriend's face. You turned your back on him and gave a little shrug as you put your arms back and hinted that he would help you take off your blazer, and so he did.

—You know it's bullshit, right? They’ll love you! — The words came out of your mouth gently as you felt Harry's fingers covered in cold rings slide over the skin of your warm arms as he helped you take off your blazer. You could hear a loud sigh coming from him, which makes you turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he positioned his hands on your waist causing a slight shiver as you felt his icy rings against your skin.

— Will they? — Harry asked lowering his head to rest it on your exposed neck breathing in the scent of your sweetened perfume thinking to himself how much he loves this scent. He felt pressured, and you actually felt bad for him about feeling like this. You knew your family and you knew they would never in a million years downplay him of you or anything in his life. You gave him a tight hug caressing his back as a form of comforting him.

— They will! They’re not demogorgons, it’s not like they’ll eat you alive! — You’d say in a mocking tone making him break the embrace and look at you with a mocking gaze eliciting a small laugh from you. 

— They can! — He’d argue back.

— But they won’t! — You’d say fastly. Looking away from the boy's green eyes to the black SUV that approached both of you. Particularly, you didn't notice if you had any paparazzi intentionally hidden in there. You and Harry were still keeping things low key, because as long as no one knew, it would always be better and easier because there would be no haters and no judgment. This is the point of life; no matter how nice and lovable you are, there will always be someone who will not like you and that’s okay. Later that day, you would find out that there were some paparazzi there when some pictures of you and Harry talking and getting in a car together were published in the media.

   The drive to your family's private house was fun. You sang some familiar songs that played on the local radio, captured some lovely pictures of each other which is something that you do frequently; you both usually fill your galleries with photos never before seen, so you can remember incredible moments lived between you. It was a weightless moment, where the two of you were genuinely happy. For a few precious minutes, Harry forgot his nervousness and let him go, let himself go in the sound of you laughter, in the smell of your hair, by the temperature of your covered body near to his body, and he no longer thought about how difficult he thought it would be to meet your family, but those feelings came back hitting him as he felt the car stop on the driveway in front of the immense door of this immense house, which you didn't see the need. It was quite common for you and your family to vacation here but you didn't see the specific need for a massive house like this for five people.

   You got out of the car and walked instantly towards the trunk of the car that opened at the driver's command. Harry took the two heavier suitcases out of the trunk while you took out the small suitcase, more like a necessaire you used to bring in your makeup and cosmetic products. You looked at Harry and sighed, sighed in awe as you observed how the muscles in his arms looked extremely more prominent at this point. The way this man has the power to amaze you at any time was different, and he knew it, he knew it very well!

    He stands up looking behind you where he could see your mother and your father coming to both of you with big smiles on their faces. He observed how much you looked like your father and just a little bit of your mom, but he also observed that the three of you had the same eye color and the same hair color, actually, all of your family was exactly like this. Almost like twins.

— Darling! — You hear your mother's loud voice and turn around to see her. She was acting like you hadn't seen her two days ago when she invited you to come on this trip and you said you were going to take your boyfriend with you. But anyway, she quickened her pace and when she got close enough to you, she wrapped her arms around you giving you a tight hug. Your father went directly to Harry. He kept a straight and ineligible countenance. Harry wondered if he was about to hug him or if he was about to shoot him for the simple fact that he was dating his youngest daughter. But then, his father smiled and held out his right hand to Harry, who did not hesitate to shake it.

— Mr. Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you! — His hand was sweaty, that cold sweat of nervousness that made his father laugh out loud. You closed your eyes for a moment remembering precisely that you specifically told Harry to don’t call neither of your parents as ‘’Mr. And Mrs., ’’because as they typically say: ‘’It makes them feel old.’’

— Relax, boy! — He said as he set one of his long arms around Harry's shoulders getting ou a chuckle from Harry as he saw your mother's sweet gaze on him.She then smiled at the boy who was definitely a lot taller than her and then back at you.

— He's as handsome in person as in the pictures you showed me, dear! — She said winking at you, causing you to widen your eyes at her while Harry laughed out loud.

— Mom! — You would say scolding.

— It's okay, Y/N! I know you go around saying I'm handsome and everything! — Harry risked the joke, which made you roll her eyes in a playful way to him.

— Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's take your stuff up there! — Your father said lugging the small suitcase you carried without hesitation.

— Okay, you two take things up there while Y/N and I will go straight to the pool area. — Your mother said and your father just nodded in agreement with her and immediately started walking into the house. Harry widened his eyes at you as a cry for help and you just shrugged your shoulders being practically dragged by your mother's small figure, since you were basically six inches taller than her.

    You walked through the extensive pool area with crossed arms. You both walked to a covered part where a broad, round white wooden table was located surrounded by beautiful yellow chairs, not the vibrant yellow but the yellow at sunrise, that calm and serene.

   You two sat on the chair and you used your hand to support your face on the table, thus letting your long strands of hair fall to the left side of your shoulder. Your mother took one of her hands to hold the strands of hair in her hands and looked at your face with a tender smile.

— You look happy! You have that happiness glow — She said admiring your face that instantly started to smile just to remember the reason you were so happy, and to remember your happiness had a name, appearance, voice and age.

— I genuinely am! — You said softly trying to contain the smile.

— I'm happy! He looks like a lovely guy, after the last one, I confess that I was worried about it! — Your mother said in a more deep tone and you just tried to expel all thoughts about your ex-boyfriend, it was not even worth remembering that human being, if he can be considered a human being.

— He's... He's the best, mom. — You said softly bringing your hands to your face and then placing your palms on your cheeks holding your smile, even though it seemed impossible — He really is! Harry is so clever, kind, respectful. He's hilarious, you know? Time goes by so fast, I feel light. I forget about worries and focus only on him and I, and at that moment it seems that the rest of the world ceases existing and by god, he was so nervous about coming here today. He was terrified you guys would detest him, and I would just stop liking him.

— Why? But this is so silly! — She said snorting a little, it was even a little bit funny because this has been exactly the same thing that you have been saying to Harry. — You need to make your own choices and we recognize it, we don't always support it, but we know it!

    You chuckled a little with the older woman's words. God, how you idolized her. You were always grateful to have such a good relationship with her. This type of relationship that you can arrive and spend hours telling things and will feel unjudged. Everyone should have something like that.

— But where are Y/S/N and Y/B/N? I thought they would come too — You asked about your older siblings as you straightened up in your chair.

—They arrived! They said something about buying some things on the market. I have no idea!— She said taking the glass she held in her hand and taking a sip of the drink. —These children are like this, you know, you generate them, give birth to them, raise them, spend thousands of dollars in schools and then they go out and don't even tell you where they are going. — She said being the usual drama queen and you cannot avoid the laugh that escaped your lips, this woman was simply everything for you.

— All very dramatic, I bet they went to buy things that you should have bought and forgot! — You said raising your eyebrows in a mocking way.

— Okay, okay! You don't value me. I understand! — This was probably one of the most dramatic phrases she had ever said in her life. You then feel a pair of firm hands on your shoulders and automatically tilt your head to look and come across Harry's face. Harry's beautiful, perfectly structured face.

— Hi! — Harry said to bend down to give a light kiss on your forehead. You then looked ahead and saw your father behind your mother.

— We left things in your room. Everything is in there! — Your father said looking at you two. You then got up and stood next to Harry and looked at the older couple.

— I'll go up and take a shower then! I'm dying of heat! — You said — And Hazz, could you come along and take things out of the suitcase? — You said taking your gaze to him who agreed with a soft "sure." You then smiled at your parents, and you walked into the house. You both went up the stairs. 

                                          ...

   It was about 2pm now and you were all reunited att the pool area. Or siblings and their current partners were there too. You two had already showered and switched to more tropical clothes. You were wearing a beige bikini with white polka dots while Harry was wearing a navy blue swim trunks with a single wine red stripe, and believe me, it wasn't long before the two of you were in the pool. You both had dark glasses on your faces to protect you from the sunlight. You and Harry leaned against the edge of the pool without leaving the water. Harry had his back against the edge while you stood in front of him, with your arms around his neck and his hands on your waist while the Carpenters song "Top of the world" played in the background.

   You could feel Harry touching the tips of your wet hair on your back as he didn't really listen to the things you said.

— Harry? — You called him trying to get his attention that seemed far away at the moment. Harry put his thoughts aside and stared at you looking a little far away. —You weren't even listening to what I was saying, right? — You said raise your hands to stroke the taller boy's wet hair.

— Sorry, what were you saying? — Harry asked taking off his sunglasses and then bringing his tattooed hand to your face so that he could remove your glasses as well so he could have a clear view of your eyes.

— What did you think? — You asked showing interest in the boy's thoughts.

— In almost everything and in everything. I was thinking that this place is amazing, that your family is really nice and that you are wonderful! — He said in a charming tone with a smirk on his lips as he leaned down to peck your lips.

— So you admit that I was right, and you were wrong? — You asked raising your eyebrows teasing him for his nervousness that had already passed by this time, since he got along so well with his entire family.

— I would say a little bit! — He would speak reluctantly in the form of a joke causing you to snort and slap his shoulder lightly as a joke basically demanding that he tell the truth — Ok, ok I admit! It was stupid nervousness! Do you feel better now, Miss Y/L/N?

— Well... I feel adorable! — You say smiling convincingly.

   The rest of the trip was incredible, and you guys agreed on that. You guys did so many fun things. You went on a Jet Ski in Cap-d'Ail which is very close to Monaco. You took a whole day to go from Monaco to Nice by helicopter where you spent the whole day there. You went canyoning and went to the casino. There were days where you just went shopping in Monaco and spent the day enjoying at home, but surely one of your favorite nights was the night where you had a game night where you played UNO, and poker, in general the whole trip it was so much fun and Harry would like every day of his life to be like this, and preferably, for you to be by his side.

[curetapwater]

Hello friend lover of the fairies; Do you really think that PETER PAN is a VERY NEGATIVE influence on our beloved Tinkerbell? I personally believe that YES!! HE IS A BAD INFLUENCE!! Tink would never be able to kill a person, but in Peter Pan Movie she ALMOST KILLS WENDY; It is obvious that Peter unconsciously induced Tink to do that horrible thing, due to his IMMATURE and little awareness of his actions. Tink was only JEALOUS because of him!! Do you agree?

Well, this is a very interesting question! I'll start by saying that in the JM Barrie book, the reason as to why Tink did that to Wendy was because fairies are so small that they can only feel one emotion at a time, and at that time her only emotion was jealousy.

However, the fairies of Pixie Hollow are clearly more emotionally complex than this so I don't think that's the case for this particular Tink. So, I'll talk on one end from the perspective of her as a person in-story, and on the other end from the perspective of why she was written that way.

I will say I'm unfamiliar with her characterization in the Pixie Hollow books because the couple I read didn't focus on her (I'm sure @princessquinnella probably has some very interesting insights regarding that, if you'd like to share, Quinn!), but in the Tinker Bell movies she definitely doesn't have it in her to kill anyone, let alone a child. She can get angry and be impulsive (like when she broke the moon stone in The Lost Treasure, or when she flew out of her hiding place to tell off the dad in The Great Fairy Rescue) but even at her worst she still doesn't want to hurt anyone.

The 1953 movie seems to take place quite a bit later. She lives with the Lost Boys and seems to be the only pixie in the movie. Also, Peter Pan... uh.... let's just say I wouldn't want to hang out with someone who never matures past the age of 12, because that age in particular tends to have a bad intersection of immaturity but thinking you're mature enough to do things you really shouldn't. And Pan has that bad. He's so flippant about traumatizing Hook for one thing. Their enemy relationship is 100% Pan's fault because he chopped off Hook's hand for fun. And now this guy is being driven to the brink by a crocodile that Pan sicced on him so yeah no wonder Hook is Like That. Like normally I think the "Disney hero is bad and villain is good" take is tired in most cases but in this particular case yeah. Peter Pan is a little jerk.

So. Tink seems to have been isolated from her pixie friends and is in this environment full of violence and chaos. I'm sure that did probably change her for the worse, and stoke the flames of her more impulsive side into something with the potential to be dangerous. That doesn't mean she's a completely different person, but it makes me think that after she left Pixie Hollow something in her was... left behind? Idk. I'm not sure if Disney Fairies ever touches on how they met or why she moved in with him. Like I said, because I didn't read the books I don't know where Peter Pan falls in the timeline of Disney Fairies but I do know that the movies are all prequels so that's what I'm going off of. But I think there is a layer of toxicity between Pan and Tink that neither of them are aware of. So that's my Death of the Author interpretation of this situation. But I'm also interested in this from the perspective of why the creators added this shift in her character.

From a writing and marketing perspective, it's important to remember that the "would murder a child" version of Tink came decades before "would never intentionally harm someone" Tink. In the 1953 movie I imagine they just wrote her doing that because, hey, that's what happens in the original story. Also I imagine maybe there was some cultural factor. Like, maybe seeing a sympathetic character try to kill a kid was funny to 50s audiences but now not so much? Idk I mean like a year after this movie came out there was a big-budget movie musical about a bunch of women getting kidnapped that was framed for comedy and it was nominated for Best Picture so maybe they had a really twisted sense of humor back then. (Side note but that kidnapping movie is ranked in the American Film Institute's greatest movies of all time??? Why??????)

Anyway, fast forward to like the year 2000 and Disney is trying to pick out female characters for their new Disney Princess franchise. Tinker Bell seems like a great candidate because she's very popular and she's a fairy which little girls love! But they decide Tink doesn't really fit in the Princess line up, not to mention she has enough star power to have her own franchise. Cue Disney Fairies. But now it's the 2000s and it's unlikely that parents will let their little girls read books and watch movies and play mmorpgs about an attempted child murderer. So they sand off her edges and now she's toned down enough to be the protagonist of Disney Fairies. I don't wanna say they sanitized her or something because she clearly still has her distinctive spunkiness. But her more violent tendencies have been replaced with something easier for little kids to digest. At least, that's what I think. I guess I got a little marketing major-y there at the end haha. It's all the studying I've been doing!

[ravs6709]

Our Very Own Story- Queerplatonic Fedex

Alternate title: I project so much onto Fitz that he's probably ooc

Woo, I'm finally done! I've had this idea for so many months, but I never had the chance to actually finish it, but finally, it's here (in all its 7.3k words glory)

This story takes place in the same au as Our Very Own Melody, which is the (romantic) Kam side. OVOM isn't necessary to read to read this one, but it's still my fave work, so read it anyways

But here's a refresher. Soulmates au in high school. Soulmate bond is having a strong bond similar to telepathy and empathy combined, and can only be revealed once the soulmates are close with each other.

Ve/vem Dex and she/ae Biana because yes.

And also, Fitz, Keefe, Tam and Linh are in the same grade, and are all one year older than Sophie, Biana and Dex.

Warnings: censored swearing, and mentions of (a character from a play's) death

Hope you enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz remembered the days that he played the piano. He still played it in the present, but not to the extent that he had in the past. He used to constantly play it, something that he was partially forced to do.

It wasn't like he didn't enjoy it, because he did. He'd started at a young age, and as he grew older, he found himself creating parts to songs. Just a few notes, maybe long enough for a verse, he didn't have the same passion to create music like Keefe would using his violin.

If anything, he preferred to write lyrics. He liked being able to tell stories with words. It was at the end of elementary school where he'd realized that it wasn't writing music that interested, but writing in general. He had so many ideas flowing inside of him, and a powerful imagination.

When middle school came, he started to explore some of the possibilities. He tried poetry, but while it was fun, it wasn't his thing. He particularly enjoyed writing short stories for English class. He didn't spend that much time focusing on writing though, he spent most of his free time hanging out with Keefe, Biana, Sophie, and rarely, Dex.

It was in eighth grade when Biana practically forced him to watch the school play with her and Sophie. (Keefe, for some reason, had been allowed to decline the invitation. That alone made Biana's intentions suspicious).

From start to finish, he was amazed by what he saw. The play was one that he'd heard of, but didn't know the plot to. Each movement of the actor was a sentence in his head, he could see the words written down on paper, ready to be acted out. He knew that script writing wasn't as simple as that, the formatting was different, but still he was curious.

After the play was over, the three of them started walking to take Sophie home. "So, did you like it?" Biana asked.

"It was good," Fitz replied. "The lighting was really great."

That was another thing that made script writing different compared to writing a short story. When writing something to be acted out, you had to be able to imagine the scene, know what kind of lighting would be needed and what special effects were needed in order to emphasize something, or in order to make something happen.

"It was great!" Sophie agreed. "Dex did a really good job behind the scenes!"

"Wait, Dex was involved with the play?" Fitz asked.

He'd met Dex back in elementary school, but they never actually spoke to each other until a few months ago, when Sophie befriended them. But even now, even though they'd hang out at his house, he hadn't really interacted with Dex that often. (It did explain why Dex wasn't with them either).

"You didn't know?" Biana asked. "I mean, ve hasn't talked about it much, but surely you should've known. Vis knowledge of technology is really good."

Fitz hadn't actually witnessed it for himself, but had heard about it. But the stories couldn't do it justice.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After Sophie had gone home, the two siblings started to walk to their home.

"So, what about playwriting?" Biana asked.

"I know you brought me to see it for a reason," he told her.

She crossed her arms. "Do I have to have a reason?"

"Knowing you, yeah."

Ae huffed. "Rude. What would I even have to gain from introducing you to a form of writing that you might enjoy?"

"Oh, I don't know, like asking for a favour such as doing half of a project?" He was still a little bit bitter for having to do that.

"That was one time!"

"One time too many!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

Fitz was glad that his high school had a talented drama club. Every year, his school participated in the city-wide festival. The thought alone was exciting, and he knew that unlike in middle school, it was the students who wrote the plays. He wanted to be part of it.

It also sounded a little stressful, because it was no longer just a school play, but a piece of art meant to represent the school. Actual professionals would be there to judge the play. And this was going to be his first time doing this. He knew though, that it was going to be fine. He wasn't alone, there was going to be a whole playwriting team to create the play.

Unfortunately, luck decided not to favour him. While there were multiple teachers in the drama department, it was the head who would deal with everything. Except the head of the drama department had gone on maternity leave, meaning that the school wasn't going to participate in the festival for that year. While it would be rude to be annoyed at the teacher, he was still a little upset, because he'd been looking forward to it.

The year itself wasn't bad, he enjoyed it a lot. He'd managed to get most of his classes with Keefe, the only differing one being their art course, where Keefe went with music, and he chose drama. His classes were entertaining. Sophie and Biana had started dating, and the hangouts at his house only grew more frequent.

There were also the Song twins. He wasn't necessarily friends with Linh, but they shared a few classes, and she was fun to be around. Sometimes they ate lunches together when Keefe wasn't around. Tam, on the other hand, he knew nearly nothing about, other than the fact that he usually kept to himself. Or at least, until Keefe had managed to start a rivalry with him, and then they started serenading each other with their violins. Their rivalry was a big source of entertainment, and he and Linh would often discuss the fact that they clearly liked each other.

All of those things definitely made his first year of high school a good one.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Even without the fact that the head of the drama teacher had returned from maternity leave, his second year of high school was eventful. Biana, Sophie and Dex had joined them, meaning that he got to see them more often.

He walked into the drama club room to get his form to join the drama club. He was surprised to see that Dex was also in the room.

"Hey Dex," he greeted. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I normally do backstage stuff, did you forget, Wonderboy?" ve asked.

"Oh yeah, that's right."

He was reminded of when Sophie had told him that Dex was part of the backstage crew during middle school. He made a mental reminder to not forget, because while he hadn't intentionally been rude, he had been rude to vem in the past. He wanted to be a better friend than that.

"But actually," ve continued. "I wasn't actually going to be a part of backstage this year, I was thinking of being an actor."

"You like acting?"

Fitz was pretty sure that Dex had never mentioned being an actual actor before, but if he had to be honest, he wouldn't have been surprised if ve had. He'd already forgotten about vis involvement with the drama club.

But to his surprise, Dex flushed red, one of vis hands moving to scratch the back of vis neck. "It's not something I've brought up. I kinda have stage fright, so I'm trying to face that fear and do something that I want. Even if I get a minor role, I'll be happy."

"You should go for it!" Fitz told vem. "I'm sure you'll do good on the stage!"

Ve smiled sheepishly. "Thank you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Along with him, there were four other people who signed up to be a playwright. He'd only recognized one of them, since they'd been in the same class the previous year, but he wasn't friends with any of them. They were nice people though, they were quite calm, compared to his friends. (Keefe, Biana and Sophie made a dangerous combination).

Playwriting was interesting, because it was different compared to what he was used to. He was aware that it wouldn't be the same, but he wasn't expecting how different they would feel. There was little focus on description, and there was no flowery prose at all. The descriptions that were there were short and simple, just enough for the actor and backstage crew to know what was going on.

It was a little hard getting used to the formatting, because he had to remember to capitalize the names, and there were a lot of small details that he needed to remember. But it was okay, because he had the other writers with him.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So," Dex said. "How's the play going?"

"We're mostly done with the script, but we've been told the script is too short, so we're just adding on to it." This was one of the few times that ve had been the one to approach him, and he had a feeling that he'd be interacting with vem more often. "We've decided on a subversion of the classic high school story, you know what I'm talking about, right?"

Ve scrunched vis nose. "New girl goes to high school, befriends two popular guys- but sometimes one of them is a childhood friend- and gets into a love triangle with said guys? Plus, there's probably a mean girl? How could I not know? What changes have you made?"

"The mean one isn't actually that mean, and fae gets together with the main character."

"Ooh, do the two popular guys get together?" ve asked.

"One of them is enby, but yeah. The writers have been having so much fun making everything queer."

"Holy sh*t, that does sound like fun! Last year me would have killed to see something like that, when I was questioning myself."

Fitz had been starting to come to terms with the fact that he was aromantic, but he could definitely see where ve was coming from. Even if there weren't any confirmed characters on the aspec spectrum, he was always happy to have characters who were queer.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Crapcrapcrap," Dex muttered under vis breath, pacing back and forth as ve waited for Fitz to get his lunch out of his locker.

Fitz took out his lunch, then closed the locker. He turned towards vem. "Try to breathe," he suggested. "If you get too panicked now, that's when the mistakes are going to happen. Do you want to take a minute to sit down and breathe?"

Ve glanced back and forth between him and the staircase they'd need to climb to head to the club room. Reluctantly, they sat down.

"It's not like they won't start without you there, right?" Ve asked.

"It's not like you'll be late. What do you normally do to calm yourself? Do you want me to hold your hand? I know Keefe likes that."

For a moment, he wondered if he was overstepping some kind of boundary- because they still weren't that close- but ve smiled sheepishly, and looked down at the floor. "Maybe… that would be nice. We can try that."

Ve gently held his hand, and Fitz noticed that his hand was warm, compared to his own cold one. They sat like that for a few moments, until vis shaky hand became more stable.

"Okay," ve said, but it came out as a breathy whisper. "I think we should get going."

Ve let go of his hand, the warmth slowly fading away. He liked the feeling of holding vis hand.

They went to the club room, where the auditions were being held. Dozens of students were trying out for the various roles, and he felt a little proud, knowing that people wanted to act for a play that he helped to write.

He watched the students try out, and they were all so impressive. He was glad that he wasn't actually part of the group that decided who was casted and who wasn't. He may have been a writer, but the writers weren't in charge of the auditions.

Soon it was Dex's turn- ve was auditioning for one of the teachers in the story. The teacher that ve was auditioning for was someone lenient, a good friend to the other students. The teacher would often jokingly tease the students in the class.

Seeing Dex on the stage, it was almost as ve had become a new person. He knew that obviously, being able to act in a variety of roles was what an actor was supposed to do, but it was like seeing a side to vem that he'd never seen before.

Everything, from the tone of vis voice, to the grin on vis face, to the very slight change in posture was better than he could have ever imagined.

Fitz was sure that if ve had gone for a lead role, ve would be able to steal the show.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Dex, that was amazing!" He told vem, after ve had finished the audition.

"You… you think so?" Ve murmured, looking a little flustered. (Wait, flustered?)

"Yeah! You were great up there!" He replied, choosing to ignore what vem being flustered could mean.

"It- it was only the audition."

"You'll be getting more practice, it's like…" he paused, trying to find the words. "A preview. If the preview is good, the full thing will also be great."

"If you say so."

"I know you'll do great."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex had managed to be casted in the role, and both Fitz and Dex were happy. Dex had to practice vis lines, so Fitz offered to be there to listen. At first, ve seemed hesitant, out of the fear of looking bad, but eventually they accepted the offer.

At first, it was a little awkward. Dex seemed to have difficulties making eye contact with him, and when ve did, ve would seem to lose concentration on what ve was saying. It wasn't just a lesser version of stage fright, because it started to extend to their normal conversations too.

(He was starting to have suspicions, but he hoped it wasn't the case. He didn't want to have to think about that.)

But slowly, ve became more comfortable talking to him. The confidence that had been evident during the audition started to return. Once again, Fitz was in awe.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"These plays are so good," Dex murmured.

Fitz nodded in agreement. At the festival, various schools presented their plays. Each of them were different- one was fantasy, with kingdoms and people trying to survive, another depicted a local issue, and another about what it means to be a family. They were all about different topics, but each of them were spectacular.

"What if ours isn't as good?" Ve whispered.

"We've worked hard on it," he answered. "We'll make sure it's good."

He offered his hand to vem, something that he started doing often after the first time. Ve took it, and they sat on the seats holding hands until it was time for their school to set up everything.

"I have faith in you, okay?" Fitz whispered as ve stood up.

"Thank you." Ve smiled, then left with the other actors.

Fitz looked back towards the stage so he could enjoy the show. Since he wasn't an actor, he didn't have to get up. The play began, and even though he'd seen it multiple times, it still looked impressive. The jokes didn't fail to make him smile.

After it was all over, ve sat back down next to him.

"You did great up there," he told vem.

Ve smiled at him, vis face shining with joy. (Part of him wanted to just smile back, the other part wanted to back away, because of all of these feelings. Instead, he shoved the conflicting feelings away, he could think about them another day.)

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that he didn't get the chance to think about his feelings another day. The two of them lived nearby, so after they were brought back to the school, they decided to walk together.

"Hey Fitz, can I tell you something?" Ve asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

Ve stopped walking, then turned to face him. "I have a crush on you. I've had one since last year."

Despite the fact that he suspected this, he was still shocked. "What?"

"I don't expect you to return my feelings, but I thought… after the play, I finally have the confidence to tell you."

"Since…" he murmured. "Since how long?"

"Since last year," ve replied. "In the beginning, I honestly hated you. I thought you were a spoiled jerk, but I learned that you aren't that, and then my crush happened."

"Oh," he breathed, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I'm sorry, I don't feel the same way."

"It's okay, I just wanted to get it out," ve said, but he could see vis disappointment. "Oh, my house is that way, bye. Good night."

Fitz watched as ve walked down a different path, and he knew that they didn't have to part ways until another few minutes. He felt something like dread build up within him, and he couldn't help but think that he messed up.

•~•~•~•~•~•

After the confession, Dex started to keep vis distance, and Fitz hated it. He liked hanging out with vem, it was nice and comforting. It was like how they were in the beginning of the year, before they finally interacted with each other.

Whenever they had their group hangouts, Sophie, Keefe, Biana and Linh would sit in between them. The distance between them wasn't that huge, but he felt like it was just going to grow more.

It also didn't help that he didn't know how he was feeling. He thought that he had it figured out, he didn't have any romantic feelings towards vem. But every once in a while, he caught himself staring. Dex had seen him do it more than one time, and ve would be the first to look away, looking a little upset.

It would hurt, wouldn't it. I rejected you, and now I'm staring at you. I wish I had an answer for you.

However, he didn't, so he kept quiet and continued to stare longingly.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Okay, what's going on?" Biana asked, slamming his bedroom door open before slamming it shut again.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, hoping that ae wasn't referring to what he thought ae was about to say. "And careful with the door," he added, hoping to get aer off topic.

"Hah, nice try with that, but I'm referring to you and Dex," She replied.

He flinched. Damn it, she's too perceptive. And now she'll definitely know! Well, guess I've got no choice but to tell her.

"We haven't been dating," he explained. "I'm just… ve confessed to me and I'm so confused. I thought… I thought I was aromantic, but all of a sudden I just can't help but look at vem." He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "Ve's avoiding me because I rejected vem, except I don't know what my feelings for vem are anymore."

Ae sat down on the bed next to him. "Okay, first off, if you're aromantic, that's great. If you're not, then that's fine too. I can't tell you what you feel, but I can sympathize. Do you remember at the end of elementary and during the beginning of middle school, I kept clinging onto Keefe?"

He nodded.

"Well, I thought I had a crush on him."

"Wait, really?" That was something he didn't know.

"I know better now, I was just admiring someone who I thought was cool and was also pretty. That sounds like a crush to you, doesn't it?"

He nodded slowly.

"Well, it wasn't," she stated. "There's more to a crush than just thinking someone is pretty, otherwise, I'd be crushing on half the school. There's this… feeling inside of you, you feel warm and fuzzy. You find yourself wanting to be with them often, you want to go outside and explore the world with them. You might want to be closer with them than anyone else. That's how I've felt."

He considered that, then tried to compare it to what he'd been feeling.

"It's… similar, I think," he explained. "I like being with vem, and I regret choosing to ignore vem at first. I wish that we could've grown closer before." He closed his eyes, and pictured vem, sitting next to him, their hands linked.

He felt warmth, before it faded into confusion. Biana's explanation seemed right, but he felt like there was something that he was missing.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Since it was summer vacation, it meant that Fitz didn't have to go to school every day and see Dex. While they had hangouts often, Dex often had to babysit vis younger siblings, so he didn't see vem too often.

It was probably a good thing, it meant that he could try and figure out his feelings, without the source of said feelings being around to make everything complicated. (Though, it wasn't really working). At least though, he could figure out how to make things less awkward, because the others were starting to notice something was going on, and he didn't want to be the reason that the atmosphere wasn't pleasant.

He spent a lot of his free time playing the piano. He'd been doing less of it lately, but once he'd started playing not as an obligation, but because he wanted to, he found that playing it was a good stress reliever. He could immerse himself in the light sounds of the piano, distract himself from all the confusion he felt.

Sometimes though, when he played the piano, he thought of the songs that he often heard- whether from school or just Biana- and murmured the lyrics. He tried playing the songs that he knew were about romance, because maybe he could figure out how he felt about the experiences that other people had.

He was still conflicted though. Some songs it seemed like the person was oddly possessive over the one that they loved, the feeling of love so strong and intense and suffocating. Whatever he felt towards Dex was strong, but not like that. Other songs were a lot more casual, talking about how the warmth that came from being with the one you loved.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He really hoped he could find an answer, and soon.

•~•~•~•~•~•

While he had no answer, interactions with Dex did become easier. He wasn't sure if it was because he was getting used to what he was feeling, was coming closer to figuring it out, or he was just getting better at suppressing his feelings.

The next year of school had started, and it meant a new play for the drama club. Both him and Dex joined the club, just like the previous year.

Most of the other playwrights were people he was familiar with from the previous year, but there was a new face. This year, they agreed on something less realistic- superheroes. It was interesting to see how the story evolved, from a joke about the main character "Grey" being morally grey, to adding two antagonists with strong superpowers, which then ended up focusing less on the main character, but more between the relationship between two siblings. It was absolutely incredible to see what they were able to come up with.

Coming up with a plot was only the beginning though, but this time, he had more experience writing, so he was able to contribute even more to the story.

Writing the dialogue could be difficult sometimes, as some of the lines felt too dramatic, or not emotional enough. He tried saying them out loud, but he wasn't that good at voice acting, so he sounded too robotic for his liking.

"It sounds like you're writing something for the play," Dex said during one lunch. "Do you want me to say it out loud for you?"

Fitz was surprised by the offer. Whole they were talking more, it was usually in a group. So for Dex to be coming to him, it meant that their friendship could be better.

"That would be nice, thank you. I'm trying to write a monologue about the mayor, addressing the people about how his sister betrayed him and has been working for the rebels. But right before that, it's his reaction to the betrayal."

"Is he angry, or more sad?"

"Bit of both, and then when he makes his speech to the audience he reveals an invention that'd be used to stop the rebels, so while he's calm, he should also sound vaguely menacing."

"Is the mayor the villain?"

"It's complicated. The mayor's sibling has superpowers, while he doesn't. He fears that the powers are going to cause him to lose his status, so he creates laws that impact people with powers. Those people then rebel so they can have proper rights, sometimes violently, which to the mayor, proves that people with powers are a threat. The mayor also has been looking into an invention that can get rid of powers, because he wants to "cure" his sibling."

"He does awful things for the sake of love," Dex guessed.

"Exactly. Oh, here"--he turned his phone screen so ve could see the screen--"the script is here for you to read."

Ve started off murmuring, trying to get a feel for the scene. As ve re-read the scene over and over again, ve spoke louder, emotion seeping into vis tone.

"Thank you Dex," he said, after it was over. "That helped a lot.

"No problem. It was fun."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period.

"I've got to head to class now, see you later!" Without thinking, Fitz leaned towards vem, before he realized what he was doing.

Was I about to kiss vem on the cheek?

He couldn't tell if it was just instinct- he always kissed his mom on the cheek if either of them had to go somewhere- or if he genuinely wanted to show affection like that.

He abruptly turned away and quickly left, not daring to look back and see if ve had noticed or not.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It turned out that Dex hadn't noticed the almost-cheek-kiss, and Fitz was relieved. But it did get him thinking. If he and Dex were to date, would he be comfortable with kissing vem on the lips? He knew that for the most part, kissing was common in romantic relationships. After a few moments of thinking, he decided that he didn't want that.

It wasn't like a switch had been flipped (he knew that kissing wasn't required in romantic relationships), he did finally begin to have his answer.

His hangouts with Dex slowly began to go back to normal, as they fell back into the dynamic from before the confession. Except this time, there was less blushing and being embarrassed, because this time, there wasn't a crush to hide.

Sometimes Dex acted out the scenes he helped write. They didn't do that too often though, since Dex was going to audition, and ve didn't want to have any sort of advantage.

It felt nice to be with Dex, it was comforting and fun. When he tried imagining Dex dating someone, he found that he didn't mind that too much, as long as they'd be able to hang out together (he was annoyed by the fact that he hadn't tried to imagine that earlier).

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey, Dex," Fitz called out. "About the confession…" Despite having his answer, he was a little nervous, because neither of them had actually ever discussed the confession or the aftermath.

Dex blinked, then pursed vis lips. "What about it?"

"I know I did already reject you, but well, you know about the stuff after… I was confused. Because I like being with you, and I'll admit, you look beautiful, but I'd been unable to actually figure out if it was romantic attraction or not. It wasn't, so here's my official rejection. Hope it doesn't change anything between us again."

There was a pause, then ve snorted. "You do know that you already rejected me, right? I mean, I get what you're saying, but I've been working to get over you. Hasn't quite worked yet, but I'm not devastated or anything."

"That's good, I feel better about this."

"Your explanation also makes sense, I mean, it took me forever to realize that I don't like girls. Attraction is confusing."

Fitz laughed. "You can say that again. I'm aromantic, but I think part of the confusion is that I like the idea of romance."

"So when you have someone confess to you," ve continued. "You're wondering if you should have accepted the confession."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"And we'll continue to stay as friends, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan."

He could always figure out more of the details later.

•~•~•~•~•~•

With everything settled, Fitz and Dex grew closer. Auditions for the play drew near, and the actors were instructed to think about who they were going to be playing.

"I kinda want to play the mayor?" Dex said. "I mean, I've seen very small bits of the dialogue from other characters, but I did have fun doing that monologue the first time."

"You should do it then," Fitz told vem.

"Yeah but… it's a more major role, and I'm scared of messing it up. I haven't really had much experience in the main cast, let alone as an antagonist."

"I'm sure you could do it," Fitz said, putting his hands on vis shoulders. "Your acting helped me, and I'm proud of how far you've come. Worst case scenario, you don't get the role, but you know how nice our teacher is."

"She is nice," ve agreed.

"So you know she won't be harsh."

"I guess, yeah."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The scene that had been used for the audition wasn't one that Dex had read, which made Fitz feel a little bit better, because the last thing that he wanted was for vem to make it because of an unfair advantage. He knew that ve'd feel guilty about it.

The scene was when the mayor's sister left to secretly join one of the rebel meetings, and then he talked to himself about how much he hated the rebels and how he was going to make sure that his citizens would be protected from those who had superpowers.

The edge in Dex's tone was similar to how Fitz had imagined the mayor to sound like- sweet, but it was clear that the mayor was menacing. The reasoning was somewhat noble, to protect the citizens, but what wasn't considered was that people with superpowers were human too. The mayor was the one who ended up causing damage, while trying to stop the damage from happening.

He thought about the ending, and wondered how it would look like for Dex (or another actor) to perform during the end, when everything that the mayor had done led to the deaths of his sister and his friend (well technically, the friend actually lived, but at the time, he didn't know that). The mayor would go through a revelation that everything he was doing was wrong, and he needed to fix everything.

The actors who were auditioning all seemed capable of performing the role well, and Fitz wondered who would make it.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Dex managed to get the role of the mayor, and just like the previous year, Dex often practiced in front of him. Without the fear of crushes, it meant that ve was significantly more comfortable, and ve was able to do a better job.

There were points when ve got nervous, but Fitz was there to help encourage them. And despite the fact that he'd done this before, he watched vem practice in awe, because he still couldn't believe that he was able to watch this, watch someone put so much passion into acting out something he helped to write.

It felt like all of these emotions were contagious, because sometimes, it almost felt like he could feel Dex's own emotions. When ve did the monologue about being betrayed, he could feel that heartbreak and anger.

Or if Fitz was in a good mood, it spread to Dex, vis voice would sound just a little bit lighter, and during their group hangouts, ve'd talk a little bit more than usual.

The opposite applied too- sometimes Dex came to school, angry at vis siblings. While Fitz wouldn't feel irritated, necessarily, but he did find himself needing a little more quiet.

Fitz wondered if that was just them being in tune with each other, or if it was the work of something more. (In his first year, he'd joined the strings ensemble to play the piano part, and had witnessed Keefe and Tam's rivalry, but nobody could deny that when it was time to be serious, they played really well. While neither of them had found their soulmate, he wouldn't be surprised if they were.)

No matter what it was though, he knew that he was glad that he made the decision to befriend Dex.

•~•~•~•~•~•

During some of their free time, Fitz and Dex would hang out in his room and watch tv. Ever since all of this, he found himself focusing more on the writing when it came to the shows.

Sometimes what they watched was simple, others weren't. Some were cartoons, and some were play adaptations to some of the shows he'd watched before.

"Do you ever think about what you'll be doing in the future?" Fitz asked.

Dex nodded. "Yeah. It's hard to imagine it, though. Is there anything you want to do in the future?"

Fitz laid down against the bed they were sitting on. "I don't know, really. I mean, I think writing would be fun. If I got to write a play adaptation to a TV show I liked, I'd be really happy with that."

Ve hummed, laying down next to him. "You can try going for it. I think you'd do well. I know you didn't write the entirety of the plays, but they were fun to act out."

"Maybe. I guess we'll see. What about you?"

"I think voice acting would be fun. I could do stuff for animation, it seems less stressful than doing something live action. Then again, I don't really know yet."

"I think you'd do a good job," he said, before he linked their fingers together.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I feel so weird," Dex said.

"Can you describe it?"

"I feel anxious, we're presenting the play in just a few hours, but part of me doesn't feel that scared, and that just makes me more worried."

"The dress rehearsal and the one we presented at school were great," he assured. "Don't you remember the applause?"

"That's different. I know we've done this before, but like, we only won one award last year when there were a crap ton of them. I don't want to be the reason why we don't advance in the competition this year either."

"We'll do our best, okay? You can do that much, right?" He asked, gently grabbing one of vis hands.

Ve nodded, determination flashing in vis eyes. "Okay, we'll do our best."

•~•~•~•~•~•

Their play began, and it was going incredibly well- it felt like everyone was performing even better than usual. While he really liked the comedic play from the previous year, the lighting, special effects, and the emotional speeches made the play feel better in terms of quality.

It neared the end- when the mayor was about to learn that his friend was alive. But as Dex spoke, Fitz noticed that something was off. Ve performed fine, but one of vis lines was slightly wrong. Ve must have noticed, because as ve crouched down, ve froze, vis eyes darting side to side. Ve picked up the hand of the "dead body", vis breaths visible.

From far away, it could have been interpreted as disbelief, that maybe the character was noticing something. But Fitz knew that wasn't the case, and even he began to feel nervous.

Ve had started to panic a lot less with all the practice, but that didn't mean that vis stage fright didn't disappear.

Dex, I know you can do it. I believe in you. Just get through this ending, and it'll be over. You can do it.

That nervous feeling that he'd felt disappeared in an instant. For a few moments, he felt nothing. Then there was shock, so overwhelming that for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

Dex spoke, vis lines delivered without any stutter, and there was so much happiness in vis tone, more than Fitz had heard in a while. There was that breathless sort of relief, which mainly came from receiving good news after a long time. There was no way that it could be faked so easily. Especially not when ve had been panicking just moments ago.

Fitz smiled at vem, those same emotions that Dex was feeling could be felt by him too. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, Fitz was glad that it had happened.

When ve walked off stage after the last few scenes were over, he heard a voice in his mind.

Wonderboy, did you know that we're soulmates?

It was Dex's voice, but ve was nowhere near hi-

He caught on to that last word. Soulmates. Soulmates. That word repeated in his brain.

Yeah, soulmates. It shocked me, but not so much the soulmates part but more the "your voice is in my brain" part. How do you feel about all of this?

Despite being a writer, he had no words to explain how he felt. He was elated, happy, but none of those words felt like it did justice.

Okay, I think I can tell. Just know that I'm happy you're my soulmate too. Also, you might wanna get up on stage to bow, we can talk later.

Fitz stood up quickly, not realizing that the others were getting up. Yeah, we'll do that.

The festival itself wasn't that long, and their school was one of the later schools to present, but still, it felt like such a long time away. He had to actively concentrate on the other plays, otherwise he was going to get lost in thought, or end up spending the entire time mentally communicating with Dex.

Finally though, it ended, and once they were dropped back at school, they started their walk home together.

"Are you shocked that we're soulmates?" Dex asked.

"Not really. You and I have gotten really close over these two years, I don't think I can imagine my soulmate being anyone else," he replied. "Though I do still think that part of me is processing."

Ve snorted. "That reveal literally snapped me out of my spiraling. If you think you had no time to process it, imagine being on stage and there's just a voice. I'm lucky I didn't jump in shock, and managed to get through the rest of that."

"Oh, yeah, that would be something that would scare me. But I think we should talk about what comes next."

"We already decided that we aren't gonna date," Dex told him.

He nodded. "And I've thought about this for a while, but I do want to stay close with you. With the knowledge that you're my soulmate, that makes me want it more. I don't know what exactly either of our stories will be like in the future, but I want you to be one of the main characters in my story."

Dex looked down, vis face flushing red. "You- you're such a dork, you know that? How do you say something so cheesy? But… I can agree too."

Fitz felt his own face heating up a little bit, and was glad that his skin was dark enough for it to not show. It did sound a little cheesy.

"At least we have that much settled. Our stories are still in progress, so we can always wait before adding more plot points."

Ve laughed. "You make it sound so dramatic."

"I'm a writer!"

•~•~•~•~•~•

"So you look happy," Biana remarked as he entered the living room that same night. "I think you somehow look happier than you did last year."

He could still feel the smile on his face. "Dex is my soulmate."

"Wait, really? That's so cool! What happened?"

Fitz recounted the events, then began to describe how it felt. He was sort of able to feel those emotions before he realized, but once the bond was truly established, he was conscious of Dex's emotions, and the other way around. Every once in a while, he could hear Dex's voice in his mind.

"That's amazing!" Ae squealed. "Do you think that either Sophie or Linh could end up as my soulmate? That would be so cool! Even if neither of them aren't, I could see if my soulmate would join the polycule. Even if they don't, I'd be fine with that."

"Both of them could be your soulmates," he said.

"They could," she agreed. "But you know that multiple soulmates are super rare. I'd be so happy if they were both my soulmates though."

"I guess you'd just have to wait and see," he said. "Just like I did."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I hope our school advances this time!" Dex whispered to him, as they sat down to watch the award ceremony for the plays.

It turned out that the play didn't manage to make it past the district showcase, but it wasn't too saddening. They could definitely understand why some of the other schools had managed to make it.

But just because they didn't make it past the round didn't mean that there weren't awards to be given. The director of their play won an award- and Fitz agreed with that decision. They had done a really good job with everything, including the choreographing of the superpowers.

The other award that their school received was one that Fitz was not surprised about. The award was for an actor and their talents, and he was proud as Dex walked onto the stage to receive the certificate.

I can't believe this is happening! Dex said.

I can, he replied. You did such a good job.

For the rest of that evening, neither of them stopped smiling.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Hey Dex, can you come act out this part?" Fitz called out.

When there was no reply, he called out for vem mentally. Dex, can you act out a part I'm writing please?

The door to the other bedroom opened, and ve walked into his room. "Sorry, was listening to music."

"That's fine."

"Which part do you want me to act out?"

He turned the laptop screen around so ve could read.

"Broken Harmony, right?" Ve asked.

He nodded. Then he watched as vis posture changed, vis face wearing a cocky grin that resembled Keefe's. When he'd first seen the look, he'd thought that it looked odd on vem, but over the years, he learned more and more about vem. Plus, ve had become a voice actor, and had taken on various roles.

Ve recited the dialogue, and from there, Fitz was able to continue the conversation.

"Thank you," he said out of habit, even though at this point, it was something ve would do everything ve was asked.

Ve smiled. "I'll be back in my room if you need me, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Love you."

"Love you too."

•~•~•~•~•~•

I don't leave many notes in the end but that scene where Fitz almost kisses vem on the cheek instinctively is actually something that's happened to me when I was questioning whether I was crushing on my friend or not (it was so embarrassing when I realized. I was in front of multiple people too, so I'm relieved that nobody noticed). Idk why I've decided to share this now, but as I said, I projected a lot onto Fitz this time

Kotlc taglist: @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath

Want to be added/removed from the kotlc masterlist? Just let me know!

[wordsandshawn]

Secret | Part 1 | #ShawnMendesWritingCircle

A/N: I’m so excited to get to be a part of this writing circle. Thank you @saysweartogod-og​ for coming up with this amazing idea. This fic is a little spin off of a secret billionaire trope, and I can honestly say I’m so excited to see where some of the amazing writers participating in this decide to take it. I hope you enjoy this first chapter, and feel free to send feedback or thoughts about the chapter and where you think it might go, because my guess is as good as yours, and I’d love to talk about it! 

WC: 2.6K

~

From the moment you met Shawn six months ago, you knew that letting yourself get involved with him was a bad idea. It took you about three seconds to come up with a handful of reasons why you could never let yourself fall for him, but it only took him one night to make you forget them all.

You stepped into his condo, spotted him, and knew who he was immediately before the words, “Hey, I’m Shawn,” Even fell from his lips. You told yourself you’d never come back here before you spoke a single word to him. You also vowed to kill Brian and Alicia the second you got them alone.

Brian is dating your roommate, which is how you wound up here in the first place. Alicia knows you rarely ever go out because you’re either working or studying, so when she found out you weren’t working for the first time on a Friday night, she practically begged you to come with her. She said she was meeting some of Brian’s friends for the first time and didn’t want to be alone. Despite you telling her that she’d obviously have Brian there, she refused to give up, and finally, you reluctantly agreed to go. You had no idea that Brian’s “friend” was Shawn Mendes.

At first, your only focus was getting through the party and out of the condo without anyone posting a photo of you online, knowing that photo would be circulated within minutes if it had Shawn in it too, and that’s the last thing you’d want. You didn’t expect it to be too difficult to avoid being in a photo with Shawn considering the condo was not small by any means, and there’s no reason for him to take any type of notice of you.

Even though you regretted accepting the invitation, you still decided to make the most of the night. Since you rarely let yourself go out, you were determined to enjoy the one night you had. You’re still nursing your first drink, despite it already being warm. As time passes, you watch as everyone around you becomes more and more inebriated. Phones are out, as they often are at parties like these, and you’re tired of hiding in the darkest corner you could find, so you slip outside. You’re not outside for even five minutes before you hear the sliding door open, the music drifting out from inside.

“Y/n, right?” Shawn questions, stepping outside, and you try to hide the shock on your face over the fact that he remembered your name.

“Mhmm,” You respond intentionally looking away from him.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks, taking the spot beside you by the railing so the two of you are standing shoulder to shoulder, except his shoulder is about five inches above yours.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You respond, not wanting to give him the real answer to that question.

“They’re all taking a lot of pictures in there.” He says, as though that’s an answer to the question, but it’s not.

“It’s your party, why wouldn’t you want to be in the pictures?” You question, surprised. You know why you don’t want to be in them, but you can’t seem to fathom why he wouldn’t want to be in pictures with his friends at his own place.

“Don’t want people to know where I am,” He says with a shrug. “What about you, why’d you slip out just now?” He asks again since you avoided the question the first time.

“Needed some air,” You lie, keeping your eyes trained on the city lights.

He doesn’t press the topic anymore. You’re expecting him to wander away, back inside to the party, but he doesn’t. Shawn asks about how you know Brian and you explain that he’s dating your roommate. To be polite, you ask him the same question and he shares that they met when they were six and on the same soccer team. For some reason, conversation comes easy with him, and you almost let your guard down. Almost.

After a talking for a while, he asks, “Can I get your Instagram?”

Suddenly you remember the promise you made to yourself earlier. “I don’t have one.” You say before slipping past him and heading back inside in search of the bathroom. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s wearing a perplexed look. When people hear you don’t have an Instagram, they look at you like you’re from outer space. That’s how ridiculous they think it is, and then they think you’re lying because you’re not into them. Even though you’re not lying, you never really cared if that’s what they thought.

By the end of the night, you’re just glad to make it out of there. Alicia is drunk enough that you drive her car back to your apartment, and the whole time, she’s mumbling about how she thinks Shawn likes you and about how Brian told her that he thinks you two would be good together. You tell her she’s talking nonsense, and Shawn would never like you like that, but deep down, you knew you already liked Shawn more than you would want to admit.

Brian gave Shawn your number, and you texted for two months before moving beyond friendship, even though you both knew it was heading in that direction from the very beginning. It took that long for you to finally be convinced that he was a safe person to be with. Shawn knew from the very beginning, before you even got together, that you did not want to go public with the relationship. He knew that you were completely off of social media, so it made sense that you wanted to keep your life private, and he agreed that it would be for the best. 

Even after you got together, he was rarely ever in Toronto. He was busy traveling for work, and you were busy with work and Uni, so it was mostly a long distance relationship with a lot of texting and facetiming, but you’ve managed to make it work and treasure the small amounts of time you have together. 

Shawn’s finally back in town, and you spent most of the day lazily hanging out. When night hit, a bunch of Shawn’s friends came over, including Brian and Alicia. This party feels a lot different from the last one. In that one, you were keeping to yourself, mostly in the corner or outside. Tonight, you feel like you can let your guard down, at least a little bit. Shawn had made it clear that his friends couldn’t post any pictures with him in them because he was supposed to be in Miami and his management would basically kill him if it got out he slipped away to come home to Toronto. Shawn was determined to come home for the weekend. He missed you, so he made a promise to his management that no one would find out he was here.

It worked out better for you because you felt like you were safe from worrying about pictures posted online. What you didn’t realize was that his friends never promised not to post pictures at all, just that they wouldn’t post pictures of Shawn. You’re standing around the kitchen island, laughing about something Alicia is saying when you spot Brian looking down at his phone. Out of curiosity, your eyes fall on his screen to see you and Alicia. He clicks post before you have a chance to say anything. In a second, you’re standing in front of him. “Hey, what did you just post?” You ask him.

“Don’t worry, it’s a nice picture.” He says, shrugging.

“Brian, delete it.” You say. He’s already drunk, and you’re starting to wish you had more than one drink because of the anxiety raising up within you. “Please, you have to delete that. Delete it right now, please.” You swallow your anxiety and fear, trying to keep your emotions from getting the better of you. It’s only now that you realize that you were basically screaming, and all the other conversations going on stopped because everyone is focused on you.

“Chill,” Brian says, but when you make it clear that you’re serious, he finally concedes. “Fine.” He deletes it, showing you his phone as he does so.

“Thanks,” You mumble before pushing past everyone still standing around staring at you and disappearing into Shawn’s room, slamming the door behind you. You pace across the room a couple of times before you hear a knock on the door.

You don’t say anything or make a move to open it. You’re still trying to calm your breathing and remind yourself that nothing happened. The picture was only up for no more than a few minutes. Everything’s okay, and you’re just being paranoid, at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

The door opens, and you turn to see who it is. Shawn’s standing in the doorway, questions swimming in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask any of them right away. You sit down on the bed, taking a deep breath, readying yourself to face him. He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “You okay?” He asks.

You swallow hard to keep your emotions down, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry about that.” You nod toward the door, but you don’t offer an explanation.

Shawn takes a seat next to you, “That wasn’t just about us keeping our relationship a secret, was it?” He questions softly. He’s putting the pieces together. Shawn wasn’t even in the Instagram story, and even though you know Shawn’s fans keep track of his every move and watch all of his friend’s stuff, you’re not delusional enough to think that if you’re in one story everyone will know about you and Shawn. But as soon as you realized that Shawn’s friends get tens of thousands of views on their stories, it worried you. You’re worried that someone would see it, someone who you didn’t want to see it.

“I’m sorry I freaked out.” You respond. “But you should get back to your friends. I think I’m just going to go.” You say, starting to stand up.

Shawn reaches out for you, taking your hand in his. “Please don’t go.” He says. “I just want to know what’s going on with you. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He seems concerned. Even though you’ve only known him for a couple of months, you already trust Shawn more than you’ve trusted anyone else. But with all of his friends here, along with knowing he’s already had a few drinks, you know now’s not the time to talk about this.

“I really think I should go. I’ll see you later, okay?” Shawn doesn’t try to stop you again. He’s already made it clear that he wants you to stay, but if you want to go, he’ll let you.

You get into your car and drive back to your apartment. When you arrive, you see that Shawn has texted you a few times. He asks you to text him when you get home safely. He also lets you know that if you want to talk about what happened, he’s there.

You text him back, letting him know you made it home, but you don’t say anything about the picture. After replying to Shawn, you turn off your phone and get ready for bed, trying to fall asleep before you worry yourself sick.

The next morning, when you wake up, you’re surprised that you don’t see a message from Shawn. He must still be sleeping, you think to yourself before getting out of bed. After brushing your teeth and putting your contacts in, you start walking toward the kitchen in search of breakfast. You stop short as soon as you step out of the hallway because you see Shawn sitting at your dining room table. He looks up from his phone when he sees you.

“Hey, Alicia let me in.” He explains before nodding toward the donuts, “I brought donuts.”

“Thanks,” You whisper, pulling out a seat and sitting down.

“Can we talk about last night?” He asks, hesitantly.

You knew that you would have to tell him sometime, but you were hoping you could avoid it for at least a little while longer.

“My dad’s really,” You pause, searching for the right word, finally saying, “Controlling.”

Shawn’s eyebrows knit together, and he watches you closely. He doesn’t know where this conversation is going, and you don’t blame him.

“Both of my parents wanted me to go into the family business, but I didn’t want to. They didn’t want to hear it or even consider letting me do anything else. When I turned eighteen, I left. I got a scholarship to a university they never knew I applied to. I deleted all my social media’s and I moved away.” You haven’t spoken those words aloud to anyone, ever, and you didn’t realize they would be so difficult to say.

“You ran away?” Shawn questions, his voice barely above a whisper, and you know that he’s just trying to wrap his mind around all of it. It’s a lot, so you don’t blame him.

“I’m not a teenaged runaway. I’m not a missing person.” You respond, knowing how it sounds. “I was eighteen. I told them I was moving away to go to University. I just didn’t tell them which one because I didn’t want them to just show up or think they could buy their way back into my life. I needed to do it on my own.”

He’s not quite understanding how you could just cut your family out of your life, and you know it’s a difficult concept. “Buy their way in?” He asks.

“Yeah, knowing my dad, he’d do something like buy a building on campus or something and then make a whole show of dedicating and opening it, or find some way to show up and manipulate their way back into my life, and I just didn’t want that.”

“So, what does your dad do?”

“You ever heard of Ardes Corp.” Shawn’s eyes widen. Everyone’s heard of Ardes Corp. “My real name is Y/n Ardes. I started using my middle name as my last name, so people wouldn’t know.”

“Okay, but why go through all these lengths to still not be found by them? You clearly did it all on your own, putting yourself through Uni and everything. Why would it matter if they saw a picture of you online?”

“You know how I said I told them I was leaving, so I didn’t just run away?”

“Yeah?”

“Well it wasn’t the best conversation. They kind of disowned me, and I kind of don’t want them to find me and confront me or tell me I’m living my life wrong or do whatever they might do if they change my mind and try to drag me back home.” That may not be the full story, but you think it’ll be at least enough to satisfy Shawn for the time being.

When he nods, and hands you a napkin, you take it gratefully.

“I guess that’s why you won’t even step outside with me, huh?” He questions, opening the box of donuts.

You bite your lip, meeting his eyes and nodding.

He nods back, a silent understanding passes between the two of you. Even though you just threw a lot of information about your past at him, he doesn’t seem to be put off by it, instead, he took it all in stride.

“Thanks for buying the donuts.” You say, as he motions for you to choose first.

“You’re welcome.” He says with a smile.

You choose the twist and Shawn takes one with chocolate on it, and the two of you eat in comfortable silence. You have no doubt that Shawn has more questions, and there’s a lot more that he deserves to know, but he’s only here for another day, and you’d much rather focus on this delicious donut and the idea of some quality time alone with your boyfriend instead of rehashing your past.  

[notnctu]

both sides - k.jw

shyboy!jungwoo x fuckgirl!y.n warnings: mentions of alcohol, hooking up and swearing summary: relationship (n) - the way in which two or more concepts, objects, or people are connected, or the state of being connected. In this video, two people in some sort of relationship take turns answering questions about their relationship while the other person cannot hear any of their answers.

a.n: hi i am author xuxi ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ and this is like a small script scenario that was inspired by @mistymark​‘s the one with the ex boyfriend series and by jubilee’s youtube series called both sides. i rlly hope you enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it :)

[In the frame, there were two empty chairs. In between them was a small coffee table with one set of large earphones and earplugs. The only thing that could be heard in the first few seconds of the video is the creaking of a large metal door and light footsteps.]  

-

[Y.n opens the door and holds it for Jungwoo to follow behind her. As they weave through the cameras and lights to get to the set, y.n suddenly gets shoved in front of the camera, a small ‘oof’ heard behind her. When she turns around, she erupts into laughter as Jungwoo starts hopping into the frame, wires tangled around one of his ankles. The scene then cuts to her sitting in the chair, laughing so hard she’s holding her stomach as one of the set employees unwraps the wires from a blushing Jungwoo]

Introduction

Y.n, confidently: Hi, I’m y.n and I’ve been dating this clumsy man for a little over two years now

Jungwoo nervously rubs his hands on his thighs: Hi I am clumsy man Jungwoo who has been dating this amazing and beautiful y.n for about 118 weeks.

Y.n, teasing him: I didn’t know that converting the years into weeks was part of your engineering degree.

Jungwoo: See guys, you gotta do that math in the relationship, helps make her think that you’re good at math and will be rich in the future so she’ll never leave you.

[Y.n starts laughing again and Jungwoo only stares in awe at his girlfriend, he could never stop himself from admiring her beautiful laugh.]

-

[Jungwoo hands the headphones and earplugs to her immediately, she nods in a pleasure shock]

Y.n: Wow, never in my life did I think that you would volunteer to say something first.

Jungwoo with his little silly side smirk: Maybe I’m feeling extra brave today, the effect that the y.n has on me.

[She laughs again, as if every little thing Jungwoo does makes her the happiest person in the world, it’s one of the only things that Jungwoo takes pride in as seen when the camera zooms into his small smile while he watches her slip the headphones on]

Y.n, loudly: Do I look ugly with this on?

[Jungwoo leans forward and pulls out small strands of her hair that were stuck behind the band of the headphones. He then pulls her longer strands from behind her shoulders to rest in front of her chest.]

Jungwoo: Not anymore, you looked a little bald at first.

Y.n, her lips falling to a frown: Did you just call me bald?

Jungwoo: Yea Caillou. Bald.

How did you two meet?

His side

Jungwoo, laughing: I mean, the very first time I saw her was at a frat party, and she still does not know anything about this. In fact, I haven’t really told anyone about this except Lucas, but basically it was at his party and she was totally blacking out. Oh, and I already knew who she was too.

[He pauses, lips pursued,  finding the best words to describe the situation]

Jungwoo: Let’s just say - she’s a social butterfly, quite popular. But basically, she had been shoved and I just happened to catch her. I shit you not, she looked me dead in the eyes and said ‘you better not kiss me’ with the most drunk yet devious smile I’ve ever seen.

[He laughs at the memory nostalgically. Never in his life did he think that one of his fondest memories would be at a frat party. Y.n is obviously confused.]

Jungwoo, his gaze soaks all of her in, completely smitten by her: Looking back at it, I totally shouldn’t have saved her ass, she probably deserved to eat shit.

Y.n, eyes still clearly lost: What are you talking about?

Jungwoo, though blushing, was still able to say in a high pitched mocking tone: None of your beeswax!

Her side

[Y.n hands him the headset and earplugs, she starts rubbing her ears]

Jungwoo: It’s loud isn’t it?

Y.n: Yea, but nothing will ever be as loud as your high pitched screams when you get scared.

[He rolls his eyes as she flashes her small mischievous grin, putting the earphones over his ears.]

Y.n: Uhm, honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if we met at one of our mutual’s countless frat parties. But if we did meet there, there’s no way I’d remember.

Y.n, smiling fondly: But the very first time that I really met him face to face, and sober might I add, was when I bumped into him and Lucas on campus. Lucas invited him to his party, of course, that night and said something like ‘Jungwoo is gonna be there! You gotta go cause he never goes to my parties!” so I really had to directly look at him and I was thinking like ‘wow, they’re complete opposites’ because at the time, I had never seen him before.

Both sides

[Jungwoo places the two accessories onto the table, his eyes wide with curiosity.]

Jungwoo: Tell me what you said, I wanna know what you think our first meeting was.

Y.n, raising a brow: Think? So we totally met at a party once huh?

[Jungwoo just slyly smirks at her, remembering how sharp y.n always was. He nods his head, motioning her to continue.]

Y.n: I talked about when Lucas and you bumped into me on campus, and he invited me to one of his parties.

Jungwoo jumps a little in his chair, excited that he remembered that moment: Oh my god yea! That was our first time meeting sober.

Y.n: Yea, and I was thinking like, oh my gosh, they’re complete opposites.

Jungwoo sighs: I get it, I’m not as tall, as buff, as handsome or as cool as Lucas Wong. He’s only friends with me because we were roommates back in first year.

Y.n: Not even, Lucas loves you, he follows you like a lost puppy all the time. Also you don’t want to be Lucas, he’s kind of a, ya know-

Jungwoo: A douche.

[They snicker, but then suddenly, y.n stops and look directly at Jungwoo]

Y.n: Wait, what happened at the party when we first met?

Jungwoo: I mean, I just talked about how you were making out wi-

Y.n sighs into her hands, cringing: Oh my gosh, don’t bring up my past. 

[Jungwoo turn to the camera, a hand blocking the sight of his devilish grin from his girlfriend, and mouths to the camera with the subtitles assisting the watchers at the bottom of screen]

Jungwoo, his mouth exaggerating each word: She used to be a fuck girl

[Jungwoo never says his real answer, he’s always been too shy to admit that he was drawn to her since that very first night and that Lucas bumping into her that random day was staged.]

How was your first kiss?

Her side

[She immediately groans into her hands, her legs dramatically stretch out as she slips down the back of her chair, clearly disliking the memory. Jungwoo’s eyebrow’s furrow in animated confusion. What could’ve possibly made her this embarrassed again? Her pink ears make release a baffled laugh, shocked by her sudden outburst.]

Y.n, still hiding behind her hands: It was so strange. I never felt nervous to kiss someone before, nor did I ever kiss someone without it leading to a hook up. It was also in the trunk of his hatchback, we were watching the stars at a look out point. Even the literal setting was something I wasn’t used to. 

[She looks at Jungwoo’s very concerned, confused, and focused face. She can tell that he is trying so hard to decipher what is making her so annoyed. She rolls her eyes, but a small smile peaks through as she looks at his very lost face.]

Y.n avoiding his eye contact: It was romantic. It was the first time I really felt like a kiss had some sort of meaning or feeling behind it.

His side

[Jungwoo bursts into laughter, knowing exactly why she reacted the way she did. He nervously rubs the back of his neck but the joy never left his eyes. She glares very intentionally at him with the look of ‘you better not say anything stupid or I’ll kill you’ being extremely prominent.]

Jungwoo:  For her, I’m sure it was a surprise, or a little bit weird, especially because it was me of all people in the world. Some dorky loser that wasn’t even one of her countless hot frat boys. I had never seen her so shy and hesitant, probably because the setting of the kiss was very different for her.

[He stares at her, as if waiting for her reaction, thinking that she might kill him once she hears his answer.]

Jungwoo: For me though, it was dreamy, almost like it came out of a movie, perfect.

Both sides

[Y.n buries her face into her sleeves as she takes off the headset and he laughs, remembering her first reaction. Needless to say, he is very amused by her distaste for the question.]

Jungwoo: I know, I really swept you off your feet that night.

Y.n: Shut up, it was only okay.

[Jungwoo is about to interject, but sees her stubbornly looking away with her pink cheeks and just happily sighs. He is satisfied that she’s still so embarrassed about it even two years after it happened,]

What have you learned from them?

[Jungwoo swings his legs from the chair as he calmly listens to the music. His eyes intently yet curiously looking at y.n as she clears her throat. Normally, she was good at hiding her feelings but anyone could see that she was a little overwhelmed by his gaze and the question.]

Her side

Y.n, her stare so affectionately bores into all of Jungwoo: So much. I don’t think this man knows how much he’s taught me in so many ways too, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and in math.

[She laughs, making Jungwoo release a slightly confused laugh. It was always one of his habits, laughing because everyone else did, even if his laugh came out due to awkwardness.]

Y.n: But I think one of the biggest things is that I don’t have to always be this bad bitch that is strong and independent.

[She pauses, maybe to stop the tears from slipping from her eyes as she still struggles to really comfortably talk about her emotions.]

Y.n, after taking a deep breath: He is probably one of the only people that’s ever really seen me cry. He made me realize that I don’t always have to push people away that care for me, that the walls I have do more hurt then protect.

Y.n: Whenever I push people away, or feel scared of people leaving me, he always tells me now that he’ll be my forever wall and I’m really thankful for that.

[She lets out a few sniffles in between her light airy giggles as she motions for Jungwoo to switch roles. He grabs her hand as she takes the set from him and squeeze her fingertips.]

Jungwoo: I would kiss your sniffles away, but you’re kinda far.

[She laughs her wholehearted laugh again and Jungwoo swears that the studio lights get brighter.]

His side

Jungwoo: Ah, this is easy. She always taught me to be more confident in myself. I mean for the longest time, actually, I still think this sometimes, I just always thought that she was out of my league. Just look at her, she’s hot, social, funny, daredevil, risk taker, intelligent, extremely thoughtful. She’s basically everything I’m not. I’m more shy, reserved and kind of weird.   

[He glances at her again and she suddenly sticks her tongue at him. He is surprised by the abrupt face and looks visibly offended and taken aback, causing her to laugh, which then follows with his laugh, still in a little disbelief by her surprise attack]

Jungwoo: See? This bitch is, fucking weird and amazing in all the best way possible. But she reminds me everyday, that I actually am kinda cool? She really brought me out of my shell and built my self confidence.

[He laughs again, mainly because he can’t take himself seriously. Y.n rolls her eyes]

Y.n to the camera: He’s being insecure again isn’t he? He is such a beautiful human being, can someone please tell him that for me?

Jungwoo huffs his bangs out of his eyes, jokingly pretending he’s annoyed but he’s definitely turning a little pink: She doesn’t care what anyone thinks. She just says it. As much as I don’t want to admit it, she has been a good influence, only in that sense.

[He sighs, thinking about her more bad ideas such as skipping class, drinking the nights away, running in the middle of the street. When he looks back up at her, she has the sweetest doe eyes that were only focused on him, as if she wanted to hear more of what he was saying, even though she couldn’t even hear him.]

Jungwoo, looking away: But yea, I guess what it all boils down to is that she really made me feel comfortable in my own skin. Plus she finds me genuinely funny, so now I guess I’m less afraid to make jokes and laugh with people rather than trying to stop myself from saying anything and looking around to check if anyone is looking at me weirdly.

Both sides

[After she removes the music, there is a brief silence. They both just look at each other with such warmth, that the people on set feel like they’re suddenly intruding.]

Y.n, hesitantly: I know that you were talking about how you think I’m out of your league.

Jungwoo crosses his arms: Maybe, don’t get cocky.

Y.n sighs heavily, annoyed: There are no such things as leagues, I like you, and only you because everything you do is what makes you, you. Therefore, I like every single thing, imperfections, perfections, giggles, jokes, faces - everything.

Jungwoo reaches over to grab her hand: Hey, thanks.

Y.n, confused: hm?

Jungwoo: Just, thanks for always being my number one supporter.

Y.n smiles: Always. Thank you for being mine too.

Jungwoo reflectng hers: Always.

[They stare for a small moment, their fingertips just barely grasping each other. Their eyes reflect the same glossy daze. The just immerse in all the feelings, words, and emotions floating in the air. They barely even reflected and discussed each other’s answers, but they just know, the love is there.]

That was the last question. Thank you so much for coming in today.

[They both get up from the chair. He brushes her cheeks and squishes them quickly as he leads them out of the frame.]

Jungwoo sighs: Man, I really thought I was gonna embarrass you more, but I guess I didn’t really have the chance.

Y.n, her voice distant: More? What did you already say?

Jungwoo, their steps clicking in sync: Oh, ya know that you were that hot bitch and that everyone wanted to get into your pants and somehow I got the honor to cuff you.

[A loud gasp is heard and a quick smack. The last thing heard is a small yelp and a light laugh as the camera is fading to black.]

[nikki-writes-stuff]

Chaser - Part One

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader, Gang Leader!Din Djarin x Bartender!Reader 

Summary: No one knows his name, and no one knows his face, but the man who leads one of the most powerful gangs in New York from behind an infamous mask is still feared throughout the city. You, on the other hand, are just a waitress at the club he owns, someone who’s only just barely dipped her toe into the treacherous water of New York’s underworld. But that doesn’t stop your boss from taking a liking to you, and if you weren’t so terrified of all that his attentions could mean for you, maybe you would notice that fear isn’t the only emotion your employer stirs up within you. 

A/N: Hello, everyone! I hope y’all enjoy this - the very first part to the very first fic I’ve ever written about The Mandalorian! Any and all feedback is appreciated - this is my first time writing for Din Djarinn, and even though my love for him is as deep and powerful as the Mississippi, I had some trouble finding his vibe while I was writing this. Let me know if I’m on the right track! (Also, if your name happens to be Rachelle, I apologize in advance. Please just...skip over a certain couple of lines in this story. You’ll know what I’m talking about towards the end.)

You could feel the throbbing of a quick, staccato bassline in your chest; you always could while you were working. The Boss liked the keep the music loud, and for good reason. It was the same reason why smoking was not only permitted but actively encouraged – the thick smoke and thumping music made it all the more difficult to hear and to see what happened in the dark corners of Club Razor Crest. Here, there were only two rules – don’t start shit, and keep your mask on. As long as they followed those two basic principles, the Boss’s patrons were welcome to conduct whatever business they saw fit in the crushed velvet booths and intentionally shadowed halls of his underworld playground.

With the tips of your red, glossy fingernails, you adjusted your mask now, pulling the plastic away from your heated skin by just a centimeter or two. You could have groaned from how good it felt to have cool, fresh air rush in to caress your sweaty forehead; after a week of working at the club, you’d definitely learned why anonymity was so important in a place like this, but you still dreaded putting the blasted thing on in the evenings before your shift.

Greta, one of the other girls who worked there, strutted past you, looking light as a feather as she waltzed around in her eight-inch heels with a tray of drinks balanced above her head. You, by contrast, knew that you had to look as clumsy as a newborn deer in your own stilettos; just like the mask, they were a mandatory part of your uniform that you still hadn’t gotten used to, and though Greta and the other girls had promised you that the constant pain in your feet would soon start to fade, your soles still ached painfully with every shift of your weight.

“Mask on,” your coworker whispered to you in passing. “Boss is here.”

You’d been just about to explain that you weren’t taking it off, that you’d just needed some air, but the words died on your lips when you heard the last part of her warning. Your spine straightened of its own accord, and the hand on your mask promptly fell down to hang by your waist. Scanning the space, you tried to make out the infamous man you’d heard so much about through the dim lighting and hazy air.

“Where?” you asked, but either she ignored you or just didn’t hear, because she kept on walking to her table without sparing you so much as another glance.

You gulped before stiffly making your way to the bar, slipping past the ‘Employees Only’ gate before gathering together the four glasses you’d need for your table’s order. You let your hands and body go on autopilot as you set about assembling their drinks; typically, the waitresses would just drop off their order slips to one of the bartenders and wait for them to make it, but you’d mentioned at your job interview that you had some bartending experience and didn’t mind helping out with the cocktail mixing.

From there, the head bartender, Quill, had sat at the bar and watched you make him an old fashioned right in the middle of your interview. With trembling hands, you’d done so, feeling the older man’s eyes on you all the while as he stroked his bushy white mustache. After one sip of it, he’d nodded his head, and you’d felt relief wash through you as he threw back the rest of the drink.

“You start on Monday,” was all he’d said.

Now, as you grabbed some triple sec from the top shelf, you caught a glimpse of him watching you out of the corner of your eye, and you turned to give him a smile. Quill had been working at Club Razor Crest for as long as anyone could remember, and he was the only person inside the building who didn’t wear a mask; evidently, him and the owner went way back. He was quiet – gruff, even – but for some reason you liked the grumpy older man. And, if you were correctly reading the gleam in his eyes as he looked at you from behind his thick, bushy white eyebrows, you thought that he’d taken a liking to you, too. Or, at least, to your old-fashioneds.

“How’s it going, Quill?” you asked, focusing once again on the long island iced tea you were making. “Busy night?”

You were expecting nothing more than a grunt in response; that was all most people got from him, and ever since he’d hired you, you hadn’t heard anything else, either. But instead, he opened his mouth to speak, only talking loud enough for you to just barely be able to hear him over the music.

“After you finish those drinks, leave ‘em here,” he instructed. “Boss just arrived with some of his friends, and he requested you to serve ‘em.”

You nearly dropped the bottle of rum in your hands, one that was worth more than an entire week’s worth of pay, and your hands scrambled to get a firmer grip on it. Shakily setting it down on the counter, you turned to Quill with wide eyes, your lips parted in shock.

“The Boss requested me to serve them?” Your voice was so high-pitched that it cracked as you said ‘me’, and you cleared your throat before trying once again. “Why does he want me? I’ve never even met him before.”

At that, Quill let out a sigh and turned to you, pursing his lips together until they almost disappeared under his large, unkempt mustache.

“…He likes old-fashioneds,” he shrugged, the corner of his lips jumping up so quickly that you almost missed the half-smile he’d given you. That would have been enough to perturb you for the rest of the evening; you hadn’t seen him smile at anyone after an entire week of working there – not even customers. But, as it was, nothing could cool the anxiety welling up in you as you finished making the rest of your drinks.

“I wonder where he heard about them,” you remarked, and you thought you caught Quill glance at you sheepishly in your peripheral vision.

Your eyes flitted over the room, looking for his booth; someone had said something to you on your first day about the table he kept reserved for himself and his ‘guests’, but you’d forgotten its location completely after the whirlwind of your first day at this new, bizarre job.

After finishing the four drinks and setting them on a tray, you turned towards Quill to ask where the Boss would be sitting. But, an idea stirred in your mind, and on impulse you grabbed a small glass before scanning the selection of bourbons and whiskeys the bar had to offer. Biting your lip, you felt eyes on the back of your head as you perused the different brands, but after settling on a good blend of the two, you turned around to find no one looking at you. Quill was busy taking some drunk guy’s order, and the other patrons at the bar were too busy with their own drinks or conversations to pay you any mind.

With a sigh, you shook off the strange feeling and assembled the rest of what you’d need for an old fashioned, hands moving on autopilot as you heard your dad’s voice in your ear. Make sure you only use enough bitters to saturate the sugar, you recalled him teaching you. Between four and six dashes should do the trick unless someone requests something different. Mix it with the sugar until it forms a slurry, and always add the ice in large chunks so it doesn’t get too watered down. Never overmix it once you add the spirits, just a few stirs before putting in a strip of lemon and orange peel.

Your fingers felt sticky as you snapped the citrus peels in half, spraying just a hint of their sweet oils overtop of the cocktail before rubbing them over the glass’s rim. After dropping them into the drink and mixing it one more time, you turned to see Quill watching you with one eyebrow raised.

“What? You said he likes old-fashioneds,” you shrugged. “Um… could you point me in the direction of his booth?”

Once more, he pursed his lips before pointing towards the far right corner of the room.

“It’s the only circular booth we have,” you heard him mutter as you walked away. “Can’t miss it.”

Making sure to thank him over your shoulder, you straightened your back and made your way through the main room of the club. There wasn’t any dancefloor, nor was there a DJ, but in the center of the space, there was a large, ornate fountain. Water no longer ran through it, but fairy lights had been wrapped around its tall structure, throwing shadows and low, scattered light around the entire room. Tables were centered around it, but typically only the low-ranking or occasional civilian patrons sat at them; the booths were almost always occupied by those who had a deal to make, those who had private (which almost always meant dangerous) matters to discuss, or those who were doing something that was, nine times out of ten, incredibly illegal. You’d walked by tables covered in lines of white powder before, their occupants knowing better than to worry about someone seeing and stopping them.

So long as no fights broke out and everyone stayed anonymous, everyone kept to their own business, and the paycheck was too good for you to worry about the moral connotations of working in such a place. No one had so much as laid a finger on you, and no one would, not while you were under the employment of the infamous leader of the Mandalorians.

After rounding the other side of the fountain, you finally saw the booth Quill had been talking about. It was raised up on a small platform, just high enough to be able to see the rest of the club clearly. Its table was, indeed, in the shape of a circle, and a large booth wrapped around three quarters of its diameter. Seated at it were four men and one woman; three of the men and she were wearing masks similar to your own, but while yours only covered your forehead and the upper half of your nose, theirs descended down their cheeks to their jawline,  covering the entirety of their face except for their mouths and chins.

As it was, you would have found them extremely intimidating, but now, you didn’t even spare them a second glance. Because your eyes were fixed firmly on the Boss, and you were certain that you could feel his fixed onto you.

No one had told you that his mask covered his entire head, and as you stood there, in shock, you wondered why the fuck no one had thought to warn you about it before. It looked as if it were made out of thin but quality plastic, and various scratches and scrapes covered its grey surface. A voice in the back of your mind whispered that it looked like the goth version of Jim Carrey from The Mask, and you had to fight down a manic giggle as your eyes followed the bottom edge of it, which ran along his jawline, below his ears, and then, presumably, around the back of his head right below his hairline.

The front of the mask was what threw you off the most, though. Instead of having any features carved into it to simulate where a mouth or nose should be, there was only a T-shaped panel of what looked to be black glass. Or was it tinted clear plastic? You felt yourself lean forward, unconsciously squinting to see if you could make out any features beneath it.

You heard someone close by clear their throat, and heat flooded your cheeks as you suddenly realized that you’d been standing there for God-knows how long, just staring at one of the most powerful men in the city. No, staring at his mask.

“I-I,” you stammered, looking down at the floor in horror. It was then that you saw the glass that you were still holding, and you sucked in a breath before looking up again.

“Sorry about that, sir,” you apologized, clearing your throat. You leaned forward, setting the drink down in the center of the table. “Quill mentioned that you liked old-fashioneds, so I took the liberty of-“

You cut yourself off, eyes widening as you realized your second mistake. You looked down at the drink and then up to the Boss’s mask, right at where his mouth would be if he weren’t wearing something that covered it completely. Therefore making it impossible to drink what you’d just offered him.

The horror from just a moment ago paled in comparison to what you felt now as you watched him slowly reach forward, the leather of his black gloves squeaking as he picked up the drink you’d brought for him. His head tilted to the side as he examined it, twisting the glass around between his fingers before setting it down again.

“Lemon and orange, huh?”

You jumped when you heard the voice that came from inside the mask; it was clearer than you’d expected it to sound, but it also had a filtered edge to it. Your guess what that there was some sort of microphone-like device inside of it that projected his voice so it wouldn’t be muffled while he spoke.

“U-um, yes sir,” you nodded, lacing your fingers together and resisting the nervous urge to wring your hands. “That’s how my father taught me how to make them. It adds more of a refreshing aftertaste. Or so I’ve found.”

He let out a short hum, pushing the glass towards the woman seated beside him.

“Was her father right?”

You saw her eyebrows jump up under her mask, but without hesitation she did as instructed, taking a sip of the amber cocktail. Without realizing it, you held your breath as she swallowed, running her tongue along the front of her teeth for a moment as she studied the aftertaste.

“It’s good,” she decided after a moment. “Actually, hold on. That’s really good. Damn. Don’t tell Quill, but I like yours even better than his.”

Relief surged through you, and a smile came to your lips as you let the air rush out of your lungs.

“I promise not to tell him; thank you very much, ma’am,” you nodded, jolting when she let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Ma’am? Pfft.” She turned to the Boss, nudging her shoulder against his as she drained the rest of her drink in one gulp. “Hear that, Mando? She called me ma’am.”

“A decision I’m sure she won’t make again,” he remarked dryly, not even turning towards her as she placed the empty glass at the edge of the table.

“Well. Either way, if you can do that with a drink I don’t even usually like, I’d love to see what you can do with a long island,” the woman grinned. “Think you can do that for me?”

“I actually just made one a few minutes ago,” you informed her; under normal circumstances, you would have felt offended by her question, but something in her smile told you that she didn’t mean it seriously. “What can I get for the rest of you guys?”

From there, you tried your best to recover gracefully from your little bout of foot-in-mouth syndrome. Pulling your small notebook out of the hidden pocket in your dress, you wrote down the rest of their drink orders, noticing that two of the men asked for old-fashioneds. From there, the last of the Boss’s party ordered a whiskey sour, and when you’d turned to ask if he’d like anything as well, he’d simply shaken his head no.

After letting them know you’d be back in just a few minutes, you turned and all but fled to the bar, hands balled up into fists as you approached Quill from behind.

“Why would you tell me,” you demanded, “that he requested me because he wanted to try one of my old-fashioneds if he can’t even drink with that mask on?! Why did you just let me bring that drink over, like an enormous buffoon-“

The older bartender turned around to face you, and you took a step backwards when you saw the wide grin stretched across his face. His shoulders were shaking with barely-controlled laughter, and you watched, stunned, as he fought to gain control over his expression again.

“You were the one who assumed that he wanted to try your drink,” he corrected you, busying himself with salting the rim of a margherita glass. “I never said anything like that, just that he enjoyed them.”

You sputtered in disbelief, throwing your hands up in exasperation before starting on your drink orders.

“So it was just some kind of hazing thing, then, was it?” you asked, not able to deny that you felt a twinge of fondness stir in you after seeing his typical stoic demeanor slip.

Quill snorted, cutting his eyes over to you as you worked side by side with him.

“You think I’d bother with that sorta thing?” You turned to see him watching you with amusement still glittering in his eyes. “Just needed some entertainment to get through the rest of this shift.”

A smile tugged at your lips, and you shook your head with a chuckle before returning to the whiskey sour starting to take shape in front of you.

“Well, laugh it up, cuz I’ll have you know I looked like a complete idiot in front of him.”

“I promise you he’s used to that, kid. Don’t worry about it; as long as you get your work done, he won’t pay you a second glance.”

Feeling mildly comforted by his words, you started on the woman’s drink, eyes darting up towards his table. Now that you knew where it was, you could just barely make out the flash of his shiny helmet through the smoke that had settled around the room. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms as, once again, you felt as if you were being watched, and you hastily turned your attention back to drink making.

When all four of them were assembled, you placed them on a tray before stepping out onto the floor once more. You were hyper-aware of the drinks as you balanced them while you walked, and you kept your eyes fixed on only your tray and the ground in front of you. You were not going to spill any of them; you’d already made enough of a fool of yourself, and you were determined not to add a third strike to your record with the Boss.

And, so, you didn’t catch the way his mask had followed your every movement as you crossed towards his table, nor did you notice the knowing smirk the woman beside him was wearing as she glanced between the two of you. You were blissfully unaware of any undue attention to yourself as you passed out each of the drinks respectively before tucking your tray under your arm and turning to the table with a smile.

“Can I get anything else for you guys?” You kept your tone light and friendly, even though you were mentally begging them to not need anything else.

“Just send Quill over; tell him I need to speak with him,” the Boss said. “Cover the bar for him until he gets back.”

“Yes, sir,” you hurriedly assured him.

Biting your lip, you hurried back to the bar and relayed the message to Quill, who just rolled his eyes and set down the glass he’d been polishing.

“Why he can’t walk over on his own two legs is beyond me,” you heard him grumble under his breath.

From there, the rest of your shift went by pretty normally; you made drinks and polished glasses until Quill came back to the bar a few minutes later, once more only answering you with grunts and noncommittal shrugs. He’d waved you off after you’d asked what he wanted, telling you to return to your section but to keep your eyes on the Boss’s table in case they needed anything.

Which they hadn’t. After returning to take their glasses, they’d declined your offer to get them any refills, and when you went to check on them ten minutes after that, they were gone. From there, you only had an hour left until your shift ended at its usual time – 3:30 am. You could have hugged the girl from the morning shift who came to relieve you – as it was, you’d thanked her so profusely for taking over your section that she’d looked worried for you.

“Um… Have a rough night?” she’d asked, eyebrows pinching together under her mask.

“You have no idea,” you sighed, heading towards the back room. “See you around!”

But your walk to the back came to an abrupt halt when Quill called you over, having to shout your name twice before you heard him over the music. Frowning, you walked over to him, leaning against the bar.

“What’s up?”

“Boss wants you to bring an old fashioned to his office,” he grunted, wiping his hands off on a towel. “Something about not getting to try the last one you made.”

You felt the color drain from your face, and you gulped, nodding quickly before making your way around to the other side of the bar.

“Um… Well, I was just about to go home; it was the end of my shift five minutes ago. Could I ask someone else to bring it to him?”

“Boss asked for you specifically,” he shrugged. “It’s on you if you wanna go against his request.”

Well. Shit. You’d made mistakes in your time, but you couldn’t see yourself ever being dumb enough to deny the kingpin of, arguably, the most powerful gang in Brooklyn.

“I…see. Um. Where exactly is his office?”

“Smart choice.”

After making your thousandth old fashioned of the evening, Quill gave you instructions to the office, and though you were still a bit lost on what to do at the end of the third hallway he mentioned, you had a pretty good idea as to where it was located. And so you set out, holding the drink in a white-knuckled fist as you made your way through the twists and turns of the old building.

A few minutes of wandering later found you standing in front of a door made out of solid, dark wood, and a bronze plaque on its surface read Management – Please knock.

“Well,” you whispered under your breath, “here goes nothing.”

You raised your hand and rapped your knuckles against the door, trying to stamp down the butterflies in your gut as you waited for a response. Several seconds passed by, and you bit your lip as you looked around the hallway you were in; the door to the Boss’s office was the only one on this short hallway, but someone had taken the time to put a potted plant next to the door. You smiled, reaching out with one of your fingers to brush against one of its leaves, and it was in that moment that the door rushed open.

You snatched your hand back, as if the plant had burned you, and looked up to see the Boss standing on its other side. After swallowing thickly, you plastered a smile on your face and straightened your posture.

“Hello, sir,” you greeted, holding out his drink. “I brought that old fashioned for you.”

Without a word, the masked man turned on his heel and walked back into the room, gesturing for you to follow him inside.

“Close the door on the way in.”

You paused, heart pounding as you took a step into his office; the two of you were the only ones there. Glancing behind you to the door, your eyes lingered for a second on its handle, wondering what the smartest thing to do here was. If you said no, then he could do so much worse than just fire you. But if you did as he said, well… Anything could happen to you behind that closed door, and how likely was it that the loud club outside would be able to hear you scream?

“Jesus Christ, I’m not gonna shoot you.”

You jumped so hard that you almost spilled his drink, but hearing his voice spurred you to quickly grab the handle and shut the door without another moment’s thought. You turned back to face him the same moment it slammed shut with a bang, and you winced at how loud of a sound it made.

Smooth.

“S-sorry, sir,” you stuttered, hesitantly walking towards him. You held out the glass, looking up at where you hoped his eyes were beneath his helmet. “I hope it lives up to the hype. The drink, that is.”

His shoulders twitched upwards with a short huff of laughter before taking the glass from your hand, the tips of his gloved fingers brushing against yours. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as your eyes fell from his mask, taking in for the first time what he was wearing.

In the low light of the club, you’d thought his suit was black, but now you could see that it was actually a dark forest green instead. The button-down shirt beneath it was white, and the top two buttons of it were undone, showing off a patch of tan skin just below his collarbone. For some second, your eyes lingered on it, inexplicably fascinated by the only bit of skin visible on the man in front of you.

Directly behind the Boss was a large desk cluttered with notebooks, folders, and stacks of various papers and envelopes, and you watched as your employer cleared off a small space to set his glass down on. You were finally able to break out of your bizarre thoughts about his clavicle once he turned back to face you, and you silently hoped that he hadn’t caught you staring at him again.

“Turn around.”

You blinked once, and then twice, before speaking.

“I, um… I don’t understand, sir-“

“Turn around,” he repeated, twirling his finger in the air. “Face the other way.”

Not fully understanding the purpose of such an order, you bit your lip, reminding yourself that he’d told you earlier that he wasn’t going to shoot you. Slowly, you obeyed him, lacing your fingers together and squeezing them tightly. You were now looking right at the door you’d walked in from, the one you were so tempted to walk through right now.

For a moment, the room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing, and you nearly shrieked when you heard his voice from what had to be just inches behind you.

“Don’t look back,” he commanded. “If you know what’s good for you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you nodded, noticing a trembling strand of hair out of the corner of your eyes. In fact, your entire body was trembling ever so slightly, and you took a deep breath to try and calm the frantic beating of your heart.

Needing to ground yourself, you looked around at your surroundings, focusing on them instead of what your boss could possibly have in store for you. The walls and floors were a sandy concrete, just like the rest of the club, but there were various personal touches dotted around the space that your eyes lingered on. On either side of the door, there were huge bookcases filled with, yes, books, but also binders and folders and trinkets you wouldn’t have thought a mobster would keep in his office. Things like the small, carved figurine of a horse he had resting next to a copy of Webster’s Dictionary, or the small vase of roses he had balanced on top of a pile of magazines.

After looking over the bookshelves, your eyes scanned the furniture dotted around the room. To your left, there was a black leather couch on top of what had to be a genuine Persian rug. To your right, facing the couch, a loveseat was shoved up against the wall, and hanging above it was a huge mirror in a gilded, ornate frame. As you turned to look at yourself in it, you realized that you could catch a bit of his reflection as well, and you startled when you saw that his hands were on the back of his mask, unsnapping a clasp that held it in place. With a silent gasp, you turned to face forward again, eyes wide.

You held your breath when you heard him pick the glass up again, and it suddenly made sense why he’d asked you to turn around – he just wanted to try the drink without you seeing his face. Your shoulders slumped with relief; you didn’t care if he hated how it tasted. You were just thrilled that he hadn’t brought you back to punish you for staring at him earlier.

There was a long pause as he drank it, and you had to stop yourself from shifting your weight or appearing too restless as you waited for his verdict.

“…Cara was right,” you finally heard, and you gasped at the sound of his pure, unfiltered voice. “Your old-fashioneds are better than Quill’s.”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathed, still recovering from the shock at how rich, how deep, his voice was. “I promise not to tell him.”

“Oh, he already knows,” he assured you. “He told me himself after you got hired.”

Your eyebrows shot up, and you couldn’t fight back a quiet chuckle.

“Quill’s just full of surprises tonight,” you mused.

“Hm. I saw him laughing at you earlier at the bar,” your boss went on, and you heard him pause before something shifted and clicked behind you. “You can turn around again.”

His voice was, once again, the same processed, slightly staticky one you’d heard before, and as you turned around, there was a pang of disappointment in your chest when you saw the mask staring back at you once again.

“People usually have to work here for at least a year before they see him so much as smile,” he went on, turning the glass between his hands as the ice inside clinked together. “And here you are, not even a week in.”

“Well… it’s probably just because I’ve been helping him out behind the bar,” you explained. “I don’t think any of the other girls mix their own-“

“No, it’s not that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “He has other bartenders to help him with that, and he hates them just as much as he hates the rest of the workers here. But not you.”

You didn’t know what to say, and so you said nothing, wracking your brain for anything – a thank you, an apology, a party trick – anything that could make the air feel less awkward than it had suddenly become. But, eventually, your boss broke the silence, though you never would have guessed what he’d been about to say.

“You’re not a server anymore,” he declared. “I want you behind the bar full-time now. You can replace, uh…” He tapped his fingers against the lip of the glass, and you saw his head tilt upwards as he thought. “…Rayanne? Rachel?”

“Rachelle?” you supplied weakly.

“I was close enough. You can replace her,” he continued. “She can be demoted to a server to take your place, and you’re promoted to bartender to take hers.”

“B-but, sir, I,” you stammered, adjusting your mask as you took a step towards him, “I can’t just steal Rachelle’s job; she’s been working here for three years-“

“And Cara still hates her long islands,” he once again cut you off. “I’ll have Quill email you a new schedule.”

Your mouth was open, but no words came out as you stared at the blank slate where his face should be; this wasn’t really such a bad thing, right? You’d gotten the position honestly, and Rachelle had never been particularly nice to you, anyways.

“…Thank you, sir,” you finally said. “I… I appreciate this opportunity.”

“Mm. How much do you wanna make?”

You pressed your lips together, your nose scrunching up as you mentally did the math.

“Um… Does $13 an hour work?”

Your employer snorted, shaking his head before taking a step towards you. You froze as he reached for your wrist, being surprisingly gentle as he brought your hand up between the two of you, and as you looked up, you knew that his eyes were boring into yours, even if you couldn’t see them. You found that you couldn’t look away as he pressed his empty glass into your hands, making sure your fingers were wrapped securely around it before pushing his hands into his pockets.

“Remind me,” he exhorted, “to never let you negotiate a deal for me.”

You blinked rapidly as he backed away, brain still fizzling a bit from how close he’d just been to you. The spicy scent of his cologne still lingered in your nostrils as he turned back to his desk, and it was only when he leaned against it and inclined his head towards you that your mind caught up with what he’d just said. What had been wrong with $13 an hour? Was it too low or too high? Had you just screwed yourself?

“Um…”

You watched his chest rise and fall with a sigh, but you could have sworn you heard a smile in his voice as he spoke next.

“Report to Quill tomorrow at the beginning of your shift,” he instructed. “You’re getting $15 an hour; he can tell you more about your benefits.”

Too low, then. You paused, not knowing what to say, and, he tiled his head towards the side as he waited for your response.

“…Did you just say benefits?”

This time, it was a full-blown laugh that you managed to coax out of him, and a tentative, hopeful grin spread over your lips as you watched him nod his head.

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “Now go home; get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, sir…”

With that, you turned around, opened the door, and floated down the hall to the break room. In fact, after grabbing your things and getting in your car, you floated the entire way home. It was only when you reached for your steering wheel that you realized you were still clutching his glass in your left hand, but you didn’t bother bringing it back; what was one missing glass out of the hundreds, if not thousands, the club already owned?

_____________________

Din sat at his desk for a while after that, half-heartedly doing the least glamorous part of his job – paperwork. Over the years, he’d done a number of horrible things to even worse people, but he still hadn’t hated any of it – the arson, the beatings, the murder – nearly as much as he hated paperwork. But tonight, he was grateful for the easy, mindless task; he wouldn’t be able to focus on much else, not with you on his mind.

The door to his office suddenly opened, but he didn’t bother glancing up to see who it was; Cara had already gone home with some pretty young thing she’d picked up at the bar, and there was only one other person who would dare come in without knocking.

“I gave her a promotion,” he said, not looking up from the check he was writing. “You’ve got yourself a new bartender. Thought you’d like not having to deal with Rachel showing up late anymore.”

“…I’ve been telling you to replace Rachelle for three years,” was his only answer.

Din looked up, watching as his old friend slowly lowered himself into his favorite armchair, groaning with the strain it put on his knees; he’d always had trouble with his joints.

“…Really,” he finally hummed, turning back to the check and scrawling his signature (which was just a wiggly line that resembled more of a curly fry than it did an actual name, but that only helped him in his efforts to remain nameless) across the bottom right corner of it. “Didn’t realize it’d been that long.”

“Because you blew me off and told me to quit complaining anytime I mentioned it,” he fired back. “Why now, all of a sudden? Why her?”

“Look, do you want me to keep Rachel?”

Quill opened his mouth to speak, but he cut him off before he could, already knowing what he would say.

“Rachelle – whatever her fucking name is,” he grumbled. “You get my point.”

“It still doesn’t answer my question.”

Something in the older man’s tone made Din pause, slowly setting his pen down before turning to Quill once again.

“What’s it to you?” he countered. “You got something against working with the new girl?”

“No,” the bartender sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And you know it. Just…remember what happened the last time you took a special interest-“

“Out.”

His friend sighed, standing up with a grunt and taking a step towards him.

“Now, Din, don’t get me wrong-“

“I said…”

He stood from his desk, pressing his palms flat against its surface and leaning towards the older man.

“Out.”

Quill bowed his head, the wrinkles on his face deepening as he frowned, but he didn’t feel anything but contempt as he nodded and turned towards the door. Slowly, Din lowered himself down into his chair once more, but his muscles tensed when he saw his old friend pause on the way out.

“I’m just as much worried for you as I am for her, you know,” he murmured. “It would kill me to see you go through…that again.”

The old man shook his head, looking back at him over his shoulder.

“It would kill me,” he whispered.

With that, he stepped out and shut the door behind him, leaving Din with nothing but bad memories and the taste of bourbon and lemon peel lingering on his tongue.

[dreams-of-the-arcana]

I’ve had the mental image of Fae Cleo in my mind for days so here’s a short fic ❤️ loosely a sequel to this:

Forget-Me-Nots in Our Secret Moment

If you asked any of the villagers out in the Vesuvian forest edge, they’d tell you that the forest did seem more... alive. No one could quite place their finger on the exact changes but something was different. Gatherers seemed to come back with more in their baskets than before. Their known spots for edible fruit or plants almost regrew faster than they had only a short time ago.

Of course, the older residents whispered amongst themselves that it must be Fae influence. Who else could? But they knew that Fae didn’t help for nothing and a growing concern spread amongst them on what was being taken in exchange.

The elders had forbidden their children from going into the forest to seek the Fae.

“The price is always more than you expect!” They warned their offspring from a young age.

“Stay in our part of the forest, leave the Fae to theirs.”

Most listened, some didn’t, it was expected that a few would push the boundary intentionally or not.

What was the threat of a story to a small child faced with a test of courage? What did they expect when the boundary was so vague? When a young person went looking for something and noticed the fruit or flowers over in one area seemed so much better than those closer.

Sometimes they’d wander back after a time, confused or restless. A spark had been lit in their eyes that nothing the small village could match. None of the Fae-Touched, as they were called, stayed in the village for very long.

No one had gone missing though and nothing seemed amiss. So rumors and concern were kept hushed and the elders waited.

Muriel of the Kokhuri might have laughed if he knew what knots the elders were tying themselves in trying to discover the reasons behind the change. But he never did spend much time in the main village.

Lately, he didn’t even spend as much time at home. Khamgalai didn’t ask where he spent his days now, after being sick for so long she assumed he’d found ways to keep himself entertained. A bit of suspicion entered her mind but she trusted that Muriel would talk when he was ready. Because she could see it in his eyes, the touch of the Fae.

Muriel didn’t want to talk about her though. His visits into the woods felt like a secret that he didn’t have to share with anyone. He’d never had a secret before and somehow it made him protective over these rendezvous. Once someone else knew, he’d have to share her and he wasn’t ready for that.

The way through the forest past the boundary had grown softer under his many journeys. A path began behind his little hut in the dense green trees with ferns littering the ground. The big leaves made perfect covers. This part of the forest was darker as the thick trees blocked out most of the sun. The path moved through them and into a less crowded part of the forest. Flowers grew on the floor here and he’d pause to collect a few most days. The little blue Forget-Me-Nots were his favorite but he’d also bring daffodils, or tulips, or rock cress. On good days, he found roses. Beautiful white roses with thick petals and flowers almost the size of his palm.

Today he stopped by the rose bush and found one flowering perfectly, while the rest still waited for the right moment.

Once his small bouquet was in hand, he followed along the small stream towards a clearing. A large weeping willow hung over the stream and beside it laid a small meadow. Red capped mushrooms drew his eye to the circle in the middle where he hurried over to.

Softly he placed the bouquet in the middle, careful to only put his hand in the circle. Then he waited.

Gentle breezes rustled the ground and brought the smell of wisteria to him. In a blink, there she was.

The Fae was called Cleo and looked fairly human in her proportions. That made her inhuman features all the more noticeable. Long red curls fell to her feet and defied gravity, her hair floated around her it seemed. Muriel had never seen skin so pale and under the sun it sparkled. Her ears were long and pointed away from her head and those eyes were impossibly green. Most of that felt like nothing though in comparison with the two curly horns growing a top her head and the pupils of her eyes were slits like a cat.

“Mm, how lovely, Muriel~”

Her voice sounded like music from an instrument he could only dream of.

“The roses you like had a bloom.”

Cleo pulled the rose to her nose and smiled.

“Indeed, it’s beautiful.”

Muriel tried to hide his own smile by reaching into his bag.

“I brought the dessert we talked about last time, the Boortsog. Khamgalai taught me when we settled here. We try to keep the old traditions alive.”

Muriel blushed slightly as he offered the cloth containing the treats to Cleo. She seemed to bounce in excitement and gently took one. A blissful look took over her face once she ate it and she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment.

“... what do you taste?” Muriel absently asked out loud before blushing deeper.

“It’s just that... you always seem to... uh...”

Cleo grinned and let him stumble over his words a moment.

“I taste the sun on the growing grains,” she began. “The earth from where it was born. I can taste the first gentle breeze on the cow’s face. The flowers where the bees gathered pollen to make the honey. In this bite, I taste the energy you put into making these for me. Your hopes that I would enjoy it. It taste like life to me, a life made better with you in it.”

She stared into his eyes with such intensity that Muriel couldn’t dare look away.

Slowly he leaned towards her and she happily met him at the edge of the circle.

When he pressed his lips to hers, he tasted the sweetness of the honey from the boortsog. Muriel’s hand reached up to slip into her hair and rest at the base of her head. Idly he wondered if this was the real Fae food the elders had always warned him about because once he’d tasted Cleo’s lips he never craved others.

Cleo’s kisses were playful and passionate, she gently nipped his lower lip and they both smiled.

Muriel pulled away first, he always had to. Cleo tried to move with him to prolong their contact but stopped at the end of the red caps. He dragged his hand slowly from her hair to cup her jaw where she then twisted to press a small kiss into his palm.

All around them, little blue flowers sprang to life from the earth. In a moment the entire meadow filled with the gentlest forget-me-nots as the lovers shared their secret time.

[bard-llama]

WiP List

This is gonna be looooong (like, REALLY long), so I’mma go ahead and give you a cut here. But if you’re interested in what i’m working on, take a look!

Order purely based on the order my tabs are in. I’m only counting WiPs that actually have more than a paragraph written, because if I didn’t, this list would be even longer. Also, pls don’t judge me but what I name my WiPs 😂

Post-Coital Smoke

Kinda what it sounds like tbh. I just wanted Iorveth getting high and admiring Roche’s body and then Roche decided to be a tease. At some point, I assume there will be sex.

Angst: Sex object Roche

Iorveth’s POV of realizing that Roche hurts himself whenever he flirts at Iorveth. Premise is that Roche has been groomed (intentionally or not) by Foltest to be his. So when he feels attraction towards Iorveth, he needs to be punished. And obviously Iorveth helps him learn that no, that’s not okay and idk recovery???

Midwinter Feast

This idea was 100% spawned by me trying to write holiday fics, but Foltest hosts a Midwinter Feast where they close the city for 12 days, leaving Roche to get along with the Nonhuman/Scoia’tael(ish) delegation during that time. Also, Foltest might be using the feast as a delaying tactic to resupply his army. I legit have no idea where this is going, I just thought the idea of Roche and Iorveth stuck at a feast for 12 days was funny.

Solstice Feast aka To Birth a Verdant Future

This was actually an xmas gift for @lutes-and-dandelions, but I havent finished it yet 😓 But the premise is similar to the former in that it’s another solstice feast. But it’s set post-W3 with Emhyr as Emperor throwing a party in the new conquered capital of Vizima. Roche broods a lot about Foltest’s memory and how he hates Emhyr and decides to distract himself by hanging out with Iorveth and suggesting they follow an old elven tradition. And that’s all I’ll say. XD

Next Year (Solstice Feast sequel)

Literally set the next year. This time they merge their lives by merging their people’s traditions.

Lily Preserved in Amber

Okay, haven’t gotten very far in this, but I decided it was an elven rite of passage to go searching through the forest for a sign of your future. And Iorveth finds a piece of amber with a lily preserved inside. I haven’t decided if it purely means Roche or if it means his whole family with Roche and Boussy and Anais and all. So far, he hasn’t even found the amber yet lmao. But he did just discover music!

Character taking control of the other and Character B just letting go and enjoying themselves

Under the subheading “Porn Snips”, so uh, yeah. Starts with Roche and Iorveth fighting to decide who gets to top, involves Roche getting choked, and Iorveth ripping Roche’s pants off. Oh, also, they’re currently at a fancy party hiding somewhere in the garden lmao

Based on @moonlights-ordinance‘s art

Moonlight’s working on an adorable piece where Roche leans his forehead against Iorveth’s back between his shoulderblades. I decided to make it post-W3 with both of them working as paper pushers/administrators under Emhyr’s Temeria. And Nilfgaard does not believe in chairs with backs (or, really, Emhyr wanted to see how long Roche’s pride would make him suffer. It’s a long time). The idea is to show development over time as they slowly get more comfortable with touch and start using each other as backrests. And then the sweet scene Moonlight is drawing.

Eliza for @useless-empty-brain aka Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?

Next is Iorveth’s POV, but I legit cannot figure out where to start. But we’re gonna see some of his thoughts (like how Eliza volunteered him to stay in Vizima for an unspecified period of time and he said yes even though he can’t and now has to commute regularly because he doesn’t want to miss tea with Roche but also doesn’t want Roche’s spies to catch on lmao) and his curiosity about Roche and Foltest and what Roche’s mission is (which I... totally know.)

Roche’s Scars

@moonlights-ordinance sent me a great pic of a mod for Roche where he had some pretty vicious scarring/mutilation. So of course I decided I needed to tell the story of each one. But really, it’s a story about the stages of acceptance with scars. Both Iorveth and Roche start out hiding theirs, but eventually come to reveal them comfortably in public.

Vernon Roche of the Scoia’tael aka The Value of a Man

Does my title give it away? Oops? So, this is a found family fic where Roche is captured by the Scoia’tael and the elves and dwarves slowly come to see him as - well, I was gonna say human, but as a person, I guess. And start feeling really, really guilty, especially when some not great things happen to Roche. 

Oh also, Foltest is a giant dick and uh, SPOILERS he does not try to get Roche back. Which leads to a whole subplot that will end with a found family for EVERYONE, because they all deserve to be happy dammit.

All of that was just one document lmao. I have 24 documents, some of which have quite a few WiPs in them. 😱

Kiss Prompts

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. AKA How to Fluster an Elf

When I got the idea for How to Fluster an Elf, I decided it was gonna fill the prompt dammit. And then it really, really expanded on me.

33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Roche dreams occasionally that Iorveth visits him and watches over him and sometimes speaks, but he can’t understand Elder Speech, so he assumes it’s all gibberish.

Then he finds out it’s not and suddenly he’s not so certain it’s a dream

16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Okay, I literally just need to buckle down and write some good kissing. This is set in (Im)Perfect Strangers and Iorveth is pouting about them leaving the gardens, so Roche makes it up to him.

25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

This one won’t actually be published with the kisses ‘cause it’s porn and the rest are T-rated lol. Buuuut Roche and Iorveth are trying to have a secret liaison in the forest when the rain starts. Featuring nature magic, tentacles, and Iorveth getting filled.

Scenes from Another World (aka AU premise)

Old Men in Vergen

Set during Witcher 3, but with an established relationship. Roche comes to visit Iorveth in Vergen to ask for advice on leading an insurgency. Iorveth just wants to feed Roche while he can now that he’s not the one starving in the woods.

Language Aphasia/Deal with the Devil

I wanted to write Gaunter! So I decided that Gaunter is in a mood for some mischief (he calls it being generous) and comes upon a traveling Vernon Roche who wishes that he could be understand Iorveth. Then Iorveth’s Scoia’tael find a passed out Roche in the woods and bring him to Iorveth for judgement. Only somehow, Roche only understands Elder Speech now. He can’t understand Common at all. The Scoia’tael find this very offensive and Iorveth is mostly freaked out that someone who can do THAT was wandering around his forest.

Bunk Beds: The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Based on a silly comic, Ciri convinces Iorveth and Roche to try to help her destroy the portrait. Geralt gets pissed and sends them to Bunk Bed Exile. Shenanigans ensue and somehow they start to get along.

Iorveth’s Scoia’tael Giving Him Shit For His Taste in Men aka The Lovestruck Fox

Right now, working on a piece from the POV of a new Scoia’tael recruit who is discovering that Iorveth’s Scoia’tael roast the fuck out of him over his crush on Roche. 

Speaking of, anyone have suggestions on prime roast material? I am not this creative.

Let’s Torture Roche!

No, really. This one is pretty dark. And told in kind of a different style than my usual, because I felt like it. So, premise is that Iorveth and Roche were a thing in the past, but then Roche was recalled to Foltest’s side and he went. So Iorveth is understandably pretty hurt and pissed (this was decided for a prompt of someone breaking down as soon as they’re behind closed doors). Buuut what he doesn’t know is that Roche is not with Foltest of his own volition. Hostages, blackmail, and torture are all involved and Foltest is a pretty horrible guy. But of course we need a happy ending, so eventually, Iorveth will rescue Roche and they get to recover together.

Life Debt aka Iorveth is an Asshole

The concept for this was that Roche saved Iorveth’s life and now that they were no longer enemies (set during Witcher 3), his honor demands that he follow Roche around until he can repay the favor. Featuring Iorveth being a trolling asshole, correcting the new Temerian Loyalist’s fighting abilities, and Roche being very, very tired. 

In application, it’s mostly angst so far, ‘cause I had to set up HOW Roche saved Iorveth’s life. And then I decided to really hurt Iorveth. But tbh I will probably skip ahead after establishing this stuff, because I just want shenanigans.

King and Country

I’ve got several WiPs for this one, including the Stripes’ recruitment, their decision to change sides, the Stripes being double agents, and of course, Iorveth and Roche’s developing relationship. But hey, I’ve skipped ahead to writing their wedding already, so... you know it ends happily ever after?

Friday Fight Night for Jan 29 (which I did not make oops)

So, this actually turned into a long piece that’s gonna be part of my Chronic Pain series. Basically, King Foltest is treating with the leaders of the Scoia’tael in Temeria and Iorveth is one of them. Unfortunately, he’s having a REALLY BAD pain day, but he’s also determined to be there to represent his people. Roche helps him see sense. Possibly forcefully.

Exhaustion Prompts

“If we’re both in this state, we both really screwed up somewhere huh?”

Iorveth and Roche are trapped in a dream and I got a little stuck creating the creature that trapped them there. But pretty sure Saskia is gonna interrupt their flirting by saving them.

“You were almost dead from pushing it too far!”

In which Roche has a heart attack from too much coffee. Yeah. He’s okay, though! But PT is about to blow a gasket and coffee will very much be disallowed.

Found Family Prompts

Taking Out the Trash for @useless-empty-brain

Literally a story about taking out the trash lmao. We’re gonna see if I can make this intersting.

Touch Starved for @mochii-girl

Honestly, haven’t gotten much done on this yet, but I’m thinking puppy pile cuddles in Corvo Bianco

Coffeeshop AU aka Brewing Romance and Dissent

Ooof I’ve got a lot of bits and pieces of this written, but nothing quite finished, except for the moment when things change from “we flirt as I order coffee” to “I make you special drinks and invite you to come visit me after hours”. Writing a canon coffeeshop au when I know shit all about coffee is HARD.

Curse Breaking

Omg this is one of the first WiPs I started for Iorveth/Roche, no joke. STILL WORKING ON IT! The premise is that Roche finds a feverish and dying Iorveth in an empty Scoia’tael camp, saves him with the power of True Love’s Kiss The Power of Strong Emotions, Like That Which You Might Have For Your Enemy. Then they team up to go save Iorveth’s Scoia’tael from a big bad mage and Roche invites Triss along for the ride, which totally doesn’t make Iorveth jealous. I kinda stalled out at the part where they reach the mage’s hideout and see the results of the mages failed experiments. On Iorveth’s people. It’s gonna hurt. A lot. But afterwards, there might be makeouts. And some sort of implication that they’re all down to do this (minus the horrible, traumatic parts) again.

Roche POV bloodplay

Roche’s POV starting from before his first encounter with Iorveth. Then he has a weirdly sexually arousing encounter with the elf, and tbh, that’s as far as I got. But Iorveth draws blood from Roche’s neck, presses his thumb to it, and then licks it off his thumb. Next, Iorveth was gonna be the one getting Uncomfortably Aroused, but I haven’t gotten that far. No idea where this is going overall.

Iorveth Investigates Roche

This kinda isn’t a real WiP in that idk if I’ll ever finish it. I mostly started it to do some worldbuilding about what public information there would be about Roche. 

Voyeurism AKA Eye on You

Yeah, I don’t have much for the next chapter yet, tbh. So premise is that Iorveth accidentally ends up watching Roche get off at the brothel and finds it really, really hot. Hot enough to get curious and go back for more. Next one is going to involve thigh fucking and Iorveth might possibly get pegged by Daph??? idk

Fake Relationship

Poor @lutes-and-dandelions has been waiting forever for this one and I can’t even find a place to end the scene and post what I have so far. Premise is that Iorveth and Roche are both investigating their missing men and the trail takes them to the Murivel Resort for Couples. So they go undercover. Featuring Roche’s POV of being doubtful, Iorveth using the excuse to flirt outrageously, strip gwent, and a magic amulet that hids Iorveth’s scar and that Roche hates.

Competitive Makeouts AKA The Chase

This was kissing practice and it turned into a casefic! Which is awesome because I love casefics even though I haven’t published any yet. So in this one, as Iorveth and Roche sneak off to makeout, they also end up investigating a conspiracy in the Temerian military. 

Iorveth/Roche(/Kayran) + Roche/Foltest aka Every Kiss Begins with Kayran

In which Roche accidentally walks in on Iorveth’s monthly fuck date with the Kayran and gets invited to join in. Then, somehow,  it starts to turn into a relationship. With an elf and a tentacle monster. And yet, somehow, this relationship is healthier than the one with Foltest. The contrast opens Roche’s eyes.

Pining and Poignards

In which Iorveth stabs Roche with his favorite knife and wants it back and is also maybe pining a lil bit. Meanwhile Roche is rather pissed, but also curious and begins to teach himself Elder Speech to try to read the inscription on Iorveth’s knife. I stalled out in the scene where Iorveth accidentally watches Roche masturbate in the bath.

Iorveth tittyfucking Roche

Look, it’s what it says on the tin. Roche’s POV of Iorveth’s fascination with his chest and how it makes him feel and then there is sex.

Dirty Gremlin Man

Iorveth gets off on Roche being a sweaty, stinky human. Roche pins Iorveth in a fight and Iorveth gets very distracted watching a drop of sweat trail down Roche’s face. So distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t think twice before stretching out his neck and licking it. Then, of course, he remembers where he is. Featuring a very confused Roche, a smidge of jealousy, and Iorveth stealing Roche’s sweaty clothing to do unspeakable things to it. And somehow they get together.

Want me to sit in your lap?

Geralt LEGIT says this to Roche like 5 mins into the Witcher 2 and it’s GREAT. So of course, I had to write a scene where he actually got to. This is set post Witcher 2 while Geralt, Triss, Roche, and Ves are headed back to Temeria. Triss offers Geralt a little stress relief - which involves warming Roche’s cock and watching Triss and Ves get to know one another.

Red is the Rose

So, Chapter 4 is set post-Witcher 2 and Iorveth is obsessing over the fact that the Rose of Remembrance still has not wilted. He wonders what might be possible, so when he hears a rumor that a certain Temerian Commander was taken captive by Dethmold...

Dethmold most definitely dies. But unfortunately, that doesn’t save Roche from the curses he cast. So they go looking for Geralt to find out how to fix it.

This has only been 9 of my documents, y’all. I think I have a problem.

De-Aged Fic aka The language of friendship is not words but meanings

Ugh, I lost my momentum on this one, which sucks, ‘cause the next chapter is so close to done. Iorveth just needs to do a little freaking out first. But then they will both be back to adults and have to DEAL with the fact that they made good friends and would kinda like that again. I think this fic is gonna be purely friendship for them, but they’re gonna get there.

Glory Hole

A fic for the @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo where Roche hears a rumor that some Scoia’tael go to this brothel on the outskirts of town and hey, he may as well check it out, right? By going undercover and working the glory hole, of course. He never ACTUALLY expected Iorveth would come, but his legendary mouth was enticing enough to draw the Scoia’tael commander out.

Snuggling

Thirteen “accidentally” handcuffs Iorveth and Roche together when they capture Iorveth. This leads to them lying on the cot in the Stripes’ holding cell, spooning. There is banter and tickling and escapes not attempted and also maybe some sex with Inexperience Iorveth (i say maybe because I already started the sex, but idk if it will fit in). 

Petals and Stripes

A weed is but an unloved flower

Okay, the Stripes are going to attempt to woo Iorveth during a battle. Also, there is a stabbing. And then a kidnapping. And then, miracle of miracles, someone actually tries talking!

One person's weed is another person's wildflower

Ves’s POV! She cleans up the mess her idiots make and terrifies the life out of one elven suitor, but first she’s gotta deal with her own conflicted feelings about her Boss, the guy she relies on to show her the shades of grey in the world, loving the elf she’s supposed to kill. 

After that, I’ve got 2 more fics planned in this ‘verse. One is gonna be a fluffy and/or sexy date after Iorveth and Roche have gotten together. The other is a Scoia’tael side story, featuring lots of gossip about the humans sending their Commander love letters.

Love Shack

The Better Part of Valor

Ugh, I’m stuck on the sex again. Roche is having a really shitty day, so he goes to the cabin and signals Iorveth that he wants a round. Iorveth offers gentle (for them) sex and praise. And at the end, there’s a very significant scene where Iorveth removes his bandana. Roche buries his fingers in Iorveth’s hair, but doesn’t actually see his face, as he’s laying on his stomach with Iorveth on top of him.

Medicine

The morning after! Roche wakes up to find Iorveth in the bath, facing away from him, and notices a new scar. Iorveth has to deal with actually revealing his scars in daylight and they discuss the significant differences in elven and human medicine. Hint: I turned my own medical procedures into elven medicine, so it’s pretty fucking good.

PWP Ovi

Set ambiguously late, maybe after Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate. Iorveth and Roche explore what Roche can take. We start with overstimulation, go into consensual somnophilia, come inflation, breeding kink, and oviposition. Because elves reproduce by laying eggs, which is not at all the case purely because I started this WiP ages ago and was horny.

The Picture Says It All

There’s going to be 5 more pictures that Rinn draws for Iorveth. Next is Roche hard at work, hunched over a desk. Then we’re getting some shirtless Roche, for “research”, of course. Then Roche cuddling with PT and the rest of the team, about which Iorveth is not at all jealous. Then a face study of Roche during a fight and uh, Iorveth is uncomfortably turned on. And finally, a drawing of their cabin with a silhouette in the window. She knows.

Roche & Rinn: The Haunting of Barrack 8B

Oh man, I really want to finish the next chapter, because I already have the one after that done. But first, we get introduced to Adda! This ‘verse is going to feature Adda the White a lot more than any of my others have done so far and I’m very excited. Also, Silas continues to be terrified of the ghost and the ghost and Adda become girlfriends buddies.

Roche builds Iorveth a home

Set late in the ‘verse, after Roche knows his feelings, but they haven’t said them yet (not out loud, anyway). Iorveth takes a trip to go meet Saskia do things off screen and Roche ends up turning to his old hobby, carpentry, to keep himself from pining too obviously. So obviously he ends up builing Iorveth a solarium. And a pillow nest. And a scaffold so that flowers that blossom in the moonlight cover the glass and give them privacy.

I got stuck here because Rinn needs to give Roche a hint to get him to build the pillow nest, but I hadn’t developed Rinn and Roche’s relationship yet, so had to go back and do that. But eventually Iorveth returns and they have wonderful I’m-not-saying-it-but-i-love-you sex in the new pillow nest.

Foltest (WiP): Long Live the King

This is actually the last fic in the ‘verse, so I don’t want to give too much away. But actually, I haven’t figured out what the next chapter is, BUT I have the chapter after that started and it is GOOD, just you wait!! I’m very excited.

Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria

This ‘verse alone, I have 14 WiPs and a dozen more unwritten ideas.

(Im)Perfect Strangers

I am frustratingly stuck on this chapter. Theoreatically, we are going to have a check in on how the mountain and the rest of our cast is doing and then Roche launches his Wooing TM plan (aka dinner, gift, and dancing).

Between Two Fools

Yeah, Roche and Iorveth have very different understandings of what their gifts represent. There is some soft happiness and then a swift rug pulled out from under Iorveth’s feet, I’m afraid. BUT we are almost to the part where the two idiots sit down and actually talk properly.

Unlucky Number Thirteen

Not only do I have more of Thirteen’s story planned, but I have ideas for ALL the Stripes to have stories. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, Thirteen starts spying for Roche. A lot of still-nebulous stuff happens, including Thirteen’s first time, for which he asks Roche to help. Additionally, once we reach the (Im)Perfect Strangers timeline, Thirteen has a special story all his own. It involves learning to read and a secret I shall not yet reveal.

Silas

Like I said, all the Stripes are hopefully getting stories. But Silas’s is coming along nicely. He starts a new life as “Silas”, as a man, and joins the army. Boot camp is rough and awful and he’s not very good at any of it, but one day, Roche comes looking for a recruit. He needs a codebreaker to decipher Thirteen’s scouting reports (another one for pictures). So Silas joins the Stripes, but he’s still terrified that they’ll fnd out and think he’s been lying to them. Fortunately, they’ll be putting his fears to rest.

Stripes Sex aka Earning Your Stripes: The First Time

PT’s POV! The Stripes (pre-Silas) are all still getting comfortable with each other as a team. But Thirteen has known Roche the longest and in a specific capacity. So one evening when he needs to get out of his head, Thirteen asks Roche to dom him. PT is confused and scandalized and then jealous, but he gets to join in soon too. Meanwhile, Finch and Ves have fun with their bratty arsonist and Fenn is loving it.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance

This is very long and entirely build up to porn. And then lots of porn. A question during a random conversation leads Roche to make Iorveth ask him to take Iorveth utterly apart in a consensual non-consent fantasy set when they were still enemies in the forest.

Bath House

This was supposed to be a simple PWP where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth under his breath while the two of them are at the bathhouse with Boussy (who LOVES baths and brought them to the fancy bath house), Anais, and Thirteen (who HATE baths and react to water much like a cat). They kinda took over the story and there has been no dirty talk yet oops.

Iorveth POV: Tutti

Iorveth begins to reclaim his love for music and lets himself improvise and compose again. And he ends up writing a song that is the story of his and Roche’s romance.

Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses

The Elihal/Hattori side story! Though we haven’t actually met Hattori yet. So far, Elihal is expounding on his past and his relationship with Iorveth (he used to make all of Iorveth’s fancy gowns for concerts). Elihal and Hattori won’t play a HUGE role in (Im)Perfect Strangers, but they will be appearing!

Ves and Ciaran aka The First Rule of Fight Club

Ves is stuck walking a very long way back to Vergen with the memory of Ciaran’s skin against her teeth. And even though elves lie like breathing, she can’t help thinking about what he said about Roche not being worth her loyalty. Slowly, she begins to work some things out.

Sex with Saskia/Dragonfucking

Yeah, it’s what it sounds like. Iorveth tells Roche that Saskia agreed to a threesome and where to meet, but he neglected to mention the rather large dragon that was currently rimming his ass. Roche gets distracted from his confusion by the hotness and watches Iorveth get fucked by a dragon (with 2 dicks to fit 2 holes, of course).

Come Inflation + Piss Play

Um. Yeah, it’s a PWP where Roche asks Triss for a potion that will make him come a lot. And then Iorveth wants more. No idea where it’s going, tbh.

Stripes vs Scoia’tael: Water Balloon Fight

Literally a water balloon fight. For morale.

Baby Mama

Uh, the title is a bit telling here oops. But let’s just say Iorveth and Roche go on vacation to the cabin on top of the mountain again when Iorveth is hit with the sudden extreme urge to breed. Roche is down, but at some point, they do actually need to talk.

King Roche aka fics where Roche is in charge and hates it. Some are more in line with this than others.

Post W3 Becoming Terrorists Together

Ah yes, the murder husbands fic. Literally, Roche gets stuck leading Temeria under Emhyr’s orders and he’s good at it, but he HATES it. Enter Iorveth, who both points out security flaws, joins Roche for a surprisingly unawkward bath, and proposes that they go hunting down war criminals on their own time. How can Roche say no?

Pre-W2 Ambassadorial AU

Different first meeting AU! In this one, Iorveth is sent as the elven ambassador to Temeria and it’s about as much fun as one might expect. Triss and Roche, the other outcasts amongst Temerian court, decide to befriend him. Well, try to anyway. idk where this is going, but it’s been fun. Also, Iorveth wears a fancy braid over his eye, because I said so. Also, I might be planning an OT3 porn scene at some point, because it turns out, elves are VERY sensitive to magic XD

Leap of Faith

Okay, yeah, this has nothing to do with King Roche, but it’s the doc I was working in when I got the idea. In this one, a mage captures Iorveth for Foltest and starts torturing him. Roche, without really thinking about it, decides the mage goes too far, so he kills them. Leaving him with an elven prisoner and a castle full of people who will consider him a traitor for that. They escape the city, but now Iorveth has gotta convince Roche that no, the King really won’t forget that whole murder and prisoner escape thing. 

The whole point of this fic was for me to write them jumping off a cliff lmao. When am I gonna get to that? Probably like last or second to last chapter, tbh. Which should be... after the next one? No, I lied, it’s next chapter! I need to get on that!

An ill-favour���d thing, sir, but mine own aka Possessive Sex

Piss Fic

Um. Yeah. Roche is really horny when Iorveth gets home and is on him immediately, which is great, but Iorveth has gotta piss. Which becomes less urgent as Roche is determined to have his face fucks, but after he comes all over Roche’s face, it’s VERY urgent and Roche is a fucking brat and won’t move out of the way. So obviously the response to this is to piss on Roche’s crotch - which Roche is apparently more than okay with.

Cum Dumpster Roche

Yeah, this one doesn’t have much yet, I literally just wanted Roche getting railed and claimed and L O V I N G it. 

Possessiveness

Iorveth spends a lot of time thinking about his enemy, his nemesis. He’s researched Roche extensively, spent hours thinking up tactics and strategies to outwit his nemesis. He literally knows what Roche named his stupid weapons, but he’s never actually met Roche.

But he’s dreamt about it. The Roche in reality doesn’t look like the assumptions he made in his dreams, but who cares about looks? Because Roche is his, and certainly not some dh’oine king’s.

Tentacles + Breeding

Gods, this one is SO CLOSE to being done dammit, I just gotta finish it!! But it’s a fun one. Iorveth and Roche are fighting, when Iorveth suddenly starts fighting plants, which are fighting back. Then the plants notice Roche and suddenly he’s tied up with vines and his clothes are getting torn off and uh, he’s not supposed to find this hot, is he? But he really kinda does. And then Iorveth goes and claims him and tries to protect him from a nearly-extinct non-sentient plant that sensed a warm spot to lay its eggs until someone else could come along and fertilize them. Iorveth is delighted to be that person.

Dream: Pleasure Slave

Yeah, Roche really likes getting claimed in these. In this one, he has a favorite dream setting where Iorveth rules some grand elven kingdom and Roche’s only role is to bring him pleasure. Not to deal with politics or nobles or policy, but just to make Iorveth feel good. So far, this features cock warming, come inflation, a leather cock cage (so to speak), prostate milking, and a very nice silver chalice that Iorveth expects Roche to fill before they’re done.

Roche wears a collar

This was gonna be a simple lil thing based on me creating Roche in heroforge and giving him a lil hidden collar. But then Iorveth decided to get really sappy and had to design and create the perfect collar for his enemy. And then, much to his surprise, he gets the opportunity to PUT his collar on Roche. Which is great, except the sight distracts him so much that Roche manages to escape.

But the next time they meet, Roche is still wearing that collar, hidden under his chaperon and armor. Iorveth has feelings about that.

Standalone

Crones fic aka And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

So this is the angsty fic that started from a crack premise. Er, one of them. I seem to do that a lot. But in this one, Roche goes to the Ladies of the Woods and asks for his men back. The Ladies agree, in exchange for 6 lifetimes of service. But no creature can reverse death. Which leads to the Stripes coming back to “life” as ghosts - only Roche is the only one who can see them. Ves can’t (not at first). 

Believe it or not, the whole idea behind this was the Stripes roasting Roche as he tries to flirt (terribly) with Iorveth. But uh... somehow it turned pretty dark. Like, it’ll have a happy ending for sure, but it’s gonna be a lot about processing trauma and grief and building families and also curing a plague, because that’s the first assignment from the Ladies.

Stripes fics

Cuddles with the Commander

This is intended to be a sequel to The Pride of Temeria, but I kinda got stuck figuring out exactly how Roche should react. Tbh, I don’t have much of this written yet, but the goal is for Roche to approve cuddles with everyone lmao.

Fire Breating

Okay, this one started as crack purely because I love fire, but it’s actually been really fun. So, Iorveth and Roche are established and Iorveth has been invited to a family night with the Stripes, which is kinda a lil awkward. So they decide to showcase some of their talents - which includes Roche singing musicals and PT breathing fire.

Iorveth is horrified that humans have harnessed this skill.

Iorveth’s missing eye

This is really short and idk if I’ll continue it, but the idea was for Roche to really wonder what was up with the bandana over half of Iorveth’s face was about. And then, of course, to find out.

Iorveth Gangbang

Why is this under Stripes fics, you might ask? Well, I have great news for you. Guess who the gang is?

In which Iorveth and Roche are in an established relationship and Iorveth gets tied up in the middle of the Stripes’ camp while Roche orders his men to take him apart. Iorveth very much enjoys himself, and then when the Stripes are tapped out, Roche shows ‘em how it’s done.

Kink Bingo fics aka that event that I totally failed, but hey, prompts are prompts.

Age Kink

In this fic, Iorveth and Roche both end up captured by unknown forces and end up imprisoned together. I think the Stripes and Scoia’tael are probably working together to find them and save them, but in the meantime, Iorveth and Roche decide to get to know each other a bit better. Featuring muscle spasms, blow jobs, and pain kink.

Eskel/Lambert (okay, a little out of place here, but eh, it’s in the doc and I am still working on it)

Started for a prompt on tumblr, Eskel and Lambert end up fighting and, trying to keep the peace, Eskel casts axii on Lambert. Which leads to Lambert confessing that he bit Eskel because it’s the only way he could get his mouth on him. This leads to some dodged confessions, some frottage, and some snarky banter, because of course it does. 

Tempt Not a Desperate Man aka the Fuck or Die series that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours

Fisting

The next part of the series, where Roche struggles with the fact that he’s been high key horny ever since the encounter in the woods with Iorveth and nothing is satisfying him. Iorveth, on the other hand, is jealous and annoyed that Roche keeps going to the whorehouse.

Then Roche decides to make a potentially suicidal move and enters the forest to try to find the clearing from last time. And, as you might guess from my heading, fisting will be happening. 

Iorveth POV: The Chaperon

Okay, I don’t actually have much of this written, but it’s really cute so - Roche keeps using his chaperon as a cum rag, so Iorveth knits and/or sews him a new one.

“Human Bootlicker”

PWP where Iorveth jokingly suggestions Roche should surrender on his knees - and then Roche does. And asks Iorveth to take his prize. Featuring Roche coming all over Iorveth’s boots from getting his face fucked, then leaning down and licking up the mess while Iorveth watches and then comes over his face.

One Accidental Proposal and Five Attempts At Accepting

So one of the themes of this ‘verse is gonna be the Elven Baths where the Roses of Remembrance grow. As in, they decide to make the elven baths a place they meet up. This is the first time Iorveth takes Roche there, and Roche does not know what significance the roses have. But he DOES know that Iorveth blushes cutely when he tucks a rose behind Iorveth’s ear, so...

Iorveth would like to accept, only Roche doesn’t know WHAT he’s trying to accept.

The Legend

So in the game, there is a legend around the statue of elven lovers above the elven baths. “Legend has it the lover’s sighs are enchanted within these very stones, though only those in love can hear them.” 

Iorveth overhears his Scoia’tael gossiping about the legend and comes to an abrupt realization that Roche and him were the ones they were hearing. Oops?

Standalone Fics

Letters

This is kind of a bittersweet WiP that I mostly wrote in one go and then went to sleep and kinda lost the will for it. BUT the premise is that post-Witcher 3 Roche is in charge of Temeria and his brooding is interrupted when he receives a letter sealed with a forget me not pressed into wax. Iorveth continues to send letters describing his life as a “civilian” in Nilfgaard and how much he hates it and Roche relates a little bit too much. Then Iorveth decides to run away and live on the streets as a musician and he might inspire Roche to start learning the cello and presumably at some point, they meet.

Identity Porn

Iorveth and Roche have a meet cute in Flotsam’s tavern while the elf is listening in for local gossip and Roche is passing through on his way to meet with the other northern kings to get support in fighting against the new emerging threat of the Scoia’tael. Neither knows who the other is, but that doesn’t stop them from starting a relationship where they meet every time Roche passes through Flotsam. But their house of cards can only last so long, and at some point, they will meet as enemies. Who knows what happens then? idk, not me.

Gwent pinup calendar aka Cards Out for Your Country

Hahaha, so I started this series in response to some WONDERFUL art of Roche with his Tits Out For Temeria. And obviously we need more of that, so I created a list of 24 characters who are asked to pose for some pinup art, all in the name of Gwent. So far, I’ve only finished Dandelion’s pose/the introduction, but I do plan to do as many of them as I physically can.

Gwent Game in Corvo Bianco

Wow, I didn’t even remember this WiP, so uh... clearly I haven’t worked on it in a while. But it’s Iorveth’s POV of how surprisingly comfortable he is in Corvo Bianco and Iorveth and Geralt get drunk and play gwent.

Zoltan/Jaskier/Priscilla

A giftfic for Wibbly that involves Zoltan being sappy about his bards and then Priscilla dominates them. Featuring all my headcanons about dwarven genitalia (two holes, one with a retractible dick).

Dijkstra fics

Noticing Roche’s Fucked Up Relationship

Anyone else randomly finding themselves shipping Dijkstra/Roche? No? Ah well. For this one Dijkstra observes Roche and sees a few too many reminders of himself with Vizimir, except Foltest is no Vizimir, and Roche clearly hasn’t learned to set up boundaries. Dijkstra feels weirdly compelled to help him figure that out before Foltest destroys him.

Developing Respect Fic

Also known as “let’s torture Roche 1.0!” This fic switches between the present, where Roche has woken up in a cell somewhere unknown and it brings back far too many memories for him to be entirely sure of what is happening when. In the past, he was captured by Redania while on a mission for Foltest, long before he was anyone notable. Dijkstra comes to visit, curious about this prisoner who refuses to break, to even tell them his name or confirm his country (but he has a Temerian tramp stamp, so they know lmao). So Dijkstra decides that this is not a man who will be broken through torture and decides to try conversation instead. The idea is to show them slowly gaining respect for each other, but like, obviously Roche is still a prisoner. Eventually, he’s returned to Temeria in a prisoner exchange, but meanwhile, in the present, Roche is all alone, with not even guards around and no way to free himself.

and that’s all!! I am... legitimately scared to count, tbh. This post is so fucking long, the number cannot be good for my heart. But, that said, please come talk to me about any ideas you find interesting!! Or anything you have questions about! 

And if you made it this far down the list... wow. Thank you, you rock.

[morningfears]

Back Home

Rating: PG-13 (Blink and you’ll miss it homophobia, some swearing)

Summary: Calum and Elizabeth are going to Hangout with Michael and Crystal in Gulf Shores, Alabama. However, they’ve decided to make a stop in Elizabeth’s hometown, first. Calum gets to see firsthand what growing up in the middle of nowhere was like and, while he’s at it, ask her parents for her hand in marriage.

Word Count: 7k

Calum watched as sunlight filtered through the thick growth of trees lining the road and into the car, illuminating Elizabeth’s face as they drove along a seemingly deserted back road in some tiny Alabama town he didn’t remember the name of. Her eyes, a beautiful green that he hoped their children would someday inherit, were hidden beneath a pair of sunglasses she’d stolen from him but he could clearly see how she was feeling from the smile on her lips and the way that she relaxed in the driver’s seat.

They were on their way to her parents’ house, located in an even tinier Alabama town, where they planned to spend a few days before joining Michael and Crystal in Gulf Shores for the Hangout Festival. It was a new experience for him, he’d never been to either her hometown or Hangout, but he found himself looking forward to it. He found himself looking forward to the blistering heat (“It’s actually not that bad yet,” she’d told him as they packed their bags, “it’s only hit ninety once this week.”) and the solitude she’d described when telling him about growing up in the middle of the woods. But his excitement was nothing compared to hers.

Elizabeth had always been vocal about her dislike of southern politics, southern hypocrisy, southern weather (“It can’t make up it’s damn mind! One day, it’s eighty degrees and sunshine. The next, it’s thirty and you’ve got snow flurries. But maybe that’s just April,” she’d once said, and Calum had never forgotten it), and her own accent - one that Calum could hear but just barely - but he knew she missed certain things. She missed the food - her mother’s, specifically - and some of the people. She missed being able to smile at someone as she walked down the sidewalk and not get a funny look in return. She missed manners, being expected to say hello and ask how someone was doing when she walked into a shop, and not getting a dirty look if she called someone over the age of thirty ma’am. 

But, more than anything, she missed her family.

Though Calum and Elizabeth had been together for nearly three years, he’d only met her parents once. It was at her college graduation, less than a year into their relationship, and the meeting was fine. Her parents, while polite, didn’t exactly love him right off the bat. They hadn’t cared how well the band was doing, that he’d made a career out of music and that it was going well, nor did they care about how much he already loved their daughter. He was different, a musician that didn’t look anything like the sweet southern boy her mother had always imagined she’d marry, and that was enough for them to write him off as a novelty.

They imagined that Elizabeth would grow tired of Calum after a while, that she’d get tired of the long, lonely nights while he was away on tour, and that she would begin to see things from their point of view. They imagined that she would tire of California, that her southern roots were planted just deep enough, and that she would tire of Calum and return home to them. But, so far, she hadn’t.

And Calum desperately hoped that she never would.

While her parents had accepted her desire to stay in California and to keep Calum in her life - her mother even liked him, enough to bake him a loaf of bread that apparently no one else in her family liked - there was a bit of a rift. Calum’s parents traveled to see him every so often (and he packed up to see them when he could) but Elizabeth’s parents didn’t like to travel. She told him once that her mother was so afraid of flying that even a Xanax couldn’t calm her enough to get on a flight and that she was such an awful car passenger that a twenty-nine hour drive, even. with regular stops, might actually kill her. They’d only been to California once, to see her graduate, and that had been such an ordeal that Elizabeth never asked again.

Her schedule, while freer now that she’d finished school, was less flexible than his own. She had work, a job that required her to stay in Los Angeles most of the time, and that made going home (as well as joining him on tour) next to impossible. She went home for big holidays, Christmas and Thanksgiving, but even that was starting to become difficult as she and Calum began to intertwine their lives.

She hadn’t been home since November - they’d spent Christmas with his family in Australia - and was beyond homesick. Most of the meals she made were recipes her mother talked her through over FaceTime so when Michael and Crystal asked him if they would want to join them for a week in Gulf Shores, Calum jumped at the opportunity to surprise his homesick girlfriend. He worked with her boss - a lovely woman from, coincidentally, Georgia, who had become more like a mentor than a boss - to get her a week of vacation. He called her mom and asked her if it would be alright for them to stay for a weekend before they headed to the beach (of course, she was so excited that she cried and Calum didn’t quite understand half of her words through her accent but he felt the love). And he managed to keep their final destination a secret until they landed in Mobile.

Just before they landed in Mobile, when the pilot announced their destination, the look on Elizabeth’s face was more than enough to make Calum’s year. He took a picture of it, just to remember the look of awe and love she’d given him, before he kissed her and confirmed that they were headed to see her parents. He told her, as they navigated the airport and headed toward the car rental, that they would be spending the weekend with them before heading down to Gulf Shores to spend a few days exploring and experiencing Hangout.

He was certain the smile hadn’t disappeared since.

Although he’d offered to drive, Elizabeth refused to let him behind the wheel. Calum normally drove on their outings - mostly because he was a much calmer driver than her and knew how to handle Los Angeles traffic without having a minor panic attack - but she’d been insistent. The closest airport to her parents’ house was in Mobile and the quickest route took them through a maze of backroads that, according to her and Michael (who had gotten lost on more than one occasion during his trips down south), didn’t appear on either Apple or Google Maps. Elizabeth, however, knew the route like the back of her hand and was comfortable navigating the winding curves and deserted country roads.

“Did you go to Mobile a lot as a kid?” Calum asked, his voice breaking the silence for the first time since they’d left the city limits. He’d been content to just look, to soak it all in, and apparently, so had she. It was like she was recommitting the entire route to memory and he didn’t want to disturb her. However, he was curious and, with her, he never let his questions go unasked.

“Not really,” she hummed, glancing over at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the road beyond the windshield. “It’s almost a three hour drive. It wasn’t a big deal to make the trip but it was more special occasion, you know? We came down here to get dresses for formals and, like, my prom dress. I came with my grandparents some because my paw-paw went to the doctor down here. He took me to Hot Topic for the first time and my mom swears I haven’t been normal since.”

Calum grinned at that, both at the casual use of ‘paw-paw’ (something he knew she hated saying because of the obviousness of it’s origin and the way it seemed to draw out her accent) and the mental image of a pre-teen Elizabeth exploring Hot Topic for the first time. There were pieces of her, bits of her past, that he had never seen. They were never intentionally hidden, it wasn’t as if she locked them away and refused to show them to him, but they were just things that didn’t really come up in the course of their daily lives. Memories of childhood, old habits that had long since been forgotten, seemed to return to her as they drove through the curved roads and he was looking forward to getting know who she was before she moved to LA.

The drive passed far quicker than either imagined it would. Calum watched Elizabeth’s face more often than he watched the scenery pass them by but both were equally captivating. She pointed out certain buildings, little shops or restaurants, that she’d visited as a child. She informed him when they left one town and entered another. She made him promise they could stop by a diner, a little building that looked like it could only fit about five people at a time, on their way back to Gulf Shores (they would make the return trip, the same way they’d just come, and drive through Mobile to get there), as well as made him promise they could stop and get ice cream at a farmer’s market that would apparently ruin his desire to eat any other ice cream ever again.

It was endearing, seeing her so excited for such small things, and Calum decided that he would do whatever she wanted, stop wherever she wanted, just to see the carefree smile she’d been sporting since they stepped out of the airport remain on her lips.

The closer they got to her hometown, the more relaxed she grew in the driver’s seat. She smiled as she pointed out her high school (“It sucked. I hated every moment of it, but it still feels nice seeing the building, you know?”) and the one gas station in her hometown. Calum smiled as he imagined her driving these very roads as a teenager, singing along to All Time Low and wholeheartedly agreeing with the pop punk standard of needing to leave her hometown. He marveled at the lack of traffic lights, at the lack of buildings, and grew more and more astonished the farther they got from her high school. She’d told him she grew up in the middle of nowhere, far away from civilization, but he thought she was joking. However, as he realized that he could count on one hand the number of buildings they’d seen since leaving the city limits of the town closest to her home, he realized that that wasn’t the case at all. 

But it was nice, in an odd sort of way. It felt serene, like a quiet place where you could disconnect from the world, and Calum wondered what it was like to grow up here.

“It was miserable,” Elizabeth answered candidly when he asked. “The nearest grocery store is twenty minutes away, if you’re speeding, and they don’t even have half of what you need. It’s just the essentials, really, like milk and bread and stuff. If you wanted anything good, like ice cream or candy or snacks, you’d have to go to Walmart. The closest Walmart, the only place where you can get stuff like dish soap and good shampoo - well, as good as Dove is, I guess - and toothpaste that doesn’t cost six bucks a tube is forty-five minutes away. The nearest hospital is an hour away. Same with the nearest mall, movie theater, bowling alley… The list goes on. There wasn’t much to do here as a kid. You just kind of exist, you know? I played outside al to as a kid. Shocking, I know,” she added, grinning in Calum’s direction as she caught the surprised look on his face.

He couldn’t imagine Elizabeth, the girl who hated her hands being dirty more than anything else, playing outside in the southern heat. He almost asked what her neighbors were like, what the other kids in her neighborhood were like, when she added, “I didn’t have neighbors so I just kind of had to entertain myself. It was lonely and boring.”

Calum watched as she focused on a turn she was making, down a road just off the main highway, and he imagined that they were getting closer to her parents’ house. “Do you miss anything about it?” he asked, his voice soft as he watched her bring one hand up to play with the butterfly pendant laying against her skin. “Other than your family and the dogs, of course.”

“Of course,” she laughed as she glanced at him and smiled. She paused for a moment, as if to think about it, before she shrugged. “Not really,” she hummed as she returned her gaze to the road ahead. “I mean, I miss the food but if I really want it, I can make most things myself. The only thing I haven’t mastered yet is collards and I think that’s just because I can’t get good ones in LA. I miss the quiet sometimes, mostly when I’m trying to sleep, and being able to see the stars but I love living in an actual city with things to do and places to go. Yeah, some stores are still twenty minutes from our house but if I really need something, I can get it from somewhere else. And, I mean, I love the diversity of the city. I didn’t know anything about other cultures, about other people, when I moved to LA and it’s been amazing to see it all and to see how open everyone is to new things. I mean, yeah, I hate some things about LA and it’s a different world for me, for sure, but, at the end of the day, it’s home now.”

Calum nodded his understanding at that. He realized that she loved being surrounded by options. She loved having the ability to get in the car and go get coffee or just go to Target if she felt like it and her hometown wasn’t exactly the most stimulating place he’d ever found himself. Everything looked as if it had seen better days, decades ago, and he didn’t begrudge her not wanting to return for good. However, he was glad that he was getting the opportunity to at least spend a weekend in the middle of nowhere with her and that joy was only magnified as they approached a small dirt road that he quickly realized housed her parents’ home.

“Am I going to get to hear your southern accent?” he asked, an excited lilt to his voice as they drove down a tree lined dirt road, careful not to hit the rocks and tree limbs that cluttered it. “It’s so faint now,” he reminded her. She, like him, had adapted to Los Angeles and he accent had faded. It was still there, more so than his own, but it only truly appeared when she was angry or excited or exceptionally tired and unable to control her speech pattern. It was faint and Calum missed it. He thought it was cute, he liked the way it sounded when she said his name, but he knew it had been a source of annoyance for her when she first arrived in the city. He also knew that she herself wasn’t very fond of it so she didn’t lament its loss at all.

“Probably. At least, it’ll be thicker here than it is in LA,” she confirmed with a sigh, not at all pleased by the thought. “I try not to control my voice so much around my family. I just talk, I guess. But I still don’t get why you like it so much. It’s gross. And, besides, you’ll get tired of the southern twang real quick with my family. I’ll provide translation services if necessary.”

Calum laughed at the deadpan comment and nodded his appreciation. She knew how much trouble he had understanding her mother sometimes (usually when she was angry and ranting during a phone call) and had warned him that the rest of her family - with the exception of her brother - was worse. The accents grew thicker and thicker, harder and harder to understand, and she herself sometimes found it difficult to navigate a conversation. But Calum was looking forward to seeing her at ease among members of her family and grew excited as he spotted a comfortable white house looming in the distance.

“Here we are,” she informed him with a smile, her cheeks round and pink (from the heat or excitement, he couldn’t tell) and her teeth on display, as she caught sight of the cars parked out front. “Holy shit, everyone is here.”

Everyone seemed to be an understatement. There were several cars, all parked in front of her parents’ home, and Calum couldn’t even begin to guess who had appeared to greet her. Her mother had told him that her brother, his wife, and their children would be there to greet them. He also imagined that her nana would be there. However, he couldn’t fathom who else her mother could have invited. But, as Elizabeth put the car in park, a horde of teenagers, all in their mid to late teens, rushed out of the front door, down the steps, and swarmed the car.

“Lizzie, you’re home,” one girl with blonde hair and braces cheered as Elizabeth climbed out of the car. Though she looked to be about sixteen, she stood several inches taller than Elizabeth and dwarfed her as she pulled her into a hug. “I missed you! I have so much to tell you. I got a car! I can drive now. And a boyfriend! You went to high school with his brother, Austin.”

“Let her go, May,” another of the girls, this one shorter than Elizabeth and decidedly the oldest of the group, urged as she shoved her arms between the pair, “I want to hug her.” She wrapped her arms around Elizabeth’s waist and pouted up at her as she said, “Lizzie, I start college in August. I’m going to LSU and I don’t know what to do. Help me!”

“She’s my aunt!” A high pitched voice squeaked as a short girl with glasses and braces that bore a clear family resemblance to Elizabeth shoved through the others. “Aunt Lizzie!”

“Hey, guys,” she laughed, clearly overwhelmed by the affection as she struggled to fully climb out of the car. “It’s good to see you all, too. What are y’all doing here?”

“We waited to have maw maw’s birthday party today so we could celebrate that, you being home, and me graduating high school all at once. Oh my god, is that a boy? Lizzie has a boyfriend!” the second girl, whose name Calum still didn’t know, yelled as she caught sight of him climbing out of the car. He offered her a smile, amused by the apparent novelty of Elizabeth bringing someone home, and waved at her before he reached back into the car to grab his bag. “Lizzie’s never brought anyone home before,” she told Calum as he walked around the car to stand at Elizabeth’s side. “We thought she was a lesbian but just didn’t want to tell us.”

“Oh my god, Haley,” Elizabeth groaned as she reached out and nudged the shorter girl away from her. “Go away. All of you, go inside. I’ll be there in a second.” When the girls turned and began running back toward the house, Elizabeth groaned and turned to bury her face in the crook of Calum’s neck. “Jesus, fuck. This is why I never brought anyone home,” she deadpanned as she glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m going to go ahead and apologize for everything that’s about to happen.”

Calum, who was struggling to hold back his laughter, shook his head at her statement. “Don’t worry about it,” he assured her with a smile as he leaned in to press a kiss to the crown of her head.  “Family can be embarrassing but, at the end of the day, they love you and want to see you happy.” He paused for a moment, thinking about the comment the girl had made, before he asked, “Before we go in, they don’t know you’re bi, do they?”

“No,” she sighed as she removed herself from his grasp and opened the back door to grab her own bag from the seat. “They… I don’t know. I can’t tell them and, I mean, right now, it doesn’t matter. But, no. There are a lot of things they don’t know about me. I didn’t realize you’d be thrown to the wolves on the very first night so I’m going to apologize again for anything they say that’s offensive. I’ve tried so many times to educate them but it’s so tiring when they don’t want to learn, you know? My mom tries, sometimes, but it’s easier to just pretend for a few days than keep pounding my head against a brick wall.”

Calum wasn’t sure what he could say to that statement and he knew that, sometimes, all she needed was a hand to hold. So, instead of putting his foot in his mouth, he gripped her hand in his and brought it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss against the back. When she shot him a halfhearted smile, he squeezed it a little tighter and said, “Lead the way, love.”

Though Calum had been overwhelmed by the barrage of teenage girls that bombarded the car, they were nothing compared to the barrage of adults that swarmed them as they entered the house. He held Elizabeth’s bag and watched as, one by one, adult after adult wrapped Elizabeth in hugs and shouted variations of, “Lizzie Belle!” He stood off to the side, a small smile on his face, as he watched them tell her how proud they were of her for finding a life in Los Angeles or how beautiful she looked. It was sweet, an onslaught of love, but he imagined that she was incredibly uncomfortable with the outpouring of compliments as she thanked everyone. She didn’t like to be the center of attention, not when there were so many sets of eyes on her, but he could tell that she was glad to be at home as she hugged her nana and held on tight.

“Here, let me help you with that,” a voice called over the din of the living room and Calum glanced over to meet the eyes of a man he recognized as her older brother. The family resemblance wasn’t very strong - likely due to their different fathers - but he could see bits and pieces of Elizabeth in him. They had the same dark, wavy hair (though her brothers had started graying) and kind smile but that was where the similarity ended. Her brother, slightly taller than Calum and significantly bigger, looked as if he spent a good deal of his time outdoors and was covered with tattoos.

“Thanks,” Calum said as he handed the bag to Elizabeth’s brother and followed him through the small path he’d carved behind the crowd of relatives. “Calum,” he introduced, holding his hand out as they entered a long hallway, “nice to meet you.”

“Josh,” he returned as he shook Calum’s hand before gesturing to a room with a closed door, “this is Lizzie’s room. Y’all’ll be in here.” Josh dropped the bag onto Elizabeth’s bed and Calum followed suit before he paused to glance around the room.

The room was exactly what he’d imagined it would be. The curtains were black and red with a light blocking curtain behind them. The queen sized bed was tall, so tall that Elizabeth needed a step-stool to climb onto it, and covered with a black duvet with white polka dots and nearly a million pillows at the head. Posters covered every inch of the walls and Calum spotted All Time Low, Green Day, and even a few One Direction posters thrown into the mix. A bookshelf rested in one corner and was filled to the brim with books, CDs, DVDs, and old trinkets. He spotted a stack of yearbooks on the top shelf and decided that his night was going to spent combing through her memories.

As Calum lost himself in exploring her bedroom, he didn’t realize that a small velvet box had fallen out of his bag. He’d tucked it into the pocket for safety but it jostled loose when he tossed the bag onto the bed and hit the floor with a thud. As he ran his fingers along the CDs littering her bookshelf, stopping and grinning when he came across their self-titled album - something he was absolutely going to tease Elizabeth about having later - Josh bent down to pick it up.

“You know, Lizzie’s never really been a jewelry person but, from the way she talks about you, I can see her being alright with wearing this.”

Calum turned, surprised as he had forgotten that Josh was still in the room, and blinked as he stared at the box in his hand. He didn’t know what to say. He’d been planning on asking her parents for permission, something he knew she thought was old-fashioned but a sweet gesture, and was mildly terrified of the response he was going to get. However, as Josh smiled at him and held the box out to him, Calum felt a small bit of ease wash over him.

“You think?” he asked as he shoved the box back into his bag and ensured that it wouldn’t fall out again. “I don’t - I know we’ve just met but I…” He paused, unsure of what he should say to him, before he simply stated, “I really love her.”

“I figured,” he nodded as he took a seat on the edge of her bed and jerked his head in the direction of the living room. “Anyone willing to put up with all this has to be in love. Momma said you were the one who called and asked if y’all could come down,” Josh said as he glanced toward the door of the room. “Lizzie doesn’t get to come home much so it meant a lot that you called and set this up for her. Momma’s hard to get through to sometimes. She doesn’t think anyone’s good enough for her kids, especially when they keep them so far away from home, but that made her happy. That gave her a reason to like you. I don’t think they’ll say no, if that’s what you’re after. But, you do know that Lizzie won’t care what they say, right?”

Calum was floored to hear Josh speak so candidly about their mother. Elizabeth was never so open about it. She rarely spoke about the bad with her family - only when she really needed to convey the importance of something - but he knew that there was a tension that he would need to overcome where her family was concerned. He was more of afraid of their denial than hers but to hear Josh predict that they would approve made his heartbeat calm and the tension in his shoulders ease.

“I know,” he laughed as he imagined Elizabeth raging against a denial from her parents. She was an adult, she was free to do as she pleased, and if she wanted to marry Calum, she would. However, having that approval was more of a symbolic gesture that Calum hoped would extend an olive branch to her parents and assure them that he wasn’t trying to steal their daughter or keep her from seeing them. He opened his mouth to thank Josh when footsteps interrupted him.

He glanced up to see Elizabeth step into the room with a small child in her arms, no older than two, and Calum felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. “There you are,” she hummed as she glanced at Calum and gave him a smile before she turned her attention to her brother. “Dad’s looking for you. They’re getting the crawfish ready to put out. They need some more hands.”

“Alright,” he sighed as he stood from the bed and clapped Calum on the shoulder. “Nice meeting you, man. We’ll have a beer later, talk some more. Lizzie says you’re in a band. I wanna know about your music,” he said before he leaned in and wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s waist and pressed a kiss to the baby’s head. “Hey, girl. Good to see you. Don’t drop my child, please.”

“Like I would,” Elizabeth huffed as she nudged her brother away from her. “You literally threw me across a room as a baby. I’m clearly not the one anyone needs to be concerned about. Isn’t that right, Sawyer?” The baby in her arms cooed, grinning up at her, and Josh rolled his eyes as he let go. 

“Keep bringing up the past, damn. Can’t let anyone make any mistakes around here,” he grumbled playfully as he left the room and left Calum, Elizabeth, and Sawyer alone.

“Sorry for letting him steal you,” she apologized as she stepped closer to him and smiled when he reached out to offer the baby his finger. “I try desperately hard to keep anyone I like away from him. When I was twelve, he called out this guy I had a crush on on Facebook and the guy never spoke to me again. He was, uh, a little… overprotective?” She paused, glancing down at the baby in her arms, before she cooed at her. “You’re gonna have such tough time dating, honey. He’s gonna give your dates the ultimate interrogation and it’s not going to end well for anyone involved.”

Calum laughed as Elizabeth pouted at the baby and felt his heart melt as he watched them interact. He’d been thinking a lot lately, about children and marriage and the future, and every image of the future he got, Elizabeth was in it. He wanted her to be the one walking down the aisle to meet him. He wanted her to be the one to carry his children. He wanted her to be the one he grew old with. He wanted her, then and forever, and it made his heart ache in the best way to see her look so happy holding a small child.

“You look beautiful like that,” Calum breathed before he could stop himself. When Elizabeth rolled her eyes, brushing him off with a comment about how much she’d been sweating from the sweltering heat, he shook his head. “You always look beautiful but you look even more so holding the baby,” he elaborated, smiling as she glanced down at the giggling girl in her arms. “It looks natural.”

“It’s taken us a few times to get this right,” she hummed as she tickled Sawyer and grinned at her. “She threw up on me the first few times I held her. But we’re good now, right, honey?” When Sawyer cooed at her, reaching out to tug at her hair, Elizabeth smiled and glanced at Calum. When she met his amused glance, she grinned and shook her head. “I know what you meant, bub. It’s nice. I’ve thought about it and I want it - children, a family - with you. I’m sure there are other things we need to work on before that but I want that.”

“I do, too,” Calum confirmed with a grin as he leaned over to press a soft kiss to her cheek. When the baby slapped at his chest, he laughed and pulled away from Elizabeth with a grin, “But maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about our family plans, huh?”

“Nope,” she agreed with a smile,  “not when there’s a cranky little lady that needs her mom and two adults that need beer and crawfish.”

Calum quickly found himself in the backyard, passed around by relatives as Elizabeth introduced him to each one. Her mother, who had been finishing frosting a red velvet cake, grinned when she spotted him and nudged an uncle that Calum had already forgotten the name of out of the way. He was almost surprised at the hug he received, the affection was a little startling, but he decided not to question it as Elizabeth’s mother wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

“Thank you,” she said as the others around them dispersed to give them a moment to talk. “My Belle doesn’t get to come home much and she’s always so worried about taking off so I’m so glad you convinced her to come home for a little bit. I’ve missed my baby. And it’s good to see you again. I haven’t seen you in nearly two years. I miss your hair,” she laughed as she pointed out the buzz cut he’d gotten recently.

“Lizzie does, too,” he laughed as he rubbed a hand over the bleached hair on top of his head. “She liked playing with it while we were watching TV,” he added quickly, afraid of how the first part of his sentence sounded. “I’m glad that everyone was able to come. She’s missed everyone.”

“She has,” her mom nodded as she glanced around the backyard and smiled as she caught sight of Elizabeth sitting with the girls and chatting animatedly about whatever topic they’d gotten started on. “Everyone’s missed her. It’s not the same without her here but she’s happy in LA. You make her happy. I’m glad that y’all have each other,” her mother told him with a smile and Calum breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the sincerity in her tone. He was afraid that Josh had misread the situation, that he wasn’t nearly as favored as he imagined he was, but to hear her say that eased the nerves he felt in the pit of his stomach. However, they quickly returned as she turned to face him and said, “Josh said you had something you wanted to ask us?”

Calum blinked, surprised he was being put on the spot so quickly, and nodded slowly. “I, uh, yeah. But it can wait. It’s fine.”

Her mother smiled at him and Calum could see the understanding on her face. “If it’s what I think you want to ask, I’d prefer you didn’t. The answer is yes, by the way, from both of us.  But we still want to hear your proposal.”

Calum laughed as he found himself being dragged into the house by Elizabeth’s parents. Her brother and grandmother — whose opinion really, truly mattered — followed them into the laundry room (the only room that seemed to be empty) and listened carefully as Calum asked for permission and detailed the proposal he had planned in Gulf Shores.

The rest of the weekend seemed to pass in a blur. Elizabeth taught Calum how to eat crawfish - her brother showed him how to suck the head, though he didn’t imagine he would be giving that a try - and her maw maw taught him how to shell butterbeans and peas as they sat in the shade of a pecan tree and worked on seven five-gallon buckets of peas and beans. They took him to a fish camp, an old cabin-like building in the middle of nowhere that made the best friend fish he’d ever had, and showed him the river where they went tubing when Elizabeth and Josh were young. And on their last night, he and Elizabeth sat on her parent’s front porch with a bucket of peas a piece and watched as the dusty afternoon turned to night.

“I’m really glad you did this,” she hummed as she glanced away from the bucket in front of her and over at Calum. “I never thought I’d say this but maybe all I needed was to come home and shell peas for a few days.”

Calum, whose fingers were sore and stained from the hulls, couldn’t imagine having spent every summer in this fashion but it was a nice glimpse into her world and he agreed. It had been restful, something of a recharge, and he found himself grateful for the experience. “It’s been nice,” Calum agreed with a smile as he watched her work for a moment. “It’s been good to see you in your element. I know that this isn’t your life anymore but it was nice to see where you come from.”

“I’m glad it didn’t send you running for the hills,” she teased as she tossed a hull into the bucket and shook her head. “You know, if you’d told me as a kid that I would move to LA, I wouldn’t have believed you. But if you’d have said that I’d move to LA, find someone as amazing as you, fall in love, and then bring you home someday to show you what my life was like before? I would’ve called you insane. But it felt right. Letting you in, letting you see this part of my life. It felt… it felt like it was time, you know?”

Calum reached out to squeeze Elizabeth’s hand but said nothing as they continued to shell their peas. If he’d spoken, he would’ve poured his heart out to her. He would’ve confessed just how much he loved her, just how much she meant to him, and would’ve ended up proposing on her parents’ front porch. Instead, he let his touch convey everything he wanted to say and hoped that would last them until they made it to the beach. 

Saying goodbye was a rough affair. Elizabeth’s mother and nana cried. Her father held onto her for so long that her mother had to pull them apart. They all made her promise to visit again soon and sent them on their way with enough food to feed an army. Elizabeth let Calum drive on the return trip and watched as he navigated the streets she regarded with a fondness that she never imagined she would feel. She felt bittersweet, glad to have gone home but sad to be leaving, and hoped that the festival would cheer her mood.

However, what she was met with was something far greater than she expected.

As they arrived at the beach house she, Calum, Michael, and Crystal would share for the weekend, she was under the impression that they’d arrived before Michael and Crystal. However, as they entered the house to find it decorated with photos from her and Calum’s relationship as well as flowers, she realized that she was wrong. They’d been in, long enough to help Calum set up his surprise, and were waiting somewhere in the city for Calum to make his move. It didn’t click, not at first, what the point of the set up was. But as she dropped her bag and began to look at each of the photos, it soon dawned on her.

“Calum,” she began, her voice quiet as she turned to him, only to see him on one knee behind her. “Oh, fuck.”

At her exclamation, Calum laughed and held his hand out for her to grab. “Come here,” he laughed, smiling as she stepped closer to him and allowed him to hold her hand in his. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while and even spending a weekend shelling peas can’t deter me,” Calum teased as he glanced up at her. Her hand rested over her mouth, her fingers shaking as she watched him open the small velvet box to reveal a beautiful ring. “I love you, so much. Whenever I imagine the future, I imagine you in it. I want it all with you. I want to have a family with you, I want to grow old with you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life by your side. I love you, Lizzie. Will you marry me?”

Elizabeth, though she imagined the proposal was coming, couldn’t speak. Instead, she nodded her agreement and kneeled onto the floor to wrap her arms around Calum’s neck. He laughed, relief and joy bubbling in his chest, as he wrapped his own arms around her waist and held her tight against his chest. He held her there for a moment, relishing in the moment, before he pulled away just enough to press a kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he breathed against them, his eyes shining with joy as he moved to place the ring on her finger, “I can’t wait for forever with you.”

“Forever isn’t long enough when I’m with you, Hood,” she quipped, her smile bright and her eyes glittering with unshed tears as she pressed her lips to his once more. “I love you, Cal. Thank you for being the most amazing man and for loving me the way you do.”

Calum knew that the future was rapidly approaching. He knew that, no matter how far away it seemed, everything would change in the blink of an eye. But with Elizabeth by his side, with her hand in his, he imagined that he could tackle whatever the universe threw at him.

And as they sat on the back patio, curled up together on a lounge chair and looking out at the water with Michael and Crystal to their left and the sound of pre-Hangout revelry to their right, Calum couldn’t think of any other place he’d rather be.

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: This is literally just seven thousand words of self-indulgent bullshit. I don’t know. I felt it and I’ve wanted to do this for a while. It wouldn’t leave me alone so I spent my day alternating between this and Rose Tattoo. Also, with tag lists I lowkey feel like I’m annoying people if I tag them (which is the point, I know) but tell me if you don’t want to be tagged in everything. Anyway. I need to write something for Ash now. I’m, like, in an Ash mood.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added! If you don’t want to be tagged in everything, just let me know): @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijutreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle , @p0laroidpictures​ , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke​ , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss​ , @blueviiolence​ , @loveroflrh​ , @empathycth​ , @luckyduckydoo​ , @tobefalling​ , @bandsandbooksaremykink​ , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985​ , @wokeupinaustralia​ , @lucidlrh​ , @canterburyfiction​ , @cal-is-not-on-branding​ , @jaacknaano​ , @findingliam-o​ , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1​ , @sammyrenae68​ , @flowerthug​ , 

[make-me-imagine]

Hello love ♡

First of all, I want to congratulate you on your 5500 follower milestone! That's incredible♡! I love your writings, Mera, and I think that your ship celebration is a wonderful idea!

Could I please request a male matchup for Marvel, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings/Hobbit? With the additional "What you did for your first date" and "Ways they show you they love you without words" headcanons for all three of them? I'm female, she/her.

To begin with, I'm full of contradictions, utterly boring, very insecure and highly complicated. I would say my strongest personality traits are my kindness, calmness and sympathy. It's almost impossible to scare or upset me, because I always see the good in a person and recognize where anger, frustration and despair come from. There's no cruelty in me at all. I'm open and impartial towards everything and everyone, without any judgment or prejudice. I also have a calming/grounding effect on other people and animals, which is great because I honestly love all sorts of animals (I'm also a vegetarian because I refuse to intentionally hurt any animal). I have a faszination for chaos and rebellion, but am quite submessive/timid and a clean-/control freak myself. I'm always well-meaning and there to help others. I despise people who enjoy the suffering of others, just because they have the 'power' to. I'm very open-minded and I think that every opinion matters and that whatever someone has to say is important, at least to them and therefore for me. I will never ignore someone's sorrows and suffering and I try my hardest to help and comfort as best I can. But, even though I see the good in everything, I'm very insecure myself and have little love and understanding for myself. I have a very bad self-esteem and not a particularly positive self-perception, which mostly defines my actions. It makes me believe that I'm a burden to others and that I annoy them. I feel like I'm not "worthy" of love/there's nothing lovable about me, that there are too many problems in contrast to the little good things. Nevertheless, I would never change myself for anything or anyone, I'm who I'm. For me, dealing and interacting with people is really difficult, because I'm so clumsy and nervous around them and easily feel like I'm making a fool out of myself. Another reason is that I fear to be rejected and thrown aside when someone sees how boring, problematic and annoying I actually am. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I'm; I'm sure you wouldn't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (I'm always wearing only black, have dyed my hair a little and two ear piercings). I almost never like the "typical" heroes and righteous characters. And somehow I have such a undergoing disdain for any figure in the police and law department. Because I'm easily sad and not a funny/joking person, I like and enjoy people who aren't too serious themselves. And I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on and by your side, no matter what. I've always felt like I don't belong anywhere, like I'm the only cat in a room full of dogs. That's probably why I have a soft spot for the weirdos, outcasts, loners and "crazy" ones. Though, in my opinion, the definition of normal, crazy and real are very subjective. My whole life I've felt kinda judged, misunderstood and unwanted. People often falsely think that my unassuming nature is naivity and take my social-insecurity for aloofness and coldness. I'm also quite opinionated and aware of what I want, how I feel and who I am. I'm often questioning my surroundings, the traditions and rules and I have no problem challenging others, even authority. I'm a perfectionist, which often leads me to overthinking and that can be equally good and bad. I'm absolutely clueless in romance and totally oblivious to flirting because I'm 100% inexperienced in this stuff, but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic.

-Luna 1/2

Hey Luna, I hope you like what I came up with. You provided a bit more information than was necessary lmao, I forgot the word limit for asks was extended. BUT, it was enough to give me a good feel for who to ship you with, so I hope you like them!

All ships are under the cut: 

Marvel: 

I ship you with Clint.

Clint was my immediate thought when reading your information. He is very loyal and kind-hearted and I think would be most drawn to those who are kind, loyal, and have strong morals. He would try his best to show you how great you are through your insecurities, he loves you for who you are and sees no flaws in you. He would be very good at showing his care and love for everything you are. He does not need words to know how you feel as he is very good at seeing through you and knowing what you feel without them.

What you did for your first date: 

You would have a fun yet casual day out date.

First you would go on a walk through a nearby park, talking and joking about everything and nothing. 

Then you would go to a musical instrument museum.

He loves music too, so this would be great for both of you.

You got to see the evolution of music and instruments and listened to various kinds of music.

You spent hours in the museum together.

To finish the date of you went to a restaurant, you chose the place to go too since he knew you were vegetarian and he wanted you to share your favorite place and meals with him. 

Ways they show you they love you without words: 

He loves physical touch as well, so he would often express himself through various physical actions. 

Placing a kiss to the back of your hand, or head. 

Hugging you close to him randomly. 

Wrapping you up in his arms on the couch when watching movies as he randomly kisses the side of your head or face. 

Best Friend: 

I think your best friend would be Steve. He is a very kind and compassionate person and would be very brotherly to you. he would never force you out of your comfort zone and would often check in on you. He can sometimes be a bit serious, but it never pushy towards you. He is very caring and helps you to accept yourself and things around you. 

-

Harry Potter: 

I ship you with Harry. 

Harry is a very encouraging and accepting person and I think he would see the best in you and would never stop showing and proving to you that you are worthy of love and compassion. He would find you to be beautiful and never sees the flaws that you try to convince yourself that you have. I think he would be one of the best people to show you that you matter and are beautiful. 

What you did for your first date:

You first met at Hogwarts, and since there was not much choice in dates he chose something simple that he knew you would enjoy. 

You left during dinner and took an evening stroll around the grounds.

You stayed out past curfew and sat on a nearby hill watching the stars together.

When you began to get sleepy you snuck back in and he walked you back to your room.  

Ways they show you they love you without words:

He brings you your favorite snacks and drinks randomly. 

Randomly drapes his cloak or jacket over your shoulders when you are cold. 

Will take your hand in his and rubs his fingers softly over your skin. 

Hugs you from behind randomly. 

Will play your favorite music throughout the house when he knows that you are stressed or sad. 

Best Friend:

Hermione. She is very good at making you feel better about the world and yourself. She is always open to going on long walks and listening to you rant about anything or just to talk when needed. She is good at giving advice and never lets you feel inferior to anyone. 

-

Lotr: 

I ship you with Aragorn. 

Out of everyone, I think Aragorn would be the best suited for you. He is kind, and patient and sees the best in everyone. He would see the best in you and is very good at showing it to you too. He will always make you feel wanted and needed. He does not let anyone take you for granted and will always stand up for you. He loves that you love music and will sing for you when you are stressed or having trouble falling asleep. 

What you did for your first date:

Aragorn being Aragorn, woud take you on a horse ride to a beautiful forest.

You would go exploring and walking through the meadows.

He would share his knowledge of various plants with you and pick you flowers along the way, making you a small bouquet. 

Once it got late, you two sat on the top of a hill and watched the sunset, waiting for the stars to come out before making your way back. 

Ways they show you they love you without words:

Surprising you with flowers randomly. 

Holding your hand as you walk through town on a quiet evening. 

Bringing you various plants and taking care of them for you.

Planting you a garden with all of your favorite plants and flowers. 

Hand-making you a special pendant to wear or hang somewhere in your home. 

Best Friend:

Out of everyone, I think you would form a bond with Eowyn. She is caring and quiet, and is very easy to get along with She is very good at making people aware of their worth and of feeling wanted. She would never make you angry or disappoint you. I think you two would become so close that you consider each other family. 

xx

[marueonmain]

WINDFLOWER

part three ~ without the dolphin ~

(part one) (part two) (part three)

A/N: Thank you all so so much for reading! I never thought people would care about my writing and I am so appreciative. I’ve got messages/asks open for comments or questions.

Summary: Y/N warms up to Alex. George advises him to not be an idiot. 

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Secondhand Embarrassment. Mild Language.

Word Count: 2.3k

There was no music in the lift. There was no music to interrupt Alex's music blaring into his ears. If there were someone around, they would have heard his questionable song choice for the four-minute trip from his apartment to meet the deliveryman and back again. Not that that trip required music.

However, consider that the brain could think thousands of thoughts in four minutes, and the chances of those all being pleasant thoughts are minuscule. Why take that chance? Why not drown them all out?

DING the sliding doors opened. Alex stepped out with a bounce in his step set in-time with the backbeat of the chorus playing in his ears.

Coming from around the corner where the mailroom was, Y/N brushed past him in a flash of blue clothing. She did not seem to see him.

But he saw her, like a Where's Wally game he was not aware he was playing. He took out one of his earbuds, slipping it in his pocket. Alex was determined to be normal: to make up for the initial awkwardness of their first meeting.

Y/N walked past the lift and started for the stairs. She was on the fifth or sixth step.

"Red!" called Alex.

"Hmm? Oh, hello," she said, smiling.

"How are you doing?" It was uncomfortable for him to be on a lower plane than to whom he was speaking, but Y/N was not moving, so neither was he.

"Tired."

"For tired, you don't look too bad. No I didn’t—you don't look bad. You look good!" Amidst recovering from his slip, Alex noticed how different Y/N was then last time. Different in appearance, with her softer expression and relaxed shoulders, and in her aurora. It was calmer, more open.

"You look good too. That shade of yellow—" she pointed to his sweatshirt, "—compliments your hair."

"Really? You think?" He thought he might just melt or spill open in front of her.

"I'm not a liar. What are you up to?" Y/N looked around, keeping her head on a slight swivel. She returned to meet Alex's gaze with something like concern shining, hiding behind her animated expression.

"I'm meeting a deliveryman. If you want, you could come and eat pizza with George and me." After a short beat, he added, "Invite Sammy too."

"Is George your flatmate or..." Y/N intentionally trailed off.

"Flatmate." Alex thought he might have seen Y/N's smile widen more so for a second at his answer. But he could not be sure what he saw was real or just a manifestation of what he wished to see.

"He sounds nice."

"George? Yeah, he's lovely. Not as lovely as me, of course."

Nodding in mock seriousness, Y/N confirmed, "Of course."

It was a simple conversation, but it felt so alive: so real: so this is happening right now and Alex felt so present. Like looking at himself in the mirror late at night and being hit with the conscious recognition of I am a person. Here I am this corporeal being. Not made of words or thoughts, what I find funny or opinions I like, my mental state or view count.

Alex was real talking to Y/N. Words were free-flowing out of him as he processed and reacted simultaneously. Such an understanding – if harnessable – could lead to solutions for world hunger or maybe even get him to three million subscribers within the year.

"So, you'll come along?"

"I can't." Y/N frowned a slight frown. Her nervous nature returned as she cleared her throat and began to fiddle with her fingers.

"Come on, Red," his voice whined with the plea before stabilizing, "It'll be fun. It's not just pizza. I was planning on throwing together a salad as well to go with it."

"How healthy."

"Oh? Do you not know?" Alex paused so Y/N could shake her head. "I'm only buying a pizza to support local businesses; I'm really an expert in the kitchen."

"Is that right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"World-renowned."

"You know what? I see it now. Better than Ramsey, aren't you?"

"Leagues better. I'd challenge any chef to rival my bagged salad mix. It's spectacular – delicious."

Y/N giggled, and Alex joined.

Music had continued to blare from the earbud he left in, but he had been able to ignore it during the conversation. Until a particular song came on – one he downloaded as a joke – and he heard the line: got our song...up and ready

Did Alex wish Y/N and he had a song? No, that was dumb. An unrealistic expectation the romance genre shoved upon its (generally) female audience. But did he? Kind of. It would be cute. Men can want to be cute, too, right?

"So, you'll come?" he asked...again.

Y/N fiddled with the collar of her chin-hugging top. "I would, but I can't. Sam would—don't you think you've made your deliveryman wait long enough?"

"Probably. You have some time to change your mind; just ring me if you do."

"I don't have your number."

"Alright," he made a give it here gesture, "I'll plug it in."

Y/N's bright expression faltered a smidge as she relinquished her phone to him. It was an older model but still a smartphone: no passcode: no apps other than those built-in. Her wallpaper was a picture of Sammy and her on a nature walk. 

Alex’s prominent adam's apple jumped. A pain like indigestion or like guilt stabbed him in the stomach. After plugging in his number, he took an extra second to double-check it and add some personal flair.

Y/N took her phone back. "Why the emoji? I think I'll know who you are without the..." Y/N squinted at the screen. "...without the dolphin."

"Never know. It could be a good reminder."

"I suppose, it does match your eyes," she muttered, still focused on the phone. Y/N froze for a second, clearly not having meant to say that out loud.

"There you go, it's perfect. Don't be afraid to call or text me; I'm on that thing 24/7, and I promise to reply in at least one-to-two business days. Guaranteed."

She scoffed, "You should go get your pizza."

It would not be the first or fifth time Alex had forgotten about a deliveryman, and – while he would let his extra-large go stone-cold before willingly break off a conversation with her – it was apparent Y/N was itching to get somewhere.

"True." Alex gave a short wave, maintaining his distance. "I'll see you later."

"Bye.” Y/N disappeared up the stairs.

~LATER~

Alex balanced the extra-large pizza box in one hand. Never having worked in food service, his confidence in doing so was even lower than his regular self-confidence. With his other hand, he patted himself down, looking for the key to his apartment. He cursed at himself for having locked it out of habit when he left.

There was muffled shouting coming from inside – sounding both playful and angry. It took a single step through the door for Alex to recognize the source of the shouting.

George was in his bedroom watching a video back without his headphones on. 

A great grief. A true unseen struggle for all youtubers – headphones were uncomfortable. Constant low-pressure squeezing developed into the biggest hazard of the job: chronic headaches. Both flatmates had expressed how they sometimes woke up to the feeling like they needed to relieve a phantom pressure and take off their headphones despite not wearing them to bed.

"Take high ground," a familiar voice commanded. "You have to down this guy."

Pre-recorded George asked, "Where is he?"

"Left. LEFT! Your left! Goddammit George, you dyslexic bitch."

It was with bitch that Alex recognized the other voice in the recording– it was Joshy, and it was a fortnite video from the sound of it.

"This gun is so weak it's hitting nine damage," pre-recorded George complained.

Joshy screamed, "Let's go; we got to go!"

"You do your thing. I'll be over there in a bit."

Their bickering continued sounding identical in tone to that of a couple outside divorce court. Viewers loved how shit George was at fortnite and how increasingly frustrated that made Joshy: the shouting, the swearing, the idle threats and name-calling. Pairing up together for these types of gameplay videos would often have them banging out a quarter to half a million views per video.

Meanwhile. Alex placed the pizza box on the coffee table and fell onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh. Sitting up, he grabbed at the box lid and started claiming the best-looking slices in his head.

Eyes flickered to the closed-door: George had not heard him come in – surely not. And he would not be mad if Alex started in on devouring the pizza without him – surely not. Right?

Stacking two slices on top of one another, Alex crammed them into his mouth quick, as if scared they would be taken away from him, and burned his tongue.

"Help me," pleaded the pre-recorded George, "Help me. Help me."

"Nah. Don't think I will."

"Josh, if you don't revive me right now. I swear to god, I will piss in your mouth while you sleep."

Alex snorted, choking on the third slice of pizza he had fit in his big mouth; he had been on the receiving end of that piss threat before, several times. Most recently because he left a plate in the sink and George swore if Alex did not clean it that second, he would...well...piss in his mouth.

"That's not very nice." Joshy mimicked genuine sadness. "I got you."

1/3 of the pizza was gone, and Alex decided it fair to call George in before he scranned it all himself. "George! Pizza's here!"

"Alright!" George (the real not the pre-recorded) shouted back. There was the sound of his door closing and the padding of his socked feet down the short hall before he appeared around the corner. Met with Alex and the 2/3 of a room temperature pizza, he asked the appropriate, "What the fuck?"

"I was starved."

"And here I was thinking the one excuse I would accept for taking twenty years to get the pizza was that you'd run into the street and got hit.”

Alex spoke around his mouth being full, "Sorry."

"Whatever." He snuck in a quick smack against the side of Alex's head as he joined him on the sofa.

Both men sat in silence, shoving slices of pizza into their mouth like it was a competition. Like there was no other food in their apartment. Like they could not order another pizza. Like it proved something.

Breaking the silence, Alex swiped the sleeve of his sweatshirt across his mouth and asked, "Are we still filming that opening pokemon cards video tomorrow?"

"Yes. Just need someone to film the over-the-shoulder angle. Lewis is sick."

"Sick with what?"

"Not the bug." George rolled his eyes mockingly. His eating had slowed down after hitting the wall, half-way through his fifth slice. "It's like a cold or something. Could you ask your new mate Sammy to do it?"

"Why not ask Will to come down?"

"Don't trust him," he said, shrugging.

"Fair enough. I'll ask him when we hit the pub later." Alex stood and walked to the kitchen. At the sink, he washed his hands with dish detergent and, cupping his hands into a bowl, washed around his mouth with the soapy water. Satisfied, he took a towel to his hands and face before returning to see George shutting the lid on the pizza box. "What do you think of Sammy?"

"How do you mean?"

"Just in general."

George shrugged. "He's cool."

"Yeah," Alex agreed – because he did agree with the statement; he liked Sammy.

There was a pause, and, in the interlude, George stood and grabbed the pizza box. He brought it to the kitchen bin; balancing it on top the overflowing rubbish. Curious and perhaps thinking he heard a tonal shift in their dialogue, George settled himself to be pressing his shoulder against the wall nearest where Alex stood. Leaning like he was in a how do you do fellow kids meme.

Alex felt very much 'squared up' to. He turned to be met with a quick tilt of the head and a scrutinizing near-glare from his flatmate. It was not unlike George to stick his nose in where it does not belong; could this be considered that type of situation? Alex did ask for his opinion.

Clearing his throat, George asked, "Is this about Y/N?"

"I was talking to her earlier and—"

"Why were you talking to her?"

"—and I got the sense that Sammy might be like a tad controlling. I don't know."

"Are you serious?" George asked harshly before continuing in a softer voice – with a hint of hesitation, of caution, "You know what happens when you jump to conclusions like that. You shouldn't be chatting up Y/N behind Sammy's back."

"It wasn't like I cornered her. We ran into each other." Alex tugged on his sleeves, pulling them past his shaking fingers – seconds away from crawling into himself.

It was not playful bullying between friends anymore; it was a telling off. And neither was comfortable. George's eyes pleaded for Alex to look up and meet them, and for Alex to understand. Alex held no negative feelings toward George. But Alex hated himself for reacting as he was; he hated being human and having sensitive moments. Though he could not stop it.

"You have got to back off. Ok?" George confirmed, "If it means we can't have Sammy in the friend group, then that's what it means. We'll find someone else to film for us tomorrow."

"No, it's fine. I'll ask him," Alex said as he pulled up and straightened his posture. He smiled at George's concerned expression and added, "I'm not interested in Y/N."

[volkswagonblues]

for @elilim​, because we were talking about gold standard fanfics

Romance of the Age, nimmieamee (Harry Potter):

“Snape did his best to comfort her. He did not want to do this in the usual and boring way, which was sure to leave her limp and un-excited. He saw an opportunity to enflame and arouse her. So, instead of assuring her that her parents had not suffered and were probably in a better place, he ended up delivering a passionate and truly stirring oratory on the insignificance of Muggle transportation and the worthless, banal horror of hospital authorities who hungered for identification. It involved a great deal of sneering. This was not what Lily really wanted. She was rather desperately hoping for some assurance that her parents were in a better place.“

this is by nimmieamee, whom i ADORE. I don’t think she’s ever super famous in any fandom because none of her fics become huge fandom “blockbusters”, which is just proof that talent never gets the recognition it deserves and readers are morons. (I’m not normally this mean, but I do get like this when it comes to writers I really admire). I think she is basically the gold standard plot+style+characterization. Her prose is so fucking musical and clever; reading this after reading a lot of, idk, “normal” fanfic is like chugging Veuve Clicquot after sipping on toilet bowl water for a week.

Romance of the Age is just...everything that a fic should be and shouldn’t be. For one thing it’s HARD to read. The author uses a very neat stylistic device where characters’ names are intentionally withheld to be revealed later at the right moments, and it’s so incredibly smart on a plot and a thematic level. It’s a social satire about rich, bored people that uses your knowledge of HP canon as part of its arsenal to make a satire about rich, bored people. I read it about three times before I understood who all these people were, but everytime I come across a new turn of phrase, a new clever insight, a new way of thinking about an old thing. This is like the opposite of emotional candy. It’s dense and difficult and intellectually nourishing. 

I think the best way to read it, if you’re not up with all the details of HP canon, is to skim through the wiki articles for characters like Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Regulus Black, and Walburga Black. Yes, it’s fic that has homework attached to it. I KNOW.

The Mountain King, mldavies (Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy):

There was a secret second story in the Circus, as there is most places men work, or live, or do business: you might even call it a second society. The women of the Circus walked through the same door that the men did every morning, and came out the same door every night; they sat under the same ghostly lights and trod over the same grey floors. And yet when the shopkeepers and postmen and vagrants watched them coming in and out of the brick building they usually took no notice: “Secretaries,” they said, if they said anything. If they were feeling particularly lurid they imagined what might happen if someone captured one of those secretaries and tried to extract secret information from her, but they were really only interested in the especially beautiful girls, and there weren’t many of them passing through the Circus doors. When they did, the men watching perked up, and started spinning theories about spies, and double agents, and imagining, depending on their particular proclivities, Lauren Bacall or Rita Hayworth or Ingrid Bergman in a sleek dress and some kind of fur garment—they were men; they didn’t bother with these kinds of details—stealing state secrets and then doing unspeakable things, for reasons that didn’t really require explaining, as these narratives were only the morning or evening fantasies of middle-aged men with rather dull home lives.

So TTSS was a John Le Carrre book turned into a 2011 movie with Gary Oldman and John Hurt and also Tom Hardy. The chances are...slim that you’ve read this book or seen the film, but this is basically a novella that I constantly think about. I follow mldavies on twitter: she hosts a podcast and she’s basically a Real Novelist, and my god the difference is real. You can tell the second that you open up this fic that it was written as “lit fic” and not “fanfic”, and not to say that fic isn’t valuable, but there are tangible differences that have nothing to do with quality. Literally the length of the paragraphs and the way line breaks are set up tells you that the author was thinking about writing for the page and not the screen. 

Again, it’s everything that a fic should be and shouldn’t be. It expands the world of the film and the book by exploring the lives of the silent background characters, it uses your knowledge of canon as part of its DNA to tell a richer story that builds off a story that you know already. The prose is just...again, chugging Veuve Clicquot, you feel? 

(she also has a few HP and Marvel and Teen Wolf fics, if you want to read her style in a fandom you’re more familiar in. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189122) 

Prince of Apple Towns, kvkindi (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

In California, it doesn't matter so much. California is like someone sanded the earth down, just came along with a neat hard edge and wiped out everything out, and started from scratch. A fresh clean world. The sunlight hits the ground at strange angles. The trees smell like trees from the Paleozoic. The sea isn't old like the sea off Long Island. There's no history to it. He saw a campus exhibit on Polynesian navigation. There were maps made out of twigs, maps that look like geometric figures. Wooden maps of ocean swells, from the Marshall Islands. Howard didn't know how to read them. He doesn't like this idea, that some knowledge is secret.

Okay, so I know you’re not a MCU fan, but again, this is an actual novel that has worked some strange feat of alchemy to far surpass the base metals that it was forged from. I don’t know if you need to even know anything about MCU or Howard Stark or the Iron Man movies to appreciate this novel about WW2 and the invention of the atomic bomb and the way that science has eclipsed man’s ability to control it. I don’t know what to say. I think I left a hysterical comment on it back in 2016 that was basically just me having a breakdown 

...i just checked. I left THREE (3) SUPER hysterical comments. Let me quote from one of them:

“I'm incapable of speech. The world is empty. Our future is only a gun's recoil of the past. I'm walking into the Atlantic and the only thing I'm leaving behind is a shadow on a wall and the scent of burning. From now on I will cease speaking. I will only communicate via notes written on bar napkins. These notes will only be mathematical equations of special relativity. My sole caloric intake will come from coffee and lemons.My hair smells like sea salt. I think I just broke my hand punching through a wall. I'm a broken husk of a woman. I'm going to conquer the world. Holy fuck, this fic.”

Yeah, basically. also, this fic only has 225 kudos and very little fandom footprint, which again - TALENT IS NEVER RECOGNISED. I”M MAD.

[miastideclock]

Seventeen(VocalUnit) Accidentally Confessing To You

Hi hi! I just found your blog and absolutely love your writing :,) I guess it was perfect timing too since you’re accepting requests! I was wondering if you could (and it’s totally fine if not!!) do a reaction for SVT’s Vocal Unit (any 3 members is fine!) where you overhear them “confess” their crush on you to another member? I’m such a sucker for it 😩 I hope you have a great day!!! ❤️

Y/N will be a different person in each of the pieces, and maybe you'll see why, idk. The POV's are a little scattered, but you get it. I guess you gotta read all of it for it to make sense, in a way??

word count: 2706 summary: you overheard them confessing their feelings for you

Woozi (Lee Jihoon) 

It had been a long day, and you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open as the meeting you had to attend was coming to and end. You would usually just drag yourself home to your single dorm after a day like this, order some take-out, and watch reruns of your favorite shows. But you still had one task left on your to-do-list. Luckily, it was actually something you looked forward to. You were meeting Jihoon in his studio to go over the last song on your album that he helped produce. There was a few details he wasn't too happy with, so a but of tweaking was necessary.

"And unless there are any questions, you're free to leave." The head of the meeting spoke, no one raising their hand to ask. You jumped out of your seat and made your way down the hallway to the wardrobes where you had your things.

It was kind of an important meeting so you had decided to wear a pair of fancy dress pants, but as soon as you did you remembered why you never wore them. They were the most uncomfortable pants on the planet. Luckily, you always kept a change of clothes in your bag, so you pulled out a pair of leggings and a shirt you had stolen from one of the boys when you had been to their dorm. As you were bestfriends with the boys of SEVENTEEN, it wasn't a problem.

You slipped on your sneakers and slung your bag over your shoulder, and you were on your way. Jihoon's studio was on the other side of the building, meaning you had to pass through the cafeteria. You bumped into Seokmin and Mingyu and stopped to chat.

"Hey, girl! What's up?" Seokmin asked as you stopped by the table they were sitting at. You greeted them and told them your destination. "You should probably bring by some coffee to cheer him up, him and Wonwoo have been struggling with a track since last night, and I don't think either of them have slept since." Mingyu suggested, and you nodded, thanking him for the tip. You chatted some more before you realized you had to get going, to not make Jihoon wait too long.

You grabbed a coffee cup-holder and poured two cups, one for each of them. You then continued to the studio. You didn't care to knock and just entered, like you always did. You quietly closed the door behind you in case they were in the middle of a session, but stopped when you hear your name being mentioned in conversation.

Jihoon's studio was built so it was a square, but the entrance was its own little room added almost. You stood there and listened as they spoke. They were sitting by the mixing table, so they couldn't see you, and you couldn't see them.

"I don't know, dude. She makes me feel all giddy inside, and it's weird. She- she just.. Y/N, she is just so great." The voice of Jihoon was in distress about this, and you felt your jaw drop. If this was what you thought it was-

"Bro, you sound like you're falling pretty hard for this one." Wonwoo added in his deep vocals, a low chuckle coming from him. "Head over heels." Jihoon added. You couldn't contain yourself anymore and stepped out from behind the wall. They were sitting with their backs to you, but they could still see your reflection in the glass that separated the booth from the studio-area.

"You're what?" You asked in disbelief.

DK (Lee Seokmin) 

"Mingyu! Wanna join me in the cafeteria and get some food?" Seokmin asked as they packed their bags. They had just been at a costume fitting from their next stage-presence. Mingyu quickly agreed and zipped up his bag as well as throwing a hoodie over his bare torso. They walked the few floors down and sat down at a table, a few people sitting nearby, but nothing too bad. Everyone in the building knew to respect each other as most of them were fellow idols.

They picked up their food and got to talking, mostly about their latest comeback, and their thoughts on their own effort. Suddenly Seokmin spotted his own shirt wandering through the cafeteria and instantly recognized the female. "Hey girl! What's up?" He asked the girl passing through. She was an idol in the same company, so they had been friends for quite some time.

"I'm on my way to see Jihoon. I just got out of this horrible meeting, it was dragging on forever! I saw Seungcheol though, that was fun." She spoke, dropping down in a squat and resting her head on the edge of the table.

"You should probably bring by some coffee to cheer him up, him and Wonwoo have been struggling with a track since last night, and I don't think either of them have slept since." Mingyu pointed out, Seokmin nodding along. They spoke for a while longer before she had to leave.

"So she is seeing Jihoon, huh? I wonder when he is going to confess his undying love for her." Seokmin chuckled as he moved a noodle across his plate. Mingyu took a bite of his food before nodding, raising a napkin to his face.

"Speaking of confessing, when are you going to confess to Y/N?" He asked, catching Seokmin off guard. He had been into you since the day you first met. He had been captivated by your whole essence, so much that the very same day he had forgotten both the lyrics to the song they were recording, and the choreography.

"I'm never going to tell her, okay? She had no benefit of knowing that I am hopelessly in love with her. It will only make things weird between us." Little did Seokmin know that you were the person sitting right behind him. You had put your hood up as you were hiding from one of your managers, intentionally not greeting the two boys as they walked past you earlier, cause you managers knew you would probably be seen with one of the boys.

"You're what?" Mingyu spoke, he knew Seokmin had feelings for you, but he never knew they were so strong to the point where he would say he was in love with you. You had tried to ignore them, but the way you heart pounded against the cage of your chest left you no choice. You turned around so you were facing Mingyu's back, Seokmin looking down at his food.

"You're what?" You breathed, but it being loud enough to where Seokmin looked up faster than lightning, locking eyes with you.

Jeonghan (Yoon Junghan) 

You had never been this tired, maybe ever. You sat on the floor of the SEVENTEEN dorm, your head falling every now and then, but then shooting right back up as you fell asleep. You had been in the studio with Wonwoo and Jihoon all night, and now you were hanging out with Jeonghan in their dorm, something he had invited you to the day prior, you never anticipating you would be this tired.

"Are you okay?" Jeonghan asked as he looked over at you. You had been doing what you always did when you hung out, listening to music and talking smack. He did notice you had been quite out of it today, but he decided not to comment on it, not until now that is.

"I was up all night with at the studio." You confessed, Jeonghans face instantly melting into one of understanding. He asked if you wanted to take a nap, to which you said no- you wanted to be awake with him.

"You weirdo, we can hang out when you wake up, okay? Now lay down." He instructed. You eventually nodded and laid down on their beyond comfortable couch. You were positioned so you were facing the back-rest of the couch, not wanting people to look at you while you slept. After a few seconds, you felt a soft and warm blanket being placed over you and tucked in at your sides. You smiled at the gesture, your eyes still closed. Not long after, you drifted off to sleep.

Jeonghan laid down on the floor next to the couch and scrolled through his phone. He laid like that for about an hour before the door slammed open, and then shut. "Hey, Jeongh-" Seungcheol started, but he was soon cut off by the mentioned as he hushed him. Jeonghan then violently pointed to your sleeping body. Seungcheol quietly apologized and looked over at you, seeing your breathing was still steady and deep, he assumed it didn't wake you. Jeonghan did the same, you had been pretty tired after all, so you would probably be able to sleep through a storm.

"What's up?" Jeonghan asked as he and Seungcheol sat down on the middle of the floor, so they weren't right next to you anymore. "Hansol sent me this absolute treasure-chest of a video." He chuckled, handing Jeonghan an earbud and they then watched the video. In summary, it was Joshua sitting in a car, talking on the phone in a panicked manner, while Seungkwan sat in the backseat freaking out about something incomprehensible.

They chuckled, and then sparked a conversation, it starting when Jeonghan found himself looking at your sleeping self. You looked so peaceful and small.

"Still whipped for her?" Seungcheol asked, Jeonghan not moving his eyes as he answered. "Crazy about her. I'm genuinely infatuated with her whole self, I don't know what to do, man." He confessed. He had been in love with you for the past few months, and he had no idea what to do. He tried to make it go away, but he couldn't. You were his best friend, and seeing you, hanging out with you, talking with you every single day, didn't help whatsoever.

Jeonghan finally turned to Seungcheol who was looking at him. "Is it just a crush, you think?" He asked. A valid question, but Jeonghan shook his head no. "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her." He spoke softly, Seungcheols eyebrows almost jumping off his face as he raised them. "You what?"

A new voice soon spoke, one that made the two boys flip their head towards the source. You. "You're in love with me?" You asked.

Seungkwan (Boo Seungkwan)

The car ride was calm. Seungkwan, Hansol and Joshua had been out and getting some things for the dorm, one of their managers being ever so kind and offering to drive them. Seungkwan had been texting his bandmate Soonyoung, going back and forth about some weird thing they had both experienced on stage.

hosh: Right?! I ate shit falling off the stage where we performed last week!!

kwan: I did too, exactly same place as you, but why tf didn't anyone else fall? we all walked there at one point, did we not???

hosh: i have no idea, but i'm lucky Y/N was there to ice my elbow after, she is such a sweetheart.

kwan: tell me about it.. i'm this close to injuring myself on purpose so she can take care of me..

Seungkwan looked out the window for a second after responding. Just the mention of your name made his stomach explode in butterflies, and he had no idea how he time and time again kept so calm when he was actually around you.

hosh: yeah, i had forgotten about your little crush, sorry- how's that going by the way?

kwan: i think it's more than a little crush bro..

Seungkwan didn't like to admit it, not to himself, nor anyone else, but he was moonstruck when it came to you. He just couldn't get enough. It was something about the way you spoke to him, or to anyone in general. How you were so kind and respectful, and the way you carried yourself, and how you looked at him- he could go on for days.

hosh: what do you mean?

Seungkwan let his fingers float over the keyboard of his phone before he quickly typed the sentence he up until now had refused to admit to himself.

kwan: i'm in love with Y/N

Just saying it to his good friend via text was hard to do. You were out of his league and he knew it, that's why he didn't bother doing anything with it- it wasn't like his feelings would be reciprocated.

hosh: code RED

hosh: fucken coDE BLACK

hosh: CODE SHIT

Seungkwan was confused as the messages from Soonyoung came pouring in. He re-read his own message, and that's when he saw it.

Read by hosh, Y/N

His eyes then flew up to the top of his screen.

groupchat

hosh + 1 more

Soonyoung's picture had been at the front, so he hadn't realized he had sent it in the groupchat with you three.

You on the other hand was sitting on the floor of the dorm kitchen, your hand clasped over your mouth as it had dropped open. Seungkwan was in love with you, and he had accidentally told you via text in a groupchat.

Y/N: you're in love with me?

Joshua (Hong Jisoo) 

"Seungkwan, calm down! What's going on?" Hansol spoke as soon as it looked like Seungkwan was having a seizure in the backseat. He was freaking out over some text he sent. After a few minutes Joshua and Hansol gave up on calming him down, so Hansol just whipped out his phone to record him.

"I accidentally told her I like her!" Was the first thing Seungkwan said that could be understood as actual words. Hansol then stopped the recording, typing away on his phone, but while still talking to Joshua.

"Speaking of telling a girl you like them; ever going to tell Y/N you're in love with her?" Hansol asked. Joshua's breath hitched as his friend spoke. Was never an acceptable answer? He almost told you last month, but as he was about to spit out the words, your manager had come into the room. After that he swore off ever telling you- even though you were his dream girl. You were funny, and charming, kind and respectful, and you had a way of carrying yourself that he just couldn't fathom was real.

"As much as I want to, and boy do I want to- I'm never gonna tell her. She is so out of my league, and we both know that. She is so wow, and I'm so.. well, not that." Joshua spoke all while Seungkwan was still freaking out, and Hansol finished up typing. He sent the video before he looked up at his friend who had just dished his feelings out on a platter for him to enjoy.

Joshua felt his phone go off in a notification, pulling it out of his coat to see what it was, he felt his heart drop.

PHONE CALL

Y/N

6:37

You had been on the call for almost seven minutes. You sat on the chair of your dorm kitchen, having spoken to a fellow idol for a while before you decided to call you best friend and ask him about something you were discussing that you knew Joshua would know the answer to.

Before you knew it, you heard Seungkwan scream about some gibberish in the background, the audio a bit messed up. After Joshua dropped his phone in some salt-water a few weeks ago, it had been messing up every now and then- sometimes it would just accept the incoming call without notifying. You were about to hang up and try again when you heard your name.

"..; ever going to tell Y/N you're in love with her?" The familiar voice of Hansol spoke, catching you off guard. He was in love with you? Joshua was in love with you.

After a few more minutes, it seemed he finally realized his phone was active, cause after some scratching of the audio and a gasp, you heard Joshua's voice clearly.

"Y/N?" He spoke softly.

"You're in love with me?"

Hope you like it! Feel free to request more x

-bentley

[lovemesomesurveys]

[yourheaventonight]

What color is your couch? They’re gray.

How do you normally wear your hair? It’s always up in a messy bun.

Alcohol = the ultimate truth serum. Yes or no? Some people tend to get too talkative and comfortable and say things they probably wouldn’t normally. 

Are you a righty or a lefty? I’m a righty.

Do you own a pair of handcuffs? No.

Do flying bugs creep you out? Ew, yes. ALL bugs creep me out, but flying definitely doesn’t help cause they can fly right at me. lsflsfjldkfj

Can a girl love sex without being a whore? ...Yes. Loving sex doesn’t make you a whore. I think a lot of people love sex. I’m not going to judge people’s sex lives. Also, I just don’t use those type of terms. 

Would you ever be in a long-distance relationship? I don’t know.

Do lemons sound appealing to you at the moment? I like lemon flavored desserts, but I don’t eat actual lemons.

What size bed do you have? A full.

When was the last time you brushed your teeth? Yesterday. Before you judge, it’s only 6:36AM so I haven’t done so yet today.

Can you sleep in total darkness? Nooo. I have to sleep with my TV on for some light and sound.

What piercings do you have? Just my earlobes.

Any tattoos? Nope.

Is your glass half empty or half full? My glass is broken.

Are frogs cute or gross? The slimy thing isn’t so cute.

Do you ever wish you were born in a different century? No.

Which country's culture interests you most? Things from all different kinds of cultures interest me. <<<

What kind of guys/girls do you go for? None for the past few years...  I forget what it feels like to be crushing or have an interest in someone in that way. It feels like forever ago since I’ve last felt that.

Do you regret something you have no real control over? Yes.

Do you enjoy writing? I used to.

What do you have as your screen saver? My screen just goes black after like 15 minutes. 

Do you have a webcam? It’s built into my MacBook. I’ve never used it, though.

Do you still have your tonsils? Yes.

Aren't beetles fucking grody? Ugh, what’s with the bug questions in the past two surveys I’ve done. ALL BUGS ARE GROSS AND CREEPY.

How do you feel about Oprah? I’ve never been obsessed like a lot of people seemed/seem to be.

^ What the fuck kind of name is Oprah anyway? It reminds me of okra. Don’t gotta attack her name.

Would you ever pierce your tongue twice? Like, one right next to the other? I wouldn’t pierce it at all.

Do you like bonfires? Yes. I’ve always wanted to have one on the beach.

What makes your skin crawl? BUGS.

What's your favorite flower? I don’t really have one.

Look up Community Property by Steel Panther. Listen to the whole song. No.

Share your thoughts here. --

Have you ever dyed your hair an unnatural color? I’ve been dyeing it red the past few years. 

What's for dinner? I’m not sure, yet. 

Have you ever had someone draw a picture of you before? I’ve had those caricature drawings done before.

What confuses you most? Life.

Do you like monkeys? Sure. 

Does anything on your body hurt at the moment? Of course.

Have you ever been called a bad influence? Not that I know of.

What book are you reading right now? Cold Highway by Mary Stone.

Any bands you would like to recommend to me? Hmm.

What makes you laugh? My doggo.

What time is it? 6:47AM.

Doesn't intentionally bad grammar annoy you? Yes.

What type of person can you not stand? Arrogant, cocky, close-minded, very opinionated and judgmental people.

Care to share what song is stuck in your head? There isn’t one, currently.

What languages can you speak? Just English fluently, but I know some Spanish.

Pirates are better than ninjas. Fact or fiction? I’m gonna go with pirates cause it reminds of Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland, one of my favorite rides.

There is always a bit of truth behind every 'j/k', yes? Not always, but sometimes I do think that. Especially if it’s said more than once.

What do you get complimented on most often? Nothing.

What's the weirdest compliment you've ever received? Someone apparently thought I had polio because I’m in a wheelchair and told me that I looked pretty for someone with polio. Uh...

Who/what was the last person/thing to make you blush? I don’t recall.

What kind of muffins do you like? Banana (without the nut), blueberry, cinnamon streusel, lemon poppyseed, chocolate chip, birthday cake. Dang, I want a muffin now.

Do you like warm or cold weather more? Cold, hands down.

Don't you hate it when sites go under maintenance and you cant get access? If it’s something I need access to at that moment, like typically that tends to happen with websites I pay my bills on. 

What form(s) of art do you enjoy most? Literature, film, music.

Piercings are sexy. Truth or lie? I’m not into them.

Have you ever worn a French maid costume? No.

Have you ever had couscous? I don’t know what that is.

Do you like listening to yourself talk? Ew, no.

When was the last time you were congested? Hm. It’s been awhile.

Do you wear eyeliner? When I actually wear makeup, yes, but I haven’t worn any makeup in like 4 years.

Do you show everyone your tongue when something turns it another color? No, I don’t feel the need to do that.

Who is the greatest writer alive, in your opinion? There’s countless great writers. How about the greatest painter? There’s countless great painters. I may not have a favorite myself, but I can acknowledge that there’s a lot of beautiful art pieces out there.

The greatest musician? There’s countless great musicians. 

The greatest poet? There’s countless great poets. I don’t read poetry, but again I can acknowledge there’s a lot of great poets out there.

Have any good scar stories you want to share? I don’t consider any of them “good.”

Are you pierced anywhere below the waist? No, I’m not.

Facebook games: Fun or brain-frying? I don’t play any.

Do you dance well? Not at all.

Are you into anyone at the moment? No.

Do you touch yourself at night? No.

What body parts can you 'crack'? My knuckles, wrists, arms, neck.

What color do you wear most often? Black.

What about the opposite sex drives you crazy? (The good kinda crazy.) It’s been so long since I’ve been interested in someone or felt that way.

What candle/incense flavors do you enjoy most? (Yes I said flavors. :P) Autumnal scents from Bath & Body Works and patchouli. 

Do you complain a lot? In surveys and on Twitter, but I keep to myself a lot in person. I could complain a lot to those around me if I wanted to, but I don’t because I don’t want to be a burden, annoying, or bring them down. I’ve known people who constantly complained and it gets to be a lot real quick. It’s draining. So,  I just suffer in silence, ha.

What do you do when you're mad? Shutdown and cry.

Have you ever thought you could 'save' someone? No. 

Do you have any 'special' talents? *Wiggles eyebrows* Nope.

Yankee makes the best candles. Yes or no? Kinda overpriced.

What do you do when you can't sleep? I have a nightly routine that consists of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR for that reason.

Have you ever liked someone you barely knew? Little crushes, yeah.

When was the last time you felt like a creeper? I don’t feel like a creeper.

Who seems to have taken up permanent residence in your thoughts? Not a who, but certain things.

Black & Milds: yay or nay? I don’t smoke.

Is smoking a turn-on for you? No.

Do you get excited or scared when you see a thunderstorm brewing? I love ‘em. We don’t get them often here, though.

Speaking of brew, when's the last time you had a beer? Almost 10 years ago. If I’m talkin’ brew I’m talking coffee.

What sub-genre of metal do you enjoy most? I don’t listen to metal.

Do you need to shave? No.

How do you feel about Obama? This question has come up in a lot of the surveys I’ve done lately.

Do you own any bandanas? Nope.

What's your favorite gangster movie? I don’t watch any.

Who/what makes your heart race? Anxiety.

How do you think I should end this survey? You just did.