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imagine-a-life-like-this · 3 years

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Finding Love (L.F)

Warnings : like one swear word, mentions of divorce, reader doesn’t believe in love

Word Count : 2891

Synopsis : her best friend set her up on 7 dates for a project he called “finding love”, but none of the guys made her heart flutter the way he does.

“Okay, so there’s just some final questions you have to answer.” I nodded, barely looking at my best friend, thinking about the conversation I had with his professor just a few days prior.

“I hope Felix’s grade won’t suffer because I didn’t find love with this project.” I told her. “He worked really hard, picking out 7 different guys he thought would compliment me well. And they were all lovely, but Miss, I just don’t believe in love. I tried because I don’t want Felix to fail, but none of them sparked anything in me.”

“Y/N, Felix’s grade will not suffer just because you didn’t find love, though I don’t think that’s true. Forgive me if I cross a line, but I believe you already found love before this project began, but you’re scared. For you, love has always equaled loss, and this person is someone you could never lose, so you refuse to love them. Think about it for a minute.”

“Felix is my best friend.” I countered and watched as she smiled.

“I never said it was him.” I just stared at her, going through her words again. “Think about it, Y/N. Love isn’t as scary as it seems.”

“Did you enjoy the dates you went on?” I met his eyes, pretending like I was listening the whole time. I nodded and watched as he wrote my answer down. “Let’s go through each of the dates and then continue the rest of the questions.” Again I nodded as Felix set the papers down and focused all his attention on me.

Chan was the first guy I went on a date with for Felix’s project. He picked me up and I felt comfortable with him as soon as I opened the door. He greeted me with a warm smile and an awkward laugh as he stumbled over his introduction.

We ended up at his place, ordering some food and watching dumb romcoms on Netflix. The two of us laughed at the over-the-top cringey moments, and at some point, we fell asleep. I don’t remember falling asleep, I just remember waking up some time later, wrapped up in Chan’s arms with him still asleep.

It was an enjoyable date, something very lowkey, but there was no spark. It felt more like a hang out than a date.

“Did you just leave while he was sleeping?” Felix asked with a chuckle.

“No! Of course not!” I countered, laughing at how ridiculous that would be. “I woke him up and he walked me home.” Felix nodded, urging me to go on.

Minho was next, and at first he seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else, but he quickly opened up. “I figured since it was a nice day, we could have a picnic.” He told me with a smile as he walked towards the park.

It was really relaxing. We just sat on the blanket he brought, munching on the food he made while getting to know each other. He told me about his family and his friends, what he was studying, and what he hoped to accomplish in life. If I’m honest, I could listen to Minho talk about his dreams for hours and not get bored.

When he asked me about myself, it was like I drew a blank. The only stories I could come up with were all about Felix. How we met, how we agreed to attend the same college so we wouldn’t be separated, how he is the only person I’d ever need in my life.

“You talked about me?”

“You seem surprised.” I laughed. “You already know you’re my favourite person. Of course I’m going to talk about you.”

“Look at you being cute.” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks at the compliment, something that didn’t happen with the guys I went on dates with. Sure, they complimented me, and I was flattered, but they didn’t seem to effect me the way Felix does. “Continue!”

To me, the date with Minho was the most intimate. It’s the one that felt the most like a date. But again, the spark wasn’t there.

Changbin was the third, and I must say I was surprised. I’ve heard the rumours about him around the school, so when he took me to the planetarium, I was rather surprised. “Felix said you were into astronomy.” I smiled so wide when we got inside and the show began. I spouted off random facts I knew to Changbin who seemed really interested in what I had to say. He listened to every word I said, and even spouted off some of his own facts.

It was like running into an old friend, someone you haven’t seen in years but missed dearly. We clicked immediately and it felt like finding a safe place. For a minute I wondered if this is what people were talking about when they found their soulmates. But the longer I spent with Changbin, the more I realized that the connection I was feeling was purely platonic, on both ends. He’s definitely someone I see in my future, but only as a friend.

“Hey, at least we’re getting somewhere!” Felix explained. “For a whole minute you thought he could be it!” I laughed at how excited Felix seemed, but my heart seemed to fall to my stomach. Why was he so focused on me finding love? Why does he seem excited to see if I fell for one of the guys he set me up with? “Keep going! 3 down, 4 to go!” He smiled at me, and I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach. No. No that’s not right. I must have eaten something weird.

Hyunjin took me to an escape room. I’d always wanted to do one but was always scared. Hyunjin didn’t really give me a choice, telling me I would have loads of fun. So, we went. Unfortunately, he chose one of the hardest rooms they offered, thinking we were smart enough to escape.

It was fun looking around different rooms, trying to find the clues to escape. He was really easy to work with, and though we didn’t escape, we made it pretty far. We then grabbed some ice cream and just walked around, learning more about each other, and complaining about how difficult the room was. “You know, if I wasn’t so distracted by how pretty you looked, we totally could have escaped!”

“Oh so you’re saying it’s my fault?” I giggled, taking another bite of my ice cream.

“It is! But it’s okay, I forgive you.” He smiled as he stole a bite of my ice cream.

“Yah!” I screamed before quickly stealing a bite from his and sticking my tongue out at him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” We parted ways soon after, but I had a smile on my face the rest of the day. It was really fun and something I wasn’t expecting from these dates.

“Would you go out with Hyunjin again?” I shook my head and Felix’s wide smile seemed to faulter. “Well moving on then!”

The date with Jisung was the most cliché, but it was still a lot of fun! We went to the amusement park and spent the day riding all the rides and even trying our hand at the different games. I’m fairly sure I ate my weight in sweets that day, but Jisung didn’t judge, and honestly ate more than I did.

I was nervous at first, but I was quick to fall out of that and just be myself. Jisung is someone that makes you feel comfortable being whatever kind of person you are.

As the sun set, we finished the day off on the ferris wheel. Super cliché, but it was really cute how excited he was. So I followed him onto the ferris wheel and took in just how beautiful the amusement park looked at night time, with all the lights on and couples walking around hand in hand.

He walked me right up to my front door and told me to have a good night. I watched as he walked away out of sight before heading inside. My feet were aching, but I couldn’t stop the smile from forming.

“Let me guess. Still no spark?”

“No spark.”

“Well okay, date number 6!”

Seungmin took me to the aquarium, and it was so much prettier than I remembered. The last time I was there, my parents took me and my older brother. I remember looking at all the pretty colours, in awe of just how pretty the fish looked.

This time around, though I was still in awe at how pretty everything was, I was more focused on watching the little kids run around in amazement, wondering if that’s what my brother and I looked like to the adults when we came.

Seungmin seemed really nervous the whole time, barely saying a word and instead leaving most of the talking up to me. But he didn’t seem annoyed, instead he seemed intrigued by all my stories. He shared a couple of his favourite memories about the aquarium and told me why it was his favourite place. “Let me take a picture of you!” I exclaimed at one point. “To add to your memories at your favourite place.” I think that was the moment I first saw him smile wide. It was so precious, and I would have done almost anything to see it again.

“Oh so you’ll go to the aquarium with Seungmin but not me!?” Felix pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yah! It was your idea that I go on these dates!” He continued to pout. “Okay fine. Let’s go to the aquarium sometime.” He smiled wide, uncrossing his arms and clapping. “You are probably the weirdest person I know.”

“But you love me!” More than I think both of us realized. “But enough about us, what about date number 7.”

The date with Jeongin was the most unexpected as he took me to the library. We picked out a book for the other to read, found somewhere secluded to sit, and began to read. At some point, he handed me a headphone, and we listened to music together as we quietly read.

Every once in a while, he would do or say something that would make me laugh. It’s like he made it his mission to make me laugh as loud as possible and get us kicked out. It worked, by the way. I have no idea what he said, but I couldn’t contain my laughter, and the two of us got kicked out.

We ended up at a quiet café just down the block and just talked. We talked about the book we were reading, about school, friends, family, past, aspirations for the future. He was the easiest to open up to. He never looked at me with a look of pity, the way others do when they find out my tragic past, and instead made a joke to lighten up the mood.

I think I spent the longest time with Jeongin. We just kept telling stories and laughing and before we knew it, the barista was coming up to us to tell us they were closing. Neither of us even noticed it was dark out.

“So it seems like all 7 dates were successful in one way or another.”

“I suppose you could say that.” His professor’s words kept ringing in my mind. My whole life, I’ve believed love was something just in books and movies. I would see the couples on campus claiming to be in love, just to break up later.

I watched my parents argue every single day before divorcing. I watched my brother fall head over heels in love with a girl who played with his feelings. A part of me wanted someone to come along and change my views on love. Show me that love can be a beautiful thing. Falling in love was a risk, and I just wanted someone to be worth the risk.

And as I sat beside my best friend, recounting the seven dates he set me up on, I was hit with the realization that I found my person a long time ago. Felix was the person I turned to when I needed a shoulder to cry on, he was the first person I wanted to tell all good news to. When I pictured my future, he’s right there beside me.

He was right in front of me this entire time, and I just refused to believe it. As much as I hate to admit it, his professor was right. To me, love has always equaled loss. You love someone, you lose them. Felix is the only person in my life I couldn’t lose. It would be like losing a piece of me.

“So out of the seven of them, is there someone you’d consider going out with again?” Felix picked up his papers he previously set down on the table, no longer looking at me.

“No.” I answered simply, completely coming to terms with the fact that I’m in love with my best friend. “They’re great guys, but I think I know someone better.” I smiled, looking down at my hands clasped in my lap.

“You do?” Suddenly, the project he’s been working so hard on was forgotten. He looked at me, and I looked right back, admiring his soft features. I guess a part of me always knew he was the one for me, it was just waiting for the rest of me to catch up.

“I do.” I responded, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the best person I know. And honestly, he’s the only person I’d consider going on a second date with.”

“Did you go on a date I didn’t know of?” He asked, looking through all of his notes, trying to see if maybe he had missed something. Maybe he had set you up with 8 people but forgot. But there was only one name in his notes that could be a possible 8th date. A name he wrote down in case one of the others turned down this experiment. A name surrounded by question marks; his own.

“Why is your name written down?” I asked, pointing at the notes he was looking through. “I think I’d remember going on a date with you.” I giggled, looking up at him.

“Oh, I was just a back up. In case one of the others fell through.” I nodded, coming to that conclusion myself. But the thought of going on a date with him gave me butterflies.

“I think for the sake of the experiment, you should see if you could be the one to prove me wrong.” He stared at me with wide eyes, obviously wondering what was going through my head. “I mean, you do know me the best. I think if you tried you could win me over.”

“The project specifically said 7, Y/N.” I slumped back in my seat.

“Unfortunate. Well I guess we could go on a date just because.”

“What?” I let out a small laugh at his bewildered expression before sitting up in my seat, leaning closer to him.

“I’m asking you out.” The words didn’t seem to register in his brain, so I continued. “I talked to your professor, and she opened my eyes. She told me that for me, love always equaled loss, so I never let myself fall in love, especially with you. Because, you’re the one person I can’t lose.” I watched as his expression changed as the words registered.

“Are you confessing to me right now?” I chuckled as I nodded.

“Yeah I am. I’m confessing to you right now, Felix.”

“Holy shit.” I couldn’t help but let out another laugh. “So you’re telling me that you went on seven different dates with the seven biggest heartthrobs of our school, but you’re in love with me?” I nodded, my confidence slowly fading the longer this conversation continues. Honestly, I’m not sure why I confessed. There’s never been a moment in our years of friendship where I thought Felix could have feelings for me. There was just a part of me screaming to let him know, to confess. “Forget the project, I’m taking you out right now.” He said while throwing his papers over his shoulder.

“Felix!” I exclaimed while laughing, looking at him now standing.

“What? I’ve been waiting years for this! The project can wait. Right now, I’m taking the love of my life out on our first date.” I couldn’t help the smile that formed as I took his hand. His project was long forgotten as the two of us went out and did all the things we did as friends, but now there was more hand holding and a lot more kisses.

Love isn’t as scary as it seems. With the right person, love is beautiful. And though Y/N didn’t find love with the 7 boys I set her up with, she found love. A love that at first terrified her but made her happy at the same time. Falling in love is a risk, but it’s a risk she’s finally willing to take. And as the person she fell in love with, I hereby promise to never make her regret taking that risk.

#stray kids imagine #stray kids au #skz imagine #skz au #lee felix imagine #lee felix au #lee felix x reader #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung

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louiseleblancdiggory · 3 years

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Dorothea

I can’t believe I’m back! It’s been a little rough these past couple of months but I’m happy to be writing again and hopefully will bring it back to my daily routine! Taylor released a new album so of course I had to write something! I hope you guys enjoy, it’s just a little silly thing.

“We are a failure.”

“We have five Grammys.”

“We are a failure with five Grammys.”

Gavriel snorted at the same time Lorcan threw a piece of paper at Fenrys’s head. Rowan simply sighed, resting his head against the table and letting out a deep groan.

“Why can’t we release the album with twelve songs?” He raised his head, looking at his bandmates. “Every single song we tried to write this past week was absolute shit. I don’t want to shove some lame ass song on our album because my aunt feels like we should have thirteen songs like the last two albums.”

“Yeah, sure.” Fenrys snorted. “Why don’t you go tell Maeve that?”

Vaughan chuckled, putting the drumsticks down and walking to the table where Fenrys, Rowan, and Connall were sitting. Lorcan and Gavriel both sat on the ground nearby, ripping out bad half-finished lyrics from some notebooks.

“We need a vocalist, that’s why he won’t do it.” Vaughan singsonged, sitting by Connall’s side. “We have been trying to write the songs together, why don’t we try something each one of us wrote separately?”

There was a beat of silence. For the five years the band had been together, every single song had been written by all the members. Sometimes two or three of them would do most of the work, but out of their thirty eight songs, there wasn’t one that didn’t have a contribution from all the members. Yeah, they would write their own songs, but it was never really serious or even meant to be used in an album.

And because they weren’t serious or meant to be used in an album, they were either absolute shit or fucking personal.

Rowan held in another groan.

Lorcan shrugged, getting up and sitting by Rowan’s side. Gavriel did the same, sitting on the table head opposite to where Fenrys was.

“Ok, who’s gonna go first?” Gavriel clapped his hands. “Fenrys.”

“Why me?” He squeaked.

“Why not you?” Connall butted in.

“Yeah, why not you?” Vaughan backed his boyfriend.

“Rowan, this is a mutiny against me.” Fenrys turned his head to Rowan, pouting like a child.

Both Rowan and Lorcan smiled sarcastically, and the latter said, “you are not the one in charge. If it was a mutiny, it would be against Rowan.”

“Who asked for the vulture to speak?” Fenrys asked, eyes narrowing at Lorcan.

“Just show us a goddamn song, Fen.” Rowan sighed, rubbing his temples. A few years ago, he had insisted for Gavriel to be the leader of the band. The older man had refused profusely, and Rowan only found out why when he started being the leader.

He was surrounded by adults who had the money and influence of gods but acted like children.

It was like being a mother but without the Mother’s day gifts. No advantages, really.

As instructed, Fenrys presented three songs for the group. And then Vaughan did. And then Connall, Gavriel, and Lorcan.

“I don’t know how to say this politely…” Connall started.

“They are absolute shit.” Lorcan finished.

“Shit is a compliment.” Rowan nodded, letting out a straggled laugh. He scratched the stubble on his cheeks, a small sense of panic rising inside of him. It wasn’t that Rowan was shy— he had let go of his shyness a long time ago—, but that didn’t mean he liked to go around advertising his personal ideas to the world. Some lyrics drafts should remain just that— drafts. Not everything was meant to be heard by everyone. Gathering some of his courage along with the knowledge that an acceptable song was an absolute necessity, he sighed. “I might have something.”

“What is it?” Gavriel said calmly at the same time Lorcan grunted. “You have something and you let us go through the torture of listening to Fenrys’s ideas?”

“You hurt my feelings like that, man.”

Rowan ignored both Lorcan and Fenrys, turning to Gavriel. “It’s about a girl.”

The room was dead silent.

Rowan knew he wasn’t really the dating type, much less the type to write songs about love, but the absolute silence was a little offensive.

“Ok…” Vaughan said, a scary smile on his face. “That came out of nowhere.”

“You can love someone?” Connall asked.

“You can feel emotions?” Fenrys deadpanned after his twin finished his sentence.

Lorcan snorted and Rowan saw Gavriel biting the inside of his cheeks. Absolute regret washed over his body immediately, but it was too late to back down.

Rowan tried to play it cool, keeping any emotions out of his face. He shrugged, opening a notebook and tapping a pen against it. “Not anyone I’ve seen in years. I don’t even remember her real name.”

The Cadre exchanged looks.

“When I was a kid my parents used to send me to this summer camp. From ages six to thirteen there was this girl who also went every single summer. She was a year younger, but we were friends. Barely talked during the rest of the year, maybe exchanged a letter or two.” He continued, eyes skimming through the lyrics in front of him. “Childhood crush and all. I know her name started with an A… Maybe an E? The counselors used to call her Dorothy, and I thought it was Dorothea. Called her that for two months until she corrected me. The nickname stuck between us, so yeah, Dorothea is all I have. I was thirteen when I stopped going, so she was twelve. Probably doesn’t even remember me.”

“Oh, that’s cute… Tragic young love and all.” Fenrys was smiling like an idiot, and Rowan rolled his eyes. He had never talked to anyone about Dorothea, not even his parents, not even when he was a kid. Life at home was shit during the whole year, but the summers? They were for late nights, swimming in the lake, running in the forest. They were sunny, and easy, and the few good memories he had from childhood. And she was in all of those memories— the girl and that fucking dog. Dorothea was the purest thing about his childhood, and he never wanted to have her memory stained by telling about her to his parents or school friends.

“Let me see this.” Vaughan said, taking Rowan’s notebook before Rowan could react. His friend’s pitch black eyes skimmed rapidly through the page, mouth opening slowly. “Holy shit.”

“It’s shit?” Lorcan asked.

“No, I mean holy shit as in this is amazing.” Vaughan looked up, brows raised. He passed the notebook to Gavriel, making both Lorcan and Connall move closer to read it too. “You had this song for two years now according to the date on the edge of the page. Why didn’t you share?”

Rowan cleared his throat, regret just growing more and more. “We write every song together.”

“If every song you write is like this, then we should probably let you take care of this task from now on.” Lorcan said, taking the notebook and throwing it to Fenrys.

Fenrys’s was probably Rowan’s best friend. They knew each other for the longest, and even though Rowan would never admit it out loud, Fenrys was the closest thing he had to a family and his approval was important.

Fen raised his head from the notebook, dark eyes shinning as a huge smile broke his face in half. “We’re recording this. Today.”

Connall and Vaughan laughed, and Lorcan clapped Rowan’s back. “Good job, birdie.”

Rowan didn’t know exactly what he was feeling, but somewhere between absolute fright and excitement could probably describe it.

—————

“Rowan Whitethorn!” A female voice rang through the room, and every member of the Cadre winced.

“Your aunt is gonna kill you.” Connall said, face washed with fear.

Maeve Whitethorn was the scariest woman to ever walk this earth, and so Rowan didn’t think Connall was completely wrong about that.

And yet, when Maeve entered the room she was…

“What the fuck.” Fenrys blurted out.

Smiling?

“She smiles.” Fenrys loudly whispered to Lorcan, receiving a punch to his arm.

“You, my nephew, are a fucking genius.”

“Yeah, ok, what the fuck.” Vaughan asked from the drums.

“What did I do?” Rowan asked cautiously, afraid that his aunt had actually gone insane.

“Dorothea, that’s what you did!”

“People liked the song then?” Gavriel asked from the couch. “It was a filler song, but good to know that’s not forgotten.”

“Oh, you’re not understanding.” Maeve laughed. All the boys’ jaws went slack. “People are eating that song up. And I mean trending everywhere, top in every single chart… Everyone loves Dorothea.”

“But how?” Lorcan frowned. “We didn’t advertise it.”

“Because people love a real life story of love.”

With that comment, Rowan’s body went taunt.

What the fuck.

No one in the band had told anyone what the song was about, nor that it was a real thing. For all the world knew, it was just another song that the band wrote together. And that’s how it should have stayed. Rowan hated being the center of attentions, and hated even more when his personal life was the topic at matter.

Dorothea had been his secret for so long, and he really thought that the song would be a secretive way to tell the story to the world.

If people knew it was real, if people knew anything about it, it was obviously not as secretive as he thought it was gonna be.

Shit, Dorothea wasn’t even her real fucking name. There’s no way anyone could know that.

Unless…

“Wait, she heard the song?” Rowan blurted out, a mix of emotions making his stomach drop. That also wasn’t on his plans.

Fenrys’s eyes widened. “Dorothea came forward?”

“Holy shit.” Vaughan let out a nervous laugh. Connall put a hand over his mouth, and both Lorcan and Gavriel looked at Rowan.

The boys knew how Rowan wanted this song to go. Knew he didn’t want the real story to go around like this. Because when stories went around like this, people would start making theories, and harassing the girl, and just shoving themselves in situations that did not concern them. Rowan loved his fans, loved the world he was in, but he was also the first to admit how brutal it could be. It would only take one slip up, one fact about this girl that the media didn’t like, for the whole world to attack her.

Rowan tried to protect her from his fucked up life during childhood just to throw her to the sharks later on.

And yet, another part of his panic had nothing to do with the media and the fans. It had to do with her. What if she hated the song? What of she didn’t want that story to be told? What if she wished for a calm life where her presence would never be noticed by the media? Rowan couldn’t stop thinking about her reaction, if she had remembered him the first time she listened to it or if it took a while.

He felt like his own body was trying to suffocate itself.

Fuck, he was gonna vomit. Or maybe pass out. Shit maybe even pass out on a pool of his vomit.

Ok, that was disgusting.

“It wasn’t the girl who came forward, it was her roommate. Posted a video online and then boom! Global success.” Maeve said, not even noticing her nephew’s growing panic. “Wait, I’ll show you the video!”

Fenrys grabbed Rowan’s shoulder, sitting by his side on the couch as Maeve plugged her phone to the projector. Lorcan sat between Rowan and Gavriel on the couch, and Connall and Vaughan sat on the ground. All of them looked expectantly at the screen, waiting for the bomb to drop.

He was gonna see her again.

After sixteen years.

Shit, it was getting hot inside that fucking room.

The screen popped up, and a beautiful woman with green eyes and long dark brown hair showed up.

“That’s not her.” Rowan blurted out. She could have dyed her hair, facial expression changed over the years but… That wasn’t the girl he met during the summer. No, he would recognize her eyes anywhere, and they sure as hell weren’t green like his.

Maeve rolled her eyes. “I told you it was her roommate who came forward. Now watch.”

The video started playing, and the strong and excited voice of the smiling woman on the screen started sounding through the speakers. “Ok, so I was driving home the other day, listening to the new album of the Cadre when the song Dorothea came up, right? And I thought that it was a little strange for the Cadre to put a rerecording of a song on the album since they had never done it before.”

The girl started to walk around her apartment, excitement lacing every single word.

“But then I found out that Dorothea is not a rerecording. But that doesn’t make sense, because I was a hundred percent sure I already knew this story. I don’t know any Dorothea, and I sure as hell don’t know Rowan Whitethorn, so it made no sense that I already knew the story being told in the song.” The girl let out a laugh, entering a room inside her apartment. “For days I would listen to that fucking song and keep asking myself why I feel like I know it. It’s not from a book, a movie…”

She started pulling out a box from under the bed, smile widening.

“And so yesterday my roommate asked me to grab an old box of VHS under her bed when I saw this box.” She filmed a huge box in front of her, the lid barely containing all the photos inside. “And that’s when I remembered where I know Dorothea from.”

The girl laughed again, opening the lid and running her hand through the pictures. “I knew the story because she had told me years ago. Dorothea wasn’t her fucking name, it was her nickname.”

As if in slow motion, the brunette took out an old picture from inside the box. Rowan felt all the air leaving his lungs as he stared at it. The picture was a little blurry, but there was no mistaking it. It was eight year old him in swim trunks, his arm over the shoulder of a shorter seven year old blond girl. Her biking was pink and full of frills, her wet blond hair sticking to her shoulders. She was holding a small black puppy, the dog obviously trying to wiggle himself out of the picture. The both stood before the lake, smiling brightly, a bunch of teeth missing. The girl in the video turned the picture, and right there, written in a fading blue pen was what made the song so famous.

Dorothea and Roro and Toto. Summer of 2000.

The girl in the video turned the camera back to her, smile not leaving her lips. “She told me that the nickname was Dorothea because the counselors used to call her Dorothy. As in the Wizard of Oz. The dog’s name was Toto, and so she was Dorothy. But then, he understood it wrong and just called her Dorothea. And…”

“What are you doing in my room?” A sweet, soft, and low voice interrupted whatever the brunette was going to say. She let out a yelp, letting the phone fall.

And the screen went black.

The room was silent for a few minutes after the video was over.

“Well shit.” Fenrys broke the silence. “What are the chances of her being as beautiful as her roommate?”

Lorcan reached behind Rowan to hit Fenrys on the back of his head.

“We should put a gag in his mouth.” Gavriel sighed.

“Oh, kinky.” Fenrys smiled seductively and winked at Gavriel. If it weren’t for the absolute shock raging inside of him, Rowan would have laughed.

“Is there a video of her?” Rowan quietly asked his aunt.

She looked at him for a second too long before nodding. “Just a second, there might be one. She isn’t really one for the cameras, but I do think she showed up in a Halloween video.”

She wasn’t one for the cameras.

Shit, shit, shit.

She wasn’t one for the cameras and Rowan had made her existence global knowledge.

Maeve took a few seconds to try to find the video, smiling again once she found it.

“This is still fucking weird. Your aunt can smile.” Fenrys said, and Rowan was glad for the words. Everything was happening too fast and too slow at the same time, and Fenrys’s stupid comments were a good way of centering himself. Looking at his friend, Rowan realized that Fenrys knew exactly what he was doing. “I thought she had lost the ability when she was, like, five or something.”

“That would imply that Maeve was ever a child.” Vaughan whispered from the ground.

Connall snorted, and Lorcan tried to contain a smirk.

“Here it is!” Maeve announced.

As if the screen was a magnet, all the eyes in the room snapped back to it. They all watched the screen expectantly, and Rowan thought Fenrys was even bouncing on his seat.

A petite woman appeared, clad in a black dress that matched her pitch black hair and eyes. If Rowan wasn’t so distracted, maybe he would have noticed Lorcan’s low, and yet sharp, intake of breath.

The pale girl was in the middle of two taller guys, one with inky black hair with a crown on top of it, sapphire eyes contrasting with the blood red of his cloak, and the other one with golden blond hair under a pirate hat. The three of them stared at a tall woman dressed in what Rowan supposed was a reaper costume. The white blond hair and golden eyes made her perfect for the part.

“He’s a cunt.” The reaper girl said, picking her nails with a scythe Rowan wasn’t absolutely sure was fake. The girl behind the camera— the brunette that recorded the video that exposed the real meaning of the song, Rowan supposed— chuckled as the two other guys exchanged a humorous look.

The petite woman smiled, obviously in agreement with her friend. “He is, but that’s ok. Did Tam end our three year relationship, six hours before Halloween, through the phone? Yes. Were we planning on a couple’s costume and I was left like an idiot wearing an Evie O’Connell costume with no Rick? Yes. But that’s ok because I have…”

“Me.” That same low and soft voice filled the room again, and as if she was always the center of attentions, all heads in the video snapped to her. Even though she wasn’t on camera yet, Rowan could hear the smile in her voice.

The blond guy rolled his eyes. “You have a thing for dramatic entrances, Aelin.”

Aelin.

Her name was Aelin.

“Reason why I live, actually. But come on. Don’t I deserve a dramatic entrance when I look like this? I look rather fucking dashing as Rick O’Connell, don’t I?”

“She does.” The guy with inky black hair nodded towards the blond guy.

“Don’t encourage her.” The other grunted, shaking his head but obviously smiling. “If my cousin’s head grows a little bit more she won’t be able to pass through the door.”

And then, as if time itself had stopped that second, the camera turned to Aelin and all oxygen left the room.

“Fucking shit.” Connall breathed, and Rowan saw Fenrys’s jaw going slack from the corner of his eye.

In his defense, so did Rowan’s.

The woman— Aelin— was exactly what she had just called herself. Fucking dashing.

Golden strawberry hair pulled back into one of those high, terribly made buns, slightly tan skin, and bright blue eyes, Aelin was every inch dashing she claimed to be. The costume was exactly what Brendan Fraser had wore the majority of the movie, and hell if it didn’t fit her perfectly. Aelin had grown to be the most beautiful woman Rowan had ever seen, and he felt his heart doing laps inside his chest just like when he was younger.

Well, fuck.

“If she was Rick O’Connell in the movies I would have probably paid more attention.” Fenrys muttered, dodging another hit from Lorcan. “What?! Look at her. The girl looks like the offspring of an angel and a supermodel.”

Aelin grinned, straight white teeth biting her lower lip. “Thank you, Dorian. And, I don’t need encouragement, Aedion. I am quite capable of being narcissistic on my own.”

The girl with blond white hair chuckled. “You were supposed to be a reaper with me.”

Aelin fake pouted. “Elide, my dearest cousin,” Aelin said pointedly, eyes narrowing at Aedion. Elide, the petite girl dressed as Evie, bit her cheeks to keep a smile in. “Needed me. Put a crown on top of your pretty head and do a couple’s costume with your boyfriend, Manon.”

Dorian sighed. “I tried convincing her.”

Manon simply crossed her arms. “I don’t do couple’s costume.”

Aelin shrugged nonchalantly. “Pity.”

And then, much to Rowan’s absolute panic and fascination, Aelin turned directly to the camera. She was obviously going to talk to the girl recording, but Rowan could barely hear the words as her full face came into view. Aelin was beautiful, but Aelin staring straight at you? Breathtaking.

“Don’t you think it’s a pity, Lys?” Aelin asked innocently, but a smirk graced her lips.

The smile in Lys’s voice was obvious. “Oh, yes. A pity.”

Aelin smiled, turning to Elide with a raised brow. Her cousin gave a less vicious version of Aelin’s smile. “Such a pity.”

It was obviously some inside joke, because Manon grunted, rolling her eyes. “Are we going or not?”

Aelin rich laugh drowned the room before the video ended.

“Well.” Vaughan said after a few beats of silence.

“Well.” Gavriel agreed.

“Well.” Another voice came from the door, and Rowan had to keep a displeased grunt in as Erawan walked into the room. The man was smiling sarcastically, eyeing the frozen image on the screen hungrily. Aelin had thrown her head back, mouth half open as she laughed. “Would you be pissed if I asked her hand in marriage, Rowan? Quite a beautiful girl, your Dorothea.”

Rowan would have gotten up and punched Erawan if Fenrys hadn’t literally sat on his lap before he could do anything. His friend turned to Erawan with a smile on his lips. “Unfortunately, Ewew, I believe the lady in question must prefer to stick to humans. She doesn’t really look like the I-do-demons type.”

Despite the obvious tension in the room, Connall took out his phone and took a picture of Fenrys sitting on Rowan’s lap. Lorcan had his arm behind both Gavriel and Rowan, and Vaughan was sitting in between Rowan and Lorcan’s leg. “You guys look like a strange ass family. This is gonna be this year’s Christmas card. I’ll photoshop myself in.”

Lorcan snorted, shaking his head before looking at Erawan. “Let’s leave the girl out of this, alright? If any of us wanted to use her for advertisement, we would have contacted her ourselves.”

“I’m your PR.” Erawan smiled. He was, a fact that the whole Cadre regretted. All pf them waited excitedly for the day Erawan’s contract expired.

Maeve was hard and cold, Erawan was a straight up asshole. Not even his aunt could put up with him for long.

“A very unfortunate fact you never let us forget, Earwax.” Fenrys said, nodding diplomatically. “Very, very unfortunate.”

“I don’t want her involved in any of this shit.” Rowan finally said something, voice low and threatening. Just the thought of throwing his childhood friends to the wolves that surrounded his life made his stomach turn. “You are my PR, so do your job. Create a distraction, release some rerecording, book us some interviews… I don’t care, but I want the focus away from her. I don’t want her involved in anything, Erawan. I mean it.”

The room was silent, tension threatening to suffocate anyone who breathed deep enough.

To Rowan’s surprise, and some gratefulness, Maeve took a step forward. She unplugged her phone from the projector, and Aelin’s image disappeared. “I believe it’s better if we keep the girl out of this. She’s very low profile, private accounts on both Twitter and Instagram. Dragging her into spotlight might not be a good option, specially since we don’t know how she behaves, what it would do to the image of the band. We have a love story, let the fans speculate, do some theories. Everything will die down in a month and she’ll be able to continue with her life.”

For all her harshness, all her coldness, Maeve wasn’t a bad aunt. She started taking care of Rowan when he was fifteen, and although they never had a close relationship, Maeve knew how to help him whenever he really needed it. It was the reason why he asked her to be the band manager, despite her obvious dislike of the human race. She was smart, cunning, and, at that moment, was using both qualities to keep Aelin out of what would become a huge mess.

“If we bring her in, there is nothing to terrorize. Her personality will be real, not something fans can stipulate and mold to their liking. She’s young and private, throwing her to the media would be a carnage. Leave Aelin out of this.” Gavriel tried to resonate with Erawan, voice low and calm as always.

Erawan sat on a table, a fake hurt expression overtaking his features as he sighed. “If only you had told me that before.”

The pit inside Rowan’s stomach grew.

“Before what.” Vaughan grunted.

“Before I contacted the girl.” Erawan smiled, as Rowan felt all the oxygen leave the room. He stared straight into Rowan’s eyes, a cruel smile overtaking his lips. “Would you like to see your childhood friend again, Whitethorn?”

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thewhiteroseofvermilion · 3 years

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Moving Forward

Hello everyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve last spoken to you all, and an even longer time since I’ve last updated this story. Over the months and years, my absence has saddened, frustrated, and even angered many of you. Despite my own valid feelings of how—to put it bluntly—I don’t owe any of you anything as this is something I do for free and in my own free time, I still recognize how it must feel for you all to see something you enjoy so much slowly lose momentum and eventually grind to a halt. Furthermore, my habit of making enthusiastic yet empty statements in between didn’t help either.

As such, a proper and honest explanation is due, as anything less would be unkind. This will be lengthy, but please bear with me.

For the past four years, it’s been increasingly difficult to find the time, energy, and motivation for me to properly sit down and write. Seemingly gone are the early days of this story’s life when I was able to publish a new chapter every month or so, or even every two weeks when I was at the top of my game in terms of activeness. Even though I had an immense workload due to being a double major in college, leading me to adopt the best work ethic I’ve ever had, I still led a sheltered lifestyle where I didn’t have to worry about the many looming, inevitable adult responsibilities that were ahead of me.

Those tranquil years of course came to an end when I graduated, and I soon felt immense pressure to shift my attention to finding work, living independently, and working on things that would further my career. While I received support as an aspiring writer from the majority of my family, those being my mother and sister, the both of them commented more frequently as time passed by that my “fanfiction” wasn’t something that I should be spending so much time on anymore. After all, it’s not like I could sell the work as my own, and the fact that despite fanfiction absolutely being a valid artform, it wasn’t something that the world of professional employers cared about.

Nonetheless, when I did eventually find work as a film freelancer, I still tried to persevere and write on the side. My goal back then was to work in film in order to sustain my pursuit in writing. Film was something I went to school for, greatly enjoyed, and even saw a possible future career for myself in, but it was the writing aspect of it that I was truly after, that being primarily screenwriting.

After two years of living at home, I felt the need to try and live independently as I outgrew my tiny room and my mom started dating a man that I didn’t particularly like. I knew it wasn’t financially smart of me to do so when my mom allowed me to live with her rent-free. But at the time I thought that it would help me to become more mature and productive, as I would have to force myself to work in order to put a roof over my head and food on the table—as opposed to living a sheltered life at home where everything was taken care of for me. Essentially, I was longing for the lifestyle I had in college, thinking that once I returned to it, I would be able to reacquire that once incredible work ethic I had.

So, I became roommates with a friend from college and together we rented a townhouse together. Rent wasn’t terribly expensive, but it wasn’t cheap either. Regardless, I was able to make ends meet. My greatest challenge however, was to live up to my family’s spoken and unspoken expectations. On one hand, my mother was sweet and understanding, naturally giving me her full support. My father, on the other, always thought that it’d be better for me to pursue something safer and more lucrative, and to not risk being a starving artist. But the one I had to prove myself the most to was my older sister, who was wildly more successful than I was—financially and professionally. My pay compared to hers was like a drop in a bucket, and I felt both indirect and direct pressure from her to be more “professional” like her. Therefore, I threw myself into my work, which is when things slowly began to go downhill.

As a film freelancer, my work hours usually averaged between 10-12 hours a day, and with my work taking me all over my home state of Maryland and even into neighboring Washington DC and Virginia, my commute time to and from work ranged anywhere from an additional 1-3 hours. It became incredibly common for me to wake up for work anywhere between 3-6 AM and not get home until 8-10 PM.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, I slowly slipped into a routine where when I did have the “time” to write, I had zero energy or motivation as my work was so taxing. I reached the point where I had to drink two energy drinks with 300mg of caffeine to get myself to and from work. I saw less and less of my roommate and friends. I spent an alarming amount of money and gained weight from ordering take-out so often because I hadn’t the energy to cook for myself when I got home late from work. There would even be days when I fell into what felt like comas, sleeping up to two days straight at one point. My physical, mental, and emotional health was in serious decline. And yet I didn’t see it that way, as I had become obsessed with trying to prove to my family, my sister in particular, that I wasn’t a failure and that my pursuit of writing wasn’t a hopeless one.

During the first month of COVID-19′s outbreak last year, I finally had a much-needed vacation. This was undoubtedly the best time for me to have returned to writing—but I didn’t. At this point, so much time had passed since my last proper writing session that the few times I did try to write, I found myself completely unable to write anything. I was so out of practice and so out of touch with what I had written. This honestly frightened me, and I soon began to doubt if I could ever be able continue the story with the same quality that so many readers fell in love with. Regrettably, I fled from this revelation long enough for a full month to pass by, and I soon found myself busy with yet another distraction: unemployment.

I was out of work for about 4.5 months, from the middle of March to the beginning of August. During this time, I had to rely on state unemployment, which earned me great scorn from my older sister. Our relationship had always been uneven since we were kids, but it was becoming increasingly toxic as of late since our college years. I felt so ashamed to tell her how much money I made in a year from my job as a film freelancer, and how I barely managed to move to a better position after four years of work. Riddled with guilt and disappointment in myself, when work became readily available again in August, I frantically threw myself back in harder than ever before. In the past where I had turned down the occasional job to give myself some time to relax or in order to make it to a social outing with friends, I now accepted every job thrown my way, only declining those that would make me double-book myself. I earned a lot of money during those months as a result, and I was so happy to finally distance myself from the stigma of being “unemployed.” However, I once again failed to see that I was yet again sliding back into the lifestyle that had been slowly poisoning me for the past two years.

After essentially working non-stop from August to March, my body, mind, and soul soon returned right back to the brink of collapse. It wasn’t until then at my lowest point when I finally realized how I initially went from working to sustain myself in order to write, to not writing at all and only working to sustain myself to work even more. It was truly scary to see myself fall victim to a brutal cycle of unfulfilling work that could have trapped me for years to come if I hadn’t broken free first. That’s when I realized that my lifestyle was personally unsustainable, and that something had to change.

Henceforth, I’ve made the difficult decisions to both transition out of film freelancing and to soon return home to live with my father. At the end of April, the homeowner of the townhouse my roommate and I had been living in for close to three years gave us our 30-days-notice to vacate, as they no longer wished to rent but to sell the property. As my roommate had been planning on finding a place of his own with his girlfriend for quite some time, we split amicably at the end of last month in May and I’ve since moved into a temporary apartment with a friend who has traveled back to Maryland for seasonal work.

Regarding the change in my career, I’ve been looking into applying for writing positions for something that I’ve grown to enjoy over the past few years, which is to write reviews for media such as film, anime, and videogames. This of course is not what I truly want to do in life, but I think that because it actually involves writing, it would be both good practice in terms of practicing my writing and experience in terms of resume-building. Furthermore, a stable “9-5″ job as such would be good for me, I think, as it would introduce some desperately needed structure back into my life. Being a freelancer was definitely fun as I had the power to choose my own schedule, but it unfortunately fostered a lot of laziness and procrastination when I wasn’t completely burnt out.

I’ve shared with you all this information, a great deal of it being very personal, in the hopes that it helps you better understand who I am as a person and what I’ve been going through these past four years.

I understand that my word may be difficult to trust due to my history, but I sincerely wish to let you all know from the bottom of my heart that I do plan on continuing writing The White Rose of Vermilion until it’s completed. My fears and insecurities may have alienated me from that promise, but not once did I ever entertain the idea of fully dropping the story. And I promise you, I never will. It most likely will not further my career in any way, bring any revenue in, and will continue to consume a great deal of my precious free time—yet I still choose to pursue continuing it because I can’t see a future where I don’t finish it.

It is after all my most cherished project; the reason that I was able to truly find my calling as an aspiring writer, its success also ultimately being the proof to my mother that I had some skill as a budding writer, who then gave me her full blessings to pursue it as a career. But most important of all is that it’s the reason why I was able to experience first-hand one of the most important and beautiful discoveries in my entire life. That being the incredible phenomenon of how art is like a beacon—its bright light is powerful enough to reach out and inspire others to create art of their own. From Monty Oum to Nancy Phetchareune to myself, I was blessed enough to see readers create wonderful fanart to show me or tell me in a review that reading my story had inspired them to create something of their own.

I am officially leaving behind my prolonged hiatus and returning to working on The White Rose of Vermilion. While I am extremely hesitant to even estimate when the next chapter will be published, please know that I am genuinely trying to leave behind my habits of old and returning to a more consistent schedule.

The White Rose of Vermilion will return in:

Arc II, Chapter Twenty-Seven: Stranger in the Night

#TWRoV #The White Rose of Vermilion

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oumaheroes · 3 years

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Earthbound: Gabriel’s Story

Written for @needcake, whose wonderful and ongoing encouragement has spurred me to explore new directions.

Context: Hundreds of years after the fall of Earth, mankind is slowly starting to return. Some people have a stronger urge to return than others, confused by fragments of memories from a life already lived.

Word Count: 3570

Characters: Portugal

Arthur’s story can be found here.

Matthew’s story can be found here.

---

Gabriel is six. He’s at the doctor’s, which he doesn’t think that he deserves, and to protest this offense he does not answer when he is spoken to.

‘Gabriel? Can you answer some questions for me?’

The lady doctor looks nice enough; she doesn’t look scary but that’s not the point and Gabriel presses his lips together and picks up a plastic shape. It’s solid and brightly coloured and he has some like this at home. He likes to build with them, usually, when he can get them from the other kids for long enough, and on the rare occasions he’s left alone with them undisturbed he builds high high towers and pretends they’re castles.

He turns this one, red and smooth, over in his hands and lays it on the small plastic table he is knelt in front of with finality. It will be a part of a dungeon.

‘He’s always like this,’ His foster mummy Anita speaks from behind him, over his head, ‘he has these funny moods where he won’t speak at all, and then when he’s not eating it just gets worse. Never had a kid like him.’

Gabriel feels his presence swallowed softly underneath her words as the conversation passes over and around him as if he were not there. He picks up another shape. This one is round at the edges and is blue. It can go at the top.

The Doctor gently taps the table by his elbow. He turns to find her crouched next to him; eyes slightly too wide behind large glasses. She smiles, ‘What are you building?’

He shrugs.

‘Ah,’ She ponders the beginnings of his construction with interest, ‘Well, the biggest I’ve seen someone build with these is about this big,’ she gestures with her hands to her chest and Gabriel is forced to look at her.

That is quite high.

‘I can go bigger.’

The doctor raises an eyebrow sceptically, ‘I don’t know,’ she says, ‘the girl who built it didn’t have to go home for dinner.’

‘I don’t have to go home for dinner,’ Gabriel retorts, immediately. Mummy Anita scoffs and Gabriel flushes, looking away.

‘Do you not like dinner?’ the doctor prompts, softly.

Gabriel shrugs again.

‘I don’t like Option 3,’ the doctor says. She reaches under the table and picks up another shape -yellow, a triangle- and puts it near him. Might be a good turret ceiling, if they leave him alone to build high enough, ‘that’s what I hate. But my favourite is Option 17.’

‘I don’t like any of them.’

‘No? You must like one of them, there are so many!’

Gabriel shakes his head and continues to stack shapes, ‘they all taste funny.’

‘Funny?’ the doctor glances at Mummy Anita who shrugs.

‘None of the other kids say that. We’ve had the machine checked out- I eat from it. It’s fine. Even tried him on other machines but he says they all taste funny.’

The doctor looks back at him and he tries to look unbothered by their discussion, ‘Why do you think food from meal machines tastes funny? What’s strange about the food?’

It’s an easy enough question, but one that Gabriel can’t really answer- not even to himself.

The best way he can describe it is that food from machines just tastes wrong.

All meals come from food machines. They’re in every home and school and all taste the same; a catalogue copy of meals for everyone to have. But there’s a dryness to everything, something that sticks bland and metallic in his mouth and no matter which out of the many hundreds of options he tries, Gabriel hates them all. There’s something wrong about them, he thinks, something unnatural that he never wants to taste, no matter how used to it he knows he should be. Food from machines is all he’s ever eaten.

They don’t grow things on his colony; vegetables or fruits or grain. There’s no room in the towering stacks of buildings, stretching into the dusty orange sky. The colony is a jumble of things, a jungle bleached colourless and lifeless despite the scattering of people that scrabbled through its warrens.

There is no room for fields here. No farms for cattle to roam. The machines feed them: food materialised from the collective memory of humanity. Gabriel has heard in the playground at school that other human colonies, the ones further off into space where their communications cannot reach, make their own food from scratch, like the people of the olden times of Earth. This seems bizarre to him. What difference would it make, if you made a meal from things instead of a machine? All of their neighbouring colonies do the same as they do and this is all anyone of them have ever known.

Either way, the taste is lifeless and empty so Gabriel avoids eating as much as possible, giving in only when his tummy hurts with an ache that needs to be filled with something, anything, before it will think of going away.

He doesn’t know how to put this into words, so he turns away and adds another block to his tower, hoping that the adults will leave him alone. The doctor on his side sighs and taps something into her e-tab, looking back over at Mummy Anita.

The conversation begins again, over his head, and Gabriel slips away.

When Gabriel is thirteen when he realises that something about him isn’t quite right. It’s not his problem with food, although that has never improved, things taste as stilted now as they ever have done. No matter what meal option he tries, and no matter from which machine, there is the same blandness to everything, a cotton covering that prevents him from tasting what everyone else says he should.

But lack of taste is the least of his concerns.

The word most used to describe him by adults is ‘unfocused.’

This isn’t something he thinks is fair, but he understands how they think that, he supposes. He can often be found staring out of a window or escaping off into space, eyes glassy and face slack. He doesn’t agree with the term ‘unfocused’ because Gabriel is very focused on doing just that.

Escaping.

It is easy. So very, very easy. Like a quick breath in, he can switch off today effortlessly and take himself away somewhere, mind’s eye overlaying reality to wash his surrounds bright and true and better. He can take himself to a place so perfect it can only exist in his mind- soft sandy beaches in front of scrubby mountainsides that soar and roll up and down in sharp curves, all under a sky so blue it burns. Cyan rivers wend down corridors and curl around the legs of his classmates, a cliff face leans out of the drop of a window, a dark cupboard hides the maw of the unknown- damp caves that drip drip drip with depth and cool his older, sun-burnt skin.

If he closes his eyes and truly does focus, he can go even further- bite down and taste Brazilian gold, hard and cold as it hits his teeth to send shivers of warning up his spine. A dropped pencil or a creak of a floorboard snaps into the crackle of a fire, hot and close and his mouth waters with the promise of flame kissed meat and the smell of woodsmoke.

As much as he enjoys this, he realises it is a problem because it is not something that anyone else does. Not anymore, at least, and never as well. Children used to play pretend, of course, when they were younger- it was normal. Gabriel always seemed to be the best at it, somehow, better able to call to mind a place for their games with a vivacity no one else could hope to compare to and it was fun- something he excelled in. He made all of their games, a playmaker in setting the stage and lifting another world to blanket the dusty playground and wrap them all in colours.

But his friends have grown out of such things. Their thirst for the imaginary cooled and then tapered off entirely whilst Gabriel’s hunger for it only grew and grew until he could travel miles in the blink of an eye, drumming fingers playing a marching song to set the pace and propel him onwards.

Why be here when he can be elsewhere? Why would he ever choose otherwise, when elsewhere was a paradise unlike any other. Any colour, any texture, any smell or taste, and all blended and whirled together to spill a storm of yearning through his waking days.

Maybe he could write, he thinks. He is sixteen and thinks that, maybe this is why he does this. Maybe this is something that is normal after all, if he can put what he is feeling to paper and share it with others. If it is productive, it is good, after all. If it creates something tangible, if it is something that others can use and enjoy then it is something worthy; it has value. When it is just for him, it is strange; adults watching with dark and wary eyes, muttering condemnations that shackle him with labels.

It is the way of things.

But writing is harder than it looks. Words only describe so much and are too flat, too rigid to encompass the entirety of what he feels and sees. On paper, the world of his daydreams regresses to shapes like the coloured blocks he used to love as a child- useful for building something, yes, but ultimately something controlled and solid, changeable but unmoving and limited. Gabriel’s imagination isn’t like this, it is constantly new and fluid, forever showing him more and more and more with a detail words can never capture, never truly express.

He dreams of orchards, of fruit so orange and full and clear to him that he can see the speckles of dust in the dips of its skin, the dew that sits on the leaves in the morning. He feels himself, brown, large hand scarred with mistakes and history, close about it and pull; feels the tension as it resists on the branch before a gasp of a break. The leaves of the tree swing back and the fruit is full and firm and he can taste it, taste how full it will be when he peels back the skin and bites down to flood his mouth with sweetness.

He feels air that is cool and tastes of salt, wind that pushes and tugs at his clothes, of a floor of wood that moves and bucks in angry waters of grey and blue. Unknown jungles where the air is thick and hot, arid plains where the sun scorches the rocks, and damp misty hills that whistle ancient secrets across the miles and twist his heart until it breaks.

What is that.

Why is that.

He doesn’t know.

When Gabriel is eighteen, the foster home he is in releases him.

‘You can stay, if you want,’ Anita gives him a measured look, up and down, from beneath her eyelashes, ‘but you’ll need to start paying rent. Benefits stop for you now so I can’t keep you about for free.’

Gabriel blinks at her, ‘But, I don’t have a job.’

Anita’s face remains impassive, ‘Then you’ll have to find one.’

‘How?’ he is angry, all of a sudden. Older children had never stuck about after their eighteenth birthday but he always imagined that they had left of their own accord, that they couldn’t wait to leave. Now he wonders how many of them were forced out, where they went, ‘I’ve never had one before.’

‘Your school should do something about helping you find one. Or, here,’ she reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out her e-tab. The paint of the old thing is chipped but it still works; the screen flashes bright and the contrast with the dark office room washes her face flat and white in the glow. After a moment, she holds out the tab to him, ‘there are some programmes about. Take a look at them and sign up to some.’

Gabriel doesn’t take it and her arm hangs there, suspended and stiff between them. Eventually, she sets down the tab and pushes it towards him, ‘I’ll give you two months, if you want to stay. You should be able to find something in that time.’

‘What do I do if I can’t find anything?’ there is a tightness in his chest. He does not like it here, does not really even like her but the taste of betrayal is thick on his tongue and catches in the back of his throat to prick at his lungs, ‘what do I do? This isn’t fair.’

Anita looks at him, hard and cold, ‘Life isn’t fair. The quicker you learn that, the better off you’ll be.’ With that she motions with her head towards the door behind him and tabs on her computer, bringing it back to life.

The conversation is over.

Gabriel clenches his jaw, spins about and opens the door. The e-tab he leaves on her desk.

He moves his way through the house and out to the street. Night has fallen and the glow from their fat, orange sun hangs warm and faded behind the horizon. It looks like a painting; abstract- not real. The cut of the skyline is wrong, too sharp and small and alien all at once and he hurts with the urge to close his eyes and drift away on the tide of his dreams to somewhere better.

He can’t. He needs to do something, needs to go somewhere, needs to eat. Food machines are everywhere, but they cost money that he doesn’t have and the fear of hunger for the tasteless pushes him into the tangle of streets.

Gabriel is twenty-two. He found a job, eventually. It was the spur of the moment, out of desperation, but it’s not all that bad, in the end. He is a builder.

The monotony of manual work allows him to loosen his mind, lift himself out of his body as he lays dun-coloured bricks down in careful order, one by one by one. He builds a home under his hands but his mind is away, far far into grasses so tall they tickle his cheeks and he reconstructs himself into a reality he can control.

This brick can be the dungeon. This brick can be a turret. Gabriel can be elsewhere.

This is enough. It is enough, he tells himself. It is more than enough; if he gets better, he can actually do that, actually build the castles of his dreams. Maybe he could be an artist, or an architect, maybe he can design a whole new colony that has fancy machines to replicate wind or bodies of water to recreate a sea deep and blue enough to have come straight from the Earth itself.

When he thinks about this too deeply, it hurts.

The ancient planet sings to him from the files of history, a stunning colourful thing that hangs suspended in time. Oh, what he would give to be there. To see the oceans and feel the grasses of fields that are somehow so very green. What he would give for the possibility see it, just once. Any part of it.

The pictures he’s seen, the videos and the stories that are collected into binary are the only things left of humanity’s original home- something so colourful and incredible that it is hauntingly impossible. Gabriel’s dreams must be modelled on it, he knows, they must have a grain of truth in them because only his imagination can compare to the flat, coded remains of Earth. Nothing man-made can be so beautiful, nothing built by mortal hands produce such unkempt beauty.

Gabriel feels like he was born in the wrong time, made and moulded to explore something older and wilder where he can go and go and go and always see something new, unending and natural. This lost opportunity, this missed moment and incorrect assignment whips a storm in his heart and brings tears to his eyes but passes, eventually. He is not a man for regret, not a man to dwell on what he cannot have and he consoles himself with the idea that maybe, one day, he can help to build a new world that rivals the one in his dreams.

When Gabriel is twenty-four, one of the human colonies fails. As the colony collapses, life systems screaming into the vacuum, the population spills into the sky, desperate to get away however they can. As one of their closest neighbours, despite the distance, Gabriel’s planet catches a lot of them.

They arrive in huge patchwork ships- cobbled together with speed, not precision. They’re falling apart and can barely cling on and the people they contain are scared, panicked things; exhausted by the constant and very near threat of death they press beseechingly into their new home. His planet is full, really, too full to take on so many but they have nowhere else to go, no place else to stop and so they flock into streets and public buildings, cawing for food and water and housing.

As a builder, Gabriel is in high demand and is immediately put to work. Hastily constructed houses spring up, growing the towns outwards and into the desert. There are no domes here- Gabriel’s planet can sustain itself and for the new arrivals this is bewildering.

Gabriel begins to talk to one of them. She is old, feather light skin wrinkled and soft, and she flutters like a bird about the building site, eager to offer help in any way she can. It’s sweet and Gabriel softens to her instantly, sensing she feels a displacement similar to what he does. A kinship of the unbelonging.

Every afternoon she arrives and as soon as his shift ends, he lowers himself to the ground and goes in search of her. They take tea together in the shade and talk existence to rights.

‘You remind me of my grandson,’ she says one day. Gabriel avoids talking about her planet or her family, or anything to do with what brought her here. He does not know what parts of it will cause her pain and he has no wish to do that to her. She must feel enough when she is alone, he knows, when she has time to mourn what she has lost and it is not his place to bring that sadness to other aspects of her day. She never offers anything and so the subject lies between them, an elephant in the void of space.

When she says this, then, he is surprised and curious, ‘Oh? How so?’

She smiles, ‘He’s a dreamer too. Always thinking of things when he should be focusing. He makes a similar face to the one you do.’

Gabriel blushes, ashamed to have been caught drifting off whilst in her company.

She sees his embarrassment and laughs, ‘Oh no, don’t worry- it’s fine. I used to love watching him float away somewhere. I used to say he was going off to Neverland.’

‘That’s a nice description for it,’ it’s an old Earthen story Gabriel was fond of growing up- a tale of a journey to somewhere else, ‘What was his name?’

‘Is,’ she corrects firmly and Gabriel nods apologetically, ‘Is. His name is Peter.’

‘Peter,’ the name fits a fellow daydreamer. The boy who never grew up. Gabriel decides to ask, tentatively, ‘Where is he?’

The old lady looks wistful, ‘Earth,’ she says with a sigh, ‘He and his parents managed to get passage to Earth but I wasn’t able to. We’re too far out to send any communication- I don’t want to think about what they believe became of me.’

Gabriel blinks once. Twice. Tries to speak, ‘Earth?’

She frowns at him, ‘Yes, don’t you know?’ Realisation hits and she shakes her head, ‘Oh, I forget that you don’t hear much this far out. Earth was declared habitable a few months ago. They’re starting a founding colony there to see if humans can survive there again.’

‘Wh- what?’

She looks at him, concerned, ‘Are you alright? You’ve gone awfully pale.’

Gabriel can’t really understand her, her voice feels like its coming from one end of an endless tunnel and his heart is hammering too loudly in his chest to focus on her. He stands, shaky, and she clutches at his shirt hem, ‘Gabriel? Gabriel, what’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know,’ his heart pounds canon fire, a boom boom boom that disorientates him. He smells smoke, smells fire, smells death, ‘I thought- I thought it was gone, Earth was gone.’

‘It was, but they travelled to investigate about a decade ago and they’ve been researching it- dear please sit down.’

She tugs at him but he shakes his head, a ghost of understanding in his mind that slips away like silk, ‘Can we go? Who can go- can I go?’

She looks scared, ‘Yes, but there’s a waiting list, you need to get your name down- Gabriel!’

---

He doesn’t wait for her to finish. He takes off into the centre of town to the public buildings, pushing his way through crowds to get there faster. He won’t waste one second more, will grab hold of what acutely feels like a delicate second chance with both hands and won't dare to let go.

AN:

This was my first time writing Portugal as a character with a voice and it was both challenging and very fun to do. There are so many amazing Portugal writers out there to inspire me and I hope I have done him justice for any of you who read this!

The full fic can be found here on A03. It doesn’t include Portugal, but explores this AU a whole lot more with a different cast of characters.

Thanks for reading!

#aph portugal #hws portugal #hetalia #aph #hws #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #my writing

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melanielocke · 3 years

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Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 10

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

CW: Discussion of toxic relationship

Lucie was under the impression Alastair liked Thomas, but Lucies texts only made him more nervous. Even if Alastair smiled back, even if some things he said could hint at romantic feelings, Thomas had no clue how to make a move on people, much less Alastair. After dinner, they talked a bit more, about books, history, places they wished to travel. Alastair told him that he’d once read Machiavelli’s the Prince for comfort, but had since replaced it with Marx’ the Communist Manifesto. Thomas, who read mostly fiction, found it hard to imagine those books as something one read for comfort, but he promised he’d give the Communist Manifesto a try.

‘My ex recommended the Prince,’ Alastair explained. ‘In retrospect, the book suits him pretty well. It’s about power, manipulation, and he was all about that.’

‘As in, he manipulated you?’ Thomas asked.

‘He wants to get into politics, and I think he cares more about holding a position of power than about doing what’s best for the country. But he also manipulated me,’ Alastair said, showing no emotion. ‘He was very obsessed with his own social status and image, and would have done anything to improve that. I would not have reflected well on his image, so he kept me a secret and made me believe it was what was best for me.’

Thomas was certain he would be a better partner to Alastair than his exif they were in a relationship, but figured that was a pretty low bar. He didn’t know much about relationships, had never been in one, and wasn’t sure he knew how any of that worked, or how to be with someone with such a bad past experience. He didn’t want to hurt Alastair by accident. Perhaps his parents had some advice, but then he’d first have to tell them he liked boys. Which he planned to, but he had not yet figured out the right words, the right occasion.

‘How did you come out to your parents?’ he asked Alastair.

His parents were outside, they wouldn’t overhear. Thomas hoped they wouldn’t walk in out of a sudden, but if they did… Well, then at least they’d know and Thomas wouldn’t have to prepare a speech.

‘I only came out to my mother and aunt Risa,’ Alastair said. ‘Not to my father, nor do I care to.’

‘So, did you prepare a speech or anything?’ Thomas asked.

‘I did, because I suspected my mother and aunt Risa might not understand or know much about gay people, so I’ve mostly been educating them on various sexualities and gender identities. Risa actually discovered she is asexual and aromantic after I explained those concepts to her. Why do you ask?’

Thomas turned red, he laughed nervously. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell my parents I’m gay, but haven’t found the right time, or figured out how to tell them.’

‘You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. Do you want them to know?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas considered Alastair’s question for a moment. ‘Yes, I do. I think it would be easier if they knew and I would rather tell them before I am in a relationship instead of introducing a boyfriend. Since that would be awkward for him as well. Mainly, I just want them to know but I don’t want an awkward conversation.’

‘I think your problem is that you’re too determined to do it perfect,’ Alastair said. ‘Your parents seem very open and accepting, I don’t think you have to worry.’

‘No, I know that,’ Thomas said.

He felt stupid. Alastair must have had a much harder time telling people, he hadn’t known beforehand that his mother would be accepting. Thomas was fairly certain his parents would love him no matter what, and yet here he was complaining to Alastair about how difficult he found it to come out.

‘I know it can still be scary,’ Alastair said. ‘I was fairly certain Cordelia wouldn’t mind at all, yet I postponed telling her for a long time. Of course in my case it could have saved me a lot of misery, had I told her sooner.’

‘What do you mean?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized almost immediately after I told her that my ex boyfriend was treating me badly, when I did not. It took her a couple of weeks to convince me, but I realized she was right and then I broke up with him.’ Alastair paused. ‘It’s nice to have someone to talk about it. For a long time, I had only him and he actively discouraged me from telling anyone else.’

‘I’m guessing he wasn’t out?’ Thomas asked. ‘He thought being gay would reflect badly on him as a politician?’

‘No, I don’t think that was the problem. He was private about his sexuality, but I think his friends and family knew. I don’t blame him for that, I understand it’s not always easy to talk about and there can be consequences when people know. But I think in his case, he didn’t want people to know about me because I was so much younger, he probably knew grooming a teenager would reflect badly on him. He always said it was because I wasn’t out that he wanted to keep our relationship a secret, that he wanted to protect me from judgement, but I doubt that was true. I never wanted to be someone’s secret.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Wait, how much younger were you?’

‘Six years. I met him when I was fourteen and entered a relationship with him at sixteen.’

Then Alastair’s ex must have been twenty two at the time? Thomas, at eighteen, considered sixteen year old boys children and had no romantic interest in them. He preferred to look at boys his own age, maybe a little older. Despite being a year ahead in his education, Alastair was only a couple of months older than him. He couldn’t imagine being interested in a teenager when he was in his early twenties.

‘I didn’t realize at the time that the age difference was a red flag,’ Alastair explained. ‘I felt very mature, to have caught the attention of someone older. He told me, over and over, that I was very mature for my age, that he couldn’t believe I was still so young.’

Thomas suspected most teenagers would be flattered to be called mature, to be taken seriously by an adult. It was a vile sort of manipulation, to seek out someone young and vulnerable and isolated, someone who would easily fall for such compliments, only to take advantage of them and treat them badly.

‘How did you tell Cordelia?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized something was not right,’ Alastair said. ‘She realized I was sneaking out at night, that I was barely eating and losing weight because I was so nervous. She said I was “being even more difficult than usual, and that’s saying something”. So I told her not to worry about it and that I was just sneaking out to see my boyfriend. I said I’d wanted to tell her, but wasn’t sure yet if I was ready, and that he had recommended I don’t tell anyone yet. She started asking a lot of questions about my relationship. At first it was in a supportive way, what did he look like, what were his interests. She kind of freaked out when she learnt about the age gap, and the more she asked about how he treated me, the more concerned she became. She’s been very protective of me ever since.’

‘I’m so sorry. Not that it’s my fault, or there’s anything I could have done, but I’m just sorry. That it happened to you. I’m glad your sister is protective of you. As long as she’s not too protective, I mean,’ Thomas said. ‘I know from experience too much protection can be suffocating.’

A small smile appeared on Alastair’s face, and Thomas realized he so rarely did. He had a very pretty smile that lit up his dark eyes.

‘I found it confusing most of all. As the oldest sibling, I always thought it was my duty to protect her, not the other way around. But Cordelia is fierce, and I love that about her. This one time we ran into him while shopping, not long after the break up. He tried to approach me while Cordelia was getting us ice cream, and when she returned and saw him she threatened to expose him as an abuser and child groomer on all her social media channels if he didn’t back off.’

‘Isn’t what he did illegal anyway?’ Thomas asked. ‘Since you were a minor? Couldn’t you go to the police if he kept harassing you?’

‘Age of consent is sixteen, so even if he was much older it was legal for him to have sex with me,’ Alastair explained. ‘It would be illegal if he was my teacher or in any way in a position of power over me, but he was not. He must have been aware of how those laws work and I think perhaps he waited until I was sixteen so it would be legal.

Him harassing me might be enough to get a restraining order, but honestly I don’t trust the police to believe me over him. Besides, I have no intention of sharing something so personal with police officers. I expect them to not care at best and I think it is likely they will be racist and homophobic and will blame me for what happened.

Cordelia has enough followers on twitter and Instagram to get the story out if we wanted to and it’s a decent threat, but I’ve asked her not to.’

‘From what you’ve told me, he fully deserves to be exposed,’ Thomas said.

He was angry on Alastair’s behalf, and Thomas guessed Alastair was right that as an Iranian gay man he could not trust the police to help him.

‘It’s not so much about whether he deserves it or not. I’m still processing what happened, and I don’t want to be judged by strangers on the internet. I consented to everything sexual we did even if it was coerced, and not everyone will understand all the subtle manipulation involved. I know people will claim it was all my fault, and if I didn’t want it I should have just said no. Or that after breaking up I decided to ruin his life by telling lies. He has powerful friends, I do not. I admire the bravery of the people who expose rapists and abusers on the internet, but I can’t put myself through that right now.’

Thomas felt nauseous, the idea of Alastair being manipulated into having sex with a much older man was difficult for him to process. It made him angry, Alastair had given this man everything, had loved him. How could someone have taken advantage of such a beautiful and passionate man? People often accused Thomas of being too kind, too compassionate, of trying to empathize too much with people who did bad things, but he was fairly certain that if he ever encountered the person who did this to Alastair, he would feel nothing but anger and hatred towards him. And he’d make sure whoever it was would never hurt Alastair again.

He wanted to show support, he wanted to love Alastair, but wasn’t sure how. He knew it was a big step for him, to open up so much, he knew Alastair was very private and trusted him as much as he knew how to trust. Thomas was terrified of letting him down, of breaking his trust.

‘Did he at least back off after that threat?’ Thomas asked.

‘I haven’t seen him in real life again, but he has been texting me until I blocked his number. He is part of the reason I came here, something I needed to get away from. You have provided a decent distraction and I am grateful. I have never… had a friend like you.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel about that statement. He liked being trusted, he loved that Alastair valued him, but at the same time he wanted to be more to him than just a friend. But Alastair needed a friend, Thomas told himself. And perhaps Alastair would fall in love with him over time, perhaps someday they could be together. If not, being his friend would still be worth it.

‘Now, would you want to play another game of ludo before I return to the Herondales? I am certain the dice will be on my side this time,’ Alastair said.

The dice were not on Alastair’s side. The difference in rolls were at the very least statistically improbable, but Thomas wasn’t great at math. He won by a landslide.

‘You’re older than me,’ Thomas offered as an explanation.

Alastair frowned. ‘Only by a few months, and what does that have to do with anything?’

‘I have a theory that dice games like this one favor the young,’ Thomas explained. ‘I used to play this game with my sisters and I always did better. Of course, Barbara would usually let me win with games, but that’s difficult with a game like this. But most of my friends are younger than me, and with Lucie I don’t have nearly this amount of luck. And when I played with my younger cousin Alexander, my rolls are as pathetic as yours. Of course, that’s for the best because he’s three and he throws the game across the room when he loses.’

‘Nothing you just said makes sense,’ Alastair pointed out. ‘The dice can’t tell how old you are.’

‘Perhaps there’s a little spirit in there,’ Thomas said with a smile. ‘Something that realizes if little Alexander loses, painful things will happen to it. It probably dreads the day Alexander will play against children his age.’

Thomas guessed that might not be the best idea, at that age all children were sore losers. Most three year olds didn’t play together yet anyway, it was more parallel play what they did. Alastair left after losing another game, and at the end Thomas might have convinced him of his theory.

‘I’ll meet you here after breakfast for another walk,’ Alastair said with a small smile that made Thomas’ heart race. He hoped he wasn’t showing that. Would Alastair suspect Thomas liked him, now that he knew Thomas was gay? He wasn’t sure if he wanted Alastair to. If Alastair returned his feelings, sure. But if not, what if Alastair would retreat in his shell again, what if he didn’t want to be his friend anymore?

‘See you tomorrow,’ Thomas said. ‘Good night.’

Thomas didn’t sleep well that night. He dreamt of a castle, surrounded by dark forest. He didn’t know where he was, or what was happening. On a surface level, it didn’t even seem so scary but a voice inside Thomas was telling him to run as fast as he could to get away from there, yet he couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure what he was running from exactly, but he woke up drenched in sweat at six in the morning. He didn’t feel rested exactly, but didn’t think he’d fall asleep again, so instead he changed the sheets on his bed and took a quick shower before putting on some clothes.

It would probably be some time until Alastair showed up, so Thomas made breakfast, and took his time to eat before settling in the garden. Gnomes were early risers, and Thomas liked watching them run around. Here they weren’t used to being seen though, and any indication that Thomas did see resulted in them running away and hiding, peeking out of the bushes on occasion to see if he was still there. Thomas put out a plate of cookies, perhaps they would become more trusting to humans who could see them overtime.

He sat there, reading a book Lucie had given him a while back. Ever since Thomas had told her he liked boys, Lucie had recommended books about queer men and right now he was reading Winter’s Orbit, a science fiction story about two men in an arranged political marriage. The amount of miscommunication and hopeless pining was almost painful to read, but also enjoyable. Thomas guessed he wasn’t much better, he still had no idea how to tell Alastair how he felt. Hopefully, he could finish the book before dying, he desperately wanted to know if these two could figure out their feelings for each other before it was too late.

‘What are you reading?’

Thomas looked up to see Alastair, dressed in a black Metallica t shirt and black jeans. He summarized the book he was reading.

‘It was a gift from Lucie,’ he said.

‘It sounds interesting,’ Alastair said. ‘I like books with some political drama. Can I borrow it when you finish?’

‘Sure. And in case I don’t get to finish it, I’ll write you into my will and leave you this book.’

Alastair groaned. ‘Please do not make jokes about you dying.’

Thomas sometimes felt like making jokes about it was the only way to cope. In reality, the idea that he was very likely to die was terrifying, even if the people around him kept assuring him he was going to be fine.

‘Sorry. I hope you’ll like this book. Although… one of the main characters was abused by a previous partner. Would that be an issue?’

Alastair tilted his head. ‘I think then maybe I should wait until I read it. That’s difficult with reading fiction, not all authors offer content warnings and going in unprepared can be devastating. When I know it’s coming… It’s easier, but I’m not sure if I want to do that right now solely to read a book.’

Thomas nodded. ‘I can imagine. If you want any books that don’t have topics that are triggering for you, I’ll try and see if I have anything. Or you can ask Lucie.’

‘I’ll think about it. Being able to read fiction while being prepared through content warnings is something I’m trying to work towards. No idea how long that will take, according to my therapist I’m too impatient. You coming? This early, there might still be some hedgehogs,’ Alastair said with a grin.

‘You really like hedgehogs,’ Thomas pointed out.

‘When I was a child I wanted one for a pet, but my parents didn’t think that was a good idea. Instead, I could have a goldfish. They’re very popular in Iran, people get them for the Persian new year celebration, Nowruz. People usually release them into a river or pond after the celebration, so that’s what Risa did. My parents weren’t too happy about it. At the time, I believed he would probably be happier there anyway than in a bowl, but it is likely he died within days. I don’t think it’s good for the environment either, and many Iranians are pushing back against the tradition because of that. Did you have pets growing up?’

‘Most of my childhood, because I was so sick, my parents didn’t think it was a good idea. They were afraid a pet might carry diseases I would be more vulnerable to,’ Thomas said. ‘But I hope I can adopt cats someday. And Barbara and Oliver have two guinea pigs.’

‘My cousin Jem has a cat,’ Alastair said. ‘Little beast hates everyone, but adores Jem.’

‘Do you see him often?’ Thomas asked. ‘Jem, I mean.’

‘Not really. My father never wanted him near our family, I think because he was afraid Jem would see right through him. But now that we don’t live with Father anymore, I see him occasionally. He offered me to come live with him, but I’m not sure. I still feel like I barely know him.’

They didn’t find any hedgehogs during their walk, presumably because the fog had gotten so thick they wouldn’t see any if they were there. Although Thomas was fairly certain they were taking the same route they had yesterday and during their first walk, everything looked different. He told himself it was probably the fog, but he couldn’t quite convince himself.

‘I don’t remember these ruins,’ Alastair said.

Thomas’ followed Alastair’s gaze and saw the ruins of a very old building. Of course, there were lots of old castles in Scotland, but Thomas hadn’t read anything about ruins in these woods.

‘Do you think we should take a look?’ he asked carefully. ‘I’m not seeing anything unusual.’

‘Apart from ruins that weren’t here yesterday?’

‘We must have taken a different path,’ Thomas said.

‘Sure,’ Alastair said and Thomas didn’t think he believed it. ‘Under normal circumstances, I would not take another step, but if we are to save your life we need information. Perhaps those ruins hold something of interest.’

#Thomas Lightwood #Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fic #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

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aurora-daily · 3 years

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AURORA

Interview by Stuart Williams for Euphoria Magazine (July 9th, 2021).

Norwegian songstress AURORA returns with brand new single “Cure for Me,” a glistening, message-driven piece that looks to set summer 2021 alight. “The ‘Cure for Me’ single was actually born two years ago,” she tells EUPHORIA in an exclusive interview. “I was in Australia on tour and then instead of having a day off in between the gigs, I asked my drummer and co-producer Magnus if we could rent a studio for a day and have some fun. I had this theme I wanted to get out of my head [hums melody]. I just really wanted to make a song with this ugly theme and we made it — my team kind of discovered it a few years later and said, ‘Ah, this is lovely, we should make it a single.’”

Speaking about the synth-laden track, AURORA finds herself reflecting on a controversial practice evident around the world. “It was originally inspired by those countries in the world that still forbid being gay and also the countries where conversion therapy is still allowed,” she says. “I think even in Norway it’s allowed — that’s the main reason I wrote this song. I was like, ‘I want to make a fun, celebration song about I don’t need a cure for me, I don’t need it, I’m perfectly fine.’ It’s absurd how the world can ever think that people will ever need a cure for love. Then I also know that it can mean a few different things, which I’m excited about, but it’s mainly the fact that it’s very easy to make people believe that there is something wrong with them. People tend to go to that fact so quickly — it takes so little before we’re like, ‘Oh, something is really wrong with me. I didn’t react the same way that they did, I must be fucked up.’ Or, ‘I don’t look like them; OK something is wrong.’ You know, we think something is wrong with us all the time and the media is telling us we’re not good enough. Everything all the time is trying to make us think that we’re insane. That’s kind of sad isn’t it? So it is kind of an opposite thing.”

With “Cure for Me” evoking a deepened understanding of an important subject to the artist, AURORA finds herself looking inward. “I am very lucky because I’ve never been that affected,” she shares. “I’ve been told many times in my life that, ‘You’re a bit [makes cuckoo bird sound].’ I’m very little Norwegian in many areas; I’m very Norwegian in some. It’s a very strange culture here and if you are very open, emotional, impulsive, and if you have a bit of a different brain, [it] doesn’t take much before you get aware even as a child that, ‘Oh, I am a bit different’ and it messes with your head a bit. It messed a bit with my mind in the beginning when I first started noticing it. I’ve never really cared and I don’t care now — I find so much joy and liberation in simply existing in the way that fits me the most. That’s a joy I find hard to let go of. We’re so diverse and that’s the whole point. That’s the foundation in our species that we are all different and we still manage to twist it around and make people feel bad about it.”

With the pandemic pushing live music events back further and further, the singer is eager to explore the track in a live setting. Speaking about her feelings from the release of the new single, AURORA says, “I wish I was nervous because I love being nervous, it’s like being in love isn’t it? But I am not nervous, I rarely am — it seems like a waste to me to be nervous about something I can’t control. But when I’m done with it, I need to just release it and it’s out of my hands, out of mind and out of sight — it belongs to the world. So no, I’m not nervous at all, but I am very excited. It’s always interesting and a fun experiment to see how people react when you do something a little different. It varies a lot what people think about it, so that’s very interesting to watch.”

Describing the process of creating the track, she says, “I like experimenting with the people you have around you. I like using the people I love and I like working with close people, you know. I feel like you don’t need to look out and search for the big names out there when you have talented friends, and you can just make music with them instead. Magnus is very good — I love working with him because he doesn’t write lyrics and interfere too much. I can’t write with anyone because I don’t like it so much, so it’s nice for me to be able to write and do what I want. When we produce the music we are sometimes very on the same page and sometimes we disagree. It’s fun to either fight for your opinion or learn that you were wrong, and I love that. We just have fun.”

Six years ago saw singer-songwriter AURORA release “Runaway,” the opener to All My Demons Greeting Me as a Friend, an album that saw her career catapulted into the stratosphere. Today “Runaway” has 275 million streams on Spotify, 140 million views on YouTube, and is rising week over week in the Official Singles Chart Top 100. Not only this, the track has also been given new life on social media app TikTok and is being streamed 2 million times daily. The roots of “Runaway” emerged at 11 years old, AURORA says. “I often think about that — of course our mind I guess perceives the past like, ‘Oh my God, it went so quick’ and I can remember things from when I wrote the song when I was 11 and now I’m over 10 years older than that. It is weird but I guess I remember the times, I’ve been really depressed two times in my life and then time moves so slowly that it’s exhausting and suffocating, so I feel like it’s a very good sign when you feel like time has gone past.”

It’s hard to believe that in 2015 the track found its way to the ears of a then-12-year-old Billie Eilish. It arguably led to Eilish starting her music journey — a career that has made her a global phenomenon. The track, AURORA says, has found a brand new life out in the world. “It has lived its life and therefore the success ‘Runaway’ is achieving I don’t manage to take it personally because it’s not me anymore, you know?” she says. “It’s sort of like, it’s a baby and every song is a child when you make them and it’s best part: making the child. It’s the most fun in every way, I think, in all possible metaphors. But I think when you raise the song, it’s a teenager or an adult and you just have to let them go and let them live their best life out there.”

Reflecting further on a younger version of herself, AURORA explores a very different mindset from that age and then now. “I remember when I first started writing I was really aware and had this epiphany that, ‘Oh my God, music can help with so much and music can speak about the unspoken. It can explain the unexplainable and put words into these impossible emotions,’” she says. “It has to do with being human. I took music very seriously, music was always very serious for me — very emotional and very explosive. Like a medicine, but I took it really seriously and I have so many sad songs. They all have a little light in them, I don’t manage to bring out sadness unless there is light to complement it I guess. I have so many sad songs and with time I kind of learnt that, ‘Oh my God, there is a whole world out there and people also need to dance and have fun in this life.’ I kind of learnt as I grew older that I can write songs that are fun and I can address things in the world that I love and hate, and I can speak up. Music can be much now: it can be a political force, it can be an emotional force and a release. Now I’m just enjoying all the signs of it. But it’s changed a lot, I’m more open now to what music can be, which is delightful.”

The human experience is a theme AURORA touches on throughout her musical output, however the physical act of producing art has been a huge outlet for the artist during this time. “I am very comfortable with this staying-inside-being-anti-social situation,” she shares. “It’s very good for me and I’m actually enjoying it quite a lot. Even though I can feel it in the people that [there is] this itch under the skin. I can feel the itch for things to change and go back to normal, but I’m also really enjoying things as they are now. I’ve been painting quite a lot. I always find it very intimidating to paint big pictures, obviously you know, it’s very easy to make a small piece of art, for me at least. I’ve been trying to make a really big one so it’s really big, and it’s very scary; but it’s very soothing. Painting to me is like the same as music but the opposite, because it’s an outlet for the art and it’s quiet and serene. While music is very explosive for me so it’s a very nice thing to have in my life. I feel very balanced.”

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #cure for me #new album #magnus

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bookaddict24-7 · 3 years

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I said at the beginning of the year that I would share my reviews more on my blog instead of just on Instagram and Goodreads. I’ve been reading a lot so far this year, so my reviews will be delayed on here.

Friend me on Goodreads here to read my reviews in real-time!

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107. Amari and the Night Brothers by B.B. Alston--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Wow, this book had more of a punch than I anticipated! I think books like this one are super important--not just because of the content, but because of the audience it's geared towards. Young readers now are learning more and more about society than a lot of us did at their age, so I think it's perfectly fitting that a book like this one is out there for kids to devour. One of the things I liked the most about this book was the allegory of racism in a magical community. Usually in fantastical novels for kids (older ones, anyway), there's this belief that no matter what you look like, the moment you go to another magical place all of your worries about racism goes away because MAGIC. But in this one, not only did our MC have to contend with the racism in her normal life, she had to face more racism in her new life, just with a new title. So many of the actions taken against her by those around her, and the comments (like putting her brother on a pedestal because he was the star of the school and calling him the exception to the rule, or one girl actively telling her that "You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but not the ghetto out of the girl) really made me think that this poor kid went from one ignorant situation to another. Not only is she trying to find her brother and solve the mystery of his disappearance, but she also has to deal with racist and ignorant people around her. Imagine calling a child evil because of something they can't control. Imagine going out of your way to ensure that they fail. Imagine you or your child hearing the things this child heard while trying to just do her best in a system that's always been made to be against her, both in the human world and in the magic world. Imagine, imagine, imagine. Another thing I loved about this book was her resilience. She is brave, and smart, and has such a big future in this new world of hers. I'm so excited to read the rest of this series as it comes out. This book was POWERFUL and I highly recommend it. Not just for the young readers in your life, but I think parents and other readers would highly benefit from reading Amari's story.

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108. Mindy Kim & the Yummy Seaweed Business by Lyla Lee--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Okay, this book was ADORABLE. I haven’t read a 6-8 book in a long time and I’m thankful to my friend on Instagram who recommended these books! Mindy has to deal with not only her grief about losing her mom and her dad’s busy schedule (as well as his own grief), but she’s also at a new school in a new State where she is the only Asian student. I’ve mentioned this in some of my most recent reviews, but I love that these important topics are being discussed in children’s books. We see moments of racism in this book where Mindy is left upset, even if she doesn’t fully understand just why certain comments and actions are so hurtful. And even if she doesn’t dwell on it, a parent reading this with their little one would notice and hopefully learn if they see their own behaviours mirrored in the actions of some of these adults. But we also see moments of kindness and love as a young girl tries her best to find ways to make her dad happy. Despite the heavier undertones in this book, there was an overall feel of sweetness and childhood innocence. The ability to apologize when you know you’re in the wrong, the innocence of emotions getting away from you, and the sweetness of a daughter loving her father. This was a great read and I highly recommend it for everyone, but especially the little ones in your life who will be entering situations where books like these and their lessons are really important.

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109. The Dead Zone by Stephen King--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one, I felt, held more of an emotional punch rather than a creepy feeling. I really enjoyed it! I loved the psychic angle and the MC proving the people who didn’t believe him or mocked wrong. Also, this was a King book that actually made me want to cry at the end. I didn’t give it a 5 because of some really slow moments. While I love that his stories always have a way of coming together at the end, certain scenes sometimes feel long, boring, or confusing. I’d recommend this for anyone who wants to read a King book that isn’t scary and if you’re a fan of 11/22/63!

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110. Takane & Hana Vol. 1 by Yuki Shiwasu--⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one took me a while to read. I found that I wasn’t really in the mood to read it every time I picked it up—which is so different from when I pick up a manga I really want to read. The story had some funny bits and the artwork was gorgeous, but it really bugged me how every new chapter re-introduced the love interest. Over and over and over again. I get it: he’s rich, arrogant, and an asshole. Can’t you trust us to remember these key personality traits? But it wasn’t even just that. We were constantly re-introduced to the premise of the story. I don’t know how common this is WITHIN the same volume, but I haven’t encountered it yet—and if I have, it wasn’t as annoying as this one. I’ll keep reading the story because I’m curious, but this first volume was a bit of a rougher read for me.

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111. You Have A Match by Emma Lord--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

I think the thing with this book is that the cover tells a different story than what really matters in this book. Yes, there’s a friends to more relationship in this, but the main storyline is about two girls who find out they’re sisters and are trying to solve that mystery. This isn’t a romcom—the romance is a super side story to the main storyline. And to be honest, I really enjoyed it. I wanted to see why these two sisters lived their whole life separated. I enjoyed the process and the friendships created along the way. I felt for the parents, but at the same time, I felt more for the girls. There were instances where I wanted to yell at the parents because they kept putting the reveal off. This was enjoyable overall—a great summer read. Not particularly memorable, but it does what it sets out to do: makes you question the strength of friendships and what they can overcome. Also, Instagram.

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112. Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

When my friend raved about this book I was both excited and intimidated. I usually try to avoid hypes surrounding books because I go in with too-high expectations and a lot of the time, the expectations crush me while I’m reading. Thankfully, the hype is very well-deserved with this one. For me, the most important aspect of this book that stuck with me wasn’t the mystery surrounding the MC’s cousin’s death, but the character growth the MC himself experiences during the time of his investigation. Identity sounds like a pretty clear cut thing sometimes, but it’s a lot harder to know your own when you’re the child of an immigrant family. You live in a new country, get accustomed to new expectations and customs, and inevitably feel a culture shock when you’re re-introduced to the culture your parents grew up in. I saw myself so much in this MC. From my childhood to my current adult years, people have thought that they could define me and who I am simply because I say I’m this or this. But while others make a quick judgment, they don’t see the internal struggle. They don’t see you questioning yourself on whether you’re enough of this, or whether you’re enough of that. I think teenage me would have loved this book even more. The MC is constantly faced with criticism about his father choosing to move them to the States from the Philippines. The judgments and the preconceived notions of him and his family make him not only weary because he recalls how his uncle treated his father the first time he visited, but also wary because it sets him down this road of self-reflection. I haven’t read many (if any, unfortunately) books where a character goes to the Philippines. I’m so thankful to this book. I learned so much about the culture, the foods, and the struggles faced not just financially, but politically as well. I remember reading about some of the topics brought up in this book and it was extremely eye-opening. It’s so easy for us to look away because we have that privilege, but this book says, “No, look at me. I exist.” The MC, in his journey, also learns to speak up and use his voice. Not just against ignorant friends, but an annoyingly smug and verbally abusive uncle (who I hated to all hell). He also learns to listen. He learns that though not every story is perfect, they still have power. I think this is a great read for those who have one foot in two different worlds (hands and arms can be in other worlds, too). Especially if you’re trying to understand this part of you that wasn’t developed as you grew up. I’d also recommend it to readers who want to learn more about this struggle, learn more about a different culture that is more than its stereotypes, and/or want to read about a young teenager trying to come to terms with his grief and guilt.

___ Have you read any of these books? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

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tiifalockhart · 3 years

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Missing You

Anonymous asked: Can you please make a KH Sora x female reader oneshot? One where the Sora misses his crush so much that he starts dreaming of seeing her again. As he continues his quest to find the power of waking. He reminds himself that if he continues he’ll see her sooner. The sooner he sees her the sooner he can confess and share the paopu fruit with her. But the organization tells him that they have someone special to him. This causes Sora to get angry and ask them where is she?! They ask him how important is she to him. Sora would do anything for his crush. As soon as Sora sees you in front of Xehnort Sora screams her name. But before he could get to his love it was too late.

Anonymous asked: May I ask for a Sora x normal female reader oneshot? Where she doesn’t know about keyblades or heartless. Sora doesn’t want her to be involved with all of this. Because he’s afraid that she’ll get captured like Kairi does.

Pairing: Sora x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: goodness, I’ve been working on this for about two weeks straight. I decided to mesh these two requests together because based on the content of both asks, I could muster up a pretty decent story from both of them. I hope this is okay!!! I really hope you enjoy reading this, I’ve worked on it for so long now haha

Ao3 || Masterlist

It had been so long since the last time you had properly seen Sora. You remembered the first time he went missing when the two of you were just kids. It was terrifying, he, Kairi and Riku suddenly disappearing without a trace. The fact that this was possible by a few kids was scary enough, but they left behind no clues.

You remembered the adults of the islands were upset over this. They couldn’t seem to figure out why this happened. You found yourself conflicted and confused as well. Your three friends just.. Vanished into thin air. You remembered everyone spent so many days and nights out searching for the three of them, only to continue coming back with nothing. You ended up living in fear. What if they were taken by someone? What if they were coming after everyone on the island? It seemed everyone on the island was paranoid as well.

It wasn’t until Kairi suddenly returned home when everyone’s nerves finally calmed down. You could never find it within yourself to carry on like everyone else, though. You didn’t really understand it, everyone was acting like Sora and Riku never existed. You asked Kairi about this several times; however, she had the same answer every time: ‘I don’t know.’ She’d answer that way to everything you asked. Eventually you and Kairi grew far apart.

It seemed like a lost cause to try and ask around. No one seemed to remember Sora, and Riku ended up never returning. You grew concerned. Something really bad had to of happened, but there wasn’t any way for you to find out.

...Until you started dreaming about it.

Sora couldn’t remember the last time he felt at peace since leaving Destiny Islands. While this adventure was amazing and fun at times, he also missed being home with his family and friends and knowing they were safe. He missed you so much. The day he and the others disappeared from Destiny Islands was probably the most confusing day of his life. He hasn’t been back to Destiny Islands since... And he probably won’t be back for a long time.

By the time Kairi returned to Destiny Islands, Sora was trapped in Castle Oblivion. Having his memories rearranged and changed, he ends up forgetting Kairi. However, an important aspect is overlooked.

Sora had spent so much time trying to protect you without you knowing it. During his adventure so far, he was careful to avoid mentioning your name. He was lucky enough that you happened to stay home that night he and the others disappeared. Not wanting to risk another one of his friends getting hurt, he had to be careful when it came to you.

So Naminé ended up overlooking you in Sora’s memories and focused on Kairi and Riku specifically. Out of every confusing emotion that he had during this time, somehow relief was present. Knowing that you were safe for now made all of this comforting some how.

As the giant doors to the memory pod slowly shut, Sora felt himself begin to drift off to dreamy state. The last thing to cross his mind was you. Every memory of you that remained untouched played through his mind like a movie, from the time you two first met, up until the day he disappeared. He longed to see you again, maybe even share a paopu fruit with you. As he fell asleep, he looked forward to seeing you again.

Somehow, his dreams managed to transfer over to you. As you slept, you began to see something similar to visions. Some of them were hard to decipher. You couldn’t tell if it was the future, or if it was the past. You’d see people you didn’t know and live their lives as if it were your own. You dreamt of fighting and wars that you had never seen before. When you woke up, all of it was gone within an instance.

It was confusing. You didn’t know who’s memories these were, nor why you were seeing them. There was no one to ask, either. If anyone found out, they would think you’re crazy...

You managed to mention it sneakily in a conversation with Kairi. After school one day, as the two of you walked together down the beach, you suddenly turned to her in the middle of talking. “You know... I’ve been having weird dreams lately.” You stated. If anyone were to have answers, it would be her, right?

Kairi simply looked over at you, her expression going blank as you spoke. “Weird dreams?” She asked, raising a brow. “Like what?”

Finally, some progress. You began to explain in detail of what you were seeing. You mentioned seeing Sora and Riku in worlds that didn’t look like Destiny Islands, or seeing people older than the two of you fighting each other. As you explained all of this, Kairi’s expression slowly twisted into one of discomfort. When you realized this, you immediately stopped talking. “I’m sorry, I-” You tried to apologize, but she stopped you.

“It’s alright. It’s getting late, isn’t it?” She pointed out, looking up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set on the distant horizon. You hesitantly nodded and turned towards the small town. “I need to go home before I worry my parents.” She reminded, waving goodbye as she walked off.

A slightly frustrated sigh left you lips as you watched her go, unable to find it in yourself to press the situation further. Kairi’s been through enough by now... She doesn’t need you interrogating her.

Troubled by your overwhelming thoughts and dreams about Sora, you found yourself unable to settle with the fact that he was just... Gone. You were willing to believe anything at this point, you just needed some kind of peace of mind.

That’s when you first met him.

It had been months since your dreams first started occurring. You and Kairi were much older by now, with no sign of Sora or Riku ever returning. Eventually conversation fell off about them. No one seemed to remember them.

You don’t really remember how this man ended up on the island. You remembered he was dressed in a black, weird-looking coat, and his face was hidden by his hood. He was the one that approached you first, his hands clasped behind his back as he silently observed you.

Before you could question him about what he was doing, he interrupted you by simply lifting a hand. “You’re friends with... Sora, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice slightly raspy as he spoke. Something inside of you told you to not answer him, but if he approached you, he already knew the answer, didn’t he?

“...Yes. Who are you?” You questioned, your eyes narrowing slightly. He let out a sly chuckle as he shook his head.

“I’m no enemy of yours. Promise.” He stated, holding out his left pinky. The cloaked man seemed to be expecting you to link your pinky with his; however, you held your suspicious gaze. “You see, a friend of yours sent me to find you. What was his name again? Something like... Riku...” The man explained, causing something inside of you to snap.

“Riku?! Is he okay? Can I see him? Does this mean Sora is okay as well?” You asked, the questions basically spilling out of you. You probably should have left off the last question, you didn’t know who this man was. As far as you knew, he could have been the one responsible for their disappearance. It didn’t matter in the moment, though. You were desperate for answers. You needed to know that Sora was okay.

Unbeknownst to you, you had fallen straight into his trap. You finally established that connection between the two of you. Now they had an opening to attack. “Oh, I thought you knew. We’ve been taking care of Sora for a while now...” He lied smoothly, a twisted smirk forming on his features. “Would you like to see him? I’m sure he misses you a bunch.” The man said, his hand stretching out towards you.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking his hand. As soon as he held his gloved hand out, you subconsciously reached out, not a single second thought in your mind. The moment your fingertips touched, a pool of darkness formed around your feet. Before you could get a word out, the two of you were consumed by it.

When your eyes opened again, you stood in the middle of a grey room. You quickly backed away from the male, a newfound look of fear in your eyes. “What did you do?!” You demanded, her brows furrowing. Have you succumbed to the same fate as Riku and Sora?

The male let out a low chuckle as he removed his hood. His long black ponytail fell down his back as his smirk was shown in the light of the room. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to see Sora.” He hummed, a sarcastic tone to his voice. “As if.” He stated, summoning a weapon similar to one of a gun. “Walk.” He commanded, gesturing for you to go.

You figured as you were pushed through the twisting halls of this weird building, you’d at least look for a way out. Your eyes scanned the halls, you would stare down every corridor, and you’d examine every opening in the walls. From what you could see, there was really no way out. Each room lead to another room that eventually went in a full circle. The castle was massive, there really was no escape.

Even if there was, the cell that they placed you in was unescapable. It seemed to float in midair, the bars were thick and too close together. You looked around the inside and realized there was no way of getting out except through the bars. A troubled expression formed on your features as you moved to sit against the wall.

How did all of this happen? How did this man know who Sora was? He mentioned Riku too... Does that mean Riku is here? But why would Riku let this happen? Wait... How did you even get here? What is this place? You definitely weren’t at Destiny Islands anymore. How could you be so foolish?

It felt like years had passed by the time Sora woke up again. His body was sore and his mind was filled with thoughts and memories of everyone in his life. He wasn’t really sure how much time had actually passed when he was asleep, but he did know he missed his friends.

His life quickly changed as he eased into being awake again. Organization XIII had been more and more active, Sora was mostly unaware of his previous encounters with them in Castle Oblivion. Mickey and Riku were still gone, and he had no clue when he would be able to return to Destiny Islands to visit you or Kairi.

It wasn’t until he arrived at Hollow Bastion when he came face-to-face with the Organization members. He met one of them, a dark haired male with a long ponytail and an eye patch. This one was pretty much like a huge jerk. He kept taunting and mocking Sora, causing increased frustration with the group, until he mentioned something odd.

“We have something you want.” He dropped between his lines. Sora’s expression contorted into confusion. Something he wants? What could he possibly want from the Organization?

“That’s not true. I don’t want anything from you.” He argued, frowning as he looked up at the older man. Xigbar immediately began to laugh, his yellow eye piercing into Sora’s gaze.

“As if.” He answered, waving him off. “I guess [Name]’s gonna be waiting a little longer, then.” He shrugged, disappearing into a pool of darkness.

For a moment, Sora stood in silence. His expression held confusion, shock and a hint of anger, but he knew he was powerless to stop Xigbar now. His eyes slowly moved to his keyblade. They had you. He worked so hard to avoid bringing you into this... How did this happen?

Throughout his adventure, trying to find the Organization felt impossible. It was frustrating to say the least. He wasn’t sure who to blame. Had he accidentally let it slip? Did Riku or Mickey tell them? Where were they anyways? There were so many confusing questions that probably wouldn’t be answered until a long time from now.

His adventure began to feel like a cat-and-mouse game. He was constantly chasing someone, whether it was Organization XIII, Riku, Mickey, or heartless. It was so exhausting, especially with you constantly on his mind. He couldn’t help but be terrified for you, he was so worried and there wasn’t a waking moment where you weren’t on his mind.

Things finally began to look up when they finally arrived at the World That Never Was. It was time to face the Organization for good, while finding you, Kairi and Riku.

From what you could remember, Kairi somehow ended up in the prison as well. While the two of you were separated, you still could talk. Even if that was the case, there wasn’t much to say. You felt guilty, the blue haired male stopped by occasionally to remind you that you’re the reason why Sora is being lured here. It made you feel so guilty, you hated that you had somehow become a burden in the middle of a bunch of problems you didn’t understand.

You missed him so much. You missed Riku, you missed Kairi, you missed Destiny Islands. Why did everything have to go wrong? Why couldn’t everything just be normal? Nothing made sense anymore.

A shaky sigh left your lips as your eyes shut. With this endless waiting, you found yourself enjoying solitude. There wasn’t much else to do besides wallowing in your guilt. You longed to see Sora again, you missed home so much.

In the middle of your depressed thoughts, you heard some movement from the cell besides yours. You narrowed your eyes as you moved closer to the bars, before widening your eyes at the sight of a... Ghost? She had light colored hair and wore a white dress, but she seemed to be see-through and she stood in the same pool of darkness that the Organization uses. The two of you made eye contact for a moment, before another pool appeared behind you. Kairi seemed to trust her without hesitation, you could only do the same.

When you entered the darkness, you emerged in a long white hall. You hadn’t seen this part of the Castle before, so you weren’t sure of which way to go. The mysterious girl and Kairi seemed to be separated from you, because they have yet to arrive.

This only meant that you were on your own from now on. You weren’t sure which way to go, so you ended up blindly choosing. As you explored the Castle, you suddenly heard some talking. When you finally approached the voices, you saw all three of them. Sora, Riku and Kairi were standing together, reunited and smiling.

Your heart swelled at the sight. They all looked so grown up, they looked so different from the kids you met on the islands. You weren’t sure how to approach them anymore. They were basically different people. You hesitantly took a step closer, noticing how Riku’s gaze moved towards you.

The grey haired male quickly patted Sora’s shoulder and gestured towards you, making the younger male look over at you. A look of relief crossed his features immediately as he ran over to you.

“[Name]....” He whispered, seeming to be unsure of how he should approach you. “We were just about to find you, I was so worried, how did any of this hap-” He was cut off from his rambling when you embraced him tightly, your tears falling down your cheeks finally.

“Sora, I missed you so much...” You whispered, looking up at him and gently cupping his cheeks. “I was so worried, the moment you and Riku never returned, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I kept thinking about you... Everyone else seemed to forget, but I couldn’t.” You explained, shaking your head.

He nodded hesitantly and sighed, shaking his head. “I should have told you what happened, what was going on, I’m sorry that I never could.” He whispered, frowning. “I just wanted to keep you safe.” He murmured, looking down at the floor.

“It’s okay. You have unfinished business, don’t you? We’ll talk about it when we get back to Destiny Islands.” You replied, nodding slowly and taking his hand.

He nodded firmly and turned towards the others. “Then let’s finish this.” He stated.

The entire group ran towards the top of the Castle, preparing to face the final boss. Avoiding obstacles and defeating seemingly endless amounts of heartless and nobodies, you finally arrived at the top. Sora stood in front of you and Kairi protectively. You were basically useless when it came to confronting Xemnas, so you stayed back with a weird looking duck and dog.

Everything seemed to be going well... You weren’t really sure what was happening. You couldn’t believe your eyes for the most part. All you remember was a giant door opening and Sora and Riku disappearing into it. You couldn’t help yourself become nervous at the sight. What if they didn’t return? There was so much on the line. Eventually, you and Kairi were urged to return to Destiny Islands, the small mouse telling you that Sora and Riku would be home soon.

You had no choice but to go with them. Your eyes were glued to the sight of the door beginning to shut behind Sora and Riku. You swore you saw something resembling a smile on Sora’s lips. Nervousness formed on your chest. What if he doesn’t come back? What if you never see him again? You found it hard to breathe as you returned to the beach of Destiny Islands.

You and Kairi waited for so long, neither of you speaking as you waiting at the edge of the coast. You were so anxious as you waited for some kind of answer, or sign that they were alive and well. As the sun began to set, the stars above you began to shine through the clouds. You stared up at the sky for the longest time until something else caught your eyes.

Two shooting stars, side-by-side, fell towards the ocean. As they splashed into the water, you hopped up to your feet and prepared to run out into the water. That’s when you saw his spikey brown hair peek above the water, followed by long silver hair. “Sora!!” You cried out, running into the water. The two men turned towards you and Kairi, eagerly swimming towards the island.

The moment that you and Sora met, the two of you embraced tightly, as if you were afraid something were going to separate you two again. You could feel your own tears running down your face, as well as his falling onto your shoulder. “I missed you so much.” He whispered, pulling away and looking down at you.

“I missed you, too.” You replied quietly, taking his hands and guiding him to the shore. It felt nice being home with everyone again. It had been years since you were all united like this again. You never wanted them to be taken away from you again.

As everyone exchanged their greetings and hugs, you found yourself slowly walking towards the leaning palm tree. Sora managed to catch up to you, a grin on his lips. “Hey, I have something for you.” He explained, pulling you along and hopping up onto the palm tree. He reached up and plucked a couple of star-shaped fruit off of it, handing one to you. “I heard that if you share these, your lives are connected forever.” Sora mentioned, raising a brow and handing one to you.

“Share them?” You asked, taking a seat next to him on the tree. “Where did you hear that?” You asked, a giggle leaving your lips.

He chuckled softly and shrugged. “Some guy named Riku.” He answered, smiling quietly and sighing. He quietly took a bite from one of the fruit, before holding it out towards you. After you took a bite, a soft hum left your lips.

“So... What now?” You asked, looking out towards the sunset. He hesitated, before shrugging.

“I’m not sure. The Organization is defeated, we’ve finished our journey, I think.” He murmured, furrowing his brows. “I guess I can finally tell you about everything that’s happened.” He pointed out, grinned.

You smirked. “You better get started then. You have a lot of explaining to do.” You answered, smiling as he eagerly began to explain everything from the night they left, up to before you found them in the castle.

Honestly, no matter how hard it was getting to this point, you were beyond happy to be next to him again.

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underachievers-please-try-harder · 3 years

Text

Interview // Clairo

For The Guardian. Read online.

Exuding all the effusive pride of a new parent, Claire Cottrill is showing me photos of Joanie, her rescue dog and the muse for her forthcoming album, Sling. “She’s actually really bossy,” the Massachusetts-raised artist better known as Clairo chuckles over Zoom, holding her phone close to the laptop screen so I can see the Instagram post more clearly. “But she’s so funny. We have such a special bond.”

According to a DNA test, the sandy-furred pup is mostly chow chow and great pyrenees, with a little bit of boxer and lab in the mix, which accounts for the fact she has tripled in size in the six-and-a-bit months since her adoption. “She was a little wolf baby; a peanut!” the 22-year-old singer-songwriter exclaims, mooning nostalgically over one particular image depicting the then seven-week-old puppy peeking out of some bushes.

Dog ownership might have become quite the ultimate lockdown cliche, but for Cottrill committing to a pet represented a rare opportunity to lay down some roots. Certainly, pre-pandemic she hadn’t had much chance to pursue a life of quiet domesticity; not since the autumn of 2018 at least, when the lo-fi bedroom pop of Pretty Girl went viral, just weeks after she started college in Syracuse.

Its winningly DIY video racked up more than 1.5m YouTube views pretty much overnight (it now stands at almost 75m), and Cottrill was heralded as a vital new voice, and part of a wave of creatively autonomous, emotionally articulate Gen Z artists, alongside the likes of Billie Eilish and Rex Orange County.

Cottrill’s rapid rise – not to mention her signing with the Fader label and Chance the Rapper’s management team – was not without controversy. A small but vocal subset on Reddit circulated the rumour that Cottrill was an “industry plant”, a conclusion they arrived at following their discovery that her father Geoff was previously chief marketing officer at Converse and co-founder of its affiliated recording studio Rubber Tracks. She has recently addressed the allegations directly, telling Rolling Stone, “I definitely am not blind to the fact that things have been easier for me.”

Largely though, Cottrill has sought to prove her detractors wrong through the quality of her compositions. First came Diary 001, an esoteric, six-track set mining skeletal hip-hop and the wipe-clean grooves of PC Music-inspired pop. That was followed in August 2019 by Immunity, the full-length debut she co-produced with ex-Vampire Weekend man Rostam Batmanglij. More revelatory than Diary 001, it detailed a suicide attempt (Alewife) and her struggles with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis (I Wouldn’t Ask You) with striking candour. Sonically, it paired tender, electronics-tinged introspection with swooning guitar-pop. Sofia, which now boasts 280m streams on Spotify, catapulted Cottrill into another league of fame entirely, leading to collaborations with Charli XCX, Mura Masa and Arlo Parks, plus arena tours in support of Khalid and Tame Impala.

Cottrill was busy with the latter when Covid hit the US. On hearing the news, she headed straight to Atlanta, Georgia, to see out lockdown with family, a period of isolation originally scheduled to last a fortnight but which went on for eight months.

Just how intense was it spending the best part of a year holed up with her parents? “It was awesome,” she insists, now back at the Brooklyn apartment she shares with fellow musicians and former college pals Claud and Josh Mehling. “My older sister came home as well. And I found it interesting that no matter how much you’ve progressed as an adult in your own life, the family roles revert back to exactly how it was as a kid.”

First and foremost, enforced confinement provided the opportunity for Cottrill to deepen her relationship with her mother.

“The conversations I had with my mom about motherhood, and the things she sacrificed for us, are really important to me,” she says. “Also, it’s like you don’t actually know who your mother is before she’s Mom, before she’s Wife, because there isn’t a huge documentation of who she was as an individual. And I realised that I might be in the period of my life now where I’m in my individual phase: before I am Mom, before I am Wife, or whatever I end up being. It was a bit scary to recognise that I could eventually have a family, and then this whole identity that I’ve had on my own for a long time can, in some ways, disappear.”

These existential ideas form the basis of Cottrill’s much-anticipated second album. Recorded in the autumn of 2020 at Allaire Studios – situated on a mountain top in upstate New York – Sling finds Jack Antonoff co-producing. Perhaps more significantly, the record also features backing vocals from Lorde – on Reaper as well as the lead single Blouse – an alliance that led to Cottrill returning the favour on the New Zealander’s latest, Solar Power.

“I met Lorde [when I was] on FaceTime with Jack,” she says of the link-up. “He was like: ‘Hey, I’m with a friend, can we say hi?’, and it was Lorde. And I freaked out, of course, but she’s the nicest person ever.

“We talked a lot about how cool it was in the Laurel Canyon era, where people would secretly do background vocals on each other’s music – like Joni Mitchell with Carole King – rather than as a way to benefit the business side of things. Back then it was just like: ‘I love your voice: will you lend your talent to my song?’ So that’s what I asked her, and I was just lucky enough that she wanted me on hers as well.”

The legacy of Laurel Canyon looms over Sling, which swaps the sparse electronic flourishes of Immunity for lush, acoustic folk, often embellished with swooning vocal harmonies, delicate strings and the warm swell of brass. Reference points for the record included Hejira-era Mitchell, the Carpenters and Harry Nilsson, alongside less obvious touchpoints, such as cult jazz musician Blossom Dearie. Most influential, perhaps, was Innocence & Despair by the Langley Schools Music Project, which features a choir of 1970s school kids covering hits of the day, and has since been hailed as a significant piece of outsider art.

“To me, that record merged my two worlds for Sling,” Cottrill explains. “I wanted that warm 70s feeling, but also I was thinking so much about kids, and especially the clumsy, sweet kid that Joanie embodies.”

There is a darker side to the record too, as Cottrill grapples with the reality of life navigating an industry that she memorably describes – on Bambi – as “a universe designed against my own beliefs”. On Blouse she describes her experiences being sexualised by record execs, while on Management she parodies the industry’s fascination with youth in lines like “She’s only 22”.

“[The attitude is] ‘There’s a lot more that we can squeeze out of her before she’s done.’ Because I think that what this industry does a lot is drain young women of everything until they’re not youthful any more.”

For Cottrill, as much as Sling is an album, it is a document of her endeavours to reassess what it is she wants from life. And adopting Joanie was only the first step: in two weeks’ time she plans to move into the house she recently purchased, in a tiny Massachusetts town in close proximity to both the Berkshire and Catskill mountains.

“It’s so awful that it took something like lockdown happening for me to reevaluate how I wanted to move forward. But it’s now about putting my mental health first, because I deserve to have nice things that I do care about. [Things] outside of music, like a house and a dog.”

As we say goodbye, I get another glimpse of Joanie, who has been snoozing throughout the interview. Sprawled on the floor at the end of Cottrill’s bed, blissfully unaware of her significance in our conversations, it’s a pretty fitting encapsulation of the pace of life that Cottrill has finally embraced.

#interview #interviews #tearsheet #tearsheets #guardian #the guardian #the guide #clairo #sling #claire cottrill

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ricksroaches · 3 years

Text

Jimin - Dysphoria ch. 2

pairing: Yoongi x Reader, OT7 x Reader (platonic)

summary: Jimin gets in trouble defending Y/N. Later that night things get deep.

notes: Y/N is based of an OC so if a few traits don't match yours I'm sorry T.T. To clear things up, this chapter takes place like a year before the actual storyline. Present day, Y/N and Jimin are juniors.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: cursing, mental illness, drugs (weed, LSD), smut (fingering, spanking, v penetration), mentions of sexual assault

Prev chapter Next chapter

Jimin lost his virginity when he was 14.

Too fast? Ight let’s take it back a little.

Jimin was the perfect kid. Obedient, polite, compassionate, the ultimate parent dream package. He was born to please everyone. To give everyone joy, even if that joy was his own. But it wasn’t enough when it came to his parents. Their marriage was rocky even before he was in the picture. They divorced, and his dad moved out when he was 8, leaving his mom to raise him and his older sister by herself. He got a good lawyer and ended up getting out of custody, but his mom managed to get decent child support out of it. If one thing is true about this world it’s that a man with deep pockets can get whatever he wants.

Jimin wouldn’t see his dad for another four years, but life went on as it does; he continued to excel in dance, make good grades, make everyone happy. That was, until Seunghyun came into the picture.

He seemed okay at first. His mom had met him through a friend, and it didn’t take long for them to start dating. He was nice enough, handsome enough, wealthy enough. Jimin remembered the day he met him for the first time.

“Hey, Jimin right?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Your mom talks about you a lot.”

“…thank you?”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“11.”

There was a pause. He simply nodded a few times before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Keep that up.”

Seunghyun began coming over more and more frequently, most times even staying the night. Jimin had grown to like him quite a bit. He always brought something for him like a candy bar or a pair of Ray Bans he didn’t wear anymore. He often took him out to get ice cream and other spur of the moment treats.

Jimin's sister, Roseanne, was also a dancer. In fact, she was the reason he started. She was the whole world in his eyes and the most beautiful dancer he’d ever seen. Her dancing was the kind that sucked the air out of the room. No one dared breathe as everyone’s eyes followed her fluid movements. You simply couldn’t take your eyes off her in fear of missing a detail. It didn’t matter what you were doing. If Rose was dancing, you were watching.

Rose had a dance tournament in L.A., a solid 6 hour drive from their home in San Francisco. Mom was too busy with work to take her, so Seunghyun offered which she gratefully accepted. Jimin wasn’t worried at all, he knew she’d beat everyone there, which was why it surprised him to see her come home with a broken spirit. When he asked her what happened she simply said, “I didn’t make it.” He consoled her while she wept throughout the next two nights.

It wasn’t until the boys’ trip Seunghyun planned as an extra birthday gift that he would understand Rose’s tears. He’d just turned 12.

Jimin separated his life into two books. One of his life before that trip. The other, his life since. He often kept himself up at night wishing he hadn’t gone, and that he would never become the person he is now.

What happened on the trip, however, it didn’t stop. In fact, it happened more and more often, and it wasn’t just him, it was Rose too. The night Jimin heard Seunghyun slip into his sister's room next door, he made a decision.

He started taking the brunt of Seunghyun’s doings to keep him away from Rose. He could tell she was wilting. Her dance had become lethargic and she rarely competed anymore. Jimin wouldn’t have that. If he had one purpose in this world, it was to make Roseanne happy.

The promiscuity began in 7th grade with his first kiss at the back to school dance with Megan Shelby, one of the most popular girls in school. Their brief relationship rocketed him to the top of the dating hierarchy. By the end of the semester, he’d had 3 girlfriends and 4 boyfriends. Oh yeah, he knew he swung that way for a while now.

By 8th grade, things became more sexual. He just needed more. That rush that he got feeling someone else’s lips on his, getting to touch their body any way he liked, being touched himself, it was addictive. In those moments, he could forget about everything and enjoy himself for once.

His first nude was leaked by a boy who pretended to be gay for a month so Jimin would send to him. He didn’t have much shame when it came to sending nudes. He never asked for any, he was a gentleman. But if asked, if the guy was cute enough, he would.

Jacob. God that boy. Jimin was head over heels for that boy. Whatever he wanted, Jimin did. His first time giving head was pretty scary. He gagged a lot and could barely fit half of him, but it was the hardest he’d ever been in his life.

It didn’t take long for Jacob to want more than blowjobs. It was a spur of the moment thing, really. It was the summer before freshman year, Jacob had gotten them invited to a high school party, and Jimin’s mom had just broken up with Seunghyun (for reasons unrelated to this story). That was also the first night Jimin had ever gotten drunk. This was his night to secretly celebrate his freedom from the burden he lived with for three years. He took to the stuff rather quickly and before long Jacob was carrying him slurring up the stairs to a bedroom for him to rest.

Jimin playfully initiated a make out session that got pretty hot and heavy thanks to the alcohol. It was then that Jacob pulled back and popped the question. Jimin thought about it for a good 4 seconds before smashing his lips back onto his beloved boyfriend’s.

A new chapter in the Book of Jimin was written that night.

Jacob ended up cheating on him to which Jimin proceeded to rack up the highest body count in the school. It’s ancient history.

Despite his vigorous sexual awakening, Jimin remained the same angel in every adult’s eyes. It was hard to live with the memories of Seunghyun that plagued him almost every waking moment. He was finding it more and more difficult to come up with excuses for his breakdowns that sent him home from school. He couldn’t tell his mom. It would break her heart. So he dealt with it on his own, hiding all of his pain and fear behind a polite smile.

~~~

SOPHOMORE YEAR - OCTOBER

“All I’m saying is, dying of old age is like dying from not dying.”

Jimin swung his locker closed revealing the unzipped hoodie clad Y/N leaning against the locker beside him. “It took you ten minutes just to say that?”

“If you won’t appreciate my philosophical ideas then I will take them elsewhere.” He eyed her down.

“Y/N, you probably can’t even stand up straight right now.”

“And why might you say that?”

“Because it’s the last day before fall break I know you're high as tits right now.” She let out a slurred chuckle. She leaned her temple against the red metal and gazed at him with a dopey smile spread across her face. “Yeah, uh huh. Didn’t even share with me, bitchass. Now let’s go.”

“Yessir.” She stuffed her hand in her shorts pockets in search of her keys when a rough slap to her ass made her stiff as a board.

“Nice ass, L/N. You should wear those more often.” She could barely recognize the voice as Will Jacobs before he was on the floor with Jimin on top of absolutely wailing on him. He paused his assault briefly.

“You never touch her! You hear me?!”

Will glanced at her before zoning back in on Jimin. “Her? Tell her not to wear something like that and not expect feedbac-” he was cut off by Jimin's fist connecting to his nose with a delicious crunch. He didn’t stop, though. He kept punching and punching and punching. By now, a crowd had formed shouting and chanting for either boy. Y/N didn’t do anything to stop it. She stood there, keys dangling from her finger, in stoned awe. Although the sober side of her would’ve enjoyed to see it happen nonetheless. She was also too stoned to warn him about the principle marching towards the pair.

“JIMIN PARK!” His fist stopped midair, fully reared back to strike. The circle scattered like rats upon their fighters’ capture. He was yanked up by the back of his shirt and Will was hauled to his feet by two security guards, a shit eating grin on his blood smeared face. Jimin turned to Y/N, who’s mouth was still hanging open, while being dragged to the office.

“Just go without me. This is gonna be a while.” To which she dumbly nodded and made her way out of the building baked and confused.

~~~

The sun had set and Y/N still had no word from Jimin. She assumed his mom took his phone as punishment or something so she went about her business, albeit a little bummed.

She had just settled on her bed with her bong nestled in her lap when a soft knock at her window made her jump. She whirled around to see Jimin crouched outside her window. She unlatched it and shoved it up with a half annoyed huff half sigh of relief. “What the hell are you doing?” He ignored her query and slipped through the window and rolled onto her floor.

“I told my mom I’m at Tae’s. I just wanted to see you after earlier.” With a nod of approval, she turned around to inspect her bong for any damage.

“I live alone dipshit you could’ve used the door.”

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting that.”

Yes. Y/N lives alone. We’ll unpack that later.

“So what happened?” She settled back in her spot but set the hot pink crystal contraption on her nightstand. Jimin crawled onto her bed and collapsed into the soft blankets. The smell of weed mingled with the lavender fabric softener to create a devastating blend that could knock anyone out for hours.

“Most of it was just them saying how disappointed they were and how I tainted my ‘flawless’ record. They didn’t even address the reason I gave them for doing it.” His lips twitched into a hateful scowl briefly. “They’re suspending me for three days.”

“But it’s fall break.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m suspended the first three days we get back. Jokes on them, I just got my break extended.”

“What about Will?”

“He was in the nurse’s office the whole time.” She casually lifted her fist and he bumped it.

“That’s my guy.”

There was a comfortable silence while the two relived the moment in their heads. She was thinking about how stupid she probably looked watching the ordeal. He wished he’d done more damage.

“Hey, Jimmy boy?”

“Yes, bitch?”

“You wanna get high?”

Y/N had just gotten a new sheet and wanted to try it out. They placed the tabs on each other’s tongues and watched the little mushroom design dissolve. An hour later they were sitting across from each other staring at the other giggling incoherently.

She studied every one of his features like it was the first time she’d seen him all over again. His peach hair was parted down the middle, bangs brushing his temples. His clean, solid eyebrows were in perfect contrast to his sun kissed skin. His eyes formed tiny crescents when he smiled only adding to his adorable look. His smile…….his smile. Perfect, pink, pillowy lips she could only describe as belonging to an angel. Glowing white teeth that radiated beauty every time he opened his mouth. His face slowly began to look like an oil painting on canvas the longer she stared at him. Her smile grew ever wider as she traced the brush strokes along his jaw and the delicate shading of his toned neck.

Jimin gazed at Y/N’s face with pure adoration. All of his love for her magnetized by the dopamine dump in his brain, and he hoped she saw herself the way he did. Her wild curls wiggled in place like a cute version of Medusa’s snakes. Very fun to look at when there’s a whole mane of it. Her freckles sparkled like dots of purple and blue glitter and the moonlight that hit the apple of her cheek shimmered and twinkled like it was coated in diamond dust. A barely audible giggle slipped from her parted lips. It made him giggle too. “What?”

“I’m just so happy…” her spacey smile said it all. He could see in her eyes that she truly meant it. He watched as the color changed from blue, to green, to hazel, to grey. The colors mixed and faded slowly and if you didn’t focus you wouldn’t catch it. He counted each individual fleck of gold in the center of her irises and they glowed like fireflies on a summer night.

“…Jimin..?”

He snapped out of his daze to see that her eyes were wider than they were before. He also realized that she was laying on the bed, and he was on top of her. He was frozen. When did that even happen? He stared back at her with equal shock but neither moved away. Her eyes didn’t show any signs of fear or discomfort. She was just surprised.

Every thought he ever had about her was rammed to the front of his mind and he had the crushing need to show her how special she truly was to him. Without further ado, he smashed his lips down onto hers. She let out the tiniest squeak before quickly returning the favor. She carded her fingers through his hair and pulled him father down to deepen the kiss. His chest was now pressed against hers and the grip on his hair tightened. Few breaths were taken between kisses while she pushed his jacket down his arms and let it drop to the floor.

Jimin took it upon himself to slip his hands under the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. He slid his palms up and down and stomach and waist, completely lost in the distorted sense of touch that hypnotized him. He was reminded of his task by a soft tug on the hem of his own shirt which he hastily peeled off before diving back into another kiss. He took his course to her jaw and then found purchase on her neck, sucking and biting until wine colored marks dotted her entire neck and collarbone. He made quick work of her plain black bra and tossed it behind him to an unknown corner of the room. He got to work making his marks anywhere and everywhere he could reach. The sharp rise of her chest when she gasped only spurred him on.

His hands snaked down her naked torso and yanked her sleep shorts out from under her before slipping his fingers under the waistband of her undies. Simple black Calvin Klein cheeky cut. Modest, yet tasteful. Her thighs jerked when he found her clit and started rubbing smooth circles, drawing out a silent cry from her behind his lips. He made sure she was good and wet before sinking two fingers past her lips, earning another heavy gasp that made her chest heave against his. He broke the kiss and leaned back much to her disappointment. He pumped his fingers in and out, finding every little nook and cranny to massage. He pressed his palm into the space between her belly button and her entrance and curled his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion, eliciting a satisfying cry from her. He burned the sight of her back arching off the bed at his handiwork into his memory permanently.

He curled and pumped his fingers faster and faster until her walls clenched around his digits and her body shuddered and twitched from the force of the climax he’d brought her. She collapsed against the bed a heaving mess and he gazed down at her with a devilish smile. Demon Jimin had come out to play.

In a flash, he was out of his jeans and back on top in only his boxers. His muscular thighs and arms caged her underneath him as he raked his eyes over her figure before landing on her last remaining article of clothing. Before she knew it, she’d been flipped onto her stomach. His hands glided up her thighs and kneaded the flesh of her ass. With a rough tug, she heard the sound of fabric tearing and cold air hit her core sending a shudder down her spine.

A single, dazzling smack stung her right cheek before the pain was kneaded away. He pressed his body into hers and spoke low in her ear, “You feel that? Only I’m allowed to do that. No one else.”

She could feel the familiar hardness grinding against her ass sending another shiver through her body. He chuckled darkly. “You like that, don’t you?” She nodded, her face pressed into her pillow. He dug his fingers into her hips and abruptly yanked them into the air. Her yelp was muffled by the pillow but he definitely heard it. His boxers were discarded and he lined himself up at her entrance. He teased his tip against her folds watching them flinch with every touch. He sunk his full length into her evoking a high pitched cry from her and a low groan that ripped through his chest.

He wasted no time setting a rhythmic pace that had them both a moaning mess. They could feel every single square inch in 4K and their brains could barely keep up. He was so lost in the feeling he didn’t realize he’d sped up significantly and she was gripping the pillow to muffle her pleasured cries. “Why are you hiding those beautiful noises?” He wrapped his hand around her neck and hoisted her upright on her knees. “I want to hear everything that I do to you. Don’t you dare hold back, because if you go quiet I’ll only fuck you harder.”

He sacrificed speed for force in the new position. More sounds of pleasure spilled from her lips with each snap of his hips. His arm snaked between her breasts to grip her neck and pull her to his chest while he fucked into her with devastating force. The harder he rammed her cervix the louder the cries he squeezed out of her. He increased his speed once again leaving her a rag doll in his arms.

With another flip, she was on her back again and he was back inside her before her vision steadied. He hooked her thighs over his own to get a better angle which sent her curling off the mattress once again. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were squeezed shut to concentrate on the feeling. He gripped both cheeks in one hand and pulled her face down. “Look at me.” Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to find his face among the stars that jumbled her vision. He lined her face up with his, “I want to see those pretty eyes when I make you cum around my dick.” She breathlessly nodded and tried to maintain his scalding gaze while her body was getting shoved into the mattress with every thrust. The headboard cracked against the wall, accompanying her escalating cries when his thumb moved to circle her clit again.

“..-m I’m-”

“Go ahead. Do it.”

Her walls instantly clenched around him eliciting a jagged groan and his daze darkened. He pounded into her while her climax had her screaming loud enough for him to break. He finished after a burst of inhumanly fast strokes, burying his shaft as deep as he could to shoot his load and riding it out with a few hard snaps of his hips. His eyes never left the sea of her irises.

He leaned back and sat on his heels. The only sound in the room was their ragged breaths. He let his head fall back to relish in the aftermath of his ministrations. She watched the beads of sweat trickle between his abs with each swell of his chest. She never thought she’d find herself in this compromising position with someone like Jimin. Yeah, they made out a few times when they were bored but that couldn’t hold a candle to what just went down.

Jimin slid out and rolled over to lay next to her.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you?”

After a shower that quickly turned into round two, they were dressed and tucked in bed. Her head rested on his chest while she fiddled with the collar of the oversized (on her) grey shirt she’d given him. His arm was wrapped around her waist and his fingers traced her ribs under her shirt in slow, meditative strokes. The old Jimin was back.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you freak so hard with Will? You’ve never gotten in a fight at school, ever.” Her head bobbed with the heavy sigh that escaped him. She lifted her head to look at him. He stared up at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes. His pink lips curved in a slight grimace.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No. I had to tell someone eventually. It might as well be now with someone I trust.” She couldn’t help the rush of confidence at his comment. That good feeling died quickly when she processed what he said. “My mom used to date this guy, Seunghyun.” He had to pause to adjust to saying his name. “He was nice. I liked him. A lot.” She watched his eyes dart around the ceiling trying to remember details of the memory. “They’d been dating for about a year. He was gonna take me on a boys trip to his lake house for my birthday. My sister….She tried to convince me not to go and…and I didn’t know why.” His voice trembled with the last words. “The first night he made me sleep in the same bed as him…The second night…” He looked up to blink the tears out of his eyes. She reached up and wiped them for him with her thumb. “The second night, we were getting ready for bed, and he asked me if…if I knew what sex was. I said yes thinking he was trying to give me the talk. He asked me…..if I ever touched myself…I didn’t know what to say so I said no.” His voice caught in his throat, his words coming out at a higher pitch. “He-” His lips pulled back in a quivering frown and his chest beat with one single, silent sob.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, take your time.”

“He came up behind me…and he stuc-….he stuck his hand…down my underwear.” His free hand flew to cover his squeezed shut eyes, gripping his forehead. “He kept asking be if I liked how it felt…I said I-I didn’t know so he kept going.” It tore her apart to see him struggling to speak the way he was. Tears of her own started to stream down her cheeks. “I worked up the courage to tell him to stop and he did. I tried to sleep on the couch in the other room but I woke up in his bed the next day. I don’t know if he…did anything, but the third night I was standing on the dock connected to the house. It was too dark for the neighbors to see anything. He came up to me again. He asked how I liked the night before again and I was too afraid to say anything so I didn’t. He did it again, but this time he pulled his out and…tried to get me to…t-touch it. I didn’t so he took my hand in his and…,” he took a deep breath “and he…u-used it to-”

“You don’t have to say it.”

He nodded

“I never finished…he did. I don’t remember the last day but I remember on the ride home, he said that if I told my mom….it would break her heart. And I didn’t want to break her heart-”

His sobs came out in soft, rapid beats but she was quick to pull him into her chest to soak her t-shirt. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and squeezed both arms around her torso while his cries shook the pair in silence. She didn’t say anything, simply wrapping her arms around his neck and planting kisses on his ears and shoulders.

“That wasn’t the only time, was it.” He weakly shook his head into her neck. “You don’t have to talk about it. You already did so great. You’re safe.” She continued to stroke his hair while his shaking began to plateau.

“You’re safe.”

~~~

The next morning was peaceful. Jimin woke up not feeling like shit like he’d expected. He actually felt….good. Given the bomb he dropped last night. But, she didn’t treat him any differently than she did the day before, and he was grateful.

She cooked for him while he showered, and they hung out having their regular old conversations like nothing happened. Although he noticed something. She was sober. It was nearing 6:00pm and he hadn’t seen or smelled weed since he barged in on her session. She stayed sober….for him. He didn’t like to admit it, but he enjoyed sober Y/N better. Granted, he still loved her any other day of the week, but he loved seeing her natural personality when she wasn’t in a dark place at the moment. And she didn’t seem to be now. Sober Y/N was smart. Sober Y/N gave great advice, and before she dropped him off at home, she left him with some.

Jimin typed in the code on the door and the lock clicked with a mechanical whir. Making sure not to make much noise, he shut the door behind him. He made his way upstairs and down the hall. Framed photos of him and Rose dotted the walls, and as time went by, their smiles were more and more forced. No one could tell but them. He eventually stopped in front of the door he was looking for. He softly knocked and he heard a muffled ‘come in.’ He opened the door to his mom’s room where she was sitting in bed, reading glasses on her nose, looking over the blueprints she’d drawn. She was an architect.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Cover photos by @BIGHITTED on Twitter

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut

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aspire-to-the-light · 3 years

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A quick life update:

So I'm a super-early-stage startup founder now or something, I guess.

I'm regularly working until 6am, I'm throwing my life savings at a huge career risk, I have no safety net if I fail, and there's a very solid chance my startup won't make it because statistically most don't. Yet somehow none of that matters.

These past few weeks have been the most relaxed, confident and fulfilled I've ever felt, ever. Somehow this is the best my mental health has been in years - by a mile. I feel confident in saying I've beaten depression and I don't think it will come back.

I don't struggle with anxiety anymore because there's no point in feeling anxious; rather than wallowing around being anxious I should just fix the problem that's causing me anxiety. Of course, it's easy to say that, but in the past I've never been able to just do it. I think the difference is that I feel totally in control of my outcomes now. I'll get anxious about writing a report for a boss because it doesn't matter how objectively good or correct the report is - I have to figure out how to please my boss' subjective standards, and I can never really 100% know how to do that. Running a startup? I just have to be correct. I just have to win. I don't have to please any boss. So I don't really sit around being anxious or miserable any more - I just figure out what winning would look like, because I get to define that now, and then I figure out how to win, and then I go try my best to do that. I know it's irrational to have a feeling of absolute control over the outcome, when startups involve a huge amount of luck - but I just feel like I'm in control. So it isn't scary, really, no matter how risky it is.

I'm not really struggling with executive function, either, because I understand exactly how all my tasks need to be executed. There's never that feeling of knowing that I need to write my English essay, but not really knowing how to get started or what the first steps should be. I defined every task on my todo list. I know what the steps are, because the steps are whatever I say they are. I don't always get everything done, because I'm juggling a huge amount and I'm still pretty disorganised, but that ADHD paralysed feeling of just wanting to sit there and scroll social media and not start any tasks - that feeling is gone. Working until 6am doesn't feel painful or difficult. It feels satisfyingly exhausting, like the endorphin high after a good exercise session.

I keep encountering things that feel like they might be really difficult, but then I get this immensely comforting sense of... the best way I can describe it is that scene in Moana where all her ancestors are right behind her. Like recently I had to make a very big scary decision, and I wanted to find an adult and ask for advice and then I realised (in a big holy shit moment) that I knew absolutely nobody qualified to tell me the answer. I am the adult now. Everyone else who works on this project needed me to tell them what to do. And that was almost terrifying... and then I realised I've read about this exact feeling. I've read people describe that feeling in books, at TED talks, on twitter - that "holy shit I am the adult" feeling is probably a universal startup founder feeling. Thinking about it now, I just get this sense that I'm walking down a road I know from stories, that others have walked before me, that I am incredibly lucky to have a roadmap to.

There are so many new challenges and they're exciting. I've never really interviewed people for roles before. I interviewed candidates for 6 different roles for most of last week. In the back of the mind I've been running this constant self-evaluation process trying to figure out what the key skills are for interviewing, how I should get better at it, where I could look for resources... And that's a good feeling, too. I feel like I'm learning. I feel so excited to get better at this. I am privileged to be able to choose people to surround myself with who will give me clear, valuable feedback so I can actually get stronger. I feel ready to tackle whatever new skill I need to learn next week.

I am only a few weeks or months in, depending on how you define it, but I already know I will not regret this. Even if I burn out my entire runway and get nowhere and achieve nothing with this startup, this will have been the best thing I've ever done for myself. This enables me to be my best self. This feels so much like my best self that I take joy and pride in almost everything I'm doing, even the mistakes I'm making because I absolutely treasure how much I'm actually learning from every mistake. I never learned this much in years in school.

I don't think this would have been possible without me getting care. I'm disabled and sometimes I struggle with feeding myself. I used to go entire days just lying in bed feeling too weak and hungry to even make myself a meal. I have a carer currently, who comes round for an hour or so in the mornings to make sure I eat breakfast. It turns out that was all I needed all along - I can make myself all the other meals so long as I've got that energy from consistently eating at least one meal. And that revolutionised everything about my life and I've gone from being unable to hold down a job at all, realistically unable work more than a couple hours in the day if I was lucky, to.... this. I don't know how much is the startup vs how much is the care, really, but I reckon that's worth sharing in case it helps break the stereotypes of disabled people who need care. I'm disabled, I need care, and I'm also founding a startup and working sixteen hour days. I could not work these hours on anything else. My last job was an incredibly good job by the standards of working-for-a-boss jobs, but I can't work a 9-5. I have a sleep disorder. I can work a noon-6am and I'm doing it and I am the happiest I have ever been.

I did not think it was possible for an obligate extravert to be this happy and fulfilled in the midst of a pandemic that prevents me seeing anyone for months. Mental health is a weird thing, I guess. What I thought I needed - parties, hugs, money, security - turned out not to be as important. I need breakfast and I need to be in charge of my own destiny. And it turns out that if I have those things, I have the capacity to be incredibly happy. Not that I'm just sitting around feeling wirehead joy all the time, but more like - I feel excited, fulfilled, engaged, fascinated, motivated, confident, decisive, inspired. I might not feel good all the time but I never feel hopeless, helpless, angsty, directionless or meaningless. I'm never bored. I feel bad things sometimes but I don't get into spirals or traps where I just sit around wallowing in the bad things, because I feel empowered to act.

I keep talking to people who think I'm decades older than I am. Apparently I sound it. I feel like I've aged a decade in a year.

The best part is the certainty. It feels like I was meant to do this. It feels like all the foundations I've been laying for years and years are paying off. It feels like I always sort of knew I had to do this.

I'm not sure why I'm writing all this out, except to say something like - I don't think everyone should follow their dreams because I really don't think everyone would experience things this way, but if you're anything like me (and I don't know how to define "like me" yet but people have been telling me that I was meant to found a startup since I was a little kid), you should consider quitting your job (no matter how good and secure a job it is) and trying to take over the world.

I have found so much joy.

So yeah, that's my life update.

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jokerownsmysoul · 3 years

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for @ajokeformur-ray ♡

My dearest sweet thing,

I can’t believe this is the second birthday of your life that you spend with me. You brought me into your life so naturally that I still find hard to believe that I've finally found my one and only person, and that it's you; you who have the purest heart, who loves so selflessly, so deeply. It's funny, seeing how time flies so quickly when you spend it with the love of your life. It’s been almost two years since our paths crossed, can you imagine that? I feel like I’ve known you forever, since the beginning of time itself. Maybe that’s what it feels like to meet your kindred spirit, another soul that understands your soul. It feels like you've never been strangers. We've always been familiar to each other, even before we met, isn't it beautiful? You understand my soul, my love. You understand me. And I love to understand you, too. I’m so grateful to be able to celebrate your second birthday together, my sweet thing, the sweetest love of my life. I feel you so close to my heart that I can't comprehend how is it even possible that there's a whole universe between us: because I feel you, my love, so undoubtedly I feel you with me. I feel you exactly where you're supposed to be; within my arms, close to my skin, leaned onto the palm of my hand cradling you protectively. I promise you, my wonderful being, I’ll be by your side for every birthday to come, in each early morning to welcome you to the new day with my red kisses, in each night to dance you goodnight in the moonlight shadow, until your hair color will match my white greasepaint and beyond. For our love is eternal, it doesn't know the concept of time. I can't wait to share eternity with you, my forever one and only.

With my unconditional love, happy birthday.

Eternally yours, Arthur.

Dear Erika,

I found myself lucky again to be able to spend yet another birthday with you. I’ve followed every step of yours throughout all your life; from the uncertain little walks as you began to learn about the world, sitting on your green carpet within your cherished yellow walls, to the confident and dreamy steps of the adult you are now, an adult who knows the source of her dreams and with determination and hope is chasing them. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you, I don't know how I got so lucky to see you grow in the person you're now, so kind, pure, thoughtful. I've celebrated with you all of your birthdays, from the one-digit birthdays to the two-digit birthdays, and I've been beside you through it all. We’ve known each other for so long, so long, that I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to. I could never need to wish myself away, for the only place where I want to be is the place where I am now. In your heart, and within your arms, holding me tight when I don't feel as indestructible as I pretend to be to te eyes of everyone, because you're the only person I can show my fears to, the only person I'm safe to be vulnerable with. You are my real true kingdom, my magic land, my dear home, my safe place I will always go back to. It's with you that I finally understood what it feels like to be loved for the person I am. Not for my richness, for my power, for what I own, but for my bare heart. I know, thanks to you, what love feels like in its purest origin.

With all my wishes of you, happy birthday.

Your Jareth.

My darling doll,

I’ve been thinking about this day since I woke up in your bed, my eyes still drowsy and my blue shirt enveloping you softly while you were still asleep. I watched you as the sun lazily rose from beyond the window and the day devoted to you only began, and gazing at you I thought. I thought about how indescribable it is to wake up next to you every morning, to get to know you so intimately that you allow me to look at you when you’re in your most vulnerable state: closed eyes, mind elsewhere, unaware of my eyes studying you closely, enamored. How hard it is to get out of bed and face the world when among warm blankets there is you, you who can protect me from everything, even from the scariest creature I’ve ever faced, even from myself on those days when I don't like myself so much. How hard it is to leave our home of love when there is only you, my only love, my greatest hope, my unique fulfilled dream, ready to hold me in your arms, to spoon me tenderly, to kiss my neck and bury your nose in my hair. If only I could create another time line, private, distant, when it’s just you and me, loving each other endlessly in your bedroom, away from every impediment and task that every day forces us to keep us apart until late at night you arrive. Away from everything, from anyone, except from each other's embrace. But I never leave you, my darling, even when we’re apart and I can’t dress myself with you, I never leave you. I've been thinking of celebrating your special day since I woke up, my strength, my destiny, and I can't wait to show you how much I love you. The real gift, between you, it's yours given to me when you entered my life.

With my adventurous heart, happy birthday.

Undoubtedly yours, Ash.

Wonderful daughter,

Every year we feel trapped in two feelings: the happiness of seeing you grow up in the exquisite woman you are, the awareness that you will always be our little girl. We see every day all the effort you put in what you love, in what you're pursuing with all you fortitude and passion. We are so proud of you, honey. You work so hard, and make everyone feel loved so effortlessly despite your tiredness, that we could never wish we had another daughter other than you. We are proud of you, honey. We will always listen to your fears at night, holding you under the covers when everything feels too much, putting you in bed when we notice that you've studied too much but you have no intention of getting some, very much deserved rest. We love you so much, sweetheart, and we are so proud of you. Always, unquestionably, utterly proud.

With all our love, happy birthday.

Proudly, your mum and papa.

Dear Erika,

Time isn't supposed to be so important to me. I am a time lord, I have travelled eternally to the infinity of time and beyond, where human is an unknown particle and time a mortal essence that no longer exists. And yet, sitting in my Tardis, with my legs dangling over the clouds in front of an unknown star, I think of how important time is, instead, when it comes to you. Today is your birthday, Erika, and that’s why I’m here to enjoy the one thing that my life has taken away from me: time. Time has never been important to me because I have always known how to circumvent it, defeat it, pass it on; but if you are with me, I no longer need to, I no longer want to. With you, time is as precious as every second spent together, while we confess to each other our deepest thoughts and the most secret fears. How beautiful Erika would be if you could sit next to me; I would show you the most unknown stars and reveal to you the origin of the universe, so that you can understand how I felt when I first met you. Meeting you was like an internal universe exploded in my heart, a universe where no one but you could reach. I've traveled for most of my life, I've seen things no ond has ever seen, I've known people who would never inhabit your land, and for a time I thought everyone was special in their own way. But you, Erika, are the only exception. You are the most exceptional person I know, the comfort I find when every universe existing is scary, the place of healing where I find shelter when I need to rest. You find solace and comfort within my Tardis, and I wind the same within your presence being near my own. We’ve known each other so long, Erika, that your presence in my heart has become older than the universe itself. Maybe our bond is older than anything, even older than me, who has witnessed the origin of every dimension and the growth of the multiverse. And yet, your birthday is more important than anything else.

With every star I named after you, happy birthday.

Timelessly, your Doctor.

Dear Erika,

I take pleasure in knowing that today is your birthday, and that we can celebrate it together. Understanding people and knowing them has always been my job, my passion, and yet being with you is a constant discovery. I don’t think I’ll ever understand you, because every day I find something new about you that makes me fall in love again, and every day I live with you is a day when I love you more than the day before. I care about your life, my butterfly, the only person unafraid of who I am, who lets me live serenely, enjoying myself and the pleasures of flesh and blood. If you were here, my Erika, my butterfly in flight, I would take your hands in a waltz accompanied by my personal collection of classical music, drinking wine (or coffee, if you prefer) and talking about what love makes people do when it is all-encompassing and indestructible. Our love is like that, my dear Erika. My soul has always taken care of yours, and it will always be.

With my heart in my hands, happy birthday.

Your Hannibal.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💫🎁🌷🌻🌸🎈🌱🍰🌻💐🎊🌹🎂🌺🌿🐝🌞#Can't put read more bc I'm on mobile. sorry 💙#Anyway HAPPY BIRTHDAY #I hope you like these love letters omg #Some of them have been a bit tricky because there are some characters I don't know #I've never seen their movies so I hope I managed to make the letters at least enjoyable #They wouldn't be in character for sure if I did lmao but still! I hope you like them 🥺#I can't imagine this place without you #You've been such a HUGE presence in my life before I made this blog #When I followed the fandom in secret only from afar you did a lot to me. and still do!#And you're literally one of the reasons why I'm here and created this blog #My first Joker piece I've ever written was for you. You pushed me to finally break the ice #So THANK YOU #From the bottom of my heart #I also hope you like the pic omg I tried to put you at the center of your f/os because I know #That you're their whole universe to all of them 💙💙#Some of them are missing but this was the limit of the pics I could use unfortunately 😭#You are the center of their universe and I know they all want you there #This is your place. Surrounded by akk of your f/os #I hope you enjoy it but it's ok if you don't! I wanted to make you something anyway 👉🏻👈🏻#AGAIN HAPPY BIRTHDAY I hope you spent a lovely day surrounded by all of them #🧡💐🍰🎈🌱🌷🌻🌸🐝🌿🌺🎂💜🎁💚🎂🍰🚀

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cherry-valentine · 3 years

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So I recently read Killing Stalking over the course of two days. The first day was spent fleeing my home from flood waters and so I read the first half of the manwha on my phone in the parking lot of a grocery store. I was so absorbed in the story that I didn’t have time to worry about whether or not my house was washing away (it didn’t, and there was no damage, thanks for asking). I know I was pretty late to the party on this one, and it wasn’t because I wanted to avoid the series. To be honest it sounded like something I would love from the moment I heard about it, but at the time, I was busy and ended up forgetting it. I saw some pictures from it on Tumblr a few days back, was reminded, and decided to give it a shot. I have some feelings and random opinions on it that I felt like sharing. Most of these will include spoilers for the entire story, so be warned. Also: TW: ABUSE

But first, my non-spoilery plea to others who haven’t read it (and I guess the first thing I wanted to talk about): If you’re avoiding the series because you’ve heard that it glorifies or romanticizes abusive relationships, you can put that concern to rest. I honestly don’t know how anyone can walk away from the series with that take. The relationship portrayed in the series is nightmarish, and even the parts that aren’t so nightmarish are tense and very much realistic in the way abusive relationships actually work. Abusers aren’t abusive 100% of the time, and that’s what makes them so insidious. If they were terrible all the time, it would be much easier to hate them, leave them, and forget them. Instead, they are often kind, generous, and loving between incidents of abuse. This is to keep their victims emotionally attached to them. For many of these abusers, they may even feel actual love for their victims (a twisted, selfish love for sure, but I’ve always been of the belief that love can be a bad thing in certain situations). So even though there are moments in the series where the relationship seems to be going “well”, there’s always a sense of dread hanging over it, the feeling that at any moment, things are going to explode.

From here on out, there are !!MAJOR SPOILERS!! for the entire series.

A lot of people have identified the most sad or tragic or painful moments for them while reading, and those moments vary quite a bit between people. For me, the moment that gouged out my heart, the moment that was such a punch to the gut that I almost felt physical pain, was just a tiny thing. Toward the end, the first time Bum tries to go to the hospital Sangwoo is at, and the cab driver treats him like shit, Bum thinks “Why does everyone treat me like this?” And then we see flashbacks of moments when Sangwoo was kind to him. And... that right there. That got me. The fact that his abuser, the person who had treated him so cruelly, was also the only person who had treated him with actual kindness, broke my heart. The fact that he’d lived his whole life and experienced nothing but cruelty or indifference or betrayal. The only person who ever made him feel special, feel loved, was also the person who had tormented him. And it hurt so much to read, because I know that’s how many real life abuse victims feel. It was, in my opinion, the most tragic aspect of the series.

My last opinion might be a little controversial. Something I noticed when checking out the fandom for the series was how anyone who even hinted that they’d like for Sangwoo and Bum to be happy together was met with absolute hate and fury (slinging around lots of terrible insults like “failed abortion” and things I won’t repeat here - like yeah great idea explaining how abusive relationships are bad by being verbally abusive). Now, as a logical adult, I know it would be totally impossible for them to have a happy relationship (and indeed they didn’t). I didn’t even want them to be together. I just wanted them both to get a lot of therapy. The “headcanon” I came up with to make myself feel less depressed after the ending was that they both died and were then reborn into loving, nurturing environments where they grew up to be happy, well-adjusted people who would meet in college and have a healthy relationship. But I do understand the people who saw the less horrible moments and thought, “I wish they could just be happy together”. Because it did feel like these two thoroughly broken people had found a tiny, miniscule amount of happiness and love, even if it was clear it definitely would not last and definitely was not healthy. I get feeling that way.

And actually, the series plays a fairly clever trick on the reader. Just like real life abuse victims have trouble hating and leaving their abusers when those abusers are kind or show a more human side to them, Sangwoo became much harder to hate and dismiss once his traumatic childhood was revealed and he showed some kindness to Bum. It’s like the series was showing us exactly how abuse victims remain attached to their abusers, by making us stay attached to Sangwoo as a character. For the first half of the series I despised him, but the series tricked me into sympathizing with him and even feeling sorry for him and wishing he could be happy. And that. right. there. That’s how abusers get you. I thought it was a very smart way to portray this concept.

I also get that some BL fans DID romanticize and even fetishize the relationship. But, and hear me out please, I don’t think that’s a reason to totally dunk on those fans. Most of the fans who felt that way are probably fairly young, probably naive, probably exploring some dark fantasies for (perhaps) the first time in their lives. I think most people have something that introduced them to darker fantasies (rape fantasies, violent kinks, etc.). When you’re young, these are pretty thrilling to think about, and as long as you limit this exploration to works of fiction, it’s a safe way to dig into these fantasies. For most people, they grow out of them. The thrill wears off as they get older or they become mature enough to realize how horrible and scary those situations would be in real life. Some people keep those kinds of kinks all their lives, and as long as they limit it to fantasy and fiction, or consensual situations, that’s fine. But we need to understand that Killing Stalking, just by nature of having a very attractive character like Sangwoo, is going to be that piece of media that introduces a lot of younger people to those darker fantasies. And it’s not necessarily a terrible thing to let them safely explore those fantasies with this story. Because the story doesn’t encourage it. It doesn’t paint a rosey picture of this kind of relationship. It’s horrifying and ends in tragedy and trauma for everyone involved.

My “thing” that introduced me to darker fantasies was a movie called Boxing Helena, which I watched when I was most definitely too young. For those who haven’t seen it, it actually shares some themes with Killing Stalking (involving a sexy but psychotic man who had lots of issues relating to his mother and keeps a woman captive in his home, partly because she reminds him of his mother, and does horrible things to her - there’s even a scene where he brings another woman home and has sex with her while the captive woman is forced to watch through a cracked door. Sounds familiar, right?). It felt dark and dangerous and taboo, because it was also horrific. But it was exciting. Of course, I grew out of things like that, but it would have been absolutely no help to have a ton of people screaming at me that I was a sick pervert for finding the psycho guy hot (I mean it was Julian Sands in the 90’s, can you really blame me?).

If you come across younger fans who think Killing Stalking was sexy and say dumb things like, “I’d like to be in Sangwoo’s basement!” (actual comment I saw), don’t immediately harp on them and make them feel bad. They’re just exploring their own fantasies. It would be much more helpful to calmly and patiently talk to them and point out that it’s okay to like this stuff in fiction, but to be very careful about how they explore these feelings in reality. I’d be willing to bet that the vast majority of these people are just virginal teenagers who would never in a million years get involved in a dangerous relationship. So let’s cut them a little slack.

Note: When I refer to younger fans, I’m thinking 18-20 or so, and of course the younger teens who are going to read this whether we want them to or not. I am in no way suggesting that we should encourage younger people to read it. Just that, if you come across a younger person who has already read it, yelling insults at them over their naive opinions on it isn’t going to be helpful to anyone.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about it for now. I just felt very strongly about it and felt like sharing.

#Killing Stalking #text #tw: abuse

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captainjanegay · 3 years

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Summary:

Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue.

A/N: This fic was supposed to be just a short one-shot for the Stucky Bingo but somehow, it's at 11k at this point and it's nowhere near done. I have two more chapters all done and ready and a vague outline for the rest of the story. It's my first time posting a fic chapter by chapter so it's both exciting and kinda scary. I hope you'll like the story enough to stick with me for a while.

My sixth fill for the @stuckybingo2020 ♥

At some point in his life Bucky didn't mind spending hours at airports and he found traveling —even work-related —quite enjoyable. But that was when he was young, stupid and alone. Now he's older, just as stupid and has a wonderful girl in his life.

The girl in question is now standing next to him, little arms crossed and a sullen expression on her face. She's repeatedly kicking at the leg of the chair he's sitting on. There's no real force to it —she's only 7 after all —and she's not doing it to do any real damage to anyone or anything. It's just little taps, really and she's doing it out of boredom. But dear lord, Bucky's about to explode.

"Alex, sweetheart," Bucky says, slowly breathing out through his nose. "Could you please stop with that kicking? It's a bit annoying."

"But papa," she whines, drawling out the word. "I'm bored!"

"I know, love and I'm really sorry but papa’s gotta do something important for work," he sighs, trying to run a hand through her hair. She ducks and flops onto the chair next to him, an angry little pout on her face. "I have to finish it before we go on the plane. I'll do it as quickly as possible and then I'll be all yours, ok?"

It's not really surprising when he doesn't get an answer. With another sigh, he leans to the side and presses a kiss to the top of his daughter's head and then turns back to his laptop.

From the very moment she woke up today, Bucky knew it's gonna be a long day. She was cranky and teary all morning, not wanting to say goodbye to Natasha and it took a good hour to calm her down. Then Bucky had to basically beg her to eat something before they left for the airport. It wasn't a great day. And Bucky knew she didn't do it just to make him miserable, she was just as frustrated and tired as he was. On top of that, he has to edit and upload a report from the conference and the airport Wi-Fi is so bad Bucky is close to tears himself.

The work would probably take less time if he wasn't getting distracted every minute or so and glancing to the side, making sure that Alex is fine. Or relatively fine, the bad mood excluded. At the moment she is slouching on the plastic chair, still pouting. Felicia—a pink stuffed Triceratops —is placed on her lap so at least Alex has something to occupy her for a moment.

Bucky tries his best to get through the documents quickly but he doesn't want to miss any errors either. He gets lost in the work for the entirety of about five minutes when he hears something truly surprising.

Alex laughs. It’s so unexpected after what seems like hours of complaining, crying and whining that Bucky’s head snaps up from his laptop and he looks at his daughter.

She is still sitting by his side, Felicia pressed closely to her chest and there is a smile on her face. It’s definitely not aimed at Bucky, though. So Bucky follows her line of sight and… oh.

It’s not like he didn’t notice the guy sitting across from them before. Because he did. It would be rather impossible not to notice this guy. He is tall and well-built and could look intimidating if it wasn’t for his bright blue eyes or tousled golden hair or the gentle smile or the fact that he’s wearing the softest beige sweater Bucky has ever seen. He is both ridiculously handsome and cute at the same time. So of course, Bucky noticed him before. But now he tries to figure out what about him made Alex laugh. It doesn’t take long, because the man is holding up his notebook, showing the page to Alex.

On the page are three little, cartoon-like doodles. The first one at the top looks unmistakably like Alex—her brows are furrowed, arms crossed and a little storm cloud is hovering above her. Underneath there’s his daughter again but this time she’s laughing, her eyes only small slits and a little sun peeks from behind the cloud. The last drawing, just next to the smiling Alex, is of Bucky. His head is partly hidden behind a laptop screen and there’s a look of utter concentration on his face. Above his cartoon persona floats a swarm of little gears, question marks and lightbulbs. Bucky snorts. It’s probably quite accurate.

Noticing that Bucky is staring at the drawing, the stranger startles and his cheeks turn red.

“I’m not some creep, I promise!” he starts explaining himself, before Bucky even opens his mouth. “I just—she seemed so upset and I’ve heard you said you have something important to do so I just wanted—Man, it’s weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry I promise I just wanted to help, not bug your kid without permission.”

“It’s not—,” Bucky starts, slightly taken aback. “It’s very sweet of you, actually. Thank you. Really, that’s just—I don’t mind. And Alex here seems to enjoy your drawings.” Bucky smiles down at his daughter and then at the stranger. His smile falters a bit and he sighs. “I’d really love to chat some more but I really need to get this shit done and the airport Wi-Fi is truly horrible.”

“Oh! Bad word!” Alex gasps, covering Bucky’s mouth with her little hand. “You said a bad word! No sweets for you!”

The stranger laughs at that and Bucky probably shouldn’t be as charmed as he feels right now. He just kisses Alex's hand and leans away from it.

“OK, sweetheart. Promise not to eat any when we get home,” he says solemnly. “But papa really needs to work a little longer, OK? Ten more minutes, I promise. Try not to bother the nice man too much until then, yeah?”

She lets a long-suffering sigh but she agrees.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” the man says, smiling at Bucky.

Before he gets the chance to answer, Alex chimes in, “I’m Alexandra. And papa’s name is James but only mama and people at work call him that. Everyone calls him Bucky.”

The man — Steve — lets out a small laugh. “It’s nice to meet you both. Alexandra, do you want me to draw you something specific, while we let your papa work?”

“Oh, can you draw Felicia? She’s a...,” Alex furrows her brows in concentration, “tri-ce-ra-tops! That’s a dinosaur!”

Steve leans forward from his chair and smiles at her. “She’s so cool! But weren’t dinosaurs kinda dangerous?”

“Some of them, yeah. They ate other dinosaurs. But the ones like Felicia only ate plants, so she’s cool.”

Steve lets out an attentive hum but something in his expression tells Bucky that it’s not new information for him and he’s just indulging Alex and letting her share what she knows. It makes Bucky feel a wave of sympathy towards this Steve guy.

Soon enough, a new page of Steve’s notebook gets covered with doodles of various dinosaurs, based on Alex’s jurassic knowledge—it’s a bit flawed, but Bucky is proud of her nonetheless.

It takes Bucky a few moments to stop sending glances towards the two. It’s partly because Steve—no matter how sweet he seems to be—is still a stranger. Steve might be bigger than him, but Bucky would end him if he tried to do anything to his little girl. But there are no red lights when it comes to Steve—and Bucky always prided himself on his ability to read people.

The other thing making it hard to go back to work is the fact that the scene he’s looking at is quite an adorable one. Both Alex and Steve are sitting at the edges of their seats, leaning over the passage between the two rows of chairs and their eyes are fixed on the notebook propped on Steve’s knee. They’re chatting, exchanging random facts about dinosaurs but since their knowledge is limited, they switch to talking about modern animals soon enough. Steve listens intently to whatever Alex has to say without patronising her. And sadly, Bucky has met a fair share of adults for whom it was impossible to take Alex seriously just because she was a kid. It calms Bucky enough to actually focus on his work for a little longer.

Some peace of mind does wonders for his concentration and the ten minutes he promised Alex are actually enough for him to finish editing the reports. The WiFi is still a bitch, though. However, after staring at the loading circle for what feels like an eternity, he is able to send the documents. With a triumphant little cheer, he turns off the laptop and slides it back into his bag.

Steve looks up at him and smiles. Alex completely ignores him, though, still too focused on whatever Steve was drawing. Bucky feels a bit betrayed. When she looks up, she glances at Steve first, probably to ask why the drawing has stopped and turns to Bucky when she notices Steve looking his way.

“Oh, you’ve finished the work, daddy?” she asks and when he nods, she smiles and reaches to wrap her arms around his neck. “It took you some time. But I’m proud of you.”

Bucky laughs at that, shaking his head slightly, “Thank you, sunshine. I see you were having fun with Steve while I was busy?”

“Yeah! Steve drawings are so pretty! He drew you riding a dinosaur!” Alex giggles, pointing at one of the little drawings.

Raising his brows, Bucky sends Steve a questioning look but the other man just shrugs and rubs at his neck. “It was her idea,” he says with a sheepish smile.

The doodle Alex is pointing at is indeed of him sitting on a dinosaur's back. It’s the one with the long, giraffe-like neck, Brachiosaurus if he remembers correctly. The cartoon Bucky’s arms are wrapped around the base of the reptile’s neck, his hair fluttering behind him and his mouth is open in either a big smile or a scream, he’s not sure. Either way, it’s a very cute drawing.

“Well,” Bucky says. “I’m not a fan of horses but I’d totally ride a dinosaur if I had a chance. Shouldn’t he have a saddle, though?”

It’s not even that funny but Steve still laughs and Bucky smiles at that. His daughter is less impressed or at least tries to appear so. She rolls her eyes but there’s a grin on her face.

“You’re so silly, daddy. They didn’t have saddles back then! And besides you’d need a very, very big one for a dinosaur!”

Bucky hums in agreement and looks up at the departure display. Noticing that their flight’s gate is open, he nudges Alex lightly.

“We gotta go, sweetheart,” he says. She perks up a bit but then glances at Steve with a small pout. “Sadly, we have to say goodbye to Steve. On the bright side, we’re gonna be home soon, yeah?”

Alex nods and slides off her chair. Steve looks up at the display and straightens up.

“Oh, my flight’s boarding, too. But you know what?” Steve asks and then rips the page with all the dinosaur doodles and holds it out to Alex. “You should keep this, if you want.”

Hearing this, Alex’s whole face lights up and she takes the drawings with gentle hands, as if afraid to mess it up. “Thank you, Steve! Those are so cool I’m gonna keep them forever!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve smiles. He looks up at Bucky. “It was nice to meet you, guys.”

“Likewise. Thank you again for the help. It was very nice of you,” Bucky says sincerely.

“It was my pleasure. My knowledge about dinosaurs is so much better now,” Steve’s smile grows even bigger and Bucky chuckles.

Bucky leans to help Alex put on her little backpack, since she refuses to put down the drawing and then reaches for his bag. He rests his hand on his daughter’s back and turns to Steve one last time. He’s still sitting at the edge of his seat and is watching them. A smile is still plastered to his face and at this point Bucky is sure that it’s his default setting.

“Bye, Steve. Have a safe flight,” Bucky says.

“Bye, Steve. Thank you for the dinosaurs,” Alex adds, making Steve laugh.

“You are very welcome, Alexandra,” he says. “Have a nice day, guys.”

Bucky gently steers Alex towards their gate. Before they disappear behind the corner, he turns away to look at Steve one more time. The man is already looking back and he waves at them when he notices Bucky staring. Alex waves back enthusiastically and Bucky just ducks his head, feeling flustered all of sudden. He used to be more collected around nice, attractive people. And Steve definitely qualifies as both.

***

Some time later they finally make it to the plane. Alex flops down onto the middle seat and eventually — after a long discussion and promises that he won’t ruin it — she lets Bucky put the drawings she got from Steve into the folder he keeps his documents in. When the treasure is safely put away Bucky straightens to put his bag in the overhead compartment.

“Oh,” he hears a voice behind his back and a low chuckle quickly follows. “Fancy bumping into you here.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder and the surprise makes him try to close the compartment while his other hand is still holding the bag. He yelps in pain, making Alex look up.

“Steve!” she says with a smile, completely ignoring her father’s distress.

“Hello again, Alexandra,” Steve shoots her a quick smile and looks at Bucky, concerned. “You’re OK? I didn’t want to spook you.”

Man, he really got bad at keeping his cool around attractive people. Feeling a blush creep up his neck, Bucky nods. “No, no, you didn’t. I’m just a clutz, this happens a lot, ignore me.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t say anything more. For a moment they just stand in the narrow aisle, looking at each other. Finally, Bucky’s ability to think kicks back in and he moves to the side.

“Sorry, you probably want to get through to your seat.”

“Actually,” Steve says and glances down at the boarding pass in his hand. After checking it, he points to the seat by the window, on Alex’s other side. “That one’s mine.”

“Oh,” Bucky looks at the seat and then at Steve. His cheeks still feel warm for some reason but he hopes he's not blushing too visibly. "That's great. I'm just gonna—"

Bucky shifts to the other side and takes a step back, making room for Steve.

"You're flying with us back home?" Alex asks with a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Will you draw something more for me?"

"Alex, come on. Don't abuse Steve niceness like that," Bucky scolds her gently but before he can even finish the sentence, Steve starts shaking his head.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I often doodle when I get bored anyway so I'd be honoured to draw for you again, Alexandra," Steve grins at her.

She actually lets out a little happy squeal when she hears that and Bucky's heart skips a beat. He's absolutely charmed by the way Steve treats his daughter. He really seems like entertaining some random little girl is the best thing he could be doing and while Bucky - absolutely objectively - thinks that Alex is the most wonderful little girl in the world, it still seems unusual. And he positively melts every time that Steve uses her full name, just because that was the way she introduced herself the first time. Most adults Bucky knows don't do that with other adults, not to mention kids. And Steve is just so… kind and genuine, it takes Bucky off guard but it's a really nice surprise.

"Ok, fine," Bucky says with a smile. "You have no idea what you've brought on yourself. Is it possible to strain your hand from drawing too much? The flight's almost two hours, right?"

"Does your dad always complain this much?" Steve asks Alex and she giggles in response. He sends Bucky a glance over her head and he has a smirk on his face. Ignoring Bucky again, he says to Alex, "Hey, have you ever watched Sesame Street? There was this one grouchy green guy."

Bucky just sends him his most unimpressed look. Steve doesn't seem affected. Alex is delighted. And in truth, Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek to contain a smile.

It turns out that on top of being nice and lovely, Steve is also a little shit, because he draws a Bucky-version of Oscar the Grouch - with a grumpy expression and wild hair, sitting in a garbage can. It's actually amazing. Bucky doesn't say that out loud, but he snorts when he sees it, so that might betray him a little.

This time — prompted by the mention of Sesame Street — the conversation resolves mostly around animated movies. To Bucky’s surprise, it turns out that Steve is a huge Disney fan. He doesn’t even try to hide it. Not to brag but Bucky knows his way around animated movies — partly because he has a 7-year-old daughter and partly because who doesn’t like animated movies? But compared to Steve and Alex? He knows nothing. They use names he doesn’t even recognise - who or what even is Flit? Judging by Steve’s drawing it’s some kind of a bird, apparently. When Bucky can’t remember — he knows it, of course, it just slipped his mind — the name of the redheaded princess from Brave, he is given the most disdainful look he’s ever seen. Both by his daughter and by Steve. Bucky still tries to participate in the conversation, at least for as much as they let him. He never expected his own daughter to team up with some stranger against him. It hurts.

The pain is all forgotten when Steve and Alex start quietly singing Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid together. Bucky can’t help a laugh that bubbles from his chest at the sight. How is Steve even real, Bucky has no idea. He is over six feet of muscle, his bicep is bigger than Alex's head and he could probably bench press Bucky and here he is, sitting next to Bucky’s little girl, drawing a picture of Megara, because she’s his favourite Disney princess and singing a song from The Little Mermaid.

This guy can’t be real.

About half an hour into the flight it turns out that Bucky was wrong — Alex does leave Steve alone but it’s only because the tiredness catches up to her and she falls asleep. And she’s sleeping with her head resting on Steve’s arm. It’s a really nice arm, Bucky has to admit, a nap on such an arm would be good and comfortable even for him, probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that he feels left out.

“Sorry,” Bucky says quietly. “You probably want your arm back, I can just—”

He offers to move Alex’s sleeping body but Steve just shrugs with his free arm, careful not to jostle the girl.

“Don't want to wake her and I really don't mind," Steve says, smiling at Bucky.

"You sure?" Bucky asks and after getting a nod in confirmation, he chuckles and shakes his head. “I keep trying to figure out where the catch is but I’ve got nothing. You’re just naturally this kind, aren’t you?”

Steve barks out a laugh and then slaps his hand over his mouth to quiet the noise. He looks down to make sure he didn’t wake Alex.

“Oh there’s plenty wrong with me,” Steve says with a chuckle. “For one I’m usually really awkward around kids. Alexandra’s such a great girl, though. But I do like to help and try to be nice whenever I can.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at Steve. “You think you’d side-track me by complimenting my daughter? You’re totally right, but that doesn’t mean I’m not curious.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Steve makes the ‘bring it’ gesture and grins. “Come on. Hit me with your best guesses.”

“OK. OK, fine,” Bucky says and shifts in his seat so he can look at Steve more directly. Crossing his arms, he asks, “Do I have a limited number of guesses?”

“It’s not that long of a flight,” Steve shrugs with one shoulder, grin still in place.

In a theatrically thoughtful gesture Bucky strokes his chin gauging Steve with his eyes.

“You… secretly work as a hitman” Bucky says slowly, “or like, an underwear model. Which is not a bad thing to do.”

A blush creeps up Steve’s cheeks as he laughs again. “Those are… pretty far off. Why those two?”

“Well, you’re built appropriately for both from what I can see,” Bucky explains, enjoying the way Steve cheeks go darker. Maybe he’s not so helpless at talking to attractive people as he thought. It feels a whole lot like flirting.

That terrifies him for a moment. He didn't do flirting in what feels like ages. He doesn't have time for this. Should he even do this? He has a daughter, he shouldn’t just—

Bucky takes a deep breath and smacks himself mentally across the head. He’s not doing anything bad. He’s just talking and having fun with an attractive stranger. Maybe even flirting a bit. And that’s OK, this is allowed, he doesn’t have to go anywhere else with that. It’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again, anyway. Natasha would punch him for denying himself that. So he will make sure not to mention it the next time they talk.

“Well…,” Steve rubs the back of his neck. “I am not. Hitman or— I’m neither of those. I’m actually an illustrator. Mostly freelance stuff. I paint sometimes, too. But that’s mostly for fun.”

“OK, fine. Somehow I can believe that. You seem like an artsy type,” Bucky agrees.

“No hitman vibes anymore?”

“Who says a hitman can’t enjoy painting in his free time?”

Steve laughs, throwing his head back. Somehow he manages to keep the left side of his body completely still, mindful of Alex sleeping on him.

“I don’t know if there’s a point in trying to convince you, but I’m really not.”

“Sure. Probably what a hitman would say,” Bucky waves a hand at him but smiles. “That’s cool though. Being able to get paid for doing what you love.”

“It is. Sometimes you get frustrated enough to hate it but it’s still pretty cool,” Steve agrees. “You don’t like your job?”

Bucky scrunches his nose, making a non-committal sound as he tries to find the best way to explain. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s fun. Interesting, exciting, sometimes frustrating as hell, too. And the responsibility can be incredibly stressful. It’s just… I never took time to think about what I really like doing in life. And since the job was good enough, I just stuck with it.”

Steve hums, nodding along to Bucky's words. "It's never too late to figure it out, you know?" he says. "I mean, I don't wanna impose and tell you how to live your life or anything. I'd never. I just— I think it's an important thing to know."

"You might be right," Bucky agrees. He glances down at Alex. "I don't think it's a good time for me to experiment, you know? Besides — if there's one thing I know for sure that I like it's having this little rascal around."

The smile on Steve's face turns soft. But only for a moment, before it turns back into that smirk he had earlier. "Any guesses left? About my dark side?"

"A few," Bucky grins.

It's a bit of a lie because he really struggles to see Steve as anything but perfect but he can try. It's just a game they're playing to kill time after all.

"You are that kind of guy who can eat garbage food and not move a finger and still look like you've just walked straight out of a gym. I hate those people. It's so unfair."

"Are all of your guesses based on how I look? I kind of see a pattern here so far."

Bucky opens his mouth to protest but there's something in the way Steve looks at him, with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his mouth quirked up that makes him close his mouth without a word. He might be blushing. Maybe he's being too forward. It's probably not appropriate to talk about a stranger's body this much.

Before he gets the chance to apologize, Steve answers, "And you're wrong, again. I like working out. Takes my mind off things, helps me clear my head when I need that. Besides I used to be small and sickly my whole childhood. Couldn't even play with other kids for too long without getting an asthma attack. So I'm kinda compensating for that," he jokes.

"Really?"

"Yeah. All pointy elbows and bony knees."

"Huh," Bucky says. "Bet you looked way cuter than me when I had my bowl cut. We all had our dark moments."

Steve laughs again and Bucky really enjoys the sound of that. He really enjoys Steve's company in general, which is weird considering they've just met. It usually takes him much more time to get comfortable around people. Maybe it's the fact that they'll go their separate ways as soon as the plane lands makes it all easier.

"I'm kinda disappointed, you know?" Steve starts after a moment. "I thought you'd guess at least once. Or at least would be more creative with those."

"Who says I'm done? It was all on purpose, I was just assessing, gathering intel. I'm a scientist, I don't know if I've mentioned that before," Bucky points a finger at Steve. "You've got to be methodical about stuff."

Raising his hands in surrender, Steve tries to keep a straight face. He fails miserably.

"I wanted to say that you secretly hate dogs or cats but that would be just too harsh," Bucky says. "I don't think you're a monster."

"I love dogs," Steve confirms. "Always wanted to get one but my flat's too small and I doubt that'd be good for a dog. I don't have anything against cats but I feel like they don't… like me that much."

Bucky chuckles. "I feel like there's a story there."

"Just— My friend Sam has a cat and she absolutely hates me. I can't leave my phone on the table cause she pushes it off, but she doesn't touch Sam's. Every time I'm there she follows me around and hisses at me for no reason. She peed in my shoe more than once," Steve says and tries to look hurt when Bucky starts laughing. "It's not funny! I haven't done anything to deserve this. I tried to bribe her with food, I tried to pet her but I only got scratched for my efforts. And she doesn't do that with anyone but me."

"So that's your dark secret? That your nemesis is a cat?" Bucky asks with a grin.

"It's… definitely true."

“Can’t say I’ve seen that one coming,” Bucky laughs.

Steve shrugs with one arm. “I’m full of surprises.”

Clearly, Bucky thinks, shaking his head at the other man.

Title: Wrap me up (in your love) Creator(s): niallhoranbitches Card number: 065 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745402/chapters/67911988 Square filled: B2 - Airport Rating: Teen and Up Archive warnings: None Major tags: Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, No powers AU Summary: Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue. Word count: 4591

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