#so i can look for sharks worldwide too

[fiskki]

day 1 freediving (babys first sport in adulthood)

did not meet sharks yet made friends with a blowfish and then a crab jumped in my face 8/10 need a better mask

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: basking shark

I'm not feeling too motivated today, so, I'm going to discuss another animal that likes to take it easy: the basking shark. This shark decided it's not into that whole "hunt down prey and fight to live" thing and decided to become a filter feeder instead. It seems to have worked out too, as basking sharks can be found worldwide and are the second largest fish, surpassed only by the whale shark. There is only one extant species of basking shark, but a few extinct species have been discovered.

(image id: a basking shark seen from the side. It is a large, brown shark with a large head and pointed snout. Its mouth is closed)

Cetorhinus maximus is one of only 3 species of filter-feeding shark, the others being the whale shark and the awesomely-named megamouth shark. Basking sharks average 8 meters (26 ft) in length, but can reach up to 11 meters (36 ft). An average adult weighs around 4650 kg (5 tons). They have a typical shark body shape (which has led to them being mistaken for great white sharks), but the mouth anatomy is different. The mouth can open up to a meter wide and appears toothless, though it is actually filled with tiny, conical teeth that appear to serve no purpose in adults. The gill slits are longer than in most shark species and almost completely encircle the head. Like other filter-feeding fish, the basking shark's gills are also used to catch its food. It swims forward with its mouth open and as water passed over the gills, zooplankton and small invertebrates and fish will get caught in the gill rakers, from where they can be swallowed. The basking shark's favorite food is copepods of the order Calanoida, though they will also target other copepods. They can detect their prey with electroreception like other sharks. Because plankton is not known for being fast and adult basking sharks have no natural predators, they aren't known for being particularly speedy. A basking shark on the hunt moves at a blistering 3 km/hr (1.9mph). They can move in fast bursts of speed and occasionally can jump clear out of the water. It's not 100% clear why they breach, but it seems to have a few benefits. It can help dislodge parasites (which is a big issue for basking sharks. They are often covered with scars from lampreys and cookie-cutter sharks) and notably they breach more during mating season, so it may also be used for sexual display. Breaching and the resulting splash may also be used for long-distance communication and threat displays. I remember being a kid watching Shark Week and being told by the TV that great whites are the only shark species that breach and that was just not even remotely true. The basking shark has the lowest brain to body weight ratio of any shark.

(image id: a basing shark seen from the front with its mouth open. The mouth is very large and white on the inside. Its gill slits can be seen from the inside, looking like large slits in the side of the mouth)

(video: a basking shark leaping out of the water multiple times)

The name basking shark comes from their typical behavior. They swim slowly at the surface of the water while feeding, leading to sailors thinking they were basking in the sun. They were commonly called sunfish, but the name is no longer commonly used to avoid confusion with the ocean sunfish. While swimming at the surface, they sometimes spin around or swim belly-up. Basking sharks are migratory, traveling toward the poles in summer and toward the equator in winter. It was formerly believed that they hibernated over the winter, but it is now known that they spend their time in deep water. While migrating and in summer, basking sharks display social behavior. They will shoal in groups hundreds strong and can often be found in small groups of similarly-sized fish, usually of the same sex. Not much is known about basking shark mating. They are ovoviviparous, with eggs hatching internally and developing further inside the mother before the pups are born. Gestation is believed to take between 1 and 3 years and a few large pups are born at a time. Pregnant females are very rarely seen and they may spend their time in deep water. There is only a single reported example of a pregnant female being caught and it has 6 pups. The seemingly useless teeth may actually be used in utero, as the unborn pups likely feed on unfertilized eggs after their yolk sacs are consumed. This adaptation has been observed in other ovoviviparous sharks. While females have two ova, only the right one actually functions. The lifespan of basking sharks is estimated to be around 50 years.

(image id: a group of 14 basking sharks swimming in a circle, seed form above. It is believed that this is a mating display)

(image id: a juvenile basking shark seen from above. It can be distringuished from an adult by the snout, which is sharp and hooked)

Basking sharks are classified as endangered by the IUCN. They has historically been hunted for their meat, hides, fatty livers, and fins. While there is currently no commercial fishery of basking sharks, they are poached for their fins and have not recovered from overexploitation. Bycatch is an ongoing problem for the sharks. Multiple countries have enacted conservation efforts including legal protection and the enactment of protected areas where fishing is prohibited. Basking sharks pose no threat to humans. They also do not fear humans and have even been known to approach and swim around divers. Basking sharks also appear a lot in the pseudoscience of cryptozoology. I can go into why cryptozoology is a pseudoscience in more detail in another post, but its the study of alleged animals not recognized by science. Basking sharks show up a lot as globsters, unidentified corpses that wash up on beaches or are caught in fishing nets. Basking sharks are responsible for a lot of globsters due to the way their corpses decay. Large amounts of decay happen around the head, which can lead to the mandible bones hanging loose or detaching and the snout decaying to look like a small head on a neck. In addition, the claspers (reproductive organs) of male basking sharks are very large and can be mistaken for limbs. One likely example of this is the Stronsay beast of 1808. Described as a six-legged decaying sea serpent, it is likely that the legs were actually the jaw bones, fins, and claspers of a male basing shark. A more recent example is the Zuiyo-Maru plesiosaur (warning: picture below and it's gross). This carcass was pulled up by the Japanese fishing boat Zuiyō-Maru in 1977 and based on the pictures taken and the word of two Japanese scientists, was thought by some to be an example of a recently-deceased plesiosaur. While the carcass itself was thrown back overboard, some samples were taken for analysis and based on them and anatomical detains from the pictures, it was concluded that the carcass is actually a heavily-decayed basking shark. The "neck" of the carcass is the spine and brain case with the jaws having decayed and fallen off. Further anatomical details such as the presence of cartilage in the fins and body proportions support the carcass being a fin and do not support it being a plesiosaur.

(Image id: top: the Zuiyo-Maru carcass, a large, decomposed carcass hanging rom a hook. It appears to have a long neck and fins. Bottom: a diagram comparing the anatomical features of the carcass and a fresh basking shark)

[mikeyscontextuals]

Research On Your Allocated Animal.

Visual Reference and development:

The Great White shark is a fascinating beast, to say the least. I wast so very happy that this is what was given to me for this brief.

I have to say that before being tasked with this assignment I knew as much about Great Whites as the next person, but having done the necessary research for this assignment, I realized they are even more interesting than I could have ever imagined.

Mexico, Guadalupe, Pacific Ocean, scuba divers in shark cage with white shark, Carcharodon carcharias, in the foreground.

We all know where we’ve heard about them, Steven Spielberg did a great job in ruining their reputation worldwide, using them as the antagonist for the movie franchise “Jaws”, which was all about psychotic, borderline homicidal Great White shark encounters, which couldn’t be less true for a great deal of reasons. They still look very homicidal by default however.

“Jaws” is an American thriller movie, directed by Steven Spielberg, based on a 1974 novel, that was released in the year of 1975. It’s set in Amity Island, New England, and is about a set of, at first, mysterious disappearances at the local beach, which are proven to be the works of none other than one of our trusted Great Whites.

I’m not standing here as an advocate for their amicableness though, they really do look like the perfect killing machine, being the largest predatorial marine fish, but we’ll get into that right after with the factual information.

Factual Information (about the animal and the issue):

As I previously mentioned, the Great White Shark, or Carcharodon Carcharias, is the largest know to man predatorial fish, weighing anywhere between 4000 pounds (~1814 Kg), to 7000 pounds (~3175 Kg), and measuring between 16 feet (~4,87 meters) to 20 feet (~6,069 meters), making for undoubtedly intimidating creatures with their massive size and stature.

They possess a set of 300 razor sharp teeth, which is funny and ironic, because Great Whites do not chew their food, they rip their prey into mouth-sized pieces and swallow them whole!

Their massiveness and body shape are all too well thought though, for their torpedo shaped bodies are made for better and more effective cruises through the ocean for a larger duration of time, and occasionally they can even switch to high-speed burst when pursuing their prey, even leaping out of the water at times!

But as I mentioned, despite their menacing appearance, they are not as dangerous to us humans as the movies make it seem, funny enough, you are going to be surprised by some of the statistics:

               -In the United States, during a time span of 96 years, ranging from 1916 to 2011, there were 106 confirmed , unprovoked, Great White shark attacks, which included just 13 fatalities. According to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, in 2021 alone, there were 42,915 confirmed deaths due to fatal car crashes. Or maybe I can give you a more interesting example: According to the Governmental page for Natural Disasters and Severe Weather, you can find that between 2006 and 2011, on average, there were little over 140 confirmed lightning caused deaths in the United States of America;

               -On average, there is only about one Great White attack per year;

               -For every 1 human that is killed by a shark, about 25 million sharks are killed by humans;

               -For every beach attack that occurs, it is typically a juvenile Great White, for they feed closer to shore to prey on stingrays, fish and smaller animals that are more abundant and easier to catch.

And so we must ask ourselves once again: The Great White Shark, Monster or Victim? Personally, I think the statistics may answer this very well.

Investigation of other artists/designers who have taken on similar issues/subject matter:

Cherilyn Ramsey - @STOKED_CREATIVE

This artist focuses her will to break the misconceptions and people’s negative attitude towards sharks through her art, wanting to portray the critical state of our oceans, as well as the overall wellbeing of sharks.

Rachel Nutkins - @RACHELNUTKINSART

Much like the previous artist I showed you, Rachel Nutkins is driven by the way people portray sharks, and see them as this menacing cold blooded killing machine, and seeks to redirect people to the truth through her art, painting colorful bits of sharks in a less aggressive way than what they would normally be shown as. She sees sharks not as monsters that need to be hunted, but as important and essential parts of our ecosystem that should be protected and respected, not hunted down.

Blake Kanan - @CREATIVELY_BLAKE

And to top it all up, last but not least, Blake Kanan is an illustrator who uses a variety of media to convey his art, whether that is digital, traditional, graphic, logos, illustrations, the message is always the same: Portray the beauty of a shark’s design, so people see the animal as a piece of art, rather than a scary monster.

These were the three artists that interested me the most because it related directly to the key issue I was given about sharks: “Monster or Victim?”. There were certainly a few more good examples, but these ones fit perfectly.

Deeper contextual, critical, and conceptual thinking about the animal in question:

With all this research done, I believe I have a pretty good understanding not only of the outcome I want done, but of the path I will follow to reach it. This was without a doubt my favorite animal and issue out of all the papers given to the other students, and I am extremely happy its mine! My wish is to produce a final that will further help portray that they are indeed the victim, and not the monsters the world makes them to be, whether that’s in the Tv, the Cinema, but in the general media as well.

It is definitely harder to point out less intimidating features from a shark, because as we saw they are definitely not the most innocent looking fellows on this planet, and so smoothing that up is not my goal, for it would take away from what they are, and that is not where I want to be headed. Nonetheless, I still have a lot of studying to do to advance with my Graphic Media work for Paul, for I will do this animal some good, and not help further ruin his reputation.

I briefly browsed through the library search and plan on doing a more thorough scan for they seemed to have some good pieces about this subject, parallel to that I will also be going to the library to bring up some pieces on Shark biology, to help me develop this further in the most realistic way possible.

In the meantime, I’ll be conducting more studies about not only the animal, but is issues.

Until nextime!

Bibliography:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t82m6vPhsEA: “Great White Sharks of Guadalupe Island” | The National Geographic;

https://www.worldwildlife.org/species/great-white-shark: World Wide Fund For Nature (WWF): The Great White Shark;

https://open.spotify.com/episode/77gxjaTuNMJoa0ZQL2EjX0?si=64385d1fca2249d0 : The Great White Shark Experience Podcast, Episode 1- Eric and Allen;

https://brandongaille.com/32-rare-great-white-shark-attack-statistics: Great White Shark Statistics;

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Motor_vehicle_fatality_rate_in_U.S._by_year: Car Accident Statistics;

https://www.cdc.gov/disasters/lightning/victimdata.html- Fatal Lightning Strike Statistics;

https://www.themarinediaries.com/tmd-blog/ocean-artists-turning-sharks-into-art: Artists who focus on Shark art;

https://www.instagram.com/stoked_creative/ Cherylin Ramsey, Illustrator;

https://www.instagram.com/rachelnutkinsart/ Rachel Nutkins, Illustrator;

https://www.instagram.com/creatively_blake/ Nathan Blake, Illustrator.

[hongkongartman-mlee]

CY Leo Is Too Good To Be True: A Good Music Skill, A Good Look, A Good Family, A Good Academic Qualification And A Good Girlfriend: Being The World-renowned Harmonica Artist, What Can Be His Fears Of The Unknown?

In the mystery of music lie the secrets that a talent will spend his whole life to uncover. He likes to feel un-settled and has huge inventories of worries of the unknown. When trials of life, one after another, come to test his faith in art, doubt will be removed one day if he sets his ultimate hope in that he loves—art.

CY Leo (何卓彥) was born in 1994 and has never been tired of harmonica since the age of 6 when he started to learn the tunes from his father who is a well-known harmonica player in Hong Kong. The harmonica, also known as a mouth harp or mouth organ, is a free reed wind instrument in many genres, notably in blues, country and classical music. It was adapted from an old Chinese instrument called Sheng (笙) more than 1000 years ago.

We are only the stars and, of course, jealous of the moon: Leo, already possessing the talent of music, has a good look with the similar charm of Timothée Chalamet. He also has a great height, an impressive academic qualification (occupational therapy), an enviable family background in which both parents are medical professionals and his younger brother is a teacher, and finally a sweet girlfriend and they fly in pairs to wherever he performs.

Leo is a beautiful butterfly that is also a busy bee. He practises harmonica more than 3 hours a day. He makes online video lectures to teach people how to play harmonica. He produces harmonica concerts and CDs. He takes part in activities which promote community support for harmonica. The award given by Hong Kong Arts Development Council in 2020 is just a diamond Koh-i-Noor which glitters among many crown jewels that are already his other international awards. CY Leo is a supper for many female sharks. This is a figurative speech but you can know the degree of his popularity that I am referring to. Leo was not mad at my joke and responded politely, “I am simply a lucky man!”

I asked Leo, “Are you too good to be true? I just attended your concert. Your music is totally stylistic! The audience was respectful of your work.” He faltered, “Currently, things for me are too good to be true. But, fears of the unknown have the power to trouble my heart, over and over again.” I was puzzled and raised the question, “What kind of fear?” He replied seriously, “I am a family man. I love to be as closely as possible with my family. After I get married and have kids, I guess my wife and children cannot fly with me to do worldwide performances. The hotel room empty of them will be the saddest place.”

He continued, “What is at a peak is sure to go down. If I lose my popularity one day and earn substantially less, shall I be able to survive and have enough money to be a breadwinner? Where can I get bacon to bring home?” I asked, “So?” He said, “I think I need to be a music teacher at the same time so that I can add another string to my bow.” I remarked, “Always remember: as a top musician, your focus will determine your success. I am a lawyer and writer. I sometimes do think I am neither here nor there.”  

Leo thought about it for a while, “Stable income matters but I shall definitely not treat pop music as my career. I do play pop music from time to time so as to bridge serious music and popular taste. I want to remain a fine art musician. I love harmonica. It is light, easy, handy and affordable. It should be music for everyone especially youngsters. They can talk to the music when they are happy or moody—anywhere, just getting a harmonica out of the pocket. The sound quality of harmonica is close to that of a human voice. When you play harmonica, it seems like someone singing side by side with you! I disagree to the suggestion that harmonica is not a serious music and it is just great for busking only.”

Maurice Lee

Chinese Version 中文版: https://www.patreon.com/posts/wai-biao-cai-hua-101156253?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

CY Leo Jazz Quintet at Montreux Jazz Festival China https://youtu.be/o9gj5lVn0BA?si=y3vaxi7ycEiuEqpY Acknowledgement – Cy Leo

CY Leo & The Guardians of Groovin' Underworld《Wolala》Official Live Performance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OfjWssdEdW0 Acknowledgement – COLLAB HK

CY Leo Solo Harmonica https://youtu.be/JjRZI-MUgag?si=ErAlGh_bDIaISbjM Acknowledgement-Cy Leo

Harmonica Talk by CY Leo https://youtu.be/mxZbKmViwks?si=VtmnaP5TX6UJXK4v Acknowledgement – HK Arts Festival

《青春舞曲》Harmonica https://youtu.be/W4YTbaoABhM?si=MU5Yz8UyhtZWnnOp Acknowledgement - 中華口琴會

[mrssweethomealabamareads]

Ruby Tears by Pepper Winters is now live! 

My Review This book!!! I can’t believe what I just read. Wow! Pepper Winters is the queen of Dark Romance. I was lost from the first page. She makes you want to close your eyes or look away, but you still want the bad guy to get his girl.

What becomes clearer as the book heads into the cliffhanger (yes it is a dirty word, but I will still read every one of the book Mrs. Winters writes as soon as I can) is that Henri fights with himself every second. He fights for Ily, and in a very small way he starts to see all the other jewels too. This is a hard topic. Trafficking people is horrific. The monsters don’t care about anyone but themselves, and the monsters in this book… they are the worst. In the end, he realizes he’s jumped into an ocean of sharks. His hope for rescue slowly dies. My hope was dying too!

Mrs. Winters is masterful. This is dark, and I’m not talking dark grey… I’m talking pitch black. Heed the warning readers. Now when you decide you can read it… dive in. Henri & Ily are waiting.

From renowned Dark Romance author and New York Times Bestseller, Pepper Winters, comes a brand new addictive series.


"Ten thousand dollars.
That pitiful sum changed my entire life.
It bought my entire life.
A measly ten thousand dollars, given to my boyfriend by a monster to fuck me.
He took it.
The monster took me.
And I never saw freedom again."

I'm the bastard son of a monster.
My other half-blooded siblings have their own demons...but me? 
I truly have the devil inside.
I try to be good. 
To do my best to ignore the deep, dark, despicable urges.
But every day, it gets harder.
I thought my family could help. 
I reached out to my infamous half-brother, Q, begging for his secrets to stay tamed. 
Instead, he gave me an ultimatum to prove I'm not like our father.
Infiltrate The Jewelry Box: a trafficking ring of poor unfortunate souls, kill the Master Jeweler, free the Jewels, and don't lose my rotten soul while trying.
Only problem is...my initiation into this exclusive club is earning a Jewel all of my own.
She sparkles like diamonds, bleeds like rubies, and bruises as deep as emeralds.
She's mine to break.
I can't refuse.
If I want to prove to my half-brother that I'm not like our sire, I have to sink into urges I've always fought, plunge into madness, and lose myself so deeply into sin that the only one who will be breaking is me.




    Download today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/49rhrAB

Amazon Worldwide: https://mybook.to/RubyTears

Audio: https://bit.ly/3V6svPG

Narrated by Luke William Bromley & Lucy Jessica

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3StXbrq

Start reading The Mercer Curse now for FREE!

Pepper Winters Shop: https://bit.ly/3SH93q7

Amazon: https://amzn.to/49qHXuc

Apple Books: https://apple.co/3wilXmT

Nook: https://bit.ly/3uom5Rj

Kobo: https://bit.ly/3SHzN9V

Google Play: https://bit.ly/3SHBdB0

The Mercer Curse is a 13,000 word prequel and is recommended to be read before Ruby Tears.

[just6f]

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[loudrumblings]

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

Here's all my original characters that'll be pretty often tagged and talked about here! They range from just regular human people to eldritch beings to animalistic cryptids, but I want to be clear absolutely all of them pass the Harkness Test*! Consent is very important, and should be extended to monsters as well <3

If the character has a visual reference, their name will look like this and have a link attached so you can take a look at them :]

*A test that evaluates the morality of having sex with a non-human entity on the basis of the entity's age, intelligence, and understanding of consent.

Humans

Angelo [He/Him] - Botanist who is happily married to Kiikiim and Kral'ka.

Carwyn [He/It] - Loyal knight turned sex cult prophet that hopes to help spread the word of Amodea worldwide.

Elias [Any Pronouns] - Farmer and secret government scientist who has a large petplay farm that doubles as their laboratory.

Kara [He/She] - A scammer and odd-jobs worker that is in extreme debt to a lot of unpleasant personalities...

Tiffany [She/Her] - Stoic lumberjack and wife to Ylva, does carpentry and gardening on the side.

Humanoids

Athraos [She/Her] - A giant woman riddled with scars, timid towards humans and other giants.

Claude [He/Him] - A shy vampire poet from the 1800s that's still stuck looking for the perfect muse.

Daisy [They/She] - A pixie book-keeper that is more than willing to take um... alternative payments for her tomes.

Gulo [It/Its/They/Them] - A gluttony demon that has an insatiable appetite for lost souls.

Himmel House Spirits - Seven powerful ghosts whose lives date all the way back to the mid-1800s. They get handsy.

Sua [She/Her] - A fire/ice demon who loves working at the cross-roads and generally being summoned by humans who don't know what they're getting into.

Thalia [She/Her] - A dryad that spends a lot of her time by the lake with Theano, but is known to travel around on occasion.

Theano [She/He/It] - A naiad that terrorizes people that try to harm the lake or any of it's inhabitants.

Ylva [She/Her] - A lone werewolf that loves to shop more than she can spend, and often brings along her human wife, Tiffany.

Anthros

Darath [She/They] - A great white shark renowned for her brutality.

Dyla [Any Pronouns] - A lamprey of the lake that can't resist getting a taste of those who try and hang out in her waters.

Phyrios [He/Him] - A dragon lord that is known for his incredible wit, and horrifyingly effective scheming.

Vargog [He/Him] - A dragon king that is known for his unending kindness and terrifying strength.

Aliens

Alvua [She/Xe/It] - An eccentric wealthy noble who has escaped from her original planet and hidden xerself away on Earth.

Kiikiim [She/Her] - A ka'kiil businesswoman that's married to Kral'ka and Angelo.

Kral'ka [He/Him] - A ka'kill IT worker that's married to Kiikiim and Angelo.

Rain [Any Pronouns] - A spinocanto xenobiologist and cosmonaut, extremely taken with humans.

Glow Worm [They/Them] - A hivemind mass that has been trapped on a desolate planet for far too long...

Robots

Captain Odessa [She/Her] - An android originally programmed to be a war machine, has altered herself to fit her desired body.

Haru [They/He] - An android originally programmed to be a high-class sex toy, now trying to find themself.

Squid [Xe/Xer/Bun/Bunself] - An android originally programmed to be an assistant for surgery, loves animals and soft things.

Deities

Amodea [She/It/They] - A horrifying tentacled primordial god of love, she is always looking for a new subject to indoctrinate. Perhaps that could be you?

Father Forest [He/Him] - A swirling, constantly changing nature god, known for his grand parties and keeping things 'in the balance.'

Other

Insatiable Caveworm [It/Itself] - Much more resembling a leech with tendrils, this cryptid can only be found in the deepest caves, and even those who survive encounters can't be able to recount the interaction well.

[amadenchart]

Fun Fact about the sea, dragons worldwide seem to start out as water deities before taking on other associations. This can be seen clearly in Eastern Dragons, but is even true for European Dragons, which despite being depicted as fire breathers to gain more aquatic affinities the further back you go. This ultimately culminates in many cultures having the Primordial Sea Deity depicted as a dragon or serpent, with the ocean sometimes literally being a Draconic Mother Sea.

Another Fun Fact, since at one point the Dunvir had shark-like tails, but in some cultures, dragons and sharks are closely linked. The Taniwha of Polynesian myth can appear as lizard like monsters on the land, but sharks or whales out at sea. The Japanese Wani is an indigenous dragon which is also conflated with sharks and crocodiles.

Yes! I'm aware of a lot of these ideas! I'm really a lover of mythology and religions worldwide and love learning about them, and incorporating certain elements and references into my world!

A lot of these are incorporated into the Dunvir, and into the dragons. They breath fire, but are related to the ocean. Afterall, all elements are connected in nature and I like that to reflect into my world too!

And fun fact about the Dunvir: they shave the fur on their tails, ankles and elbows, so that they look similar to aquatic creatures, especiall y sharks, who are a sacred animal for them. Dunvir never kill sharks, instead, they like to collect loose shark teeth from their shores to make necklaces and other ceremonial things. The shark skeletons they have are actually harvested from sharks they find already dead.

[forestwater87]

Chapter 15: Grand Gesture

Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.

CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.

Summer 2017

“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”

She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”

She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.

She hoped.

While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”

“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.

But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.

Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.

He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”

The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.

Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”

“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.

She had one chance.

“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”

---

Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.

But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.

And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.

“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”

(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)

“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”

Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”

Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”

Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”

And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.

“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”

“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”

“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?

“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”

He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”

The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”

(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)

“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”

He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.

He didn’t think she remembered any of this.

But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.

In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).

‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’

“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”

Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”

He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”

Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.

“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.

“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”

Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.

“I trust you.”

David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.

He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.

It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.

He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”

“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.

She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.

Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”

“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.

Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.

There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.

This was worth remembering.

---

Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.

Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.

Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.

There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.

But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”

A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”

David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.

“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”

“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”

A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”

His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.

“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.

But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.

His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.

“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.

She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.

Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”

The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.

Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)

He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”

“You’re not mad?”

She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”

Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.

He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”

“But I did —”

“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.

“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”

Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”

“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”

She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.

“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”

“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”

“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”

Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”

“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”

She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.

But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.

His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”

Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”

He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”

Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”

She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”

David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”

Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”

“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”

“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”

“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”

She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”

His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”

Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.

His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”

Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.

“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.

She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”

His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”

God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”

He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.

But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.

“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)

“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”

“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”

She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.

He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.

“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”

“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.

So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”

“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”

“I really don’t.”

“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”

“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”

“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”

“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”

She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.

“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”

She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”

“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.

“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.

It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.

Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”

“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.

He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”

All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)

But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.

She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.

And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”

She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”

“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”

Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”

Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”

David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”

“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”  

“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”

“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”

Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.

(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)

“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”

A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”

It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”

“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.

Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.

“Wanna bet?”

His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.

Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.

She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”

He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”

He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.

“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”

“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.

When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”

“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”

“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”

She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.

He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.

He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —

“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”

Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”

Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --

His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”

Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”

“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”

“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”

He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”

When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”

David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”

“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”

“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”

Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”

“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”

She frowned. “Did what?”

“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”

David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”

He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.

“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.

His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”

When it came to David, she always wanted everything.

“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”

She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —

He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…

Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.

The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”

David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”

She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”

The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”

“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”

Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”

“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”

He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)

“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”

“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”

So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”

He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --

Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.

God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.

David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”

Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”

“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”

No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”

“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.

“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.

God, he was perfect.

“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”

“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.

David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”

“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.

“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”

His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”

“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”

That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.

She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”

He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --

Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.

She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”

Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.

David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Worth it.

[choco-mark]

20 April ♡ ✹ ☾ boyfriend!jisung

a part of the Quarantine Diaries!!

You pressed a hand down lightly on your boyfriend’s shoulder briefly, holding yourself up as you dried his wet hair with a towel. Jisung was just staring at you the entire time, completely disregarding all of your words as he focused on the beauty that was your face. But when you had put a slight pressure on his shoulder, he visibly flinched, letting out a soft grunt that didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“Did that hurt?” You asked, concerned as you pulled the towel off his head. He shook his head, making you skeptical until you touched the same area again with your fingers, pressing down hard enough to feel the huge knot as he winced, face scrunching up. “Oh god, babe, no wonder it hurts, that’s a massive knot.”

Your fingers found both his shoulders, rubbing slow circles into the area to feel how hard he had built up, probably from the non-stop dance practices. Jisung’s eyes shut in pain as you groaned out a little, shaking to push your hands away. “Baby stop, that really hurts—”

“Sit on the ground,” you said, yanking his arm as he looked up at you from his position on the bed, confusion spreading on his face. “Jisung, you’re too tall for me, and I’m going to get those knots out whether you like it or not. So please, sit on the damn ground.”

“Okay! Okay! Sitting!” he moved down on the ground, leaning against the bed. You threw him a throw pillow shortly after, telling him to sit on it as you knew he would complain about his butt hurting soon enough.

Jisung immediately leaned back into your crossed legs, his hair flopping backwards as he gave you a lazy smile. Your heart melted at the sight, squishing his face for a moment that he pouted in annoyance, but then smiled again, completely and utterly whipped for you.

“Okay, babe, I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off,” your words faded away with confidence as you said it, pushing his head forward to avoid showing him your flustered face. “I mean—just for this, I can’t really—”

Yeah, but before you were done stammering, his shirt was already off and in his lap, waiting for you to begin your murder massage. Your hands wrapped around the grooves between his shoulder and neck, thumbs pressing into his blades as you started your job.

Jisung let out a string of painful sounding moans, making you worried every five seconds until the feeling seemed to have softened. You moved a little bit to the center, massaging the skin of his back before you realized you couldn’t get any lower, making you purse your lips.

“Can you lay on the bed? Like, tummy down?” He threw his head back into your lap, the smile growing again goofily as he took another glance at your face. “Hey, listen! Don’t just stare at me, babe!”

Jisung just chuckled, getting into the position you wanted as you sat beside, thinking he looked like a dancer fish out of water. His body was so flat, you thought he could beat a shark in a marathon for best body. “Stay still, okay?”

You contemplated for a few seconds on how the hell you were actually going to massage him, but the problem was solved when you just decided to fuck it, and sit on his back. It took you a bit of thinking and a ‘should I ask him’ until you remembered you were his girlfriend and the two of you had been dating for a year previous, so it was safe to do so.

But your boyfriend didn’t think about it, mainly because he was too busy enjoying your hands to take in completely that you had put all of your weight on him. For a second, he thought you had fallen, and he whipped around, sending you toppling to the ground.

“I told you to stay still, stupid!” You looked up at him from the very hard floor, your butt suffering horribly from the crash. He looked apologetic, trying to offer you a hand but you dodged it, climbing up yourself and firmly planting yourself on his back. “Now stay fucking still, babe. I’m trying to help you.”

“That kinda feels good though,” he commented, grabbing your ankles suddenly as you shook from the contact. “You should sit on me often, I like this.”

You giggled a bit, going back to your work as he relaxed under your touch, his eyes fluttering a bit as he failed to stay awake. The feeling was so calming to him, laying down completely and utterly in your control, nearly drifting off from the circles you were rubbing into his back with your warm fingers.

The knots in his back weren’t nearly as bad as they were in his shoulders, but with every movement you made, it decreased the tension that had seemed to have built up for literal years. Reached over, you squeezed his arm slightly, feeling the tightening of his muscle under your palm.

You assumed he was asleep at this point, considering from his unresponsive movements as you continued to work out all of the knots. Jisung deserved it though, he had been working endlessly for the comeback regardless of the fact that there was a worldwide crisis going on, and you couldn’t be more proud of him.

Your fingers travelled up to his neck, massaging a little softer so you didn’t crush his windpipe as you moved up to his head, rubbing his temples. You were practically laying on top of him at this point, and you were concerned that he was going to wake up, but he never did (thankfully).

But in less than a second he was awake when Jaemin very loudly burst through the door (well, it was his room as well), startling the both of you as you shot up straight. His eyes widened at the two of you, gasping dramatically. “You—why are you sitting on my child?!”

“Jaemin—” Jisung started with a low voice, slightly groggy from the sleep that was just rudely stolen from him. But Jaemin moved closer with a loud step, nearly rattling the entire dorm. “Hey—what the fuck are you doing?!”

Jaemin’s arms were under yours, attempting to pull you off of your boyfriend as Jisung turned around in his position, holding onto your ankles. You yelped as you felt yourself hovering in the air, trying to slap away the older boy’s hands. “Jaemin, put her down!”

“RENJUN WE HAVE A CODE BLUE!” His voice rang off the walls and into your ears, nearly making your eardrums burst from his echoing voice. “Renjun, you piece of rotten shit, where the fuck are you?!”

“Put my girlfriend down!” Jisung said annoyingly, his voice growing louder in rage as he continued pulling at your legs. You felt like you were the rope in a tug of war, yet you were sure you were going to be in two pieces when they were done. “Jaemin!”

Renjun came in shortly after, clearly annoyed that he was rudely interrupted from whatever he was doing until he saw the situation at hand, his eyes growing in size at the sight of your terrified face. “What—the hell are you two doing?”

“Jaemin’s trying to murder Y/N!”

“Murder her? You little munchkin, I’m saving you from her unholyness! I should take you both to my holy virgin society and cleanse you both of sins! Or, you know what, I’ll take you one at a time, you can’t be trusted around each other!”

Renjun sighed, holding the bridge of his nose before he waved away at Jaemin. “Jaemin, put her down. Jisung, let go of her. You guys are gonna pull her apart like rotisserie chicken, c’mon.” The two boys finally let go of you, letting you stand up on your own feeling like you just gained height from all that stretching. “Okay, now you two, apologize to each other.”

“Why do I need to apologize to him?!” Jisung asked with an incredulous look, holding at hand out to Jaemin as he looked at the other boy. “He just stormed in and tried to steal Y/N from me, I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You’re not wearing a shirt!”

“Is that an issue?! You’ve seen me naked hundreds of times, stupid!”

“Take that back, you fetus!”

“Okay!” Renjun stepped in between the two boys, pushing Jaemin away from the younger one in slow intervals, making him sit down on his own bed. He looked from you to Jisung and then Jaemin, and sighed. “Y/N, you mind telling me what happened? Since these two can’t seem to get through anything without going at each other’s throats.”

All eyes were on you now, making you flush before you glanced over to your boyfriend. It didn’t really seem like something you had to explain to anyone, mainly because it was none of their business but you didn’t really have the guts to speak to his older members like that. Just when you opened your mouth, Jisung cut you off.

“Renjun, she doesn’t have to tell you anything.” He said, a little quietly as he looked away from him. “Sorry, but it’s not really any of your business.” Renjun looked shocked to hear the words coming out from the youngest member’s mouth, looking over at you as if you condoned it as well, but your eyes were also on the ground, completely embarrassed.

“Hey! Renjun’s older than you!” Jaemin piped up from the other bed, making Renjun looked back at him with a stern look before tugging on his arm, pulling him towards the door. “Wait—”

But the door was already shut and they were gone, leaving you and Jisung in the room alone. He slowly slipped his shirt back on over his head, looking over at you watching him silently. Jisung knew that you were the kind of person to get flustered very quickly, just like him, but he was used to Jaemin’s antics anyway.

You had moved in not that long ago with the rest of the boys, and Jisung had been raging war with Jaemin on trying to get either him to move out, or for him to get one of the empty rooms of the dorm. Yet he never seemed to win all of the fights, forcing him to sleep on the ground as you took his bed, since Jaemin didn’t allow the two of you on a bed together.

Jisung was pretty sure you’d rather move back in with your friends, but since the quarantine started, you definitely couldn’t. It was nice to see you all the time, but he couldn’t help but feel bad since Jaemin picked on the two of you constantly.

“Y/N,” he grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him until you were safely tucked in his arms. You held him back gently, softening a little under his touch. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, are you okay?”

You gave a little hum against his chest, sighing from the way you remembered Jaemin bursting in on the two of you as if you were doing something wrong. “I don’t think he likes me, Sungie. Maybe I should leave.”

“N-No, please don’t say that. I know he overreacts a lot but I promise it’ll get better, just bare with him a little longer, please? I don’t want you to leave, Y/N, we won’t be able to see each other.”

Yeah, but maybe it was better that way.

[mystical-flute]

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (SFWeek Day 6)

Actors AU or Social Media AU

AO3 || FFN

@mysteryandnonstopfun

“No, Baelfire!”

“It’s okay, Leia… all magic comes with a price, right? I’m happy paying this price if it means - ” he winced in pain as the magic drained more of his strength. “If it means you and Henry will be safe.”

She sniffed, a tear landing on his cheek. “But - but Henry doesn’t even remember you. He never got to see you again!”

“I have faith you’ll break his curse…”

“Bae…” came the broken voice of a father.

“Papa,” despite him dying, he had never felt more relieved to see his father. His sacrifice worked. Papa was safe.

Rumplestiltskin sank to his knees, taking his son’s hand. “Oh my boy. No, I’ll - I’ll stop this. I’ll make sure it takes me instead of you.”

“Papa, you can’t! It’s too late. It’s already begun. You have to let me go. Please.”

“Baelfire…”

Baelfire turned his gaze back to Leia. “Go… find your happiness… without me.”

A final breath escaped him, although his eyes remained open, glassy and empty, as they stared off into the bright light above him.

“CUT!”

Director Killian Jones’ voice sliced through the somber scene, chatter beginning to buzz as assistants, producers and camera operators continued the work that had been stalled while the cameras rolled.

Neal Cassidy blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the studio lighting, and sat up, off his co-star, Emma Swan’s, legs. “That was the first time I’ve ever died in a movie before. Gotta say, I don’t recommend staring directly into the spotlight above your head.”

Arthur Gold, ‘Rumplestiltskin’, stood and stretched out his. “You two are good,” he remarked. “Really just thought you two were just pretty faces, but you two got real acting chops,” his voice dropped lower as Victoria Belfrey, one of the most cutthroat producers in Hollywood, strolled by, “ - especially if you haven’t been scared off by her, yet.”

“Ah, she’s not so bad,” Emma said with a shrug. “You just have to know how to butter her up.”

“Yeah, I mean, sooner or later, it’s going to be our generation that’s the big time producers,” Neal added.

Arthur blinked slowly, then smirked. “That’s the spirit. That will get you both far in this town.”

He ambled away in the direction of catering, and the mood shifted immediately when the two stars were left alone.

“You got snot on me when you cried.”

“Your breath stinks like garlic.”

Oh, Neal couldn’t stand to be near Emma Swan. But Regina Mills’ Misthaven had broken record after record for books and social media posts, so it only made sense that, when the inevitable movie adaptation was announced, Neal Cassidy and Emma Swan, both riding high from their own worldwide successes, would play the two star-crossed, tragic lovers - Baelfire the Spinner and Princess Leia.

He glared. “Yeah? What time did you get to your trailer last night? Two? Because before Elsa worked her magic on you, you looked like - ”

“That is enough out of you two!” Killian snapped, a clipboard tucked under his arm as he approached the sound stage. “I’d heard you two were trouble to work with, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Well maybe if - ”

“I don’t care. Neither of you are scheduled to film tomorrow, so I’ve set up a bit of a… bonding exercise for you. Don’t worry, your agents gave the okay.”

Neal and Emma shot Killian incredulous looks. “You did this behind our backs?” “What the hell, man?” They protested at the same time.

“Oh, look at that. It seems to be working already,” Killian smirked, handing them sheets of paper. “Meet there at nine o’clock sharp. Spend the day together. Get to know each other - without trying to rip the other’s throat out.”

Neal thought he might have more luck jumping into a zoo exhibit, but he really didn’t want to lose his reputation or everything he had worked for.

So the next morning, he was slumped in the back seat of a car, Emma doing the same on the other side. The ride had been quiet, neither of them much in the mood to talk.

Maybe if they learned to just ignore each other, that would be enough for Killian? Hell, it was already working.

His brow raised as they turned off the main highway, heading into the woods.

“Okay, I know Killian’s annoyed with us, but is he really going to murder us in the woods?” Emma whispered.

“Please, if they did that, Misthaven would tank, and that wouldn’t be fair to Regina Mills,” he replied, although the thought had crossed his mind as well.

“I didn’t think you cared about anyone but yourself.”

“I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Finally, the driver stopped outside a cabin. “Alright you two. I’ll be back at three, Mr. Jones’ orders. Have fun and don’t do anything that might require an ambulance.”

“It’s like they don’t trust us or something,” Neal said, watching the driver pull away.

Emma didn’t laugh as she glanced at the cabin. “This is a joke, right? God, it’s like being back on Dad’s farm.”

“You grew up on a farm?”

“You gonna mock me for that?”

Neal held up his hands in a gesture of surrender as she unlocked the cabin door and stepped inside. “I was doing nothing of the sort. You just don’t strike me as the “farm girl” type with all the leather you wear.”

“I shed that image. I was never a fan of small towns or - or farms. They’re nice to visit, but I’m a city girl through and through,” she said, frowning as she looked around. “No TV?”

“Jones did say this was a bonding exercise. They probably figured we’d spend all day watching TV or going online and ignoring each other.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me.”

“Well, they ended that dream before you could fall asleep,” Neal said, flopping down on a couch. “Why don’t we talk more about that little farm thing you grew up on?”

“It’s a farm in Maine. Dad raises sheep, cows and chickens and has crops. Really not all that interesting to talk about, other than I hated getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to collect eggs. That was more my brother’s speed.”

Neal raised a brow. “Maine, huh? You don’t hear a lot about people from Maine.”

“Suppose not. Where was it you were from, again?”

“New Orleans.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? No offense, but you don’t sound like it.”

Neal chewed the inside of his cheek, before sighing. “My manager didn’t think it’d get me far if I kept the accent,” he said, slipping into his normal voice. “I really don’t think I’d have gotten Misthaven if I sound like this, do you?”

Emma shrugged. “I think the accent sounds fine, but I guess I can see what you mean. Still shouldn’t mean you couldn’t use it in other work or in interviews. Your manager must be a shark.”

“Cora Miller. And trust me when I say she wasn’t happy when she found out about this little adventure.”

“Ah, that explains it.” A pause. “Did you read Misthaven? The book, I mean.”

“I did. I think it’s bullshit that Baelfire dies.”

“You’re just saying that because that means you have to die and miss out on the last half of the movie.”

“No, no! I’m serious! Baelfire fights so hard to reunite his family and revive his father, and he knows the ins and out of magic, and he still pays the ultimate price? When others who did so much worse get to survive? Even if he and Princess Leia don’t get together, he deserved to be with Henry, at least,” Neal replied, frowning.

Emma tilted her head. “I guess that makes sense. And Baelfire returning a hero after being out of Princess Leia’s life for so long would have made for a great redemption story. Maybe Regina Mills will figure out a way to bring him back in the sequel.”

“Wait, she’s writing a sequel?”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to come out in a couple years. I didn’t know you were such a big reader.”

“You kiddin’? English was my favorite subject in school. I got a whole wall in my house dedicated to books.”

Emma sat back in her chair, clearly surprised. “Huh. It was mine too.”

Neal crossed his legs. “I guess we got more in common than we thought. What do you say we start over?”

Emma smiled. “Sure. I’d like that.”

[the-hidden-writer]

And Into The Fire

Chapter 14: Choosing Sides

Summary: Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she’s seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it’s up to the Mitchells to protect them.

Taglist: @squidsushi , @astro-aye , @shitmyex, @sharks-are-friendly, @snakeguy99

Check reblogs for AO3 link!

Choosing Sides

So Mark was having a pretty eventful night as it was, ever since the Evil Warden came back and Katie Mitchell was thrown into his office-prison with him. Not to mention those damn bots turning up earlier. That was a pretty huge development too.

And then the other Mitchells showed up out of nowhere, acting as a perfect distraction to allow the pair of them to escape.

As he watched Katie reunite with his family, Mark had a million thoughts swimming through his head. His own family had practically cut him off since Pal went haywire, and though he could probably patch things up with them, it was going to take some time. He couldn’t help but feel jealous at how the Mitchell family supported one another without a second thought. They had to have a pretty strong bond with one another to be able to do that.

But hadn’t Katie said those bots were part of their family, too..? They even had names: Eric and something-or-other. Were they really that trusting to accept murderous robots into their home?

And, more importantly, whose side was he safer on? The American government or one simple, loving family?

“Get them.” Ward ordered, her voice cold and menacing- nothing like the deceivingly polite woman who’d first marched into his office many months ago.

That’s when Mark made his decision. Despite the fact that they’d just broken into his building, he’d much rather side with the Mitchells. Besides, they saved the world once- they could do it again, right? And if Ward’s ultimate goal really was to mass produce a robot army… the Mitchells were definitely the safest bet.

He couldn’t have another worldwide disaster looming over his conscience.

He’d brought the Mitchells into Lab 3. Not only had it been abandoned since Ward took over, but it also had no security and a small service staircase in the back. A perfect escape route.

And because there was no security, the door was designed to be impossible to break into when locked. Without special equipment, at least. That bought them some time.

As Katie told her story to her family, stuff she’d already told him, it suddenly occurred to Mark that he had nowhere to escape to. Ward would find him straight away if he fled to his house, and his family were off the table at the moment.

...Would the Mitchells take him with them?

“-Hey, Dr Bowman!” A finger was snapped in his face.

“Huh? Yeah?”

Katie sighed in frustration. “Where’s Interview Room 7?”

Oh yeah. Mark had almost forgotten about the bot still sitting in there. The Mitchells probably wanted to rescue it too, but that wouldn’t be easy since…

“It’s right next to the balcony.” He explained. “You can see it from the entrance- it’s basically impossible to get into without being seen and caught.”

“Dangit.” Katie’s Mom, Linda Mitchell, swore. “Are you sure? No secret back-entrance to that room, either?”

“Apart from a mirror attaching it to another room, nope. Sorry.”

Linda groaned in frustration, and their weird little dog let out a yelp.

The room fell into a tense silence. The Mitchells must’ve been thinking about a way to reach the Pal MAX bot, though Mark was perfectly content with just focusing on escaping. At the end of the day, it was just a robot. Robots could be replaced.

“...Those things are really freaking me out.”

“Huh?” Mark looked up to see Rick Mitchell staring at the holograms at the front of the lab. “Oh, those.”

“They’re so realistic!” Rick continued in astonishment. “I thought we were done for when we first came in.”

Katie’s brother whimpered for some reason.

“Well, thanks. They were designed to be realistic.” Mark said, walking toward the four tall figures. “We were planning to use them as an upgrade to the Pal Maxes. As a, y’know, ‘design your own robot helper’ sort of thing, so the hologram would get projected over the bot’s base.”

He smiled wistfully. He’d dreamt about that upgrade being the one that boosted sales tenfold, and the one that would win him all sorts of awards that he didn’t already own.

“But, uh… when all the Pal MAX bots got destroyed, we started repurposing the technology to be made from hard light. So that it didn’t need a base and can be used in escape rooms and haunted houses and stuff to stop actors from getting hurt. That’s why these four look so scary.” He let out a nervous chuckle as he gestured to the costumed holograms. “We, um, didn’t get very far with that though, since Ward showed up…”

Katie slowly walked toward the holograms, seeming to be in awe of them. And though he wouldn’t admit it (being a fan of her work) Mark secretly felt very proud that she was taking an interest in them.

“Are the designs based on real people? Or are they custom-made?” She asked as she pushed her arm through the one in clown attire.

“They’re custom.” He answered. “Every single feature is designed individually. From the hair to the nose to the body type...”

“And they were made to go over the bots?”

Katie was asking very specific questions, and Mark couldn’t help but feel more than a little nervous. She was a bright girl, after all. “...Yeah, the hard light ones are. The ones at the front are just for show, but we manufactured a chip that would let the bot download the update for custom designs. We tested them on spare VR bodysuits first though. Why?”

Her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

“Do you have an idea?” The little boy asked his big sister- who looked as if she was about to burst.

“I think I know how we can get out of here!” She cried.

“How?” Mark asked at the same time as Rick.

After a brief pause, Linda gasped. “You don’t mean…”

“I do mean!” Katie grinned. “It’s perfect, especially if they’re all waiting for us outside the front while we sneak out from the back.”

“Are you sure it will work?” Linda continued with concern. “If the technology hurts him… or if he’s being guarded… and what about Er-”

Rick put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “There’s nothing we can do about him right now, remember? As long as we escape, we can always come back when he’s in one piece.”

At first, Mark was very confused about who they were talking about. Were there secretly more Mitchells?

Then it hit him.

His entire conversation with Katie earlier, she said they thought those damn robots were family. And if they were talking about his hologram technology and escaping at the same time then that meant…

“Wait, hold on-”

Katie rushed back over to the group in order to hug her Mom. “I think it’ll work. But there’s only one way to find out!”

Comments make my day! :)

[ressyfaerie]

Okay, gurl, you asked for it. Just know, I love you and I know you’re gonna smash all of these requests.

Otp - TyKa. Dub names pweaaase.

Theme - A spot can make one feel paranoid or ugly, but the significant other doesnt care. They just watch the other buy loads of shit and eventually, they have to step in to comfort them.

(I am suffering with acne right now, it’s the bane of my fucking life - delayed puberty and I need something to make me feel better). 😂

Have fun! ❤️❤️

OMG THIS IS SO CUTE!! Lucky for you I happen to know lots about skincare lmao so this is gon be GOOD. OMG I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY BUT DAMN THIS IS SO GOOD HERE YOU GOOOOO (Anything in between * are private thoughts cause fuck italics on tumblr lol)

“No face paint today Kai?” 

Ray basically threw the question in his face as soon as he slipped through the screen doors of the dojo.

The whole team minus Tyson sat in a circle watching something on Kenny’s computer. Kai had hoped he could sneak in without any questions, but unfortunately any change in Kai’s appearance or personality was immediately picked up by these goons.

“No.” Kai answered simply, hoping to drop the subject. 

“How come?” Max wondered with a hint of concern then sipped a strawberry juicebox. 

“Didn’t feel like it.” Kai leaned over them to glance at the computer screen, “what are we watching?”

“Tyson’s last match.” Kenny messed with the playback.

“It was pretty intense- You sure you’re alright Kai?” Hilary’s eyes were worried, they darted across his face, and it pissed Kai off.

“I’m going to the washroom before we start training.” Kai used the excuse to abscond as fast as possible. 

When Kai reached for the door to slide it open it opened in his face.

“Hey I got more snacks!- Woah Kai, no face paint?- Oh”

Kai Tried to push past but Tyson extended his arm with a bag of chips in hand stopping him.

“Wow you’ve really broken out huh Kai?” 

Kai’s face scrunched up.

“Tyson! You can’t just say that!” Hilary spat in his direction.

Kai grabbed Tyson’s arm and threw it out of the way making his way to the bathroom down the hall. 

While washing his hands he tried not to look into the mirror, but damn human nature, his eyes moved against his will.

He straightened his posture.

*My face does look really different without my face paint. I do want my paint back but- it’s making my face break out so fucking much. Fuck.*

Tyson’s comment also made him angry. Why did he have to point it out? What the hell did he get out of it?

Truth be told, Kai debated not going to practice today. After lots of thought he decided his face wasn’t going to clear up in a few days, he couldn’t avoid it forever, and on top of all of that it just seemed to be getting worse.

*Imagine what everyone else will think. The great Kai Hiwatari winning the 4th championships, finally beating Tyson Granger, with the worst acne ever.*

Kai laughed a bit over his ridiculous thoughts. He decided to head back to his friends, after all, he couldn’t hide forever.

The door creaked a bit when it opened, suddenly he was face to face with- Tyson

“Hey.” Tyson waved at him awkwardly. 

Kai just nodded in his direction. 

Tyson didn’t dare take his eyes off the floor, he grabbed his own arm awkwardly.

“Sorry If I uh- offended you.”

Kai scoffed and went to turn away.

“Hey-” Tyson grabbed Kai’s wrist.

“You know I used to struggle with my face- I can help.”

Normally Kai would laugh and leave, but the offer was tempting, Kai didn’t even know where to start with something like skin care. 

Tyson got the drift, he knew Kai well enough, “Come upstairs to my bathroom.” 

Kai let him awkwardly pull him along like a lost puppy up the stairs, through Tyson’s messy room, and to his bathroom, which was strangely… Clean.

“I was expecting it to look like a dump.” Kai grinned.

“What do you think I am a neanderthal?” Tyson laughed. “Here.” Tyson grasped his shoulders turning him towards the mirror.

Kai slightly grimaced looking at his face.

“First of all. You’re beautiful, so don’t do that.” Tyson made sure to point out the obvious when he caught Kai’s body language. 

“Okay…” Tyson opened a drawer with tons of small bottles in it.

Kai was taken back for a moment, when he scanned the countertop he noticed a lot more products than he ever expected Tyson Granger to own. 

Tyson rummaged through the drawer, “Is this why you stopped wearing your paint?” Tyson stopped for a moment to make eye contact. 

Kai felt himself strangely... Embarrassed “Y-Yeah.” 

“You can wear it, you just have to take care of your face, what do you do for it?”

Kai stayed silent.

“Um, what do you wash it with?” 

“Uh.” Kai looked at himself in the mirror, “water.” 

Tyson started laughing, “You wash it with water!” He wheezed. 

Tyson stopped laughing when he saw Kai’s body tense up with anger or maybe embarrassment? 

“Ehm- Okay. So you need to wash your face.” 

“With soap?” 

“No not with soap!” Tyson coughed trying to not laugh. 

“Okay… So with what?” Kai’s cheeks were maybe, slightly, pink.

“Cleanser.” Tyson handed him a bottle. 

“Okay…” Kai held it still obviously confused. 

“I’ll show you don’t worry.” 

Tyson’s smile reassured Kai. 

Kai let Tyson teach him how, he might have even let him touch his face a bit. 

Tyson patted his cheeks with a dry towel giggling slightly in disbelief that he was drying Kai Hiwatari’s face.

“So if you wear make-up- you need to cleanse your face twice especially before bed.”

“I don’t wear make-up.”

“Kai.”

“What?”

“Your facepaint is make-up.”

“No it’s not? It’s facepaint Tyson.”

Tyson grinned at him, happy to hear his name come out of his mouth in such a way.

“It’s okay, I wear makeup too.” 

“What, actually?” Kai chuckled a bit.

“You think this face goes on worldwide television looking like it just woke up?”

“You usually have just woken up.” 

“Shut up Kai.”

They both laughed.

Tyson showed him and talked him through a bunch of other things, exfoliating, treatments, Kai was a bit overwhelmed, but he knew if he ever needed help he could ask Tyson.

“How did you learn all this?”

Tyson thought for a moment, if he said youtube would that make him seem weird? 

“Uh… Hilary.” Tyson lied. 

 Kai nodded, not really believing his lie. 

Kai leaned into the counter and dragged his fingers over his face, “It doesn’t feel much different.” 

“Well it shouldn’t feel different- but it will start to look different. It might take awhile to clear up. But if you keep cleaning it-”

Tyson reached his hand forward and grasped the edge of Kai’s jawline. He rubbed his thumb from his ear to his chin. 

“You can wear your dumb shark fins again.”

Kai’s eyes squinted a bit, he angled his body towards his best friend.

“I- Thanks.” 

Tyson’s hand stayed where it was.

There was a moment.

With emotions that neither of them had felt before.

Staring into each other’s eyes.

Tyson suddenly pulled his hand away and blushed.

“M-Make sure to change your pillow-case every night Kai-”

“Every night?!” 

“Yeah.” Tyson forced a laugh, “I know it seems like too much but I promise it’ll help.”

[sciencesideanswers]

Why do people get anxiety and depression?

Also with this question:

The answer is simple and it is: Capitalism.

I’m joshing - well.. Not really. Let’s take a quick look at depression and anxiety, and why it feels more prevalent as you get older. The World Health Organization cites that more than 300 million people worldwide suffer from depression (Source). 

First, let’s get rid of the easier answer - depression and anxiety can be genetically inherited. If you have a family member that has suffered from depression or anxiety, there is a higher chance for you to suffer through the same things. (Source) Then there are life circumstances - such as a break-up, an unfulfilling job, loneliness, fatigue, the weather, time changes, hormonal shifts, the loss of a loved one, broken family dynamics, abusive/toxic relationships, or health problems in a young life - depression, anxiety, and pretty much most mental illnesses can be triggered by a certain life events. Such as having a messy breakup may cause people to withdraw into themselves - leading a depressive life with some serious social anxiety. (Source) 

Let’s go back to capitalism. 

Paul Baran and Paul Sweezy, authors of the book Monopoly Capital, state that capitalism as a system failed to promote a happy and healthy development of its members. They continue to discuss that only a minority of people actually enjoy their jobs, and for most people it an unsatisfactory time in their lives. They’ve also brought up points regarding overconsumption of items - many people feel the need to continually replace objects and feel dissatisfied constantly. Burnout is becoming a massive problem with young workers, often working a lot of hours, for very little pay and there is a desire to do nothing at all (Source). 

Here are more sources linking capitalism to mental health struggles (Source). 

So you may be wondering - all of this sounds extremely grim, can anyone fully escape depression and anxiety? Well, anxiety and depression stay with you - they’re like little clouds that follow you wherever you go, but there are days when you can barely see them. I am a young woman who has been in therapy for two years now - I won’t lie and say recovery is easy, and that therapy + medication will always help, but sometimes - the clouds fade, and the day is good. 

Make sure to reach out to friends and family, rest as hard as you work, and don’t feel guilty about needing to take some time off, I love y’all. 

– Mod Shark

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***

PS: A few notes after the criticism that this post has received.

1. That we find a problem with capitalism doesn’t mean that communism/socialism is better. It doesn’t mean we should prefer it either. It just means that we found a problem with it. (For more information, see the false dichotomy fallacy.)

2. I have gone back and re-reviewed the sources that we have provided. Yes, I realize that most of them are left-leaning in the political spectrum, which might imply that they might be (or are) biased. However, the MontlyReview one (the “socialist magazine”) is incredibly well sourced itself with every affirmation backed up with a published scientific study. As such, I think it’s worth keeping as a source. The other one (redpepper) has been removed. Also, here’s yet another source.

3. Remember that we are humans too and we can make mistakes. We have, and we will. We are approachable! Feel free to reach out to us if you think we made a mistake, and tell us what we did wrong. But also don’t expect us to believe just anyone on the internet, so please provide something to back yourself up if you’re going to do so.

4. Remember that we are just humans, doing this in our spare time. If you’re going to disagree, please do so in a civilized manner. I will try my best to reach out and understand what was wrong, and I will try my best to avoid confrontation, so insults are just noise and do not help.

Alpha.-

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Pelagornis

By Ripley Cook

Etymology: Sea Bird

First Described By: Lartet, 1857

Classification: Dinosauromorpha, Dinosauriformes, Dracohors, Dinosauria, Saurischia, Eusaurischia, Theropoda, Neotheropoda, Averostra, Tetanurae, Orionides, Avetheropoda, Coelurosauria, Tyrannoraptora, Maniraptoromorpha, Maniraptoriformes, Maniraptora, Pennaraptora, Paraves, Eumaniraptora, Averaptora, Avialae, Euavialae, Avebrevicauda, Pygostaylia, Ornithothoraces, Euornithes, Ornithuromorpha, Ornithurae, Neornithes, Neognathae, Pelagornithidae  

Referred Species: P. chilensis, P. longirostris, P. mauretanicus, P. miocaenus, P. orri, P. sandersi, P. stirtoni, P. tenuirostris, P. wetmorei

Status: Extinct

Time and Place: Between 30 and 2.5 million years ago, from the Rupelian of the Oligocene through the beginning of the Pleistocene (in the Gelasian age) 

Pelagornis, being an extremely common seabird, is known from nearly everywhere around the world, usually associated with the coast. 

Physical Description: Despite the incredibly generic name, Pelagornis was quite an interesting bird. Like other pseudotooth birds, both its upper and lower beak bore toothlike spikes, in an alternating small/big/small/big pattern. Its beak was robust and fairly long compared to the back of the skull. These pseudoteeth appear to have grown in relatively late in Pelagornis’s growth, implying the keratin covering the beak may not have been fully hardened until close to adulthood. Interestingly enough, fossil evidence indicates that Pelagornis probably held its head upright at a vertical angle. 

By José Carlos Cortés

Pelagornis was fucking huge, m’kay. P. sandersi has an estimated wingspan between 6.1 and 7.4 meters! This makes Pelagornis the bird with the largest wingspan (but not the heaviest flying bird - that record belongs to Argentavis). Its wings were even more proportionally long and narrow than those of the largest flying birds alive today, the albatrosses. In comparison, its body was fairly small. There were, of course, some species of Pelagornis that were smaller than this, reaching only 4 meters long in terms of wingspan. Still, this large wingspan size is really only characteristic of these birds in flight - compressed, they would have looked much smaller, especially given that they were very light weight. They had stout legs and shorter tails, which indicates that they weren’t very good walkers, and spent most of their time in the air or sitting on the land. 

By Jack Wood

Diet: Probably fish. The pseudoteeth are likely an adaptation to grab and hold onto large fish. Similar toothlike serrations are seen, albeit much less exaggerated, in modern mergansers, which also eat fish. In addition, the vertical position of the head would have allowed Pelagornis to skim-feed, grabbing fish and other aquatic organisms from the top layer of the ocean and scooping them into their mouths. Thus, the fake-teeth would have allowed Pelagornis to grab onto fish better than non-toothed skim feeding birds. It may have also used these sharp fake teeth in order to grab onto the slipperiest fish and cephalopods - rather than harder shelly animals. 

By Scott Reid

Behavior: As with modern seabirds, Pelagornis likely spent most of its time out at sea. Gliding on oceanic thermals would have helped to support its huge body in the air without wasting energy just to stay aloft - which was important, since it wasn’t very good at flapping its wings and would have had trouble staying aloft long enough to get food if it had to flap too frequently. Think an albatross, but a giant, evil albatross. Landing and taking off would have been more awkward, though. It probably needed to take advantage of headwinds, drops in elevation and/or air gusts to get into the air at all. Albatrosses also kinda have this problem, but nowhere near to the same extent. The late appearance of the pseudoteeth implies that Pelagornis may have fed its young back on land like many modern seabirds before they could feed themselves out at sea. As such, they would have sought out good nesting sites, which may correspond to where fossils of Pelagornis are found - indicating that their spread around the world was greater than that we know of. Since it was a sea bird, it probably would have been very social, living in large colonies - and it would have cared for its young in similar social groups. In fact, it seems more likely than not that it would have laid its nests on cliffs and in rocky areas and plateaus, where being able to take off would have been easier than flatter, sandier beaches. Whether or not these animals were as noisy as modern seabirds is really another question altogether. 

By Jack Wood

Interestingly enough, Pelagornis had a salt gland in the eye that would have allowed it to excrete excess salt, which was an extremely helpful trait when Pelagornis ate almost entirely seafood. That seafood diet didn’t meant it wasn’t a danger, however - today, seabirds will venture away from the coasts in order to scavenge food on the beach, and they are certainly defensive of their nests, young, and territory. Also fascinatingly, it had a very very very long skull - with all of those pseudoteeth packed in - which had similar shapes and organization as to the extinct really toothed birds of the Mesozoic. This implies that there was a certain amount of evolutionary regression in Pelagornis, allowing it to better support its teeth and chomping ability than it would otherwise. There is also an interesting furrow in the skull, which allowed it to be better support the head and possibly to better grab prey in the ocean. 

By Scott Reid

Ecosystem: Pelagornis lived around coastlines worldwide. Because of this, it is difficult to pinpoint with certainty the types of animals it lived with. In fact, it was so long-lived and widespread it is more likely than not that Pelgaornis interacted with any ocean-going creature or animal found along the coast. It doesn’t seem to have a preference in the fossil record between rocky coasts or beaches, though it did seem to stay in at least somewhat warmer ecosystems and where cliffs would have been present for easier take-offs (and it is reasonable to suppose that cliff areas would have been its preferred place for nesting). Some notable animals it would have interacted with include extinct penguins, cetaceans, the famed giant shark Megalodon and… humans. Yup, Pelagornis is known from locations where early members of genus Homo ventured to. So, if you can imagine being afraid of a giant bird with fake teeth a little too well, that would be the instincts of your ancestors talking. 

By Scott Reid

Other: Pelagornis is a fun time, classification wise, for multiple reasons: one, a whole bunch of different types of Pseudotoothed birds are actually, apparently, species of Pelagornis; and two, we don’t really know what Pseudotoothed birds really are. So, let’s break this down into those two parts. What’s going on with the species? Well, in the 2010s, a lot of research has been made that shows a bunch of the Neogene Pseudotoothed birds that we’ve counted as different genera are actually… just… part of Pelagornis. Why Wikipedia has not chosen to update their information as to this effect is beyond me, but the fact remains is that a lot of Pseudotoothed birds are just different shades of Pelagornis, primarily due to the fact that they really… aren’t different. In fact, a lot of the differences were just based on time and place, and the fact that Pseudotoothed birds weren’t really well known at all. The loss of Osteodontornis is a bit of a bummer, but there aren’t any major differences between this genus and Pelagornis, so it’s gone. We’ve also lost Pseudodontornis, you know, the name that actually means “fake toothed bird”, unlike the crappy name for Pelagornis, which just means Sea Bird. Like, come on people. Why are we here. Just to suffer. We’ve also lost Palaeochenoides, Neodontornis, and Tympanonesiotes. Hence the extreme amount of art in this article - the last time I covered Pseudotoothed birds, these were separate. So we have an abundance of terrifying tooth art. 

By José Carlos Cortés

Finally - what the heck are Pseudotoothed birds? We don’t know. We really don’t know where they go. Are they related to the sea birds we have today (the Aequorlitornithes)? Are they related to ducks? Are they something else entirely? We have no idea, because, frankly, they seem to just appear in the fossil record without any sort of origin whatsoever. Like magic. Suddenly, toothed birds were back like the asteroid never hit. Honestly if I were to hazard a guess, based on the fossil characteristics, they’re probably none of the above - but an early branching group of Neognathous (aka, all birds that aren’t ratites and their cousins) birds that evolved from a non-easily fossilized ancestor. Whether that ancestor had weak bones or just lived in places where fossils don’t happen is a different question entirely, but either way, so far we have nothing. They just appear, in the Paleocene, out of nowhere. And, eventually, Pelagornis also disappeared. 

By Jack Wood

Why did Pelagornis, the latest surviving species disappear? The most likely answer is climate change. The onset of the ice age would have caused extreme changes to the water patterns, currents, and air flow. Since Pelagornis didn’t flap its wings much, and relied almost entirely on soaring and thermals, it probably would have been greatly affected by changes in these weather patterns. So, changes in the ocean and the air by the ice age would have decreased its ability to reach food, and then the dramatic changes in its home climate would have been a further death knell. Interestingly enough, they only began to become uncommon right before they became extinct - indicating that Pelagornis really was finished off by this change in climate. Which is sad, because that’s right around when humans were becoming more of a thing, and it would have been nice to see one of these things in life. Except it wouldn’t have been. Because they’re terrifying. But I laugh in the face of danger. I think. I dunno I just think they’re neat. 

By Scott Reid

Species Differences: The different species of Pelagornis differ primarily due to location and time, though there are some differences in shape and size - those fossils that were once assigned to Tympanonesiotes, for example, were on average smaller than other members of this genus. The largest known species was decidedly Pelagornis sandersi, though the best known species is Pelagornis chilensis. For now, however, Pelagornis is kind of a mess, since so much research is needed on this species complex to make sure things are where they belong and one genus is enough, so species differences are difficult to parse out until more research has been published on the subject. Just know that there were a lot of Pelagornis - and they came in all kinds of different shapes and sizes all over the place.

~ By Meig Dickson and Henry Thomas

Sources Under the Cut 

Becker, J.J. (1987): Neogene avian localities of North America. Smithsonian Research Monographs 1. Prentice Hall & IBD.

Bourdon, Estelle (2005): Osteological evidence for sister group relationship between pseudo-toothed birds (Aves: Odontopterygiformes) and waterfowls (Anseriformes). Naturwissenschaften 92(12): 586–591.

Brodkorb, Pierce (1963): Catalogue of fossil birds. Part 1 (Archaeopterygiformes through Ardeiformes). Bulletin of the Florida State Museum, Biological Sciences 7(4): 179–293.

Cenizo, M., C. Acosta Hospitaleche, and M. Reguero. 2016. Diversity of pseudo-toothed birds (Pelagornithidae) from the Eocene of Antarctica. Journal of Paleontology 89 (5): 870 - 881.

Hastings, A. K., and A. C. Dooley. 2017. Fossil-collecting from the middle Miocene Carmel Church Quarry marine ecosystem in Caroline County, Virginia. The Geological Society of America Field Guide 47:77-88

Hopson, James A. (1964): Pseudodontornis and other large marine birds from the Miocene of South Carolina. Postilla 83: 1–19.

Ksepka, D.T. 2014. Flight performance of the largest volant bird. PNAS 111: 10624-10629.

Louchart, A., Sire, J.-Y., Mourer-Chauvire, C., Geraads, d., viriot, L., de Buffrenil, V. 2013. Structure and Growth Pattern of Pseudoteeth in Pelagornis mauretanicus (Aves, Odontopterygiformes, Pelagornithidae). PLoS One 8(11): e80372.

Mayr, G. 2009. Paleogene Fossil Birds. Springer-Verlag Berlin Heidelberg.

Mayr, G., D. Rubilar-Rogers. 2010. Osteology of a new giant bony-toothed bird from the Miocene of Chile, with a revision of the taxonomy of Neogene Pelagornithidae. Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology 30 (5): 1313-1330.

Mayr, G., J. L. Goedert, S. A. McLeod. 2013. Partial Skeleton of a Bony-Toothed Bird from the Late Oligocene/Early Miocene of Oregon (USA) and the Systematics of Neogene Pelagornithidae. Journal of Paleontology 87 (5): 922 - 929.

Mayr, G. 2017. Avian Evolution: The Fossil Record of Birds and its Paleobiological Significance. Topics in Paleobiology, Wiley Blackwell. West Sussex.

McKee, Joseph W.A. (1985). "A pseudodontorn (Pelecaniformes: Pelagornithidae) from the middle Pliocene of Hawera, Taranaki, New Zealand". New Zealand Journal of Zoology. 12 (2): 181–184.

Mlíkovský, Jirí (2002): Cenozoic Birds of the World, Part 1: Europe. Ninox Press, Prague.

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[animeniacss]

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 11 - Eyes Always On Me

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.8k words

Chapter 11 - Eyes Always On Me

 When Taehyung woke up that Sunday morning, his body was sore. His arms ached, his feet and calves throbbed from all of the walking and standing he had to do when he spoke to anybody who stopped to look at his stall. A deep, hoarse groan escaped his lips, and his eyes fluttered open, but immediately shut when the bright light hit his eyes. “No, go away.” Taehyung groaned, immediately turning on his stomach and nestling his head under one of the pillows. However, the light was determined to get Taehyung out of bed. “Please, it’s not a school daaaaay….” He continued to groan as if the sunlight was hearing him. When the sunlight showed no signs of giving up, he huffed, closing his eyes as much as he could, to the point where the stress started to give him a headache. Finally, he gave up, sitting up in his bed and looking around the room. His curtains were drawn, and when he looked at the alarm clock, 7:30 a.m. flashed on the screen. Taehyung’s lips pouted a little bit, before immediately falling back onto the bed, his arms and legs stretching out to the point where the hands and feet fell off of the bed.

            After a moment longer of Taehyung contemplating standing up, Taehyung finally got up when the sound of his ever-growling stomach told him he didn’t have a choice anymore. He rolled out of bed, standing on his stone legs as they dragged him into the kitchen. When he got in there, he looked around. Paintings that he didn’t sell the previous day were resting against the back of the couch both him and Jimin too lazy to put them away. Speaking of Jimin, Taehyung noticed a tiny arm draped over the couch, and a foot poking off of the side. When he walked over, he peered over to see Jimin, eyes shut, and a peaceful expression on his face. He remembered Jimin collapsing after their final trip up the stairs with all of Taehyungs leftover paintings, Taehyung could remember seeing how tired Jimin was after all that work, they both were. As Taehyung looked down at his friend, he couldn’t help but smile fondly down at him. He walked around to the front of the couch, sitting in front of the couch as he watched his friend continue to sleep unbothered. Taehyung snickered to himself, immediately reaching out to take Jimin’s hand, and yanking the man down onto the floor. He could see Jimin’s eyes shoot open when he felt his body shift, and he let out a yelp as he fell onto the floor. Taehyung looked down at him, a grin on his face.

            Jimin sat up, rubbing the arm that was just tugged. “What was that for?!” He asked, pouting angrily.

            “My body has officially fallen onto work time. If I don’t get to sleep in, neither do you.” Taehyung explained simply. When he saw his explanation did not make Jimin feel better, he patted his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s eat since we’re up now.”

            “…I’ll go back to sleep!” Jimin gasped, only to be ignored as Taehyung stood up, walking back towards the little kitchen. Jimin groaned, standing up and following behind him. Tae, you’re so mean. After all, I do for you, too…” Taehyung looked over his shoulder as he walked towards the fridge, opening it.

            “Yeah, I know,” Taehyung said, peering into the shining light from his fridge. “Want some eggs and pancakes?”

            “Yyeeeeaah, I guess,” Jimin mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He pushed Taehyung aside gently, taking his place in front of the fridge. “I’ll do it so we don’t burn the house down.”

            “Hey, I’m learning how to cook, Jimin,” Taehyung said, crossing his arms.

            Jimin snickered a bit. “Do you give the keys to someone who is only learning how to drive?” Taehyung blinked.

            “...Yes! That’s how they learn.” Jimin couldn’t help but continue to laugh.

            “Just go wash your face and shower or something. I got it.” Taehyung sighed, walking back into his bedroom. When he walked towards his end table, he noticed his phone light up. When he walked over, he saw a group chat message blocking his background. Lifting it, he saw Hoseok-Hyung, squished between two sun emojis. Underneath his name was Bright Star Preschool Gang, a group chat who he could only guess was involving the rest of his coworkers.

Taeeehyunggiieeee~ :o That was so much fun today! You’re so talented! Thank you for the invitation! (Sent 9:35 p.m.)

Taehyung? O.O (Sent 9:45 p.m.)

Taehyung chuckled a bit, as he saw Hoseok send a few emojis to the chat, said he didn’t receive a response. Then, Yoongi responded.

He’s probably asleep! Stop blowing up the chat, Hoseok! Go to bed! (Sent 9:47 p.m.)

Hoseok sent his reply. Yoongi-Hyung, you’re mean >.< (Sent 9:48 p.m.)

Seokjin’s text is what broke everything up. Goodnight, everyone! See you all Monday! Dream of Worldwide Handsome for pleasant thoughts. ~ Zzzzzzz ~ (Sent 9:55 p.m.)

The rest of the chat after that consisted of two roasts of Seokjin’s text, before the chat went silent, most likely because people began to sleep. Taehyung was already on his third dream by 9:30 last night, no wonder he missed all the replies. However, he figured he should reply.

Thanks, guys. I hope you had fun. (Sent 7:45 a.m.)

As Taehyung set his phone back down, he shuffled into his bathroom, hoping a nice, warm shower would stimulate his senses and get him up and ready for the day. Or, you know, relax his muscles and put him back to sleep. He hoped for the latter but was doubtful. As the water ran, and Taehyung tossed his dirty clothes into his hamper, he hopped in and let the warm water take over his body. It helped his tense and sore muscles, that was for sure. The sizzling heat of the water made the shoulders he didn’t even know were tense fall limp, and his forehead rested against the wall of the shower.

            He wasn’t sure how long he stood in the shower, but he knew it was long enough for Jimin to finish breakfast. The sound of his friend walking into the bedroom and calling his name made his stand straight in the shower, running a hand through his damp hair. “I’ll be right out,” Taehyung shouted from behind the violent pitter-patter of the showerhead. Quickly, Taehyung washed himself up, shook his hair out, and turned off the shower. As the fluffy towel wrapped around his waist, he lifted his phone and turned it over. All he saw was one response to the group chat. From you.

            It was fun. Let us know next time you’re at another show (Sent 8:15 a.m.)

            Taehyung felt a smile form across his face, simply responding to the text with a smile. After exiting the bathroom, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a grey tee-shirt, he saw Jimin still standing by the door frame into the hallway.

“You okay?” Jimin asked curiously.

“Just fine,” Taehyung said, a smile still present on his face as his hand falling into his hair and giving it another shake to get any hidden droplets of water out. Jimin nodded, before leading Taehyung into the kitchen, where the smell of a delicious breakfast waited on the table for both of them.

The rest of Taehyung’s Sunday was about as exciting as anyone expected. After breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung lounged on the couch, watching TV and just relaxing after a long day of standing in the heat. Taehyung found himself curled up, paper and pencil in his hand as he doodled away, the sound of the previous night’s music show performance playing the background, as Jimin had set it on the record before the duo passed out. Jimin had gotten a glimpse, as it was the same picture that he was still trying to fully trace out on the ride home from the festival. It was just about done, and with every scratch of the pencil, the picture came more and more to life. When it was completed, Taehyung slid it onto his desk, safe until he was ready to add color to his beautiful creation. With his hands empty, he was itching for something to fill them. He wanted to keep drawing, to keep creating, he didn’t care what it was. He grabbed a few stacks of paper and set them on his lap, and Jimin looked over.

“You’re inspired lately, aren’t you?” He asked curiously. Taehyung nodded, smiling at his friend. “That picture came out nice. Do you plan to give it to her?” Now, the beaming smile on Taehyung’s face faded, and a hint of red was found on his cheeks. “What? Is that a no?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it. What if she thinks it’s weird that I drew her?”

“But it looks so good that I’m sure she would like it. It’s an honor to be drawn by a famous artist.”

“Tch, what?”

“Sorry. Future famous artist.” Jimin corrected, nodding his head. Taehyung rolled his eyes. Jimin watched as Taehyung put his pencil back on the paper, and immediately began to sketch. The silence made Jimin knew Taehyung had no interest in continuing that conversation, so he shrugged, turning back to the performance on the TV. “Okay, fine. Do what you want. But I think she would like it.” He said simply.

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Even though Taehyung had no reason or intention of ever giving you that picture, so he was unsure why he decided to fold it and place it in his pocket Monday morning as he headed out the door of his apartment. However, he did, and now he was standing by the front entrance of the school building with you and Hoseok, waiting for the children to arrive.

You glanced up at the sky, which was darkening with every new storm cloud that rolled its way into Seoul. The sun was still trying it’s best to shine through, and you squinted your eyes only slightly. “It looks like it’s going to rain.”

“Yeah. The weather said it’s supposed to start at noon and go all day. Thunderstorms here and there, too.” Hoseok added. You sighed.

“I hope the thunder waits until the kids go home.” You begged, crossing your arms. You glanced at Taehyung and saw him looking back at you. “Last time there was a thunderstorm, all of the kids clung to me and Hoseok in tears except for Yeonjun. They were hysterical crying. I had to put on a movie at full volume, and that barely helped at all.” Taehyung chuckled.

“Aww, poor things.” He said. “If it thunders, I’ll come in and help out.” He assured. You nodded your head, a small smile forming on your lips as you turned to see the first car pull up. The door opened, and Ryujin was pulled out of the car by her mother, before quickly turning around to grab her polka dot umbrella and rubber rain hat. You smiled, waving the little girl over as she hugged her mom, before hurrying over to you.

“Mommy said it’s supposed to thundastorm today. So, I’m ready!” She lifted her umbrella above her head with two hands, as if she were lifting weights, and you smiled.

“Okay, good. Well, it’s not raining now, so how about I take this-.” You took the umbrella and set it against the wall. “-And you can go play until more friends get here.” Ryujin nodded, hurrying to the playground just as you saw more cars approaching. When the bright, red car pulled up, Taehyung watched you walk over to the front entrance. Immediately, he stuck his hand into his pocket as he followed.

Hoseok blinked, watching as Taehyung followed behind you. Hoseok could be a bit naïve, and a bit crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. Hoseok followed behind, but only until he reached the jungle gym that Ryujin was playing on, watching as you and Taehyung continued a few more feet ahead. Taehyung was following you like a puppy, whether he was lost or protective was undecided, however, he was a puppy nonetheless. When Hoseok saw Namjoon step out of the red car, he simultaneously saw Taehyung scoot himself securely beside you. Hoseok, for only a moment, felt the urge to storm over and pull Taehyung far away from you, to the other end of the school if he had to.

One thought kept flowing through his mind. If anyone should be so worried about protecting her, it shouldn’t be the guy who she only just started to be nice too. He stood beside the monkey bars as a war raged on in his mind. If he did anything, it wouldn’t make him look good, He wouldn’t win, and he knew that.

But god, he hated the view in front of him right now.

“Mr. Hobi, look!” He heard Ryujin shout. Almost immediately, he turned towards the little girl, who was hanging upside down from the monkey bars, a wide grin on her face. “Hehehe, hiiii!” She laughed. Hoseok gasped, hurrying to her side immediately and grabbing her. From the corner of his eye, he saw both you and Taehyung turn towards the scene from the entrance.

“Ryujin, don’t do that! You could fall and hit your head!” Ryujin didn’t seem phased, lifting herself by her arms back onto the monkey bars. Hoseok sighed, resting against the frame as he watched her swing gleefully. It was only a matter of time before a few more kids joined her, shouting their hellos to Hoseok as they ran onto the playground. He smiled at them, saying his hellos. When he saw Kai run over, he glanced back over to the trio at the front door. He couldn’t see Taehyung’s face, but he could sense Taehyung was annoyed. Great minds think alike, it seemed.

“We should get inside,” Taehyung said quickly, making you look up at him. “It looks like it could rain at any minute.”

“It’s not supposed to until noon. Hoseok said so.” You said simply. “Why are you in such a rush?”

            “Yeah, there’s no rush,” Namjoon said, smiling. Taehyung glared at the taller gentleman.

            “…Don’t you like, have a job you should be getting to or something?” He asked curiously. You immediately nudged Taehyung in the side, making his groan. “Ow.”

            “You are so rude. If you’re so worried about the rain, go inside. I can’t go inside anyway; I need to wait until the day starts so all the parents have a chance to get here on time.” Taehyung sighed.

            “Right. Sorry.” He said simply. You watched Taehyung walk towards the playground, where a few of the kids who noticed him called out his name. You looked at Namjoon, who chuckled.

            “Sorry about him.” You said Namjoon shrugged.

            “He doesn’t bother me.” Namjoon admitted, “He can do what he wants.” Namjoon saw you smile, and he felt his chest tighten a bit. “So, Uhm…can I be annoying and ask about dinner again?” He asked. Both of you giggled a bit. Taehyung immediately looked over at the mention of the word ‘dinner’ hitting his eardrums. “I just want to know what works best for you.”

            “Well…” you hummed, pressing your fingers together in thought. “Give me until the end of the day to look at my planner, okay?” You asked. “Will you be picking up Kai?” Namjoon nodded. “Then I’ll hopefully have an answer for you by then.” You offered him a kind smile, and Namjoon nodded.

            “I can live with that. I’ll uh…I’ll see you later then.” He said simply. You nodded, waving him off as he walked back to his car. Taehyung felt relief lift from his chest as he heard the car door shut, but was a bit shocked to hear Hoseok let out a sigh of relief as well. He glanced over at his Hyung, who was watching Yuna go down the slide with Yeji, the duo laughing hysterically as they hit the bottom.

            Namjoon, meanwhile, started up his car and looked towards you from the window. You greeted a few more parents and kids, and he rolled down his window, the noise grabbing your attention.

            “Have a good day today.” He said. You offered him a gentle smile, waving your hand.

            “You too. Work hard.” Namjoon nodded.

            “Well, now I have to since you asked me too.” He said. You nodded, giggling a bit before watching his car drive away. As the last group of parents left, you sighed and turned to the children.

            “Alright! Everyone, let’s get in a line and start our day! Come on!” You shouted, alerting the attention of all the children on the playground. A few kids were upset, wanting to continue their games outside, but they all got off the playground and formed a line behind Hoseok, backpacks in hand. Taehyung looked at you as you walked over.

            “I’ll see you later then.” He said simply. You nodded at him.

            “See you later.” You said. Taehyung waved you off, as well as the kids, before disappearing into the school building. It wasn’t long before you followed behind him, a string of tiny children filing in as well.

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            For Kim Taehyung, the day came and went in a blur. The rain had begun pelting the walls of Bright Star Preschool, leaving all the inhabitants stuck inside most likely for the rest of the day. Taehyung didn’t mind though, that normally meant he had a bit of a long time with the kids, so he could do more elaborate crafts with them. He was so busy preparing the craft for the day in his room. He was also thinking about Kim Namjoon, but that part he didn’t speak out loud. As he laid out twenty pieces of construction paper, twenty safety scissors, twenty glue sticks, and a pile of different manipulatives in the center of the tables, he thought back to that morning. The way Kim Namjoon smiled in your direction, the way his dimples poked out when he laughed at any stupid thing that came out of your mouth. The way he hovered over you, practically drooling over your every move. It made Taehyung sick, and he couldn’t stomach to watch it anymore.

            “I just hope she doesn’t agree to go on a date with that clown,” Taehyung mumbled to himself.

            “What clown?” He heard a voice chime behind him. As a pile of manipulatives fell out of his hands and onto the floor, Taehyung turned and saw Kim Seokjin, standing behind him with a playful grin on his face. “Who is going on a date and didn’t tell me?”

            “Hy- Uhm, hello President Kim.” Taehyung laughed nervously. Seokjin smiled a bit. “Sorry, it’s nothing important.”

            “It seemed to be more important than answering me the fifteen times I called your name.” Though Seokjin was only teasing, Taehyung immediately felt guilty.

            “Sorry. I guess I was lost in thought there.” He mumbled. Seokjin smiled, patting his friend on the shoulder.

            “You okay? I heard from the two little teacher birdies that you seemed a bit agitated when school started.”

            Did she mention me? Was she concerned…or annoyed? Probably the latter. Taehyung thought to himself. He only nodded, before bending down to pick up the stuff he had dropped on the floor moment prior.

            “Yeah. I’m just fine.” He repeated. “Just making sure I have everything ready for the kids when they come in later.” Seokjin nodded. “I uh…I need to find something,” Taehyung said, immediately turning his back to his boss.

            “Well if you need me, I’ll be in my office,” Seokjin said. Taehyung nodded, and Seokjin watched as he walked back to his desk. When Taehyung knelt to open and examine the inside of one of his drawers, Seokjin could see his brows furrow in annoyance, his lips curled into a slight pout as he frantically searched for whatever it was that he needed.

            That drawer was empty.

            Seokjin chuckled, simply walking out the door, closing it behind him, and allowing Taehyung to have his privacy back. He walked back to his office, hands in his pockets. When he passed your classroom, he heard a faint rumbling. Through the window, he saw tiny figures jumping up and down. he peeked his head in for a moment. As soon as he opened the door, loud music entered his ears. The kids were bouncing in their spots, cheering and giggling. When he looked up, you and Hoseok were in the front of the room, belting at the top of their lungs as a song about the alphabet played behind them. Seokjin watched for a moment, resting against the door frame. The music was so loud, on top of the loud voices of both you and Hoseok, that Seokjin could barely hear the rain pelting against the brick walls outside here. Rumbles of thunder seemed no louder than the sound of toys hitting the floor on a regular day in this classroom. As the song ended, you and Hoseok stopped, and Seokjin could see that you were both out of breath from exerting tons of energy.

            “Oh, hello President Kim.” You hummed, fixing your hair. The kids looked over from their dancing spots and grinned as Seokjin offered them an enthusiastic wave.

            “Did you see us dance?” Kai asked curiously. Seokjin noticed how close he had put himself to you on the carpet, and how quickly he reached up to take your hand upon the song’s completion.

            “I did. You’ll have to show me later, okay?” Seokjin begged. The kids nodded before Hoseok eagerly encouraged them back into their seats. The thunder continued to rumble across the sky, and now that the song was over, a few kids were made aware of it.

            “Teacher, it’s thunderin’.” Yuna gasped, covering her ears. You smiled a bit, turning back to the computer. 

            “Well, we have a bit more time before our break is over. How about we put on some…Pororo?” You gasped. The kids, who acted as if they had just won the lottery, began gasping and screaming in absolute glee. Seokjin chuckled, and saw the kid closest to him, Soobin, turn to face him.

            “Will you watch with us?” He asked curiously. Seokjin knelt to Soobin’s level and smiled.

            “I have to go do boring grown-up work now. Maybe next time, okay?” Soobin looked a bit disappointed, however, still nodded his head in slight understanding. When Seokjin glanced up, he saw you preparing to play the video. However, until it was on, the thunder continued to cause some of the children some panic. “Do you think you’ll need a hand in here, Teacher?” Seokjin asked. “I can ask Mr. Kim to come in and join you guys.” Hoseok and you both glanced up at your boss. Similar to Taehyung, he noticed your brows furrow for a moment. “Is that alright?”

            You heard a few kids get excited at the thought of Taehyung joining them to watch Pororo, especially because President Kim was unable to. You were still wary of him after his behavior with Namjoon this morning but knew there was no use in being petty. Not anymore. “If he has the time, I guess.” You replied simply. Seokjin nodded, before heading out of the room. He immediately hurried down to the art room once again and opened the door. Now, Taehyung was sitting at his desk, hunched over and scribbling. “Taehyung.” He called. The male immediately looked up.

            “Yes?” He asked curiously.

            “Are you done setting up for your craft?” he asked curiously. Taehyung nodded. “Good. Would you mind sitting in with the kids for a little while? They’re watching a show for the rest of their break, and the thunder is starting to bother them a bit. I figure the more hands in the room, the better.”

            “Uh…yeah, sure,” Taehyung said, standing up. He stuffed something in his pocket, and Seokjin smiled a bit. “I don’t mind.”

            “Awesome, thanks.” Seokjin grinned. “I have to get back to the office and do some work, so I’ll be in there if anyone needs me.” Taehyung nodded, before following Seokjin out. They walked together in silence for a moment, before Taehyung diverged into your classroom.

            When he stepped inside, the kids had already gathered on the carpet. A few, more specifically Yuna and Lia, were resting against Hoseok, still, a bit shook by the thunder they had heard. They have fixated on it despite the show started, and Hoseok was quietly trying to divert their attention away from it. Kai was sitting close to you, as you pulled your laptop closer to the rug, typing away as Kai sat beside you to watch the show. When Taehyung walked in, he saw your eyes dart up in his direction. “Hey.” He said.

            “Hey.” A few kids turned around and gasped.

            “Mr. Kim!” Yeonjun cheered, a grin forming on his face. Taehyung smiled, walking over and plopping himself in one of the tiny chairs. Yeonjun giggled at Taehyung, who seemed out of place in the child’s chair. “You look silly.”

            “Yeonjun, we’re listening to the show.” You hummed quietly, and Yeonjun immediately went silent. It made Taehyung chuckle a bit. Once the children’s attention was diverted to the show, he slipped his hand back into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper from before. Opening it up, he glanced up at you. It was a picture he had been doodling every free chance he had gotten since this morning. A picture of you, glaring in his direction with intensity after his little stunt with Namjoon. He wasn’t sure if he had been difficult on purpose, hoping to get a reaction from you, but Taehyung liked to tell himself that he did and that the harsh nudge from you was worth it. He kept his pencil quiet as he flicked and swiped it along with the paper, making sure to carefully include every feature that he could. Every so often, he would look up, and see that you were either typing away on your computer, or scanning the kids to check that they were behaving during the show. You were heavily fixated on the screen before you. Every angle he saw you at made him more and more eager to continue.

            He had planned to continue it now, while he had the chance. However, he heard the faint sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. When he glanced up, he saw a few of the kids cling to Hoseok, who only chuckled a bit in amusement. He couldn’t help but smile as well. However, Taehyung’s thoughts were interrupted when he felt a tug on his pant leg. Glancing down, he saw Yeonjun, eyes still fixated on the dancing penguin playing on the screen. However, each time Taehyung heard another rumble, Yeonjun’s grip on his pant leg even tighter. Taehyung watched him for a moment, not saying anything. However, he simply slid his folded paper into his pocket and slid off the chair beside Yeonjun. The little boy glanced up, and Taehyung patted his head.

            “You okay?” he asked softly. Yeonjun nodded, his grip still tight on Taehyung’s pants. He smiled. “Okay,” Taehyung said, turning his eyes towards the TV screen.

            This time, while Taehyung was fixated on the screen before him, he didn’t catch you being the one to stare in his direction.

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            Before the school knew it, the day had come to an end. The rain was still raging outside, there was absolutely no way that you could take the children outside for pick up. When this normally happened, Seokjin offered to wait out by the door, allowing parents into the building to pick up their children. Until then, you remained in the classroom, finishing up your day before simply allowing the children to engage in some free play. The children scattered around the room, some girls gathered together to play with a dollhouse, while some boys race cars on one of the tables. A few kids doodled in coloring books with Hoseok and Taehyung, while you sat at your desk to finish up some work, and monitor the children’s playlist that was playing in the background. The room was filled with chattered and business, so it wasn’t boring in the least. It was moments like this that was your absolute favorite because it felt intimate yet still private. Students could do their own thing while interacting with one another in a small space. It was nice.

            Taehyung watched from time to time as parents strolled in to pick up their children, shaking their boots and umbrella off before helping their child slide into their little raincoats and hats. Yeji looked especially cute in her little polka dot rainhat and matching rain boots.

            “Bye Teacher!” Yeji shouted, waving towards you. You smiled, waving her off as she left the room with her hand tightly clutching her mothers. You turned towards Kai, who was sitting by the carpet with Yeonjun and Taehyun, all three pushing around a set of cars on a little track. Taehyung looked up from the paper on his lap as he watched you lean forward, pointing at one of the cars, and Kai eagerly handing it to you. He smiled a bit, glancing back down at his picture from this morning, which was almost done. He was excited to finish it. He could already see it on a canvas, splattered in lovely colors. His mind was racing as he scribbled away, hard at work.

            “What are you drawing, Mr. Kim?” He heard Beomgyu ask curiously. He glanced over at the little boy, who was scribbling away at a blank piece of paper.

            “Nothing.” He said simply, smiling. “What about you?” Beomgyu grinned, looking down at his picture.

            “A rocket.” The child beamed in glee. Taehyung chuckled a bit as Beomgyu continued to explain the intricate childlike methods of his rocket. As he listened, he heard the door open. When he glanced up, he saw a familiar figure step into the room. He scowled a little bit, especially when he heard Kai shout.

            “Hi, Daddy!” Taehyung watched the little boy run to his father, who scooped him up immediately and hugged him tightly.

            “Hi there, Kai. Did you have a good day?”

            “Mhm. We watched Pororo and learned about the alphabet. We sung a funny song.”

            “Ooooh, a funny song, and I missed it? Will you sing it to me at home?” Kai nodded eagerly, his eyes beaming at the thought. “Okay, well I need to talk to your teacher first. Go get your coat.” He set his son down, who hurried over to the little cubby beside the door, where his belongings rested. Taehyung watched as Namjoon made his way over to you, and you stood up. When you caught Taehyung staring, you immediately gave him a glare that read ‘mind your own business’. Taehyung huffed, looking back down at his picture as he continued to scribble away, pouting.

            “Have you made a decision?” Namjoon asked. You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Namjoon rested his hand against your desk as he waited for an answer. However, he applied too much weight, causing his hand to slip slightly and send a small stack of children’s papers on the floor nearby. “Woah.” Namjoon immediately knelt. “I’m sorry.”

            “That’s okay.” You said, kneeling beside him as you both quickly picked them up. Yeonjun lifted a paper that fluttered beside him, handing it to you. “Thank you, honey.” You smiled. When you looked at Namjoon, who only offered a shy smile in response.

            “Sorry.” Before you could respond to his second apology, a deep chuckle was heard from the nearby table. Glancing over, you saw Taehyung cover his mouth with his hand, but you could see the amused grin behind it. You frowned, glancing at Namjoon.

            “Let me clean this up and I’ll meet you outside.” You said simply. Namjoon nodded. When he got up, he turned to check the status of his son. Kai had gotten distracted by Yuna and Chaeryeong at the dollhouse and was crouching beside them to watch. “Give Kai a few more minutes to play.”            

            “Right.” He said. He turned on his heel as you finished cleaning up the pictures. Taehyung kept his eyes on his paper as he heard Namjoon walk behind him. He decided to ignore him until he felt Namjoon glance down over his shoulder. He looked over, a confused look on his face. Then he heard him mumble: “Cute picture. You are an artist. It looks just like her.” Taehyung immediately pressed the picture against his chest, glaring up at the taller man as he exited the room. When he glanced at you, you were just a few paces behind him. Taehyung sighed, trying not to let his anger get to him as he simply folded the picture once against and put it in his pocket.

            Taehyung watched the door close behind you and Namjoon. He couldn’t see you, much less hear you, and that made it worse. He could only imagine what corny and pathetic things Namjoon was saying to you. We’re in a preschool, damn it, have some decency. Taehyung thought to himself as he watched intensely. The conversation on the other side of the door seemed to last forever before Namjoon finally opened the door. He stuck his head in and called his son’s name. Immediately, Kai got up, following his dad out, and they left without anything except a goodbye to you. Once he saw them gone, Taehyung hopped from his seat, alerting Hoseok from the other side of the room. Taehyung walked out the door, catching you before you could go back inside.

            “So, what happened?” Taehyung asked. You raised an eyebrow, watching as Taehyung peered around the corner. “You have a date?”

            “Why do you care? You’re not my boyfriend or my father, Taehyung.” You said simply. He could sense how annoyed you were, but he didn’t care. Finally, you scoffed. “Why? We’re you going to ask me out Friday night?”

            “Maybe,” Taehyung said simply. When he realized what he said, he immediately dropped his eyes to you. Your eyes were wide, almost as much as he was. Shit. Think fast, Kim Taehyung before you die. Almost immediately, a boxy smile formed on his face. “Kidding.” He said. You rolled your eyes, nudging him.

            “You better mind your own business, Kim Taehyung.” You demanded, before pushing past him and storming inside. Taehyung groaned, hearing the door to the class close behind him. He looked down at his picture, which he pulled out only slightly from his pocket.

       ��    That glare of yours never really changed now, did it?

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