#sorry I love my silly little oc universe that no one else cares about

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

cross my heart (pt. 4)

spencer reid x oc

‘to secure peace, is to prepare for war.’ 

karl von clausewitz

cross my heart masterlist

word count: 2836

Spencer decided he didn't want to just be a casual acquaintance any more. He had almost died on his most recent case, and while this was a more common occurrence, something about this time was different. And he decided not to waste any more time, and to stop being such a chicken.

He offered a small smile to Raye from across the cafe once he saw her. It was ten at night, which was fairly early for both of them to be there. She held up the book she was reading, making him grin as he saw it. She had finally agreed to give War And Peace a read, and was slowly making her way through it.

He could only pretend to read, his own thoughts distracting him. There was an open lecture that he knew she would be interested in, and had already reserved two seats. Now, he just had to build up the confidence to ask.

It took him an hour.

But eventually, Spencer had finished his book a hundred times over, and his coffee had gone cold. There was no more avoiding it. He stood, walking over to Raye’s table. Her tongue was sticking out of the side of her mouth as she focused on her book, and Spencer had to bite back a laugh when she jumped in surprise, “oh! You scared me!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. You were very engrossed,” he said with a fond smile. She smiled in return, “yeah, well, a book like this requires all my attention. I still have to google what half the words mean.”

He chuckled, before they fell into a kind of awkward silence. Spencer cleared his throat, before speaking again, “I was actually wondering... uh. There’s an open lecture on this weekend, it’s called ‘The Queen of English Literature Debate,’ Jane Austen versus Emily Bronte. The guest lecturer is flying in all the way from Scotland to travel around America, giving the lecture in different universities, and from the reviews I’ve read on it, it’s supposed to be amazing. Is that... something you would be interested in going to? Maybe with me?”

Raye blinked up at him, before her lips parted, as if she was going to say something, but then didn't. She repeated this a few times. Spencer was confused if he had rendered her speechless, or if she was having a stroke.

“Are you asking me out?” She eventually managed to choke out. He furrowed his eyebrows, before nodding, “yeah, I am. If thats okay.”

As if she finally realised what was happening, her eyes zoned in on hid face, and her expression softened at seeing his confused one, “I’m sorry, I just... it’s been a while. I don't go on a lot of dates. That sounds weird, I just mean that I don't get asked out a lot.”

His lips quirked up at her nervous rambling, before shaking his head, “I didn't think it sounded weird. I don't either. Go on a lot of dates, that is.”

She sighed softly in relief, before smiling softly, “so, Austen vs Bronte, huh? What do you think? Who’s the Queen?”

“I like to go into these sorts of debates with an unbiased opinion. I don't really favour one or the other, and I like to see if the lecturer can sway me. They usually can't, but its always fun,” he said with a chuckle, “it’s on Saturday, at Georgetown University. I could meet you here, say at three, and we can walk together?”

Raye smiled and nodded at the suggestion, “that sounds perfect.”

“Okay, perfect, great,” he said with a grin, “I will see you then.” His choice of words was not reflecting his intellect right now. He had a stupid grin on his face as he fumbled his way back to his table, collecting his things to leave and go home, and actually sleep for once. But the butterflies in his stomach thought otherwise, and he figured he it would be a struggle to fall asleep. Not that he was complaining.

–

“That was intense. Seriously, Spencer, that had me sweating!”

Spencer laughed as he walked alongside Raye as they left the lecture hall, “right? The professor was flawless with his criticisms. I don’t think I can decide who wins though, Bronte or Austen.”

“Hmm, me neither. I mean, I’ve always had a soft spot for Austen, but Bronte is just so damn good,” Raye said with a frown, “but in saying that, I wrote my college dissertation on Austen, so I guess the at already picks for me.”

“You wrote your dissertation on Jane Austen?” Spencer looked to her in surprise, as she grinned and nodded, “mhm. A cross analysis of Darcy and Elizabeth’s relationship, to the relationship of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. It was genius, to be honest, an easy A. There was so much content, I could write for days on end and never run out of things to say.”

He laughed as she did, nodding in agreement, “that’s.... wow. I would love to read it, sometime.”

She glanced to him in surprise, nodding slowly with a blush, “I mean, it’s not brilliantly written. It didn’t get top marks or anything–“

“Hey,” he cut her off by taking her hands in his, looking down at her as her wide eyes looked up to him, “I bet it’s amazing. It sounds interesting, really.”

She bit her bottom lip, and tried to ignore the way Spencer’s eyes darted down to her mouth when she did, “okay. I’ll print off a copy of it for you sometime.”

“Great,” he said with a smile. He moved one of his hands away, but kept his other hand on hers. She blushed lightly, moving her hand to curl around his and hold it. He felt his heart leap at her returning the gesture, smiling softly at her, before looking down at his feet, “I had a good time today. I know we didn't exactly do a lot of talking for a first date, but...”

He didn't know what else to add, but he didn't have to, as she laughed, “don't be silly, I had fun. Besides, I already feel like I know you... is that weird to say?”

“No, not at all. I feel like I know you too. I suppose it’s from the books,” Spencer said as they left the lecture hall. He didn't know where they were walking to, but he wasn't about to complain. He didn't want the day to end. She furrowed her brow, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, from reading the books you enjoy, I feel like I know you,” he said with a shrug. Raye hummed, “oh yeah? Go ahead then. What am I like?”

He laughed slightly, looking ahead of them as he spoke, “you're a romantic; thats an obvious one. You love adventure, you love to escape through books. You hate horror, and anything scary, and you hate sad endings. You empathise with the bad guys. So, from all of this, I can tell that you’re sweet. You probably love animals, and definitely love children. You won't do something big unless you're pushed to, because as much as you love adventure, you only get it through reading. And you’ve... you’ve probably been hurt before, maybe by someone you care about or someone you know. Because you empathise with the villain, even when they're in the wrong. You’re considerate. And definitely a scardey-cat.”

Raye stayed silent as he profiled her through her book choices, and afterwards. Spencer immediately felt regret rise in him. He couldn't believe that he already screwed it up on the first date. He tried to apologise, “I-I didn't mean to-”

“I haven't been hurt by someone close to me, but I have been hurt, in a... in a strange way. But... I mean, I always try to see the best in people, no matter what. As difficult as that sometimes is,” she said. She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb lightly, a look of curiosity on her face, “how did you figure all that out from the books I read?”

He relaxed at seeing that he didn't offend her, offering her a small smile, “I’m good at what I do.”

She was about to ask what he meant, before he let go of her hand to open the door for her. It was only then she realised they had managed to wander back to The Hideout. She smiled and went inside, going over to find a free table. It was busy, considering it was Saturday afternoon, and not the middle of the night.

He ordered two hot chocolates, figuring it was a safe bet, before going to the table to sit across from her, “I ordered two hot chocolates, I hope that’s okay.”

Raye smiled and nodded, “of course it is. I have a sweet tooth.”

“Me too. I always add an unhealthy amount of sugar to my coffee,” Spencer said, and she gasped, “me too! Tamara always scolds me, she says all my teeth will fall out. I also put a bunch of milk in it too. God, I don't know how people drink it without milk. It’s gross!”

“I completely agree!” He said, as they both laughed. He had the urge to talk her hand again. “I had a lot of fun today,” she hummed happily, resting her head in her hand as the hot chocolates were delivered to their table, “seriously. It was so much better than ‘dinner and a movie.’”

“Well, I didn't want to be stereotypical. And the first time I met you, you were literally buried in books, I figured this would be a good idea,” he said with a grin, as Raye scoffed and spluttered, “that wasn't my fault! Tamara loves to mess with me, but I’m too stubborn to give in. Hence my struggle with the bookshelf.”

Spencer laughed, and they continued to talk until they had finished their drinks. While he initially thought they were so similar, he was beginning to see that he wasn't entirely right. Yes, they had their similarities. But she was so much more than he expected. He found out she had a cat, called Dickens (she called him Dick, for short), and he was a ginger tabby cat. He found out she loved house plants, but struggled to keep them alive. Her favourite movie growing up was Peter Pan, and she had a bad habit of buying candles that she doesn't need.

Spencer never wanted the day to end. But sooner rather than later, the sun set on the drizzly November day, and the conversation seemed to come to a natural pause. Raye glanced outside, and cleared her throat she she saw it was dark, and used the moment of silence to say, “I should probably head home. My sleeping schedule... its a little backwards. I’m usually awake at night, and sleep during the day. Because of my work hours.”

Spencer didn't want to, but nodded, “oh, yeah, of course. I never asked, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m in accounting,” she said, smiling slightly. He could tell it was forced, “not my dream job, but hey, a job’s a job.”

“Oh. I could've sworn Tamara said you worked with the stock market, or something,” he frowned. She shrugged it off, “sometimes I do an odd job.”

“Okay. Well... I can walk you home. Which direction are you headed?” Spencer asked as he stood alongside Raye. She began to shake her head, lifting her bag and clutching it to her chest, “no, don't. I mean, I don't need you to do that.”

“No, I insist, really. It’s dark outside, and you never know,” he stressed, as Raye continued to shake her head, reiterated, “I’m telling you, I’ll be fine.” 

“I just want to make sure you get home safe,” Spencer insisted, feeling kind of defeated at her rejection. She didn't seem to notice his reaction, snapping, “I said no!”

They stared at each other for a minute, before Raye just looked away, stuffing her purse and phone into her bag. Spencer tried to ignore the hurt he felt, speaking softly as he put his hands in the pockets of his coat, “I-I’m sorry. I wasn't trying to... to go home with you, or anything, I swear-”

“No, I know,” Raye said, her tone now gentle. She sighed softly, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “I’m just pretty paranoid about my security, I guess. I live alone.”

He nodded slowly, reaching into his satchel and pulling out his badge, “I don't suppose this would ease your worries?”

She furrowed her brow, taking what he handed to her to see what it was. He couldn't ignore the way she seemed to become even more tense at seeing what it was, and the way her hands gripped the badge just a little bit tighter.

All she could say was, “I thought you were a doctor?”

“I-I am. I have three PHDs. None of them are medical, though. I’m with the Behaviour Analysis Unit,” he explained. Raye’s voice was small, “you're a profiler. That explains how you were able to figure me out through books.”

Something about her tone unsettled Spencer. He thought that she would feel safer, knowing that he worked in the FBI. So why was she more alarmed than before?

“I’m so sorry for getting angry,” Raye apologised, smiling guiltily as she handed him his badge back. She ignored the warmth she felt when their hands brushed. Spencer smiled at her, “it’s okay. I’m sorry for trying to force the matter. But you can imagine why.”

She nodded fervently, before growing some confidence and taking his hand in hers, “would you walk me home? I live about three blocks away.”

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat, intertwining their fingers and nodding, as his cheeks began to glow. He stuck close by her side, as they walked down the streets of the city towards her apartment block. They came to a stop outside an old red brick building, but from the front door, Spencer could tell it must be renovated on the inside.

“Today was great,” Raye said tenderly, a warm smile on her face, “really. I had fun. If you’d like, we could do something like this again sometime.”

Spencer returned the smile, “I would love that. As long as you promise to have read War and Peace by then.”

She gawped and laughed, before groaning playfully, “oh come on, it’s just so boring. But for you, I will try. That’s all I can promise.”

“Good enough for me,” he chuckled, looking down at her as they stood face to face. She bit her bottom lip, before letting out a sigh.

“Are you going to kiss me, or am I going inside?” She quipped, as Spencer raised his brows. He smiled ever so slightly, moving to cup her cheek and lean down closer, “I will...”

Raye smiled softly, leaning into his hand as he moved closer so his lips were merely an inch away, “...once you finish the book.”

Her jaw dropped as he moved away, a triumphant smile on his face as she stammered, “you-! I just... that was cruel. Truly, and sincerely cruel. You will pay for that, Doctor, mark my words.”

“I will,” he laughed, lifting her hand that he held to kiss the back of her hand, “but until then, I bid you farewell.”

“Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again,” Raye said, taking a step backwards to walk to her building, as Spencer took a step back too, “Wilde?”

“Shakespeare,” she giggled, as they continued to walk their separate ways. Spencer made sure to stay within sight until he watched her walk through the door. She glanced back once she reached the door, smiling and waving goodbye to him, which he returned with a smile of his own. He was able to walk home with a peace of mind once he had seen her go into her building.

Raye scaled the stairs of her building with a stupid grin on her face, practically skipping up the stairs. It had been so long since her life had felt so normal. So long since she felt like she did right now; like a school girl crushing on a cute boy. She would do anything to make this feeling last forever. She should have known it wouldn't last.

She slowed as she approached her apartment, seeing the door open an inch, her cat sitting at the door.

And just like that, her good mood was completely gone, as she felt her heart stop, and her palms grow sweaty. She never forgot to lock her door. Ever.

She didn’t even bother to go inside, didn’t care to see if anything was missing or gone. She scooped up Dickens into her arms and ran back to the staircase, running all the way down while diling the number of the one person who could help.

–

cliff hangerrrrrr >:)

taglist: @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @fallinallinmendes @beyonces-breastmilk @spencerlikesapplejuice @pastathighs @gcblers @hushfakebitches @ijustcomeheretoread @thelovelyrose @187-reid @madison-malfoy @averyhotchner @haylaansmi

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Bridges

Pairing: Dr. Toshiki Kasumi x OC (Anna)

Fandom: Voltage, RomanceMD

Genre: Fluff and a little angst

Word count: 2,945

Disclaimer: I do not own Voltage or any of its characters, but I own the idea of this fic. Also, CG borrowed from Voltage.

A/N: I wrote this for my good friend @imoonlit-river as a Valentine's Day present. I hope you enjoy this.

It started one afternoon. One terrible afternoon, just after you'd clocked out of a long and grueling shift at the Seimei University Hospital. You sighed. You were used to long shifts, but covering two shifts on your first week on the job was one for the books. 

You squinted as you stepped out of the main entrance, the afternoon sunlight shone directly at you. As you trudged to your apartment, you mentally deliberated if taking this temporary assignment was a mistake. Lost in thought, you allowed your feet to carry you through the busy crowd. 

'Maybe I should've just stayed home,' you thought silently. It has only been a week since you started, but you have been passed on from one IT department to another, told off twice for misunderstanding instructions,  had no one else on the same shift as you, and no one to talk to. 

You stopped on your tracks and found yourself on a bridge - the same one you pass every single day on your way to work and back. The vivid hues of the sky caught your attention, and you gasped as you admired the pretty pink palette in front of you. Leaning at the railing, you stared at the horizon, drinking in its beauty, and allowing it to refresh your tired soul. 

"Long day?"

A voice beside you made you jump. You hadn't expected anyone to be there - more so, notice you standing there. As you shifted your gaze to the person next to you, you felt your eyes widen in surprise. 

"Did I guess right then?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, as the beautiful man standing beside you continued to speak. You shook your head and blinked your eyes a few times to make sure you weren't dreaming. You haven't slept in twenty-four hours, you reminded yourself. Maybe this was all a dream. 

Yes, it must be a dream. There was no way that the Seimei University Hospital's Chief of Medicine, and top Cardiologist, Toshiki Kasumi, was beside you looking so cool in his grey hoodie under a crisp blue jacket, and jeans. 

"Uh, are you okay?" 

"C-c-chief Kasumi!" You blurted out louder than you had intended when you saw his face coming nearer to check on you. "It's you! You're here!"

"Yes, I have been for several minutes now, but you seem to have noticed just now. Are you feeling okay?." He raised his eyebrows to study you, before leaning back. 

"I'm sorry, Chief Kasumi," you bowed a lot lower than necessary. "I worked two shifts today to cover for Sena-san. I didn't mean to be out-of-sorts today."

He looked at you quietly before turning his attention to the view in front of you. 

"It's fancy seeing you here, Chief Kasumi. Do you cross this bridge, too?" You asked awkwardly. 

The silence between you stretched for a few minutes, and you suddenly wished you hadn't asked him a silly question. You kept your gaze low, looking around for a hole you can crawl into and hide. 

"Bridges aren't for crossing," he finally spoke, as he tucked his hands in his pocket, and you looked up to see the pink hues had turned purple. "They're for stopping."

"Stopping?"

He simply nodded. "Who knows, maybe we'll stop by the same spot again sometime," he said, and just before he turned to leave, he added, "but only if you stop calling me Chief Kasumi."

***

"You know, you haven't introduced yourself to me properly."

You glanced sideways to see him looking at the same blessed view you admired with him four weeks back. Today was an uneventful Wednesday and you managed to clock out on time. 

"Oh, I haven't? I'm sorry. My name is Anna," you replied, smiling. 

"And you're here on a temporary assignment?" He asked as he handed you one of the cans of coffee he bought from the vending machine just before. 

"For four more months, yes," you said cheerily.

"I see. What's it been like for you so far?"

"The first week was hell," you recalled, sighing. "But lately, Sena-san has been a lot nicer to me. I now have two other teammates on the same shift, so the workload is more manageable. They're also teaching me the ropes so I don't get in trouble."

He simply nodded, keeping his gaze towards the sky, while you secretly stole glances at his picture-perfect profile. Until now, you still couldn't believe you've managed not only to talk to but also to 'hang out' with Seimei University Hospital's most sought-after doctor.

Him. The guy beside you. Cardio surgery's rockstar, EICU's fearless department head - the guy loved and loathed by many because of his top-notch skills and his dazzlingly good looks. Your teammates told you that the most difficult cases always get sent his way, and big shots always requested for him to attend to them. You've seen him in action a few times in the hospital, too, and his intense energy was nothing like the soothing aura he exuded now 

"If you have something to say, speak up," he said, snapping you out of your reverie, and you blushed. Just how long has he noticed you staring at him, you wondered, slightly mortified. As the sky turned a darker shade of purple, he cleared his throat and looked your way. "Anyway, I have to go back to the hospital. Are you on your way home?"

"Yes," you managed to reply as he turned to leave. "I hope to cross this bridge and see you here again sometime."

He paused for a moment and turned around. "Bridges aren't for crossing, you know. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Oh. Yes, you did," you suddenly remembered, as your face turned redder. "Well, maybe we can stop by again another time."

"Maybe we will, Anna."

Maybe it was the way he stopped on his tracks to remind you about what he said about bridges or the casual way he called your name that kept rooted on the spot to watch his figure disappear into the crowd, with an unopened can of coffee in hand, and a goofy smile on your face. 

***

"I'm glad you were able to restore the files in Kyogoku's computer the other day."

The two of you stood side-by-side at the bridge once again, looking at the pink sky. You had met quite a few times in between, but today, you decided to linger a while longer so you could talk a little bit more. 

"It wasn't that hard. All I did was search the servers for the backup of his data. No biggie," you shrugged, as you handed him the sandwich you bought at the convenience store for him while he opened your can of warm coffee for you. 

You don't know when this whole thing started, and neither of you seemed to have taken notice, but somewhere between the first time you've met and today, you've made up so many unspoken rules with each other. Rules such as who's turn it is to buy snacks, or which topics are safe to discuss with each other. 

But today, you were feeling more daring than usual, so you stared at him again as he was appreciating the beauty of the sky before him. 

"You've got something to say?" He finally asked. 

"You must love the sky so much, no?" 

"I like this one in particular," he said coolly. "This particular view is called the Belt of Venus."

"Belt of Venus…," you mouthed. 

"It only lasts for about 15 minutes before the sky turns dark. It's associated with the Greek goddess, of course, and it signifies…" he said before catching himself. 

"It signifies what, Dr. Kasumi?" You asked curiously. 

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "It signifies a lot of different things to different people."

"What does that signify to you though?" You press earnestly. 

"A passing," he said quietly. 

Something in his voice pulled at your heartstrings and as you gazed into his grey eyes, you knew there was more to the man beside you than he let on. 

Before you could press any further, he moved his hand to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear and you froze on the spot. He felt you tense up and smiled. 

"I have to go back to the hospital, Anna. Take care on your way home, alright?" 

All you could do was nod at him as he smiled tenderly and went on his way, leaving behind his uneaten sandwich and your half-finished can of coffee. 

He didn't promise you'd stop by together again soon, but something in you knew you would. Soon. 

***

"I can't believe the time's flown by so fast!"

You threw your hands in the air excitedly and looked to the sky with a big smile on your face. You're only a month away from ending your assignment in Tokyo, and you couldn't be happier. 

He stood beside you, armed with a paper bag filled with sandwiches and chips, and your favorite can of coffee. He smiled silently as you beamed like a child who has just been allowed to go outside and play. It was sunset again, and his calendar was surprisingly clear, so he texted you to ask if you wanted to meet. It was, of course, an offer you'd never say no to. 

"Someone's happy," he said as he leaned by the railing, once again staring at the sky. 

"Well, duh. Of course, I'm happy. I miss home," you replied, finally settling in beside him. "I can't wait to eat home-cooked meals once again, and talking to people who speak the same Language - no offense meant!"

He snickered softly as you leaned on him, your arm against his while admiring the view in front of you. With you, he seemed less like the dark emperor of the lord of death his colleagues made him out to be - he was simply Dr. Kasumi, a guy who loved the sunset and who loved to listen to your endless - often nonsensical - stories, and humor you with his own. 

As you fell into silence, you began to wonder what your days would be like when you went back home. Days without Dr. Kasumi. 

Your heart began to hurt at the thought that in a few more weeks, you would have to say goodbye - to put an end to the sunset stops along the bridge to watch this beautiful view, bid farewell to the conversations you've exchanged over convenience store snacks sometimes until late into the night, and say goodbye to the kindest soul you've never even had the chance to know deeper. The thought made you freeze. What's wrong with me?

"Are you okay?" He asked, peering into your face, as you stared listlessly into space. 

"That was what you first asked me," you replied, recovering quickly. He smiled. 

"Yes, it was," he chuckled, facing you. "Back then, I knew exactly what was going on in your little head after Sena asked you to work overnight."

"And now?"

He sighed. "And now, I'm not sure if your reason is the same as mine," he said, as he backed you up against the railing and trapped you in his arms. "You wanted to know what the Belt of Venus meant to me, right?"

You nodded nervously. 

"My dad died when I was little, and my mom always said you could send off your departed loved ones when the goddess appeared. I watched it every day since," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. "And when my mom and my best friend died, I watched the sunset even more. The Belt of Venus means to send someone off - at least that's what it means to me. And I always felt sad when it's over. At least I did until lately…"

"What changed?" You asked, waiting on his answer with bated breath. 

"You. You happened," he replied, leaning closer to you until your lips touched his. "You came and saw the sunset with me. And for a time, I forgot to be scared. But now, I need to send you off."

"Dr. Kasumi -," you gasped, as he pulled away from you and straightened up. 

"I'm sorry to burden you, confessing as I did," he said, as he reached out to wipe the tears you hadn't realized had stained your face. "Please think nothing of it. I want you to go home and be happy - as happy as you made me in these four months we've watched the sunset together."

He sighed, releasing you from his grip. "And for your sake, I won't stop by anymore. But don't be a stranger when you see me at work."

His image was a blur behind your tears, as he walked away from you, just as he's always done whenever you watched the sunset. Only this time, you had a feeling he was never coming back. 

You scolded yourself right there and then. He was just a friendly face, someone who wanted you to feel you weren't alone in this strange place, you reasoned out. You aren't even supposed to cry over him. 

But as the night grew darker, the realization of your feelings for him came into light. 

You loved him. You were in love with Dr. Kasumi. And you needed to see him one more time. 

***

The days leading to your departure went by like a blur, and in the flurry of it all, you had not caught sight of the dark-haired doctor that stole your heart. You passed by his office but were often told he was in surgery or teaching at a conference somewhere. He never stopped by your usual bridge, too. 

This isn't fair at all, you thought angrily. How come he gets to confess his feelings and you don't? 

Today was your last day at the Seimei University Hospital, and you've made arrangements to stay two more days in Tokyo before flying back home. 

This was it, you thought. Your last chance to confront the elusive heart thief they call Chief of Medicine at the EICU. As you peered into the exclusive department, a grumpy looking Orthopedic surgeon looked your way and sighed. 

"He ain't here," Dr. Takado said, exasperated. Not that you blame him - he's been in the receiving end of all your inquiries after all. 

"I see. Well, thank you, Dr. Takado," you said, bowing politely, much to his surprise.

"Why do you want to see him so badly anyway?" 

"It's my last day at work today," you explained, trying your best not to melt under his icy glare. "I- I only wanted to thank him for making me feel like I wasn't a stranger around here."

Something in Dr. Takado's eyes flickered, and his lips stretched into a lazy smile. "Is that so?" He said. "I may be able to help you then, but you gotta tell me something first, got it?"

Relief washed over you as you realized you may have gained an ally in his squad. Smiling, you looked at the kind-hearted doctor in front of you and said, "I'm at your mercy, Dr. Takado."

***

The lovely pink hue tinged the afternoon sky once again, signaling that the day was about to come to a close. Filled with determination, you sprinted towards the bridge at the far end of the river bank. Standing there, just as Dr. Takado promised, was Dr. Kasumi, in casual clothes - the same one he wore when you first met. He stared quietly at the Belt of Venus, his expression solemn, as though he were sending someone off in prayer. 

You paused to catch your breath and to calm your beating heart. You wanted nothing more but to run over to him and tell him off, but that wouldn't do you any good, and you knew it. 

"Fancy seeing you here," you said, feigning nonchalance. 

"Anna?"

"You look like you've just seen a ghost." You walked closer until you stood right in front of him. "What's wrong with our old bridge?"

He looked at you with a scowl on his face. "I said I wasn't stopping by there anymore, didn't I?" 

"You also said I shouldn't be a stranger if I saw you at work, but you never showed yourself to me," you retorted. "Don't you think it's cruel to confess your feelings to me and not hear me confess back?"

"What's the point if you're just crossing  -," he asked, turning his gaze back to the Belt of Venus as it was starting to disappear. 

"Well, what if I said I wasn't crossing anymore?"

He paused and held his breath. And you took it as an opportunity to approach him. Cradling his face in your hands, you forced him to look at you. 

"I don't want to just cross the bridge anymore, Dr. Kasumi," you said earnestly, as you gazed into his eyes. "I want to stop. With you."

His breath hitched, but at the same time, you felt his arms around you holding you close. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"I thought it was your last day…"

"Someone may have worked some magic to make me miraculously extend my stay," you respond cryptically, as you returned his hug. 

"So, you mean it - you're not going away."

"I said it before and I'll say it again - I won't. I'm staying," you said, pulling away from his hug so you can look at him. "And depending on how this works out, maybe I'll be staying for the long run."

He smiled and touched your cheeks. "Oh, you'll be happy here alright. I'll make sure of it. This is the only place you're stopping - right by my side."

The end. 

[fanfictrashdump]

Universe in a Jar - Phase 4 fic

OK. I did something. A few days ago I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and this happened. It’s not my fault, really– Loki is my all-time fave, Wanda could murder me and I’d thank her and Stephen is a smart, sassy bitch... all wins.

So, here, y’all can have it. I might leave it there or I might continue depending on my mood. 

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, OC

Rating: T? Language!

Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could... he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.

XX

"Wait here. No funny business."

Doctor Stephen Strange half-dragged himself upright to deliver the warning. The portal-hopping and timeline clipping involved in the last twelve hours–if he could even call them that–of his life had really taken it out of him. Who knew fixing tears in the time-space continuum was so exhausting? Doctor Who made it look like a breeze!

Setting his companions with one last threatening glare, he walked up to a faded, run down apartment door with a crooked six hanging just above the knocker. In all honesty, the place looked even worse than what he had anticipated when the hospital directory gave him the address. Still, he knew he had made it here for a reason, despite the fact his stomach was roiling and begging him to reconsider. This was his Hail Mary. Tightening his jaw and frowning himself into another set of early wrinkles, he pounded the wooden entrance so hard the six righted itself.

A minute or so later, the door swung open, a woman filling the empty frame just long enough to lay eyes on the doctor.

"Nope."

The door slammed shut with a noisy shudder just as Stephen opened his mouth. He swallowed the dozen or so expletives that were threatening to wriggle themselves free from his throat. Instead, he straightened his hoodie, loosened his neck with an audible crack, and took a deep breath before the side of his fist struck the door four times.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

Silence.

Stillness.

His companions beginning to titter in the background because for all his pomp and attitude and the timelines are not to be meddled with–I am the Sorcerer Supreme, he could not get a single human to open the door.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

His teeth ground together harder in annoyance. "Seph! I have absolutely no problem in staying here all day. Making a fuss. Screaming at your door. Waking the neighbors. Being a nui–"

The door swung open, then. Stephen was met with a frown and eyes dark as storm clouds and for just a second he forgot why he was doing this. "What the fuck do you want?"

His expression softened under her glare, if only minimally. There was a reluctance in his frame that refused to give up even as he said the words. "I need help, Seph." His eyes flittered briefly over his shoulder and it was just long enough for the woman to notice that the sorcerer was not alone.

Standing on her tiptoes, she looked over his shoulder. Just down the harshly lit hallway, two figures–woman dressed in dark red and a man in an all black suit–stood watching the interaction and chattering among themselves. Her expression lightened just a fraction. "Who's the cutie?"

Stephen looked back, furrowing his brow and taking careful inspection of the other two before directing his attention back to the woman at the door. "Which one is the cutie?"

"Take your pick," she challenged back and even though his initial instinct was to roll his eyes and scoff, a little smirk tugged at his lips.

He whistled, gesturing the door with his head. His companions perked, if only due to sheer curiosity about this new person. "Wanda, Loki, meet Dr. Persephone Hale." He sighed, shoulders slumping in anticipation for what was to come out of his mouth. He gathered the most sincere look he could muster and held her gaze. "Please?"

A million expressions fluttered through her features, including a peculiar twitch of her nose he knew only happened when she was about to do something she really didn't want to. He tried not to celebrate the victory too soon. She was, after all, making him wait for it. After a moment of internal deliberation, she stepped aside and Strange signaled in no uncertain terms that the two needed to step inside.

"Thank you for having us. I'm sorry if we're intruding." Wanda looked tense as she spoke, like they had already had plenty of doors slammed in their face. Or perhaps she was just sensing the thoughts and emotions of their host and fearing the worst.

Seph waved her in. "It's not a problem. I am glad to help an Avenger and… an alien god." She offed them both a forced smile. "Where'd you leave the horns?"

Loki chuckled, straightening his suit. "They didn't go with the outfit. May I?"

"Of course. It's him I'm not crazy about."

The smile on Loki's face grew as he sidled past her, leaving Stephen to glare at them both. "Seph–"

"I don't care. I don't care about whatever excuse you're about to give me–"

"I'm sorry! I can't do anything else other than apologize."

"Yes, you're right. Why would the Sorcerer Supreme even bother with the lesser mortals?" With an icy glare, she turned on her heel and stomped into the apartment, though she left the door open in invitation.

Drawing a long sigh, Stephen reconsidered turning time back just ten minutes and foregoing this whole disaster before realizing he had no other choice, and so he followed her in and closed the door behind him.

The entrance hall of the tiny Bronx apartment melted away after a few steps, replacing stale summer air with a crisp country breeze. Faded blue flower-patterned wallpaper was familiar at first sight, as was the well-loved wooden stair banister, worn in places where the steps were squeaky from nights of trying to sneak in after curfew. Knick-knacks and pictures crammed into every possible space brought back memories that he had long since locked into the back of his mind and forgotten about. Everything within his line of sight brought with it a prickle and tingle of a life past but still haunting him, and he loved and hated it in equal measure.

"Who devised this portal? The work is rather formidable," Loki remarked, breaking the silence, in the closest thing to awe that any of the others had ever heard.

"Oh, i-it’s nothing impressive." Seph quipped, brushing away the compliment.

"So you studied alongside Strange, then?"

"No. Not magic, at least." Persephone gestured with her index around the room. "This is the only thing I can do."

"A feat like this without any of those silly rings that he needs? Impressive." He paced around, touching invisible seams and humming to himself. "With a little training you could do very well for yourself." Neither doctor could decide whether the tone he was using was encouraging or threatening.

"I don't think so," she replied, fidgeting in her oversized cardigan. "I was put off early on."

Despite the fact he was pointedly looking out the window, Stephen could tell Seph's gaze had fallen onto him. There were a million other things he would rather do than have that conversation–a root canal with no lidocaine, for example. He, instead, forced his focus on staring at the house sitting a couple of hundred meters away. The red trim of the roof was looking faded and the gutters were a little loose but it did not seem like the house was in total disrepair.

"I haven't been home in ages," he muttered, off-handedly.

"Oh! Weren't you born and raised in Manhattan? At least according to the Times, anyway." The sarcastic tone Persephone used made an uncomfortable weight press down into his stomach. He opted to count how many missing shingles there were on the roof.

"Ah, so there's history. That explains the dread at having to come to her door," Loki announced genially, clearly in need of some entertainment. "Wanda, you've lost our wager."

"Loki," Wanda warned, taking the time to fix him with a look before gesturing at the other two. They seemed to have been fighting a war entirely through stares.

"Which door leads outside?"

Seph rolled her eyes. "Which fucking door do you think leads outside, Stephen? I thought you were this hot shot genius doctor!"

"I am asking because that door," he gestured at the front door, "leads to the middle of nowhere in the Bronx."

"Then maybe don't take the door that leads to the Bronx, then, jackass. Or better yet, do. Until now, you've never had a problem finding a door away from me."

"That–" He killed the retort before it had a chance to meet the air and instead pivoted his questioning. "Is the key still under the mat?"

"I don't fucking know. Where did you leave the key twenty-whatever years ago you last graced your own doorstep?" With that last remark, she stormed off and up the stairs, cardigan billowing behind her, while Strange wrenched the back door open and threw himself into the field between the houses.

Wanda and Loki shared a look before making themselves scarce, elsewhere.

XX

About an hour later, Wanda opened the door to what she presumed was the main bedroom and peeked inside. Persephone lay with her limbs splayed out, dark curls smushed on one side, blinking blankly at the ceiling. With a sigh, she opened the door a bit more and let herself in.

"I hope you don't mind. Loki and I made some tea. And he might have eaten a whole sleeve of Oreos."

Seph laughed despite her gloom and shuffled to sit up against the headboard. Wanda smiled, offering her an extra mug in her hand, steam billowing from the top invitingly. "Sorry. I've been a terrible hostess."

"You're more hostage than hostess at the moment. I don't blame you." Wanda sipped at her tea for a minute in tense silence. "So, when did you and Stephen date? And how did he fuck it up?"

The responding snort was heartfelt and led to a long laugh. "No. Stephen and I have never dated."

"But there is history."

She ruffled her curls back into shape, out of nervous habit more than concern, and sighed. "Hard not to have when you've known him all your life. He grew up in that house across the way."

"I assumed as much." She gave her an encouraging smile, like a mother coaxing her teen into conversation. It worked exceptionally well on Seph. "Come on. We were neighbors growing up does not cover the level of tension from earlier."

Seph shrugged. "We both wanted to be doctors. I followed him to the same schools, undergrad and med school. We were pretty much our own support system. His sister passed, and his parents, my mom. We always figured it out together–"

There was a bit of confusion in the witch's face. "OK. That sounds really sweet, though."

"–and then one day I told him a secret. I told him I could make doors go to other places and I showed him, and I haven't seen him since."

“Ah, right.” Wanda winced. "That… sucks."

"Yep." She popped the 'p' before sipping at her tea.

"But when he got into magic, surely he–?"

"Nope." She swallowed at a lump in her throat and pushed away the ball of emotions that thinking on that day was dredging up. "That day he said I was crazy, that I drugged him. I've never heard an apology but he somehow gets to be Sorcerer Supreme."

Wanda sighed, taking a long draw from her tea before adding. "Jeez, what a dick."

"I'm assuming this scrawny, little thing is him," Loki remarked from the door, startling both women. He held out a framed picture of four children. "I am assuming he was bullied on that haircut alone."

"No worse than being the only Black kid in school in a small town in rural Nebraska," Seph retorted with a wry grin. Loki considered and shrugged, sitting at the bottom of the bed with what appeared to be a pack of saltines. "That's his little brother, Victor. He's the taller kid. The girl is his sister, Donna. That's the last picture we took before Victor died."

"Didn't his sister die, as well?" Persephone nodded. "So, they've all died. Seems like he's a harbinger of bad luck. Maybe we'd do well to stay away," he quipped, tossing the picture onto the mattress.

"Yes, tell us about harbingers of bad luck, Mr. I've Died More Times Than I Can Remember," Wanda sassed back, much to the other two's amusement.

"I have a question, Lady Hale."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Seph is fine, Loki."

"These portals, can you make them go anywhere?"

She shook her head. "Only places I've been to, sorry. Can't send you back to whatever planet you want to run off to."

He tsk'ed. "Well, it was worth a try."

"What did you two do to get stuck with the magic police?"

"Created a whole new reality by escaping my first arrest" "Held a whole town hostage in a fake TV show." They replied simultaneously.

"Fuck. No wonder he's desperate," Seph muttered to herself. "Why doesn't he just keep you in the fancy sorcerer place?"

"Too many artifacts to play with." "Too many books with dark magic."

"OK. He's clearly in over his head. No wonder he came here. There's no way he could keep you both controlled and contained without the..." She gestured around the room to signify the magic of her bubble.

"It's nice to let him pretend." Loki offered with a wink. "It's endearing."

Persephone laughed, sparing a passing thought to the idiot who didn't know what he got into. "Well, if you're stuck here, anyway, there's plenty of bedrooms. The bathroom is down the hall. Make yourself comfortable and relax. I'm going to go get dinner started."

Wanda smiled, stretching happily. "I'll take you up on that. I need a shower and some sleep."

Loki smirked. "I'll join you in the kitchen, if you don't mind."

XX

When Stephen returned, a long while later, he was immediately drawn to the familiar smells permeating the house and warming him from the inside out as much as the soft, honeyed whispers being exchanged in the dim light of the kitchen. He found Loki and Persephone at the stove, speaking in hushed voices, closer to each other than he would have deemed appropriate–definitely flirty. Loki had changed out of the black suit into a pair of joggers and a dark green tshirt and seemed downright at home bantering with the human over the simmering pot. His ease made Stephen's left eye twitch immediately, some long-forgotten jealousy roiling in his chest and clenching his fists on their own accord. He cleared his throat loudly to pull their attention.

Seph rolled her eyes and turned back to the pot to stir, though Loki lingered close for a few extra moments before taking half a step back.

"I guess the fun police is back," she muttered under her breath and Loki chuckled.

"Loki, could you go check on Wanda, please?"

"Wanda is sleeping, so no." He turned back to his companion, whispered something into her ear that made her giggle and turn to face him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

The way his eyes trailed from her lips to his gaze made something snap inside the sorcerer. "Just get lost, will you?"

Seph craned her neck, fixing him with a glare. "Leave him alone. This is my house." Loki grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek with a smug glint in his eye.

"I need to talk to you."

"Funnily enough, I heard all I needed to two decades ago, so…"

"Persephone, I am not playing here, I–" His demand was cut short by the flickering of the walls. Invisible curtains dividing this world from the little ratty apartment in the Bronx were faltering. Just beyond the constraints of the space, a whole new area, neither New York nor Nebraska, was reflected for just a second before it flashed back.

"It's alright, darling. He knows he has no authority here. Settle down, dove," Loki cooed cautiously, eyeing their surroundings with caution. "Do you want me to give you a moment with him?"

Seph sighed, studying Loki’s expression before nodding reluctantly. "Like I have a choice with this idiot."

"Very well. I will make myself scarce." He inclined his head at her, a gentle smile attached. Once he turned, he gave Strange a dirty look with a multitude of silent warnings and retreated to the living room.

Stephen snorted. "What did you do, bribe him?"

Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the stove. "Nope. He was hungry. I fed him. You'd be surprised how much less surly he is when he's full."

He frowned. "We ate before coming here."

"Hm… what's your excuse, then?" After a minute of silence, she glanced over her shoulder to check he was still there. He was. Unfortunately. "Besides, he eats three times as much as you do. Whatever you had wouldn't have made a dent."

"How do you know that?"

She let out a single laugh. "It's this revolutionary practice called talking. You wouldn't know about it, scalpel jock."

"Here’s a thought. How about you let your disdain for me go long enough for us to have a conversation."

The spoon in her hand slammed into the pot with a splash, driving bits of stew everywhere. Reality flickered within the portal and time dilated just long enough for him to notice before everything went smashing back into place. She was good at repressing these feelings, he knew. She must have spent their decades apart trying to control herself, unaided, and now it was his fault that she was losing control.

"How can you pretend that the single worst day of my life is just water under the bridge, Stephen?" She turned from the stove and he noticed her eyes glowed faintly in their intense hazel. "You accused me of drugging you, of deceiving you! I was grieving, my life was a mess, and I suddenly opened doors to places I hadn't been to in years, entirely by accident." She began to close the space between them, rounding the kitchen table. He felt like he should make a hasty retreat but found he lacked the ability. "I was terrified. I needed you! And you left me! I had no one!" Her voice cracked at the end, eyes filling with tears as she did all she could to retain the glare she was directing at him. "And after all that shit, you find magic and you–you didn't even have the decency to come and talk to me until you needed something."

"I didn't understand what had happened, OK? I opened your closet door and stepped into my childhood bedroom, Seph! How was that logical?"

"How did you think I felt, fucker? I was the one doing it!" Her voice rose to a shout and Stephen was quick to match it.

"I'm sorry! OK? I am sorry. I shouldn't have left. I should have reached out to you sooner. I should have helped. I am sorry. I'm s o r r y, but I was a dumb kid and the girl I was in love with could make distances shrink into nothing and I panicked!"

"You should've stayed gone, then," she replied, icily. "Because the boy I was in love with died when you left me alone in that room."

Cold filled his veins, and his spine quivered at her words. This was pure hatred, plain and simple. He couldn't find it within himself to blame her, to logic his way out of his role in her misery. Every excuse he could offer could be countered with 'yes, and it was happening to her, too'. She had been his one support through every bit of rotten luck he ever had. And he left her to her fate in a strange city without a lifeline. He never imagined he would be back to have this conversation, to pick at the scabbed-over wounds he had inflicted long ago.

"Persephone… Seph…" His hands tentatively grasped for her shoulders and gave a squeeze. She flinched, but did not pull away. "I am so sorry." With a little more coaxing, he had enveloped her in his arms, his nose pressed into her hair and inhaling the familiar scent of coconut. "I'm sorry. I am sorry," he chanted, feeling the front of his shirt dampening with her tears as her shoulders relaxed and molded into him. "I am going to make it up to you. I swear."

Persephone sniffled, pulling away from his frame. "I've waited a lifetime for you to come back for me." She blinked and tears streamed down her cheeks. "But I don't want that, anymore.” She made distance, wiping at her eyes and steeling her resolve. He wanted to pull her back to him. She needed to understand his point of view, though it suddenly occurred to him that he never bothered to understand hers. “You're welcome to stay as long as you need. But this isn't fixable, Stephen."

After a tense moment of staring at each other, she skirted past him, ignoring his protests and pleads to talk, opened the pantry door and disappeared through it with a ripple. 

“Stellar job, Strange. Now we’re stuck until she gets back,” Loki commented as he slipped into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl of stew and sneaked back out. 

For once, Stephen did not argue.

[rpbetter]

someone i rp with keeps sharing hcs about my own muses that don't fit with what i believe and every time i say i don't agree with that, that my hc about that situation is "whatever", they get kinda sulky, but its usually over small things like 'your muse has no fashion sense' and not big stuff (which i did shut down the second time they did bc it almost triggered me) so i don't know how to address the pattern without sounding like a bitch

Oh, no...I'm sorry to hear that, Anon! That is an uncomfortable situation right there!

I'm going to go ahead and preface the bad part here - if they're sulky about you correcting them like you've said, there is a high chance you're going to sound like a bitch to them. No matter what you do, I mean. No matter the reality of how politely you've addressed it, if they're viewing this in a negative light already, that's unlikely to change. They want to keep doing what they're doing, do not see the problem with it, and apparently, don't care how uncomfortable it is for you. Unfortunately probable that shutting them down is not going to be received well.

Just be aware that, while I'm going to try to combat that specifically in this suggestion, it is possible that it's going to happen anyway. Know that addressing it is the right choice regardless! The way you're feeling is not okay, it needs to be addressed, and preferably before they do make you so uncomfortable and frustrated that you stop caring about how you come off to them. In the end, the variable in how one is perceived is important, and that variable is always the person on the other end and their particular attitude, biases, and so forth. At some point, you have to say that you approached it reasonably, maturely, and politely...the rest is up to them, out of your hands.

What I'm saying is that if they want to be pissed off at you and take it the wrong way? You did your best, you're not being a bitch, and you have a right to have an issue with this behavior of theirs. If they freak out about it, they're someone you're better off losing.

Alright, so, since it's expressly part of the concern you have that you don't want to sound bitchy, let's try to concentrate on that!

A good way to subvert that idea is to try to make it clear how this is making you feel. Make this the basis of why it is a problem. Remain positive sounding but honest about it.

So, let's say, you want to say something like, "it really pisses me off when you make stupid headcanons about my character, you're making me so fucking uncomfortable with this, stop." True, but not positive. Likely to make them defensive and to hurt their feelings (as it's also possible that they're doing this because they want to be really into your character and you, despite all the full irony of clearly not knowing jack about your character).

Instead, try something like this:

"Hey! I need to talk to you about something." If they're not online currently, consider adding a respectful, "It's important, so, I'm going to just leave it for you to respond to whenever you have time. Hope that's alright, I'm not trying to stress you out or anything!"

- Then, you can proceed to the problem.

"I really appreciate that you are so into my muse that you want to create headcanons for them, that's a nice thought. It's a problem for me, though. I don't want this to come off the wrong way, which is why I haven't said much about this before. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that it was something I was comfortable with, I was just worried about hurting your feelings."

- Even if you don't entirely feel this way, you're not lying...this was a concern, you didn't want to come off hateful to them, a thing undoubtedly making you even more uncomfortable, putting you in a worse position. By phrasing it in a way like this, you're heading off ideas about being unappreciative (of something you didn't want lol I know, but people have weird ideas) and callous. Instead, expressing concern for how they feel and appreciation that they're this interested in your muse and being a part of your creativity - we just want them to keep it to the threads, and, hopefully, they're not also into godmoding.

"It is really uncomfortable for me, though. This is my muse, I'm pretty invested in them, and I don't want other people writing their headcanons. They've been inaccurate before, and at least once, I did have to say something to you because it was close to triggering for me. It's not always that serious, but it can be offensive in some of the ways these headcanons are inaccurate. Those are important parts of my muse, no matter how small or silly seeming they are. It's a little hurtful, and I'm not going to lie, makes me a bit upset to think that you don't care when I've tried to talk to you about this before."

- Alright, you've told them how you feel, but were not hateful about it. Now, give them the desired outcome and more honesty, avoid coming off as giving them an ultimatum - even if you are. Because you absolutely are, just politely.

"Anyway, I appreciate having you as a writing partner and am happy that you are interested in my muse, but I can't feel this uncomfortable all the time. I think maybe we just weren't addressing it as directly as we should have been? Sorry again if I wasn't clear enough or anything. Could you please stop writing these headcanons? If there is a headcanon topic you are interested in, I would love to write it, just let me know next time and I'll do that! We can create things together that way, and in what we're writing together. Otherwise, I really do need to be the one doing the development on my muse to feel comfortable. I hope you understand!"

- You've said a couple of times politely that you need them to stop this, if it doesn't stop, they'll have to go, while reiterating this is personal comfort problem for you. You appreciate what they're trying to do here, but it's got to stop. There is an acceptable alternative that has been offered in having them send you a topic for a HC instead, as well as a reminder that you are involved in creating something together in your interactions.

Just, you know, make it sound like you, not me! Take those points and write them out in your own way, use it for inspiration as to how to discuss this.

Now, either they're going to stop...or they're not. Them being kind of "whatever" about you having an issue with this is concerning. As in, I think they're likely to not stop it. However, you've at least laid down the problem, offered solutions, and told them it's not a situation you're willing to continue dealing with. So, if/when they do it again, you can feel a bit better about either dropping them or messaging them with a, "hey, we've talked about this, it isn't cool. If you do this again, that's it. I'll have to unfollow." They've made their choice, you're not the one in the wrong here.

Total honesty, Anon? I'd be annoyed enough to drop them at this point lol so you already have more patience than I do!

Yeah, they're not unlikely to feel you're being "controlling," but that's outrageous. Look, it's your muse. That means your muse to create and/or develop as you, and only you, see fit. Other muns and muses can/do/should contribute to our characters' development, but they don't do it by overstepping like this mun is. They do it with conversations you have together about the muses and by writing with you, not by writing your muse for you.

I think, sometimes, muns feel strangely entitled to a muse because we're so used to picking up the fiction of others and running with it (canon muses and universes, fic, fanart, etc.). Don't ask me why anyone would think it was appropriate to rewrite what you've either picked up in this way or created entirely yourself lol it's just an observance. I know I've experienced it on muses canon and OC alike, and there is this attitude that I don't want to share or something? Okay, when that original fiction is published, if you want to RP as my OC, go for it. Alright, if you want to write this canon your way, no one's stopping you, but this is the way I'm writing them.

Nothing about that is unreasonable! Even if it is a canon, that's still your unique take on them, it isn't okay to do this. The only time it's alright to make a HC for someone else's muse is when you've come to them and asked if something discussed in jest or just casually about the thread (maybe an event we didn't see play out, as an example) can be HCed by you. If something like that happens, and they accept happily? Great! Totally acceptable and normal thing that happens in RP!

This is...not.

Again, I'm really sorry you're experiencing this! I wish you the best of luck, it's a tricky situation, and it doesn't sound like they're a particularly caring person. More like they have a real self-interest problem going on.

Hope for the best, expect something less than that, but don't let it impact your tone when addressing it. If they get irrationally upset at you for politely asking them, yet another time, to stop doing this, get rid of them, Anon. No one deserves infinite chances, and you deserve to enjoy your RP!

[andyyoureastarr]

d-do u have any ~~vintage zadr~~ recommendations that aren't smut? :'d (nothing against that stuff, it's just not for me)

heck yeah! here are some “oldies” from long ago (like 2012-2017) 😁    (warning: long post)

Cartography by Word-Spitting-Dragon | ~286K | T | In Progress

Summary: Resisty!Zim AU: When the Irkens start exporting dangerous goods outside of known Irken space, Zim and his fellow R.E.S.I.S.T.Y. members decide to take a look, hoping to expose something they can use to finally end the Irken Menace. But what lies out in the farthest, uncharted corners of space? And could it really help the rebel cause? ZADF eventually ZADR

Notes: I’m obsessed with this fic. It’s funny, it’s in-depth, and it takes its time (hence the word count). It’s honestly worth taking the time to read it, though. All of the characters are great; the author clearly put time into making them their own while still being true to canon with main characters like Dib and Zim. Lots of romantic tension, lots of drama, and lots of twists and turns. I have a weakness for crying Dib, and this fic delivers. It’s the main inspiration for my current WIP, and I can’t say enough good things about it.

The author doesn’t seem too worried about including smut, and has said that, if they were to do so, they’d probably keep it out of the fic and publish it as a side-story oneshot so that people who are less into smut don’t have to worry about skipping around in the story.

Say I’m the Only Bee in Your Bonnet by DesdemonaKaylose | ~6K | M | Complete

Summary: “Magazines and a vague feeling of inadequacy.” Zim fantasizes about the future and Dib did not ever intend to join the football team.

Notes: Technically kind of pre-ZaDr, but worth mentioning. Absolutely phenomenal fic. Zim and Dib are in-character. Rarely do IZ fics with a teenaged Dib truly dive headfirst into making him a ridiculous, silly teenager (as all teens are, sorry, teens). This one does it and does it well. The writing is great, and Zim is spot-on and hilarious. Can’t say enough good things about it! 

Verd’ika by DesdemonaKaylose | ~7K | G | Complete

Summary: “Maybe it starts with zombies. Maybe it starts with a rescue mission. Maybe it starts somewhere outside of what scientists and historians can quantify. But it is universal, wild, and unabashedly stupid.’Do not touch him,’ the Irken says. ‘That soldier is mine.’”

Notes: Written by the same author as Say I’m the Only Bee in Your Bonnet, this fic is also just so good. It’s styled as being part-story, part-encyclopedia entry about irkens. It’s also not strictly romantic, so I guess also pre-ZaDr, but both of DesdemonaKylose’s fics are so good, I literally can’t get enough of them and they should be on every ZaDr reclist, in my humble opinion.

Chicken Soup, Approximately by (you guessed it) DesdemonaKaylose | ~3K | G | Complete

Summary: It was like he was going to be sick, only, if he puked now there would just be little cartoon hearts all across his boots. Wow, he thought. Look at the Dib-Monkey go.

Notes: Ok last one by this author, but I’m sorry, it’s so perfect. Dib goes feral and Zim is Into It. Literally what more could you ask for? Plus a Zim POV fic is a rarity in itself and this one is just *chef’s kiss*. (Also I realize that this is from Summer 2019 so not certifiably vintage, but we’re letting it slide this time.)

a swarm of bullets tearing the air by punk_rock_yuppie | ~2K | T | Complete

Summary: Dib has a question. Zim has an answer. Or, how Dib embarrasses himself by testing out different possible alien kissing rituals.

Notes: Silly and cute, written by a talented writer. Honestly, I would be captivated by the way this writer describes water. I believe they have at least one other non-smutty ZaDr fic that you can check out as well!

The Human Kribliss by Swing-21 | ~44K | T | Complete

Summary: ‘This hatred belongs to Zim and no one else,’ muttered the alien with contained fury. ZADR

Notes: The summary really doesn’t go into details on the story, but it’s your classic fun space adventure where Zim and Dib get into lots of trouble. Love the OCs in this one – the author takes real care to tell their stories as well. I’m obsessed with Kinn, personally. Additionally, this story is super fun, Dib and Zim are ridiculous and great. I would add that this story’s sequel, The Uprising, is especially fantastic; it has the same elements as the first story, but you can tell that here is where the author really hit their stride. Keep an eye out for Dibship, who makes his first and I think only appearance in IZ fanfics. 

The Cosmic Exclamation Mark Series by cupidty11/@gaylienz | ~3K total | G-T | Complete(?)

Summary: Wherein Zim and Dib are traveling in space and this is a kind of glimpse at that. Where they are partners/friends/and somethingmoreish.

Notes: These are all great little fics starring a spacefaring Zim and Dib. This author is probably the most prolific IZ writer out there, period, and I reread a lot of their works when I get the chance (including the smut fic that I recommended to @foolishwormhuman a second ago, lol). This series I think is especially well done, and provides neat little glimpses into Dib and Zim’s life together

That’s about all I got for right now! I hope you enjoy yourself some ZaDr: Classic 😊😊

[jingabitch]

Not Enough ch.1

Summary: When Jin cheats on his girlfriend while on tour, it's the last straw for their already strained relationship.

Pairings: Jin x OC

Warnings: infidelity | angst | non-explicit sexual acts | breakup fic

A/N: wrote this a little while ago and had it on my ao3. There’s another chapter to this that is queued to go up next week, and I might write a little more for this if there’s a demand for it.

Chapter 2

Sangmi was back in her old apartment. She hadn’t even set foot in the place for months, had thought about terminating the lease since she’d all but moved in to Jin’s place by this point, but now she was glad she’d kept it. The familiarity of it was soothing, somehow. Being surrounded by all her old things, sitting on the couch and snuggled in the same blanket she’d had since college, was more comforting than she’d expected.

Dressed in the oversized varsity sweatshirt that was so worn by now the neckline stretched over her shoulder, she sipped the jasmine tea her mother had sent her. It was warm, slightly bitter, and very fragrant, and she closed her eyes as the steam tickled her nose slightly. She put the mug down and picked up the book that she’d been in the middle of the last time she’d been in her apartment. She didn’t know why, but she hadn’t brought it to his place then, and then she’d just forgotten about it.

She’d forgotten about a lot in the time that they’d been together. He had so rapidly become the center of her world, so consuming that everything else in her life had been pushed out. Meeting him in secret whenever he had a spare moment, coming into the studio at odd hours to make sure he’d eaten, worrying about whether he was taking good care of himself whenever he was away on tour… it had become her top priority.

Well, she thought, opening the book and finding the bookmark that her niece had made for her, no more of that. It was time for her to rediscover herself, as cheesy as it sounded. She was done being stupid for men. Now she would only make shitty decisions for herself.

Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, and after a quick glance at the caller ID, she ignored it. It stopped for a second, and she sighed in relief and disappointment, before starting again. Glaring at it, she silently willed it to shut up. Of course, if she’d had those powers in the first place she might not have ended up in this position, so the phone continued vibrating until it almost fell off the coffee table altogether. Growling, she swiped it up and set it to Do Not Disturb, turning it face down when she returned it to the table, then went back to her book. She was reading a particularly illuminating passage in Michelle Obama’s book about the importance of not getting too caught up in her own life plan, and felt a flash of irritation that she was being interrupted. Just like him to disregard whatever she was doing for his own selfish needs.

Jin sighed. He’d been trying to call her for hours now, and she wasn’t picking up.

“Hyung, give it up. You should leave her alone for a bit, give her some time to cool off,” Namjoon, ever the coolheaded one, advised.

Jin just shook his head. He knew that if he didn’t get through to her before she cooled off, he would never be able to fix it. No one was more scary than his girlfriend after she was angry, when all the rage and tears cooled into contempt, and she wouldn’t even listen to whatever apologies the poor person who upset her offered. It was like all emotion vanished and all there was left was calculated nonchalance.

Hell, it might already be too late.

Jungkook looked over at Jin, but didn’t say anything. He was still furious over what had happened. At the afterparty following their last performance of the tour, Jin had gotten way too drunk over a silly spat that he’d had with his girlfriend, and in his anger, had hooked up with a girl at the party. Somehow pictures of them grinding at the club, then making out at the alley behind the club, had leaked out, and that was how she’d found out about it. From the fucking tabloids.

Sangmi was a literal angel, and she didn’t deserve this. She’d been with Jin since his university days. A year younger than him, they’d been an unlikely couple from the start, with him majoring in film and acting and herself pursuing a double degree in political science and economics, yet they’d been practically inseparable since they’d met at the campus coffee joint, where he was hanging out with her senior from the touch football team and she’d gone to say hi while grabbing a coffee to fuel her last desperate attempts to get a good grade on her paper. (She’d ended up getting an A.)

She was almost like a mother to the other members, especially Jungkook, the youngest, who’d only been a child when she met him. She’d taken him under her wing, brought him food whenever she came to visit, and always let him cry on her shoulder when he missed home. And now, after tolerating Kim Seokjin’s stupid ass for six years, this was what she got in return. He wondered if he would ever see her again, but decided that he’d understand if he didn’t. She deserved to move on with her life, after all.

Three days later

SM: Cut it out.

J: Please, baby, don’t.

SM: Seriously, stop. The roses are cluttering up my desk, and my colleagues are asking questions.

J: Will you accept my apology then?

SM: There’s nothing to apologize for.

Jin winced at the simple reply. If there was nothing to apologize for, that meant that they were no longer in a relationship. She’d never been the kind of person to hold on to anger. Instead, she simply wrote the person off, dismissed them altogether from her life. He’d always thought her anger was the worst thing he could encounter, when she screamed and cried herself to pieces, but at least then she’d cared enough to have an emotional reaction. This casual, nonchalant reaction was worse, like he was just someone who’d bumped into her by accident on the street.

J: Baby, please let me explain.

There was no response.

Two weeks later

Sangmi made her way up the stairs of her walkup apartment unsteadily, tipsy at the end of the night. Her colleagues had invited her for their usual Friday night festivities, which had included karaoke on this particular night. She’d never joined them before, because Friday was usually one of the only nights of the week that Jin had free so she’d saved the night for him, but she was glad that she’d agreed to join them. It had been a hell of a time; she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d gone for karaoke.

The past two weeks had been spent reconnecting with friends, rekindling old relationships that had somehow fallen by the wayside while she’d been with Jin. It wasn’t like she’d disappeared from her friends’ lives, but Jin had been her priority for so long, and her schedule had revolved around his. There had been so many birthdays and celebrations that she’d missed because they’d fallen on one of the rare free days he’d had, plans she’d cancelled because he’d suddenly become available and she didn’t know when she’d next be able to spend time with him.

Even living in his apartment, there had been days when all she saw of him were the dent in his pillow, the missing food in the fridge, and his clothes in the laundry hamper. It was like being in a relationship with a ghost sometimes.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, she stopped short in surprise. Jin was sitting in front of her door, leaning against the wall, his tall frame looking cramped in the narrow hallway. He was on his phone, and when he heard her approach, he looked up at her and scrambled to stand up, tucking his phone in his pocket.

“Hey,” he breathed. He’d had speeches prepared, entire monologues where he poured his heart out to her and begged her to stay, but standing in front of her now he forgot them all.

She nodded at the door behind him. “I have to unlock the door,” she said quietly.

“Right, right,” he said, jumping out of the way nervously.

Sangmi unlocked the door and walked in, not turning to usher him in but not locking the door in his face either. She started taking off her shoes, her back still facing him.

“Well?” she asked when he just stared at her. “In or out?”

Jin hastily stepped into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. Sangmi went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, then turned to face him, leaning her hip against the counter.

“You’re here because…?” she prompted when it didn’t look like he was going to say anything.

Jin hesitated. Now that he was looking at her, he didn’t really know what to say. She looked amazing, better than he’d seen her in a long time. She’d faded so slowly that he hadn’t seen it at the time, the vibrant and cheerful freshman he’d first fallen in love with gradually becoming dull and colourless. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and even though she was solemn and quiet now, her eyes sparkled mischievously in a way that he barely remembered.

“Mi, baby, I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out of him.

Sangmi refilled her glass and then walked over to the couch. Ever the consummate hostess, it wasn’t lost on him that she didn’t bother offering him anything to drink. “What are you sorry for, exactly?” she asked, reclining on the couch as she regarded him steadily. “For being imprudent and getting caught? For not warning me before the pictures were leaked?”

He was taken aback by how calmly she was discussing his infidelity. “No, I meant -” he tried to explain, but she cut him off.

“Are you sorry that you cheated on me?”

Hearing her express his transgression in such blunt terms made him cringe, but he nodded, suddenly unable to look her in the eye.

“This one time, or are you apologizing for all the times before that the media didn’t catch too?”

His jaw dropped as his eyes jerked up towards her, her brow raised but otherwise calm. “You… you knew?” he sputtered.

Sangmi smiled at him sadly. “Come sit,” she invited, patting the couch next to her, and he drifted over obediently, still in shock. When he sat down, she rested her arm on the backrest, her chin resting on her hand, and looked at him.

“Of course I knew,” she said with a quiet smile. “Who do you think washed all the perfume and lipstick from your clothes?”

His mouth worked, but no words came out.

She rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic,” she said. “Of course I knew. You’re away for months at a time; it would have been too much to expect you to remain faithful. I know you, remember?” She reached out and stroked his face with her thumb.

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t like it. It would have been nice to be the only one, you know? But we’re apart for the majority of the time these days, and we both have our own ways of coping,” she said, with the ghost of a smile. “That’s why you left a string of broken hearts in every city you were in, and I have a collection of sex toys that’s way too large for a woman who’s been in a six-year relationship,” she cracked.

Jin didn’t laugh. “Then why did you -”

“Stay with you?” She shrugged. “Because I love you. Because I thought this would be temporary, that we could still eventually have the kind of relationship, the kind of life together that I want.”

“Then what changed?”

Sangmi hummed thoughtfully. “I think this incident was more of a tipping point rather than a dealbreaker event. When we were in college, it was fine keeping our relationship as is, you know? Like, marriage and settling down and all that stuff - it was all future stuff, to be sorted out at a later date. But now that I’m working, and - oh, by the way, I was assigned to that big project, did I mention to you? - people around me are settling down, it feels like something we need to think about, and I don’t think it’s working anymore.

“Jin-oppa, I love you.” She leaned in and held his face, the precious face she’d loved for so long, that girls all across the world had fallen for, for perhaps the last time. “But love isn’t enough for a long-term relationship. I want to be with someone I can be with , you know? Who I can come home to at night, tell about my day, have regular sex with, and not have to think about who else he slept with while I wasn’t there. I want to get married and have a boring relationship, walk out on the street holding hands with like I’m not a dirty, career-ending secret, and have Netflix binges with while in my glasses and sweatpants. And that’s something you’ll never be able to offer me.”

He looked like he was about to object, so she pressed her thumb lightly against his lips so he couldn’t speak. “Don’t offer things you know you’ll never be able to follow through on. You won’t, and shouldn’t, quit BTS for me. I know how much you love it, and I would never ask you to make such a huge sacrifice for me. You should live your life on your terms, but I should be allowed to live the same way too, and more and more these days, it looks like we can’t do that and be together.”

She smiled, forcing back a sob, and then she was suddenly in his lap, hugging him tight, and out of habit his arms wrapped themselves around her too. “I love you,” he whispered, the words suddenly feeling woefully inadequate. He’d never felt more selfish, hadn’t realised the toll that their relationship had taken on her. She’d always been the rock in the relationship, the one who had been there for him no matter what, who’d held him as he cried after messing up on stage and let him fuck her silly in the bathrooms at award shows when they’d won. He realised that he couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out at night without him and returned a giggling, pink-cheeked ball of fluff like she’d been before they’d become official, like she’d been tonight before she saw him.

And he knew, more than anything, that he had to let her go, that his love alone wasn’t enough to sustain her.

Sangmi stroked his hair as he buried his face in the crook where her shoulder met her neck and breathed in, the perfume he’d bought her at an airport once that had become her signature scent blending with the smell of the liquor she’d consumed and the scent of her . “I met you when the world was full of possibilities, and we didn’t know who we were. Remember?” she asked with a smile in her voice. “How we thought we could be anything, take on any challenge the world threw at us?”

But then they had become something incompatible. Him, the jetsetting idol who captured fans’ hearts with his worldwide handsome face, and her, the management consultant in a big 4 firm who could strike fear into the hearts of colleagues, subordinates and clients with a raised brow. She needed more than he could give her now, and possibly ever.

He turned and kissed her, desperately, knowing that this might well be the last time he ever did. To his surprise, she kissed him back just as ardently, her arms tightening around him as she pulled him closer.

Pulling back slightly to take a breath, she leaned her forehead against his. “One more for the road?” she asked, giggling as she ground down against him slightly.

That was all he needed to hear. He immediately picked her up and made his way to the bed, with her clinging on to him as she marked his neck the way she knew he liked. It wasn’t what he wanted from her, but maybe it would be enough. It had to be, he thought as he set her down on the bed and she immediately attacked the buttons on his shirt. He would be satisfied with this, he swore to himself. If it was what made her happy.

[bngtanah]

The Difference Between Boys & Girls | o7

summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss.

pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park) feat. Park Jimin (Brian Yi)  x Named OC characters: meet the cast.

genre: angst, smut, fluff word count: 3k chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14 warning: boyfriend!hoseok, jealous!hoseok, painter!jimin, friends to lovers trope, college au, angst, sexual themes, slow burn, arguing, pining

a/n: this ones a bit short, sorry!

Sammy stopped waiting for Erin to return long after the sun had set and the plates of food he'd set out for both of them grew cold and inedible. His intentions for the night were simple; treat Erin to a highly deserved meal prepared by someone who was not him, commend her for how hard she had been working lately in order to do as well as she could on her few remaining final exam and somehow during the night offhandedly mention the fact that he was in love with her and probably has been since the first time they met. Just to gauge her reaction. It was a simple plan that didn't require any extra factors to be accomplished but it definitely did require Erin to be present, which she was not.

A frown turned down the corners of Samuel's lips and created an expression that was rarely seen on his naturally bright and cheery face.  With one final glance down at his cell phone that had been quiet all night, Sam huffed and pushed himself back from the coffee table then stood up. It was well after 12 and Erin hadn't called, texted or left any indication of where she might have been and what was taking her so long to come back home. He thought about calling her as he blew out the single candle that was placed in the middle of the coffee table, Samuel argued with himself the entire time he put away the extra food and ultimately decided that he shouldn't. He was worried about her but that didn't really give him ample reason to treat her like a child breaking curfew, especially since he had a vague idea of where could be at this hour.

Samuel knew that Erin wasn't exactly a party-going socialite so she couldn't have been out dancing; if she was staying late at the library or work she would have texted him or left a note for him somewhere when she came home. He had also taken note of the aftermath of clothing and makeup left behind by hurricane Erin all over her room which meant she went someplace where she wanted to look her best and there was only one reason Erin really dressed up these days. 

Brian.

The image of that orange-haired punk putting his hands on Erin made Sammy grit his teeth and fling his body back against the couch. He was letting his imagination get the better of him but just thought of anyone but him comforting Erin after a long day at work, touching her or anything else made Samuel's blood boil. His feelings were irrational and childish and even if Samuel recognised that it wouldn't have stopped the anger that found root in his heart or the ache that pinged him after he allowed his agitation to settle down.

Erin was no longer just his.

She was content in finding happiness elsewhere and Samuel had to find a way to accept that. They were getting older and even though he would have loved to, Sam supposed they couldn't continue to simply play house for the rest of their lives. Eventually, they had to grow up and maybe that meant growing apart too.

Brian was normally a late riser. It was never unusual for him to still be in a deep sleep well after 12 in the afternoon but today was different. Today he was up with the sun and the scent of lingering arousal and a familiar gentle aroma of woman’s perfume filled his nose. The first thing he felt was something against his face, warm, soft brown and ticklish. A yawn forced his jaw to go slack as the sunlight shone through the window, brightening up his bedroom. A nest of brown hair rested below his nose, belonging to the naked feminine body that was cuddled up against him. 

He swept a few strands of her hair away from Erin's slumbering face as a small, tender smile crept upon his lips. Her current expression was in such contrast to the one she was wearing just a few hours ago when she crying out with pleasure beneath him. Now she was so quiet. So calm. Brian wasn't sure which one he liked better. He pressed a kiss on her earlobe, then traveled down to her neck and brushed his lips gently against her skin until she stirred slightly and turned to her side, muttering something that sounded like 'Quit playing Sammy', but Brian couldn't be sure.

He ignored the doubt and peeled himself away from Erin's body, the cold air of his loft attacking his body the second he was no longer covered by the plush comforters. Brian pulled a pair of joggers on his lower body and decided that he might as well pick up the rest of the clothing that had randomly landed around the floor of his bedroom while he was at it. In a careful and lazy manner he retrieved most of Erin's clothes and placed them on the edge of the bed near where she lay, he grinned again when Erin rolled onto her back and spread her arms out at her side. Her jacket was in his hand and he was about to place on the bed with the rest of her clothes but something fell out of the pocket and gave him pause. 

Brian knew the easy thing to do would have been to put the folded up sheet of paper back into the jacket pocket since it wasn't his and he didn't really have a reason to read it, but he was curious and figured it was probably just some leftover fax from work that Erin had forgotten to send out. It wouldn't hurt to read it.

So Brian unfolded the sheet of paper and instead of seeing figures and numbers or a schedule of some sort like he expected Brian found himself reading a handwritten note from Erin's roommate. There was nothing scandalous written, and it definitely seemed like a friendly gesture between friends but something about the way Samuel wrote 'Love, Sammy' with a silly little heart in place of the 'o' and the general tone of the note rubbed Brian the wrong way. It was all just so.... intimate. An innocent kind of intimacy but still an intimacy that Brain often didn't feel when he was alone with Erin. The paper crumpled in Brian's fist and he shoved it back into the pocket where it fell from and tossed the jacket onto the bed before swiftly moving out of the room.

It took another few minutes for Erin to wake up and realise that she was alone in bed in a bedroom that did not belong to her. The initial panic within her subsided when she remembered that she was still in Brian's loft and her arms stretched far above her head as she sat up and glanced around the empty room. Everything looked so different bathed in sunlight but Erin didn't allow herself to linger for too long, she was out of bed and dressed in a matter of seconds and quickly went to search for her boyfriend. 

Erin smiled widely when she caught sight of him in the kitchen fumbling around with something she couldn't see. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and buried her face into the space between his shoulder blades, pressing her plush lips against his warm bare skin. 

"You let me wake up alone, rude" She giggled and hardly noticed the way he tensed up when her lips made contact with his body.

"Sorry," Brian muttered in response but didn't turn around.

Erin was slightly put off by his curt response and her eyes squinted downward for a moment but she pushed on regardless, concluding that Brian just may not have been a morning person.

"So um, I was thinking that since I have my final final in a few hours and I can't really stay for too long today maybe we could meet up this afternoon? You promised to take me back that speakeasy pub last month and we still haven't been back."

Brian shrugged and gave Erin a halfhearted 'maybe' in response but when he stopped washing dishes and moved from the sink to the refrigerator like she wasn't even holding him his actions left her confused and honestly a little hurt. She didn't understand why he was acting like his, especially after last night. 

"Are you okay Brian?" She asked gently, still hovering around the sink.

"I'm fine" he replied with his head hidden behind the door of the fridge.

Erin shuffled on the heels of her feet and bit down on her lip, he definitely didn't sound fine.

"Are you sure because you seem a little...upset? Is this about last night? Do you think we're moving too fast or something?" Erin paused and laced her fingers together "Do you regret sleeping with me?"

Her last question made Brian shut the door and look directly at her for the first time that morning, his expression soft and apologetic.

"What? No, of course I don't" he said in a whisper as he reached forward to pull her against his chest.

"Then why are you acting so weird?"

Brian pressed his lips together and rested his cheek against Erin's temple. 

"It's silly..."

"I still wanna hear it"

"...fine. I found something this morning that made me a little upset that's all"

"Upset? With me?" Erin asked and pulled her head back to look up at her boyfriend.

"Yeah. I came across the little note that your roommate left you when I was picking up your clothes and I didn't like it."

"Wait a minute, you were snooping through my pockets while I slept? Do distrust me that much?"

Erin completely detached herself from Brian's body and put an ample amount of space between them. She could understand if he was upset about something that actually warranted a reaction but there was nothing written there to explain this kind of reaction.

"I wasn't snooping, it fell out!"

"That doesn't matter who are you to be rifling through my personal effects? That note wasn't addressed to you so you had no business reading it, and what the hell could have made you so damn vexed? Is no one else allowed to hope I have a good day but you?"

Brian exhaled deeply and girded his hips, he was doing his best to keep a level head but with Erin's voice raising slightly the more she spoke it was becoming harder for him to remain docile. 

"It's not what was written on the paper but the tone of it all that bothered me."

"Because you can judge tone just by reading something?"

"No, but I can judge it based on past experience, I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not paying attention Erin. You've said that there's nothing going on between you two I not so convinced of that. I mean we can barely get through one date without you mentioning his name at least five times, trust me I've counted."

Erin gasped, her fingers raking through the front of her hair as she turned away from him for a few moments before turning back to face him with her features shrouded in anger.

"Are you fucking kidding me? If this has been bothering you for so long why are you just now bringing it up, you've had so many opportunities to ask me about this?"

"I didn't think it would be a problem before now, and look I don't want to keep bringing this up but can you honestly tell me that he doesn't feel anything for you? I'm not saying he's got to be in love with you but you can't live with someone and not-"

"Of course, we love each other!" Erin bellowed before Brian had a chance to finish his sentence, her gaze wild with anger as she stepped toward Brian who looked startled. 

"We've known each other for over half the duration of our lives, we have shared every major moment in life since middle school. I know that Sammy loves me with every part of him that is capable of giving love but there is a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. He's not in love with me." Erin noticed the slight tremble in her voice when she spoke, the part of her that still wished Sammy felt some other way was still alive and ached when the reality of her words hit her.

"I-i'm sorry, I shouldn't have overreacted..." Brian stuttered and attempted to reach for her shoulder but Erin side stepped him and shook her head.

"I'm going to be late for my test."

It's well into the afternoon when Erin finally returns to her apartment and finds Sammy bundled up on his pullout bed watching something on Netflix that she didn't recognize. Silently she kicked off her shoes, dropped her bag and made a beeline straight for her roommate, forcing her way into his lap which made him sit up rigidly and peer down at her.

"Can you hold me?" were her only words and Samuel was quick to oblige her by wrapping his arms tightly around her body and holding Erin tight to his chest. He recognized the pained expression on her face and knew that she would probably need a minute before she felt like telling him what was wrong. So they both sat in a comfortable silence, the background noise from the television filling the void until Samuel finally looked down at Erin and ticked up one of his eyebrows.

"What's wrong, noona?"

Erin took a deep breath and relayed her entire day to Sam, the fight with Brian, her race to her university, the fact that she nearly missed her opportunity to take her final exam and the fact that she was so distracted from her argument with Brian she may have bombed her final. She was on the verge of tears by the time she was done speaking but Samuel calmed her in a way that only he could by pressing his soft lips against her temple and gently stroking the length of her hair, muttering gentle compliments against her skin the entire time.

"I am 100% sure you didn't fail that final, I've heard you reciting literary nonsense in your sleep for the past two weeks. Even if you were distracted there's no way you could have failed."

Erin pouted, she was glad for the reassurance but her gut was telling her otherwise.

"And about your fight with...your boyfriend," 

Erin clamped up the moment he mentioned the fight. In her haste to tell him what was bothering her she had completely forgotten to censor herself, she didn't mean to mention that he was the cause of their fight.

"You know he's wrong, right? I mean I love you, you know I do but...I-....you're family it'd be weird to think of you in any other way." Sammy managed to crack a playful smile even though he was dead inside, those words pained him to say more than he thought but he couldn't bring himself to say anything else. He didn't want to sway her heart, not like this when she was vulnerable and troubled. Erin sniffled and nodded quickly, pretending to be relieved when he said the exact opposite of what she wanted to hear.

"That's what I told him," She said softly and pulled back from and made and effort to get off his lap, "Sorry for bombarding you like this, I just needed a hug." Erin chuckled and stood to her feet.

"I'll always be here to give you one" Sam replied and then neither of them spoke for a few seconds, staring each other down and holding their gaze like they both wanted to say something but in the end no one spoke up and Erin found herself awkwardly waving and walking away.

She slumped to the ground the second she closed the door behind her and Erin buried head between her knees, she had been trying to hold in the tears since Samuel held her but hearing him admit what she already feared was the final straw to break the dam of her tears. What started as a gentle stream soon evolved into a silent sob as Erin pressed her head backwards against the door in a shallow attempt to stop herself from violently weeping like a teenager. She already had suspicions that Sammy didn't feel the same way so why did this hurt so much? A part of her wanted to go back out to the living room, grab her roommate by the collar of his thin white t-shirt and explain to him that she believed that they were soul mates and they belonged together she didn't care if he saw it or not. But what would that prove? It would shake the foundations of their friendship and Erin wasn't so sure their relationship could handle such a blow.

Instead of mustering up courage Erin dragged her body towards her bed and pushed herself underneath the mess of clothes and blankets, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day.

[pbjpuppy]

C for Cherry and N for Vinny!!

C: Comfort

1. how do they sit in a chair?

The first word I thought of to reply with this is “obnoxiously”. You know when someone sits in a chair like taking up as much space as possible and kind of slumped down in it like they just DO NOT CARE? That’s Cherry. She sits DISRESPECTFULLY

2. in what position do they sleep?

HMM I HAVE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THIS ACTUALLY which is surprising because Cherry is one of my OCs who has been analyzed to death SJDBDK she usually sleeps on her side I think... or on her back. I can imagine her sleeping on her back but it seems so uncomfortable to me bc I sleep on my stomach AKDNDLB then again. She could sleep leaned against a wall. She could sleep anywhere

3. what is their ideal comfort day?

If we’re talking canon Cherry here all she ever wanted was personal connection so probably just like, an outing with a friend or two!! Maybe to the movies, or just like, fucking around at the local park and chasing each other with sticks or something. Just stupid silly fun with another person she can feel safe around and let her guard down for a little while

4. what is their major comfort food? why?

ANOTHER THING I HAVENT THOUGHT OF... I can imagine Cherry having a sweet tooth and really liking ice cream. OH WAIT IVE THOUGHT ABOUT FAV ICE CREAM FLAVOR. She likes root beer floats!! She liked root beer a lot in general tbh she drank a lot of it

5. who is the best at comforting them when down?

I’d have to go with Razerr (before they had their big falling out in canon, or in an AU where he lives)!! Unfortunately she never really had anyone she trusted enough to be openly emotional around them, but if anyone knew her well enough to know when her anger was reallt just hurt, it was Raze. He wasn’t exactly a therapist, but he was able to provide a quiet comfort she couldn’t really get from anyone else.

THIS IS ALREADY VERY LONG. VINNYS TURN

N: Never Have I Ever

1. what would they never do?

There’s a LOT of things that are against Vinny’s morals (and he has a very strong moral compass), but something that’s very important to him is never, ever physically hurting his loved ones out of anger. He’s made that mistake in the past and has vowed to never do it again, and it’d take nothing short of possession to make him break that promise.

2. what have they never done that they want to do?

GOOD QUESTION... This is a touch existential but what Vinny truly wants is to make some sort of genuine positive impact on the universe. He believes that because of his fiction awareness and dimension-hopping ability, he should try to do something really good with it that’ll really last. So far, he hasn’t been able to find what that is yet.

3. is there anything they absolutely can’t believe people do?

Honestly Vinny is one of the most open-minded, accepting, understanding people on Earth but he has some STRONG opinions on what some people choose to put on their pizza

4. what is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done?

Vinny is just an embarrassing man. He’s so awkward. He is so stupid. I WISH I COULD THINK OF SOMETHING SPECIFIC but like yknow the whole “enjoy your meal” “you too” kind of awkward interactions? He’s done all of those but REAL bad

5. have they done anything they thought they’d never do?

I don’t think he EVER expected himself to slap the metal mask off his alternate self who became an evil god with a gun that allows him to hop dimensions. That is not what he put on his “what will I be when I grow up” worksheets in elementary school but here he is baby!!!

SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ALWAYS

[ocean-taste]

Surrender to the Sun (Jasper x OC fluff) STEVEN UNIVERSE

SUMMARY: Amber lives on her own on an island close to Beach City. Her life changes when Jasper washes up on her beach, quite soon after she begs Lapis to take her back.

WARNINGS: Just a fluffy kiss.

~

Had she known what awaited on her on that beach, the same beach she walked on every day – where something new waited for her, I suspect she would’ve turned around, and walked far away. For she was now a woman of routine, she didn’t mean to be, that was what she had become, and when there was something new – often it wasn’t pleasant. Or at least, that’s what she had come to believe.

But in this story she didn’t walk away, she did anything but. After she pulled down the flag that evening, her dark green eyes laid upon a figure in the sand below her. A fish? Or a whale? Maybe some trash from Beach City had washed up on her lonely shore, whatever it was she went to inspect, and soon became horrified to see it was a human figure facing lifeless on the sand.

“Oh my god! Hello?! Are you okay? Can you hear me!” 

Quickly she shook the figure, it was large and full of muscle, and heavy to lift as she pushed the person so they were lying on their back. So heavy in fact, she found herself falling on top of them.

“O-Oh my gosh I’m sorry-“

“She doesn’t want me.” Lifting her head she saw the person, was in fact a woman. Facing upwards vacantly in the sky, her amber eyes somewhere far away.

“What? Um, I’m Amber, what’s your name? Are you hurt?”

“She doesn’t want me.” The woman’s deep voice sunk even lower than before, Amber stared down at her confusedly as she still laid on the woman’s chest, though clearly the woman was too strong to mind or even notice.

“She doesn’t want me.” Amber’s heart broke a little when she listened to the woman’s voice break; as soon as tears began to form on her strong face she hid them with her arm. Biting her lip fiercely as she forced back the tears and croaks.

“I’m useless, disgusting, worthless, no wonder she doesn’t want me! But I’m nothing without her! I don’t want to be on my own again!”

“H-hey, you’re not alone.. I’m here aren’t I? C’mon,” Hesitantly, Amber placed her hand on the golden woman’s cheek, making her jump a little at the touch.

“What’s your name? Let’s start there.”

“…Jasper.”

“Jasper. Okay. You’re soaking wet, you’ve got sea water in your eyes even.” 

Jasper held back a smile as the human girl used the ocean as a disguise for her tears, she didn’t know her at all but somehow she knew she didn’t want to owe up to the fact she was crying.

“Let’s get you dry and warm, c’mon. It’s getting dark.”

~ I had that dream again, where I told that big orange lug how I had come to feel. It has been playing on my mind for some time now, when I finally realised what I’ve been feeling. The dream replays in my mind constantly, but it always ends before Jasper could answer – a typical cliché. Because I knew what she’d say: she belongs to someone else.

It took me awhile it’s fair to say to discover I held romantic feelings towards her, as we’ve always been close. We kinda had no choice in that matter, she washed up on my beach one day and I was as isolated as they came. With only a boat ride once a month coming with my groceries from Beach City, I was all on my own on my little cliff, and that’s how I liked it. Until now of course. We didn’t warm to each other immediately, but she knew she needed some help even if she didn’t want to admit it and I was curious about her, having little to no contact with people I wondered if a gem would be any different, and she was – she was better.

She had a natural admiration for new things and how they worked, whenever she thought I wasn’t looking she would show her curiosity with beaming golden eyes with the most stupid, but most adorable look on her face. When she’d catch me looking she’d clear her throat and ask what such a strange object was, and I’d tell her it was a toaster or something silly that has long since lost it’s magic for me – a boring human. But not to Jasper, that little toaster meant the world for a little moment – that’s when I knew, I was falling deeper and deeper.

“I-I’m.. not good enough…”

I turned my head to see the big orange giant I adored, having the same nightmare again. Though Jasper didn’t need sleep she’d put herself into it just because there was a chance she’d see her again.

I clenched my sheets as I brought my knees to my face, trying to bury myself away from the resentment I felt. Jasper told me everything. Though now I think she regrets it, and pretends she never mentioned it. As she did burst emotionally to me when we first met, though I don’t think she meant to. I just happened to be there to listen.

~

“I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER!!!” The woman screamed again as she punched her fist into the waters. Her large fingers sinking into the sand like the tears that streamed down her face. Again and again she’d punch the waves of subdued waters that had once kept her prisoner, but they remained unaffected by her passion.

“I’M NOTHING!!! I’M NOTHING-“

Slap.

Jasper breathed heavily as her vision returned to her. Indeed the slap was weak, Jasper was one of the strongest Gems back in homeworld - any normal strength being was like a fly to her, and yet something still dared to test her. She turned and saw a human. Staring down at her with fiery green eyes. 

“Shut up!”

“Y-you.. YOU DARE TRY TO SILENCE ME?” Jasper tried to push herself up but her arms still felt so heavy and her legs refused to stand. Being under such pressure for so long, her body felt like lead. It was only moments ago her strength in her arms returned.

“I hate people like you, that’s why I moved away from everyone. Yet here you are, on my beach. Punching water.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Jasper croaked as she swung her arms at the human, though she was kneeling she tried to land a hit but they only stepped back, making her fall face first on the sand again.

Jasper spat at the golden dust that itched at her fangs, it tasted like her. The salt. The water. All of it, was her in some way. Jasper loathed how she was feeling, Jaspers’ were meant to be strong – unfazed by emotions in the heat of battle. But that ocean wrench, had gotten under her skin.

“She’s.. gone.. She left me; all alone… you don’t get it. I feel like there’s something missing.. something important…”

“I know. But you’re wrong to value yourself on whether a person is with you or not.” Slowly, Jasper felt a hand slither from under her chin against the sand, and carefully raise her head so she looked up. Of course Jasper’s head alone was heavy, so the human slipped her other hand there to help. Jasper stayed still, for the first time in her life – she felt too distraught, too angry, too sad – to even feel or do anything.

“You, yourself are that important something. You have to – look inside yourself for it. It’s something that doesn’t need someone else for it to shine, it just – does. You think you can only be strong with this person, that’s not true. And it isn’t love. Love is when that person cheers you on, but you don’t need them to be there – you choose for them to be there. To watch each other shine, then you shine together.”

Jasper could only stare at the human as her vision once again began to grow black, but in her last act the Gem reached out for the human.

“Shine…”

And there she fell, back into the golden sand. 

~

“God I said such corny stuff back then..” I cringed as I thought back to the memory, running a hand in my hair as Jasper shifted in her sleep again.

“..Good…Enough…” I bit my lip as I lay back down next to her. Staring at her blonde hair falling over her eyes as her brow continued to fury together as she dreamt on restlessly. It angered me how this other Gem person still affected Jasper, that my words really hadn’t sunk in back then. What I’d give if she would just – maybe, think of me like she did with this other gem. Maybe my idea of love was all wrong; maybe I wanted her to be selfish with me. To consume me. 

But what the hell would I know? I couldn’t even take my own advice. When things got hard back home I just got up and left, I didn’t let anyone reach out to me. Now I have a gem I am beside myself in love with, but she doesn’t hold any emotion like that towards me. I guess I deserved it, a runaway like me – doesn’t deserve love.

“..Enough… She… Good…” Jasper mumbled, rubbing her face in the pillows whilst I shuffled closer to her.

“I want to be good enough.. for you…” The warmth I felt from Jasper was always unreal to me, she was like a golden sun, and I so desperately wanted to be burnt.

“I’m no Gem but.. I’d try to make you happy… happy enough to coexist with me… so if anything were to happen; you could live on with little pain… I don’t know what I’m saying, or what I mean… and you’re asleep and I’m frustrated but- damnit Jasper. I lo-“

Panic struck me as I looked up to see the whites of Jasper’s eyes glowing in the dark, staring strait at me with not an inch of sleep in her iris’. She was as wide awake as they came. I jumped back in shock, but she only pinned me down beneath her in response. I stared up at her, trying to read her expression in the dark but my eyes weren’t adjusting quick enough. But I knew with her alien vision – she could see my bright red cheeks.

“Finish what you were saying.”

“A-aha, what? Saying what? I’m s-sure I don’t know-“

“Don’t lie. Say it.”

I rolled my lips in a tight thin line, keeping my secret far back at the end of my throat. I turned my head against the pillow, refusing to meet her gaze whilst I tried to look for a solution but my mind grew blank. I could feel her grow angry as her grip on my arms tightened a little – but not too much, she was always aware of how weak I was compared to her.

“…I don’t want to use violence, but I’m a Jasper. That’s all I know to get information.” 

I turned to look up at her desperately, slightly afraid of what she’d do. She could crush me easily if she wasn’t careful. Slowly she raised her arms into her battle stance I had grown to know, even though I was at the other end of her fists she still looked so beautiful above me.  The way her biceps flexed as she shifted, her own body was dancing and I bet that was how she thought of war – a dance.

Funny how before I knew her, I could never see war and pain as something as beautiful as a dance. But she made me think that maybe I could find it beautiful, or more like I want to see her fight. I want to see her do everything, and remember every detail.

Quickly her hands descended upon me, I flinched as I expected a punch but instead I was greeted with a strange feeling. An itch? No a pinch? Whatever it was, it was sending shivers all over me and it made me want to laugh – looking down I saw her tickling me all over, receiving the desired effect from me as I laughed hysterically.

Her fingers crossed over my skin numerous times, returning to certain spots where she knew I found particularly infectious, quickly she was winning as tears formed in my eyes.

“H-ha! Haha! Jas-Jasper stop! Please!”

“Not until you finish what you were saying!”

She pressed deeper into my ticklish areas as the tears streamed down my face, I knew I couldn’t handle anymore as my legs flailed in the air as she sat on my lap, unaffected by my attacks – her mission was clear. With a shaky inhale I ran through the words in my mind, hugging them dearly as they had stayed with me for so long – now at last they’d reach her. The one I desired most.

“F-Fine!... I… I-I…. I love y-you Jasper.”

Instantly her fingers stopped and returned to her side. I pressed the switch next to my bed, lighting my bedside lamp so I could see her better. I turned to see my lovable giant half smiling. But the disappointment in her eyes was clear. “Well… stop.” Pain struck the inside of my heart, but it soon turned into something bitter.

“S-stop? Y-you can’t just… dismiss me like that! Fine if you don’t love me back but- goddammit Jasper I love you! Accept my feelings at least!”

“Amber stop that. You look like fire. If you don’t stop I’ll-“

“You’ll what? Tickle me again? Fine! Do your worst! I don’t care! Whatever you do, I won’t stop loving you-“

Before I could react, I felt a pair of lips crash against my own. They were hot, warm like a golden sun, at long last – I was burning. My hands travelled up into her long golden locks as I stroked her head and hair. I felt her large hands travel up and down my side, making me shiver. One of her hands gripped mine and pushed it above my head, her grip light, she let me determine how tightly she could go. Even now, she was aware of her strength against me.

Soon we parted for a breath; she stared down at me with eyes I hadn’t seen before. They weren’t their usual distant hurt ones, they were here. Whatever she had been looking at before, she was finally looking at me. I felt like I could melt into my sheets if I wanted to, but I needed answers.

“Jasper… what am I to you?”

Instantly Jasper looked hurt from this notion, she shook her head as her cheeks began to bloom a bright orange. She hid her face in my neck, not wanting to meet my eye.

“…I’m a Quartz, Amber.  I am stronger than anything on this human world; I could destroy mountains with just my fist if I wanted to.  Which is why… I shouldn’t love you, Amber. I could kill you if I’m even the slightest too rough… you’re like glass to me.”

“I don’t care.” Gently I pushed her off me, she did so obliged as I stared down at her.

“You could never break me. I’ve been breaking myself not telling you how I’ve felt. Jasper, let’s at least try. “ 

Jasper stared up at me, scanning my eyes for any sense of hesitance. When she was sure she had found none, she sighed. I prepared myself to be dismissed again when I felt her hands slowly rise up and down my thighs, I looked back at her and she was smiling shyly.

“This is the one battle I’m willing to lose.”

I smiled ear to ear; something began at my toes then rushed up to my head. Like a bolt of hot lightening. I leaned down and kissed her again, she obliged, our lips matching together perfectly. Her hands began to travel and explore me completely as did mine, and as I began to melt to her touch – I knew nothing would be the same ever again.

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Hjem(løs)  - Ivar x OC - Modern AU - Part 12

Hjem(løs) = Home(less)

Synopsis: It’s Juleaften and Silje walks home from a late Christmas shopping spree. On her way back to her apartment, she makes an unexpected encounter.

Word count: 11,5k

MASTERLIST

Part 11 <<< >>> Part 13

The day Ivar flew off to Ireland, Silje was quiet. She was pretty proud of herself for not even crying when she damn well wanted to, especially when he kissed her one final time before hurrying off to board his plane. Quite the deed for someone who usually started sobbing within the first thirty seconds of a cute dog video montage or airport reunion videos.

She half expected the tears to well up during her train ride back home after parting ways with Ivar at the airport. They did not. Her eyes stayed totally dry and she walled herself up in silence the rest of the day. It was still early, barely past noon, and she had yet to eat lunch. Cooking seemed like an insurmountable task.

It was so still and quiet in here all of a sudden. There was no one to talk to. What did she do all alone in her apartment before Ivar moved in? Did she talk to herself? Read? Hum along to a tune? What the hell was she supposed to do all by herself? Chat up her upside-down reflection in her spoon?

She dropped it back into her mug and the clatter sounded louder than usual. Silje glanced at the digital clock on the microwave and groaned, letting her head fall back. Her eyes were trained on the ceiling, and she wondered if she ever took the time to look at it. It was white with light wooden beams. Who even cared about her ceiling? At least she would be back on the benches in a couple weeks, and univeristy would keep her busy enough to stop wondering what to do with her free time.

Ivar had been away for two hours and she was having a quiet breakdown on her couch, slouched in the most unlady-like fashion. Going out was out of the question because she had removed her makeup as soon as she came home and she wouldn't wish her sullen company to anyone.

The loud music of Nicolaj's ringtone nearly gave her a heart attack. She fumbled around to try and find the damn thing. It took her another chorus of Raining Men to find it.

“Yeehaw motherfucker,” her friend yelled into the phone. Was he high? Drunk? No it was too early, even for him.

“Chill out, cowboy,” Silje replied, not entirely sure what to answer to his singular greeting.

“Sorry, I panicked,” he said with an awkward laugh. “Thought you'd be a sniffling mess by now. How's dear Ivar? Catch his flight on time?”

“Exactly. So why are you interrupting my pity party?” she fired back without much conviction.

“We're not interrupting!” Laura's voice came through the phone too.

“We're crashing it baby, and you can't stop us,” Nicolaj kindly informed her.

“Absolutely not, I want to be alone with my dark cloud,” she immediately told them. “Leave me be.”

“Oh I'm sorry,” Ava's voice now spoke. “Did it sound like we were asking permission? Because that's not what's happening.”

Silje held the phone away from her ear and covered it with her hand while she let out the longest sigh she could muster. Then she put it back.

“Alright. But I'll be complaining the whole time. Don't say I haven't warned you!”

It was a miracle none of her friends crashed at her place while Ivar was still there. She should consider herself lucky that they only decided to impose now that he was gone. Maybe it would do her some good to not be alone. At the very least she would be able to speak without feeling like she was slowly spiralling into madness. Seriously, what did she do when she lived alone?

She might have to pick up crochetting just to keep insanity at bay.

“We expect as much,” Laura answered, followed by other people laughing.

The gods knew how many of them would soon crowd her living room. They would have do deal with the empty mugs sitting in strange places and the general mess – she wasn't in the right state of mind to clean up, and Ivar and her had made quite the mess while they packed.

“Oh, we're already here by the way. This was merely a heads up phone call, just in case you were sleeping it off or something,” Nicolaj said. “Open up, bitc-!”

Silje hang up before he could finish his sentence. What an endearing dumbass. She conjured all of her energy to get up and buzz them in, hearing the sound of their footsteps in the stairway.

The entire band was here – Laura, Ava, Nicolaj, Matthias and Asmus. Now she did wish she was still wearing makeup.

“You don't look fresh,” Nicolaj immediately commented, and Silje flipped him off because she wasn't in the mood. “Oh man, sorry. Someone's grumpy.”

“Of course she is.” Asmus pushed his brother aside to hug Silje. Silje stuck her tongue out at Nicolaj while she hugged Asmus, just to spite him. “You're still crying over your ex everytime you hear a Rhianna song playing. She's allow to be bummed about her boyfriend leaving for a year abroad.”

“Excuse me?!” Nicolaj screeched in offense while Ava doubled over in laughter, and Laura and Matthias went off about this being the most shade anyone's ever thrown Nicolaj. “Forgive me for finding Diamonds emotional.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Matthias said. He slapped Nicolaj's back as he walked past him and into the apartment. “Just own up to it, man.”

“Mus, as my brother, you should side with me and not use sensible information against me!”

“What fantasy world do you live in? Of course I'm using my status to dig up dirt about you and use it against you!” Asmus laughed with Silje. “I usually do it just for fun, but today it's to get a smile out of this one.”

“Thank you, Mus. It does lift my spirits to hear about Nicolaj's misery,” Silje admits before letting them all in and closing the door. “It's a mess. That's what you get for coming here unannounced.”

“Ehm, we did announce our coming, technically,” Ava argued. She threw her arms around her best friend's shoulder and held her tight for a moment, until Laura got tired of waiting for her turn and simple joined in.

“I'm feeling left out here,” she said as an explanation. “Do you feel the love yet, Silje? Should we hug longer?”

What a group of nerds.

*

Silje couldn't sleep. Her bloodshot eyes glared at her alarm clock, staring at the angry red numbers, watching them change. 1:12am.

She blinked slowly. 1:13am. Her alarm was set for 6pm, she had to get some sleep otherwise she would start dozing off in the middle of her presentation for her 8am class. Was it stress that kept sleep at bay? Or the fact that her bed was empty and cold?

All she wanted was a minute in Ivar's arms, to feel warm and safe. A minute was all she needed to finally fall asleep. But her hand stretched up to the edge of the bed and still, there was nothing but her sheets and no Ivar. How much could one miss another person? She felt she would find out soon, because every day she clammed up a little more, what with the eerie silence and stillness of everything in her apartment.

It hasn't been this quiet and lifeless in a long time. Every day when she came home from university only to find the place plunged in the dark and utterly silent, she wanted nothing more than turn back on her heels and leave it. Ivar was missing from the scenery, and from her life.

But even then, life didn't stay on hold because Ivar wasn't there anymore, and she had to deal with her problems alone. Grumbling to herself, Silje threw the duvet away and stood up, quickly wrapping herself in her fuzzy robe to fend off the cold. It was only early October, but Denmark had said goodbye to Summer a few weeks ago already.

In an attempt to think about something else than her dearly missed boyfriend or her upcoming presentation, Silje decided to change her bedsheets. Maybe clean linens would help her rest tonight, and if not then she wouldn't have to change them in two days like she had planned. It took her a while, as per usual, because changing a duvet cover on a queen size bed on your own can be quite the ordeal, especially if you do it in the middle of the night in a zombie state like Silje.

Eventually it was done, and then Silje thought it was useless to go back in the fresh sheets if she wasn't clean herself, and went to take a quick shower, hoping that the smell of her shampoo would soothe her enough to make up for Ivar's absence. He always used the same shampoo as her, she even smuggled one into his suitcase without telling him, so he would have something from home while he was away.

She had never been one to depend on someone else. She never missed not sleeping alone before, she actually liked having a large bed all to herself, but now it just felt a little wrong. Did Ivar have the same issues? Did he lie awake at night and wish he could hold her instead of his pillow?

Mushy romantic thoughts aside, Silje did wish he missed her a little. And perhaps she also wished he couldn't sleep tonight, no matter how selfish the thought. After wrapping her hair in a towel turban, she returned to bed and slipped under her soft, clean smelling sheets, feeling a new person.

But still, she didn't fall asleep, and in a last attempt to get any shut eye tonight, she grabbed her phone and opened her messages. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard a moment, not knowing what to type or if she should type anything at all, but she eventually did and hit sent.

To Ivar: Are you asleep?

A silly question, she knew it. However, even just reaching out to him felt good and made her smile. He probably wouldn't see the message, he must be sleeping. Hopefully waking up to this in the morning would make him smile, even just a little.

Her phone lit up.

From Ivar: No. Watching a movie... [Download file]

Silje's eyebrows shot up, and that's when she realized that she really didn't expect him to answer. She just wanted to reach out. Her thumb slid on the file he sent. It was a picture of his computer sitting on his lap, with Gladiator playing.

From Ivar: Bad choice. Made me cry twice already.

A big smile crept on her face now, and she typed a quick response.

To Ivar: Want me to watch it with you? How far into the movie are you?

From Ivar: You have a presentation in the morning, you should sleep.

To Ivar: You have work in the morning.

From Ivar: Time zones tho.

A second message popped on her screen.

From Ivar: Okay fine, WE should be sleeping.

To Ivar: Why don't you?

The bubble signalling her he was writing appeared, then disappeared. Silje waited a moment. It did it again, and this time she huffed when the bubble went away. The third time she saw it, she began to type too.

Her phone buzzed at the exact moment she hit sent.

To/From Ivar: I miss you.

Her face grew hot even though there was no one to witness her embarrassment, and she couldn't do anything but stare at the identical messages. So, he did share her sleeping issues. She knew it shouldn't make her glad, but it did a little and she couldn't hold back a small, satisfied grin – he wasn't there to see it after all.

Knowing they both suffered from the distance between them was comforting in a way, and she was sure he felt the same.

From Ivar: The place they gave me is very nice, but it's not home.

Upon receiving this message, Silje's mood changed altogether. From smiling to herself she went to fighting back tears. Reading those words tore a hole in her chest and made her feel his absence in her bones. She missed him so much! What follies she would do to be able to see him again right now.

Home. He considered her place like his home, and this thought alone was overwhelming enough, but Silje had to add to it the agony of missing him like a lost limb.

To Ivar: It doesn't feel much like a home without you here.

From Ivar: Are you okay? Do you want me to call you?

If she concentrated a bit, Silje could hear Ivar say these words, she could hear the concern in his voice and see it in his eyes.

To Ivar: No, don't call. I'm fine, just sleep deprived and emotional. I might cry if I hear your voice.

This time his answer didn't come as quick, and she guessed he was trying to find something adequate to say. Maybe he too needed a moment to find the right words and not give in to the urge to get all sappy and romantic at this late hour where their brain functions were at their lowest. After two minutes or so the bubble came back.

From Ivar: I'm 20 min into the movie.

To Ivar: But you said you already cried twice??

From Ivar: I know, don't mention it.

Smiling, Silje grabbed her laptop off the floor and put it on the bed, quickly finding the movie and starting it at twenty minutes.

To Ivar: I'm all set.

Silje buried herself further under her duvet and snuggled her pillow, feeling a bit warmer and fuzzier than before now that she had some company in her loneliness – even if it wasn't what she craved at the moment, it was as much as she would get and she knew it. Knowing that Ivar was holding onto his phone and texting her in the middle of the night on a weekday, even if he was in another country, was comforting.

Her phone lit up again a minute later.

From Ivar: Have I told you I miss you a lot?

*

Silje stared at her macro-economics assignment with a deep frown on her face, and she was pretty sure that it glared back at her.

Life was going slow these days, as though she just hopped on a carriage after having driven a sports car for months. It was boring. Or maybe she was just done with university? True, she had thought that her classes would keep her busy enough to stop whining about Ivar's absence and how much she missed him – her friends were endlessly grateful for that – but it became harder and harder as time went by.

The truth was that Silje wasn't enjoying herself at all, and it worried her. She was a practical person, who put rational thinking ahead of her other impulses, then why did she feel more and more like she had wasted the last five years of her life doing something she didn't even like?

Anyone would say that no one really enjoys their job, they just have to have one if they want to afford the life they want. She could get behind that, but did it mean that she had to spend her entire life doing the same, boring activities every single day? It got her thinking. But what was more: Ivar told her something shortly before he left, and it had been on her mind ever since.

She had been rambling about Ava's new crush and how the girl always acted like the was the main character of a chick flick whenever she had a boy on her mind ; Ivar was sitting on the kitchen stool, watching her, listening quietly with a smile on his face, until she became self-conscious and asked him what he was looking at so intently.

“You,” he had said. “You're fascinating.”

It had made her heart jump in her chest and the pink rise to her cheeks.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she had denied, looking away now that she was hot in the face.

“But I think you do. You like telling stories. You're good with words, do you know that?” he had continued, grabbing a piece of red bell pepper and eating it.

“So what of it? Want me to become a bard and go from city to city to serenade pretty ladies in big hats?” she had teased him, slapping his hand away from the bowl of red pepper before he could grab another one. “Hands off, these are for dinner.”

“You should be doing something artistic,” he had suddenly blurted out. “I mean, I know you're good at what you do, but sometimes it looks like it's sucking the life out of you. You're always stressed out. I can imagine you studying literature, art, fashion, be at a cooking school, I don't know.”

She had bitten the inside of her cheek and pouted, pondering what Ivar said. He wasn't in the wrong, but she had her reasons for not going off to live the dream and move to Paris, to the left bank of the river Seine.

“These things don't pay, they are fantasy jobs,” she had argued, and Ivar grinned as if he had been expecting her to say that.

“Listen, I know it might sound rich, especially coming from me, but money isn't everything.” Silje had been about to reply but Ivar had kept talking before she got a chance to. “You need to do something that makes you happy and creating makes you happy, I know it. It's an outlet for the emotions you can't voice. You're just good at those things, you make things with love and it shows.”

To this, she didn't have a counter argument, and she still didn't.

Well done, Ivar. He had planted these words in her head and now they grew. There were little sprouts of “what if I dropped out and starting doing art?” growing in her mind. She had half a mind to fly all the way to Ireland only to grab Ivar by the shoulders and shake him like a tree for the way he had messed with her head.

Before he had said that, her life was perfectly clear: she had boring, practical skills that would land her a job at the end of her master's degree, and pay her bills. What else was there to ask? Who even thought about silly concepts such as professional fulfillment? Ivar, apparently.

“Damn you, Ivar!” she cursed him, throwing her pencil away, out of rage.

The fool was right, of course. And she needed to figure out what to do now.

The black cloud hovering over her head dissipated when a friendly hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“Hej!” she welcomed Ava.

Her friend smiled gently and sat down next to her in the library.

“What'd that pencil do to you?” she asked. Silje blinked when Ava placed said pencil on the table in front of her before taking out her laptop.

She had been sitting in the library for hours now, the sun was starting to set and the last rays hit Silje in her face through the blinds.

“Nothing,” she sighed and slumped back. “Just thinking 'bout Ivar.” She distractedly twirled the pencil around, not looking at Ava – she didn't need to, she knew her friend was rolling her eyes.

Bless Ava, she was the most patient friend in times of need. Though, everyone's tolerance to other people's whining had its limits, right? Ava reached hers six weeks and five days after Ivar's departure. Which was two days ago, when Silje called her on the phone while sniffling in front of a kids' movie, crying about how much she wished Ivar was here.

Even Silje knew she was pathetic; she needed to get a grip because soon, Ava would stop being nice, and start smacking heads.

“Colour me surprised,” she chuckled. “So tell me, what did dear Ivar do to get you so frustrated?”

“He told me to do what makes me happy.”

“Oh, I see. Very problematic. Can't imagine where that comes from,” Ava answered.

“Stop being sarcastic, I'm serious!” Silje groaned and shot her a look. “I hate this, I'm overthinking everything he told me because he's gone. Maybe I'm starting to lose it, that would explain it all.”

Ava's laptop made a soft powering up whirring noise while both girls sighed in unison. They had gone over this topic what felt like a hundred times.

“You're not crazy, you're in withdrawal. I don't know exactly how much time you spent with Ivar when you weren't with us, but you clearly don't know what to do with yourself now that he's away,” she stated.

Silje was a bit shocked by how accurate a description Ava made of the situation, and it brought to the forth something else that had been on her mind...

“About that,” she started, fiddling with the pencil now. Ava's eyes darted to the thing until Silje stopped and spoke again. “I think it's time I tell you how Ivar and I met.”

*

Quite frankly, it had been a bumpy conversation that lasted well past the library's closing hours and prevented any work from getting done that afternoon. It ended at the coffee shop round the corner, and Ava was practically buzzing both because of the amount of coffee she ingested and the shocking revelations Silje dropped on her.

Getting past the part where she had found Ivar, who was homeless, sleeping on a bench, and invited him, a homeless stranger, into her home for dinner and a night's sleep, was hard. Ava kept interrupting her and pointing out all the moments where Silje could have been killed if Ivar had been a psychopath.

Silje hadn't been drinking coffee, she was downing green tea by the liter to calm her nerves and stay open and understanding of her friend's reactions. Only when Silje mentioned Ivar's injury and his getting a job as soon as he was able to eased Ava's worries.

“You are insane. I take back what I said earlier, you've lost it, completely.” She finished her coffee. “I don't even know what to tell you now. I guess we're well past the part where I give you the “be careful” speech because he's just a stranger you picked up on the street. You guys are in a relationship, hell, you've been living together without me knowing! I am kinda mad about that, not gonna lie.”

“I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't approve!” Silje said to defend herself but realized too late that it was a bad point. “Well, I mean... I didn't really know what I was doing in the beginning, I hadn't planned on taking him as a roommate before he got beat up, and then he was there and I was stuck with a hot stranger on my couch, what did you want me to do? Throw away this chance to turn my life into a romance novel? That's how they all start!”

“You're always so down-to-earth, what happened?” Ava cried out in a hushed tone. “For Odin's sake, you sound like me, and it's not a compliment.”

“I get it, I do. But can we rather focus on the now? Everything worked out in the end, don't forget that,” Silje said, pointing her finger toward Ava who fought back the urge to jump over the table and strangle her friend. Silje saw that. “Please, don't be angry with me. I liked him, and once I had introduced him to you all, it became his secret to share.”

“What changed? Why are you telling me now?”

“Because... he's moved on from that now. It's in the past and no longer holding him back, at least I think so. He has a job, a place to live, he'll continue his master's soon. His life is on tracks now, and he can look back and laugh about the past, knowing he pulled through.”

Ava seemed to think about it. Her lashes fluttered a bit and she pursed her lips – a clear sign that she was conflicted. Silje kept quiet because she had been talking for the last three hours, her throat was on fire and she was sweating through her shirt. Was it the air in the coffee shop that was stifling or did Ava's approval matter more than she thought it did.

“You know-” she started slowly, probably for suspens. “I like Ivar. He's a good person, and he's so in love with you that it makes us sick,” she stated as if it was nothing. Silje's puzzlement was evident. “I suppose that I wouldn't have been so inclined to welcome him in our group, had I known his past, so I can't really blame you for hiding it from me. I can also understand that it wasn't your secret to share, I can respect that you wanted to let him come clean when the time was right. But he didn't.”

“Because it doesn't matter anymore.” Silje had jumped in to defend Ivar without thinking. “It's not who he is. It shouldn't define the way people look at him, and that's why neither of us said anything in the end – before now. And this should go without saying, but I'm trusting you to keep this to yourself.”

Now Ava looked very displeased.

“You can't drop this bomb on me to relieve yourself of the weight of your secret and then demand that I keep it for you!” She sounded positively scandalized and ready to storm off.

“You're my best friend, who the hell can I tell this if not you?” Silje replied, equally offended. “I knew you wouldn't be thrilled to hear about this, but I thought you'd understand.”

“I understand that you have lost your mind because of some pretty boy!”

Silje swallowed her comeback and started blankly at her friend. A poor friend, as it turned out. If her closed off expression said anything, Ava must have understood it. The conversation had come to an end and it was time to leave before either of them said words they would regret later.

It was deadly silent and the air had become cool between them when Silje grabbed her bag and stormed off.

She power walked back to her apartment and threw herself face-first on the sofa, screaming into a couch cushion until she felt better. Then she kicked off her shoes, stripped and went directly to bed because it was late already, and she did not want to get lost in her seething thoughts under the shower.

It was a restless night of tossing and turning and angrily crossing her arms over her chest while cursing Ava. Then she thought back to what Ivar told her and cursed him too, for being away and not holding her in his arms after she fought with her best friend, for not being there to talk about her doubts concerning university.

Fuck, now she was crying. She wiped away the tears with such force that her skin burnt under her eyes and she bit hard on her lower lip to calm herself. She had become such a mess in the last few weeks, she didn't recognize herself anymore. Where was the headstrong, independent woman she had grown into? Her parents would be ashamed of her behaviour. And Odin be damned, Ava was right, she had acted recklessly by letting a stranger into her home, she should have sent a safe message to all of her friends the second she invited Ivar into her apartment on julaften.

When she woke up the next day, her face was stiff because of the dried tears and she felt as awful as she looked. Today was Saturday, she had no business being up before noon, especially since she had come to the conclusion that her life was in complete disarray anyway – what was the point of being an early bird for the sake of it? To cease the day? Bullshit.

But a loud banging on her front door made her lift her head from her pillow. What was that now? Couldn't a girl have a breakdown without being interrupted?

“Go away!” she shouted, though whoever was outside her apartment couldn't possibly hear her weak protest through the closed door of her bedroom.

The banging didn't stop, and so Silje grumbled and crawled out of bed, wrapping herself in a robe and combing back her hair with her fingers. She nearly lost a hand amidst all the knots.

“What do you want?!” she asked as she swung the door open.

It was Ava, who looked tired and sorry.

“Hej. You look like death,” she said as a way of breaking the ice after their fight.

“Right back at you.”

“I thought I should rip off the bandaid sooner than later, so I came here to apologize,” she explained with her usual down-to-business voice that she used when she didn't want to get too emotional over something – like when she tried to explain the plot of Star Wars to someone who had never seen them without sounding like an absolute nerd.

“Apologies go well with freshly baked goods,” Silje pointed out, feeling merciless this morning – and hungry: she hadn't had breakfast yet.

Ava knew her well, and she quickly opened a bag to show she didn't come empty-handed. Silje nodded solemnly, granting her access to her home.

“You may enter.” She pushed the door wide open though she refused to smile until she extorted proper excuses from her friend. One should have a minimum of dignity.

“Please, Sil, don't be like that,” she whined.

It seemed that she understood just how badly she had hurt Silje with her hurtful words and obtuse thinking last night. Silje's arms were still crossed on her chest, to give herself countenance even though she wanted to hold Ava in her arms very badly and forget it all.

“I'm really sorry. I was so taken aback, I almost forgot to look at the bigger picture because I was worried about you. It doesn't justify anything, so I brought you this, to make amends...”

She pulled a folded sheet of paper out of her pocket and held it between her fingers until Silje deigned taking it to look at it.

When she did, her eyes widened.

“Go see your boyfriend, Silje. And by all that is holy on this earth, stop with the pity-party. I just want you to be happy, and he clearly does a damn good job of it, so... that's all I, or anyone else for that matter, needs to know about him.”

Silje threw her arms around Ava's shoulders, taking great care of not wrinkling the printed plane ticket in her hand.

*

If this wasn't the right building, she was truly lost. Her heels clacked on the pavement and the steady rumble of her suitcase' wheels followed her steps. She pushed the heavy oak double doors and walked in. It wasn't dark yet, so hopefully someone would still be there. This wouldn't have happened if her plane hadn't been delayed!

Now wasn't the time to complain though, he would soon be there. Her eyes searched for a sign and fell on a small golden plate on the wall to her left. “Secretary's office” it said. She followed it, happy to see there were arrows painted on the floor to help clueless people like her find their way.

One narrow door stood ajar and soft light came out of there. Gently, she knocked on the door.

“Come in!” A woman's voice called.

Silje pushed the door wide open and stepped in, feeling like she was in high school and being called in the principal's office all over again – it had been Nicolaj's fault, he dared her to sneak into the boys' locker room. Would there ever come a day she wouldn't feel shy and guilty when talking to a figure of authority?

“Hi! I'm sorry for bothering you. I'm a bit lost I think,” she said as way of introduction.

“You're not bothering me at all, dear, come on in,” she gestured her to sit down. “Where are you headed? You're not from around here, you have quite the accent,” she observed with a warm smile.

She seemed to be in her fifties, her hair was already getting gray in some areas and she wore thin glasses.

“I'm from Denmark,” Silje told her to satisfy her curiosity. “I'm actually here to surprise my boyfriend. He works here as a teacher assistant?” she explained, trying to get a reaction out of the woman that would indicate she was in the right place. “His name is Ivar Lothbrok, could you point me in the direction of his room?”

“Oh dear! I'm not allowed to let a stranger wander around school property sadly. You come a bit late.” She looked embarrassed and sorry for Silje. “It's the rules, I'm afraid.”

Silje's face fell. So much for the surprise then. She had pushed off calling Ivar directly because she wanted to surprise him, but nevermind.

“I understand.”

“Wait. What did you say his name is?” the woman asked, obviously feeling sympathetic for Silje who had flown all this way to see her beau. The young woman's face lit up again.

“Ivar Lothbrok. He works here part time as a history teacher assist. You must have noticed him if he's been around here: quite tall, brown hair, blue eyes,” she described. “He should be living on school grounds.”

“Oh I think it rings a bell, let me check in the system.”

The woman pushed her glasses further up her nose and typed on her old keyboard. She was swift and seemed to know exactly where to look. A little smile soon appeared on her face.

“Oh yes, I see,” she hummed to herself. “He does work here, so you're in the right place. However, I see here that he does indeed live on school property, which is why I still cannot let you go on your own. It is technically still a school day, and family and friends are only allowed on school grounds during the holidays, that is, starting tomorrow.”

Silje tried to follow her fast speaking rhythm – she wasn't used to speaking english that much, especially not the irish accent.

“The best I can do is try to call him,” she offered, ever so kindly. “It's the end of the day, he should be back in his quarters if we're in luck.”

“Thank you so much! That would be wonderful! Don't tell him that I'm here though,” Silje exclaimed gratefully.

She sent Silje a conniving smile and dialed the number. He seemed to pick up, which was a relief – she wasn't sure she could hang around here much longer – and the woman made quick work of it, asking him to come over because she needed him to sign a paper. Then she hung up, and Silje took a sharp intake of breath.

“There you go, sweetheart. It's the end of the day for me, so I'll be leaving too. You can wait on the bench outside the office.”

That was a dismissal if she ever saw one. But she nodded and gave her thanks again. This woman had stayed a little longer at her office to accommodate a total stranger who wanted to surprise her boyfriend. She was allowed to shoo Silje out now that her good deed was done.

A grand total of five minutes after the woman locked the office, Silje heard footsteps coming this way and stood up from the bench, her race racing uncharacteristically. It must be Ivar! Her palms became a little sticky and she was more flustered than she cared to admit seeing her boyfriend again. It had only been two months since they parted ways, but on the other hand, it had been two whole, long months that she spent thinking about seeing him again.

She barely had the time to rub her hands against her dress and give herself some countenance before the double doors swung open, and in strutted a nonchalant Ivar, both hands in his pockets, whistling to himself like he didn't have a care in the world. The hallway had been in the dark since Silje sat down because she hadn't moved at all, but as soon as Ivar arrived the automatic light turned on and revealed the presence to his left.

He stopped in his tracks, Silje saw surprise and a bit of disbelief in the way he looked at her and shook his head as if he thought he was having a hallucination, but then he smiled. She smiled back, and her heart leaped at the sight of him.

“Silje?" he asked, his voice fairly cautious but ecstatic still as he already took a first step towards her, a disbelieving smile plastered on his face.

Without saying anything Silje lunged forward and they met halfway, throwing their arms around each other and holding on. The rush of warmth and comfort that erupted inside her when she felt Ivar's arms engulf her in a hug was indescribable. With her head on his chest, Silje heard his chest rumble as he laughed – at least he seemed happy to see her, even if she popped out of nowhere without giving any warning.

“I can't believe you're here!” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple but not letting go yet, not even enough to give her a proper kiss.

For now, he just needed to hold her a bit – gods he had craved holding her again for weeks now! At any moment someone might walk in on them, but he couldn't care less, even if it was a student.

“You better start believing it,” she giggled, letting her hands fall down his back and onto his sides. She pulled back reluctantly; she wanted to see his eyes – and maybe his lips too. He smiled so wide and bright she was moved to tears. He really was happy to see her, and here she was worried she might arrive at a wrong time or mess up his holiday’s plans. “Kiss me like you missed me,” she told him.

Silje didn't need to say it twice, Ivar grabbed her face and crashed his lips against hers in a split second, all too happy to accommodate her. They both smiled like total fools in love in the kiss, but they couldn't care less about this somewhat awkward kiss. Silje's hand slid up to his neck and grabbed a fistful of his hair to hold onto and she pulled him down even more, pressing him harder against her lips, urging him to kiss her deeper.

Instead he broke their embrace and placed a quick, feather-like peck to the tip of her nose, startling her.

“I did miss you,” Ivar admitted, smiling fondly at Silje and her rosy cheeks. “Let's go to my place, shall we? We can't be caught making out at my workplace,” he reminded her.

A little laugh fell from Silje's lips when she realized she got carried away so quickly after seeing him again.

“Well at least you won't be able to say I wasn't glad to see you again,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly and turning around to go grab her luggage.

Ivar laughed, shaking his head – he had missed her antics and little innuendos – and he followed her, carried the duffel bag while Silje dragged the small suitcase behind her, and together they made their way to his apartment.

“I wanted to come knock on your door directly but the woman behind the desk said I couldn't go there because it was on school property,” Silje said when they approached a big Victorian-looking building with an impressive number of windows and giant wooden double doors through which an elephant could no doubt fit.

“Yeah they actually gave me the building’s superintendent’s’ apartment, he retired last year so I'm getting his place – and his job too, I have to make sure the doors are locked after a certain hour and signal it to the administration if students sneak out,” he explained, holding the left door open to let Silje through.

“Which happens often?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed. “You'd be surprised how creative these little shits can get when a night at the pub is at stake.” He rolled his eyes and lead her to a door at the back of the hallway, almost hidden behind the main stairway. “Here we are. Me casa es tu casa, you know the drill,” he told her.

Ivar unlocked the door but let Silje step in first, closing behind her and turning on the lights. He sucked in a breath and held it without really thinking about it while Silje silently took in her surroundings, looking around her.

The place was bigger than her tiny student apartment in Copenhagen, and much less stuffed with various unnecessary things such as the unreasonable number of blankets she owns, or the piles of books covering every single square inch of horizontal surface. It felt a little more... empty, but it was nice, clean, and it was Ivar's.

For a week in her life, Silje would be living at Ivar's place, and that was strange in an upside-down kind of way, but also thrilling. She wasn't sure how she should behave because so far, she had been the one 'at home', and for the first time she realized how odd it must have been for Ivar to spend all this time living under a roof that wasn't his, sleeping on a couch, and basically squatting someone else's place.

Now she understood with full force why he needed to leave Denmark, why he needed independence so badly. A tinge of guilt tugged at her heart when she remembered the way she first reacted to his news about leaving.

“I haven't really taken the time to make it mine yet,” Ivar said behind her when the tension became too much for him to handle. This silence was too thick. “I meant to decorate a bit, but I just never got around to it.”

The bare walls and nearly empty shelves did scream 'a man lives here' to Silje, which made her smile. The whole place looked rather old – not in a crumbling way, just as in a historic way. This was an old building and the inside reflected the outside. The walls were a dull shade of forest green, and every piece of furniture apart from the kitchen corner was in dark wood.

“What do you think?”

“I think you miss the Scandinavian minimalistic aesthetic,” Silje teased him, nudging him after they dropped her luggage. “You know, as long as there's a little room for me in your life, I don't really care what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah, I dare hope so, because it was a proper mess when we met,” he reminded her.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and lead her to the back, towards two closed doors. The house tour didn't last long. Ivar opened the doors to show her where the bathroom was, then the bedroom, and that's when Silje decided the tour was over.

She pushed him inside and told him she needed to take a closer look at the bed, because she couldn't possibly form an opinion without trying it out.

*

Ivar's phone lit up next to them for the third time in a row, making them both sigh. Silje sat upright and climbed off Ivar to go grab it and have a look at who was continuously interrupting their activities. He saw her frown at his phone, which had him on his feet faster that the speed of light.

“What does 'hey man, how's she cuttin'? Don't forget we going out on the lash and mottin' with the lads tonight' mean?” she asked slowly, as if she were reading an obscure foreign language, her brows still knitted together in complete and utter confusion.

Ivar's groan, followed by a chuckle made her turn around, cocking a brow at him while waiting for a translation.

“I completely forgot I agreed to go pub crawling with my friends tonight,” he told her, rubbing his face.

Silje had been here for four days now, and to be frank, Ivar and her and done nothing but walk around town hand in hand, get lost in each other's gaze to the point where they didn't hear the voice of the waiter at the restaurant they were at, and then went back to his place to undress each other with more than their eyes.

He had tried to show her around, had taken her to museums, bookshops and fun attractions, but nothing in the world appealed more to Silje than her dear, handsome boyfriend, and so they clung to one another like their life depended on it, not caring what other people thought of their public displays of affection.

Today, Ivar had insisted on taking her outside of the city and into the gree nature of Ireland. She knew him well and expect as much, which is why she came with adequate shoes for climbing around muddy hills and sharp rocks. They were tired and sore, but not too tired and sore to end the day with a bang. However, the thought of having to go out again really didn't sound appealing anymore, especially now that Silje was here, half naked, and Ivar had a semi-hard on from their heated make out session on his bed.

“I still don't understand anything that's in this message,” she told him, handing him his phone so he could answer.

“It's dumbass for 'hey, what's up? Don't forget we're going drinking tonight',” he explained. “And mottin' means women chasing. Cillian is feeling lonely these days,” he laughed when Silje sent him a nasty glare at the mention of their planned activity. “I'll tell them I can't come.”

Ivar was already typing when Silje snatched the phone from his hand.

“You can go,” she said. “You don't need to babysit me, I'll just read a book or watch a movie while you're out.”

She had taken up so much of his free time already, she wouldn't deny him a night out with his guy friends – the Norns know boys need their boyfriends.

“Nonsense!" he retrieved his phone. “Either I cancel, or you join us,” Ivar said, his tone final.

“But I don't know them, and you had plans. I don't want to intrude on your boys' night or whatever these are called,” she insisted. “Also, it's rude to cancel plans last minute.”

Ivar couldn't hold back his smile when she gave him that motherly glare that meant he had to stick to his engagements.

“Alright, then you're coming.”

“Ivar...” Silje started with a deep sigh.

“No, no, no you need to come. They need to see you're a real person and that I haven't made you up,” Ivar argued, holding onto Silje's hand to pull her towards him. Silje's eyebrow rose at that, an expression of confusion and amusement painted on her face.

“Your friends think you have an imaginary girlfriend?” Silje laughed when Ivar nodded. She pondered the thought for a short moment, leaving Ivar in waiting. “Well, then I guess I have to come.”

*

Needless to say, they didn't make a quiet entrance. The moment Ivar stepped through the front door of their pub of choice, tailed by Silje who looked around in fascination, taking in her surroundings, a round a disbelieving cheers greeted them. Three boys around their age stood up and raised their glasses, so Silje assumed these were Ivar's friends. By the gods, what have I agreed to?

Ivar did head towards the merry group, and he greeted each one of them while she stayed back, waiting for her turn. She was fascinated by everything around her. It struck her that the place was already filled to the brim with jul decorations, while also having a few pumpkins, glow-in-the-dark skulls and spider webs here and there for Samhain next week.

“Ivar, man! Ya boyo, why have'na told us ya were comin' with such a fine thing?” one of them said, and although the sentence was dotted with words Silje didn't quite catch, she did understand he thought her pretty.

“Shame on ya, Ivar! Don't ya have a mot back home?” another one said, shaking his head in disappointed. Ivar was just about to protest and introduce her when the last one spoke up.

“Shrupp, ya dickbrains, can't ya see the lady's awaitin'?” The third one told them off and stood up to greet Silje.

All three spoke with heavy accents, rolling their r's and using slang Silje had never heard before. Ivar caught her glancing at him for help, looking thoroughly lost. She ended up opting for attack as the best defence, before Ivar had a chance to step in and translate for her.

“Hi, I'm Silje. I'm gonna assume Ivar told you about me?” her Danish accent was a bit heavier than Ivar's.

One of the boys at the table clutched his chest and exclaimed, “I'm in love!”

“Told us? It's hard to make him shut up!” the other one declared dramatically, raising his pint to Ivar who glared at him.

“I'm Dean,” the one who had stood up introduced himself, and Silje shook his hand. “The love sick fool ove' there is Cillian, and that's Caleb.” Each of them waved their hand at her when Dean mentioned their name and Silje returned the gesture with a little smile.

“So you didn'a makeup that story, eh?” Cillian teased Ivar, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Havin' ya girl fly all the way heyar just to prove us wrong is a bit much, innit?” Caleb added.

“Well, you didn't give me much of a choice, now did you?” Ivar snapped back good naturedly shoving his friend in the shoulder.

Dean gestured Silje to sit on the bench next to her boyfriend before he sat down himself.

“Ivar told me I was quite the cryptid around here, so I jumped on the first flight to make a surprise appearance at the pub and freak out the locals,” Silje said, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. Now that she was here she had to make the best of it, and not shrink back on herself while the boys chatted the night away.

“'tis a good thing ya came, ya fella wouldn'a take that puss off his face because he missed ya so,” Dean told her, nudging her gently.

She stared at him with big eyes, then turned to Ivar who wore an amused expression. But he was once again interrupted before he could even start speaking.

“He's telling ya your man missed the heck outta ya, girl!” Caleb said. “Ivar wouldn'a stop sulking and rambling about his amazing girlfriend,” he added with a grin that showed he was quite satisfied with himself for having both supplied Silje with a translation and having made Ivar blush.

“Alright, it was nice seeing you guys, we'll go now,” Ivar declared but Dean sat steady and didn't let him and Silje get up.

“Don't get ye knickers in a twist, man! We're just teasin'. Ya brought us a pretty lash, we're intimidated,” Dean tried to calm him down.

Their exchange made Silje smile, and she rid herself of her coat to get more comfortable.

“De fortæller mig ikke noget, jeg ved ikke allerede1,” Silje told Ivar, placing a hand on his arm. Her words seemed to have an effect on him, though his friends had no idea what she said, Ivar ended up nodding and shrugging off his jacket too.

“It's like she's speaking magic words,” Cillian told the others upon seeing Ivar's annoyance melt like snow in the sun.

“Kan du se hvad du har rodet os ind i ? Fortryder du det ikke?2” he asked her back, if only to bother his friends who didn't understand a single word of Danish – thank the gods for that by the way.

“Nej det gør jeg ikke,3” Silje answer with a triumphant smile. “Should we get drinks?”

Her question woke the others from their fascinated gawking at the couple speaking foreign words to each other and made them snap back to reality. Ever so reactive, Dean raised a hand to call for a waitress from their corner table. The place was packed with people – they chose a Friday night of all days to go out.

Soon as the waitress was there Cillian raised a hand.

“Five pints of brown beer, lovely,” he told her, making the girl smile.

“Oh wait!” Silje called her before she could scurry off to get their drinks. “Make it three pints and two glasses of white wine.”

The girl took note of the change of order and ran off.

“Christ, Ivar! Your mot been heyra for a couple hours and she's leading ya by the nose already! Ordering fancy drinks, eh?” Caleb teased before downing the remaining of his beer to make way for the next one.

Silje blinked in slight confusion. She was leaning on the table with both elbows when she looked at Ivar, waiting for an explanation. He merely shrugged, but he was mistaken if he thought she was going to drop it and make it easy for him. He wanted her to tag along, he would have to own up to it.

“Why Ivar, haven't you told your friends you don't like beer?”

Her question was followed by a round of choked up screeches and a variety of downright offended protests. Meanwhile Ivar closed his eyes and groaned, causing Silje's devious grin to widen even more.

“We're in Ireland Sil, I wouldn't have made any friends if I didn't drink beer,” he grunted unhappily.

Silje nodded. It made sense of course, but she couldn't pass up such an opportunity to tease him in front of his friends. It was usually the other way around since they spent a lot of time with her own friends.

She gave him a gentle smile and pushed a strand of his hair out of his face, effectively making the three boys at the table stop rambling about the beer thing, and start poking at Ivar for being such a sap when his girlfriend was here. He didn't pay attention to them, and instead chose to enjoy the moment. For weeks now, he hadn't had a moment like this, he could only dream of it. To have Silje sitting next to him for a drink, and not halfway across the world, should be something to appreciate to the full, regardless of the presence of his merry group of idiotic friends.

“Jeg kan ikke vente til jeg har dig for mig selv resten af ugen,4” he whispered in her ear, making all three of his friends lean towards them in hopes to catch something even though it was all Chinese to them.

Throughout the evening, whenever Ivar said something only meant for Silje he switched back to Danish both because she wasn't as comfortable speaking English as he was – especially the local slang that was difficult to grasp -, and because it was more private. His friends looked confused as all hell at first but after hearing the tone of their voice and seeing them smile at each other, Cillian came up with a theory.

“Ah, I see! You're speaking that silly language of yours to talk dirty in public! I get it.”

Silje and Ivar both frowned and shared a glance.

“Man, that's not at all what's happening,” Ivar told him.

“Yeah, right,” his friend replied, giving them both a conniving wink as though he was now in on a secret.

“Don't mind him. Han er lidt dum5,” Ivar told Silje, making her chuckle in her glass.

The pub crawl was adjourned due to Silje's presence – not cancelled, never cancelled – and they decided to spend the night here instead. The place became even more crowded if that was possible, to the point where it was impossible to call for the waitress. All the staff was behind the bar, pouring drink after drink.

Silje volunteered to go get their next round of drinks and went to the bar. She hopped on a stool when one became available while she waiting her turn, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the sticky counter top. The waitress from earlier spotted her and yelled over the noise to ask her if she wanted the same. Silje nodded and smiled at the girl.

There weren't many girls here tonight from what she could see. But there sure were a lot of inebriated men, as proven by the one trouble maker who elbowed his way towards her until he was leaning against the counter right next to her. Silje leaned in the other direction ever so slightly.

“What's a ride like ya doin' alone?" he slurred, giving her a once over in an obvious manner, which suggested he meant it as some sort of compliment.

She scrunched up her nose and pretended she didn't hear him over the noise, hoping he would take the hint and go away – though she was positive he wouldn't take a hint smaller than her fist in his face. Maybe she should just do that from now on – hit first and talk later. A thought to ponder.

Silje wasn't one to complain about slow service in any kind of place, be it a pub or a fancy restaurant, but these drinks sure took their sweet time to get to her. All the while the drunk guy attempted to flirt with her with as much subtleness as an elephant in a china shop. How much longer now?

From the other side of the room, Ivar stretched his neck to see where Silje was with their drinks – Caleb grew nasty when he didn't have a cold one in his hand – and what he saw made his jaw clench. Seeing that beefy dude drool over his girlfriend made him glare holes in the back of his head and he stopped listening to the story Dean was telling him altogether.

She said something then, but the gods have mercy it only seemed to entice the guy even more, though she wore her disgust like a pearl necklace and shot him annoyed glances.

He felt his hand tighten its grip on his empty glass. He wished he could read lips because there was no hearing what they were saying over the ambient chatter, and he didn't want to cause a scene for nothing even if he really wanted to get up and teach this asshole some manners. Ivar was left breathless by the force of his urge to mark his territory. Silje would flick his forehead if he ever voiced his instincts.

“Hey man, your mot in trouble?” Dean asked, finally taking notice of Ivar's change of mood and following his gaze. “That chump acting the maggot. Go get her.”

Silje exchanged a few more words with the stranger, no smile in sight as she pulled away slightly when he scooted closer. Then she turned towards the table and pointed right at Ivar. Good. This fucker needed to know she was taken. Happily taken. Now he better back off or the gods have mercy on him because Ivar won't.

He was ready to storm across the room at the slightest hint of distress on Silje's face. But when Silje saw the look of rage on her boyfriend's face her expression softened a bit and she raised her palm discreetly. He blinked, then looked back at his friends and dropped the frown on his face, forcing his rage down.

“Nah. S'all good. She can handle herself,” he told his friends to their utter bewilderment.

A second ago he looked like he was ready to stab the guy in the throat and now he acted like it didn't even bother him to see his girlfriend being hit on. He stared a little harder than he normally would at his empty glass and couldn't help glancing towards the bar every other ten seconds, but he calmed down.

This was her sign. The little hand gesture. He knew it meant she had things under control. He didn't need to come to her rescue - even if he damn well felt entitled to and it itched him greatly to sucker punch this idiot. He trusted her, Silje wasn't overconfident in her skills or reckless at all. If she sensed actual danger coming from this guy, she would call him. After another while of tense silence between the guys where everyone was staring at the exchange except Ivar who glared at his glass like it was guilty of something, his suffering came to an end.

His back muscles relaxed as soon as he felt her familiar gentle hand on his shoulder. She laughed when she felt him literally melt under her touch. She expertly set down the plate of drinks she held with one hand, and joined Ivar on the seat bench, pressing into his side and snuggling him a bit despite the very public space to reassure him.

“Good thing you got rid of that wanker,” one of Ivar's friends chuckled in his glass. “Ivar was about to pop a vein.”

“I would have popped his head like a champagne bottle,” Ivar countered, scowling and leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I know you would have, but I like to try solving situations my way before letting you maim anyone who dares look at me.”

“This is about that guy at the park this summer,” Ivar groaned and rubbed his face. “I thought we wouldn't bring it up again.”

This triggered his friends to ask a lot of questions what exactly went down last summer at the park, and Silje happily obliged them and told the whole story, much to Ivar's despair. It wasn't even his fault; the other guy had started it.

The gang and them were out for the day, enjoying the sun. And some dude at the park kept losing his ball while playing volleyball with his friends and it somehow always ended up at Silje's feet. Ivar's patience ran out after the fifth time and he threw the ball back full force. It hit the guy in the face so hard it sent him stumbling backwards and falling on his butt. Their friends laughed but Silje didn't.

She finished her story with a fond smile on her lips, looking at Ivar with such whole-hearted tenderness that it melted the frown right off his face. She leaned back into him.

“Next time a guy hits on me I'll punch him in the face, promise,” she whispered to in his ear. Then she grabbed her glass and the boys carried on their conversation like nothing happened. “Oh look, they have-” Silje stopped and visibly searched for a word, snapping her fingers as if to summon it. “Ivar, hvad hedder dartspil på engelsk?" she finally gave in, turning to her boyfriend.

“A dart game,” he provided, and Silje snapped her fingers again, this time in victory.

“Yes! A dart game. Let's play darts,” she said, waiting to see if the boys would agree to her challenge.

“I can't accept, it would break me heart to crush ya at a game,” sighed Cillian as if it was a sacrifice on his part in the name of chivalry.

“Can't hand their asses to pretty girls like ye,” Dean agreed with his friend, drinking the last of his beer and chuckling to himself while Ivar's grin grew wider and wider. Silje saw it and smirked a little.

“If you're scared of losing it's alright, I understand you don't want to lose to a girl in public,” Silje said nonchalantly, knowing that they wouldn't be able to let slide this blow to their ego. Boys were so terribly easy to manipulate, it was a wonder the human race survived so long.

As expected from a bunch of young men slightly drunk off beer, they all immediately puffed out their chest and stood up, accepting her open challenge while claiming they wouldn't be held responsible for her crushing defeat. Only Caleb seemed to sense there it wasn't a good idea and remained by Ivar's side.

Ivar leaned back and kept smiling to himself like an all-knowing Cheshire Cat. He followed Silje but declined the invitation to participate – he knew better.

“No mercy, Sil,” he told her with a wink. “I'm going to sit this one out and enjoy the show.”

The two of them watched Silje slowly but surely crush Dean and Cillian's self-confidence with each dart she threw exactly where she intended. The two boys lost their mind – along with a fair amount of people who watched the game, one beer in hand, placing bets – and quickly understood their mistake. That's what they get for underestimating girls.

Silje never lost her grin and she scored more and more points.

“Ivar, ya jammy client6,” Caleb mumbled in his beer, nudging Ivar in the ribs to get his attention.

He had been entranced by Silje's gleeful smile and lethal aim. Yeah, he sure was the luckiest man alive.

*

It was already time to say goodbye and they both hated it though they knew it was coming. The wind was blowing strong, the sun wasn't even up yet, it was dark and cold and yet neither of them wore gloves because they needed that skin-to-skin contact just a while longer.

Soon, they would be able to wear gloves again as they wouldn't see each other until jul. At least this time, it wasn't a vague goodbye with no idea when they would meet again. Ava's part in their little reunion was much, much appreciated and Ivar would need to thank her, but they had arranged their next meeting ahead of time this time.

No surprise visit, no wandering about on school property to find the right building; Ivar would go two hours early to the airport and wait for Silje with a cheesy note written on a poster that he'd hold very high for her to spot from a distance once she had collected her luggage. She was going to hate it, he thought, amused.

“The bus is coming,” she said, spotting the headlights coming round the corner of the street.

She squeezed Ivar's hand and turned to him, her eyes glowing under the streetlight and looking a bit too glossy for Ivar's liking. If she so much as shed a tear, he wasn't going to let her leave. He didn't care about the consequences, he would pull a proper kidnapping and keep her all to himself, screw Denmark.

“I wish I could come with you,” he said, cradling her face and kissing her softly. Their lips were still swollen from all the kisses they exchanged these last few hours. One would think they were never going to see each other again instead of parting for roughly two months.

Ivar couldn't escort Silje to the airport because he was working today, bright and early; he could only walk her to the nearest bus station and wave her goodbye until she was out of sight.

The bus stopped and the doors opened: it was time.

“Jeg vil savne dig7,” Silje whispered before leaving.

“Jeg elsker dig8,” he answered.

Right before the doors closed on her, he stole one last kiss and felt her smile against his lips.

TRANSLATIONS

1They aren't telling me anything I don't already know.

2See what you got us into? Any regrets yet?

3No, I don't.

4I can't wait to have you all to myself for the rest of the week.

5He's a little dumb.

6Lucky bastard

7 I'll miss you.

8 I love you.

  @teenagephilosophersandwich

@marco-hvittyvik

@kenzieam

@captstefanbrandt

@kimskew

@aduncanzombie

@admerxin13

@meikolia

@vikingsmania

@dina-m16

@thinemineours

@didiintheblog

@mblaqgi

@thedorkcitycentral

@hallowed-heathen

[bambyeol]

Radio FM (For me.) (final)

disclaimer : i can’t link the first part because Tumblr removes my fic from the searches if I link the first part ughsduashdihidas 

pairing/s: DJ Jaehwan ! x OC  

genre: angst, fluff , song-fic 

summary: DJ Jaehwan composes a song for a heartbroken listener not knowing he was the one who broke her heart.

“That was the greatest show yet. People never run out of heart-fluttering stories to tell, don’t they?” Jaehwan raved, still basking in the energy he said the show gave him. Agreeing with his previous statement and acknowledging his efforts, you nod.

“Thank you, Yeonrin.” he said in such an endearing tone as you two waited for the elevator to bring you down to the ground floor.

“You can stop thanking me, Jaehwan. You know I needed you too.”

Jaehwan gave you an exaggerated look as though he was unspeakably flattered. You wanted to hit him in the head playfully but decided against it, knowing that the simple gesture will open up gates and bring back feelings which were otherwise already thrown away. But were they really? Why does your heart keep beating this fast, then?

At a nearby convenience store, you both decided to stop for a drink before walking to the subway station on the way home, a routine that the two of you naturally got into.

“So..Jaehwan. You and Gayoung.” Trying to sound as casual as you can, as though this was simply a talk over a drink with a friend, you asked him.  “How did things go?”

“Still going. Can you believe it?” Jaehwan took a sip from his drink and giggled. “It’s been a full decade.”

You just smiled and listened to the rest of his stories with staged interest. Them going to the same university. Graduating together. Finding jobs as close as possible to one another and finally, what hit you the hardest, them finally moving into their own quaint apartment. “It’s small,” he says. “But it’s our own and it’s perfect.”

A perfect home for their perfect love story.

And here you were -  the shattered bystander.

The past week’s episodes were filled with first love stories, fluttering proposals, touching reunions. Not a single heartbreak story ever since he started the show. You thought this was quite odd. Where in the world were the other people who had their hearts broken like you did?

And then an idea crossed your mind. One that had more of a personal motive. Your mind has been tugging at you ever since you met Jaehwan again. Was it that you wanted him to know your side of a decade-old tale? However futile the effort may be? Or was it because, seeing him again, you thought it was the sign of another chance?

None of this matters.

At least, you’ll finally have a song especially written for you. At least, it was by him.

---

“He was a high school acquaintance who had a passion for music like no other person I knew at the time. We did not know each other until senior year came along and even then, we didn’t have the most pleasant of first meetings. But eventually, I found myself admiring his talent and his determination. We talked sporadically throughout the year, bonding over his songs and music in general. Right when I thought he felt the same way about me, he confessed to a girl. With my favorite song of his.”

The office floor was dark and silent except for a desk lamp shedding its yellowish glow on the far corner of the room and the sound of you typing away inside your cubicle. As is common when you had some extra work to accomplish, you stayed back, asking Jaehwan not to wait up for you as he had to do his own preparations for the next day’s show.

You read your entry again and again, making sure it was exactly at the line between vague and excessively specific. Despite wanting to get your message to him, you weren’t exactly sure if it would be to your convenience that he knew it was from you. You simply wanted to hear from him since your connection, if it could even be called a connection, was so abruptly interrupted.

The block of text stayed in your screen for what seemed like ages as you swiveled in your office chair again and again, as if the continuous turning would help you muster the courage to click the button.

And though it felt ridiculous, feeding audience content to your own show, you clicked send and shut your laptop without second thoughts.

----

Jaehwan entered the broadcast room the following evening with his forehead creased in deep thought. Right then and there, you thought he figured you out. But when you asked him why he came in looking like he had the world on his shoulders….

“I’m just internalizing. The story today is quite...heartbreaking, for once.” So he did read it, and he actually chose it. Although, there were no signs of suspicion in his features.

Quite heartbreaking. An understatement. In your case, anyways.

You heaved a sigh, but whether it was a sigh of relief or a sigh to brace yourself for what was to come, you had no clue.

“Yeonrin, 2 minutes.” a colleague got your attention and you sat down in your chair, trying to pull your mind back to work.

“Jaehwan-ah, all set?”

“Yep.” he pulled in his chair, positioning his face directly in front of the mic.

Within the two minutes before the start of the show, he went through the mental list he had: the lyrics he wrote, the chords of the song, and the advice he wanted to give. Contrary to what you thought, that moment ten years ago did cross his mind by the time he finished reading the entry. However, he simply acknowledged the similarities between the confession and nothing else. He never considered that his own confession resulted in the heartbreak of another.

“Our story today is a bit different from the content of the past week. A love that was stopped by a sudden confession. You listeners may be wondering ‘Huh? But confessions usually start up a relationship, don’t they?’” He started, putting on a silly voice which was supposed to mimic the audience.

You almost laugh as he struggled to keep the atmosphere appropriate to today’s story. Kim Jaehwan’s antics can be really out of place.

“That’s not wrong, dear listeners. But the said confession, sadly, was not directed to our letter sender. Yes, the hidden love that blossomed in her heart was not returned. And she witnessed someone she loved confess to someone else.”

He proceeded by reading the very words you wrote the night before, and it seemed like you were back in that cramped and humid broadcasting room on that last day as he uttered your story from his own mouth.

“Before I sing for this sender tonight, let me give my two cents. It is possible that you invalidated your feelings after such confession happened. But you had every right to those feelings, being human. Do not despise yourself for hanging onto them. But now, time has passed and both of you have your own stories to write. Acceptance will come with time and distance.”

And with that, he introduced his song, started strumming his guitar, inducing a melancholic tune.

Park Ji Min - Hopeless Love

I know there’s no hope, so every time I look at you It’s so hard, because I love you so much It hurts so much when you say I’m just a friend I’m standing outside the line that I can’t ever cross

It hurts but why can’t I turn away? This hopeless love In your eyes that look at me, there aren’t any feelings that are like mine It’s such a sad thing to know your heart

He finished the song and for a few seconds there was a resounding silence inside the broadcast room, all of the employees, bosses and assistants alike, had expressions as if their own hearts were touched by the music they just heard.

Jaehwan looked up from inside the booth and you stood up and moved your chair so that your back was to him. You had no assurance that your face did not completely mirror your heart.

Soft applause finally filled the room and Jaehwan wrapped up the show with his signature closing credits as you were left to organize the thoughts running through your head while pretending to be occupied by the control buttons.

Acceptance, time, distance. You’ve got the latter two taken care of, what with you having been away from him for a decade. But acceptance.

It felt hopeless.

---

It felt like the world was mocking your plea for closure, a stab to your desperation when Jaehwan’s song for you, “the anonymous sender”, became a big hit, ranking number 1 in the most-searched on Naver and opening up petitions for a complete song.

Several agencies winded up getting interested, sending their offers to Jaehwan to be under their label to which he dutifully declined, opting to use the radio station instead as means of publishing the full version.

“Why’d you reject the offers?”

“Oh. It would be better if it would be under the radio station still. Besides, I don’t want to make money out of someone’s heartache. That song was for her alone.”

“Oh.” you remain silent, pondering on his words, heart beating rapidly uncontrollably. You tuck stray hair behind your ear, “I’m sure she agrees.”

You look up. For sure, if Jaehwan just met your eyes then, he’d know. You were willing to let it slip, to finally come undone, to lay down the secrets you kept for 10 years.

Even if it meant a rejection was on-hand.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he busily rummages in his bag until he grabs a hold of a thin white envelope. A little too fancy, with the embossed gold patterns, and the emboldened letters.

You are invited to…

“Right. I’m sorry what were you saying again?” Jaehwan faces you, the white envelope bound to be passed to your now opened palms.

You didn’t know when you unfurled your palms as if you were expecting it.  You shake your head before staring at the envelope.

“No. It’s nothing…”

“I wanted to invite you,” he starts. Every word after that became heavier. It was like quicksand - the more you tried to move, the more you sunk into that feeling of helplessness.

“We’re going to get married. I mean.. I wanted us to get married first before we moved together, but being a musician was tough. But now, with my job and how the show’s a success, there’s nothing hindering us anymore.” he swung his arms animatedly, a mixture of embarrassment, joy and most of all endearment.

“Really. You always save me, Yeonrin. More than being my guardian angel. The more I think about it, you’re our guardian angel.” That was the finishing blow. Your heart was crushed completely, tears just a word away from spilling.You look down, regretting sending your story for the first time.

“That’s why, I’ll really appreciate it if you will come. You’re someone special to us. “

But I wanted to be the one special for you. You thought grimly.

“I can’t.” you reply immediately even before you could form a tactful rejection to the invitation. “Ah. I mean…”  you scramble for a reply, and a stray tear falls across your cheek.  You wipe it off immediately hoping Jaehwan wouldn’t have caught it, but he did and he reached for your wrist in concern.

“Yeonrin?” he asks softly. You swat  him away, retreating into a fetal position and the tears didn’t stop. He bends down, rubbing your back though unsure why you suddenly bursted.

Kim Jaehwan always can’t read the atmosphere for the love of God.

“I’m sorry,” you croak.  “I can’t.”

“No. No. It’s totally okay. I mean, you don’t need to come if you can’t,” a flustered Jaehwan replies still missing the mark.

With one deep breath, you momentarily pause the tears on your eyes.  “I can’t wish you happiness, Jaehwan.” You half-smile.

“Not back then, and definitely not now. I’ve always.” your arms folded atop her knees. “I’ve always, really, loved you.” you confess.

He freezes, “How long?” It was the only thing he could form despite the multiple questions rounding up his mind.

“Senior year.” you reply curtly, sniffling.

“Why didn’t you..” his question was left hanging, but you understood

You laugh mirthlessly, “How could I? When you beat me to it and confessed to Gayoung. I really thought that you liked me too. I guess that what we were was just confined in that broadcasting room. Similar to what we are now.”

“I sent that story.” you open up. “The one whose song became a hit, but even until now, all that I am is just a guardian angel. A person who leads you to where you wanted to be. “

His lips were pressed into a thin line. It hurt him that you endured everything, but he knew where his heart laid.

It will never be with you.

“I’m sorry.” he concludes

You nod understandingly.

“Thank you.” you bite your lips and muster up a smile. “It may have taken 10 years, but you finally sang for me.”

He nods, hands delicately removing his touch from your back until it’s beside him again.

--

Although many have requested for a full version of the song, Jaehwan did not sing it anymore and it was soon forgotten.

On the night of his wedding, you received an anonymous email with an mp3 file attached.

To my guardian angel...

-fin-

a/n : i will never be not sad over this fic :< my friend and I long completed this fic and I just really forgot to update it. I”M SO SORRY BUT THIS IS ALSO HARD TO READ FOR ME WITH THE HEARTBREAK. wanna one is disbanding soon also :< i’ll miss them dearly but writing for them has been such a gift. I remember typing in the middle of the night, fueled by their songs (and Day6 of course) . I wish to continue writing for them before they disband, but in the case that I won’t be able too, this mini author’s note will serve as a thank you for all the readers who read my fics. For all your support, and for all your patience as I continually break my promise of “i’ll post it soon” . Thank you for staying ;-; . Thank you for all your kind words. It’s been a great pleasure to write for you all.

[coldphoenixcreations]

Gift - Keepsakes

A/N:- Just a little idea I thought of a while ago… I know you were feeling down today Blue so I thought this might cheer you up… hopefully lol 😅 Basically a little post-Frieza’s death scene between @bluejettyy’s OC Tundra and my OC Glacia. I hope you like it!

xxxxx

Tundra slowly walked upon the marble floor, awkwardly, and timidly… it had been a while since he’d been here. He hadn’t come to Frieza’s home often; it was reserved for his wife and son… his lovers had no business being here. But… Tundra had come here, a few times. He’d been special. Or at least… he’d felt special. But then… Frieza had probably made all his lovers feel special. Was Tundra special at all…? He’d been in this palace a couple of times, when Glacia and Kuriza were away. He’d slept in Frieza’s bed… not the bed he shared with Glacia, though. Just… one of the guest rooms. But it had felt real, and special. … Like they were married. Hehe. That was stupid…

Tundra stepped into one of the reception rooms, and was greeted by Glacia’s polite smile. He kind of liked Glacia… they’d sort of been friends. Tundra had worked for Frieza as well, so he’d naturally come across Frieza’s wife from time to time. She knew all about his relationship with her husband – actually Tundra had always felt like he was her favourite out of all of Frieza’s lovers. She was always nice to him… “Tundra.” Glacia stood up, and moved closer to him, outstretching her arms. “How nice to see you.” She gave him a polite hug, and smiled. She looked good, that was the first thing Tundra noticed. Glacia always looked so well-presented and groomed, but… normally she had a cold face. She was polite and friendly, and she smiled all the time, but it was always fake. Now, though… she seemed genuinely happy. She hadn’t liked Frieza much… being a widow obviously suited her… “Y-You too…” Tundra uttered awkwardly. “Please – have a seat, darling. Would you like a drink?” Glacia sat herself down, and picked up her wine. “No… thank you.” Tundra said, sitting down. He cleared his throat, and looked at her. “Um… why am I here?” He gasped slightly, catching himself. That sounded rude. “Sorry, I mean – … is everything alright, Glacia?” “What?” Glacia smirked. “Just because he’s dead we can’t still be friends?” “… It’s been six months.” Tundra answered. “I haven’t seen you…” It was true, he hadn’t. He hadn’t even spoken to her. When Frieza had died Tundra had sent her flowers… he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know what the etiquette was. What were you supposed to send your boss’s widow…? When you were in a relationship with him as well? And she knew about it? And she didn’t even like him anyway? It was such a bizarre situation, and Tundra certainly didn’t know how to handle it. But he’d sent her flowers, and a nice card, and she’d sent a thank you card in return… and then they hadn’t spoken for six months. Until Tundra got a call from one of Frieza’s servants, saying Glacia wanted to see him. They didn’t say why. So… here Tundra was.

Glacia lowered her eyes, almost looking guilty for a moment. “Yes, well… I’ve been busy.” She offered him a polite smile. “You know… sorting out insurances and his things… to be honest, I’ve been struggling to keep his competitors away.” She laughed slightly. “Do you have any idea how many offers I’ve had, just this week? Now that I have Frieza’s name, they all want to marry me.” “I… can imagine…” Tundra looked away, trying to keep his cool. Did she know she was doing this…? Glacia wasn’t really a mean person, but she wasn’t naïve either… She knew how much Frieza had meant to Tundra. Maybe her marriage to him was fake, but Tundra had loved him! He still loved him! And now she was bragging about how her dead husband’s name was making it easier for her to move on? Was she serious? Tundra shouldn’t have come here. He felt hot, and light-headed… he just wanted to go… “Speaking of his things…” Glacia set her glass down, and picked up a capsule from the arm of her chair. She held it out to Tundra, and smiled. “These are yours.” “… What?” Tundra frowned. “Open it.” Glacia instructed.

Tundra hesitated, but he obeyed. He took the capsule, and released its contents. Revealing… a map. A large, beautiful map of the universe. Sealed behind shimmering glass, framed with gold… Tundra recognised this… It used to be in Frieza’s private lounge. And stones… there was a small collection of large, ornamental gemstones, worth a fortune. Frieza had used them as decoration in his lounge; he liked to own valuable, rare things. He’d told Tundra once that they were all from planets that didn’t exist anymore… planets he’d sold or destroyed, actually. These stones were rare, maybe the only ones of their kind left in the universe… What was this…? Tundra looked at Glacia, frowning in confusion. “I – I don’t understand.” “They’re his.” Glacia stated. “You must have seen that map?” She smirked. “I know he let you in his private room. It meant quite a lot to him. He used to look at the universe, and wish that he owned it…” She huffed, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Silly, I suppose. Most would say it was his ambition that got him killed. But then I suppose, it was his ambition that made him such a success…” She reclaimed her drink, and took another sip, relaxing into her chair. “Money does come at a price, I suppose.” “And… these are his stones?” Tundra uttered. He still didn’t understand… “Mm.” Glacia nodded. “To be honest, Kuriza wanted them, but only because he’s stubborn. They don’t have any sentimental value to us, no more than the rest of Frieza’s things. Kuriza is just a hoarder. I told him he couldn’t keep all of his father’s belongings.” “Oh – no, please…” Tundra put the items back in the capsule, and held it out to her. “If Kuriza wants these –” “Kuriza only wants them so nobody else can have them.” Glacia smirked. “He’s like his father in that respect. Things only become valuable when they are taken from somebody else.” “… I’m not much into fancy ornaments…” Tundra mumbled. “I mean – Zarbon would love –” “Zarbon has been given enough pretty things by Frieza over the years.” Glacia stated. “I can promise you that. All he ever wanted was Frieza’s money – and I’m telling you, whenever something nice caught Zarbon’s eye, you can guarantee he got Frieza to buy it for him.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But then, you knew that. You know what he was like. Frieza’s given him enough.” She chuckled slightly, somewhat amused by the puzzled expression on Tundra’s face. Well… she was about to really shock him. “Don’t worry. There are a couple more of those stones in the universe, and if Zarbon wants them he can buy them. I gave him a very generous sum from Frieza’s inheritance, to thank him for… serving Lord Frieza on my behalf.” She took another sip of her wine, and watched Tundra’s face as she uttered. “And you can expect a generous amount coming your way as well.” “Oh – no!”

Tundra gasped, his eyes widening. “Glacia – you don’t have to –” “Tundra.” She stopped him, and narrowed her eyes at the young man. “… I want to.” Glacia spoke. “You know… Frieza had a lot of lovers. He had me, and more girlfriends and boyfriends that I care to count – more than he cared to remember, I suppose.” Tundra didn’t respond. He shifted slightly, his cheeks darkening. He didn’t need to hear it… He felt hurt. He didn’t need to hear… how insignificant he was. How many others there were… Frieza could have anybody… he’d had anybody. Tundra was just one in… he didn’t want to know… “… And we were all after the same thing.” Glacia continued. “His money. And the lifestyle he could give us, and all the wonderful things he could buy us…” Her face softened slightly, and she smiled. “You were the only one who loved him for who he was.”

Tundra looked at her, his lips parting slightly. They started to tremble… “And frankly, I don’t know why. I don’t know what you saw in him, but… it was something, wasn’t it?” Glacia smiled. “Beyond that silver tongue and that handsome face – his money and his body, that was all we wanted. But you… you saw something else. Something we never cared to look for. And I don’t know if he loved you, but… he needed you to love him. He needed somebody to love him, I think. And you…” She swallowed, and looked away, her eyes glistening ever so slightly, before she quickly caught herself and shooed her emotions away. “You were the only one that did.”

Tundra’s throat felt dry. He… he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. He tried to think of something – anything to break the silence, but… he couldn’t… “So!” Glacia huffed, regaining her composure with a dismissive gesture, as if what she’d just said was silly. Or what she’d felt… “I think it’s only right that you have these things, and something from his inheritance. You were his lover Tundra, and to be honest you did me a favour by fulfilling his needs for me. So – think of this as a thank you.” She smiled. “Compensation, for serving him so well.” “… I…” Tundra choked. He looked at her, his eyes glistening. He wanted to cry… “Th… thank you.” “Oh, you’re most welcome.” Glacia beamed. “I’m glad to get them off my hands. He loved these little things, but they’re just clutter to me. I’m sure you’ll appreciate them more than I do.” “I… I will.” Tundra whimpered. He watched her stand, and he stood up along with her. She moved towards him, and opened her arms once more in a polite hug, flinching slightly when he threw his arms around her. He squeezed her tightly, scrunching his eyes shut against her head, trying his best to hold back his tears. “Thank you…” Tundra whispered. “… You’re welcome.” Glacia whispered back. She swallowed, and closed her eyes, allowing her flawless composition to break for just a second. “Thank you too…”

They held each other for a moment more, until it became inappropriate and Glacia pulled away, in a dignified and ladylike fashion. She flashed him a polite smile and bid him farewell, making up some false but perfectly plausible reason why she couldn’t stay. Then a servant came to escort Tundra out.

[biasedwriting]

Skin Talk [VIXX, Leo] ||1||

Characters: VIXX’s Leo || OC

Soulmates au inspired by @animeotakupooh / @vixxscifiwritings ‘s soulmate au “Your Words on My Skin” as well as the discussions we had while she was writing it.

General concept :  In a world where the marks on your skin also show up on your soulmate’s.

Warnings : trash writing after a long time

Length : Two-shot

It started off bizarre when at the age of six or so, coloured streaks resembling marker marks appeared on his skin. He found it fascinating to be honest, the nonsensical green and red patterns that criss crossed over his arm, belly, and even his legs.

"My, your soulmate is a messy baby, Taekwoonie!" His mother claimed when he displayed this sudden phenomenon to her.  She had suspected his soulmate to have been born somewhere a year and a half ago when she spotted random birthmarks appearing on her son's skin all of a sudden, only to fade over the day. There would be new doodles every day, colours streaking across his skin and Taekwoon would gaze at them with fascination. The marks would fade over the day and new ones would appear the next. Sometimes he would doodle on his skin and wonder if the person on the other end could understand what was going on. Not that his doodles had any shape or form. Over the years, the meaningless scribbles on his arms took form and shape. Often circles, spiralling over his forearm. Sometimes, splatters of paint or ink, sometimes it was  thin scrawls written with a pen.

 Minah would wait, blinking at the empty spaces of her skin, waiting for some formless patch to appear like magic. Sometimes she felt like she was the only one talking; scribbling endlessly onto her skin, waiting with bated breath to get nothing. Oh, but the days the marks did turn up, she squealed, happy to see some oddly shaped monster (or rather, Taekwoon’s attempt at drawing a puppy) painted on her skin. Sometimes it would be to-do lists, odd observations, some days it would just be a pen squiggle appearing on her arm. It was random, strange, and infrequent.

 At fifteen, Taekwoon found the doodles on eyes on his forearms a little odd. He felt like he was constantly being watched. The random anime character names made him chuckle, but the little star on the edge of his wrist, that, he found very sweet as it stared back at him, dark in contrast to his pale palm.

 She smiled when she saw another small star appear right next to it. It reminded her of the fact that even if she felt alone and insignificant, at the tender age of eleven, there was always another star to help her shine. She pressed her lips to the star, smiling, knowing that she wasn’t alone.

 Taekwoon groaned in pain. This time the injury seemed to run deep and he was worried that his dreams of becoming a soccer player had been crushed. He sighed unhappily as he looked at the bruises on his body. The doctors had insisted that he stay in bed till he recovered, but boredom was killing him and all he could do was listen to the few tapes he had and stare at the ceiling.

 Then they appeared.

 The little bandage doodles appeared on every bruise. He blinked, following the lines that showed up taking the shape of a bandaid. His soulmate was watching. His soulmate knew. His soulmate was trying to help in their own strange way.

 Taekwoon  let out a laugh as tears pricked at his eyes and a small heart was scribbled right next to the biggest, most painful bruise. And all of the sudden, Taekwoon felt like everything would be okay.

 Taekwoon panicked when the skin around his eye purpled all of the sudden. There was no pain for certain so he knew that somewhere in the universe, something had caused his soulmate to injure themselves. Moments of panic were put to rest when he saw a scrawl appear on his forearm, written hurriedly. His first message from the person who was his soulmate.

“Sorry! I dropped the showerhead on my face by accident! I promise I’m not a punk! :3”

He let out a laugh, reaching for the marker on his desk to write out a “take care of yourself, silly.” right under the squiggly writing on his arm. He grinned when he saw “Thank you! I will! <3” appear right next to it.

They did write to each other frequently. They didn't know how to work this system out. But some days, Taekwoon would wake up to a “have a nice day”written across his palm. Some days he would wake up to lovely poetry written across his thigh.

 One day he woke up to  bruising on the back of his hands, the injection marks, and the single word “ill” written on his wrist which sent him into a worried frenzy. It was followed by silence for months as he wrote prayers onto his skin, feeling the anxiety and sickness that his soulmate was feeling. It reminded him of how close they were wound together and all he wanted to reach across to hold onto the warmth he could feel fading into the distance. He didn’t realize he that his heart had tightened, wound up, till the day the words appeared on his skin. The strings of his heart loosening, filling his lungs with air that he didn’t know he had been missing.

 “Thank you for the prayers, I am better now.”

 The familiar handwriting caused a wave of relief to spread across his chest.

 “Do you think soulmates can be friends?”

They had finally started talking, scribbling little notes to each other on their arms. Sharing enough and yet not knowing who the other person was. Somehow the anonymity gave them comfort.

 So when this message suddenly turned up in the middle of the night. She frowned, realizing she had never thought about that. But how much would a fourteen year old think when her major concerns was to get through school while her soulmate’s was to navigate through the beginnings of adult life?

 “I suppose. I haven’t really thought about it.” marker ink blotches on her skin.

 “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

 “Of course we are.”

 It wasn’t till months later that she woke up to a single bruise on the side of her neck. She gazed at it, baffled, poking it to see if it hurt. Sure, she had seen her share of bruises as well as her soulmate’s share of them, but this one was odd. She pulled a pen out of her pocket and shifted the sleeve away from her arm.

 “You have a bruise on your neck?”

 There was no response for hours. She sat there, staring at her arm, waiting for some sign only to be interrupted by a hiss from her sister.

 “Kim Minah! You’re fourteen and too young to be getting involved with someone!”

 She turned around to gape at her sister who was pointing at the said bruise on her neck and ranting furiously.

 “Involved?” she blinked “this isn’t mine though.”

 Her sister paused, blinking “clearly your soulmate is an ass.”

 Taekwoon stared at the scribbles on his wrist as they appeared in rapid succession.

 “Since we are friends, when were you going to tell me that you were seeing someone?”

“Because I have to go around explaining the hickey on my throat.”

“My sister thinks you’re an ass.”

“I don’t even know what to think.”

 “I didn’t think you’d understand...yet.” he began slowly, feeling his heart sink. Sure the girl he had met was beautiful and sweet. They had courted for months and yet...it just didn't feel right when she kissed him. It was deeply unsettling the way his heart simply rejected her acts even though his body tried to reciprocate it.  His soulmates was too young. He wanted to protect his soulmate.

 “I understand you think I'm young and probably don't understand relationships.” the words stung as they appeared “I don't mind you liking someone else...but please don't break my trust by not telling me.”

Taekwoon stared hard at the words as they faded off his arm knowing that his soulmate had wiped them off.

 It was hard not to talk to each other even then. Their souls were far too intertwined with one another to truly hate. Taekwoon had been apologetic. Sufficiently so, he hoped. He knew that his relationship with his classmate wouldn't work out because every time they spoke, he felt awful. She was wonderful for certain, but beyond the pleasantries, something just didn't click.

 “I broke up with her.” the cool metal of the pen nib scraped against his heated skin. The ink spread over in small blotches, following the pattern of his skin.

 “Is she alright? Are you alright?” came the response, clearly written with a thin marker.

 “Yeah, something just didn't feel right.”

 “Well, you always have me.”

 “How Exciting.” he chuckled, knowing that on the other end his soulmate was furious.

 “You're a real pig for someone who is going through a break up and is supposed to be my soulmate.”

 “But you're stuck with me.”

 “I wouldn't want it any other way :)”

 “Who the hell is Han Sanghyuk and why is my soulmate constantly talking about him?” Taekwoon grumbled. His sister looked at his arm, covered in scribbles, chuckling at how excited his soulmate was to be hanging out with someone with so many similar interests.

 “Awww our little baby brother is jealous!”

 “Everyone thinks we're dating, It's hilarious how we're the talk of the town though!” Taekwoon gritted his teeth as he read “how has your singing been going? I hope you're going to audition for a nice company who doesn't try to kill you. I'll  come for your fansign when you make it big. I promise.” And immediately he was smiling.

 “What if I fail and become a vocal coach?”

 “I'm  signing up for your classes.”

 Taekwoon grinned, picking up his marker to respond.

 “Although I promised I'd sign up for Sanghyukkie’s dance classes too.”

 Taekwoon was grumpy again.

 Even after the many assurances to Taekwoon that she was not dating ‘that giant lump of human!’ Taekwoon was still being a pouty and annoying child. After all, his soulmate was seventeen and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop her from liking anyone, considering his own past. But she was his soulmate damn it!

 The worst hit though came months later when Sanghyuk had the audacity to write “Property of Han Sanghyuk.” Right below her shoulder. Minah had sufficiently slapped his hands away considering the two were not on romantic terms. She was also in the middle of her “I am not property, I am my own person!” rampage. He chuckled, holding the Sharpie away from her as she tried to snatch it from him, calling him several expletives. But all of the sudden he paused, gaping at her arm as a big red cross appeared across his name and three letters appeared beneath it.

 Minah's arm now read  “Property of JTW”

Next

[lubdubsworld]

The unfaithful Wife ( Jimin/OC)

Chapter 9

I woke up feeling like I'd been run over by three trucks. My entire body ached , my throat felt dry and nausea hung heavily inside me, bile right at the back of my throat and I knew that I had less than five minutes to get myself to the bathroom, unless I wanted to vomit all over the bedsheets.

I wasn’t a complete idiot. 

Even thought it had been five years , the symptoms were painfully familiar and just as bad as they had been then. 

My body was no longer my own. I was in for the worst ride of my life. Misery crept up inside me in a huge wave.

“Baby?” Jimin’s voice made me look up and I knew, taking one look at his face that he didn’;t even guess.  And that somehow just made things completely worse.

“I have never hated you, as much as I do at this moment.” I said clearly and he flinched.

 “I’m so-”

“Don’t apologize, Park jimin! I swear to God, if you apologize, I’ll honestly kick you in the teeth! A sorry is when you accidentally knock someone’s coffee down or step on their damn foot! Sorry does not make up for the kind of things you put me thorugh!!! ” I shouted, tears stinging. 

He flinched again and reached out as though to touch me , but i recoiled.

“Get away from me. i have to-” 

I stepped out of the bed and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me and emptying the contents of my stomach into the sink. 

“Are you okay?” He called through the wood and i clenched my fists. 

The urge to kill him was increasing by the second.

“Seokjin hyung is here....” He called out again, sounding very tentative and apologetic and I sighed. Splashing water on my face , I slowly washed away the remnants of make up and sweat and wiped my face down. 

i opened the door and smiled as i saw the familiar face. 

“Hi, Oppa...” I reached out to give him a hug and his arms went around me affectionately. I saw Jimin’s eyes dart to where his hands rested on my waist and I glared at him so firecely that he quickly looked away.

 Was there no end to this man’s irrational jealousy?!! 

"you still remember me" He grinned and i relaxed.

"Of Course. How have you been?" I smiled. Seokjin was Jimin's cousin, a top surgeon and a wonderful guy. He also owned one of the best hospitals in the country. I'd first met him at our wedding and then a couple times more at a few parties. He was one of the few people who had refused to make public statements about me whne the media had gone around interrogating all of mine and Jimin's acquaintances.

"I've not been eating right...The past few days have been a bit rough." I admitted.

"Yes, well certainly, that would explain a lot of things but the most pressing issue is that... you're pregnant." Seokjin grinned wide and happy.

Jimin went parchment pale next to me and i gave him a vindictive glare.

“Wh-What?” He muttered. 

“Pregant!” i hissed. “ You got me pregnant you arrogant son of a-”

“Language!!” Seokjin hissed glancing at the sleeping form of our son and I shut my eyes taking a deep breath. 

“I’m pregnant …”  I said shutting my eyes for a brief moment. When I opened my eyes, I caught Jimin desperately trying to rearrange his features to show guilt.

“Wait, are you smiling?” I said affronted.

“What!! No!! Minnie I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have…”

“Stop saying that…it’s obvious from your face that you’re not sorry at all about getting me pregnant.” I shrieked, grabbing an abandoned pillow and whacking him on the face.

“What..I mean…of course I’m sorry that you aren’t ready but…”

“But…?? Why is there a but…” I glared.

“But I’m happy that this time I’ll be around to see the baby grow.” He said quickly and I couldn’t even begin to understand his thinking. 

Sighing, I dropped my head into my arms. 

“Not a planned one? Well, no matter. You’re pretty healthy and with ample rest you should have no trouble carrying twins.” Seokjin perked and it was the second blow to my stomach.

 I went green.

My entire body went cold. My brain shut down completely and the next coherent thought just wouldn't form at all. It was like going underneath the ocean , the sound of rushing waves a faint echo while I struggled to draw in the next breath.

Jimin was spluttering next to me  

“Two…What the hell… you’re too small to have two kids in there…” He said in complete seriousness and I laughed in disbelief.

“that’s what’s bothering you?!!  “ i shouted and Seokjin wisely stepped out of the room. 

Jimin and I stared at each other for a second and the exhaustion in my body finally caught up. i moved to the bed and felt my anger deflating. I was just too tired of being angry at my husband. 

“I’m sorry.” Jimin said again and i sighed. 

“You do realize this still doesn’t change things between us. I’m still not sure if this will work out.” I said quietly and he sobered up.

“Of course. I’m so sorry, Minnie. It’s just that... when I see other men looking at you and wanting you... i feel like ... like I’m not good enough. That someday you’ll realize you can do so much better adn you’ll leave.  ” He whispered.

I gawked at him. 

“Does that make any sense?” I said furiously and he shrugged.

“You married me when you were eighteen, Min. I was sure that if you had , had a chance to meet a lot of men and date them, it might not have been me that you would have chosen to marry.”

“Oh, you idiot.” I said completely thrown by this humbling confession. What was wrong with men? ?Why did they have the most ridiculous thought processes.

“I’m being honest here. Don’t call me an idiot for the way I feel.” He said angrily. 

I sighed. 

“I’m not...i just... why do you have to be so unreasonable.” 

He settled down next to me and draped his arm over me.He still smelled like heaven. Still felt wonderful pressed up against me. The urge to lean in, to press into him and to just kiss him was overwhelming. 

Park Jimin was a jerk but apparently my body never got that memo.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged to Mirae before me.” I said quietly and he grimaced.

“I never liked her. The night I first saw you, it was at her birthday party. You were wearing a nice lilac gown.” He traced my jaw with a finger and i sighed. 

I had a mild flashback to Mirae’s eighteenth birthday.

“I never saw you…” I said suddenly feeling a blush start up on my face as he kissed the edge of my mouth. 

. It was the bed. We were never used to talking on a bed. The bed had only ever meant one thing for me and Jimin.

“No, you didn’t. But I saw you and you took my breath away , sweetheart.” He whispered.

My face went redder and a silly little happiness bloomed inside me before I could tamp it down. God damn Jimin for knowing exactly what to say to make me forget why I shouldn’t be forgiving him. 

“I met your father later and it was just a coincidence that he happened to want to invest . I only ever met him to ask for your hand in marriage.” He smiled.

I grimaced. “ That’s so old fashioned.” I rolled my eyes.” You couldn’t come and talk to me first?”

“And look like a pedophile?? . I was twenty four and you were 18. That’s quite a gap.” He shrugged.

“You could have waited…” I pointed out, wrinkling my nose.

“And risk loosing you to someone else? No, I wanted you to be mine. Only mine. And I’m guilty of making sure that you had no way of escaping.”

I stared at him.

“Is that why you had such a hard time trusting me? Because you were always afraid of losing me?” I said suddenly , the cards falling into place with a rather rapid clarity.

Jimin looked away from me.

“it was stupid but, I …well all my friends they told me there was no way you would ever agree to be my wife. I mean, God knows I’m no looker… And well, I knew so many men, better looking rich men who would all have given their right limb to be with you. They told me as much. I was wary of not being good enough for you and…”

“Are you even listening to yourself… Jimin you’re gorgeous…what the hell is wrong with you?” I gaped at him.

Jimin hesitated.

“I’m not perfect. Will you forgive me?” He said softly and I sighed in defeat.

“To be perfectly honest I’m more miserable alone than I am with you. I’d rather have you by my side and be unhappy and leave you and cave in on myself. “ I whispered.

“I’ll never hurt you…I promise..” He said roughly and I shook my head.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

“Will you let me take care of you?” He whispered.” We don’t have to get married. We’ll leave Seoul.”

I stared at him.

“Leave Seoul..?”

“There’s a beach front villa in Jeju Do I’ve been working on. It’s completely isolated but fully fitted with all modern stuff. There’s hospital nearby and I’ve built a helipad anyway for emergencies. Why don’t we move there for the duration of your pregnancy?” He said very seriously.

It sounded like heaven but I bit my lips.

“Jimin…I can't just up and run away from the real world like that. I want my life here. .”

"Okay...Okay... We'll do it slow then. You need someone to take care of you...it's going to be hard being pregnant with Jin Soo to take care as well. ..." He begged.

I hesitated, still not sure. Sadly he was right.

“Trust works both ways, Minnie. I can tell you I’m sorry a million ways but it won’t work unless you trust me. You know I’d never hurt you intentionally…I never have… never will…” He said pleadingly and I nodded, not at all certain I was doing the right thing.

"I'll trust you. But if you hurt me again, it's really the end. And this isn't some sort of promise. I'm not committing to anything. " I said my voice trembling a bit.

The relief that flooded his face was oddly touching.

"Thank you babe, i love you so much."

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

A week later, I found myself alone as Jimin had been working overnight on a deal. 

I woke up feeling nauseous as usual. 

Groaning, I dragged myself off the bed, barely able to stay upright. The doorbell rang right at that moment and Jimin's annoyingly cheerful voice came through the home.

 How he could be cheerful,  after getting his estranged wife pregnant was just one of the mysteries of the universe i would never fathom.

"Good morning Sunshine!" He called out. He'd always been a morning person and I felt irritation well up. 

I'd done some research on carrying twins and apparently my mood swings and nausea could possibly double.

 Joy. 

I gripped the wall a couple of times, well aware that I was feeling too dizzy and really should be back on the bed before I crashed head first into the floor. But then Jin Soo's voice came from his room. 

He was up.

"Papa...Papa...it's Papa..." He whined piteously,  already clawing at the front door and I could hear Jimin laughing from the other side.

When I opened the door I was greeted by the sight of Jimin with bags of muffins, bagels and a huge bouquet of flowers. 

it was seven in the morning. Where did he even find flowers at this time of the day? 

The idiot.

 I opened my mouth to protest but was afraid I'd end up losing the contents of my stomach all over his thousand dollar shoes.

He took one look at me and went pale.

Stepping in he dropped everything in his arms on the floor and came straight for me.

"Babe, You look sick..."

He smelled like fresh baked bread and coffee and the faint lingering scent of fresh flowers. 

I went green.

I really couldn't stop myself, and ended up dashing for the bathroom at once, the attack on my olfactory senses making me vomit into the toilet bowl. My stomach cramped horribly, determined to expel any remnant of last night's dinner as well as bile. When it was over, I was sweating and Jimin was holding my hair away from my face. My vision blurred and I shook my head.

"Oh, God..." I choked out. I'd forgotten how bad morning sickness had been for me. Tears welled in my eyes and I let out a sob, remembering the absolute nightmare that my first pregnancy had been. I had no wish to go through it again at all. Now, thanks to my irresponsible husband , I was doomed to endure nine more months of hellish aches and soreness and sickness.

I wanted to kill Jimin. I really did.

I turned around to glare at him.

"I hate you." I said clearly and he went a few shades paler.

"I'm so sorry babe, I...I wish I could suffer for you... But..I can't.. Just tell me what I can do..." He begged. Sighing, I felt a little bad for my outburst. I gripped the edges of the counter and dragged my self up , ignoring Jimin's hand. I wouldn't make the mistake of relying on him completely again.

"I.. You'll have to take care of Jin Soo today... I need to get back to bed..." I said tiredly. Jimin nodded.

"Breakfast? For you?" He said worriedly and I shrugged.

"Even if I eat, I won't be able to keep it down. I'll get some after a while." I tried to take another step and my knees gave out. Jimin caught me just before I hit the floor.

"It's alright. Let me do this.." He said gently, pulling me up into his arms and carrying me to the bedroom. He placed me on the bed and tucked in the blankets.

"I'll make a quick run to the grocery store and get some fresh fruits . You should at least drink some juice." He said firmly. I could feel the exhaustion creeping in, weighing my eyelids down. I nodded vaguely and a second later fell asleep again.

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

"You're starting to show , I see." Seokjin said cheerfully, glancing through my ultrasound reports and blood work with a cheerful smile. I nodded, shifting around a bit on the seat. I was now 11 weeks along and already twice as big as I'd been with Jin Soo which made sense, considering there were two little ones in there. But this just meant I could no longer walk without being careful about knocking into stuff and the dull ache at the back of my spine was pretty much a constant.

I'd returned to work officially and Mrs. Min had even assigned two separate wedding events for me to cater to. One was for a fairly famous underground rapper called Min Yoongi and his partner, Jeon Jung Kook. Of course, same -sex marriages were still illegal in my country so it was more of a private ceremony with friends and family. A small crowd of less than 150. I'd already met the the slightly surly groom, Min Yoongi and his adorable fiance who literally radiated innocence and sunshine. The contrast had made me want to giggle on separate occasions earning glares from Yoongi. But i liked them and I looked forward to working with them.

"Yoongi told me you were helping out with his wedding . " Jin said with a smile and i startled.

"you know him?" I was surprised.

"We were in university together . Two years ahead of your husband. Kookie was in high school back then." He grinned.

"So Jimin knows them too?" I said pleasantly surprised.

"I'm pretty sure he knows them very well. He used to hang off Yoongi hyung's arm all the time when we were in college." Jin laughed fondly and I suddenly felt an unaccountable yearning to know all the little things about Jimin's childhood that he'd failed to share with me.

The door opened suddenly and as if summoned by my thoughts , Jimin toppled over the threshold. He'd finally gotten the deal done and had rejoined work the previous week. 

This meant that Jin Soo spent more time in the day care but I was planning on keeping myself occupied with work for a while.

 It would take my mind off the morning sickness and the perpetual weariness of being pregnant. 

Jin had told me that people just naturally had different kinds of pregnancies. Some ladies bloomed , had no morning sickness and glowed . Some of them, ended up crumbling in on themselves, losing weight and experiencing all the worst symptoms of Pregnancies.

I was just unfortunate enough to be one of the latter. 

"Am I late.. is it over??" He looked so excited Jin laughed out loud while I flushed.

"Jimin-ah... She's just getting a check up, not giving birth right now. Calm down."

"Still... I'd like to see my babies..." Jimin frowned, giving me a light hug and dropping a kiss over my head.

I sighed a bit, relaxing into his touch. The last two weeks had been a healing period of sorts for me. I still lived with Jimin and he spent almost all his time here, even moving in some of his office stuff so he could work from home. I didn't mind really, because honestly,  he gave me plenty of space.

"Well, I took a picture." I smiled and held out the little polaroid. Jimin studied it very carefully before nodding in satisfaction.

"Yup, a boy and girl and the girl looks like me..." He nodded happily and I gawked at him.

"How on earth are you seeing that in there?" Jin said in surprise .

"What? It's so obvious..." Jimin shrugged.

"Is he right?" I said stunned.

"Well, no one can possibly tell now. You're still in the early stages. But honestly, I suspected the same thing. " Jin looked flabbergasted. " But I've never had a parent accurately know the sex..." Jin looked completely baffled and Jimin waggled his eyebrows at me/

"Hear that babe? I'm a genius..."

I smiled shaking my head. " Is Jin Soo fine?"

"He's with his cousins. He's happy. Don't worry too much..." He said softly. I nodded, still a bit upset that i couldn't take full care of jin Soo. Without meaning to, my son sometimes roughed around with me a lot. After a few incidents of him accidentally kicking me in the stomach, Jimin and Jin convinced me that it was best to leave him with his aunt and cousins for a while. Carrying twins was always a risk, so I had to be extra careful with how much i worked.

"Jimin-ah...Your mother called me earlier." Jin said softly and I stiffened. So did Jimin.

"She wants to talk to both of you." He said softly.

I felt violent protest build up inside me.

"Thank you hyung." Jimin said politely before holding a hand out for me to take. I hesitated before taking it. Once we were in the car he quickly took my hand in his and squeezed.

"You don't have to come meet her..."

"I wasn't planning to. We're divorced now. I don't answer to your family anymore." I didn't mean to sound very rude but Jimin flinched.

"Can I take you out to dinner tonight?" He said after a pause and I sighed.

"I don't think that's going to work. I need to meet Yoongi and Jung Kook tomorrow for lunch ."

Jimin blinked.

"Wait, you're the gorgeous caterer?"

I stared at him in surprise.

"What?"

But Jimin was gripping the wheel tight enough to make his knuckles turn white.

"Fucking Kim Taehyung, I'm going to murder his ass!!" He gritted out.

"Who on earth is Kim Taehyung?" I said confused.

"He's Yoongi's younger brother and my classmate from college. He told me he's going to try to... " Jimin stopped and glared at me. " Are you flirting with other men now?" He snapped.

I stared in stunned silence.

"Are you out of your mind? I don't even know a Kim Taehyung..." I said shrilly.

"Well, he knows you. He told me he met you when he was out with Yoongi picking flavors for the cake. " Jimin stared at me accusingly and I wracked my brains to try and remember.

"Wait.." I frowned. " Does he have like dark hair with highlights?" I vaguely remembered the guy. I hadn't exchanged more than two words with him but he'd been genuinely excited with a wide boxy smile.

"See !!!  you do remember him.... DId he ask you out?"

"I'm just supposed to meet him for breakfast . With my clients. We may get some work done later..."

"Work?  what work? Do You like him or something?..." Jimin’s eyes bugged out  and i rolled my eyes.

"You're being ridiculous. I didn't even know his name..."

"Well, now you do. What are you going to do about it?" He challenged.

"I'm going to date him. " I snapped and then recoiled when Jimin snarled at me .

"Don't you dare..."

"Oh my God, I was joking you crazy person... I can't believe you think so low of me. Why would I date someone you knew..." I  rolled my eyes. My head was beginning to pound again.

After a few minutes silence he cleared his throat.

"You mean you may date...others?" His voice was very small and I felt a little lost.

"Jimin , I'm pregnant with twins. I have a five year old son. Dating is literally the last thing on my mind." I said softly and he looked even worse.

"I wrecked your life didn't I?" He said quietly and I felt genuinely bad. There was so much guilt in his tone that I felt weighed down by it.

"Don't blame yourself. You just... did what you thought was right. It's not your fault. Or mine. It's just... things happen sometimes , I guess. Bad things. To good people. We'll leave it at that." I shrugged.

"Still....we both know you don't really have a reason to stay with me..." He said softly and I didn't know what to say really.

"I'm here . Now. " I said finally.

But he didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride.

Later , in bed I thought a lot about what he'd said and what it meant for our relationship , going forward . In a way he was right. Our relationship wasn't what it was. Loving someone and being in love are two different things, really. I loved Jimin but I'd also fallen out of love, somewhere along the way. I liked him, I was attracted him but there were so many scars, so many fresh wounds, barely healed and still bleeding stopping me from taking a step towards him. It didn't help that he wasn't exactly being mature about the whole thing.

Was Jimin really insecure? Worried about losing people? Did that really give him the right to treat me with distrust though? Was it wrong of me to expect implicit trust instead of understanding that he was just naturally worried about losing me?

The questions led to more questions till my heart began to ache and my head grew heavy till I fell into a fitful sleep.

Hopefully, the kids would be something we could share together. Maybe, once he learned that I had no intention of pursuing anyone else, he would let go of his insecurities and begin trusting me.

[convocations]

doya have any advice for ppl who wanna make like, oc wc comic too??? like, im worried people wont take it seriously bc its, fictional cats i made up in someone elses world??

ok so! heres what i have found since ive started this comic

people dont care that much that theyre cats or that its springboarded off of warriors. depending on what youre marketing yourself for, your wc oc comic could mean different things

im an animation student (or, starting this fall anyway lol) so i’ll be talking this from an animators perspective

ive had my portfolio reviewed several times, and every time i include my favorite convocations pages and talk about it with the person looking at my work. people REALLY love seeing it. and they like it for a few reasons

the obvious one being that ive made up my own characters and plot and everything, and im putting it to work. i dont tell people that its a story based off of the warriors universe unless prompted, but even then people dont seem to mind. would it be better that this was 100% my own thought? of course. but people are still impressed that im able to make any kind of story at all. since im an animator, being able to create stories is really important, and making a comic shows a level of understanding of sequential art as well as making character designs that can be effectively used in an art format. (think: drawing for animation vs drawing for illustration. you need to have a design that be useful for your medium)

my comic has been running for a Long time. (2 years this sunday!! wooo!) and the fact that i can say “my comic has been updating for twice a week for two years” is really helpful. one of the biggest pluses that my comic has given me is that people can tell that i can be dedicated to a project and that im a hard worker. making a comic, especially the same comic for so long, isnt easy, and people understand that

strong character designs, even if its all cats, say a lot. showing off how different all my characters look gets a lot of admiration from others. online, its always one of the first things people compliment me on with my art, and even in portfolio reviews, i get the same thing. were all drawn to looking at characters first, so u gotta make sure those first impressions on them count

SORRY I KINDA WENT OFF HERE BUT MY POINT IS.... ITS OKAY IF U MAKE YR FICTIONAL CATS WARRIORS COMIC. people in the art world find meaning in it and will see all of the work you put into it. maybe people outside of the art world will think its silly, but your Art Peers wont

(and if youre anxious about getting looked at as “they only draw cats!” make sure to include human art in a portfolio or something... i had very little cartoon humans, but several figure and life studies and never got smacked with the “animal artist” label hehe)

i kinda assumed u meant this in a professional-ish setting since youre trying to make sure people are impressed... srry if this doesnt apply to you fjghfdjghd this is just what my life is

and if youre worried abt being taken seriously online: animal artists and warriors fans are under every floorboard, you wont have any problem being accepted online

[astrifer0us]

5, 6, 7, 11, 14, 19, 21, and 25 for your dnd ocs, Alyona, and the android apocalypse characters. have fun.

OC QUESTIONS | Accepting’

5. Are there any story arcs you would like this character to explore?

Alyona

Meh idkk???

Kita

Please let this asshole realise that it’s okay to let other people take care of you.

Isidore

???

Michaela

I want Michaela to have like a badass warrior woman moment man.

Calvael

I’m not sure. I’d like for him to let go of his mother’smemory sometime, and live for himself.

Chal

Please give Chal a redemption arc in which he realises that,wow, he’s been kind of a bad person. Wow.

Ghilli

Ahh idk. I really loved that she died and came back as aghoul, and I’d love to see what she learns from that, tbh.

Mort

Ehh, no clue yet.

Ren

Well she’s getting into a pretty cool arc now, having todeal with the loss of her love interest and actually grasping for a goal so shecan live on, so yeah, I’m excited about that.

Serafima

Noooo clue yet.

Rorik

I want to corrupt my little wolf boy so bad. Give this boy afiendish warlock pact or something, fuck him up.

Aer

Idk.

Eiridi

idem

Aiki

????? Honestly I’d love for em to realise humans aren’t toobad but. They kind of are.

Wyatt

At some point I want him to get over Traesyc and put itbehind him but rn? Let him grieve let him suffer.

6. What would your character like (or have liked) to do with their life?

Alyona

Kick ass.

Kita

Go… outside….

Isidore

KICK ASS GO TO SPACE REPRESENT THE HUMAN RACE.

Michaela

Find a solution to the android problem, save a lot of people.

Calvael

Live in his nice house on top of a hill and tend to hisgarden. Please. Leave him alone.

Chal

Chal is pretty content where he is now. He has centuries infront of him if he plays his cards right, and he’s intent on making the most ofit.

Ghilli

Ghilli is here to make the world a better place, and take noshit from anyone. A simple life.

Mort

Preferably live out of spite.

Ren

God, that’s a hell of a good question. She doesn’t reallyknow herself, at this point. She doesn’t really have a clear goal or a path setout in front of her.

Serafima

Just let this child explore the world at her own pace,please.

Rorik

LET THIS BOY BE HAPPY!!! I want him to be nice andcomfortable with Morana and explore the world and figure everything out.

Aer

??? idk. Be free as the wind.

Eiridi

She wants to find a new flock at some point, but right now she just wants revenge for the death of her old one.

Aiki

???? sorry lmao

Wyatt

God he’d love to just. Stick with his sis. Go onsilly adventures. Have fun, and not worry so much.

7. Who is your character’s best friend?

Alyona

??? no clue.

Kita

Issy and Michaela. Not that they’d admit it.

Isidore

Kita and Michaela.

Michaela

Kita and Isidore, obviously.

Calvael

Definitely not himself lmao, but??? He doesn’t really. Haveone.

Chal

Temperance and the Conman.

Ghilli

??? who knows. Maybe Ealda at this point.

Mort

???

Ren

Yknow. Barty. Probably.

Serafima

???

Rorik

Morana and Traxae, definitely.

Aer

???

Eiridi

???

Aiki

???

Wyatt

His twin, Scytta. They’ve been best friends since birth.

11. What crime is this character most likely to be convicted of?

Alyona

Murder. Definitely murder.

Kita

Punching someone they shouldn’t have punched.

Isidore

Breaking in.

Michaela

Hacking into her superior’s computer.

Calvael

Trespassing or something minor like that.

Chal

… Slavery. But they’ll have to catch him first. So probablysomething smaller, like, say, influencing a rich person to hand over theirmoney.

Ghilli

Something dumb she did to protect someone else.

Mort

Literally anything. They don’t have great morals.

Ren

mURDER??????

Serafima

Breaking a rule she wasn’t aware existed.

Rorik

Theft, poaching, something like that.

Aer

They’re a wild little gnome living outside of civilisation.Laws are not a thing they’re aware of.

Eiridi

Literally same as above.

Aiki

Breaking eir programming, probably.

Wyatt

…. Ykno. Murder.

14. What is this character’s relationship with religion or the church?

Alyona

Oh no. No, fuck the Overseers. Nope.

Kita

They don’t particularly give a fuck, to put it bluntly.

Isidore

He was raised by a catholic family, but doesn’t really care about any God anymore.

Michaela

No time for religion in a post-apocalyptic wasteland man.

Calvael

Calvael is not religious, though I could see him becomingreligious later on. He’s the type for silent prayer.

Chal

Gods are for losers, just don’t mess with them.

Ghilli

Ghilli is devoted to the creator of dwarves, Moradin.

Mort

The gods have forsaken them. I mean, that’s what they think.

Ren

Ren is a very loyal follower of Zehir, and recently became acleric of him.

Serafima

Ser worships Kord with great enthusiasm.

Rorik

Rorik is not the most pious, but he always sends smallprayers and sometimes offerings to Avandra.

Aer

Aer is not all about gods, but they do recognise theirexistence.

Eiridi

Eiridi has little knowledge of gods, and does not worshipone.

Aiki

Fuck gods.

Wyatt

He’s not very devoted, but does wear a little symbol of hisdeity around his neck. He’s pretty sceptical about gods in general, and doesnot believe they are as benevolent as people make them out to be. He’d ratherplace his trust in things he can see and experience.

21. Do you ship your character with any other characters? (This includes characters from other universes and canons)

Alyona

??? Nope.

Kita

Isidore and Kita would make a good couple if they could stop arguing for like 5 minutes.

Isidore

See above. Doesn’t stop him from flirting with everyone.

Michaela

Michaela had a tiny crush on Kita when she was younger, but she got over it.

Calvael

Not anything concrete, but @celticrune and i Have discussedsome things abt Calvael and Whisper and it was cute.

Chal

Boy oh boy yeah. Chal and @celticrune’s Temperance were mostlikely a thing back in the days and I still ship it HARD. Also, Chal and @kima-ladyofvord‘s the Conman, its great its wonderful 10/10 would ship.

Ghilli

GHILLI AND @celticrune’s TANWEN WOULD BE THE CUTESTGIRLFRIENDS AND I NEED IT.

Mort

N o p e

Ren

I don’t… wanna talk about it….. (but Syardis-debacle aside,Ren and @dunno-audino’s Lynnae would be the best, most dangerous couple ever and itsgr8)

Serafima

Not at the moment.

Rorik

Boy yeah. Rorik and @celticrune’s Morana is like. The OTP.

Aer

Not atm.

Eiridi

Idem.

Aiki

N OPE.

Wyatt

Hahahahaha. Traesyc. :c but apparently him and @celticrune’sKeiji also work very well together so there’s that.

25. What does this character mean to you? 

just gonna only do my dnd chars here cuz the rest is all a lil. meh. havent writtene nough abt them yet.

Calvael

Calvael was my first DnD character, but since I didn’t getto play him much, not a lot yet. He’s great anyway.

Chal

SO MUCH U DON’T EVEN KNO. He’s hands down my favourite, justbecause he’s this little, snarky piece of shit, he’s wonderful to write andheadcanon about and just??? I love him????

Ghilli

Ghilli I unfortunately have not played a lot yet, but she isvery fun to play, so there is that. She’s also the perfect mix of adorable anddangerous that I love.

Mort

Tbh not much yet lmao.

Ren

Ren is like. So great. She’s very little like me, but she’smy perfect outlet for my aggression and anger. Also, I love caster classes andshe was my first real caster class I played. She’s amazing and I love her.

Serafima

I haven’t played Ser yet, but she already means a lot tome??? She’s letting me prove that, heck yeah, neurodivergent characters cankick ass like any other! Disabilities don’t have to hinder your progress! Iwanna be like her!!

Rorik

Rorik is my little child. My son. I love him so so much. He’sthe one that really got me into DnD, I’ve been through so much with him, it’shard to describe just how much I care about him.

Aer

Not a lot yet? Though honestly any nonbinary character meansa lot to me just cuz. Well.

Eiridi

Not a lot, but she’s fun to play.

Aiki

Not much.

Wyatt

So much please protect this child from me I hurt him so muchbut he’s!!!! so good!!! To hurt!!!!