#my poor boys with an exceptionally bad fate

[woeddbeanna]

Correction. Obviously, the fundamental factor for my liking for the character is not only the mastery of the violin, but also the wearing of a mask by this character.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter One. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: Sub/Dom, Toxic Behaviour, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Begging, DubCon, CNC.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

You were a good girl, and an exemplary student. One who consistently demonstrated exceptional discipline and commitment. Your dedication to academics was unwavering, as you diligently followed the rules and guidelines, never straying from the prescribed path.

Your singular focus was on nurturing your intellectual curiosity, and you showed no interest in indulging in activities that might distract you from your educational pursuits. Your life was calm, quiet, and focused.

Until, one day everything fucking changed.

———

In the enchanted realm of Hogwarts, there resided a studious and exceptionally bright seventh-year Ravenclaw witch, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and her steadfast commitment to the noble pursuit of knowledge. This young sorceress, a paragon of virtue, refrained from the temptations that often lured her peers, steering clear of parties, alcohol, and the haze of smoke that veiled the Ravenclaw common room during clandestine gatherings.

Her life was meticulously ordered, her goals sharply defined. But the universe had a curious sense of humor, for it threw her into an unexpected affiliation with the most notorious bad boy in Slytherin:

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He, the embodiment of rebellion, was a stark contrast to her pristine existence. Mattheo's reputation preceded him: a Slytherin troublemaker, one who was almost always found in the midst of chaos. His devil-may-care attitude was a challenge to authority, and there was not one singular individual that could tie him down.

Yet, fate had woven their paths together, forcing the astute young witch to confront the complexity of human nature, unraveling layers of his defiance while simultaneously testing the boundaries of her own steadfast resolve.

And that witch; that poor fucking witch--well, that was you.

———

"Please, Riddle...if you'd take a seat," you ran your tongue along the backside of your teeth, straightening your posture in your chair as you tried to contain your irritation. "...I must express my desire to commence our endeavors prior to the conclusion of the academic term."

"Eager, are we?" Mattheo sneered, sauntering toward the desk painfully fucking slow. "You know, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is mastery. I'll sit when I'm fuckin' ready to sit."

His voice was low, the sadistic drawl of his tone making your bones ignite with fury. Gods, he certainly fucking loved testing you.

"And I won't tell you again...call me Mattheo."

You inhaled a sharp breath, flattening out your blue uniform skirt against your thighs as you bit your tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

"Rome may not have been built in a day, but it certainly collapsed in one--now, I won't ask again, Riddle..." you looked up, meeting his dark obsidian eyes, fighting back a sadistic smirk of your own as he narrowed his gaze in challenge. "Take. A. Seat."

The words were clipped behind your teeth with an obvious urgency that shut Mattheo up for a few seconds, the gears turning inside his head as he contemplated how he could one up your little jab--a constant occurrence that seemed to happen every single fucking time you met with him.

At this point, your tutor sessions were an easy seventy percent bickering with the remaining thirty being a half-assed session of one-sided discussion where he mostly offers you fleeting blank stares while zoning you out. You hated that you'd agreed to this, but you knew you needed to get on (and remain on) Professor Dumbledores good side if you wanted a career here at the school after you graduated--and you were so fucking hungry for it you'd do almost anything to solidify your fate.

Even if it meant surrendering your sanity to the hands of Mattheo fucking Riddle.

You chose not to let him, of all individuals, tarnish your path. Your reputation, fragile as it may have been, resembled a tinderbox, and he was the combustible element, ready to erupt at any given moment. This resolve became your steadfast anchor, shaping the direction of your choices.

"You know," Mattheo said as he finally slumped down into the chair across from you, his tousled brown hair falling effortlessly over his forehead. "I was under the impression that the brilliant Ravenclaws such as yourself valued intellect over impulsive haste..." he tilted his head, his gaze scanning every movement of your body as you stared at him. "It was my understanding that impatience was more of a Gryffindor trait."

Your fingers trembled with palpable irritation, yet you understood the imperative need to suppress it. You couldn't afford to reveal just how deeply he affected you, realizing that acknowledging it would subject you to endless taunts and jibes, a fate you were determined to avoid at any cost. This restraint became your shield in moments such as these.

"You wish to discuss house values, Riddle?" You tilted your head, straightening out your posture once again. "Because I, in complete honesty, was under the impression that Slytherins were known for their resourcefulness...your reluctance to cooperate suggests a rather curious lack of ambition."

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, his expression growing icier. "Resourcefulness doesn't mean blindly following every stupid instruction thrown at you, and ambition means choosing the battles worth fighting, not wasting time on pathetic, trivial matters."

With a subtle smirk, he leaned back, hooking his arm on the back of his chair as he eyed your discomfort--seemingly undisturbed by your challenge--and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, somehow knowing he wasn't finished.

And of course, he wasn't. "If you really believe this seemingly-stubborn insistence on when or if I sit reflects a lack of ambition, you clearly misunderstand the depths of Slytherin cunning. We pick our battles wisely, and right now, this isn't one of them."

Your blood pressure surged, the crimson currents in your veins reaching their boiling point. Months of enduring relentless bickering and one-upmanship had pushed you to the edge--this man may be an utter degenerate but he certainly knows how to use his mouth when it matters. You could no longer bear the weight of this incessant game, and in a fleeting moment of frustration, you finally succumbed to the pressure.

You knew this was your breaking point.

"I'm just trying to fucking help you." You said, before you even realized you had. You hardly ever cussed, never out loud--that is. "If you don't want to be here, then get out. I promise you, you won't be hurting my feelings if you do."

He huffed, leaning forward and crossing his hands together on top of the desk as he wet his stupidly plush lips, a devilish grin swallowing his cheeks while he revelled in the fact he'd so clearly fucking won. Yet again.

"No," he said. "I don't think I will."

You clucked your tongue, irritated even further at his response, gaze narrowing ever-so-slightly before you rolled your eyes--brushing off his suffocating arrogance and pulling your textbook out of your bag, slamming it down on top of the desk between your bodies.

"The Grimoire of Arcane Relics?" Mattheo read the title out loud, voice laced with a confused, almost offended undertone. "We don't cover this until the middle of second term..."

You cocked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Seems a bit...hasty, to shove this down my throat so early on," his voice carried a sadistic drawl that nearly made you leap across the desk and choke him unconscious. This man knew how to fucking test you. "Would it not be far more beneficial to proceed in the order the books are taught?"

You drew in another swift breath, the fabric of your navy robes clinging to your form, trembling fingers smoothing out any wrinkles on your button-up blouse as you adjusted it.

"I was unaware..." you said, not bothering to look up. "...that the individual I'd be tutoring this term was in fact a professor, and not a seventh year student..." you glimpsed him now, offering him merely but a slight tilt of your head as you watched his jaw tense. "...I must have been ill-informed, do pardon my ignorance."

"A moment of self-awareness? What a fucking breakthrough for you, Raven...pity it took you so long." He was clasping his hands together on top of the desk with enough force to involuntarily crack his knuckles. "Maybe there's hope for you yet, though I wouldn't hold my fucking breath."

"Please don't," you said, teeth gritting. "We wouldn't want to deprive your already-oxygen-starved brain of any more, now would we? It needs all the help it can get."

Mattheo's gaze sharpened, his lips curving into a teasing smirk, highlighting the scars that adorned them. The effect he had on you was undeniable, a sensation you longed to dismiss more than anything. However, with every passing moment in his presence, resisting the pull of attraction became an increasingly futile endeavour--yes, he was suffocatingly arrogant, but Gods, he was fucking attractive.

And he knew it.

"Quite the fucking mouth on you, I'll admit..." he dropped his voice to a low whisper, so deep it practically rattled your bones as it vibrated through you. "Never met a Ravenclaw with such an attitude problem...maybe I could tutor you on how to fix that issue, once we're done here, of course."

Your stomach twisted, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire. Curse him and his painstakingly arrogant charm. Curse him to bloody hell.

"It'd be a cold day in hell before I take any sort of guidance from you, Riddle..." you whispered, your voice accidentally reverberating as a seductive pitch. "And even then, I'd probably still refrain."

"You don't know when to shut the fuck up, do you?..." his eyes darkened, an evil mischief crawling its way through his irises. "What would daddy Dumbledore think about the way you're speaking to me, huh?"

Your heart stalled. "I-"

Your words faltered as Mattheo stood up, moving leisurely like a predatory creature circling its prey, until he was right beside you. His eyes, sharp as daggers, bored into your skull, and he loomed over you, a sadistic smirk twisting his lips into a cruel curve. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, knotting your stomach with an unsettling mix of fear and desire.

He placed a singular hand on your desk, leaning down closer to your level. "Perhaps I pay him a little visit...perhaps I tell him that you've been missing lessons, that you've been extremely unprofessional...perhaps I somehow fail my next exam...perhaps-"

"Okay, okay!" You panicked, cutting him off. "You've made your point, Riddle...I'm sorry, okay?" The words were fucking painful as you forced them past your teeth, and you swallowed your ego, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Let's just get this over with, please?"

Mattheo huffed, gratified by how effortlessly his threats appeared to compel your submission. The gears turned in his head as he grasped the extent of the power he truly wielded over you. He fully understood that your entire post-graduate career almost certainly depended on his decisions, and he was eagerly anticipating taking action.

"I like the way you say please..." his voice was breathless, his dark eyes consumed by something you couldn't really identify as he slumped down in the chair directly next to you, his sight never once leaving yours. "Do it again."

Your body tensed, immobilized as he inched closer, his penetrating eyes scrutinizing your features with intense focus. It was no secret that Mattheo had been oblivious to your existence until he was placed under your guidance--despite being the most popular Slytherin student in the school, you, a practically invisible Ravenclaw, were easy to overlook. It had taken him over three weeks to even remember your name, a fact he never bothered to acknowledge, let alone use.

But within that time frame, within the time you'd been tutoring him; as much as he drove you mentally fucking insane, you couldn't deny that every time he'd show up for lessons with torn knuckles, cut lips and alcohol radiating from his breath--you couldn't help but to feel something in the pit of your stomach.

Whether that sensation was disgust, arousal, or sheer terror, you couldn't quite pinpoint. It was a feeling that whispered in your veins, urging you to surrender to the dominance he held over you. It screamed for you to let him have his way without resistance, because just as he commanded your obedience, he wielded the same control over the entire damn school. The prospect of defying him felt like a dangerous game you weren't willing to play.

"Riddle-"

He tilted his head, his face dangerously close to yours now, his eyes peering into your soul as he stared. As he wet his lips, his breath turning shallow, you felt a feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach, and one between your thighs as well.

"I said, do it again." His voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his eyes studying you as though you were a page of a textbook. Not that he'd ever read one of those. "Go on, Raven...beg for me..."

Your breath hitched, and you involuntarily clutched the edges of the wooden chair between your fingers with an indescribable force. You didn't want to admit it--not to Mattheo, not to anyone really--but you were a virgin. You'd never even kissed a boy; your entire life was devoted to your studies...so this...this was extremely fucking new to you.

When you remained silent, Mattheo's eyes darkened even further, turning a shade of obsidian so intense they put even the stormiest midnight skies to shame.

"You want me to keep your perfect little reputation intact, hm?" He breathed, leaning closer. "You want me to help you stay on Dumbledores good side?"

Your throat was more arid than the desert, and you nodded, unable to blink--unable to peel your fucking eyes off of him.

"Then do as I say..." he murmured, a large battered hand finding purchase on your thigh, your entire body involuntarily flinching at the foreign contact. "I want to hear you, Raven."

You stared down at his hand resting lazily over the fabric of your blue uniform skirt--it's massive size swallowing up almost the entirety of your thigh, calloused palm catching on the pleats as it slid upwards, agonizingly slowly--and when he paused, stretching his fingers around the diameter of your thigh the best he could, fingers digging into your flesh as he squeezed; you gasped, involuntarily, and he huffed--bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"One more chance..." he purred, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips. "You won't like what'll happen-"

"Please!" You snapped, squeezing your thighs together out of pure desperation. "Please, Mattheo...please, let's just get this over with..."

"Mm." He hummed in satisfaction, slowly pulling his hand off of you. "That's fucking right..." he murmured, warm breath tickling your ear. "Nothing is sweeter than your submission, Raven."

You swallowed, not daring to look at him, nodding your head frantically in response as he pulled away, slumping back in the chair--not once peeling his eyes off of you, spreading his legs way-too-fucking wide as he made himself comfortable--he was silent, now, watching your chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, watching the way you squirmed in your chair at his sudden dominance--a dominance that had an effect on you that you couldn't even begin to describe.

And then, before you could even realize what was happening, Mattheo leaned back in, his fingers gripping your jaw and tilting your face towards his--and as you meet his dark, intoxicating eyes, your lungs stalled, entire body shrinking in your seat as he stared at you with such intensity that you felt like he could see right through you.

"From now on, I'm in charge here," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Understand?"

You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, and watched his darkened amber eyes as they glanced over your lips, lingering there for far too long, before returning back up to meet your gaze--something swimming in his irises that made your stomach twist.

When you were silent, he tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. "Use your words, Raven..."

"Yes." You squeaked, voice barely audible. "I understand."

He hummed, a devilish smirk crawling across his lips, fingers digging into your jaw with added pressure as he pulled you closer, lips so close you'd touch with a deep enough breath.

"Understand, what?" He breathed, eyes dipping over your lips yet again. "Say my fucking name."

"Mattheo..." you couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only obey his words as though he was controlling you like a puppet on strings. "I understand, Mattheo."

He huffed, smirking. "Good girl, Raven..." his voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his full lashes fluttering as he blinked, meeting your eyes. "You learn so quickly...I should have done this months ago..."

When he pulled back, slowly releasing you, air slowly returned to your lungs; not enough to rid the dizziness from your brain but just enough to keep you conscious. Mattheo turned toward the desk now, as though nothing even happened, gesturing for you to start the lesson.

And somehow, you did.

—————-

Chapter two->

[dracowars]

ten years apart | anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin x reader

word count: 6,0k

summary: where anakin comes back after ten years

a/n: i'm so sorry for the length but i just couldn't stop writing :( please get a drink and snack before reading this hella long os <3

warnings: angst, mentions of blood

universe: star wars

Exhaling heavily, you throw the garbage bag into the shaft and push it down with all your strength. Beads of sweat have already formed on your forehead which you wipe away with the back of your hand. It is, again, incredibly hot on Tatooine today and the unbearable heat has been beating your mind and body all day. But what temperatures can you expect from a desert planet, right?

The desert planet of hell, as you like to call it. Disgusting creatures, pirates, bounty hunters and actually all kinds of insidious henchmen cavort here in Mos Espa. The city you grew up in. The city you have always been stuck in and probably will be stuck in for the rest of your life. You come from a small and poor family, no money to escape this hell, always having to work hard to survive.

And yet you had a better life than other children here. Because you were lucky enough to not get sold as a slave. Your parents could always raise enough money - often in ways you do not support - to save you. Even though you are more than grateful, you cannot help but to sometimes wonder what would have happened if. If you became a slave, maybe just maybe, you might have met the same lucky fate as him.

It has been ten long lonely years since the two Jedi Masters Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi were stranded on Tatooine and seeked help. You were still very young, therefore you can barely remember their faces. But you definetely do remember the face of him, Anakin Skywalker. The little boy from Tatooine.

How could you ever forget him? He was the nicest, bravest and most courteous boy you have ever met in your life. You always knew that something about him was different. The way he acted, the way he thought. There was just something about him that fascinated you and before you knew it you had developed a small crush on him. You got along well and you loved to watch him when he was working on his droid yet again. He always told you about his dreams, how he wanted to help, how much he wanted to get away from this dump called Tatooine. With his mother.

And with you.

Anakin and his mother Shmi Skywalker were slaves and belonged to Watto, one of the many junk dealers and human traffickers of Mos Espa. Even though they must have had a terrible life, Anakin always stayed positive. The smile on his dirt-stained face when he was building on his droid was priceless and you can see it in front of you as if it was yesterday. In fact, it has been ten years.

Ten years since the Jedi Masters took Anakin with them to train him as a Padawan in the ways of the Jedi. You were happy for him, you really were. He was finally able to leave this terrible planet and live a better life elsewhere. But to a certain price, since he had to go without his mother and also without you, his best friend.

"Y/N! These tables do not clean themselves!", a voice calls for you from inside and you just roll your eyes before leaving the heat outside, entering the building again. Inside, the musty smell of smoke greets you, low music plays in the background and you go straight towards the round bar in the middle of the room. This is the most popular hotspot of Mos Espa: the infamous Twin Sun, a bar in the center of the city. The place where the creepiest species float around, where the dirty business is done.

You absolutely hate your job in the bar. Every day you have to tidy up and serve under worst conditions. Especially in the later hours of the evening, when it is completely overcrowded, you are running back and forth every second, receiving disgusting comments from the guests. However, hardly anyone is here in the early morning and you have to only take care of the leftovers from the previous day. Unfortunately though, you have to endure this kind of job.

Your parents, who always saved you from the worst, are too old and weak now to raise money themselves and you felt obliged to take on this role. That is also the reason why you have several jobs at the same time. In addition to working in the Twin Sun, you also work at some booths at the weekly market and when you are lucky, you can sometimes even help out on the farms outside of the city. It is the only way to ensure your family's survival.

While you are about to wipe the empty tables, the roaring unpleasant noises of podracers echo through the building, sweeping through the bar like an earthquake, and the following loud cheers of the audience can hardly be overheard. The race is also a reason why it is exceptionally empty here today. Almost every living creature in Mos Espa is in the Grand Arena, cheering on their favorite, probably making some bets beforehand.

Personally, you hate these races more than anything.

Besides being totally unfair and dangerous, it is really just about the money - the money you do not own. The same participant always wins and despite your hatred of these races, you watched one of them for the first and last time when Anakin himself participated, won and was thus able to free himself from slavery. Only his mother remained on Tatooine but he promised he would come back and rescue her once he is a fully trained Jedi.

It has now been ten years and he has still not shown up.

Well, maybe he did show up after all, just did not look for you as he initinally promised. Maybe he only picked up his mother, not you.

A few years ago you had to watch how his mother got sold at the weekly market, but the buyer actually seemed very nice and later you found out that he even gave her freedom and took her as his wife. The man called Cliegg Lars used to come to the bar regularly until a few weeks ago. Does Anakin know, or can he maybe even feel, what happened?

"What do you think you are doing?! Finally work for your money or I will kick you out!", the bartender, who is also your boss, suddenly yells at you and pulls you out of your thoughts. "Sorry", you huff out and continue to clean up the tables at a quicker pace. It is a day like any other day. At least that is what you thought.

After you have cleaned all the tables you stand behind the bar and tidy up the glasses. Meanwhile it is already in the afternoon and the bar is much more crowded than it was this morning, which means more work for you. However, for some inexplicable reason, you are very distracted today, your mind always wandering off, and when you do not pay attention for a tiny second, a glass slips out of your hand and shatters into a million pieces.

"Watch out!", your boss grumbels at you immediately, only waiting for such an opportunity. Quietly cursing under your breath, you pick up some of the broken pieces. With a hiss you reflexively pull back your hand after accidentally cutting yourself on a sharp piece. Quickly, you put the small bleeding area against your lips to stop the blood from flowing.

"A table just got free back there! Clean it", your boss orders, not waiting for you to get up again as he almost throws the wet cloth into your face. Trying to control the rising anger inside of you as best as possible, you stand up, dispose of the broken pieces and make your way to said table. When you reach it, you have an uncomfortable feeling all of a sudden, a feeling of someone watching you. You turn around but do not see anyone looking into your direction. Shaking off the weird feeling, you take care of your task and then go back behind the counter to do your work while you hear your boss talking loudly to one of the guests on the other side.

"Watto, Watto.. Never heard of him before", he says thoughtfully over the music. You frown irritated and bend over to be able to see your boss. He is talking to a young, handsome man who seems quite determined about finding Watto. "Buy something or get out of here, kid!", your boss suddenly threathens, but the young man seems pretty unimpressed. Nevertheless, he turns around and leaves but not without your eyes meeting first. His blue eyes shimmer in the weak light and while turning away, he pulls the brown hood of his cloak over his head.

Even though your boss did not call you for help, something deep inside of you tells you to help this unknown, mysterious man. After all, you actually know Watto. You worked for him in your younger years until he went bankrupt eventually. Therefore, it is very uncommon and suspicious for someone to ask for him.

You put everything aside right away and go to your boss, who seems to be in an extremely bad mood today. "I take my break now", you quickly let him know and without giving him a chance to answer, you already head towards the entrance. When you arrive outside, you take a look around and spot the young man just a few meters away from you. Running after him, you gently tug on his sleeve to draw his attention to you.

"Excuse me", you stop him in his tracks and he turns to you with confusion written all over his face. "I heard you ask my boss about Watto in the bar. I know where to find him."

His face seems even more surprised now and he raises his eyebrows. "Really?", he asks, a hint of hope in his voice. You nod in agreement. "Can you lead me to him?", he resolutely asks and you nod again.

"You do not look like you are from here. What do you want from Watto?", you ask him curiously and go ahead to lead the way while he follows right behind you. "That is not important and also none of your business, I think", he replies emotionless, only looking ahead and not at you. You are a little taken aback by his harsh words but decide that it is best to not ask any more questions. He seems quite serious about it and somehow you still cannot get rid of this strange feeling inside of you.

You lead the way to the market, where some stalls are set up, and finally find Watto at his regular place in the shade of a house. He sits on a small chair and is currently busy examining a screw in his hand as you both approach him. Watto raises his gaze when he realizes that someone is walking towards him and as soon as he recognizes you, he flutters into the air excitedly.

"Oh! I have not seen you in a long time", he laughs and looks at the unknown man next to you. "There is someone who was looking for you, Watto", you explain in Huttese and point to the young man next to you, who bows his head slightly as if he could also understand what you are saying. Which is ridiculous, of course, because only Tatooine people can speak and understand Huttese.

Immediately Watto flies back, unsure whether he has done anything wrong. "Excuse me?", he trys hiding his nervousness, suspiciously looking at you.

Instead of telling Watto what he wants, he picks up a piece of equipment and fiddles with it. "Let me help you with that", he murmurs under his breath while actually speaking in Huttese, fixing the broken piece. "What? I do not know you! What can I do for you?", Watto grumbels but his eyes widen at once as he discovers something. "You look like a Jedi. Whatever it is.. I did not do it!"

A Jedi?

The next words abruptly catch you off guard and your heart completely stops beating.

"I am looking for Shmi Skywalker."

You look at him in shock as he pulls the hood down, Watto looking at him exactly the way you do as he finally lets out the words you were too scared to say.

"Ani? Little Ani?", Watto breathes out in astonishment, now using Basic instead of Huttese. When Watto then realizes that he fixed the broken piece, he happily jumps into the air. "You are Ani! You sure sprouted! A Jedi! Hey, maybe you couldda help wit some deadbeats who owe me a lot of money.."

"My mother."

"Oh, yes. Shmi.. she is not mine no more. I sold her", Watto confesses, obviously feeling uncomfortable about the situation while you are still not able to get out a word as they get stuck in your throat.

You were sure that you would never see Anakin again in your life, that he would have long forgotten about you. And now that he is actually back, that he is actually standing right next to you, you cannot believe it. He changed so much that you did not even recognize him.

And it seems he does not recognize you either.

"Sold her?"

"Years ago. Sorry, Ani, but you know, business is business."

"Who did you sell her to?"

"I-I do not remember, actually. I think it was a farmer, yeah, a moisture farmer probably", Watto stutters and his words pull you out of your trance all of a sudden, hitting a trigger in your head.

"His name, Watto."

"I-I think I do not know-"

"Cliegg", you mention softly, turning your gaze to Anakin whose brows are furrowed in confusion. "His name is Cliegg Lars."

"How could you-", Anakin starts, slowly becoming more tense, but as he looks at you more closely, at your face and in your beautiful glistening eyes, his expression suddenly softens. "Y/N?"

"Anakin", you say barely audible, trying to prevent your eyes from watering at hearing your name out of his mouth for the first time in years.

He does remember you. He did not forget about your existence.

You both cannot help but stare at each other for what feels like hours before he gently pulls you into his now very strong arms, hugging you tightly.

After all these years you were separated one would probably think that the hug would be uncomfortable and awkward. But it is far from that. Anakin's embrace is warm and soft, like it used to be when he was still here. He just got stronger and much taller since then.

He grew up.

On a whole different planet, far far away from you.

He has become a Jedi and fights for justice in the galaxy while you are still stuck on the same old planet, struggeling to keep your family alive.

"I can't believe it is actually you, Y/N!", Anakin gives you a warm smile after breaking the hug, his hands still resting on your forearms to keep you close while scanning you from the top to the bottom. "You have grown so much."

"I could say the same to you", you giggle, hiding your bright smile behind your hand while you blush. His blue eyes have become even brighter than you remember them and his face and stature in general look extremely healthy. If someone had told you years ago that Anakin would develop into such a handsome man, you almost would not have believed them. Yet, in your eyes he is still the same Anakin.

"And you are a Jedi", you mumble, pointing to the lightsaber attached to his belt under his brown cloak. Anakin continues to stare at you for a moment before finding his way back to reality.

"O-Oh yes. My lightsaber", he stumbles over his words and looks down at his weapon, but makes sure to completely hide it behind the fabric after that while clearing his throat. Slowly but surely it suddenly gets a bit awkward between you, none of you knowing what to say or where to start.

You have so much to tell him and still want to ask him so many question, but you do not know how.

"So, you know where my mother is?", Anakin finally speaks up again and breaks the silence, but with a question you did not quite hope for.

"It is very far outside of Mos Espa, yes. I can bring you there", you answer with a little sadness in your voice. Of course, he wants to find his mother after all these years.

"Hey! When you come back, make sure to visit me. Ani, I could really need some help, you know", Watto calls after you both as you show Anakin the way.

"He has not changed a bit", Anakin chuckles slightly next to you and follows you over the street, where you pass numerous creatures and vehicles.

"We need a vehicle to get there", you absently speak to yourself while searching for a suitable one. "Or a Dewback works too."

"A landspeeder sounds good", Anakin immediately answers after you end your sentence, almost interrupting you. With raised eyebrows you look at him sceptically.

"What happened to your sense of adventure?"

"I got older, I guess", he sighs and you hear out some sadness in his voice for the split of a second, but you tell yourself that it must have been your imagination.

"We all did", you mumble and finally agree to take a landspeeder instead of a dewback, even though it is much more expensive. However, Anakin insists on paying and after doing so you sit in the passenger seat, patiently waiting for him to join you and start driving.

At high speed you whiz over the dry sand and out of the city towards the seemingly endless outback. From time to time you glance over at Anakin, who does not look at you once, not even when you tell him the directions. When you catch yourself staring at him for longer than a second, you look away quickly but not without noticing the changes in his apperance.

His face has become much more striking and his hair got darker. The dark brown cloak that is covering his body compliments his eyes and makes them shine even more.

On your way you drive past a group of Jawas with their Sandcrawler, who are currently busy taking apart an abandoned spaceship that has apparently been stranded out here.

After a few more minutes you finally reach the Lars homestead and get out of the speeder, Anakin giving you a helping hand that you shyly accept. He keeps his gaze on the dome in front of you though and you can feel the nervousness that suddenly emanates from him.

As soon as you both walk towards it, a girl, younger than Anakin and you, comes up the stairs after she has apparently heard your arrival. Which is honestly not very difficult out here regarding the fact nobody comes here that often.

"Can I help you?", she asks, concern in her voice, and the longer you look at her, the more familiar she gets until it clicks in your head. She is Cliegg's daughter-in-law. You have often worked together on the farm. It seems like she already recognized you as the concern in her face slowly fades.

"Beru, right? I often helped you out on your farm", you take a step towards her and she nods in agreement before glancing at Anakin, who is standing directly behind you.

"We are looking for Shmi", you explain and Beru's brows furrow, obviously confused as to why you search for her.

"She is currently at the market in Mos Eisley with my boyfriend. But they should be back any moment", she mentions and then points down the stairs behind her. "If you want, you can wait for her inside."

Accepting her offer, you follow her inside the dome and you are completely amazed when you arrive at the open pit, a crater housing a courtyard from which all rooms can be accessed. You saw the huge hole in the ground before but never paid attention to it.

You follow Beru into what seems to be a kitchen and she asks you to sit down, but before you are able to, Anakin suddenly turns around due to a noise and a man in a power chair appears behind you.

"Who are you? What do you want?", he asks grumpily and Anakin's grip around his lightsaber on his belt, probably a reflex, reduces as you step in between. "Oh, Y/N! It is you!"

"Good afternoon, Cliegg. I am sorry for our unannounced visit, but we are looking for your.. wife", you say, almost whispering your last words, your heart stopping for a moment when you realize Anakin does not even know his mother married this farmer.

"What?", Anakin asks, shocked, his eyes widened and his lips split while he takes a step forward.

"I am Cliegg Lars. Shmi is my wife. Then you must be my stepson", Cliegg introduces himself and offers Anakin a handshake, which gets refused as Anakin just stares at him in disbelief.

"How is that possible?", Anakin breathes, directing his gaze to the ground, and you discover how he fiddles with the sleeves of his cloak in despair.

"I bought her from Watto at that time and gave her freedom before I made her my wife", Cliegg explains calmly, also noticing Anakin's displeasure about the situation. "My son and Shmi are just-"

He does not get to finish his sentence when loud screams and shouts interrupt him out of nowhere, silencing all of you. A brief moment later you are already on your way back up, Anakin ahead.

Once at the top you spot another landspeeder that has stopped in the distance, fuming. Due to the bright sunlight it is difficult at first to see that two people approach you, followed by several aggressive, snarling Massiffs. Disgusting beasts from hell that usually only live in the mountains unless they have been tamed by Tusken Raiders for their own purposes.

Quickly, you come to the conclusion that they must have been attacked by Tusken Raiders, who are now chasing their pets after them. It takes another second until you all realize that these two people running towards you are none other than Anakin's mother and stepbrother.

"Owen!", Beru desperately exclaims next to you, hands covering her mouth in shock.

Without hesitation, Anakin and you sprint straight towards them at the same time, hoping to somehow help and save them. But when suddenly a blue light brightly erupts next to you, you almost forget to keep running.

Anakin now runs towards them with his ignited lightsaber, much faster than you, and reaches them in seconds. Positioning himself protectively in front of them, waiting until they have run past him, he kills one of the Massiffs with the single stroke of his deadly weapon.

"Y/N, get them to safety!", Anakin shouts while he is fighting with the Massiffs, and you obey his words, quickly escorting them back to their house.

Glancing back after you have brought them inside safely, Anakin has just fended off an attack and pushes the monster a few meters back through the air, his hand outstretched. Finally, yowling and panting, the few survivors retreat and if you would not have called out Anakin's name, you are sure he would have followed them.

Deactivating his lightsaber, he quickly comes back to you, his face flooded with anger and pain. However, instead of paying attention to you, he walks straight past you.

"Are you injured?", you catch his upper arm worriedly and bring him to a stop. Shaking his head, he immediately removes his arm from your grip and continues his way down the stairs. With a sigh, you follow him.

"Where is she?", Anakin asks emotionlessly when reaching the bottom of the stairs, stopping abruptly and causing you to accidentally run into him.

"Ani?", a quiet voice finally sounds and Shmi steps out.

"Mom", Anakin swallows hard and embraces her tightly in his arms as she comes running towards him. After ten long years, mother and son are finally reunited.

"Oh, you look so handsome", Shmi sobs and takes a closer look at Anakin, taking his face between her hands, whereupon Anakin places a kiss on her palm. "My son. Oh, my grown up son. I am so proud of you, Ani."

"I missed you", he sniffs in response and a few tears find their way down his, her and also your cheeks.

"You came back, I can't believe it", she happily smiles at him, pride showing in her eyes.

"Just like I promised", he gives her the same smile and they hug each other again.

"And you saved us. You truly became a Jedi", Shmi sobs and Anakin gives her a kiss on the forehead before her gaze falls on you for the first time. "Y/N! Thank you so much for bringing him here."

"Of course", you wipe away your happy tears and smile back at her.

"Let us eat something, children", Cliegg then suggests while already being on his way to the kitchen, followed by his son and daugther-in-law.

"You might want to freshen up. I will show you where you can", Shmi offers and leads you both through a hole in the wall into a medium-sized room before she reluctantly separates from Anakin.

"Show me your leg", you order as soon as Shmi is out of reach and he turns around to you in confusion. "Your leg, Anakin. I saw you limp."

"It is not that bad", he shrugs it off and puts his Jedi robe aside, revealing his broad shoulders.

"Please", you repeat again and stare at him worriedly until he is no longer able to hold your gaze and pulls up his pants to reveal his leg. You have to swallow hard when a gaping wound appears on his shin and it takes you a lot of self control to not scream at him right there.

"That has to be treated, Ani!", you rebuke him indignantly, but now he is the one who keeps staring at you until you notice what you have just said. "A-Anakin, I mean."

"N-No, no! It is okay. I like when you call me that, it just... it has been some time since you last did", he clears his throat and your cheeks turn into a slight shade of red.

"Y-Yes, a long time ago. But we have gotten older, like you said", you stutter out, trying to make the situation less awkward. "I will ask if they have Bacta patches here, fix you up and make my way home."

"What are you even talking about?", Anakin raises his voice all of a sudden, rather unintentionally as you notice in his subsequent expression, while he grabs your wrist tightly to keep you from walking away.

"You have just seen your mother for the first time in ten years. I am sure you have a lot to tell her and I do not want to stand in the way", you explain and place your hand on top of his to loosen his grip, but to no avail.

"But.. I want to tell you too, Y/N. You are forgetting that I saw you again for the first time in ten years as well. I do not want you to go now", Anakin admits and takes a step closer to you, his eyes pleading to not leave him. "Apart from that, I will certainly not let you go now when these monsters are out there."

Leaving you no choice and not even a chance to answer, he suddenly pulls you into a tight hug, much like he did with his mother.

"I missed you so damn much", he softly whispers and you can't help but smile while you wrap your arms around him.

"I missed you too, Ani", you mumble against his shoulder and claw your hands into the fabric of his clothes.

Although you already hugged each other when you first met today, this one feels much more intense than before. It makes you feel safe and warm and comfortable, a feeling that you have not felt on this planet for a long time. For ten years, to be exact.

The next morning, you tiredly step outside into the burning hot twin suns and follow the voices coming from the kitchen. You stayed awake late yesterday and Anakin told you everything. From start to finish, he explained everything about his training to you, everything that happened after he left ten years ago. You have eagerly listened to his stories about the numerous adventures and here and there caught yourself staring at him sadly but lovingly.

Even though he pretended to be strong while telling these heartbreaking stories, you could see that he is not. After all these long years you can still read it on his face in an instant. He was not strong after Qui-Gon Jinn was killed shortly after their departure and also not when he became Padawan of a Jedi who was almost still a Padawan himself. He was not strong when he has been seperated from his family and he still is not as strong as he pretends to be. No matter from which point of view you look at it, Anakin is still the little boy from Tatooine.

"Good morning", you yawn when you meet the Lars family in the kitchen.

"Sit down, Y/N. I made breakfast", Shmi happily greets you and puts a plate down for you on the table.

You have not seen Shmi this happy in a long time. You never met her often after Cliegg freed her from slavery, but when you did, she always looked very absent and, above all, sad. She seems like a whole different person now.

"If you are looking for Anakin, he is outside", Shmi mentions when she notices your mental absence. Shyly, you nod and give her a warm smile. After you have eaten up your breakfast, you make your way upstairs. Arriving outside, you briefly get blinded by the bright suns when the dome no longer offers you protection.

However, as soon as your eyes get used to the sunlight, your breath gets caught in your lungs when a huge spaceship appears in your field of vision. The ship landed just a few meters away from the farm, the boarding hatch open. You spot Anakin in front of it, deeply submerged in a conversation with another man.

Said man notices you right away and draws Anakin's attention to you with a subtle head movement. When Anakin then sees you and the worried expression on your face, he waves you over. Nervously, you set yourself in motion and approach them.

"What is going on here, Anakin?", you ask shyly after discovering a lightsaber on the other man's belt, quickly gesturing a bow with your head.

"This is my master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Maybe you still remember him", Anakin introduces him to you and, in fact, you actually do remember his face.

"If this isn't the little girl from back then who watched us leave with such a heartbreaking expression", Obi-Wan loudly thinks and scratches his beard before patting Anakin's shoulder. "I will go ahead and meet Padmé on board."

At his words, an uncomfortable feeling of nervousness rushs through your body until it turns into a feeling of sheer fear. Not only because you remember the name and its associated, incredibly beautiful Queen of Naboo, - which Anakin also told you about in his stories - but also because you suddenly feel like your worst nightmare turns into reality.

"W-What does he mean by that?", you stutter out, not really wanting to hear an answer to your question, but Anakin gently puts his hands on either side of your cheeks to calm you down.

"The Jedi Order has called Obi-Wan and me back to Coruscant, along with the senator", Anakin sighs and sadly looks to the ground, his thumb lightly stroking your skin. "My mother is happy here and that is most important for me. I now know that she is fine and safe."

Transforming his words into sharp weapons, they painfully shoot through your heart and you take a step back immediately, breaking the body contact with him.

"But I am not, Anakin!", you yell at him desperately, much louder than originally intended, and he just looks at you in shock from your sudden outburst. "I am not fine since you left ten years ago! I can't do this anymore."

"Y/N-"

"No, do not touch me! Please", you sob and wrap your arms around your own body in order to protect you from further damage. "Would you- Would you have even searched for me at all if I had not found you first?!"

Breathing hard while accusing him, he remains quiet and does not answer. His eyes wander around, desperately seeking an appropriate answer that will not hurt you, but he terribly fails.

"That's what I thought", your voice breaks and a single tear runs down your cheek before you turn around and walk away. However, you do not get very far when you feel a firm grip on your arm and are turned around again to face him shortly afterwards, your bodies only inches away from each other.

"Come with me."

"W-What?"

"Come back to Coruscant with me, Y/N", he begs you, his voice full of sorrow.

"A-Ani-"

"I had a dream about my mother and about you. You were badly injured and I was too late to save you", Anakin confesses, desperation prominent in his coarse voice, opening up to you all of a sudden, letting his guard down and showing you his vulnerable side for once. "That is why I came back. That is why I am back on Tatooine."

"A-Anakin. I can't.. I have responsibilities here", you choke out and look away, not able to hold his pleading gaze while your hands and knees shake in fear. "I have to go back to my parents.. I can't just leave them like this."

Silence spreads between you until Anakin lifts your face up with his fingers on your chin, deeply looking into your eyes. Suddenly your fear is reflected in his glassy eyes. A fear you last saw all those years ago when he left. When he had to leave his mother and you behind. It is precisely this fear that is now reappearing in his eyes and all of a sudden the little boy from Tatooine is back, not wanting to leave his home.

"I understand", his shaky voice whispers as he is close to tears as well.

How much you would like to just go with him. To just leave everything behind and finally get off this dirty planet. But you know it would not be fair to your parents and that you can't just leave them behind. As much as you would love to go with Anakin, you would never forgive yourself if you did.

"I am really sorry, Ani", you carefully say and place your hands on his upper arms to steady yourself before he pulls you closer and places his chin on top of your head.

"I will come back", he breathes into your hair and his voice sounds so fragile in your ears that you can no longer hold back the pricking tears, letting them stream down your cheeks freely. "I promise."

"I will wait for you", you fake a smile through your tears before he gives you a gentle kiss on the forehead, leaving a warm spot there.

The following repeated exclamation of his name coming from his master makes your heart ache even more and Anakin takes a step away from you, breaking off any contact.

"See you soon", he forces a smile and slowly retreats backwards to the spaceship, not averting his gaze from you and repeatedly raising his hand to wave goodbye.

Your eyes filled with tears and your vision blurred, you watch him leave and say goodbye with a heavy heart.

After ten long years you were finally able to see him again. You were ten years apart and now you pray that it will not be another ten years until you meet again.

[c-c-cherry]

I got it, what stuffies do the bucci gang members have?? Cause no matter WHAT they say, each of them has a comfort stuffy

Hell yeah Bucci gang comfort stuffies Bucci gang comfort stuffies (because even our boys in Passione have at least one)

Go give @jjadegreen a follow because her thoughts make up 99.9% of the head canons I post!!!

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Giorno

-Our boy’s got one medium sized plush ladybug. Narancia definitely gave it to him (he probably got it when he was sick or something just like what happened in The Unknown!)

-It was definitely the first stuffy he’d ever owned and he had no idea why they were giving it to him at first

-He has this external mindset that toys are for children but he literally loves this thing so much

-He’s too ashamed to tell anyone even though Narancia practically has a collection and he knows no one is gonna judge him for it

-It usually sits on a shelf but when Giorno has tough nights he hugs it to comfort himself and fall asleep

-It’s extremely well-kept because it’s Giorno's first stuffed animal. He adores it

-On one of his worse nights, Narancia walks in on him curled up under his blankets just—full-on crying into this poor ladybug. He skeets out of the room real quick and Giorno thought he’d completely fucked up and starts freaking out a bit only to see Nara run back in with more than an armful of stuffies and just dumps them all onto his bed

-They eat chocolate and take the best nap ever. This becomes a nice little weekly routine for the boys where the two of them can just sit and spill all their secrets and all that bro shit

-When Bruno catches wind of this via Narancia, he makes sure that they all give him a new plushie for his birthday

-Giorno acts like he could care less about it and politely thanks them, but Narancia gives Bruno all these little updates about how much Giorno loves every single one of them :’)

Bruno

-Surprisingly? Beanie baby collection

- He started collecting when he was a kid and paused the collection for the beginning of his time in Passione but started it up again about 3 years ago

-Beanie baby attic? Beanie baby attic

-When Fugo first moved in with him and just saw like—a room full of beanie babies he had no idea what to think but it's become a ritual at this point for each new member of the bucci gang to stare longingly at the vast collection when they first move in with them

- None of the beanie babies are exceptionally rare but he takes very good care of each and every one (like a good parent should)

- Although he doesn’t really have favourites, he does have a certain attachment to Smoochy the Frog because it was a gift from Leone (who begrudgingly denies that he has anything to do with the frog whenever one of them asks about it)

-What he DIDN’T know was that Polpo had a massive one. Like, a huge one because he was Polpo and of course he did

-Once he inherits all of Polpo’s shit he’s handed like, a million beanie babies and he is overjoyed

-He still keeps his own special collection separate from those ones, though. Because that shit’s special

Narancia

-Enormous plushie collection. Seriously.

-He cuddles with a different one each night like a devoted bro

-He has super tiny ones and huge ones that are bigger than him and a whole variety of them and they’re just fucking everywhere all over his room

-He can literally nap anywhere thanks to vast amount of comfiness in his room now

-They all have names which no one else can seem to remember other than Bruno.

-He always has special ones on hand specifically for lending out to the others (usually Giorno or Fugo) whenever one of them gets sad or overwhelmed

-Whenever he gets a new one he always asks everyone for name ideas (Mista is the best at coming up with names)

-Whenever one of his old animal plushies gets too old/can barely even function as a toy anymore, Giorno will turn it into an actual animal for him so it can still live on in a way :)))

-His favourite is a dirty, crusty, old plush lamb named Pecorey that he got from his mother when he was 2. When I tell you this thing is crusty, it’s CRUSTY

-But it’s very dear to his heart so it doesn’t matter ;-;

-Bruno has tried to clean her a few times but it seems like the grime will never come off. Narancia thinks the dirt gives her personality though.

Abbacchio

-Refuses to admit he has any plushies

-He has 2. One teddy bear he found at a garage sale that had Bruno’s hairstyle, so obviously he bought it.

-The second one is a tiny plushie that Narancia made by hand. Yes, the plushie also looks like Bruno. Abbacchio claimed it was ugly when narancia made it but he takes very good care of the tiny Bruno.

-Will not bring them out of his closet under any circumstances. Even when he’s sad ;(

-He helps Bruno dust off his beanie babies, even though he swears that he hates doing it

Mista

-His plushie is... can you even call it a plushie?

-It’s a teddy bear he got as a baby, but mista never took good care of it so it’s just.... a stuffingless husk. Just skin.

-Mista claims the bear is named Cattivo but the rest of Team Bucciarati usually refers to the bear as ‘it’. Abbacchio keeps trying to throw it out but he always fails.

-They always wonder why Mista still keeps it around and one night they find out that his eldest sister found him after he came out of jail and gave it to him and it's the only item that he has left that stuff connects him to his family (and also the last time he saw his sister)

-They start calling the bear Cattivo after that

-It sits on his bookshelf and he puts it next to his pillow when he gets sad

Fugo

-Has no plushies of his own, though he used to have hundreds back when he lived surrounded by wealth

-When he turned seven, his parents took away all toys that he owned and replaced them with books and school supplies, telling him that he’s fated to do well in academics and doesn’t need any distractions

-He still has it drilled into his head that he doesn’t need them or doesn’t deserve them and makes it clear to everybody that he doesn’t want any (even though he kinda does)

-He does frequently steal plushies from Narancia though

-He always returns them in the end because he just ends up feeling bad for wanting one but Narancia doesn’t mind.

-He usually takes this one huge dragon that’s big enough to hug with his entire body. While fugo will never admit it to his team, he really likes affection with those that he trusts, so having a huge plush (even if he’s just borrowing it) to hug is nice.

Trish

-Collects those tiny Japanese plushies which are like... food, drinks, etc,,but with those cute little eyes.

-She buys like, 4 of them a week.

-Her favourite changes almost daily, usually just whichever one she bought most recently :)

-Fugo and Giorno don’t really see the appeal in food with faces, but Mista and Narancia LOVE Trish’s collection

-If she orders one she ends up not liking, she gives it to Narancia for his collection (and sometimes Mista if he begs hard enough)

- Trish has an entire LED display wall in her room for her collection. Her impulse buying of these plushies knows no bounds. She tries to save up for huge ones but she ends up buying a bunch of small ones on impulse.

-Bruno did get her a few huge ones for her birthday, though!

-Whenever Abbacchio is out shopping and runs into one of them that she doesn’t have, he kind of just,,,sneakily buys it and puts it on her bed while she’s not there for her to find later

-She has no idea who keeps gifting her these blessings, but she has a feeling that its him hehehe

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I  still have this cat stuffy in my room that Jade got me when I was 3 or 4 (but she was like 2 when she “gave” it to me so it was more like our mom bought it lmao) and I named it Kitty because I was super original. When I was 5, I lost it once and refused to sleep for days without it so my parents “found it” which really meant they went and bought me a second one and right after that WE ACTUALLY FUCKING FOUND IT LMAO

But like 6 months later my parents split and now I have one at each of their houses so it works! No Kitty is more superior than the other, I love my children equally😌😌

Listen, I know all y’all have at least ONE toy/item/memento somewhere, even if you haven’t seen it or thought about it in years. And I wanna know what it is. 

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes pt21:Ice Breaker?

[Part 20 here! <-]

Snow, as far as the eye can see. Summer has had enough of snow. A terrible thing considering her move sets and living situation. The frozen rain gently fell down into a meadow of pure white, blanketing any beautiful flowers that could be right below the surface. Her body fell flat, landing stomach down. Cold, but not too cold; the usual case for her mind every time she ended up here. Why was she here? Her heater was definitely on before she laid down. Wool socks kept her toes nice and toasty, and windows were shut tight. She had triple checked. Perhaps this was an actual dream this time instead of an unpleasant visit from the worst guest ever. Summer didn’t want to deal with Shiva. She didn’t want to do anything really. Her body felt...tired. Eyelids were heavy and energy was spent. What was this?

The crunch of snow being crushed broke the silence of the meadow and obstructed Summer’s already limited view. Her head lifted up to see the last person she wanted to. Now she really hoped this wasn’t a dream. It would be dreadful for Shiva to take those away from her too.

The problematic entity laid down on her side. Her hand reached out to brush away a few strands of Summer’s hair to get a better look. “Tired?” Shiva asked, rubbing the girl’s cheek. “I’d be too, faking joy in my life. How long do you think you’ll last? You feel it right, time slipping past you? Days, hours, minutes, seconds; how much more time can you spend failing at everything? Aren’t you tired of it all?”

Summer didn’t respond. Summer couldn’t respond. All she could do was stare into Shiva’s alluring gaze and weep, motionless.

“Awww poor thing.” Shiva rolled Summer over on her back, then straddled her. Her left hand kept rubbing Summer’s pale cheek. Shiva looked down at the girl with a smile that while small, was still oozing with a smug attitude despite her calm voice. “Just close your eyes and surrender to me. What else can you do? You can’t beat me, out think me, or do anything that matters when it counts the most. Do you enjoy it, burdening everyone? How much longer will you hold Nick back?”

Summer’s lip began to quiver. The warmth of her tears was the only source of heat filling her. They began to run faster and faster down the side of her face, only to meet Shiva’s gentle hands rubbing them away. Those same hands drifted lower down and stopped on Summer’s eck. Shiva never squeezed or even entertained. Her demeanor felt almost infant like, the way she tilted her head as she examined everything Summer did. Or...what she didn’t do.

Above, the ice ceiling began melting away again, the meadow fading into dust along the way. Shiva was the last thing Summer saw before everything became an empty space of black. Then, she woke. Dried tear marks were strong on her face and something pinned her right hand from trying to rub them off. Summer looked at her bedside and was taken back by the sight of her brother sleeping with his head laying on the mattress and hand holding her own. “Nick?” Summer said softly, pulling her hand free gently. Nick had always been a light sleeper. Summer had barely done anything and yet Nick woke up.

The boy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey sis. Did you sleep okay? You kept crying and trembling.”

“I was?” Summer rubbed her neck and rubbed her tear tracks away. “Sorry. I...guess I had a nightmare.” The sun barely hit her curtains so it must still be pretty early. “Were you here all night? Nick, you’re sick.”

“It’s not like you can catch a cold, miss immunity.”

Summer pouted. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re not gonna get better sleeping on the ground. Worry about yourself first for once?” She said, dry and tired. Summer laid back down and faced away from her brother. She heard him stand up but didn’t hear him walk away. Her mattress sank down seconds later and his hand took hers again.

“Are you...mad at me? You were pretty upset a couple days ago about the Paladin match, and Valerie sure had some choice things to say to me. I know I can be…overbearing at times. I get that you probably want space, but can you at least tell me if there’s anything I did specifically.”

His voice sounded hurt and tired as well. Summer didn’t know Valerie and Nick were on shaking ground. Is that why Nick didn’t tell her he was sick? Summer turned around. “I’m not mad at you. Things have been really low lately is all. I’m sorry if it felt like I’ve directed any of it at you. Things should get better after the tournament. Veronica will probably leave, I’ll have nothing but school lined up, and Oscar will hopefully be back by then. Not the biggest fan of virtual sessions.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Listen if you want more free time then I won’t make you-”

“Performing at the tournament is just fine.” Summer smiled. “Like I would miss a chance to stun a crowd, all of Remnant in fact. Besides, I made an Acr promise to an orphan, remember? I couldn’t back out if I wanted to.”

“Yeah...that would be pretty bad:” Nick cringed at the thought of an entire orphanage being sad and lied to. That’s guilt that would follow someone forever. “Got any plans today? It might do us some good to practice at least once together before the tournament. Not that we really need it.”

“Please, if it isn’t our dual summoning then we’re set. We can’t do that today though. Veronica and I are...umm…” Summer wanted to tell Nick about their argument yesterday which led to Veronica all but forcing her to agree to a fight today and the use of stolen diamond dust, but it wouldn’t make much sense to. Endangering him with her risks was the main reason things escalated. “We’re...going around town and the woods to get things for my outfit.”

“The woods?”

“Yeah she wants to see me fight grimm and we’re gonna look for pure dust and stuff. So don’t worry if you get one of your little twin chills or whatever you call it.”

“I don’t call it anything. Twin chill is nice though. Well be careful. Expect a call if I feel it. Better safe than sorry. It would suck for me to be grabbing school papers while Shiva is rampaging through the woods.” Nick was getting a little stressed thinking about it. One minute he’s stapling papers then sees a massive glacier outside the school window. Not to discredit his sister, but that’s the kind of luck Nick typically had. Things go fine, and then they don’t.

“School papers?” Summer questioned. “Nick it’s not a school day.

“I know. I’m gonna stop by there this afternoon and get the work I missed.” A look of disbelief and judgement shot him right in his heart from Summer. “What!? Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean the homework disappeared. I’m simply going to get it and come back home to rest. Summer’s look did not waver. Nick turned a little red for the nonverbal call out. He stood up. “Leave me alone! I’m going back to bed and then I will do exactly as I said I would do.”

“You’re full of shit…” Summer said while doing a fake cough.

“Night, you little diva.” Nick walked out her room and grabbed the door to shut it.

Summer reached out for a second. “Wait a second.” She said, her voice more reserved. “Nick, y...you love me right? Like, spending time with me?”

Nicholas looked at his sister with a raised brow. “Of course I love you. You’re my baby sister. Not that you being that means I have to hang around you or anything. Why, someone dumb tell you otherwise?”

Summer couldn’t help but smile. “No, hearing you actually say it is just nice. Rest well.” Nick smiled back then closed the door. The smile Summer wore tried its best to stay, but left as quick as it came. Her swarming thoughts made her head feel heavy and cluttered until Summer found herself resting it in her hands as she attempted to rest a little more. Sleep never came back for her unfortunately, no matter how many minutes passed her by.

It felt like no time at all before Summer was out of her bed and getting dressed for the day. She decided to keep her hair down for now and was more concerned about if she was gonna be warm enough. Her standard black thermal leggings and old white over coat should do the trick, but Summer felt compelled to put her ear muffs around her neck and wear warmer socks with her already poofy white winter boots. Snow gloves were put in her coat for safe keeping. Testing diamond dust without Nick was more stressful than she thought it would be. At least the layers of close gave her a good excuse whenever she’d start sweating.

The fated knock on the door finally came and took ten years off of Summer’s life. “Y-Yes?” The door creaked open before being fully swung open with Veronica on the other side. An exceptionally beautiful soft brushed purple winter coat that had a belt around the waist and big black buttons to bundle the whole thing up. Her color of choice was complemented with grayish-white jeans that looked roomie; a weird choice for the girl. Then there were her gym shoes school? Her entire bottom half was casual in contrast from the coat.

Summer got a bit worried. Veronica dresses herself with purpose. Her wardrobe doesn’t sacrifice functionality for flare, yet is stylish nonetheless. This one felt disjointed however. “Ummm what’s with the shoes and jeans? I would’ve thought you’d look a little more...stunning?” Said Summer, choosing her words carefully. She must’ve succeeded because Veronica gave a rude look and nothing else. It was easy to tell that she was still tired from the way she rubbed her eyes. “Didn’t sleep well either?”

“I’m sore and the time difference hasn’t gone away yet. As for my clothes, why would I wear my good clothes when I’m going to the woods and things can get physical? I’d wear a different coat if I had one.” Veronica pulled out a scrunchy and put her lion’s mane of a hair into a ponytail tail.

The sleeves of the coat fell down and Summer became a little more anxious to see Ember Cilca on Veronica’s wrists.“ Oh right, of course she’ll dress comfy in a fight. And use a strong weapon. Why not use her own? Is punching me that exciting?” Her eyes looked down and noticed a small duffel bag outside the door. “What is she gonna do to me!?” Summer ‘casually’ walked over to her sword and put it on her hip. It made her feel a little safer. Then she grabbed a hidden vial of diamond dust. Safety was right back out the window.

“You’re only bringing the one?”

“If this goes terribly then I don’t need Shiva getting a double dose. One is more than enough.” Summer held it out. “Here. It’s probably better you have it for now.”

“On that, we can agree on.” Veronica took the vial and grabbed and used her tail to grab her bag. “Let’s get this over with already…” she stormed off immediately.

Summer thought it best to follow Veronica’s lead. The girl was clearly in a bad mood. “Dying in the woods by a girl crushing on my brother. Yeah, that’s on par with the rest of my life.”

xxxx

With two of noisiest people out of the house, it was pretty easy to tell something was amiss for Weiss. It’s almost eight in the morning and the sound of guitar or vocals hadn’t rattled her morning coffee. Yeah they had a sound room, but that never stopped Summer from playing a rift on the way to it. “It’s quiet, too quiet.” She took a sip from her mug then went to the garden. “Maybe Summer is training? Veronica could probably hear through the sound room.”

The closer Weiss got to the garden, the easier it was to hear that someone actually was there. Yang. She was upside doing push-ups in just a tank top and yellow pajama pants.

“Forty five...forty six...forty seven…forty- oh hey Weiss.”

“Hehehe, how are you not freezing? It’s barely warmed up yet.”

“Since when have I ever been bothered by a little cold air?” Yang let her balance slip to land right side up. “I’m hot every day all day.” She flipped her hair for dramatic effect.”

“Well Mrs. Hot stuff, have you seen Summer? Despite her reluctance to go to school, the girl is an early riser. Especially on the weekends. Is- hey, you got a little…” Weiss pointed on a few bruises on Yang’s right shoulder.

“Oh this? Veronica wanted to spar yesterday. Her mood wasn’t exactly friendly.” Yang sighed. Her body flopped on the soft grass near the tear area. “That girl, it feels like all we do these days is spar rather than trying to talk.”

“Gee, I wonder where she gets that from.” Weiss said with the most sarcastic tone in the world. “I guess I’m in no position to make fun. Summer is hard to communicate with too. Teenagers man.”

“Tell me about it! Were we this bad?”

“Yeah.” Weiss nodded, remembering everything and cringing. “Yeah… gods, we were a lot to deal with.”

“You maybe. I was pretty-”

“Hard headed and passionate? Uncompromising on everything? Loud as hell?”

Yang sat up. “Okay already! Point taken hehe. Oh if you’re looking for Summer, she’s out in town with Veronica.”

That wasn’t an answer Weiss thought she’d hear. “For what? Those two can’t breathe in front of each other without wanting to fight.”

“Well they don’t have a choice if Veronica wants to make a perfect outfit for her. Walking, running, sitting, posture, Veronica likes seeing all of that in order to make a quality design. Kid has a real gift.” Yang crossed her arms. “Too bad people don’t give her the time of day.”

“Oh. So the situation hasn’t gotten any better for her?” Weiss asked.

Yang shrugged. She began pacing around in circles. “Besides what happened here, there hasn’t been a school fight in a while or calls home. Grades are average but that’s to be expected. No drugs either, thankfully. Pretty sure that was a one off thing. Still, Veronica is clearly unhappy and not even Blake gets much out of here these days. We’d take her therapy but she’ll run off or flat out won’t go.” Yang let out another huge sigh, slouching over. “I’m worried. I just want her talking to somebody that will listen and care.

Weiss could relate to that. “Well, at least Nick chips away at that armor of hers.”

“True. That boy is magic. I don’t wanna have him doing it all by himself though. I’m positive he has his fair share of problems too. How is he?”

“All work and no play recently. You saw how sick he was yesterday right? If I could just take a little bit of his drive and replace it with Summer’s reasoning….”

“Ruuuuude! I’m reasonable!” Shouted the boy from the balcony. “Some would say I’m actually quite flexible.

Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Those people don’t live with you! How are you feeling? Still have a fever?”

“A little one, but I think I’m alright. Well enough to go get my assignments from school? Please?” He said, giving puppy eyes that made Yang laugh and Weiss facepalm.

“Hahaha. Nick, I wish my horses worked half as hard as you do, but I think you might be giving your mother gray hair.”

“Oh he knows! I tell him all the time that one day he’ll notice my hair is gonna go from white, to silver over night because of him and his sister.”

He smiled. “And you’ll look just as beautiful.”

“Nice try, Jaune jr. Fine, you can get your work. However, you’re not walking. I’ll drive you there later and just like with training I’m gonna time you. I swear I don’t know where you get this drive from. Even I know when to take a break.”

“Not at his age.” Yang shot back. “Jaune and Ruby mellowed you out. Nick, your mother didn’t know what to do with herself sometimes. Especially when nobody was around. I’ve walked in on her reading a cookbook, in Menageran! I live there now and I barely know one dialect!”

“Blake didn’t teach them all?

“No point. There’s tons of different languages. Just ask Veronica. She knows two fluently and will gladly show it off. Did you by any chance hear the part of the conversation where your mother and I talked about her? If so, can you not mention it?”

“No worries, didn’t hear anything besides you wanting her to open up more. I don’t think you gotta worry about that too much.” Nick spoke with confidence, hitting his chest. “Veronica might not know it yet but I’m positive Eliza enjoys her company; and I’m trying my best to get Veronica to talk to Summer semi-friendly.”

Weiss was skeptical. “You’ve tried that before. Got a master plan you haven’t shared?”

He shook his head proudly. “Not at all! Hahaha!” Nick looked to the sky. Gentle snowflake flowed through a slow air current like a frozen river. “All I have is hope.”

xxxx

“This is utterly hopeless.” Was the only thing Veronica can say in despair as dozens of people stood in multiple lines to board airships. “Why is everyone up so early!? It’s been half an hour and we haven’t budged. The week day isn’t like this.”

“Of course it isn’t. People work.” Summer looked around to see familiar citizens going on and off ships with luggage; as well as complete strangers who haven’t adjusted to the cold of Atlas. “Many important people have already started showing up in advance for the tournament. They may not help like you will but coming so soon is a great excuse to explore the kingdom and gain influence. They might even drop by the schools and try recruiting if they can get away with it. Almanac is a place where-”

“I know, I know. It’s where society collides. It’s built down on Mantle as a way to expose youths like yourself to how the less fortunate live and inspire you to make the city better. Conversely, all the trips and equipment allows the kids in Mantle to have quality equipment and see Atlas up close; giving them a goal to work towards.”

“It also exposes the older people here to the citizens of Mantle. Creating situations where interactions between the two isn’t rare changes some people’s perspective, or at least makes them think twice about deciding on some affirmative action that hurts the people below. It’s a little harder to disregard the common man whenever their kids are friends with them and you know some.”

“Not really. They think twice because it isn’t smart to angry people who can get to your front door with ease.”

Summer felt her entire vibe get a little bleeker. “Way to make it pessimistic.”

“Hard not to be with a line like this!” Veronica shouted too loudly, drawing a few eyes their way. Not that she cared. “Ugh, isn’t there another means of getting down? Can’t you flex your last name and skip?”

“Weren’t you listening? A lot of high profile people are here. If I throw titles around then so will they. Then you have a bunch of rich people being snobby and being put into a bad light. That includes your family.” Summer witnessed Veronica’s agitated state get a little more restless. It was very strange. This wasn’t the “people agitate me” kind of mood Veronica showed off. No, she seemed torn up. Against her better judgment, Summer took the girl's hand in concern. “Hey are okay? You’re acting weird.”

Veronica looked at the girl's big blue eyes. It was scary how pretty those eyes were. Arc blue had its own appeal that was different then Nick’s chilling Schnee eyes. Veronica looked at her hand and pulled it away. “I’m just a little hungry and you know, lady stuff.” She lied about the second part. “Also don’t touch me without asking. You know I don’t let anybody touch me without asking.”

“Yeah between that and your semblance I can’t imagine you being much of a hugger.” Summer laughed nervously, wondering why she said that of all things. This line has single handedly forced the longest interactions they’ve had without a fight in an extremely long time. Summer was waiting for Veronica to decide on fighting here instead. They were running out of banter! “So umm...wanna eat and pray the line gets shorter when we get back?”

“Will it?” Veronica deadpanned. The lack of eye contact told her all she needed to know. This line was only gonna get worse. “Ugh. Fuck it, new plan. I’m not waiting any longer to get a ride.”

“I told you, using your title is a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to, genius. Follow me.” Veronica ditched the line and started heading back more towards the outer rim of Atlas, right where buildings and watch posts were stationed. “Let’s play a game.”

“That’s never a good sentence.” Summer instinctively moved a little slower. She was not about to get sucker punched. “What kind of game?” She was already regretting asking. It was gonna be crazy.

Veronica finally stopped moving and turned around. “A race to Mantle. The fun way.” She pointed to the edge.

Summer looked out and saw the chains extend down. One of them had a good enough angle to point them in the direction where the woods are. Right at the edge of the old slums in fact. “You’re nuts…”

“Don’t play that card!” Veronica pointed at her. “I know all about you snowboarding on these things!”

Boom! Caught red handed. No way Summer could deny that. “I promised Winter I wouldn’t needlessly endanger myself.” That was a solid excuse.

“Aren’t we literally going to the woods to mess with dangerous dust you stole?” And that was a solid answer. “You’re not gonna talk me out of this. I debate and public speak on national levels. You have a school club.”

“I’m not even in the debate club.”

“Exactly. Now stop arguing. We’re wasting time.”

As usual, Summer could only fall into whatever crazy thing would happen next. But she wasn’t giving up that easily. Veronica wouldn’t dare be too rude in public. “What’s stopping me from walking away right now? I could get on an airship and make it to the forest before you get down the chains.”

An amused chuckle came from Veronica. “Hehehe, it’s funny how wrong you are sometimes. I said race to Mantle, and I never said I was gonna use the chains.” Before Summer had a chance to even think about what she just said, Veronica fell through the ground.

It was so sudden that Summer was thankful she didn’t blink. “Veronica!?” She gasped. Now there wasn't a choice at all! “That’s so...I can’t believe..aaah! Why is she like this!?” Summer shouted to nobody. Her feet raced to the edge, then jumped. The rush of cold early morning air was more than enough for her to create a snowboard of ice that planted her right on the chains. “Can’t things be normal for once?” A path of glyphs shot down the chain. The use of her semblance with the little control over diamond dust she had made for a potent combination. Summer was blazing down the chain! The links between each one were terrifying though. A late hop could shatter the board and send her flying. “Don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up, and juuuump!” Little hops was all it took for her to soar down wards for seconds before landing. “Doing a trick or two would be pretty amazing if this wasn’t so dangerous and a race.” Summer looked around the air. “Where is she anyways?” Her gaze finally spotted the girl. Veronica was actually beneath her. The girl’s back faced the ground while her hands rested in her pockets, eyes closed blissfully. “Veronica?” Summer said. She got noanswer. Veronica continued to fall effortlessly. As if she was unconscious. Summer shouted again. “Veronica! You alright over there?” Still no answer. Now Summer was worried. “HEY!? VEE VEE!”

Not even her despised nickname gave Veronica a reaction. Summer could feel her heart start to race. “She can’t actually be unconscious right!?” Reasoning with herself wasn’t working. If by some chance Veronica was knocked out...Summer didn’t want to think about it. There was no time to think. Without another second to waste, Summer jumped off the chain and began falling towards her long term acquaintance. She brandished Myrtenaster and angled three glyphs to bounce off of to reach Veronica. Summer extended her hand in fear of the girl’s safety. “Veronica!!!!”

“Huh?” Veronica opened her eyes to see a blur of white and blue hurling towards her. “What in the-” She wasn’t the only one surprised. Summer’s eyes bugged out. The girl was completely caught off guard, crashing into Veronica and sending them spiraling through the air. Fortunately, Veronica was quick to grab Summer by the sleeve and pull her into a tight embrace for the girl’s own safety. “Summer!? What the hell!? Why did you jump!?”

“Why were your eyes closed!?!?! I thought you had passed out or something. I was screaming your name!!” Summer yelled with tears in her eyes from the fear.

“Summer I can’t hear shit when wind is roaring through my ears! I was relaxing!”

“RELAXING!? YOU ARE FREE FALLING!!!!” Summer screamed. No doubt Veronica heard that.

“IT IS A LONG FALL, SUMMER! IT IS LITERAL HANG TIME!” Veronica yelled back. She finally noticed the tears coming from Summer. At first she thought it was because of the wind but they kept coming. “Are you crying right now!?”

“YES, DUMBASS! I THOUGHT YOU WERE FALLING TO YOUR DEATH!!!”

Veronica’s heart felt like it stopped for a moment. She had no response for that. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect Summer, anyone, to freak out over something like that. It was a little haunting. If she didn’t feel like a jerk before, Veronica definitely was feeling that way now, just a little. She looked over her shoulder to see Mantle buildings and ground coming in hot. Her arms fastened tightly around Summer’s upper and lower back. “Wrap your arms and legs around me, tightly!”

Summer did as she was told and felt Veronica’s hand press against the back of her head. What should’ve been several seconds before a splat became extended free falling. Summer went from seeing the sky, buildings, the pavement, and then minerals. Crushed sediments and pavement that were firmly placed within the dirt. Summer was experiencing seeing underground for the first time. “Woah…. you can do this all the time!? You see €€this all the time!? How deep are we?

“You are quite literally being impressed by things you can see with a shovel. Now flex your stomach and try not to get the wind knocked out of you.”

Once again, Summer listened and gave a pat on the back for confirmation. A weird feeling ran over her body. As if going down an elevator, then €€boom! That feeling became ten times worse. It was like a rollercoaster on the highest drop. But instead of going down, their bodies were being forced up. The world of minerals was left behind for streets once again. Their momentum kept going up until they came to a midair stop. Summer instinctively made a platform at their feet before they fell again.

Veronica finally let go and pulled Summer off of her body. “Well that’s one way to stop. I’ll admit, clever thinking.”

“What was your plan?”

“I would five back into the ground and back up. Each time would get less air then the last before eventually I would be like several inches from the ground, or I’d land on a roof on the way down. Simple stuff.” Veronica brushed off her outfit in an attempt to get the wrinkles out. The puffy eyes looked from Summer made her let out an auditable little laugh in disbelief. “Tsk, I cannot believe you actually cried.” She teased.

Summer squinted at Veronica before folding both arms and turning her head away dramatically. “I don’t see what’s so funny. Not in the slightest.”

“That’s because you have no sense of humor.”

“What’s humorous about a death like that? It’s terrible.”

Veronica shrugged casually. “Eh, there’s worse ways to go. But ummm thanks for checking, and stuff…” Veronica jumped off the glyph and onto a roof before Summer got any mushy ideas from a thank you. “The race is null in void. Move your butt. We have ground together since we made an emergency landing.”

“We’re skipping the fact you just showed me a little gratitude?” Summer teased. She couldn’t help it. The glare shot at her for it though reminded Summer that teasing a person she had to fight soon wasn’t a great plan. Unlike Valerie, Summer wasn’t gonna get any buffs or debuffs from it. “Hehehe….I’ll start moving my butt.”

“A wise decision.”

xxxx

“Alright, we’re here.” Weiss said, parking her car into the mostly empty school parking lot. “Nick, you have fifteen minutes to get what you need. Anymore and I’m coming in to drag you out myself.”

He laughed. “Can you at least send the gigas in? If you’re gonna be extra then go all the way.” He hopped out the car and ran inside.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Weiss shouted. She was not above embarrassing him like that. Not in the slightest.

Nick jogged his way down the halls. Benefit of the weekend, no crowded halls. Just him, the occasional faculty, and the sports team. Basketball, soccer, the usual suspects. However, the sight of favorite blue haired girl in an Atlesian military uniform and the kingdom’s flag had caught his attention. Seeing Eliza with her twin tails undone and in one regular ponytail was always so shocking to him. “Yo, Eliza!” He waved.

She looked at him briefly before doing a double take. “Nick? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed resting?”

If he had a nickel…. Nick walked up to her in disbelief. “Is everyone my mom today?” He joked. “I am fine. Just grabbing my assignments. Anyways, color guard practice today? Cool. Didn’t realize I wasn’t the only one doing double duty for the tournament; though I guess I’m technically doing triple.” The weight of that hit him a little. How’d he manage that!?

“Yeah, just for the opening ceremony. I’m the lead when it comes to the flags so hehe, all eyes on me.” It was hard not to hide her nerves about the whole thing. “In terms of weight, it’s not too different from my spear. The routine is almost solid.”

Nick could tell she said that more for her benefit than his. It was funny. Eliza wasn’t one to waver most of the time. Then again, this was her first time doing this and second time competing in this tournament. “Hey, you survived cameras on you before. You fought me last year without choking.”

“Yeah, and lost miserably.” Eliza would never forget that day. “Thanks for the reminder.” She said sarcastically.

“Shut up, you got third on your first major tournament. You couldn’t ask for a better debut against veterans like myself and Val. Oh, thanks for sticking around Vee by the way.”

“Don’t mention it. I did it more for me than you anyways.”

“Ouch. You’re so cruel to your work husband.”

Eliza’s face turned a little red. She pointed her finger at him and sparked it with magical electricity. “Never say that again.”

“Hahaha! I’m just teasing. I still appreciate the help. Anyways, I gotta go get my stuff and bail before my mom makes due on a not so empty threat. Bye!” He ran off past her towards his classrooms.”

“Council room” Eliza said, making Nick stop halfway down the hall. “All your work...I put it in the council room for you.” Even from a distance she could see Nick’s eyes light up. Did it really not take much to make this boy happy?

“Awww Eliza-” she pointed at him again with Fire this time. Nick thought it best to quit while he was ahead and continued walking. Although, he made a little mental note for later. “Hmmm, I wonder if Eliza would be good at candle training. Fire is fire after all. Magic or dust wise.” Nick continued pondering the idea. Magic has always been cool to Nick. The fact he actually knew a person could do it was especially cool. If he could trade being the heir for being the first person with magic in centuries, he might not think twice about it. Nick couldn’t help but fantasize about a life with lower expectations and no heavy title. “Vee is right. I should really talk to my uncle about this. Well, after the tournament, or maybe do it beforehand then soften the blow by winning gold? That would be good.” He turned a corner, failing to check for on comers. “Look at me, talking as if I don’t have to face-” Nick ran head onto Valerie hard and stumbled back.

His friend dropped a bunch of hockey sticks. Some of which hammering her toes. “Ow!” She screamed, her team hearing from several feet away. “Hey watch where you’re- Nick?”

“Hey Val…” He said nasally. The impact had him rubbing his nose gently as it turned red. “Tackling you must be a nightmare. You're like a wall of tanks.” His strange analogy was ignored entirely. He looked up at Valerie and saw nothing but shock and irritation as she pulled him close, real close.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I’m the one who told you to get rest? I didn’t know it was bad enough for you to be bed ridden.”

“I uhh well you see…” Focusing was hard enough from the crash. The literal inch between them made Nick feel unprepared. Though her face was upset, he still found beauty in it. Especially with the hint of care he saw her turquoise eyes. “You said you wanted space. So I thought I wouldn’t bother you.” He finally said, hesitantly. Valerie didn’t seem too happy with his response.

“Idiot.” Valerie said, “If it’s about your health then blow up my phone for all care!” She huffed. Valerie’s cheeks turned a little red. “Are we clear?” Nick didn’t respond back. His eyes avoided her gaze and he seemed uncomfortable. “Nick? You alright?”

He looked towards her, a little nervous. “Can I make it up to you? Since you were worried and all?”

“What are you-”

“Not as a date if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Nick reassured, “Clearly I upset you so let me fix it by taking you to your favorite dine in restaurant? These last couple days I…missed you okay?” He could feel his face turning red. Platonic or not, this sounded like a confession. And yet Valerie hadn’t let go of him yet. It might’ve been his imagination, but he could’ve sworn she had gotten redder.

Valerie could feel herself being apart mentally. Nick wasn’t one to lie, but enduring was what he did best. How often did he think about her while he was sick? Did she make his fever worse? Was not telling him more painful for him than it was her? Valerie didn’t know. Making sense of any of it wasn’t important. “Nick I-” her voice was cut off by the murmurs of the halls. Athletes and onlookers passed by with their whispers and giggles. They had once again made a spectacle out of nothing. Another thing for idiots to gossip about and spread their lies. Valerie couldn’t stand it. Her blood began to boil. It never failed. Nick had made life, her life, a little more about him and less about her. Valerie finally let go of him, pushing him away. “No, sorry.” She said, clearly irritated. “I still want my space; and we both know how you are. Date or not, you just can’t help yourself but pull out the red carpet act like if I need you when I don’t. It’s pretty…” Nick didn’t let her finish. He turned his back to her. It was only then Valerie realized just how much she was mouthing off. “Wait that came out wrong.” She double backed, “I…”

“You don’t get to do that.” Nick finally bit back, “Telling me I should’ve called and that you care, only to push me away at your convenience. Now you’re berating me? What is with you lately!?” His voice echoed through the hall. It was only then he paid attention to his peers who quickly moved along the moment he tried meeting their gaze. Suddenly, something clicked. “Are you...embarrassed by me?” He said, mid revelation.

“You’re causing a scene, Nick.” She muffled, unusually reserved. “Listen, I just think the tournament takes priority is all.” Valerie lies, unknowingly letting her pride get the better of her. “I’m not embarrassed by you, honest.”

“So why do you brush me off every time people are around huh? I’m not a mind reader. Just come out with it.” He got no answer. Just silence while Valerie’s eyes looked for people who might still be watching. Now he was really annoyed, and he wasn’t even sure if it was because of Valerie or himself for getting worked up in the first place. “You know what? Forget it. Have it your way. I’m too ill to argue.” He said dismissively. Nick walked away from the argument to get what he came for. He was on a time limit anyway.

Valerie watched her friend turn the corner, hurt by her words. Or maybe the lack of them. Valerie turned around to go back to practice and stopped after only one step, stunned by the sight of her mother carrying extra sports gear.

Nora let out an exhausted sigh then smiled, “Oh boy. Here I thought your biggest worry today would be run down knee pads.” She laughed awkwardly at her own ice breaker. “Wanna talk about it later.”

Valerie got closer. She took the gear from her mother and went towards the gym. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Nora let Valerie get away. There will be time for questions later. Nora put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Teenagers.”

xxxx

Neither twin was having the best mood right now. Summer could feel her heart beating out of her chest the deeper into the woods she went. Ever since the free fall, Veronica had gone silent. Any attempt at conversion was ignored. She just kept walking deeper and deeper until everything started to look the same to Summer. Thankfully no grimm had appeared, but if they kept walking aimlessly like this… “I think this far enough, Veronica.” Summer said. Veronica actually listened and stopped before turning around.

“Yeah, this’ll do nicely.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the diamond dust while dropping her bag. “I say it’s about time we get this over with. Catch.” She tossed the vial of dust, underhanded.

Summer nearly panicked as she caught it midair. “What are you-don’t do that! This stuff is dangerous!” If her nerves weren’t shot before, they were now.

“The dangerous part is yet to come.” Veronica engaged Ember Celica and brought her fists up. She would’ve liked to remove the jacket, but a piece of her mind told her it was far wiser to keep the extra layer of warmth and protection. “Well?”

“Yeah, what are you waiting for?”Said the alluring lethal voice inside of Summer’s head, sending chills up her spine. This wasn’t the cold’s doing. No, this was fear. Pure unkempt adrenaline that made her stomach twisted into knots and body shiver. “She’s asking for it, so let her have it. Better her than fear sweet Nicholas, right?”

Summer couldn’t stop shaking in place. This wasn't the plan. Not like this so much could go wrong. Was she really to fight Shiva again? Did Veronica stand a chance? Just how much stronger would Shiva’s grip be by doing this. If they failed, if she wasn’t strong enough then…that might be it. This wasn’t just her own life at stake either. Summer already thought Veronica might’ve died today. If it was by her own hands…

Bile threatened to come up and out of throat. Summer couldn’t even see straight anymore. The trees spun around her and her balance felt off. The whole world seemed to crush her under her own weight and tears-

“Lesson learned.” Called out Veronica, bringing reality back to Summer. She hadn’t realized it through her panic attack, but Veronica had gotten remarkably close to her, looking right into her soul and placing a hand to rub Summer’s pale cheek. Summer was so overwhelmed she began stammering. “W-What a...are y-you-”

“This terrifying fear that’s crippling you; the absolute anxiety of knowing how potentially dangerous it would be to pull a stunt like this? Maybe remember it the next time you wanna drag Nick into one of your reckless training, kay?” Veronica took the Diamond Dust away from Summer and returned it to her pocket. “Okay, now for the real reason we’re here. We need things for your outfit and so on.”

Summer watched Veronica nonchalantly lift her bag and walk off again. She couldn’t be it. This entire was a set up. A guilt trip into thinking more about Nick’s safety, and it worked. The humiliation of it all. What’s worse was Summer felt...like she deserved it? Did Nick ever feel this, this fear? How many times did she want to train her control and he went along with it? Why did he go along with it!? Her body felt weak, exhausted. Summer stumbled back against a tree, sliding down until she sat in the snow on the verge of breaking down. “Stop.” She said, weak and afraid. “I need a minute, so please stop.”

Veronica looked back to see the state Summer was in. No longer was she fighting back tears. Summer openly wept as she hugged her knees tightly to try and stop the shaking. She wasn’t the only one feeling guilty.

“Damnit Veronica! I didn’t think it would scare her this bad or make her cry!”Veronica walked back to the fragile girl and sat next to her quietly. This was a complete disaster. Emotional vulnerability was never a thing Veronica was good at doing or dealing with. She took a chance and used her tail to wipe Summer’s wet face, gaining her attention. “I ummm, wasn’t trying to...a panic attack was not in my plans. You looked a little frantic at first but then you spiraled in the blink of an eye. I’m…” Veronica looked away, her ears folded in shame. “I fucked up. My bad. Nick told me to take it easy on you and here I am being worse than usual.”

Summer sniffled. She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to being comforted. Especially by Veronica of all people. Still, it felt nice. Different from others. That’s for sure. “I’m sorry.”

That was out of left field. “What?” Said Veronica, turning back around. “Umm I don’t think you know how apologies work. I mean I barely do, but this isn’t right.”

“I said some things I didn’t mean about you yesterday. I was angry at myself and directed it to you. I may not know what bothers you but I know you probably have shit in your life going on too.”

“Yeah well...we’re famous. Problems come with the territory, and puberty.”

“Eh, can’t relate. High regen and pain tolerance. I don’t get cramps, or get sick. The only upside to getting blasted with dust no scientist can identify.”

“I probably shouldn’t envy you but maaaan, little jealous. Not gonna lie.”

The girls shared a small chuckle for what it was worth. Summer sniffled again and rubbed her eyes. “Ya know, we don’t really...talk, do we? Not since we were five. I’m sure there’s a lot of things we could learn.”

Veronica couldn’t suppress her unwilling groan. Bonding was not on her agenda. However, Veronica couldn’t help but think about Nick’s words and her promise to him. “Let’s make a truce? We have to spend time together. There’s no getting around it.”

“I’m painfully aware…” Summer moaned. “What’s the truce?”

Veronica stood up and reached for Summer’s hand, lifting her up as well. “I will do my damnedest to be less confrontational if you do as well. Also if you are willing to explain this whole Shiva business to me, then… I’ll explain my faunus business. I suppose.” Her tail instinctively wrapped around her waist for security. She could tell by Summer’s expression that she was definitely intrigued. It was warranted. Veronica didn’t speak much about it on purpose. Now she was offering it on a silver platter. “Well?” She said anxiously”

Summer retook Veronica’s hand and shook it. “Alright, truce.”

[morethanaprincess-a]

@despairfiles​ said: ship bias + crossover edition!

Ship Bias (Please send a theme if you’d like to send one in! It really helps me not run out of ship ideas)

Before I start, two disclaimers: One, this is for canon crossover muses (minus one canon genre that I’ll address in another reply). And two, this is by no means exhaustive of the canon ships I’ve written, want to write, or enjoy on this blog. Instead, I’ve chosen ships I’ve written or plotted recently or ships I’ve been more interested in writing as of late. If our ship is not in this list it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten about it nor do I dislike it.

Now onto the ships:

Sonia/Shirou Emiya (Fate series) - It’s only right this one comes first! Beyond having a writing partner who enjoys a specific brand of angst and will-they-won’t-they, I could already see that Sonia would be attracted to Shirou’s sense of heroism when I watched Unlimited Blade Works. Chest discourse aside, Sonia’s very much attracted to acts of service, a love language she readily performs herself. But seeing it in others, supporting and caring for those who especially need it, that strikes a chord with her. So even pre-Despair, she’s had an affinity for Shirou the more she learned about what he’s endured.

Post-Despair, Queen Sonia lives a tormented existence of wanting to order him out of the Castle and ordering him to shut up and kiss her already. When they first met (well, to Sonia anyway. She doesn’t remember her friend from Japan, Shirou Emiya, yet. Though she’s recalling bits and pieces of certain experiences they’ve shared), she wanted little to do with him and his bitter, condescending attitude. That’s changed the more they’ve begun to warm up to and understand one another, and now it’s taking pretty much all of her resolve and sense of duty not to pin him against the wall and snog him. 

She also doesn’t know he was the one who tried to assassinate her. She might not ever find out, and that adds just another angst factor to that relationship.

Sonia/Ryuji Sakamoto (Persona 5) - This ship exists as a favorite for precisely two reasons. 1. I’m exceptionally weak for the poor/bad boy and rich girl trope. It gives me a valid excuse to blast Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl and MC Solaar’s La Belle et Le Bad Boy on repeat for inspiration. 2. I’ve happened to meet two exceptionally talented, wonderful muns who write Ryuji so well. In fact, I’m pretty much convinced that if a mun has Ryuji as a muse, the mun is likely very cool. Romance, friendship, please give me Ryuji and Sonia interactions. They come from two very different worlds and sets of values but they’re also generally upbeat, cheerful people who are equally interested and pleased to learn about one another. I will not deny that this is a similar ship to my favorite Persona 5 canon ship, Ryuji/Haru. But Haru and Sonia have their differences, which leads me to my next ship...

Sonia/Haru Okumura (Persona 5) - I’ve seen P5 protag/Haru and Ryuji/Haru on my dash, but might I offer the Sonia/Haru ship? Best friends, lovers, both? Both are good. But two patient, sweet, and generous girls who became friends quickly and fell in love slowly? Yes, this is a good dynamic. Sonia would have never let Haru marry Sugimura, either. Even if it took quite a lot of persuasion to make that happen (because Haru deserves better and she loves her). They’d have the constant disagreement of coffee vs. tea as a superior beverage, but they’d embrace and love everything about one another, from their strengths to their perceived faults. The luxurious professional lives they both need to lead as CEO and Queen don’t have be stuffy or devoid of fun, not if they have each other to lean on. And speaking of childhood friends to lovers...

Sonia/Sophie Hatter (Howl’s Moving Castle) - Because @madamhatter​ is Sonia’s first childhood friend turned crush turned lover and I adore their relationship and interactions. Sophie and Sonia have resulted in one of my favorite threads of all time, the oven demon possession. But silliness aside, they both struggle with their respective family dynamics and the pressure to succeed in their various disciplines. Sophie isn’t afraid to be blunt with Sonia and call her out on her bullshit (everything except their growing affections for one another, tbh. Admitting they have crushes on one another? Blasphemy!) and Sonia finds Sophie witty, brilliant, beautiful, kind, and in need of someone who loves her fully and isn’t afraid to remind her of that. With pillow and blanket forts, and British comfort foods shipped in as surprise treats, and always sharing the good scotch.

Besides, Sophie will definitely create Sonia’s wedding attire one day. Why not for their own wedding? It was probably Sophie’s suggestion for adult Princess Sonia to adapt perfectly tailored suits alongside her dresses and skirts for professional occasions, and both of them have some very strong suit game. 

You cannot deny two beautiful, powerful women in expert tailoring. Sonia wears hers with high heels, of course.

Those are the main, current ones I’ve been thinking about recently. Though for no reason but pure curiosity, I wonder what Sonia/Saber (Fate series) would look like. I’m not familiar enough with Fate to give Sonia a Fate verse that makes sense, and I’m not great with magic and fantasy combat scenarios. But I think at least writing interactions between these two would be fun to see. Whether friendship or romance, I’m happy with either.

[mainly-kpop]

Viagra Series

Jungkook

Word count: 2665

Warnings: smut obviously, accidental, prank gone wrong, pill taking, masterbation, public, frat, switch!Jungkook, switch!reader

A cup meant for another, it was an accident really. It wasn't meant to happen like this, but fate has interesting ways of working things out.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, it kind of was she guessed, but it wasn’t supposed to happen to him. Realistically she probably shouldn’t have done it in the first place, but if a prank war was happening, she sure as hell was going to bring out the big guns.

‘You can’t do this, like you really can’t! You don’t know if he’s allergic or if he will have a bad reaction, this is so dangerous.’ Namjoon spoke, pleading to her level head. Unfortunately, that flew out the window when this stupid war started. She rolled her eyes listening to the party in the back, the laughter and noise coming from the main room, Tae in the middle of it all as usual. She opened the tablet up, pouring the contents into his drink swirling it around.

‘Listen, it’s not like the boy has never taken Viagra before, he’s a grown ass man, he will be fine.’ She smiled reassuringly, taking the drink out, she made eye contact with the boy telling him silently she brought his drink through. He looked at her suspiciously for a second, she rolled her eyes taking a sip of the drink proving it was perfectly drinkable. He smiled before turning back to the group he was with.

‘Wait Kookie, what cup is yours?’ Tae yelled over the loud music, Jungkook looked up from his phone, eyeing the identical cups before shrugging.

‘What does it matter man, it’s all cheap beer.’ He stated diving back into his phone, he wasn’t much into these parties. The drunk people, the grinding, the girls throwing themselves at anyone within a 3 foot radius, it was so boring to him. Tae rolled his eyes picking up a cup downing the contents, she eyed him from across the room laughing to herself.

‘You’re the worst.’ Namjoon spoke, watching the whole thing take place. He rolled his eyes walking away, but not before dumping out his drink and pouring himself a new one.

‘Hey Kookie!’ She said throwing herself down on the couch next to him, he gasped in fright, phone flying from his hand, fumbling in the air to catch it for a minute before he let hit fall into his lap. He placed his hand dramatically over his heart trying to calm his heart beat, she giggled leaning her head onto his shoulder.

‘You scared the shit out of me.’ He spoke reaching forward for his cup, he motioned towards her, asking if she wanted any, she shook her head responding no before he downed the entire cup.

‘Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, just thought you looked bored, thought you might like some company.’ He smiled warmly at her, the beer leaving a funny taste in his mouth, this really was cheap shit.

‘You’re not going to be like one of those other girls right? Like you’re not going to randomly kiss me or start grinding on me?’ He asked cynically, with a hint of sarcasm. She gasped, placing a hand over her heart faking shock and innocence.

‘Me?! Do you think so lowly of me Mr. Jeon?!’ She teased, Jungkook rolling his eyes, she placed a hand on his thigh, leaning into his ear.

‘I will only do such things, if requested.’ The suggestion had his interest piqued, he had always had a crush on her, but he was too painfully shy. He could hardly sit in a room with her alone, let alone here at a party, the miniature amount of confidence he had in this conversation was purely down to liquid courage. He gulped feeling blood rushing to his crotch, ‘no no no, not now’ he thought. He had never been one to randomly get a boner, this wasn’t normal, something was happening. He sprung up from the couch, quickly making up an excuse as to why he had to leave so abruptly before running off to his bedroom. She sat there confused for a moment, what was that about?

‘Oh dear, oh dear, what did you say to him?’ Jin questioned, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

‘Nothing, uh, bad I don’t think.’ She spoke timidly, did she do anything wrong really? She stood up from the couch, sighing and heading in the same direction as Jungkook went, if she was fast enough she might still be able to witness Taes Viagra boner.

‘Jungkook? Kookie? You in here?’ She locked his bedroom door behind her, just in case he was really upset about something, that way it stopped anyone coming in if he started crying or something. She knew how much more sensitive he was compared to the others, if they realised how much he broke down to her about course work, they would tease the poor boy. She knocked on the adjoined bathroom door, assuming he was in there.

‘Kookie? You in there?’ He rose up from the toilet seat, leaving his trousers thrown across the floor, he ran out of the room grabbing her arm, dragging her back to the door.

‘I’m really sorry, but you can’t be in here right-‘ his sentence broke off as the key did, he held the top of it in his hand, the rest stuck in the door, they were locked in his room. ‘now.’ He whispered pressing his head against the door. A string of fucks fell from his lips, gradually getting louder and more panicked.

‘Jungkook, you’re worrying me, what’s wrong?’ She grabbed his shoulder to turn him around, but he shrugged her off smacking his head one more time off the door, there was no way of getting around this. He beelined for the bathroom and she followed him closely behind, stopping the door from closing on her.

‘Jungkook, tell me what the hell is wrong with you?!’ She yelled, trying to get him to speak.

‘GOD YOU’RE SO ANNOYING!’ He yelled, causing her to jump in fright. He never raised his voice at her, never so much as huffed at her.

‘Fuck I’m sorry, I just uh, I have a problem I need to deal with and since we are locked in here, I need you to turn around so I can, uh, deal with it.’ She frowned for a moment shrugging and turning around anyways. Realistically, she wasn’t locked in this bathroom, she could leave if it was required, if he had asked. She was far too intrigued however, as to what this problem was.

He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. About to straight up jack himself off, with her standing right behind him. She was about to hear his moans, his hand stroking over the length of his dick, she was about to hear every disgusting little detail but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was far too turned on, far too caught up in the lust for nothing in particular, to care about what she could and couldn’t hear.

He took a deep breath, reaching into his boxers, pulling out his dick. He wrapped his hand around it enjoying the feeling, of finally getting some kind of release. He let out a breathy moan, squeezing it a little harder, pumping his hand up and down. She could hear every movement of his slightly wet hand moving along his erect dick, her legs squeezed together, slowly getting exceptionally turned on from this whole situation. He let out a groan of anger and frustration, slamming his hand against the wall. No matter how much he jacked himself he couldn’t get any fucking release, this had to be some kind of joke.

‘Jungkook, I know what your problem is, let me help you.’ She spoke from behind him, he had his back to her, in this small bathroom if she moved just one step, they would be pushed up against each other. He shook his head, dick still in hand, she could see how tense he was, running a hand down his back he straightened up, the slight touch making his dick twitch in his hand and his eyes roll back.

‘No, fuck no, you can’t, well you know I can’t let you, its weird, I can’t.’ He battled himself, he knew it was the best way to get over this, but having her, do this, could genuinely be the most painfully embarrassing thing that’s ever happened.

‘I won’t look, I can close my eyes, just please let me help you.’ She whispered, trailing her hands down his sides, reaching around playing teasingly with the hem of his boxers. He sighed, giving in, pulling the boxers down as he spoke.

‘Fine close your eyes, I’m turning around.’ She bit her lip stepping back a pace, closing her eyes tightly. He turned around, groaning internally, this was so weird. He took hold of her hand shakily, bringing it over to his dick, placing her hand around it, she began straight away running her hand upwards, dragging her thumb gently over the tip, the pre cum coating the tip of her finger. He whimpered at the sensation, stepping half a step closer to her.

A couple minutes in, he still was nowhere near his release, he could see she was getting tired, that she couldn’t keep this up any longer. He moved his hand along her neck, under her ear, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek, he leaned in gently, pressing a feather light kiss to her lips. The kiss proved a perfect contrast from what was currently going on between their bodies.

‘I know this is going to be weird tomorrow, and we may never be able to look each other in the eyes again, but please, I need you to sit on my dick. Fuck I need it so bad.’ He begged, practically whined for her to help him more than she was. He eyes fluttered open, taking in the sight before her, Jungkooks pained expression, his pleading eyes. This poor boy, she was starting to get a hint at what was wrong, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for it all. She grabbed his hand, dragging him though to his bedroom, pushing him gently down onto the bed she straddled him, locking their lips together once again. This time in a more heated kiss, one that, if this went tits up, they could never come back from. Her hand trailed down his chest, forcing the shirt off his torso when she got to the hem, he sat up pulling it over his head. Hands coming down to rest comfortably on her hips, pushing her clothed core onto his painfully erect dick.

‘Fuck you’re so hot.’ He mumbled into her lips, her hips grinding rhythmically against him, causing small and breathy moans to fall from each of them. She smirked at his confession, the lust clearly changing him from this shy, wouldn’t even look at a girl kind of guy, to this dirty talking, ‘fuck me please baby girl’ kind of man. It was turning her on, so much so she sank down onto her knees, ready to make up for this Viagra boner.

‘Let me make you feel good.’ She spoke alluringly, pushing him to lie back on the bed. His dick stood upright, so sore and hard she pitied him. She ran her hands along his thighs, both connecting eventually at the base of his dick, adding some pressure. Licking a strip from the base to the tip, she kept eye contact with him taking the tip gently into her mouth. He let out a moan, finally feeling something other than a dry hand, pumping up and down endlessly. Her mouth was warm and tight around his dick, making his head lull back in pure bliss. He could feel himself nearing the edge finally, but he didn’t forget what he asked for. Grabbing at her chin, he eased her off his dick pulling her back up to his mouth, pressing their lips together, in a hungry, open mouthed kiss.

‘I haven’t forgotten what I asked for, sit on my dick baby, let me make you feel good too.’ She didn’t need much more convincing, slipping her panties off quickly, pulling the tight t-shirt dress up over her hips. He trailed his finger through her slit, coating his finger in her wetness before groaning.

‘Fuck, you’re so wet, I bet I’ll just slip right in won’t I baby?’ She nodded, biting her lip, positioning herself right above him. She looked in his eyes one more time for reassurance, he nodded, giving her the hint to sink down. She sank right down, sitting directly in his lap, staying still for a moment to adjust. He whimpered at the sensation, god he had waited for this, for her, never did he think this night would end up here. He was caught up in thought when she began to move, hips rising and falling, slamming into him over and over, a loud whimper erupted from him, causing a smirk to develop on her lips.

‘Does that feel good Kookie? I love the little noises you make.’ This was new for him, never once had he been dominated, never once did he think about wanting to be. She was a switch, depending on how she felt, right now she felt powerful, she felt in charge, it only seemed fitting to dominate the whimpering and squirming mess below her. He enjoyed the feeling of being under someone’s control a lot more than he thought he would, or maybe it was because he had been lusting over her for years.

He gripped her hips tightly, pushing her further down onto him, chasing his high, he could feel it, he just needed deeper, faster, tighter. She could tell he was close, squirming and whining, chasing the high, his dick twitching every now and then, bouncing off her walls.

‘Fuck me Kookie, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk.’ She spoke into his ear, nipping his earlobe between her teeth. No more encouragement was needed, effortlessly, he flipped them both over, pounding into her hard and fast. The new angle causing him to smack her G-spot every time. She screamed out in pleasure, now letting the whole house know what was happening.

‘That’s right baby, let the whole house know who fucks you this good, scream my name won’t you?’ He rasped in her ear, nipping her earlobe in revenge. He would have never considered himself a switch before today.

‘UGNH FUCK JUNGKOOK I’M-‘ She moaned, loud enough for anyone passing the door to know exactly what was going on. She came hard, back arching, flushing her stomach against his, sweaty bodies moving against each other until he came moments after. Breathing hard, he pulled out wincing at the sensitivity, dragging her through to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

‘So what now?’ He spoke, lying next to her in his bed, arm wrapped around her shoulder, her head resting on his chest, fingers tracing the outline of his stomach muscles.

‘Well I mean, I guess we are stuck in here until morning. We can text one of them and-‘

‘No what now, with like us...’ He spoke, her fingers stilling for a moment before continuing.

‘Can I tell you something and you can make your mind up after?’ He looked down at her, hesitantly however, he replied.

‘Um, sure...’

‘I gave you Viagra.’ She braced herself for yelling but it never came, he lay there in silence for a while, staring at the ceiling. There was no sound from him so she propped herself up on her elbows, looking him in the eye.

‘What the fuck, why?’ Were the only words to escape his mouth, she explained quickly the cup mix up, and how it really wasn’t meant to be him, it wasn’t meant to happen this way.

‘You’re a fucking idiot.’ He spoke stroking her back, easing her to lie back down.

‘So still want a date?’ She replied cheekily.

[fallinnflower]

pink in the night

baron x reader (fluff, soulmate!au, non-idol!au) 

a/n: this was requested by @randomkpopfiction, thank you for your support and for being so patient with me!! i hope you like this~ also here’s the song i’m referencing with the title the lyrics felt right for this song

The first time you were taught what a soulmate mark was, you were eight years old. You barely had more than a passing interest in boys, but somehow the tales the teachers wove for you about finding your soulmate still made your heart flutter. 

The sensation quickly vanished upon your next encounter with your male best friend, who was more annoying than anything at that age. But that disgust couldn’t last long in the face of fate, and soon you were pre-adolescent and fantasizing about falling in love on your eighteenth birthday with the perfect boy and living happily ever after. 

You’ve known Baron longer than you’ve known about soulmates. 

The two of you had gone to daycare together, and become fast friends; your play dates only increased in frequency as you entered school, until eventually play dates were ‘uncool’ and you were simply studying together. Baron would walk to and from school with you every day, and the two of you would regale stories from your separate classes. Sometimes he would hold your hand, always seeking affection from you, and you really thought nothing of it. 

Not until you were sixteen. 

Baron was older than you by a handful of months, so rather he was on the edge of seventeen and you were still thoroughly sixteen, when you realized that maybe your feelings for Baron weren’t entirely friendly. The chubby-cheeked boy of your youth had grown into a slender teenager seemingly overnight, and you had to admit he looked particularly princely at one of your classmates’ birthday party. 

Your classmate came from a wealthy family, and had somehow fallen in love with the American show “My Super Sweet Sixteen,” and had begged her parents to allow her to throw one. She was an exceptional student and extremely kind, so they granted her wish — everyone attended in the most formal wear they could scrap together, and attended the birthday ball in style. 

You and Baron had gone with a group of friends, and when the first slow song of the night came on you felt yourself hanging back. Your friends all paired up, smiling bashfully, and you simply shrunk into yourself, sipping on punch from the refreshment table. 

You convinced yourself you were fine being alone on the balcony, but you were certainly thrilled when your MIA best friend appeared with a gentle,

“Boo!” 

“Don’t do that!” You snapped, though you couldn’t help but smile as you playfully punched him. “I could’ve spilled my drink!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, though he didn’t look sorry at all. You hardly had time to mind, however, since he was suddenly holding out his hand towards you with a more serious glint in his eye. 

“Dance with me?” 

To say you were shocked was an understatement. Baron was handsome, and he was popular — most people probably wanted to dance with him on a night like tonight. 

And yet he chose you. 

To your surprise, he didn’t lead you back into the main room; he simply pulled you closer to him and began to sway with the melody right out under the stars. With his gaze on you, intent and fond, you somehow felt as though this night was about you and not your classmate. 

Baron spun you, sending you into a short fit of giggles which lasted until he pulled you flush against him and fixed you with a serious look you’d never seen before. You felt your heart begin to hammer as Baron slowly leaned in toward you, before it skipped a beat entirely as his lips pressed against yours. 

Your first kiss was short-lived, gentle but a bit awkward, and yet it left you both with beaming grins and bright red cheeks. 

That night, however, when you lay in bed, you felt a little crack split through your heart. You and Baron… you both had soulmates out there, somewhere, waiting for you. And if you took this chance with Baron, you risked hurting the both of you and your future soulmates — and losing your best friend. 

You didn’t sleep well that night. 

Two days later, on Monday afternoon, Baron was sitting across from you on your bedroom floor doing homework. Your heart was racing while you were around him, but the guilt lingering in the back of your mind made you feel sick. 

“Hey, Y/N?” He asked. You pretended to be working very hard on your math homework as you replied. 

“Yes?”

“Would you… go on a date with me this weekend?” 

You nearly snapped the pencil you had in your hand. Baron was positively beaming, his eyes glittering, and you felt your heart split in two because you felt, truly and deeply, that any answer you gave him would hurt him badly. 

You promptly burst into tears, and Baron held you until you calmed down. It never came up again. 

Your eighteenth birthday is looming on the horizon, a mere two days away, and as you lay staring at your ceiling you’re shocked at how scared you feel. Excitement, of course, you expected — but you feel legitimately frightened by the prospect of receiving your soulmark. And you know why, but you aren’t exactly ready to admit it fully to yourself.

In the years after your first kiss, Baron had always let you know in small ways that he was available and willing should you change your mind. Even after getting his soulmark three months ago — an assortment of black lines which resembled almost a flower, but maybe almost a fish, on the inside of his right wrist — he had continued to flirt gently with you; to seek your affection as he always had. 

Your friends like to tease that the two of you were meant to be and would definitely turn out to be soulmates (you aren’t entirely convinced Ayno and Ziu don’t have a bet running on it) and it’s precisely that certainty which makes you so anxious. 

If Baron isn’t your soulmate, you know it will break his heart (and yours); despite pushing aside your feelings for years, you still love Baron dearly in every sense of the word, although you’ve never told anyone that. 

As if sensing that you were getting too in your own head, your phone pings with a message. Baron’s name pops up on screen and you can’t help but smile at his text, which offers you ice cream and a walk around the local park if you come downstairs within the next ten minutes. 

You’re down in less than five. 

“So,” he says, as the two of you venture down the street. “One or two scoops today?” You sigh. 

“Two, please.” Baron laughs and casually slings an arm around your shoulders as you walk. You allow yourself to lean into him, wondering if this might be one of the last instances where you can be this casually affectionate with him. 

“Whatever you want,” he says, and you bite into your lip. 

You wonder if it’s wrong to want to be with Baron, regardless of everything; if it’s wrong to wonder if fate had somehow cheated you out of something amazing. 

You push it out of your mind as the two of you enter the ice cream shop, and do your best not to think too hard about it — but your heart sinks every time you catch a glimpse of the little tattoo on his wrist, wondering just what your birthday would bring. 

Your birthday party was initially intended to be a surprise party, and you know this because Ziu is particularly bad at being quiet about anything, especially when he’s excited. Despite knowing, you do your best to act surprised because you know Baron and St. Van will be sad if they find out you know, and a sad Baron is hard enough for you to handle without poor, sweet Geumhyuk moping about too. So, you try not to dress up too much (but you know they’ll be taking pictures, and you want to look good), and try your best to ignore the sounds you can hear through your front door.

These boys. You love them, but subtlety just… isn’t their thing. You’re already smiling before you’ve even turned the doorknob, anticipating what lies beyond.

Shortly put, it’s a mess. When you open the door, multiple party poppers go off and the only distinct voice you hear is Ziu’s, yelling directly into your left ear. You laugh and teasingly admonish him as Lou sticks a very large, sparkling crown on your head. It’s pandemonium, all glittering and loud, but you can’t keep the smile off your face as your best friend appears to guide you through the festivities of the evening. For the first time that day, you aren’t counting down the minutes until your birthday officially happens, and your soulmark will appear.

Ayno convinces everyone to participate in a dance battle for your personal enjoyment — you, actually, are allowed to sit back on the comfiest seat in the house, eat as many snacks as you want (courtesy of Geumhyuk, bless his heart), and choose all the songs. The winner of the competition gets to give you their gift first, and Baron, unsurprisingly, is exceptionally eager at this prospect. In the end, it boils down to just him and Ayno, yourself and all the other guests watching with bated breath. Just as the song ends, a timer goes off on someone’s phone — you turn your attention to the sudden flash of movement that is Geumhyuk slipping into the kitchen, and catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

Your soulmark is going to appear in less than five minutes. You don’t really register who wins, too busy counting the seconds, until Baron places his hand on your shoulder. When you turn to look at him, you find a small box extended towards you, and realize he must have won the dance competition. It takes most of your willpower to smile and accept the gift, anxiety starting to gnaw at you once more.

Inside the box is a necklace with a delicate silver chain with a pendant made of a pale pink stone in a perfect disc shape. Baron doesn’t say a word as he plucks it out of the box, and you move your hair aside to allow him to clasp it on you; his fingers brush against the nape of your neck and you suppress a shiver, feeling that same guilt squeeze your chest as you gently brush your own fingers along the pendant resting above your heart.

What’s going to happen, if you and Baron aren’t soulmates? 

As if he senses your worries, he hands you a little card you hadn’t seen at the bottom of the box that appears to be from the jewelry store. Pink Calcite, it reads, enhances the heart’s way of knowing — the wordless awareness that we mean when we say, “I knew it in my heart.” You turn the card over to find that Baron has simply written “영원히” and drawn a little heart beside his name. With your heart in your throat, you turn to look at him, only to find his attention directed at the clock. Suddenly, someone dims the lights, and Geumhyuk shoulders his way out of the kitchen holding your birthday cake. This is it, you think. All other thoughts leave your mind, and you can’t pin down quite how you feel.

Unable to think of a single other way to cope, you look to Baron for reassurance. He smiles at you, just like he always does, and reaches out to take your hand; you only just notice that his soulmark is covered today. 

The candles flicker gently before your eyes, and you hear Baron’s gentle voice singing right beside you as you stare into the flames. The seconds tick down, and you close your eyes, wishing for just one thing as you blow out the candles.

Geumhyuk is serving the cake and your mark is very, very slowly making its appearance. Or, really, it’s not that slow — it took Ace’s mark almost four hours to develop fully, and yours is already starting to pick up pigment in some places, so it shouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t, if you could just stop thinking about how Baron has been tense ever since you blew out those candles and how quickly he let go of your hand to go help cut the cake. You fiddle nervously with the pendant he gave you, picking at your cake while everyone else gets theirs served, and hope this won’t take long.

You open gifts, and everything feels painfully slow. Just like at every birthday party you’ve ever had, Baron is the one who sits beside you on the floor and collects all the wrapping paper scraps so you don’t have to later — only this time he’s more quiet, and you can tell he’s just as nervous as you.

What you don’t realize is how intently he watches your wrist every time you peel back paper, or show off a gift, or pass him the trash. You don’t see how his eyes trace the shape of your tattoo every spare second he has, and how each passing moment seems to be enlivening him. 

It doesn’t occur to you at all until everyone has left except you and Baron, and you’re cleaning up. The boys had the wonderful forethought to get paper and plastic dishes and utensils, and Baron is washing the cake cutter while you pick up cups from around the living area.

You accidentally glimpse your wrist and drop the entire stack in your hands, juice and soda spilling across the hardwood at your feet as you stare in shock at your fully formed mark. Baron’s doesn’t even dry his hands before he’s rushing out of the kitchen to make sure you’re okay, taking you gently by the shoulders to maneuver you away from the spill. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, understandably off-put, and you can’t even find it in yourself to speak — you simply hold your wrist out towards him, revealing your full mark. 

Baron’s breath seems to leave his body, and everything falls silent and still until he slowly reaches up to trace his fingers along the lines of your mark. Then, in a sudden flurry of movement, he shoves the sleeve of his sweater up his arm and turns to stand beside you so he can reveal his as well, holding them side by side as though he can’t believe it. 

They’re identical.

You turn to look at him, unable to think of a single word to say, and Baron’s eyes sparkle with unshed tears as he pulls you into his arms. 

“I knew,” he says, though you aren’t sure if he’s speaking to himself or to you. “I always knew.” Just like that, you begin to cry, winding your arms tightly around him.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, and Baron is quick to pull back and look at you in concern, his hands not leaving you for a moment.

“Why are you apologizing?” He asks, and although his tone is light, teasing you for crying, you can see the anxiety in his eyes. It feels like sixteen all over again and you can’t help but sob harder.

“You were a-always so sure and I— I kept it f-from happening,” you lament. “All this t-time I’ve made you m-miserable and—” 

Baron presses his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up, before kissing away the tear stains on your cheeks before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Don’t apologize for something like that, silly,” he says, nuzzling your nose with his when you gently sniffle. “We have the rest of our lives to look forward to.”

You look into the eyes you’ve known almost your whole life, curved into a smile broader and brighter than any you think you’ve ever seen, and you wonder why you ever worried in the first place. After all, if Baron is by your side, what could go wrong?

(You realize later, and you can’t help but smile: reality truly lived up to all your youthful fantasies.)

[unetherealfeelings]

Mahanati: Savitri Garu/Amma

 Where do I start with this one? I don't have many words to describe this film, this remarkable biopic of a woman whose story baffled, awed and tore up audiences across states? A woman whose skills and personality was light years ahead of her time, a woman whose talent seemed boundless? A woman regarded so highly among the likes of famous actors ANR and NTR? A woman whose natural ability to perform turned out to be her greatest downfall? How does one begin to talk about the greatest actress of South India; Savitri Garu? 

 She may have died three decades ago, but her life is recreated this decade, where her story and love of acting is brought alive by Director Nag Ashwin, his talented crew and the brilliant star cast of Mahanati/ Nadigaiyar Thilagam.

Mahanati truly pays homage and is a delightful yet nostalgic tribute to the legendary actress Savitri. The film focuses on the tiniest details of her life, bringing forth her most endearing moments and unpleasant habits, it focuses on the hardships that shaped Savitri’s life; from her childhood to her last breathing moments. Her long-lived quest for the truth about her father, the need to put a face to the memories that she lent from the imaginations of her mother’s stories. Having no choice but to finally find a match to that description, first in the statue of the god (vighraham) near the temple, then in her uncle who accepts her as his daughter many years later.  Then. finally in  Gemini Ganesan when he takes her in and shows her the bond between a  father and child and how fathers build a child’s perception of the world around them. Perhaps that was what she liked most in him, the comfort and shelter a father provides his child from the evil in the world and the insightful wisdom that he imparts his child with. Mahanati leaves you with a sense of despair that such a tragedy could befall such a lovely human being, yet deep admiration for the way she lived her life; honour, love and humility till her last moments.

The direction and cinematography of Mahanati are phenomenal, the vision of Nag Ashwin’s story has bled into each and every frame and scene, each scene was handled with such delicacy and care. Since the story was set in the 1940s-1980s the appropriate camera filters were used, every time a flashback to Savitri’s childhood there would be a light orange/yellow hue, the camera styles used were also a nod to the golden era. With blurred out focus or vintage frames, they shaded the visuals in pastels hues. The scenery and the backdrop of the village Savitri called her home in her formative years were exceptionally beautiful, the sunset, the greenery and the still water all looked so flawless like as if they hadn't been touched by modern civilisation and its careless tendency to destroy nature. 

Moving on to the cast that makes up this beautiful film, Keerthy Suresh plays the titular character Savitri and oh boy does she pull it off. Her look, feel, the presence that she filled the frame with was awe-inspiring. I truly had no idea that she would be so lifelike and pronounced. After a while, you can even imagine her as Savitri alive and smiling in front of your eyes. Her Telugu accent is almost perfect and you can almost believe her talking like a native Telugu ammayi (girl). The grace that she oozes playing this character is so uncanny to the actress she portrays, even when you see her unravelling and falling from her prime,  she does it with grace. Although, I mean I still have some hesitation to completely fall in love with this film, due to the fact that an actual Native Telugu speaking actress could have done as good a job. Since this film does focus on Savitri"s life and the impression she had left on the Telugu states rather than Tamil Nadu.

And then there is Dulquer Salmaan, I honestly haven't expressed this enough, but Dulquer is trying a phenomenal actor and he really truly is not living under his father's shadow. I usually believe that actors that are introduced to the industry via their famous parents turn out either having no talent in acting or having shitty attitudes. Dulquer is neither o and you can clearly see from the effort he puts in each and every screen. He even went the extra mile to learn Telugu and that makes my heart so full. I'll be the first one to admit though his Telugu is not completely fluent and proficient, it does not need to be since Gemini Ganesan was a native Tamilian and so it is very natural for his speech to have a rough edge and be leaning slightly more towards a Tamil accent. However, even then Dulquer did a fantastic job, all of the walk, the arrogance that Gemini had, the smirk. The charming part he had it down pat. Even towards the end as his negative streak is laid bear you can clearly see the love and affection he had for Savitri who he perhaps shared the greatest love story with. The affectionate way he calls his beau "Ammadi", I'm pretty sure many in the audience swooned over. 

Coming to the rest of the cast and the crew, I genuinely believed everyone was truly natural and authentic. Samantha Akkineni and Vijay Devarakonda both are skilled and refined actors who agreed to take on smaller roles because they believed it was too great a story to not bring to the masses. Though their roles were small, they portrayed a curious and dedicated journalist and shy yet talented photographer Madhuravani and Vijay Antony smoothly.  Through the process of finding out the truth of Savitri find the strength to love and stand by each other. 

Not forgetting Rajendra Prasad who plays K.V Chowdary, Savitri's paternal uncle, he is so good in his role. it is where he really shines, playing a poor and frustrated yet ambitious uncle, forced to take in his wife's widowed sister and daughter. Unable to afford a living for all of them, he has to look for creative ways to earn a living and that is where his niece comes into play. He forces Savitri to learn dance which later evolves into performing theatre where Savitri hones her acting and where she first gets her big break. All of the cameos by the actors were really good, natural and lived in, like Naga Chaitanya as ANR, Shalini's Susheela, Prakash Raj as Aluri Chakrapani, Malavika Nair ad Alamelu, Mohan Babu as S.V Ranga Rao, Manobala as P. Pullaiah and so many more.

Encompassing this masterpiece are the incredible and soothing soundtracks by Mickey J. Meyer that showcase what may be Savitri’s most memorable and outstanding moments in her life. My personal favourites are Sada Nannu and Chivaraku Migiledi, the former for the beautiful and hopeful promises and made by one’s lover and the happy time spent with them. Chivaraku Migiledi because of the haunting way, the lyrics portray the end. Chivaraku Migeledi; “Whatever is left at the end” all that was and had been, reduced to tears and the lonely solace of addiction. It is here that we see and truly believe that the end is coming near, where the happiness and success that she once tasted are ripped away from her once again, at this point the audience truly see her at her worst, a shell of a woman she was, a girl yet again wrecked by the thunderous waves of her mistakes and her unfortunate fate. 

The truth really is that this film was a mere visual adaptation of what was one of our most famous actress’s life. Yes, there were some exaggerations and cinematic misrepresentations and maybe it may have defended Savitri’s actions a few times but at its core, it did a splendid job of narrating Savitri’s life. Her fans and audience may have known of her as a superstar and those who disliked may have seen her as a bad role model, a self-destructive human being or a homewrecker. This film, for the most part, showed her as a human being someone who was just like us, someone was only as flawed as we are human. Someone who tried her best to achieve better with the circumstances life gave her, she made multiple mistakes, took some decisions that ended up costing her career and later her life but it showed how vulnerable she was. A human being, someone who may have been considered as indestructible, incapable of empathy or emotions because she was famous and an actor. The film recounted how she lived her life, the way she wanted to and she lived it fully and loved with her whole being. She was a presence that demanded attention and though it has been more than 40 years since she passed, she's still known and acknowledged not just in industry but in the regions that she captivated with her eyes and voice. Life may have moved on normally since she left this world, but thanks to the talented minds behind Mahanati, there will be a remembrance of an enchanting and extraordinary woman who shook the South Indian Film Industries with her acting. May she live forever in the hearts of the people she etched her unique mark on. Rest in peace, Ma’am you can finally breathe now. 

[ranwing]

Rent Live on Fox: A Review

Many of my followers and readers of my stories know that I’m something of a musical theater buff, and I hold a lot of affection for the show “Rent”. This was a musical about my generation - the one coming of age in the era of AIDS. Where the east Village was gritty and filled with creative artistic types (before it was taken over by chain stores and rents - no pun intended - skyrocketed). When I was of an age with the characters, there was something intriguing and romantic about living for art and not worrying about what the next day might bring. So needless to say, the prospect of seeing Rent performed again was going to be a nice trip down memory lane.

Like all live productions, there were good things, bad elements and things that made me wonder what the production team was thinking about. To start off with, I’m not worried about the fact that the show did not air “live” due to the injury of one of the lead actors. In fact, I would have preferred better, smarter editing because I had some serious issues with the staging. But more on that in a bit.

Casting: For the most part, I found the casting of the show... adequate. There were a few performers that really blew me away but mostly I was struck at how generic most of the players were. I’m a firm believer that musical shows like this are best served with musical theater actors who can balance singing and acting. Too often, performers are chosen by name recognition and the show suffers as a result. Rent was no different.

First, there were some really outstanding performers. I adored Tinashe, who brought the right balance of sultriness and vulnerability that I want to see in Mimi. Her rendition of Take Me Out was amazing and she managed to overcome the annoying frenetic camera angles (more on that later). Another standout was  Kiersey Clemons as Joanne, who was able to bring appropriate gravitas to the “straight” woman of the Joanne/Maureen pairing. Brandon Victor Dixon’s experience as a Broadway actor showed and he gave Tom Collins depth and charm.

And I was really delighted to see  Keala Settle as the leader of the Life Support meeting. She’s always a joy to watch. Most of the background performers were excellent and I think that the show did a good job filling out the supporting cast with talented singers and actors.

Of the other leads, I was less in love. Vanessa Hudgens had some enjoyable moments as Maureen, but I sometimes found her too frenetic and superficial. There were times when she was grinning that just felt... off. Brennin Hunt looked the part of Roger, but his vocals sounded thin at times. And while I think that  Jordan Fisher is exceptionally talented, I feel that he was miscast as Mark. I understand that the show did want to have as diverse a cast as possible, but he was a poor fit for a geeky Jewish boy from Scarsdale. Valentina had moments where she really shone as Angel, but there were also moments when she struggled with the music.  So the casting and acting was a mixed bag for me.

Production: When I first heard that FOX would be airing Rent, I’m going to admit that my heart sank because I had no clue how they were going to air a show like this without totally butchering it (the way Rocky Horror was). The show is filled with profanity, frank discussions about sex and relationships (including one song that is all about fucking). But unlike the ill-fated attempt to bring Rocky Horror to the screen, I ended up being pleasantly surprised that a lot of the show was left more or less unedited. Yes, the cursing was cut out (and not always adeptly) but the song about fucking was left intact (Contact). The lesbian and gay relationships were highlighted and the actors were able to show kissing and physical affection between their characters (including Maureen bouncing on her’s and Joanne’s bed during Take Me or Leave Me). Angel’s gender fluidity wasn’t whitewashed away, and all of the drug references seem to have made it through the editing phase.

That’s not to say that there weren’t edits that left me annoyed. During La Vie Boheme, there were edits made clearly to reduce run time that I felt affected the flow of the number and made no sense. And while they characters could sing about “mucho masturbation” and S&M, the word dildo had to be changed for some silly reason. But for the most part, they got a lot of the original musical in, which made me quite happy.

Explaining the setting of the show (including the impact of the AIDS crisis to viewers who might be too young to understand) and the tribute to Larson at the end was well done and gave the show a frame in history from which to operate. The New York of Rent has changed dramatically since, but this show provides an interesting window on that brief period of our history. And bringing back the original cast from the Broadway production (who I got to see perform several times back in the day) made sitting through the whole show worth while.

Staging: This was an issue that I had a love/hate relationship with. Sometimes the staging was great, and other times it just looked too random. Like they had all this scaffolding, so actors had to run about it as much as possible. I think that the show could have done a better job in setting up actual sets within the scaffolding to create the different settings (Mark’s and Roger’s loft, the Life Cafe, etc). They had the luxury of all that space and didn’t seem to utilize it in a way that was effective. We got the impression of settings rather than actual settings in a lot of cases.

And I had issues with how the show interacted with the studio audience. Too often it seemed that the audience was getting in the way of the production. There were times when it was difficult to hear the singers, and I could have done without the pointless body surfing done during What You Own. 

So all it all, it wasn’t a bad production for the most part. I enjoyed it and have it saved on my DVR so I can watch it again later. I think that the weaknesses of the show don’t detract from my generally being able to enjoy it. Of all the musicals done on television, this is probably one of the better efforts (along with Jesus Christ Superstar last season). I’m looking forward to seeing what happens with Hair (which is airing on NBC in May 2019) and hope that maybe one day we’ll get to see a show aired in its entirety. Too many people don’t have the luxury of seeing live theater and this is a wonderful way to give them a small taste of what going to a Broadway show can entail. Rent wasn’t perfect, but it did a decent job given the limitations of the medium.

[restlessmaknae]

Those damn smirks

Part III of my series called That damn thing we call love.

Part 1 :: Those damn boots :: Boy meets that damn thing we call love.

Part 2 :: Those damn lies :: Boy meets that damn thing we call heartbreak.

Part 3 :: Those damn smirks ::  Boy meets that damn thing we call second chance.

Part 4 :: Those damn words ::  Boy meets that damn thing we call confession.

Genre: fluff, comedy, slice of life, a bit of angst

Setting: high school!AU

Words: 10.6k

Main Characters: Jeon Jungkook x OC

It was an exceptionally beautiful August with the sound of cheerful birds singing on top of trees and golden rays of sunshine painting the mackerel sky.

As far as Korean students were concerned, the school year had already started despite the beautiful weather and the effort to spend outside as much time as they could. Miyeon was also pouting sadly, looking up at the picturesque sky dotted with tiny cirrocumulus clouds while listening to Taeyeon’s enthusiastic chattering about her attempt to taste the well-known Peking duck.

They were walking side by side after taking the same bus, recalling those good old days before Taeyeon had left to China. Now, her student exchange program had come to an end and she was back again to start the new school year with Miyeon. Well, with one little twist; she was attending the junior’s classes because her mother insisted on repeating the grade as her Chinese trip was just a once in a lifetime cultural experience and not an educational course. As a result, they weren’t in the same year, so Miyeon would have to take the CSAT one year earlier than her best friend.

“Believe me, that guy is seriously way too gentle to be real,” her best friend stated with awe and shifted her attention to the girl walking beside her. Taeyeon suspiciously raised an eyebrow in question, making her doubt clear. Miyeon blushed ashamedly as she realized that she was totally lost in thought and tried to puzzle up the words she had said. “You have no idea who I was talking about,” she went on and her lips slowly curved into a teasing smile. Her chocolate brown eyes were filled with playfulness and sparkled like two little diamonds. That was what she had missed the most; when she was way too happy and couldn’t suppress her beautiful, angel-like smile. That girl was seriously too beaming to live in this degenerate world.

“Well, not really,” Miyeon admitted, nibbling her lips and cautiously shot her a timid smile. Taeyeon couldn’t hold herself back anymore, she immediately burst into laughter.

“Alright, I was talking about Mark, our new exchange student, but who cares about him when your favourite boy is coming just our way,” she started in a mocking tone which immediately turned into the typical ‘I exactly know what’s going on’ Taeyeon tone. She nudged her and pointed to a bunch of boys who were walking towards the school’s entrance door. They were chattering loudly and joyfully, sometimes bumped their fists together or slightly hustled each other but totally ignored everyone around them, they were just having fun.

Unfortunately, Taeyeon chose time moment to leave her alone because she noticed Byun Baekhyun pushing the entrance door and hastily ran after him. She watched as her silhouette faded away and let out a heavy sigh. She knew that there was a lot for the two to talk about but she really had to disappear at such an unfortunate timing?

She understood her because the couple had lots of quarrels regarding Taeyeon’s student exchange program which she signed before she got closer to him. Yet, they still got together and she still insisted on going to China. They had a serious fight on the day of her departure and didn’t even talk until she got back a week ago. Now, everything was a little bit awkward and confusing for them but it was obvious that they still liked each other. Plus, they had a lot of time to puzzle out their feelings and spend more time together as they were classmates from that year because lucky Byun Baekhyun was one year younger than her. Not to mention that he was one of Chanyeol’s best friends.

Marching on alone, the encounter was inevitable. It must have been fate but Miyeon and the squad reached the entrance door at the same time, thus they had to decide who would go first. It was a little bit embarrassing as the boys’ conversation suddenly stopped and it was followed by an awkward pause. Miyeon caught sight of the subtly smiling Jungkook and felt her face turning red. He got even more attractive during the summer break and looked manlier than ever. Nonetheless, when he shot his typical bunny smile and his cute cheekbones exploded, he was the same old Jungkook who she was so fond of. Not that she didn’t like him waggling his eyebrows or giving a smug smirk directed at her but she fell in love with that innocent-looking Jungkook who looked at her so dearly when they spent their birthday together a year ago.

“Miyeon-ah, so good to see you!” exclaimed Taehyung, grinning from ear to ear and subconsciously hugged her. It was a rather clumsy but affectionate hug but she was so startled to get such a warm welcoming that she could hardly speak.

“Good to see you, too, Taehyung,” she patted his back and waited for him to let her go. She noticed Jungkook gulping a little bit too edgily but shook off the thought right away.

“Please, Taehyung, just let her go unless you don’t want this poor girl to suffocate!” Hoseok joined in, rolling his eyes in disbelief but one of his trademark grins was forming on his lips. He looked exactly the same with his obsidian-black, slightly curly hair, smiling eyes and sloppy jeans. He was still good-looking but couldn’t defeat Seokjin who had probably got a new haircut because his hair looked a little bit shorter and it was just as neatly-cut as he had come from the hairdresser’s.

It came as no surprise that Yoongi now changed his hair colour from bleached blonde to mysterious grey but it actually suited him. Jimin was no longer the redhead but opt for the natural look with fluffy, brown curls which actually looked better than anything else before. There was no change in Namjoon’s hair colour or behaviour, he kindly waved at her direction but cautiously glanced at Taehyung who finally let her go.

Lastly, she couldn’t forget about the seventh boy who was coyly smiling at her, his jet-black eyes shining like attractive black little holes while his intense stare seemed to pierce into her soul. Oh boy, was he even aware of the fact that he was so appealing that it was almost illegal? He was like an addiction, a drug or the most dangerous sickness of all times; as you were spending time with him, you impulsively wanted more and more.

“It’s been such a long time since we last saw you,” Jimin ran his hand through his chocolate brown hair while the others nodded in agreement. “What have you been up to?” he asked and the curiosity in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone else also stared at her with their eyes wide open and shining with fondness. Miyeon couldn’t help but peeked a bit at Jungkook’s direction but immediately turned her face away when he shot her one of his typical smirks. That boy was unbelievable!

“Nothing much,” she shrugged but continued, noticing the boys’ disappointed glances. “Visiting my grandparents, reading a lot of mangas, watching animes and finishing an English course.”

“An English course?” Namjoon raised one of his eyebrows in question but after her confident nod, he flinched appreciatively. Hoseok was clapping heartily, Seokjin shook his head saying that she was way too good at everything, Jimin and Taehyung were grinning proudly as if they had finished the course themselves while Jungkook started at her open-mouthed. She wouldn’t think that it would be a jaw-dropping mark but for him, it seemed that it was.

“Maybe you should teach Jungkookie,” Taehyung blurted out with his totally innocent look which resulted in the golden maknae’s irritated grumble. The eldest immediately comforted him by saying:

“He’s not that bad.”

“I remember vividly that the first English sentence which I’ve heard from him was ‘I like you,’” Namjoon recalled the memory with a playful twinkle in his pitch-black eyes while the other guy’s cheeks suddenly flushed. He looked so embarrassed, exactly the opposite of the way too charming guy during dance practices. Miyeon giggled a bit but tried hard not to show her huge grin. She was having so much fun.

“Omo, what a cheeky boy!” Hoseok said, patting the youngest guy’s back and cheerfully guffawed. She looked at this almost ordinary situation and wondered how precious these guys were. They could never get offended at whatever the others said and even comforted each other during hardships. She almost forgot how much she liked the boys but whenever she almost did, they always showed up and reminded her that the feeling in her heart was still steady.

“I’m sure you’ll nail the CSAT,” Yoongi added rubbing his chin and suppressed a yawn. She felt delightful from the thought of him not even changing a bit because she liked the way he was. After his reassuring statement on the haters’ issue, she respected the boy even more and considered him as someone who she would go if she needed a piece of advice.

“Nah, don’t mention it on the first day of school, please,” she pouted sadly, thinking of the exams which felt closer than ever but still a little bit further at the same time. She always got goose bumps when she realised that it was her senior year. The last year with the class, the last year in high school and the last year with the boys. The last year with Jungkook.

“How about you? What’s up with you, guys?” she made an attempt to change the subject because she got nervous all of a sudden. However, the squad didn’t seem to mind her request and started sharing their stories about visiting relatives in Busan, trying out a new kimchi recipe, building a bird house, writing some poems which were published in a magazine or even making new choreographies. The golden maknae was characteristically quiet but proudly smiled at all his friends’ achievements.

Suddenly, someone cleared his throat and it turned out to be Jackson Wang who wanted to get to the entrance door but they were in the way. Of course, he teased them a bit as they bowed ashamedly and decided to continue chatting in the hallways but didn’t take the situation too seriously as he wasn’t that kind of guy. He even joined in and she soon found out that he was actually a quite talkative person.

“You guys are performing on the dance festival, right?” Jackson raised his eyebrows while looking mostly at Jungkook, Hoseok and Jimin. Miyeon knew that the three boys were at the same dance association, in the same team but never really saw them performing on a festival. She recalled the memories when the golden maknae let her watch some of their practices and made her even more speechless. That guy was exceptionally talented, small wonder why he wanted to be a dance teacher. He was a totally different person while dancing but she couldn’t mind it. He was charismatic, charming and undeniably sexy. Miyeon was surprised to see the change in his behaviour after coming up to her with his usual bunny smile and giving her a sweaty hug.

She shook her head to get away from the memory because now looking at him, it stung right at her heart. She had the chance to be her girlfriend but she was a coward and let him go. She didn’t deserve him but he still acted so affectionately!

“Yeah,” Hoseok responded with his joyful grin. “It’ll be our last performance, though. You know, before the exams,” he added with a little whimper and let out a weak sigh. Jungkook was staring far ahead, probably lost in thought and averted his eyes elsewhere but the others’ face.

“I can’t wait for it. I’m sure you’ll kill it!” Jackson threw his hands in the air in an excited manner which made the boys either bashfully smile or smugly grin.

“It would be hard to do better than you guys,” Jimin complimented immediately, making the blonde guy almost blush before he waved the idea away. Miyeon looked at them, totally confused and helplessly glanced at Jimin who was considerate enough to explain the whole situation. “Jackson and Jinyoung are also at the same association with us but in a different team. And these guys also have some killer moves, so we should practice harder in order not to get ashamed of our own performances.”

“Hmm,” that was all she could master, shifting her attention to the cheerfully giggling blonde one who she knew from school but never imagined that he would be capable of dancing. However, she believed Jimin and accepted the fact that he was pretty good.

“You know what?” Hoseok suddenly clapped his hands in excitement and made poor Kookie bounce in caution. Miyeon couldn’t suppress her chuckle, seeing the boy’s cute reaction. “If you have some free time, you can come and watch our performance. I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” he announced enthusiastically which immediately caused a huge combustion within the boys. They were all in favour of his idea and showed their approval of the plan, even Jackson assumed that she should come and see them. Miyeon listened to them, her heart thumping in bewilderment imagining the boys – and especially Jungkook – on stage, performing one of their incredible choreographies.

Nonetheless, she still cautiously waited for the golden maknae’s reaction who caught her staring at him and his lips slowly curved into a smile. His jet-black eyes were sparkling with beautiful blossoming flowers and shiny shooting stars. He nodded in agreement and although it was just a small sign, it was undeniably a small sign of love.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” she exclaimed happily, making a mental note to herself to remember not to make any plans for the 27th of August when the performance would take place. The boys shared all the details and she couldn’t help but smiled like an idiot. Was it a chance for her to make things right? Or it was just a friendly invitation?

Whatever the case might be, she was sure that she would do anything to attend that festival.

 ▌▌

 The following weeks flew by so quickly. She only realized that the dance festival’s day had come when she was staring at her figure in the mirror while trying out different outfits. As she was rummaging the clothes in her wardrobe, flashbacks and thoughts were scrambling in her head.

August was exceptionally quiet and peaceful as nothing extraordinary had happened. Her heart was finally at peace, knowing that her best friend made up with Baekhyun and was happier than ever. Plus, the squad slowly started acting just as naturally as they did before their break-up and it came as no surprise that they got along pretty well. She wouldn’t let herself believe that she deserves to be happy and surrounded by friends who would keep her company but they were good friends. Sometimes, they even accompanied her and Taeyeon at lunchtime, always making the other girl hysterically laugh who was getting used to the boys’ presence. Well, his boyfriend wasn’t happy about that but they spent pretty much every single second together, so lunchtime was only for the girls. And sometimes the squad’s, too but Taeyeon admitted that she didn’t mind having them around. She even acknowledged that it was impossible not to love them and suspiciously glanced at her, whenever Jungkook was around. She knew her well, so Miyeon didn’t even have to tell her everything; she had already become her relationship consultant.

“Ah, you two are so dense!” her best friend rolled her eyes in annoyance one time, after she saw her waving at the golden maknae’s direction who immediately gave her one of his cutest sheepish smiles. “You still love him and he obviously still loves you! I don’t see what the problem is!” she flung her arms in the air, childishly whining. Even though Taeyeon was in her shoes not too long ago, she acted like a real expert now. Miyeon just nudged her and let out a sorrowful sigh as she continued.

“I don’t want to hurt him, okay? I’ve already broken his heart once, I don’t want to cause more pain,” she nodded her head in great disapproval and tried to shift her attention to the floor of the school’s hallway and not her best friend’s face. She would easily read her and she didn’t want that. Both of them already knew that it hurt like hell to say things like that but this is how things worked for couples who broke up. They still carried their wounds and even if their own scars healed, they weren’t sure about the other party’s condition.

“And what’s with his confession?”

“What confession?” she blinked innocently, although there was one particular conversation which she couldn’t forget so easily. His words were still as soft as a fluffy blanket and covered her with their fondness and warmed her heart. She got goose bumps, every single time the flashback popped up in her mind and couldn’t shake off that hopeful thought that maybe, just maybe it might have meant something.

“Even stars lose their ways sometimes,” Taeyeon quoted with her sweet tone and it sounded so different this time. “So poetic, by the way.” she mumbled to herself, examining her nails, probably thinking how that Byun Baekhyun guy had never said such a thing.

“That was a long time ago,” she resisted, still trying to persuade herself that he probably didn’t mean it that way. It could have been a reassuring comment of a friend, he didn’t mention anything about love or ex-girlfriends.

“Alright, maybe,” she rolled her eyes in frustration and ran a hand through her blondish curls.  “But if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t invite you to the dance festival.”

“He didn’t invite me,” she added, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her right ear. She didn’t intend to be rude but wanted to make everything perfectly clear. Hoseok was the one who came up with the idea of her attending the festival and she was more than happy to give in. “One of his friends did.”

“But he didn’t protest,” Taeyeon pointed out and she knew that there was no point in disagreeing; she obviously lost the battle. She couldn’t deny that she was absolutely right. Jeon Jungkook wasn’t a toddler anymore; if he didn’t want her to be there, he would have said it. Yet, he didn’t.

Suddenly, there was a determinate knock on the door which made her bounce in surprise. As she was walking towards to open it, she made an attempt to snap out of her thoughts.

“Hey!” yelled Chanyeol with a joyful grin as she finally discovered who the owner of the knock was. “Have you seen my sketchbook? I literally can’t find it anywhere!” he tried to glance into her room and when she looked at her again, his eyes rounded and he let out a surprised squeal. “Oh, wow, where are you going? That dress isn’t something that you usually wear,” he commented, examining her from head to toe which made her blush so deep. He didn’t want to bump into her brother around the time of the festival because she didn’t want to explain the whole story. Why was she even going? Because her friends were there? Or it was all because of Jungkook? Well, she wasn’t even sure about her feelings, so she didn’t want to get tangled up in weird conversations.

“I’m going to a dance festival,” Miyeon answered after she had realised that there was no point in lying to him. His little brother just curiously raised his eyebrows in response and couldn’t suppress his teasing smile when he next started speaking.

“You’re going to see Jungkook, right?” he waggled his eyebrows and didn’t even budge when she slightly hit his shoulder, rather offended.

“I can wear dresses like that even if I don’t meet up with a boy,” she sniffed and gave him a frowning look. He couldn’t mope over her little act as he was having so much fun, seeing her Noona’s reaction out of defence. She was way too obvious.

“Hmm, I see what’s going on,” he rubbed his chin and acted like a total know-it-all. “He’s trying to get you back,” he cooed eagerly while twirling her around for a closer look. She was wearing a pretty, white dress with laces which was once a Christmas present from her granny but she never actually tried it on. Miyeon didn’t even think that there would be an occasion when she would wear it but this dress was the one that caught her attention while she was rummaging in her wardrobe.

“No!” she squealed huffily and shook her head in disagreement. From Chanyeol’s point of view, it was acceptable that he misunderstood the whole situation as he didn’t know that Hoseok was the one who invited her. He wasn’t the only one, though, who acted like that. Everyone seemed to misinterpret their case, even Taeyeon insisted that Jungkook wanted to get her back. Not like she would mind it but instead, she decided to wave the idea away. Why would he even do such a thing? “So, you say that it’s a bit too much?” she asked curiously, looking down at her dress and then up at his little brother. Oh, how she wished that she could wipe off that small smirk on his face.

“No, no, not at all,” he raised his arms in defeat and gave her an affectionate smile when he continued. “You look beautiful, Noona,” he stated in his usual, loving little brother tone and playfully ruffled her hair. His compliment made her heart leap and couldn’t even suppress the smile that crept onto her face. “Should I be worried?” he raised one of his eyebrows in question but her instincts told her that he didn’t even take his own question seriously. “Someone might attack you on the way to the dance festival, you know. Nowadays, there are several creepy freaks on the streets.”

“I can take care of myself,” she stated mildly and her confident response set him at ease. His shoulders loosened and his lips slowly raised into a grin. Miyeon suddenly pinched his cheeks, simply out of amusement but he didn’t seem to mind it. He just laughed at her while his warm, caramel-brown eyes formed happy, little crescents.

“Take care.”

“I will,” she nodded joyfully and waved at the boy who decided to go back to his own room.

Miyeon closed the door while her mind seemed to dwell on those sorrowful months when things were terrifyingly different. When Chanyeol wasn’t her lovely, little brother but almost a stranger who she couldn’t reach out to. Luckily, those weeks didn’t last forever as Baekhyun convinced Chanyeol that Dara was lying and Miyeon was right. He eavesdropped when Dara was once messing with her, blurting out that she didn’t even love the guy, she only needed him to hurt her. It was not until the weekend – the same weekend when Jungkook stayed in her house while Chanyeol was with his buddies – when the beagle line played “Truth or dare” that everything was revealed. After that, as soon as his little brother frantically got home, he bowed ashamedly and asked for her forgiveness. She was so startled that she couldn’t even say a thing. Instead, she let him embrace her while listening to his whispered sorrys.

That day changed everything and the two started acting like nothing had happened. After that weekend, Chanyeol even made a scene with Dara and told her off for lying. She didn’t see him being so furious for the time being but silently gloated at her victory. His brother’s movement resulted in the tranquillity of the following days and weeks. There was no more bullying, no more scoffing and no more rumours. Nothing.

Nonetheless, she wasn’t brave enough to consider making up with Jungkook. Not then, not when her scars hadn’t healed yet. But now, starting the new school year, boosting her self-esteem during the summer break, she knew that the time had come. She was pretty brave, or at least brave enough to give it a try.

 ▌▌

 Everyone was buzzing around the stage of the Big Hit Dance Studio’s Autumn Dance Festival which was held outdoors. She excitedly bounced as she arrived but started to dread the sight of the huge crowd and tried to peek over people’s shoulders. She was craving for a familiar face and pouted sadly when she realised that it was almost a dead case. There were so many people, she suddenly felt so small and elegantly dressed compared to the hip-hop lover spectators who wore shabby trousers and colourful T-shirts.

All of a sudden, she felt a slight pat on her shoulder and when she turned her heel, she saw a familiar face, standing right in front of her.

“Oh, Seokjin, thank God!” she let out a relieved sigh and her face slowly dissolved into a half-smile. The handsome guy looked puzzled for a moment, not knowing why she was so grateful that he showed up but then, he gave one of his cutest proud grins.

“I know, right? Every single day, I thank God for my handsomeness−“ he started smugly but was cut off by an excited scream.

“You came!” Taehyung exclaimed, slightly shoving the elder guy who rolled his eyes but not in annoyance. Soon, Namjoon and Yoongi showed up behind the childishly giggling Taehyung who insisted that he had noticed her from several hundred meters and ran to welcome her as soon as possible. The other two guys were walking in their usual pace but got there on time when they started discussing Miyeon’s dress.

“You look pretty.”

“You’re literally stunning,” Taehyung joined in after Seokjin’s compliment that both made her face turn scarlet-red. She wasn’t used to such nice words because she was either wearing her school uniform or a pair of trousers with a nice T-shirt. The boys rarely see her without the uniform, small wonder why they were so dumbfounded.

“I hope Jungkookie won’t faint when he sees you,” Namjoon added, his eyes hinting at his amusement. She felt her cheeks flushing and her heart beating in bewilderment. Although she forced herself not to think of it, she blushed deeply at the thought of Jungkook seeing her like that. A weird kind of confidence had taken hold of her as she was wearing the pretty, white dress, knowing that the guys approved of her outfit. On the contrary, she almost regretted opting for a dress over an aesthetic blouse with jeans because it was quite windy and she would definitely have to stand there for a few more hours. It was already the end of August, a lovely Saturday afternoon and the dance festival was perfect for that day but maybe not for her outfit.

“When will they perform?” Miyeon inquired, her chocolate-brown eyes shining with curiosity.

“They’ll be the last to perform,” Yoongi responded with a bored yawn and averted his eyes to the stage where staff members had already started fidgeting. She let out a frustrated whine because she was on the edge; she wanted to see the boys’ performance as soon as possible. But that was her luck. Of course, they would be the last.

“Ah, I feel you,” Taehyung caught her disappointed flinch and patted her shoulder sympathetically. “I’m so excited to see what they’re coming up with. And honestly, I can’t wait to tease them if they make a mistake,” he added, mischievously waggling his eyebrows. Namjoon gave him a frowning look, Seokjin mildly smiled at his childish threat and Yoongi shook his head like he knew him too well and was totally aware of the fact that he wouldn’t do so.

“May I have your attention, please?” a husky, confident voice filled the air which resulted in the audience’s excited buzzing. Miyeon turned around to face the stage where a middle-aged man held a microphone with a stern look displaying on his face. As he started talking again, it turned out that he was Bang Si Hyuk, the founder of the Big Hit Dance Studios.

After his greeting, the dance festival officially started. The next one hour was filled with constant surprises and gummy hustle-bustle. She saw several jaw-dropping performances and didn’t even make an attempt to hide her awe. The dancers’ moves were always on point, so precise yet so passionate. They were beautifully elegant and mysteriously attractive at the same time. Everyone was exceptionally talented but she couldn’t shake off that lingering feeling as she only wished to see one particular performance. Her heart always missed a beat whenever the MC announced who would come next and felt a bitter kind of disappointment when he didn’t say the guys’ names.

Luckily, although she could barely notice one or two familiar faces on the stage, Taehyung and Seokjin always mentioned who was giving a performance.

“That guy is a genius. His name is Kwon Soonyoung and he dances so well. He’s like the leader of their hip-hop group but the others are also pretty good.”

“NCT is already the girls’ favourite, even though it’s their second festival so far.”

“Now, that is a killer combination. A roundoff backhandspring! Yah, Jackson knows how to do a good show.”

They were constantly talking without a pause and she tried to remember the names and groups and feedbacks but got lost after a few. So instead, she decided to let them talk and a genuine but ‘I don’t even know what’s happening here’ smile was evident on her face. Taehyung was in the middle of giving a summary about Jongin’s dance skills when the MC appeared on stage and announced the festival’s last performance. Miyeon felt her cheekbones exploding and her heart thumping, beating like a drum. Pleasant kind of chills ran down her spine, giving every of her cells a huge overdose of excitement.

Suddenly, the stage went dark and the spotlight was only shining on one person: Park Jimin. He was in an impressive, white shirt and showed his contemporary side through soft and precise moves. The song was a beautiful, slow melody with piano instrumental, small wonder why she got goose bumps right away. It was so enjoyable to just look at him but she couldn’t deny that she wanted to see someone else. After Jimin dropped to the floor and got up again, Hoseok and Jungkook also walked onto the stage and a funky, playful jazz song started playing. It was Hoseok’s turn to show what he was capable of and gosh, that guy was totally amazing! He danced so naturally and moved while grinning from ear to ear. Then, as expected, Jungkook came next and she realised only then that he was wearing a white suit with a white shirt and a black tie. He looked so damn attractive, she was the one who nearly fainted. She eyed him top to bottom, examining him as he enjoyed his stage. Without doubt, he was a completely different person while dancing than in real life. Just like any other times when she peeked his practices, he was so manly, confident and totally immersed into the moves, ignoring everything else around him.

If she thought that the first part of their performance almost gave her a heart attack, she could voluntarily die during the next one. She immediately knew the familiar song because whose mother wasn’t into Shinhwa and chanted Perfect Man while cleaning up? But the three guys in those outfits and their cheeky moves took the song to a whole new level. The stage was on fire, the guys were dancing like professionals while the audience seemed to lose their minds; all girls around her were screaming so loudly, especially when Jimin got off his jacket. Maybe Jungkook should have done the same, Miyeon thought crossly but blushed deeply after realising what she had wished for. She couldn’t take her eyes off the boy but gulped innocently whenever he made an intimidating move. Not to mention those damn smirks! He wasn’t even aware of the fact that his damn smirks could do such odd things to the state of her heart; they weren’t only resulted in her crazily racing heartbeat but also gave her goose bumps. Oh boy, she was out of words. She unconsciously fell for him. Again.

As the performance came to an end and the boys bowed to each side of the audience, Miyeon joined the claps and the screams. She was so proud of them, they put on a wonderful show, she couldn’t even describe how brilliant they were. They didn’t even make a mistake, they were in perfect harmony and totally nailed the festival.

“Well, I didn’t expect less,” Yoongi cleared his throat beside her and his sudden confession made her bounce a little. She was so immersed into the dance and the combustion around it that she wasn’t prepared for starting a conversation.

“Ah, these kids can really dance,” Seokjin added vigorously and smiled like a proud daddy. His reactions were always fun to watch as he couldn’t hide his amazement and during the last two hours, his jaw dropped several times. He also shared with her that he gave up dancing after a few attempts, so he absolutely respected the guys for trying so hard to do their best. Maybe he wasn’t a good dancer but he was incredibly supportive; he was almost like their number fan. Seokjin was the one who brought his home-cooked meals to the boys after training sessions or bought them dinner.

“Guys, I’ve got the password!” announced Taehyung excitedly and looked up from his phone. Miyeon looked puzzled but Namjoon explained that they had to come up with a password to pass by the guards and go backstage to meet the boys.

“What is it this time?” Yoongi asked knitting his eyebrows in question and looked at the younger boy who grinned so proudly, it was almost guilty.

“Infires, man!” he answered smugly and the response was sudden. Everyone burst into laughter while she just slightly chuckled at the boys’ reaction. On their way to the backstage area, Seokjin was considerate enough to tell her the whole story about the saying ‘Infires, man!’. It was a tiny mistake that Yoongi made while doing an English listening task in class when he misheard the word inspires as infires but the boys were more than pleased with using it as a teasing.

Miyeon was laughing uncontrollably because after this flashback, Taehyung and Namjoon decided to have a fierce battle of sharing the most embarrassing story regarding the seven friends. They were in the middle of analysing the failure of Kim Seokjin’s beatbox lesson when an over-excited figure literally jumped in front of her.

“We were amazing, right?” Hoseok yelled, waggling his eyebrows and soon, his two dance partners showed up as well. They were all still sweating but changed into a more comfortable and natural outfit, Jungkook for example was wearing grey sweatpants with a white T-shirt and his favourite dark-blue jumper. Still, Miyeon felt like she could faint anytime soon.

“Yeah, of course, of course. I’m proud of you, guys!” Yoongi started the compliments which went on and on and she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to congratulate the guys on such a sensational performance, so she also accentuated her opinion.

“You were amazing! No doubt that you were the best of all the participants. You were unique and brilliant and your moves were always on point. It would have been a shame if I had missed it. So, thank you so much for inviting me, it was the greatest dance festival which I’ve ever attended.”

“Thank you for coming!” Jimin grinned seeing the girl’s enthusiastic chattering but she wasn’t in the mood for holding herself back. There were so many emotions rushing through her body and so many thoughts on her mind that she just wanted to share them as soon as possible. “You look lovely, by the way.”

“Yeah, I agree. You are undeniably the highlight of the festival,” Hoseok ran a hand through his obsidian-black, slightly sweaty hair and gave her a big, bright smile. Miyeon wasn’t good at getting compliments and immediately blushed in embarrassment. The guys also noticed the change in her behaviour but nudged Jungkook to say something to her. As far as he was concerned, he looked so dumbfounded, his lips slightly parted and he stared at her for a few seconds. His jet-black eyes were playing tricky little games with her vision; once she saw them shining with insecurity and other times she thought that they were just cute, little clouds hovering on the mackerel sky; so pure, innocent and calm.

“Uhmm, well, thanks,” he cleared his throat, obviously responding to her fangirling and that made her slightly disappointed. She was a girl, she was craving for the boy’s compliment who she had a crush on and when she didn’t get what she had expected, she couldn’t help but huffed lightly.

“Oh, come on! You dance like that on stage and still can’t say some nice words to a girl?” Hoseok whined in a high-pitched tone and gave him a ‘Don’t you dare to do this with me’ look. Seokjin patted the energetic guy’s shoulder and clapped his hands to make sure others shift their attentions to him.

“Don’t embarrass him, Hobie,” he warned the dancer, knitting his eyebrows but when he next continued, he was affectionate and proper just as expected from Kim Seokjin. “We have more important things to do. Get your stuff and we’ll go a restaurant to celebrate your amazing performance! The bill’s on me, guys!” he promised while a kind smile was forming on his lips. The boys started cheering almost wildly and it didn’t even take too long to get all the seven guys together to head to their favourite restaurant. Miyeon was also invited to the celebratory dinner but she was quite reluctant at first. She only gave in when Jungkook stated that she can’t miss it and gave an attractive smirk directed at her.

 ▌▌

 They ended up having dinner in a cosy, little restaurant which she had never been before but the boys insisted that they should go there as it was their favourite place to eat. As soon as they arrived, the squad swiftly sat down around a random table, so in the end, she had no other option than to plunk herself down beside the one and only Jeon Jungkook. She was aware of the fact that it wasn’t fate, it was obviously on purpose; the guys were definitely up to something.

Luckily, waiting for their food to arrive wasn’t boring at all. What is more, Miyeon laughed so much that she had already forgotten that she was as hungry as a wolf. The seven boys didn’t intend to stop broaching more hilarious and more remarkable moments of their friendship and the more stories she heard, the more she realised that they were such adorable human beings. They were lovely even one by one but when they were together and casually enjoyed themselves, it was the best. She felt a pleasant kind of warmth hanging around her the whole time; it seemed that the boys’ joy and high spirits were so gummy that she also couldn’t stop smiling. She wanted to get lost in that feeling, she wanted it to last forever.

Being with the boys made her realise how much she had missed these moments: the fun conversations, the loud laughs, the little bickering and the cheerful giggling. Her anxiousness which she felt in the beginning flew away so quickly, thanks to the squad’s amicable attitude. Not to mention that they were such gentlemen; when she pulled out her wallet to pay back the money which Seokjin paid for the food, he shook his head violently.

“No, no, no, no!” he emphasised every single ‘no’, it was almost like an overreacted feedback of a restless fangirl. “Do I look like someone who would make you pay for the food? Oh no, Miyeon-ah, I’m not that kind of guy.”

“No, he’s not that kind of guy,” Taehyung imitated Seokjin’s reaction which lead to another round of laughter. Even the latter guy slightly chuckled and ruffled the younger one’s hair in amusement.

“Just let him pay it!” Namjoon motioned with a dimpled smile. “Or else, we’ll have to listen to his whining all weekend!”

“Okay. Thank you for the food, then!” she gave in, putting her wallet back into her bag. Seokjin let out a relieved sigh and finally paid the bill, a total amount of 78.000₩.

„That’s a lot of money.”

„Well, kids eat a lot,” the mommy figure elucidated naturally but the others weren’t safely out of hearing range, so they heard it, too. Yoongi simply suppressed another yawn, Namjoon nodded in agreement, Hoseok grinned brightly as always but the maknae line was actually kind of offended. Jimin sulked over it by wrinkling his nose, Taehyung let out a grumble while Jungkook knitted his eyebrows. Surprisingly, the golden maknae was the one who wanted to point out that they were just few months younger than the eldest guy.

“We’re not kids, you know.”

“Say it when you finally turn 19!” Hoseok guffawed amusingly and pinched his cheeks just like a grandma would do to his grandson. Miyeon laughed at Jungkook’s reaction who caught sight of the giggling girl and a dangerous smirk started to creep onto his face.

“You’re also underage!” he blurted out childishly and she felt a need to whine but instead she just stuck her tongue out at him. No doubt that he was right as they both had their birthday on the same day, so they were both still 18. But 1st of September wasn’t that far away. To be precise, it was only 4 days away.

“Come to think of it, how will you spend your birthday?” Namjoon inquired while curiosity filled his eyes. He directly looked at her, so it was obvious that the question was for her. Still, she pondered over the thought before she finally said it out loud.

“Nothing really special. Maybe a birthday cake but nothing more extraordinary,” she shrugged absent-mindedly because she had no intention of celebrating it in any special way. Her birthday would be on Thursday when both Chanyeol and Taeyeon had after school activities and she also had to attend her CSAT preparation classes. On top of that, her parents usually worked until late at night, so this birthday didn’t seem to be so interesting. At least, not as interesting as the last one.

“Well, we’re celebrating Jungkook’s birthday on the 4th if you would like to join,” Jimin said, rather smugly that he was the first one who came up with the idea. She couldn’t deny that the invitation piqued her curiosity but she still wasn’t sure whether it would be a good idea to spend more time with Jungkook or actually a terrible one.

“I’ll think about it,” she finally mustered while her eyes were glued to the golden maknae. He didn’t show any sign of relief, so she knew it would be the best to suppress the intense beating of her heart which almost seemed like a passionate composition.

Soon enough, the boys had to go home as parents’ concerned phone calls occurred one after another and Miyeon also knew that it was time for her to go. Although she was having so much fun and literally had the best time of her life, she bid her goodbye and headed home.

She started roaming alone, dwelling on flashbacks of those good old days when she didn’t even spend a day without seeing these seven guys. The bittersweet nostalgia consumed her and she couldn’t prevent the painful melancholia from engulfing her thoughts. She tried to snap out of it by shifting her attention to the scenery around her but it didn’t help at all; it rather made her feel agitated. The city was picturesque and its lively streets were swimming in the tangerine waterfall which was created by the beautiful sunset. Memories of Jungkook and her watching sunsets popped up in her head and the sudden rush of loneliness slightly broke her heart.

After marching towards for a few minutes, she heard hasty footsteps from behind and a tall, slim figure suddenly caught up with her.

“Do you mind if I come with you?” Jungkook asked with a shaky voice and started walking beside her, still kind of short of breath. It looked like he was running until he saw her and this observation triggered getting nervous butterflies in her stomach.

“No, not at all” she shook her head decisively. “Are you at your dad’s this weekend?” she asked out of curiosity because his dad’s house was the one which was close to hers but immediately wanted to bite her tongue. She realised how painful this question might have been for the boy and mentally gave herself a good slap for acting like a total idiot. Luckily, Jungkook didn’t get offended and just nodded in agreement.

The next 15 minutes were spent in comfortable silence which neither of them wanted to break. Maybe for a period of time, it could have been exceptionally awkward but that day changed something. The border between them seemed to shatter after that particular day in March when Jungkook got beaten up and spent the evening in her house. They didn’t stammer anymore when they bumped into each other or had to do a pair work in class.

Nonetheless, they didn’t even get closer. Miyeon didn’t exactly know why. She wasn’t sure about her feelings, not to mention the golden maknae’s intentions as he didn’t say anything offensive but neither anything that would give her hope. Yet, false hope was the cruellest of all kind of cherished feelings; it was poisonous, believing in something for so long and didn’t get it in the end. She wanted to prevent herself from that painful disillusion. Which also meant that she had to force herself not to fall in love with him again. But it was already too late now; her border was totally ravaged.

Walking the same path as they used to do after such a long time was a new kind of experience. It was weird, refreshing and somehow reassuring at the same time.

“Oh, look!” she suddenly exclaimed, noticing the Banpo Bridge which was illuminated by hundreds of lights and she immediately walked faster to get closer to the bridge fountain, which citizens commonly called as the Rainbow Fountain. “I guess we’re just on time to see the show!” she bounced happily and stopped at the barrier to enjoy the colourful water show which was taking place in front of her.

It was weird to think of it that this was the bridge which they crossed when they celebrated their birthday together. Small wonder why Jamsu Bridge – and Banpo Bridge which was on top of it - had a special place in her heart and she felt that she had a strong connection with this place. It wasn’t just her favourite sight but also a lot of Koreans and tourists liked it. It was the world’s longest bridge fountain and held wonderful fountain shows several times a day when dancing, rainbow-coloured jets of water could be seen in the air in synchronization with the music. It was breath-taking and she couldn’t get sick of it, even though she had seen it several times before.

“Despite the fact that I see this show almost every day, I’m still amazed. It’s so beautiful!” she trailed off with her mouth agape and couldn’t take her eyes off the view. Jungkook also said something but he muttered so quietly that she couldn’t understand it. Miyeon shifted her attention to him and gently asked him to repeat what he had said.

“You’re beautiful, too,” he merely blurted out and the dimples deepened with his cute bunny smile. She had to look away not to look ridiculous because she was sure that she was blushing deeply. Well, maybe it was more sincere and heart-warming than if he had said it in front of the other boys and in all that noise and combustion during the dance festival. All that disappointment and bitterness vanished from before as if she hadn’t even felt it at all.

“Thanks,” that was all she could muster after a pause that lasted longer than she intended. She gave him a bashful smile and they were gazing at each other for God knows how long. She was lost in his beautiful jet-black eyes which had that adorable, prominent glint. The black and white completed each other so well that they resembled little dominos. Not to mention that his stare was almost like a cage; it locked her every single time their eyes met. Jungkook was dangerous and addictive but the best of all kinds of wrong.

“So, this was your last time when you danced before the exams?” Miyeon cleared her throat and tried to pacify her thumping heart and scrambling thoughts.

“Yeah,” the golden maknae nodded and a sheepish smile was forming on his lips. “I have CSAT preparation classes and I think it’ll be too much to attend both of them. I want to do my best on the exams, so until we’re finished with them, there would be no more dance practises, nor performances,” he continued and it was an uncharacteristically long answer from him. The enthusiasm in his voice didn’t go unnoticed and his eyes were shining with undeniable passion. She loved this side of Jungkook, so much that it almost hurt. He was so immersed into talking about dancing that you could see the slight twinkles in his eyes. Maybe she was in love with him just as much as he was in love with dance.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll secretly dance in your room, though.”

“How did you know that?” he chuckled and looked rather amused. It was so good to see him like that, it melted her confused heart. “Yeah, probably. You know me well,” he admitted while forcefully grasping the barrier. His eyes were staring far ahead and he looked totally amazed by the fountain show. Nonetheless, she could read him pretty well and knew that he wasn’t thinking about the beauty of those water-jets but something completely different like the time they had spent together.

She exactly knew that feeling; that insecurity and fear which was triggered by the joyful memories. That kind of fragility was something she wasn’t afraid of when she was a kid. But as years went by and she grew older, she understood why the elderly had that bitter expression every time they were prattling about a fond memory. She had been through it all: getting hurt and hurting others; falling down and keep running again; trying to break down someone’s wall but building up her own and loving someone and making them hate her. She had been through a lot since she met Jungkook but she was so thankful for him. Immature as she was, she couldn’t consider herself an adult even a year ago but he changed her. He taught her how to chase her dreams no matter what, ignore others’ expectations but her own and he also taught her about love. He was definitely a chapter of her book, a very decisive one.

“But even though we know each other well, I still don’t know your answer,” he stated out of the blue and finally turned to face her. He slightly raised one of his eyebrows in question while she merely looked at him, totally dumbfounded.

“What answer?”

“Your answer concerning whether you still like me or not,” he said right away and gazed at her, not letting Miyeon avert her eyes elsewhere but his face. It would have been an understatement to say that she was shocked because she was at the verge of fainting. She was extremely devastated, didn’t even know whether to drop her jaw, hug Jungkook tightly or run away from him. Even her heart decided against her will and started to thump like a ticking time-bomb which would explode any minute. She didn’t even think that he remembered for that night just as vividly as her, not to mention the fact the she left his question unanswered.

Miyeon blinked a few and coyly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her right ear. As she noticed the desperate anticipation in his eyes, she knew it was now or never. She had to tell him the truth unless she didn’t want to live her life miserably thinking about those what ifs. So, she cleared her throat and let out a faint, fragile sigh before she started speaking.

“I-I do,” she mumbled nervously and continued before he even had the chance to take a breath. “But I wasn’t prepared for all the attention we got. You know, there was nothing wrong with the fact that people recognized us but how they used my little brother to hurt me was beyond my imagination. It was bearable until they only hurt me but when they hurt him, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I thought that I could end all this if I break up with you−“

“Do you regret it?” Jungkook cut her off but it wasn’t even a bit irritating, instead she felt a rush of relief running through her body. Now, she felt like she could breathe again. Keeping secrets and never telling him the truth was undeniably poisonous, she sometimes felt a need to make sure she wouldn’t suffocate from all those nasty words.

“I assume that Chanyeol would have found out the truth sooner or later even if I don’t break up with you, so yes, I regret it now. But then, I thought that it was the best thing to do.”

“I know,” he said solemnly, nodding a bit as a sign of sympathy which set her at ease. Gosh, she was so afraid to talk to him again and not only did they talk for so long now but they also had an in-depth conversation, trying to elucidate their actions and finally make things right. “Your brother told me about it.”

“He did?” her eyes widened in surprise since Chanyeol had never pointed out that he had talked with Jungkook regarding the Dara case. Miyeon was pretty pleased with his greatly wrathful fight with his ex-girlfriend, she would have never thought that he also did such a thing.

“Yeah, a couple of days after he told Dara off. He thought that I deserved it because he was one of the reasons why you broke up with me.”

“So, you knew it all along?” she puzzled up the words the boy had said but still didn’t want to believe it. It didn’t make any sense. If he knew about it, why would he never say a thing to her? It was her initial intention to hide the truth from him as she didn’t want Jungkook to feel even worse, after realising that she had enough when Chanyeol got involved in their story. It was easier to say that it was because of all those nasty gossip and heartless bullying. Well, it was partly why she broke up with him but she got utterly pissed off when they hurt his little brother. It was alright until she was the only one who got hurt but she couldn’t let them hurt his brother. In the end, it seemed that nobody could survive the battle without wounds; Chanyeol, Miyeon and Jungkook all had to suffer the consequences of her action. Nonetheless, as time went by, their scars started to heal and the hideous pain was bearable, or they were merely accustomed to it.

“I knew. But I thought that I’m selfish if I want to hold onto you since I hurt you so much,” Jungkook admitted and his voice came out horse and extremely painful. He ashamedly looked away but she caught him nibbling his lips. She almost wanted to protest that it wasn’t true, he couldn’t blame himself for what had happened but he seemed impatient to wait for her answer and continued speaking.

“I needed you. Maybe more than you needed me. I needed someone who can accept my family background. Who I can talk to about nothing and everything. I never once intended to give you pain,” Jungkook whispered and his grievous words sounded like a pleading pray.

Miyeon’s heart immediately sunk after his confession and her whole body trembled in great shock. She was still in the abyss of his words, both lost in their shared memories and comprehending the present actions. She was examining Jungkook as he was standing beside her, digging his nails into his palms, the genial wind ruffling his hair and his whole presence displaying innocent purity and aching solace. He was so fragile; she was afraid that if she touches him or even says a single word, he may disappear.

“I know, Jungkook,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “I know. It wasn’t you. It was Dara, Bobby and all those horrible people that are jealous of others who are doing well. For some reason, they can’t stand it,” Miyeon insisted vigorously, suddenly feeling like a soldier who was ready to fight. But it was all past now, she was aware of that. She couldn’t change it, she couldn’t turn back time but she couldn’t control her aching heart either. There was only one thing she could do.

“I’m sorry that it had to be like this. You didn’t deserve it,” she shook her head, lips quivering, feeling nervous all of the sudden but all her words were sincere and affectionate. It was true and she couldn’t deny it; the one thing that hold her back from getting together with Jungkook was the shame. The shame that consumed her because she had caused so much pain and let him endure it all alone while she tried to make things right with Chanyeol. It wasn’t fair and she couldn’t help but dread his anger.

However, instead of shouting at her or leaving without answers, he merely said:

“I’m sorry that you had to get through all this,” he finally looked at her, so she faced a state-of-the-art boy whose eyes were filled with dismay and regret. The black and white in those little holes were the perfect representation of the yin yang symbol. They interconnected so well but one couldn’t exist without the other. Like light and dark or fire and water, Jungkook was also the description of duality, not just his beautiful jet-black eyes. All his little things were individually precious but added up the whole and made him even more vulnerable. Miyeon loved all of his sides, even the insecure, anxious dark side with the joyful white part and the pure, innocent white side with the inevitable darkness.

“We’re restless fighters, aren’t we?” she pointed out and a hopeful smile was evident on her face. She couldn’t bear the sight of the agitated boy, so she decided to clear the tension in the air. She even slightly nudged his shoulder which triggered his face slowly dissolving into a sheepish smile. Gosh, his smile was beyond words. “Actually, I’ve learned a lot from it. If we could turn back time, I would definitely give us another try. I believe I can handle things better and even tell them to go to hell if I get sick of their teasing,” she chattered, almost joyfully and her bold statement made his jaw drop.

“Wow! I’ve never thought I would hear such things from you,” he ran his hand through his coal-black hair while a childish giggle escaped his mouth. She let herself chuckle with him and for the first time that time, she felt weightless. It was that kind of feeling which made you feel like a butterfly that could finally fly away from its cage, far away from its problems, doubts and worries.

Yet, Jungkook’s face suddenly stiffened, so she hoped for the best and prepared for the worst. The question still made her heart leap.

“But if we didn’t turn back time, just try it out right now, would you say the same?” he asked recklessly and his eyes were pleading. Now, they were standing face-to-face, illuminated by the lights from the colourful lights of the show and gazing at each other, the closest that they happened to be in the last few months. She had to remind herself to breath because she was utterly nervous. Of course, she would, she wanted to shout, hug him while saying how much she had missed him, his voice, his lullabies, his touch, his vanilla and cinnamon scent, his beautiful eyes and those damn smirks. Gosh, how much she had missed him.

Though, she had to hold herself back and she finally opt for the most sensible option: the honest answer without showing any affection. Then, if he approved of her decision, she could hug him as much as she wanted.

“Yes, I would say the same,” she nodded decisively and the boy’s shoulders immediately loosened. He let out a heavy sigh and looked up at her, one of his typical smirks forming on his lips.

“Good. Because that’s what I was thinking, too,” he added, rather proudly and they smiled at each other, immersed into each other’s beautiful eyes and this new kind of feeling was starting to fill them up. She realised that she couldn’t hold it back anymore, so she walked up to him and hugged him tightly. Jungkook let out a chuckle as he embraced her and it felt just so perfectly right. She rested her chin on the crook of his neck while he patted her shoulder, slightly reluctantly and nervously but definitely affectionately.

“But don’t you dare to give me one of those damn smirks like you did during your performance!” she warned him, withdrawing for a few seconds to look up at him and facing a smugly smirking Jungkook. Oh boy, he was starting it again!

“Like this?” he asked as he challengingly wiggled his eyebrows and gave her the most attractive smirk ever. She blushed a bit but pinched his cheek which she knew he didn’t like. Unfortunately, Jungkook also remembered that she was extremely ticklish, so he didn’t miss the opportunity to get his revenge. She was screaming while trying to run away from him but it was a hopeless case; he was way too fast. He was tickling her while she protested that he should stop but he couldn’t take it serious. Honestly, Miyeon didn’t mind it either.

Maybe they needed those months to make them realise how much they missed and loved each other. But it was perfect this way; they grew to become a better person and learned how to stand out for themselves while they were apart. When they finally got together, they learned how to love again.

It was just right. It was all alright.

But those damn smirks were not. She had to do something about it, she made a mental note as she made an attempt to escape from his embrace. Fortunately, her attempt was a total failure.

■ ◄◄

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #52

Happy Thanksgiving! Here are thirty fics. I’m so close to being caught up that I can almost taste it.

This is also marks the 600th post on @maychorianrecs​. Hidey ho! 

And I still have like twenty-seven old fic rec lists I haven’t copied there yet.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Fogged Breath by BluePlanetTrash Words: 2,118 Author’s Summary: Ever since he was little Lance suffered from asthma. He didn’t think that it would be much of a problem in space. Fate had other plans for him, however. My Comments: Great little hurt!Lance fic with an exceptionally protective team. Hits the spot.

oh, the end of infinity by MissSugarPlum Words: 9,896 Author’s Summary: Matt can’t sleep. It’s not like this is a new occurrence. Sleep has been evading him for years now, and he can’t even remember what a proper restful night feels like. He sometimes thinks of when he was still at the Garrison, how he used to think he knew what stress was, how he used to bemoan the pressure from instructors, the rigorous training, the way he could only ever seem to get no more than six hours of sleep a night, and he yearns for the simplicity of back then. Past-Matt didn’t know how good he had it. -x- [Matt adjusts to being in the Castle of Lions.] My Comments: I really enjoyed this exploration of Matt getting used the castle and the team, especially the development of his relationship Lance. It starts out adversarial but gets much less so. Great scenes with Pidge, too. Possibly romantic Klance in the background, but can also be read as gen.

Congratulations by TheWonderTwins Words: 2,433 Author’s Summary: A mission doesn’t quite go to plan and Pidge is taken prisoner. Not everyone takes it as well as Pidge does. My Comments: Ahhh, Pidge. What a badass. This was exciting and fun to read.

Local Color by TheWonderTwins Words: 2,361 Author’s Summary: “Could this be more cliche?” Pidge muttered quietly. Keith smirked briefly. “We could get into a barfight.”“ Please resist the urge to punch people.” Pidge requested. My Comments: I frankly impressed that these two avoided getting into a barfight. Fun little scene with the two of them dealing with some aggression from locals quite well, actually.

What She Sees by HapaxLegomenon Words: 2,263 Author’s Summary: Matt’s safe, now, and Pidge is delighted to have her brother back. But Matt’s different, and she notices. Set during the end of “The Machinations of Perception.” My Comments: Little missing scene from a previously recced fic. Since that fic was entirely in Matt’s POV, it was nice to get a scene from Pidge’s perspective, here. These poor kids. Things are hard, but I’m glad they have each other now.

Easy Target by SunshineAndRainbows Words: 1,832 Author’s Summary: Every move was deliberate, every action filled with intent. He had meant to land his ship, he meant to stand from his cockpit, and so, he meant to walk slowly, deliberately to meet his hopeful allies. He had certainly meant to say something clever and suitably dignified in greeting.He hadn’t meant to collapse the moment his feet hit solid ground. My Comments: How to make me feel sympathetic to Lotor: Whump him good.

Go Go Paladins of Voltron by hufflepirate Words: 2,662 Author’s Summary: Shiro gave up everything, including his spot at the Garrison, to look after his dying mother. Now his mother is gone and he’s alone — until he meets four teenagers with attitude, a set of mysterious keys, and maybe, just maybe a purpose. Written for platonicvldweek 3, for the prompt Alternate Reality/Free, so it’s not QUITE a Power Rangers Fusion AU, but it is the meet cute from Power Rangers (2017), but with Voltron. We’re calling it an alternate reality, not an alternate universe, because they’re gonna end up in space doing their space thing, just… a little differently. (Marked complete because I like the ending ok as it is and don’t have time to write this as a multichapter fic right now.) My Comments: I haven’t seen the new Power Rangers movie, but you don’t need to enjoy this fun, fluffy little getting-together fic.

Bad to Worse by bookwormgir1LH Words: 1,794 Author’s Summary: Lance, Keith, Hunk and Pidge go on a hiking trip. Things start to wrong from the offset, but it soon gets even worse… My Comments: Fun modern AU about an absolutely disastrous attempt at having a good time. Poor kids, but everything turns out okay. Lance’s POV is fun to read, too, even as things go very wrong.

All Hallow’s Eve by this_book_has_been_loved Words: 2,921 Author’s Summary: In which the Paladins discover that Keith’s birthday is only a week before Halloween My Comments: Aw, poor Keith. Everyone’s heart is in the right place, but things are hard, sometimes.

What Could Have Been by Crowoxy Words: 5,222 Author’s Summary: Lotor is only a few decaphoebs (years) younger than Allura and it was just easier for him to leave Daibaazal for Altea. A what-if scenario where if Lotor grew up on Altea, what changed and what stayed the same?Day 7 of the Platonic VLD Week - Free/ Alternate Universe My Comments: I felt bad for Lotor being so obviously neglected by his parents, but it was really nice to see him growing with Allura and Coran and Alfor as his family instead. Cool AU. I would read more of this concept, and I’m not even a huge fan of Lotor. I could see, with the right upbringing, his charisma and intelligence being used for good ends instead of his own ambition.

Snowtron by Eastofthemoon Words: 2,648 Author’s Summary: It had all started with five words. Five words that changed the entire course of the day. Five words Allura never imagined she would hear any paladins say while piloting their lions. “GIANT ROBOT LION SNOWBALL FIGHT!” My Comments: Holy fish balls, this is ADORABLE. I love Allura getting dragged into Earthling shenanigans, and the ending scene with Lotor and crew was icing on the cake. The snowy, snowy cake.

A Gremlin In Glasses Swoops In To Save The Day by Kabber, this_book_has_been_loved Words: 2,752 Author’s Summary: First installment in a Percy Jackson AU for Voltron. In which Lance and Hunk discover that they may not be entirely human My Comments: Really fun action scene for an AU that is just FULL of possibilities. I especially adore Pidge swooping in to save Hunk and Lance. Exciting and intriguing read.

The Opposite of Sorrow by nightwalker for HumanTrampoline Words: 6,165 Author’s Summary: Shiro takes a hit from a druid spell that causes its victims to just quietly give up and die. Fortunately he’s got six good reasons to keep fighting. My Comments: The spell Shiro gets hit with is basically weaponized depression, and it’s pretty terrifying. But the solution is hugs and cuddling and bonding time, and I am all kinds of down for that kind of cure. Extremely sweet and heartwarming fic, and Keith’s POV is wonderful.

let the fog burn let my wick fray by imperiality Words: 4,501 Author’s Summary: Little bonfires are little things Keith and Pidge do. He can’t look away from the flames, Pidge can’t seem to get what he’s after. But then she wants to spice it up on a Halloween night. This purple fog is oppressive. My Comments: Interesting and different way to study Keith and emotionally hurt him at the same time. It’s a good thing his team came after him.

Grateful for the Years to Come by Ms_Marchy Words: 4,001 Author’s Summary: Five years after saying goodbye to her son, Maria McClain gets the greatest gift of being reunited with her son. Everyone knows Lance worries over how much he missed in his family’s lives. No one ever thinks about what Maria was missing about her son’s life. She didn’t even know herself until one day two giant mechanical lions land near her house. The Space War is finally over. Everyone can go home. My Comments: This was heartbreaking and heartwarming in equal measure. It’s sad to see just how much years of war scarred Lance, but it’s also wonderful to see him at home and loved with his family again, and his mother’s perspective is lovely and warm. Ambiguous Klance.

And My Nightmares Will Have Nightmares Every Night by ardett Words: 9,096 Author’s Summary: Restart program? A series of alternate paths in the Dream, Seam series. My Comments: Really cool and unique way of showing a bunch of ways this story could have gone really, really wrong. Or, well, wrong from a certain perspective. I adore this, though it hurts me, like a lot. Warning for major character death, though it doesn’t really stick.

With These Hands by A_Zap Words: 1,486 Author’s Summary: Despite all the trouble they’d been through, Hunk figured everything had turned out all right. After all, he and Lance had managed to return to the castle! Then Hunk sees the bruises and knows that things are not as good as he thought. My Comments: Great missing scene that we were totally robbed of in canon. I love these sweet summer boys and their relationship so much. Surprisingly more hurt!Hunk than hurt!Lance, actually, but I love both flavors.

She’s Looking A Little Green by spitfire00 Words: 3,936 Author’s Summary: Katie Holt was born to pilot the Green Lion, and her father knows it- Even if he doesn’t realize it. My Comments: Great, great Sam POV, and a wonderful Holt reunion in here too. Really cool look at the paladins and their fateful uniqueness.

Bruising Waters by TheStoryVerse Words: 17,743 Author’s Summary: Never tell a Soul. Never Let Yourself Be Seen. His mother’s words had been pounded into Lance’s head from birth; a warning to prepare him and keep his family safe. He’s managed to hide from the Garrison and even in space. But, much to Lance’s chagrin, the universe has other plans. When Lance contracts an alien virus while out on a diplomatic mission that starts attacking his Mer form, Lance figures it’s just a “space cold”. He brushes off the others’ worry and tries to continue as normal. But the pain is getting worse with each passing day, and he hasn’t had a moment’s peace alone to change forms and see what could be causing it. When everything finally hits the fan, the team quickly finds that Lance is in much worse condition than they had assumed. Lance is not only dying, but he’s changing right in front of their eyes.So much Hurt and Whump in the first chapter. So much good Bonding and Comfort in the next two. Let’s do this y'all! (Sorry, Lance) My Comments: This is some PRIMO hurt!Lance, lemme tell ya. A unique form of whump, and holy crow is is brutal. It gets kinda gross too, just to warn you. But the bonding and comfort and in the second two chapters more than makes up for it. Maybe a touch over the top at times, but darned if I didn’t enjoy every moment. Totally satisfying and highly recommended to hurt!Lance afficionados. You know who you are.

Wide Awake by taylor_tut Words: 1,373 Author’s Summary: From an anon request on my tumblr: Lance catches a bug that keeps him awake. When he’s not allowed to train during the day with everyone else, he tries to do it alone at night. It goes about as well as you’d think. My Comments: Aw, poor Lance. Great little sickfic with an unusual premise.

With Hands Tied Backwards by GibbousLunation Words: 6,684 Author’s Summary: Lance had this problem, just sometimes, where his brain got all floaty and his hands started feeling like maybe he’d forgotten to put them on properly in the morning. Like they were backwards and inverted and everything else was upside down too. Lance’s eyes slide out of focus staring at twinkling stars thousands of miles away, he lines his knuckles up in neat little rows, and he thinks too much about too many things. Team Voltron is falling apart in little ways, and building itself up taller ten times over. It started as a joke, “You know what would suck?“ It was easier to pretend they weren’t just kids fighting a war they’d never asked for, probably. "Angry edgy Not-Slav giving you CPR with his beak.” My Comments: Poignant and emotional exploration of Lance dealing with trauma-induced dissociation, and the kind of messed up games kids in war play to distract themselves from the threat of death while still acknowledging that it’s there. Klance that starts out ambiguous and then gets much less ambiguous, but could possibly still be read as gen. The point is survival, not romance.

Immunity by RiRiMania1335 Words: 2,165 Author’s Summary: Keith hardly ever gets sick. But if he does, it hits him like a truck. My Comments: Aw, poor Keith. He gets sick so rarely that he truly and sincerely believes that he’s dying, haha. Fortunately the others are there are to reassure him and take care of him.

Bonds by this_book_has_been_loved Words: 1,470 Author’s Summary: At first, it was subtle enough that none of them realized it. The bond with their Lions—that was obvious. Lance had felt it pretty much as soon as he laid eyes on the Blue Lion, and the rest of them had all had similar experiences. It was the bond with each other that was harder to pick up on. My Comments: I really like how this fic explores the concept of a psychic bond into the current canon, with all of the changes and disruptions and how that affects everyone.

Platonic VLD Week 3 - Oneshot Collection by hufflepirate Words: 10,865 Author’s Summary: WARNING: HEREIN BE S4 SPOILERS Day 1: Sleep/Nightmare - Pidge never wanted to share a room with Matt, but now that they have nightmares sharing’s not so bad. Day 2: Inside/Outside - Set mid-4.1 - Kolivan comforts Keith after the decoy ship blows up. Day 3: Tricks/Treats - Matt plays a trick on Team Voltron (a t-Rick) Day 4: Supernatural/Horror - Keith has an uncanny encounter with some Altean soldiers Day 5: Change/Growth - Hunk helps Allura learn more about piloting her lion [S3] Day 6: Distance/Proximity - Tag to 3.4 - After Allura returns, Coran hovers a little too close (Day 7: Alternate reality/Free is separate and the next fic in my platonicvldweek series.) My Comments: I love everything this author does, and this collection of little fics is like a kaleidoscope of Good Stuff. My favorites are probably day 2 and day 4, but they are all good and worth reading.

Old Soldier and Spy by Crowoxy Words: 1,874 Author’s Summary: Kolivan is the old spy who watches all of these young children grow into this war that’s been happening for ten thousand years. Day 5 of the Platonic VLD Week: Growth My Comments: I love this view of Kolivan as a wise, compassionate mentor for young soldiers, and his perspective on both Keith and Lotor is lovely and kind.

The Fear Of Falling Apart by this_book_has_been_loved Words: 3,211 Author’s Summary: Lance has feelings of inadequacy My Comments: This is so cute, and exactly how I want the relationship between Pidge, Matt, and Lance to develop in canon. I want them all to be wonderful siblings and appreciate each other and have fun playing video games. Pidge has two big brothers and it’s wonderful.

King of Wishful Thinking by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 7,126 Author’s Summary: From Tumblr: Send me an AU and I’ll give you 5 Headcanons 1) The Galra attack Earth after the Pals leave in the Blue Lion 2) Pidge conspires to get Shiro a dog, and he ends up opening up a version of the Old Dogs Senior Sanctuary. Oops.  3) Scooby Doo AU (yes really) 4) Shiro’s relationship with his wings (Wing AU) My Comments: Each of these concepts fully deserves a full-fledged, 50k novel-length opus, but these small glimpses into the different worlds provided are immensely worth reading on their own, intriguing and heartwarming and horrifying by turns. My favorite is probably the Old Dogs Sanctuary AU, but they are all good.

Where Light and Dark Meet by squirenonny for Pechat Words: 34,168 Author’s Summary: The Fallen One arises: A captive star yearning for the heavens from which it was stolen… So begins the Prophecy of the Fallen Star, which speaks of the one who will save the kingdom from Haggar’s curse. Lance, Keith, and their friends are summoned to get in touch with Allura, the deposed princess of Altea, who is widely believed to be the Fallen Star from the prophecy. But things aren’t going to be quite so simple. Lance was cursed to become a cat at night; Keith spends his days as a crow. They both have a role to play in the coming battle, and they’re going to have to learn to trust each other–but how can they when they only ever meet in the fleeting moments at twilight when they both are human? My Comments: Klance and implied future Kallurance. I ADORE squirenonny’s fics, especially her fantasy AUs. Such amazing worldbuilding, great descriptions and and plotting and characterization. This one has some really nice hurt!Lance and protective Hunk and Pidge, too, which I always appreciate. I’m very pleased that this is apparently going to be a series, so I’ll get to read more in this world eventually. Just a great, great read, highly addictive, couldn’t stop once I started. I love it when that happens.

Blast Zone by bubblebucky Words: 4,729 Author’s Summary: In the middle of a mission, a bomb going off leaves Lance unable to hear. Still, while he’s deaf, the rest of his team are the ones that won’t listen. My Comments: This hits all of my buttons SO HARD. It gave me that good ache in my chest, you know the one. The other characters may be sliiiightly OOC in order to really hammer the hurt in on Lance, but it didn’t ping my “back away immediately” sense the way woobification usually does. Instead it felt understandable for a high-stress situation and I accepted it. The almost too-severe pain heightened the emotions for me and made the ending all the more satisfying. I REALLY love this. I’ve already read it several times, especially the ending, and it’s definitely in my Favorite Fics folder.

Home and a Half by sarehptar Words: 84,407 (7/?) Author’s Summary: They make a mistake that follows them home. (Or: Keith becomes an unwitting caretaker to three Galra children, who teach him a great deal about how to take care of himself.) My Comments: I am reading fewer WIPs these days because there are so many completed fics I still haven’t gotten to but want to, but this was recced to me so it moved to the top of my priority list, and I’m so glad I gave it a shot. This is far from a fluffy baby acquistion fic, with a lot of moral questions and deep consideration of mature themes, which makes the fic more bittersweet and heartwrenching than cute, though there are plenty of cute moments, too. It’s incredibly well-written and interesting, and the latest chapters have really brought some fun worldbuilding and adventure elements. I was afraid it was abandoned, but the author assures me it is not, and I’m really looking forward to continuing to follow this story to completion.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

Shadows of Stars (84674 words) Why it sucks to be a snake in space(52445 words) As Color Fades Away (211491 words) Shifting Sands (38605 words) - now complete

[disneyfanatic-kitty]

The Other Malfoy: Chapter 1 - The Progress

(~1900 words)  Read it on AO3

Story Summary: Ever since the events in HPCC, Harry had felt ashamed of the prejudices he had shown against poor Scorpius Malfoy. Determined to improve his relationship with Albus, he realised he owed Scorpius his thanks and apology, so he tried to take initiatives to make amends to the Malfoys, especially Scorpius. Little did Harry know that he would develop an unlikely friendship with his former nemesis and he would need to help his son to fight the demons that had been plaguing him since the incidents.

Books and HPCC-compliant. Harry/Scorpius, Harry/Albus, Harry/Draco (friendship only), (kind of) Hinny story

I had tried to post this story here before but it seems like no one noticed it at all so I am going to post it chapter by chapter on here.

As Harry Potter stood on Platform 9¾ next to Draco Malfoy, waiting for the Hogwarts Express to pull in at the beginning of the winter break, he could not help reflecting on the past four months that had brought such dramatic and drastic changes to his life.

It had only been mere months ago that he had said those fateful words to his own son, Well, there are times I wish you weren't my son, the words that had brought such claustrophobic consequences to not only his relationship with Albus, but also to the entire world. Not a day had gone by in which he had not felt regret for these impulsive words he had said, but as he had said to Albus on their day out to visit Cedric's grave, he could not ask his boy to forget it, the only thing he could do was to hope that they could move past it.

Harry noted to himself about how good things had been since that afternoon. He had been writing letters to Albus himself, without Ginny's input, since the night at Godric's Hollow, something he had not done since Albus' first year. He would rack his brain for the safest thing to write, trying the hardest to avoid anything that would irritate his boy, anything he had famously done, any comparison of Albus' Hogwarts' life to his own, anything about his own tragic childhood, anything about Gryffindor and Slytherin. He had tried to keep things simple and short in the beginning, but was able to write longer and freer gradually. In times, he realised that the magical ingredient was Scorpius Malfoy. A letter was bound to be better received if he tried to show a genuine interest and care to the young Malfoy heir. He could still remember every word in his first letter as he had spent half a day and rolls of parchments to word it the most appropriate way he could, mere days after Albus had returned to Hogwarts after Godric's Hollow.

"Dear Albus,

How are you? I hope you are recovering well from the injuries you have suffered. I want to say thank you for staying by my side that night after returning home. Words cannot express how much you being there meant to me after witnessing what we had witnessed. I am extremely proud of you, for the bravery and intelligence you have shown that night, you have saved me and the world that night. You should be proud of yourself as well. I love you, my son, but please never put yourself in dangers like this again.

How is Scorpius doing? He seemed to have experienced a fair share of trauma from this incident as well. Please say thanks to him for me.

Love,

Dad"

Harry had not have much expectations when he had sent this letter out, the best he could have hoped for was a line or two from Albus to acknowledge that he had received the letter, so he could not have been more surprised when his son had made a big confession to him in his reply.

"Dad,

You're welcome. Are you feeling better? Thanks for your compliments I guess, but I do not deserve them. Professor Mcgonagall is keeping an close eye on us both so it's not like we can get into troubles even if we want. Scorpius seems to be doing fine but"

There were some crossed words that Harry could not make out after and the whole parchment had been torn off right below. The letter was continued on another piece of parchment.

"Scorpius was tortured by the Cruciatus Curse that night and if any permanent harm had been caused because of that, it would be my fault. I have been such a terrible friend to poor Scorpius.

Albus"

Harry had suspected that Delphi had used the Unforgivable curses on the boys but it had been even more upsetting to have his suspicions confirmed. But as Harry considered the way Albus had worded it, it had appeared that Albus himself had not been tortured, which should have been a relief but was in a way even worse than Albus being the one who had been tortured. Albus had obviously been feeling very guilty about this which meant that Delphi had likely tortured Scorpius to force Albus to do what she had wanted. Harry could actually understand why Albus would choose to confide with himself, since there was nobody in the entire world who understood guilt as well as Harry Potter, given the number of people who had died for him, and the number of people who had died, suffered or been tortured in connection to him. While he would never be able to forget the deaths of all the friends he had known, the deaths of his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Moody and Dobby had been different in ways as he would always believe that they had died because of him, the same way that George had lost an ear and Hermione had been tortured because of him. For twenty years he had tried to carry on with his life shouldering the burden of all these deaths and sufferings. There had been many times that he had wished that he had died instead of them. The burden of being accountable for his friends' deaths and sufferings was so heavy that he had wished that his children would never have to understand. Unfortunately, it had apparently been too late for Albus.

Also, by the end of Albus and Scorpius' adventures with the Time Turner, it had been obvious that if one friend had been a bad influence on the other, it was Albus, not Scorpius. Despite Scorpius' insistence that he shared equal blame as Albus because he had wanted to join Albus and Albus had not forced him to go, it was obviously Albus' faults that Scorpius had gone on this adventures and had put himself at risks, thus Harry's fault as he had driven Albus away at the first place. The days in which he had been able to do so little to recover the lost boys had been terrible enough for Harry, he could not imagine how much more terrible they had been for Malfoy.

He remembered Draco's words in his office ,... it was exceptionally lonely, being Draco Malfoy. While Harry had been suffering at the time, he still had the support of his wife, two children, his extended family, two capable and supportive best friends, his many other friends and the whole Auror department which had been doing its best to assist in his searches. During all of this, Draco had been all alone in the Malfoy Manor, with absolutely no support network, dreading that his only family would probably be lost from him forever. Despite the history he had shared with his former nemesis, Draco Malfoy had been simply a grieving husband and frightened father at that moment. Scorpius was Draco's everything. He had not hesitated at all to give up his priceless Time Turner, knowing it had been their only hope to recover their sons, even though it could have cost Draco his freedom. Albus felt guilty that Scorpius had been tortured but reading the letter, Harry could not help feeling guilty that Scorpius had been tortured, that he himself had caused such terrible sufferings to Draco and his son because of the immature words he had said. How would he be able to bring himself to face Draco if any permanent harm had been done to Scorpius?

It had been very difficult to reply to such a letter, especially when his stubborn boy had shown such a remarkable proof of trust to reveal that detail of Scorpius' torture. He understood that Albus had been convinced that it had been his fault that his best friend had been tortured and there would be nothing Harry could have written that would be able to convince Albus otherwise. Instead of trying to talk his son off of his guilt, he had acknowledged how inevitable that he would feel responsible and encouraged him to keep an eye on his best friend. He had advised Albus to look out for nightmares, tempers and mental breakdown and to just stay by Scorpius' side. Understanding more about the traumas they had experienced, Harry had sent a few bars of chocolate to Albus and Scorpius to cheer them up, which had caused his reply to be even better received than he had hoped, despite a reply that told him Draco had already sent a few luxurious boxes of chocolates to them. It had been the sentiments that mattered after all. Things had gotten better in terms of their communication as Albus had become more confident that Scorpius had not suffered any long-term effects from his tortures. The themes of their letters had gotten lighter and more casual, Albus had even tried to reproduce a bad joke of Scorpius in his last letter.

But then there was the matter of Draco, he deserved to know that his only son had been tortured. The more Harry got to know about Scorpius from Albus, the more he appeared to be someone who would hide his sufferings and put on a brave smile for the sake of his loved ones. Harry had no idea whether Scorpius had told his father that he had been tortured but it was not like he could ask Albus for that information. Also, to tell Draco that behind the boys' backs would betray Albus' trust, which was the last thing he would ever wanted. The worst thing about this dilemma was that, there was no possible way he could tell Draco that would make Albus appear blameless. Although Draco seemed to appreciate Albus' presence in Scorpius' life, there was no telling how this information would affect the way he see Albus. Having made the terrible mistake of separating the best friends once, Harry was resolved that he would never allow himself to be the cause of damage in the friendship between the boys ever again.

He had considered owling Draco to tell him this information but no matter how he wrote, it seemed very wrong. Hello Malfoy, How are you doing? I just think you deserve to know that Scorpius has been tortured by Delphi. Potter. As the days rolled by, the boys were due to come home for Christmas and Harry had yet to tell Draco. He realised that it would perhaps be better for him to approach Draco and to tell him in person on the platform as he would be able to ease him into that, or he could at least test the waters and make sure that Scorpius was okay first, so there he was.

It was actually very lucky that the boys were allowed to spend winter break at home at all. In light of the discovery of Delphi Riddle's involvements and manipulations in the boys' attempts in meddling with time, their witness of Craig Bowker Jr's death and the sufferings and traumas they had endured in the hands of Delphi, Professor Mcgonagall had significantly reduced their punishments to just three detentions and a ban of two Hogsmeade visits. Harry himself was very grateful for this timely winter break that he could use to mend his relationship with Albus, following the little successes he had so far with the letters.

A/N: This is only my third fanfic and originally, I was going to write a sequel to one of my previous stories, "Scorpius' Letter", which followed the Draco/Scorpius/ (Astoria) relationship, intending to explore the dynamic between Draco/Albus in the new story. It was during my planning that I realized I could even write a nice companion piece to that sequel focusing on Harry/Scorpius dynamic, as like D/S and D/A, we barely got to see anything from this perspective in the script. Something that bugged me a lot while reading HPCC was that of all people, Harry really should have known better than being prejudiced against poor Scorpius, it felt to me that even after Scorpius had saved the day, Harry didn't do anything to acknowledge his mistakes and cruelty to the boy, which just struck me as very wrong.

As I was having a hard time beginning to write my sequel, I felt myself getting compelled to write this "companion story" more than the original story, so here I am. I still want to write the sequel but it will definitely take me a long time.

I intend for this story to happen to the same version of these characters from my previous stories, even though there won't be much connection here to them. Please check out my other stories if you are interested.

[attract-mode-collective]

The Video Game Movie Equivalent Of “Manos: The Hands of Fate” Is A Wonder Boy Adaptation You Had No Idea Existed

Forget the live action Super Mario Bros, forget both live action Street Fighters, and forget every single vehicles that Uwe Boll has helmed: 2010’s Wonder Boy is unquestionably the worst video game movie ever produced. Period. That’s saying a lot, I know.

I was made aware of its existence by Minus World’s Ollie Jameson, who passed along this impressive and entertaining piece of investigative journalism by coolgreat.website, which primarily concentrates on Robin Morningstar, one of two individuals that’s responsible. Who at one point tried to produce a version starring live actors with, of all people, Uwe Boll? And before that, he seemingly produced a flick based upon Chakan the Forever Man, an even more obscure Sega property than Wonder Boy!

But yeah, I’m assuming Ollie gave me the heads up cuz knows of my fondness for video game cinema, along with my affinity for incredibly strange/just plain trash movies. I know it’s cool to be into films that are “so bad it’s good”, but trust me, I’m way deep down in the rabbit hole of bonkers, outsider cinema, which means I also regularly consume (and honestly enjoy) movies that most would consider “so bad it’s really bad”. So my tolerance is exceptionally high for such nonsense, yet even I had a difficult time sitting through the entire thing.

Yes, I’ve watched the entirely of the above. My goal was to produce a detailed review, but honestly… it’s simply not possible. For starters, nothing and I mean nothing makes sense. Which is quite the feat, given that it’s jam packed with plot and characters for a solid hour and a half. Perhaps it’s due to my lack of familiarity with the subject matter, but try as I might, I could not find any real connection between the film and the game it is based upon, from everything I’ve read online, which I believe is Wonder Boy in Monster World? There are a few similarities, but they’re all overshadowed by the vast differences.

Okay, so a film being nothing like the game it’s based upon is hardly groundbreaking. But what if that film based on a game is made on top of an entirely different game?!? Which in this case is Second Life. And that’s the thing: this Wonder Boy adaptation is beyond fascinating, with so many legit oddball aspects that it’s impossible to flat out dismiss. But despite it all, it’s still damn near unwatchable. I think my main take away is how it’s much easier to digest piss poor acting, a confusing story, a plodding pace, and nonsensical editing when it involves real people and not Second Life avatars.

So there’s one other person responsible, who isn’t even cited in the aforementioned write-up: producer/director/animator Lucinda McNary. The best comparison I can make is that she’s essentially the Neil Breen of machinma, for those of you familiar with his work. Alas, I was originally going to title this post "The Video Game Movie Equivalent Of ‘Fateful Findings’ Is A Wonder Boy Adaptation You Had No Idea Existed” but I know that movie’s not quite as well known and I gots to get dem clicks baby. Also, I think anyone can tell that I’m kinda struggling to figure a way to directly discuss the subject… Robin Morningstar/Lucinda McNary’s take on Wonder Boy is just so… something.

Perhaps I should put more effort, cuz I know 99% of you will not watch more than 30 seconds, if that. Though I implore everyone to at least fast-forward to the 59:55 mark and see if you can at least make it till the 1:02:55 mark. Anyhow, moving on…

As noted last time, I’ve got yet another assortment of video game videos to help thin out the backlog. Though this just in, another slice of life from the man behind the greatest video game program in the history of human civilization, aka BitHead1000. I love nothing more than to hear him rant about the idiots he encounters while looking for games at garage sales in Long Island. Though the following also includes anecdotes from his younger days, which has less to do about games and more to do with crabs…

Time again for another longer vid, and time again for yet another TNT infomercial! This one actually predates the one that was recently discovered two months ago, by a year, which means it might be the very first one produced? Yet that also means its even more rough around the edges, as in Todd isn’t nearly the showman that we would later become, but we all have to start somewhere…

Not to bring up politics, but like many folks out there, I have rather complicated feelings as it pertains to my homeland, that being the United States of America. Though I have found a video that perfectly illustrates said relationship. Imagine Captain America here as the government as it is today, and myself as Guile (via sndfrosteyneko)…

Sticking with fighting games, here we have yet another lengthy vid, but one you’ll surely absorb every second of… provided you’re a fan of SNK, gravure idols, and LaserDiscs. Neo Geo Gal's Graffiti centers on the woman of assorted SNK fighters, all being interviewed by none other than Reiko Chiba, who also dresses up as her subjects (who, in turn, tells our host plus the player how to perform special moves and combos). I should have maybe also included Super Sentai to the list; Reiko is best known as being the original Pink Power Ranger (via vgjunk)…

And finally, I too saw Spider-Man Homecoming and I too loved it a whole lot. The reasons are numerous, though it’s largely due to Batman, I mean the Vulture. Well, Michael Keaton to be exact, and I’ve been waiting ages for the right time to share the following. Alas, it’s now out of date, but that just means it’s time for ULTIMATE MICHEAL KOMBAT….

Don’t forget: Attract Mode is now on Medium! There you can subscribe to keep up to date, as well as enjoy some “best of” content you might have missed the first time around, plus be spared of the technical issues that’s starting to overtake Tumblr.

[lykezoinks]

[ a/n: alright, this is my last entry for @klangst-week. thanks everybody for all the likes and reblogs! it keeps me writing, and it’s just nice to see people enjoying what i’m putting out! also, the works everyone’s created have just been amazing, so keep it up, y’all! ]

title: impulse control words: 3,547 prompt: secrets/betrayal rating/genre: T for language, modern au, college au, angst & hurt/comfort with a tinge of humor trigger warning(s): mental illness (implied depression and anxiety), depersonalization, mentions of injury (bruises and blood) extra notes: keith and shiro are adoptive brothers (it’s mentioned very briefly), klance is established

Yes, he works in the most hipster coffee shop within a twenty mile radius of campus. And yes, he loves it. Sure, The Underground sounds more like a sketchy bar you’d find in an alleyway that may or may not host fight clubs every other night, and yeah, it kinda smells like pencil shavings even after he mops the floors three times at opening, but at least it has character. Most people would roll their eyes at the always pretentious shop-goer in their thrift store clothing and knit hats, but Lance can’t help but find them interesting. Not that it surprises anyone.

Lance became famous around campus after only one year of being a— totally amazing, if he may say so himself— residence hall assistant. Almost anyone who lived in Levine Hall found a friend in Lance McClain. Eager to please and even more eager to befriend, it’s no secret that he falls in love with almost every social interaction he can muster up.

So he really doesn’t mind if a customer wants to discuss their latest film project, and he’s always happy to adhere to any non-dairy milk preference. Though he doesn’t have a septum ring to match his coworkers’ and he’s a bit too smiley for the spoken poetry nights they host on the stage in the back, that doesn’t stop anyone from placing a dollar in the tip jar after he compliments their tattoos or ends a pleasant conversation with a smile and a wink.

The night shift is easy enough to work. People stop entering the cafe sometime after ten, staying their welcome to study on the couches and leaving before closing. Lance’s manager insists Lance work the front while Floyd takes on the side work. So the remainder of Lance’s shift is spent leaning his elbow against the counter and letting his fingers fall one-by-one against his cheek. He tells leaving customers to enjoy the rest of their night as they leave behind a buzz of idle chatter and a ding of the door. Once the cafe clears out, all that’s left is the sounds of Floyd sweeping the floors and an acoustic song from some band that Lance thinks should have never left their basement.

“Am I free to go, bossman?” Lance asks, drumming his hands against the counter, wiggling his hips in time with the beat as his eyes dart between Floyd and the analog clock on the wall.

“You’re good to go,” Floyd nods, sliding Lance’s wallet across the countertop.

With a happy sigh, Lance punches a few buttons on the register, pulling the drawer out and placing it in the office in the back before clocking himself out and grabbing his keys from the hook. The second he does, his phone rings from its spot in his jacket pocket. Slipping it into his palm, he drags his thumb across the screen and cradles it between his ear and his shoulder. “Perfect timing! How’s it hangin’, Pidgeotto?”

“Lance! Hey, um…” The way Pidge says ‘Lance’, high pitched and cracking, tells him he’s about to get bad news. Before he can stop her, Pidge is already stringing together a plethora of subject changers that just seem ridiculous given that the two of them weren’t on a particular subject to begin with.

“Pidge,” Lance interrupts partway through some bullshit commentary having to do with the ‘crazy weather we’ve been having.’ Lance knows that no one has to explain climate change to Pidge, given its something she rants about at least twice a day. “What’s going on?”

“Yeah, okay… Um, we’re at Black Spot… And, uh— Hunk… Hunk, would you— No, grab him! Jesus… “

“What happened?” His sigh is heavy as he closes the door behind him after giving Floyd a curt wave, already headed toward his car. The Black Spot never means anything good, ever. Why his boyfriend so loves the town’s shadiest bar is beyond Lance; he doesn’t exactly find peeling paint and stained floor boards charming. And the muscled biker guys that do nothing but take up space at the bar to glower at the assorted whiskeys along the wall and ramble about their Navy days— or something like that— don’t exactly put Lance in the partying mood.

“Lotor happened.”

“Oh, God…” Lance drags a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose.

He doesn’t need context. Any instance in which Lance’s current boyfriend and Lance’s ex-boyfriend are in the same room usually results in disaster. And a night in the E.R. And, lo and behold, by some cruel twist of fate, these disasters are becoming more and more frequent in recent months. Lance is half convinced that they’re destined to kill each other, like Lotor is Tybalt and Keith is a far less flamboyant Mercutio. Lance refuses to be the Benvolio in this situation. “Just stay put. I’ll be there in a sec.”

A near collision and a half-assed parallel parking job later, Lance walks himself outside the bar, feeling exceptionally underdressed as the Winter weather dusts over his arms. He has to push himself through a crowd of people waiting to be let in by the bouncer before he sees a head of familiar wild hair. In her NASA sweatshirt and minimalist alien hat, Pidge looks like she belongs at a performance art showcase rather than a night out on the town, but Lance is too exhausted to comment on his friends’ poor fashion decisions. Even if that Hawaiian shirt is so not Hunk’s color.

Instead, his focus shifts onto his leather-clad boyfriend, and rather than point out the fact he looks like a Danny Zuko knock-off with a red beanie and black baby gauges in his ears, he steps forward with his arms crossed instead.

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge sighs, sounding somewhat relieved. Hunk is a bit busy grabbing at Keith’s shoulder every time he tries to take a step toward the street. Handling a Drunk Keith is like— as Keith would say in True Texan Spirit— herding cats.

“Hey,” Lance says briskly, marching passed Pidge to strap a hand on the collar of Keith’s jacket. “Lemme see.”

Keith huffs and turns his head, looking utterly indifferent as Lance’s eyes widen.

“Shit, Keith…” He squints a little, scanning over his boyfriend’s busted lip and the fresh patch of bruises, purples, blues, and reds bleeding from underneath one eye, across the bridge of his nose, and all the way under his other eye.

“It’s not that bad,” Keith slurs, holding up a wavering hand.

“Not that—!” Lance has to close his eyes and suck in a breath through his nose, counting to ten just like Mama McClain taught him, before he can open his eyes again. But his glare doesn’t disappear.

“Sorry, man,” Hunk all but mewls beside him, rubbing at the back of his neck in a flustered fashion. “I tried to pull them off of each other as soon as I could.”

“It’s not your fault, big guy,” Lance assures, turning to his best friend with a soft smile before glaring right back at his boyfriend. “It’s yours.”

“Why is it that all of a sudden—” Keith starts, but Lance knows better than to let him divert Lance’s attention.

“There’s no way Lotor with his pretty boy hands was the only culprit. Who the hell were you picking a fight with this time?”

Keith chews at the inside of his cheek, opting to take out his pent up anger on the ground as he fixes it with a fiery glare.

Pidge steps in for him then, pushing her circle glasses further up her nose. “The usual suspects.”

“Great,” Lance grumbles, never breaking his staring contest with Keith’s profile. “So now you wanna take on Lotor and his frat buddies. All of whom are very rich… And can hire very. Good. Attorneys.”

“Lance.” Hunk sets a hand on Lance’s back, offering a sympathetic look that makes Lance’s hunched shoulders deflate. “I know you’re mad, but do you really wanna do this out here?”

It’s then that Lance realizes he’s making a scene, the crowd of people on the street gawking in their direction. And he also realizes that it’s making Keith antsy. That’s apparent in the way he starts shifting his shoulders in every which way and pales a little in the face.

“We’re the ones who let your boyfriend off his leash,” Pidge admits, saying “your boyfriend” like he’s now completely Lance’s responsibility. Saying it like she hasn’t been Keith’s best friend since the fifth grade.

Lance fishes his car keys from his back pocket, still trying to cool off from the anger burning something fierce in his chest. “You guys enjoy the rest of your night, okay? I’m gonna take Keith back to the apartment.”

“Are you sure? We can come with you,” Hunk offers, the concern never leaving his eyes for a moment.

“No, seriously, it’s fine. Besides, I thought I saw a familiar little curly girly named Shay head into that other bar a couple blocks from here.”

Hunk reddens just a little, but nods in agreement as Pidge makes some complaint about being a third wheel. In a mess of goodbyes and repeatedly reaching for Keith’s hand— his opposition to PDA is counterproductive given that he can’t walk by himself without stumbling— Lance finally gets the chance to unlock his car and slide into the driver’s seat. Keith flops down into the passenger’s seat next to him, pulling one leg up to rest his foot on the polyester as he plays absently with the laces on his high tops.

The drive home is silent, mostly because Lance can’t think of a decent lecture that won’t end in a two-way silent treatment, something that’s proven to be agonizing given they’re the only two living in a one-bedroom apartment. After Lance parks, helps Keith climb the stairs, and fumbles with the key in the lock, Keith finds a spot in their too small kitchen, sliding down the lower cabinets to sit cross-legged on the floor. Because apparently he’s a household pet.

Lance rifles through the freezer, snagging a bag of whatever’s packaged and frozen before all but chucking it onto one of Keith’s thighs. Keith seems to get the message, picking it up and hesitantly pressing it to his multi-colored face. Lance finds the place on the floor across from his boyfriend and sits back on his thighs, staring. For a long while, the only sounds in the room are the hum of the refrigerator and their neighbor’s dog yipping through the walls.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” Lance says it more rhetorically than anything.

Keith swallows hard, trying to cover up half of his face with vegetable medley. His voice is muffled by the plastic when he says, “About what?”

Lance rolls his eyes, shaking his head. He has half the mind to storm off into the bedroom and leave Keith to tend to his own wounds. But being a middle sibling of six has taught him patience if nothing else, so he counts to ten again. “About why your face looks like a Goya painting,” he deadpans.

Keith fidgets under Lance’s gaze. His knuckles would be white if they weren’t bruised too. “You know how your asshole ex is.”

“Keith, you have got to pull your head out of the Middle Ages! I’m not some damsel in distress whose honor you have to defend.” Though Lance would admit it was hot the first time… But seeing Keith beat up with dried blood caked all over his features every other weekend is starting to look less suave and James Deany and more thoughtless.

Keith drops the bag of frozen vegetables. Then his nose twitches. To the untrained eye, it would go unnoticed, but Lance has been dating him for two years and three months. And a nose twitch means that Keith’s hiding something.

“But this has nothing to do with that, does it?”

“Lance, would you just let it go—”

“Okay, fine. You want me to let this one go? Then we can talk about last week. Or the week before that. Or the week before that.”

Keith tries for a glare then, a practiced stare that looks like flames are licking at his irises, but Lance is immune from prolonged exposure.

“And I know you’re not that drunk, so let’s not act like this was impulse alone.”

When Keith shrugs off his jacket and tosses it across the room, Lance sees that the bruises aren’t just on his face. His heart jumps up to his throat as the sound of the ice machine crunches in the background.

“Would you just tell me why you’re being more of a brooding edgelord than usual? Why do you have to be so emotionally constipated?” He places either hand on Keith’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eye. “Let me be your laxative.”

“You really have a knack for making up the world’s most disgusting metaphors.”

“It’s a gift. I’m thinking of turning it into a career path.”

“Stick to astrophysics.”

“Stop changing the subject.” It’s clear that neither of them is budging, so Lance just arches a brow and asks, “Do I have to call Shiro?”

Keith slams his back further into the cabinets with a groan. The older brother card is always the trump card. “Do not tell Shiro about this, please. I’m still getting lectures about my stupid cafeteria fights in high school.”

“Then tell me what’s going on! I thought when we said we were gonna be more open with each other, it was gonna be a two-way street. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Nothing’s going on, Lance, okay? I hate your ex-boyfriend and his stupid frat bro sidekicks, and I shouldn’t have had that last shot of moonshine, alright?”

While it is incredibly tempting to comment on the moonshine bit, Lance holds off. Because something else catches his eye. Crossing his arms over his chest, he refuses to break eye contact, giving Keith just a few more moments to tell him the truth. The clock ticks away, and there’s nothing. “You’re biting your lip,” he says finally.

“So?”

“So, one, stop it; it’s busted and you’re gonna hurt yourself. And two, that means you’re not telling me something.”

“Would you quit psychoanalyzing me!?”

Patience be damned. Something in Lance snaps then, something that makes his teeth grind and heat bubble in his chest. His fists tremble a little before he throws his hands out to his sides and starts getting to his feet. “Fine, you know what? Fine. Forget I asked. God forbid someone try to care about you, Keith, damn.”

He steps to leave, but as soon as he does, Keith clasps a hand onto his wrist and pulls just a little. The moment Lance turns his head, eyes sharp with ice and prickling rage, he feels his heart jump. The anger slowly trickles out of his system, sending a shiver down his spine. Keith looks a little broken, shoulders squared and eyes pleading in a way that’s so unlike him it makes something in the back of Lance’s head scream.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just… You’re gonna think I’m bat-shit.”

Lance exhales low and deep, turning fully and sitting back down across from Keith. He sets a gentle hand on Keith’s knee, trying to get him to make eye contact. “Try me.”

Keith’s mental illness has been the elephant in the room, always noticed but never talked about. Because Keith refused to talk about it. It took a full year’s convincing, mostly on Shiro’s end, just to get him to start seeing help. Some days he was a mess of the emotions he never learned how to process, and Lance would try his best to be there for him. Other days were better. Other days he was just silent and spacey and tried not to cry.

“No one knows this, okay? Not even Shiro, not even my goddamn shrink, so you can’t…” He trails off, and Lance tries to squeeze his knee in support.

“Keith… Keith, look at me…” When Keith looks up, his eyes are growing misty, pink rings already apparent on the brims of his eyes. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Offering a weak nod, Keith takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he forces himself to speak. “I just… I thought that maybe… Y’know how sometimes people… I don’t know, I thought if I was… Fuck.” He holds up his hands before Lance can say anything, blinking away whatever tears form in his eyes before he lets out a breath and continues. “I thought if I could feel, I don’t know, pain… If I could feel anything I’d stop feeling like…” Keith clamps his teeth down on his lower lip again. Whatever tears he blinks away only come back.

Lance sighs, reaching out his thumb to slip Keith’s lip from his teeth’s grasp. “Keith, you can cry—”

“No, I can’t,” Keith starts, though his voice trembles despite himself. “Because if I start I won’t stop. And I just— Fuck, I just need to say it.” Lance can practically feel the frustration radiating off of the other in waves. With a steady breath, he takes a hand in Keith’s, holding it to his chest and letting Keith know he has Lance’s full attention. Keith hisses in another breath and tries again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… Lately, it’s just like, like nothing is fucking real, and I can talk and hear and touch things, but it’s like I’m not really there. Like I’m in some weird dream world, and I’m just watching myself or something. Or like everything’s not really there, or maybe it is, and I’m just not a part of it… I don’t know, it feels like I’m going insane.”

“Keith…” Lance doesn’t know where to go from there, watching his boyfriend struggle around his words with a pain sinking into Lance’s chest.

“Sometimes I don’t think I even sound like me… Like when I talk, it’s some kind of automated computer message, y’know? And I went home for Christmas. And I thought… I don’t know, I thought being home and in my own bed might make me feel normal again. But it didn’t. And nothing feels normal, nothing feels… Damn it, I’m going insane.” That’s when Keith’s face twists, twists into something that’s a punch to Lance’s gut. And Keith is squinting his eyes closed, sniffling loudly before a sob emits from his throat.

“You know… You don’t have to be so strong all the time…” Lance says in a whisper, tucking a strand of Keith’s hair behind his ear.

Keith looks up at him, eyes watery as he sobs again, pressing his face into Lance’s chest. Lance wraps his arms around him instinctively, feeling Keith shake, choking and whimpering against him. Lance can only hold him closer, shushing him tenderly as Keith claws at the back of Lance’s shirt, gripping onto the fabric like he’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Each broken little noise that leaves Keith is another twist in Lance’s heart, and he doesn’t dare let go.

“It’s okay, you’re okay…” Lance coos, pressing tender kisses on the top of Keith’s hair. “You’re okay, baby… You’re okay…”

Keith doesn’t stop weeping, not until his throat is raw and all he can do is let silent tears roll down his cheeks as he snivels and tries to breathe normally again.

By the time he leans back, sniffling and rubbing under his eyes with the back of his palm, there’s a wet patch on Lance’s T-shirt. Lance doesn’t mind, too busy trying to read Keith’s expression, setting a hand on the back of his neck.

“Do you feel any better?” Lance asks softly, ducking his head into Keith’s line of sight.

Keith nods his head slowly, wiping his nose with the white cotton of his T-shirt with another wet snivel. “Sorry about your shirt.”

Lance snorts, rolling his eyes just a little. “I have other shirts.”

“Yeah.” Keith’s breath shudders once more as he collects himself and blinks the wetness from his puffy eyes, tears caught on his eyelashes. “I’m just sorry I—”

“No. No… We agreed no more apologizing about this.”

“No, you said ‘Keith, stop apologizing every time you cry.’”

“Okay, smartass.” Lance rises to his feet, offering his hands and pulling Keith up along with him. With a steady breath, he places a gentle kiss on the corner of Keith’s lips, mindful to avoid the forming scab. “Thank you… For sharing that with me.”

Keith nods solemnly, probably thinking something snarky about how Lance is talking like his therapist. So Lance goes for a subject change, placing his hands at the base of Keith’s neck.

“How about you wash your face and pick out a movie, alright?”

They spend the rest of the night tangled up in each other, Lance refusing to move his arms from Keith’s waist even as Keith awkwardly holds an icepack to his face. Eventually, they drift to sleep, heart beats pumping in time while Lance tries his best to whisper words of comfort.

“I love you… And you’re here. Even if your mind’s playing tricks on you. You’re here, and you’re with me. And I love you…”

[kristinsimmons]

Dr. Jonathan Cusack versus the General Medical Council

By SAURABH JHA

  I spoke with Dr. Jonathan Cusack, consultant neonatologist at Leicester Royal Infirmary (LRI), and former supervisor and mentor of Dr. Bawa-Garba, the trainee pediatrician convicted of manslaughter for delayed diagnosis of fatal sepsis in Jack Adcock, a six-year-old boy with Down’s syndrome. We had drinks at The George, pub opposite the Royal Courts of Justice.

In the first part of the interview we discussed the events on Friday February 18th, 2011, the day of Jack presented to LRI. In the second part of the interview we talk about the events after fatal Friday – how the crown prosecution service got involved, the trial, the manslaughter charge, the tribunal and the General Medical Council.

  The Role of Dr. O’Riordan

Saurabh Jha (SJ): After Jack’s death what was Dr. Bawa-Garba’s immediate reaction?

Jonathan Cusack (JC): I think it’s one of those moments one neither forgets nor recalls. I imagine the most overwhelming feeling was one of incredulity. How and why did Jack decompensate? It’d have struck her as physiologically implausible. Though she was experiencing that grief familiar to all pediatricians when a child dies, she was trying to understand why. She didn’t know that he died from Group A Streptococcal septicemia, then.

SJ: She had no idea of the storm brewing.

JC: No one had any idea of the storm brewing, for quite some time. No one could have predicted the predicament we find ourselves in today.

SJ: But did Dr. O’Riordan, her consultant, intuit?

JC: What do you mean?

SJ: Did he correctly intuit the significance of events?

JC: To be fair, I don’t think even he knew the magnitude of the storm that was heading her way.

SJ: So, let’s get back to Dr. O’Riordan – I’m assuming you’re comfortable talking about him.

JC: I’m happy to discuss O’Riordan’s role. Let’s make sure we distinguish between fact and conjecture.

SJ: Let’s get back to the handover, 4 pm – Dr. Bawa-Garba met Dr. O’Riordan. Did he offer to see Jack?

JC: No he didn’t. And neither did Hadiza ask him to see Jack.

SJ: But Dr. Bawa-Garba told him about Jack’s original blood gas? He knew that the lactate was 11 in the 1st set of gases.

JC: Not at the time the bloods were drawn – he was in Warwick then. He was told during handover at 4 pm. So, he’s right in saying he had no idea about Jack’s original presentation. Also, when Hadiza informed him, Jack was improving.

SJ: That’s sort of my point. What I’m trying to get at isn’t that Dr. O’Riordan should be held responsible for Jack’s death instead of Dr. Bawa-Garba. Rather, Jack’s improving metabolic status would reassure any reasonable pediatrician that Dr. Bawa-Garba’s management of Jack wasn’t unreasonable. In fact, I don’t think it’s too outlandish for consultants to rely on registrars or competent senior house officers to tell them which patients need their review – that’s certainly the NHS I remember. However, what’s unacceptable is when a trainee is unsupported by the consultant if things go wrong.

Can you explain how Dr. O’Riordan counselled Dr. Bawa-Garba after Jack’s death?

JC: A few days after Jack’s death, O’Riordan met a distraught Hadiza. He spoke to her about Jack and what might have gone wrong and what she could have been done better.

SJ: Which is what a consultant should do. Nothing wrong with that.

JC: He completed a “Training encounter form” and catalogued the errors Hadiza made in managing Jack. He asked her to sign the form – which made her uneasy. Then he asked her to take some time off from clinical services.

SJ: He suspended her? Was that within his jurisdiction?

JC: In extreme circumstances a trainee can be taken off duty, and it’s technically not a “suspension.”

SJ: And, you can see how Dr. O’Riordan’s actions have two interpretations. One is that he’s a transparent truth seeker who sought justice for Jack. The other is that he was signaling his displeasure with Dr. Bawa-Garba and distancing himself from her, so that he could legitimately say “sorry, I had no idea Jack was near death’s door. It was all her fault, guv.” I really want to give him the benefit of the doubt but it’s hard.

Did he move to Ireland to escape the aftermath of the trial?

JC: That’s conjecture. He’s Irish – he may always have planned to return to Ireland. He might not have “fled.”

The Crown Prosecution Service

SJ: I should clarify something – I always thought it was the Adcocks who pursued the case against Dr. Bawa-Garba. I was wrong.

JC: No, it wasn’t the Adcocks who pressed charges against Hadiza, it was the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS). I think you’re likening this to the American tort system where the patient sues the doctor. To be clear, this wasn’t a case of civil tort, it was a criminal charge.

SJ – Why did the CPS bring charges against her. After Jack’s death Dr. Bawa-Garba was interrogated by the police. Is this standard practice? Am I confusing the police with the CPS?

JC – There are many routine things after a child dies in a hospital, unexpectedly. The police do get involved – that’s nothing personal against Hadiza. They’re just making sure there is nothing suspicious about the child’s death. Also, the police decided that there was no case to pursue. The case was referred to the coroner – again this is nothing personal or unusual. LRI also did their due diligence. They identified several system issues which needed correcting.

SJ – Sure. But a distraught trainee, unsupported by her consultant, made to confess errors for the death of a child for which she’s suffering regret, now gets grilled by the police. I don’t think we’re making acute medicine sound enticing for future doctors. What was Dr. Bawa-Garba feeling then?

JC – She was lonely and frightened, unable to sleep at night. It was then she reached out to me – I had worked with her before. But as distraught as Hadiza was, neither she nor I in our wildest nightmares expected a charge of manslaughter.

SJ – What was the turning point? I mean, what single event led to the charge?

JC – The turning point was the coroner’s inquest. The expert witness at the coroner’s inquest, a pediatric intensivist, after vigorous questioning from the coroner claimed that Jack’s death was preventable, that Hadiza’s clinical judgment was subpar, and her poor management of Jack contributed to his death. The coroner’s report set rolling the ball which later became an avalanche.

SJ – “Preventable” is a broad term. But, let me recap what you’re saying – that “preventable” and “below par clinical performance” are all it took for the CPS to press manslaughter charges against Dr. Bawa-Garba?

JC –In England, you don’t need to prove “intention to harm” or that one’s actions are “willful” or “deliberate” to be charged with manslaughter. You just need to prove that a physician’s gross negligence contributed to death.

SJ – Then, why were you so shocked that the CPS charged her with manslaughter?

JC – I should have been clearer. I was surprised that neither the coroner nor the expert witness made any allowance for the fact that Jack died from Group A Streptococcus – it should have been known to physicians in general, and pediatricians in particular, that this organism is very dangerous, and has a high mortality even with the best of care.

SJ – And this is one of the many tautologies in this case which the law can’t deal with. If Jack faced an organism which demanded such immediate action for a fighting chance of survival that a delay of three hours in starting the antibiotics could be the difference between life and death, then it’s conceivable that Jack’s fate was already sealed by the time he arrived in LRI. That is, the more preventable one deems Jack’s death the less likely the delayed administration of antibiotics contributed to it. An analogy I’d use is crossing a road in a residential area with a car hurtling towards you – your reflexes are more likely to help you avoid a car traveling at 30 mph than 80 mph.

The Trial

SJ – I’d love to discuss the intricacies of the trial, but I know you have to catch your train to Leicester, so I will focus on the salient parts.

JC – I wasn’t there for most of the trial as I was one of the witnesses for the defense, and I wasn’t allowed to hear the proceedings before I took stand, in case I’d be biased. There are many details I can’t recount first hand.

SJ – The most important question I have – did Dr. Bawa-Garba’s reflections indict her?

JC – This is controversial.

SJ – I know. I was taken to task by some enthusiastic safety advocates in the NHS that I was spreading fake news by suggesting that her confessions were used against her, like in a medieval court.

JC – It’s not fake news, it’s a technicality. And it’s important to understand the technicality. The jury weren’t shown her reflections, but they were seen by the prosecution and therefore ‘fed into’ the trial. Her defense team were technically right in saying that her reflections weren’t adduced by the jury.

SJ – But it seems like a distinction without a difference, legal pettifoggery. I’m not sure junior doctors will be comforted knowing only the prosecution, not the jury, will have access to their reflections, in the event they’re ever charged with manslaughter.

JC – I understand why the safety movement is concerned. It’s a blow to patient safety and sets its mission back by several years. The point of the trainee reflection is to improve the care for the next patient, not destroy the career of a doctor.

SJ – At the conclusion of the legal arguments in the trial, what did the judge instruct the jury to do?

JC – Justice Nichol asked the jury to find Hadiza guilty if they thought that the care she delivered to Jack was “truly exceptionally bad.”

SJ – Now we get to the crux of the charge. What exactly did the prosecution, with the help of the expert witness, insinuate about Dr. Bawa-Garba’s care that made it “truly exceptionally bad.” Surely, they did not suggest that her failure to give Jack antibiotics instantly is a criminal offense.

JC – No, that was not the gross failure, according to the prosecution, though they alleged that a series of failures did indeed delay the antibiotics. They listed several failures, including delay in seeing the chest radiograph she ordered.

SJ – And you so eloquently explained why she got to the chest x-ray late in the first part of our interview – she wasn’t updating her status on Facebook; she was performing a lumbar puncture.

JC – The major flaws, the ones which made her “truly exceptionally bad” – were her failure to appreciate Jack’s initial clinical presentation and the significance of the elevated lactate and creatinine.

SJ – You’re pulling my leg. She was charged for manslaughter for having a differential diagnosis for shock, and for putting hypovolemic shock at the top of the differential? For not responding to laboratory parameters when they may be at odds with a patient’s improving clinical condition? Are we going to permanently euthanize the adage “treat the patient not the lab results”?

JC – It was argued that the lactate and creatinine were red flags for sepsis which any competent doctor should know.

SJ – But that’s patently incorrect. I’m a radiologist but even I know, from recollection of my final exams, that dehydration can lower the ph and elevate the creatinine. There is something known as pre-renal renal failure, FFS!

I need another drink.

JC – Me too.

(JC gets a pint of bitter and I get a triple gin with tonic)

SJ – One could, with hindsight, also make the case that an elevated creatinine was a sign that Jack was entering multi-organ failure, and his prognosis by the afternoon was dismal. Anyway, did no one explain that an elevated creatinine does not necessarily mean sepsis?

JC – It’s not as simple as that – I assume you have, touch wood, never been inside a court. Legal reasoning is very different from medical reasoning. Once you know the outcome, once you know that a child died, it’s hard mitigating the significance of events along the path to a patient’s death – it sounds like you’re making excuses, and a skilled barrister will take you apart, and make you appear clueless and incompetent to a jury. Hadiza fell apart in the cross examination. She’s not very good at sticking up for herself.

SJ – I realize courts are not like multiple choice questions in medical examinations. In the court you know the answer – there’s no uncertainty about what actually happened. Still, many people are surprised by her defense – could they not have mounted a more clinically insightful defense of her?

JC – Some do wonder whether her defense could have been better. But the nuances that you have cited are better suited to the blameless environments of root cause analysis, than the inherently adversarial environment of law courts.

SJ – Did the jury consider system issues – like the IT system being down, Dr. Bawa-Garba being new to the children’s assessment unit, her covering more than what’s typically on the menu, the inexperience of doctors on her service?

JC – This, too, is controversial – I mean the extent to which the jury considered system issues in mitigating, or inculpating, her will never be known – we can’t cross examine jurors – this is the bedrock of our legal system. You could say that the fact that Hadiza was convicted of manslaughter meant the jury did not consider system factors. Or that Hadiza was convicted despite the jury knowing about the systemic issues. Or that the jury took system factors into consideration whilst convicting her. There’s no way of knowing which of the three is true. I’m sorry – it’ll be a permanent unknown for us.

SJ – It’s time to bring Dr. O’Riordan back. I assume he didn’t take stand for the defense.

JC – He said during the trial that Hadiza hadn’t impressed upon him the significance of Jack’s clinical condition and had she done he would have assessed Jack. There was an implication that Jack could have lived if he had assessed him, so Hadiza’s failure to involve him was yet another example of how her care was “truly exceptionally bad.”

SJ – He truly threw her under the bus. But we encounter another tautology. She didn’t ask Dr. O’Riordan to assess Jack because she thought Jack was on the mend. It wasn’t a separate error but followed from her judgment, wrong in retrospect, that Jack was improving. Otherwise, it is like repeatedly saying “you were wrong because you were wrong.”

JC – Be that as it may. However, the legal reasoning was that just because O’Riordan might have been wrong didn’t make Hadiza right.

SJ – I get that. Two wrongs don’t make a right but two wrongs do make each wrong less wrong. Had Dr. O’Riordan acknowledged, right in the beginning, that Jack’s metabolic profile was consistent with hypovolemic shock, it might have given credence to the fact that Dr. Bawa-Garba had not egregiously erred in her management of Jack.

I want to ask something about Dr. Bawa-Garba – it has been said that she never apologized to Jack’s parents. Is that true?

JC – She did apologize to Jack’s mother after his death – i.e. she said she was sorry for his death. She also apologized in writing through her lawyer at the time – but the family never received this.

But the question, I think you��re asking is – did she specifically apologize for making errors in Jack’s care? That wouldn’t be so much an apology as an admission of guilt, and it’s something defense lawyers, rightly or wrongly, advise against. The adversarial nature of the legal system in cases like Jack’s pits family and physicians against each other.

People also remarked that Hadiza did not look at Jack’s mother during the trial, that she seemed indifferent. They don’t know what was going on inside Hadiza’s mind. I do. After the jury found her guilty, she came to court the next day to hear the sentencing. She said goodbye to her children, arranged for childcare, and was carrying a large suitcase with all her clothes because she thought she would be taken straight from the court to jail. As she was waiting for Justice Nicol to announce the sentence, she wasn’t being indifferent – she was staring nervously at the Koran she had in her hand, praying to Allah for leniency. This was the eventuality for a person who wanted to be a doctor since the age of thirteen, whose mission was to take care of sick children.

SJ – Heart breaking. The British public need to treat their doctors with less vituperation, otherwise they’ll get the shortage of doctors they deserve.

Tribunal

SJ – Some 18 months after being convicted of manslaughter, and receiving a suspended sentence, Dr. Bawa-Garba faced the Medical Practitioners Tribunal (MPT). This independent body met to determine her fitness to practice. Your role was significant here. Can you explain?

JC – After being convicted of manslaughter, Hadiza’s confidence plummeted even further. As I mentioned, she was mercilessly cross examined and fell apart during the cross examination. Hadiza asked me to give evidence about her performance, training and remediation as she wasn’t planning to give evidence on the stand.

SJ – That was quite a burden on your shoulders. In a sense, you were batting for her. How did you prepare for that?

JC – After Jack’s death Hadiza worked at LRI with varying levels of supervision – on the wards and in the clinics. We put her through many simulations about sick kids presenting with undifferentiated symptoms. She did several practice tests. Very few pediatric registrars read or knew more than her. Needless to say she devoured tomes on sepsis. I collected a mountain of evidence, objective evidence, that she was a safe and competent pediatrician. Defending her was easy.

SJ – I think you’re being modest. I heard they had you on the stand for over 6 hours, and you were relentlessly grilled about Dr. Bawa-Garba. Can you tell us about a few questions you were asked?

JC – What they were trying to do was to see if I would undermine the jury decision – which I wasn’t going to. To put this more clearly, the tribunal is not a retrial, and the tribunal absolutely can’t go against, or be seen to undermine, a jury decision. They are very conscious about that. If I had ranted against the jury decision – that the conviction of manslaughter was a travesty – it would have hurt Hadiza.

SJ – Essentially you had to vouch for Dr. Bawa-Garba’s clinical competence whilst respecting the jury’s decision convicting her of manslaughter for gross incompetence. How did you walk this tight rope?

JC – It wasn’t easy – as you can appreciate, logical consistency can get you into rabbit holes. What I said was that Hadiza had remediated and because of her remediation she was low risk – or no higher risk than other pediatric registrars. To be honest, I believe Hadiza is one of the safest pediatricians around, precisely because Jack’s death motivated her to an extraordinary degree of learning.

SJ – And the tribunal’s deliberations have the fingerprints of your defense. They, too, acknowledged and respected the jury decision, said that she had indeed erred, but her erring was not irremediable.

JC – The only way the tribunal could absolve her without facing a legal cognitive dissonance with the jury trial was to suspend her license for a year. We felt a sense of victory at the tribunal – victory because Hadiza hadn’t been struck off.

The General Medical Council

SJ – But the victory was short lived. The GMC were indefatigable in their desire to snatch Dr. Bawa-Garba’s medical license, ostensibly to maintain public confidence in the medical profession.

JC – The GMC appealed against the tribunal’s decision because they felt that the tribunal had over stepped its role. Specifically, they felt that by only suspending Hadiza for a year, and not removing her from the medical register, the tribunal had undermined the jury decision. The provisional court sided with the GMC. Today’s appeal is against the decision of the provisional courts.

SJ – To be clear to the readers, this is not an appeal against the manslaughter conviction, as unjust as that was, but against the successful appeal of the GMC, who appealed the recommendations of their own tribunal. This is really a case of GMC versus MPT, rather than GMC versus Dr. Bawa-Garba.

There is one thing else I want to point out which may or may not be relevant to this case. Doctors from ethnic minorities are excessively deferential to hierarchy and institutions. We are repeatedly told by our elders, when growing up, that we should not rock the boat, that we should be grateful that we’re living in Britain, grateful and honored that we’re physicians. Many people from my culture tend to be deferential to authority, though I am a mutant in this regard. This is why doctors from such cultures can so easily find themselves unstuck when errors happen.

  The Aftermath

SJ – This case is pivotal for the NHS. If the court sides with the GMC who gains?

JC – This case is one of those pyrrhic victories in which no one wins. Everyone has lost here – the Adcocks, Hadiza, pediatrics, junior doctors, the NHS, British legal system, the MPT, patient safety, transparency, public confidence. But the biggest losers are the GMC. The profession’s confidence in their regulatory body will take years to mend.

SJ – How do you feel about the Adcocks?

JC – I have immense sympathy for them – they have been through the worst thing that any parent can imagine. Losing a child is devastating. I have no words to describe their grief.

SJ – The GMC haven’t helped their grief. In a sense they have behaved like Iago – fueling angst.

JC – You might have heard the story of Elaine Bromiley, the lady who died because she could not be intubated during elective surgery. Her husband, Martin Bromiley, an airline pilot, insisted on an inquiry, not to enter an interminable legal blame game, but so that others could learn from what went wrong. He realized that his wife died not because any individual was at fault, but because the system was at fault. He spread the wisdom of the inquiry to other hospitals. He formed the Clinical Human Factors Group. His wife’s death made the system safer.

Patients like Jack are rare. Some general pediatricians might not see even a single patient like Jack in their careers. We missed a golden opportunity to learn from Jack’s death. Instead of investing time and resources into improving systems and understanding human factors in errors, we’re spending money playing a legal blame game. What a waste.

SJ – I have to say that this case has raised my respect for the American safety movement. Sure, they exaggerate the number of deaths from medical errors. But to their credit they have always blamed systems, rather than individual doctors.

JC – There is much we can learn from the Americans.

SJ – Hindsight is 20/20 but if there was one thing Dr. Bawa-Garba could have done differently what should that have been?

JC – Ask her consultant for help. I’ll say this to all junior doctors in acute medicine – don’t hesitate to ask for help. If in doubt, ask. If in doubt, err on the side of asking frivolously.

SJ – But I think it’s important to emphasize that her not asking her consultant for help wasn’t a sign of hubris, but humility and strong work ethic. I remember from my days as a surgical senior house officer that I was reluctant to ask the registrar or consultant for help, not because of pride, but so that I didn’t shirk my responsibilities.

JC – I must dash to St. Pancras.

SJ – One last question before you leave. Why? Why did you help Dr. Bawa-Garba? Why did you spend countless, at least two hundred, hours of your spare time helping her? When most doctors, even the reasonable ones, would have justifiably distanced themselves from a doctor convicted of manslaughter, why did you still support her?

JC – Hadiza is a competent pediatrician. She’s an above average doctor. She thinks of little else other than medicine. I would not be here today in the Royal Courts of Justice if I didn’t think that the British public would lose out if Hadiza lost her medical license. I’m just doing my job.

About the Author:

Saurabh Jha is a radiologist and contributing editor to THCB. He was once a junior doctor in the NHS. He can be reached on Twitter @RogueRad

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