KINNPORSCHE EP 11 MOODBOARD (no context memes) ((but do you really need context))

Kinnporsche:

Vegaspete:

Kimchay:

Tankhun:

Me:

The Essay Deal

Media Lewis

Character Adam Douglas

Couple Adam x Reader

Rating Flirty

Concept Agreement 

I sat on my bed surrounded by books, paperwork, and my laptop. I was struggling to even think straight at this point.

I Had my essay due next week.

On Friday.

At four PM.

It had to be a minimum of 5,000 words.

No double space.

No double-sided pages.

Must have four examples and evidence.

And it is 65% percent of my final grade.

if I fail this essay I fail the class.

And I won't be able to graduate.

And I haven't even started it yet.

I couldn't even think of putting words on the page right now, I knew I was going to fail, what am I gonna do?

I sighed and pushed my laptop away laying on my bed.

"Fuck" I sighed

"Having fun?" I heard so I glanced to the door still open where my roommate left it open when she went for her shower, Adam Douglas leaning on the door frame in his usual converses, skinny blue jeans, his red plaid shirt and grey hoodie smirking at me. He's in all my classes and top of all the classes, so of course he was a cocky little shit.

"Fuck off adam" I sighed

"Fine, you struggling with the essay?"

"No I'm trying to make cheese. Yes its the damn essay"

"I've already handed mine in"

"What!"

"Yeah, I asked Dr lucas for early submission he said sure put it in yesterday"

"I hate you"

"I know" he smiled "Come on let me read what you have" he says coming and sitting on my bed so I handed over my laptop he coughed a couple of times clearing his throat before stiffening his back "The" he reads "I see. you really are struggling"

"Ummm humm" I nodded

"fine" he sighed "I'm only ever going to offer this once y/n. I can help you out. if you want me to."

"In exchange for what? I'm broke adam so I can't pay you or buy you anything"

"Ohh I know everyone is broke around here"

"yeah because not everyone has a mummy and daddy rich enough to pay all their student loans off" I glared

"Think it over" he says handing me back my laptop "as much help as you want, for a price. He'll I'll write it for you for a price" he smirked heading to my door "Deal expires at midnight" he smirked heading down the corridor to his own room

"I don't need him. I can do this" I smiled grabbing my laptop and my books putting on my study music and typing like crazy hyperfocused and engaged in my topic for a good hour. "Okay 11.40 let's see how many words I'm at" I smiled "The effect of original classics on the development and form of modern life, an essay. 15 words fuck" I sighed "Damn it I need him" I threw my laptop on my bed shut the door and bolted down the corridor past the various other rooms getting to his little door as he only had a single again his mum and dad paid for him to have one and I banged on the door as loud as I could

"it's open," he says from within so I went in seeing his little single room decked out with everything a uni kid could want. Custom Build Pc, gaming chair, two mini fridges one for an energy drink with its branding down the side, and one for actual food, with one of those little air fry, rotisserie ovens on top, his double bed made with fresh fancy sheets that even smelt of fabric softener, lights around his room on the controller, actual bags and kits for his laundry and such. Honestly, you could live here very happily but that's what happens when your parents pay your tuition in full and are on the board of directors. he glanced at me from his chair new game control controller in hand smirking as he saw me in his doorway "yes?"

"I need your help"

"do you now" he smirked "I'm really busy you know"

"adam, please. I'll take the deal I'll pay okay" I pleaded to shut the door and coming over he smirked pausing his game and checking his watch

"Oohhh a minute to spare." he chuckled "You really need my help that badly?"

"I've written the title"

"Oh god." he laughs "I'll think about it"

"adam please" I begged

He glanced at me with a wicked smirk "Begging usually isn't this high up" he smirked

I sighed and knelt on his little rug to plead like a peasant girl to a king "Please adam" I begged

"Cute, Alright," he smiled "For a price."

"How much?" I sighed moving to sit on his bed

"What to write the whole thing for you?"

"yes please"

"six hundred quid"

"adam! that's extortionate!"

"Need me or not?"

"You know I do"

"It's not just writing it y/n I also have to make it not look like I did it. that's the hard part"

"I can't afford that."

"Well being your negotiations" he chuckled

"Well, I work at the campus coffee shop"

"I know, gross," he says

"I can get you free coffee?" I suggest

"Tempting. But I don't drink campus coffee it's gross. Why would I bother when Starbucks is literally around the corner"

"Becuase campus coffee is a pound"

"Yeah tastes like it," He says "Doesn't matter it's more expensive I just use the card"

"Do your parents ever bill you for that thing?"

"They Bill the account"

"The account?"

"yeah, their account they have in my name. I don't have access to it. they said they'll give me it when I graduate"

"Fucking rich kids" I sighed

"They made the smart choice to buy two properties when I was baby and the house prices were low. Now they're both in my name and both full to the brim with renters. I'm their landlord and they pay into my parent's account for me. When I graduate they give me the card for that account with twenty years worth of rent in it. I can live in one house and the other one funds my life" He explained

"That one house won't fund your lifestyle"

"They pay three thousand pounds a month rent. I think that's fine. when all I'll have to pay are bills in the other house"

"I hate you"

"I know. but I don't need coffee so try again" He smirked having himself an energy drink from his fridge

"You can share my Netflix?" I suggest

"already have Netflix, Disney, Amazon, Hulu and HBO" He smiled

"I can... buy you a beer?"

"I don't drink remember"

"Oh fuck yeah. cigarettes?"

"I don't smoke"

"What do you want then?" I sighed "You're a fucking rich kid with everything you could possibly need what do you want"

"hummmmm... what do I want?" he pondered "Anything I want?"

"within reason. and that I have to give."

"I will write your essay for you. If you let me... you know" he smirked

"Let you want?"

"If you let me hit that" he smirked

"Are you serious?" I asked genuinely trying to gage if he was serious or not

"yes I am" he smirked

"So, you'll do my essay, make sure I pass. If I let you have sex with me?"

"yep"

"Once or?"

"as much as I want. a friends-with-benefits type arrangement you get your work done I get sex"

"just sex?"

"Sex, cuddles and likely an occasional blow job"

"and you'll write my whole essay?"

"yep"

"Deal"

Sure! Why is Taz Ethersea validating why a pre-calamity campaign would be a bad idea?

Okay first off I do want to thank you all! I think I probably would have eventually made a post, because opinions are stored in the Tumblr blog but I don't think I would have thought through it beyond the simplest answer of "actual play D&D is uniquely unsuited for a narrative with a foregone conclusion" but I think it goes beyond that and getting these questions led me to think about it much more.

Also: this post will be full of spoilers for prior TAZ and Critical Role campaigns.

That simple answer is still the right one. I'll admit I have many biases - I don't like stories where the ending is total failure, vs. something bittersweet and mixed; I am very picky about my cataclysm/apocalypse narratives; and I like to avoid spoilers and be surprised by endings. But in particular, one of the greatest elements of D&D actual play is that the long shot is possible. You can roll that 5% chance of becoming conscious instead of dying, or 15% chance of divine intervention, or what have you in a desperate situation. You still might fail, but there's a chance.

Which is one of the other great elements of D&D actual play is that the long shot failure is also possible; the 5% chance of dying sooner than expected or fumbling what should be an easy hit (or an enemy succeeding when they shouldn't).

A big part of why I'm struggling with TAZ Ethersea right now isn't actually the forgone conclusion. A big part is the mechanics, which just don't come off as terribly suited for an audio-only medium (even with the shared map, we don't get the images drawn in sync with the podcast which is what you'd need to really follow along properly). But it doesn't help that I know that when the Storm comes, they at least in some capacity make it. A lot of what appeals to me in the Quiet Year is the map-making and description of a small community and the idea of worldbuilding as the end-goal rather than a starting point, but a significant part of the premise is that the community has a year, but does not realize it. They know they have to prepare for winter, but they don't know that winter will be marked by the Frost Giants. And I don't begrudge the McElroys for using this for worldbuilding, for a number of in-game and out-of-game reasons, but the fact that they do know they have a year and that we as listeners know that obviously some kind of undersea society is able to be built after that year due to the premise of the main portion of the campaign has taken out most of the tension.*

We know how the Age of Arcanum ends. We don't know details, but we know what happens. We also know the Calamity is generations long (Halas being both a few generations after Aeor's destruction and also pre-divergence), and ends in the Divergence, and afterwards the world slowly rebuilds.

Any campaign therefore has a couple of options. Either it would have to be long before the Calamity to allow for some degree of freedom of choice in what the players are doing (which is generally not the vibe I'm getting from people interested in a pre-Calamity campaign), and also...I don't really get what that accomplishes that a new relatively unexplored location wouldn't. The other would be that it's either a campaign that never gets to any kind of significant catastrophe aversion goal (which...while I do not believe actual play casts are in any way obligated to cater to the fandom other than general sensitivity towards other people, stopping some kind of large-scale terrible event and/or big bad is a pretty central concept of the genre even when other elements of it are played with), or one that we know fails in that goal (or at least...only succeeds in saving about a third of all people) before it starts.

It's true that usually, we as viewers go into a D&D story expecting some measure of success (I could write a whole separate essay on why TPKs aren't great viewing for a long-running campaign) but CR in particular has made it clear that there is still a capacity for some amount of failure, or mixed success; there is still perma-death, or victory at great cost, or initial failure that has consequences that cannot be avoided even by later success. Something all actual play DM/GMs (and in many cases, regular old home game DM/GMs) have to do is walk that nearly invisible line where truly, success and failure are both options but total all-consuming failure is extremely difficult to achieve while still not making things seem too easy or unearned. A pre-calamity story puts that already monumental balancing act on Extremely Hard Mode because a large amount of failure as well as a small amount of success is inherently built in.

It also makes it much harder for stories like the one we had in C2 about Aeor, or for that matter, C1 about Vecna, to resonate in the same way, since both used the mystery of the pre-Calamity/Calamity eras to tell those stories. I love dramatic irony but there's a limit; there should be some mystery for the audience and players, not just the characters. If a creator puts a huge mysterious cataclysm in the past, there's a reason for that! Ethersea could have just been "it's an underwater society because it's fantasy" and that would have been perfectly fine, but it's not! That's a creative choice! The mystery of the Calamity is almost certainly by design!

In the end the thing that gets me about TAZ Ethersea is that I usually love the worldbuilding/character concept episodes of D&D shows that have them, and the Q&A/talkback episodes...but I'm learning that I want people to talk about those finished products in a big-picture way. I may be guessing here but I think people want pre-Calamity lore, but they would not actually enjoy a full, 100+ episode campaign of pre-Calamity happenings that is both hamstrung by forgone conclusions and may hamstring other stories that are to take place in the future. I think some comics, or a novel, or a small scope EXU mini-series, or like...a really long tweet thread from Matt about some pre-Calamity lore would actual satisfy that curiosity more effectively while also allowing them to preserve the important mysteries. Or, building from previous campaigns, having C3 exist a few decades after C2, where the consequences of the many archaeological expeditions and the return of the Aeormatons are becoming widespread, would similarly give us the ancient lore while still providing the open, unpredictable world actual play is uniquely suited for.

*just to make it clear: I'm complaining about the Ethersea setup epidosdes because I love complaining about things but if I actually found it wholly unenjoyable I would stop listening and skip ahead, completionism be damned. There are plenty of bright spots, mostly when they stop following the rules of the game and introduce specific character beats, and I am excited by the consequences, it's just...almost 5 hours long and still going.

6 essential chrome extensions for students !

hello everyone! it's mika from mekachyu studies and welcome to my first blog post! i’m a high school senior who is dual-enrolled in my local community college to get my general ed courses done and start my pre-requisites for my computer science major (and my psychology minor).

i've seen a lot of YouTube videos similar to this but I just want to give my own two cents about some of my favorite chrome extensions that help me study!

grammarly

everyone knows grammarly, but it's definitely an essential. as everyone probably already knows, grammarly makes your writing simple and corrects all your spelling and grammar mistakes so you don't have to go back and proofread that essay you wrote at 2 am on 4 cups of coffee and 5 hours of sleep or second guess that email you are sending your professor about why you need an extension for a project because you had things to deal with even though you had a whole week to work on the project. jokes aside, grammarly definitely has helped me in the past, from drafting speeches for my public speaking class to writing a mini story for my composition classes. it's free too, there is no reason not to use it !

speechify

i'll be honest, i didn't think this would help me at all. i first found speechify through a YouTube ad and thought to myself, "why not try it?" I didn't use it for about a week, but I had to read 3 chapters of philosophy and let me tell you, it was so much easier to get through it than if I just read it myself. speechify uses different AI powered voices  to read out documents, emails, or other texts. you can adjust the speed depending on how fast or slow you want to listen. I tend to listen on around 250 words per minute using a the female voice named Salli! Sometimes it just gets too hard to keep my eyes open late at night, so sometimes I just listen to my readings as if it's a podcast.

alphatext

do you ever feel like the text is too small for you to read? especially late at night, or if you're like me, don't feel like wearing your glasses during late night study sessions? well alphatext is the perfect chrome extension for you! this extension allows you to change the color, background, font, and size of the text on a website to suit your needs. Those times when you're staying up late to catch up on studies and you need to read a really bright article? I no longer have those, because I finally have dark mode on those websites. It's honestly so helpful because being able to read the article is half the struggle in itself.

mybib

don't get me wrong, citation machine has saved my life when I'm doing my citation for a research paper or a creative writing assignment for my english classes, but  mybib has got me covered without having to switch to a different tab. It cites both websites and PDFs, and the coolest feature about it is that it tells you whether that source is credible or not!

todoist

todoist is your virtual to-do list !  I like the fact you can categorize your tasks into different subjects or projects and note the day you want to do it by. One thing I like doing is splitting up my  big tasks like a group project or reviewing for finals into smaller parts. The labels are really helpful for this. It's a pretty simple extension, but I think it's pretty useful !

dualless

"study smart, not hard" as they say. i'm actually pretty lazy doing basic things like split screening my laptop tabs to take notes, but thankfully there's a chrome extension for that. dualless provides you with a couple different ratios to split screen your various chrome tabs ! I use the 5:5 and 6:4 ratio the most for taking my notes! I usually have my PDF on the left side and google docs on the right side. My favorite feature though is the bookmark feature, where you can make bookmarks by right clicking the squares for any of the ratios and it will bookmark the site you are on ! Then, whenever you click on the extension, you can click the bookmark and it will open up that site. (And you can color code the bookmarks too!)

honorable mentions

forest : forest is such a great productivity app for phones and the fact there is a chrome extension is even cooler. I prefer using the blocklist function, as i tend to switch between tabs and research things for other subjects and it becomes problematic when I can't reach those sites because of forest. however, if you aren't like me, and you absolutely have to only stay in certain apps or websites, forest chrome extension also has an allowlist function. I definitely would recommend to those who tend to get distracted easily like I  am!

weava : i haven't used weava for long, but I can say it's extremely helpful for whenever I'm doing research for a paper. I can highlight important passages I need for the required in-text citations for my assignments, and it saves the website so I can find it easily when I write my bibliographies (or mybib writes my bibliographies...)

sins of my youth. 007

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: New Year and school is back in session after winter break. Billy starts the grovelling process and observes some new things about Evie. TW: PICA-it's worse. Vomiting. Animal death mention. Student/Teacher relationship in the background. School bullies. Taglist open!!! ​​

Chapter 7: One Bad Kiss Constellation

   The first day back to school was uglier than Evie pictured. Fall of snow didn't get them out of classes.

   Her stomach was already in knots, but that could have been the shiny things she’d eaten the night before.

   Felt like a game. What would pass. What would tie her stomach up. These little trinkets she actually dug for, cleaned with bleach, and stacked on that empty shelf. Organized each item. Admired her display of will and control. Mostly keys and buttons. Couple nuts from a toolbox in their garage.

   So far, everything came out. So far. Evie wondered what her insides would look like and tried to slow. Tried despite all the noise.

   Calculus was first. Thankfully, she shared it with Heather who was all smiles. Chattering about her surprise mini trip with her parents. 

   They had it with Tommy and Carol too. All the fucking grins and looks Evie got burned. Tommy peering then shifting to Carol’s ear so she could giggle.

   Evie’s pencil snapped within her fist so Heather glanced aside to see the pieces roll away.

   “Okay, muscles.” She chuckled, passing a freshly sharpened one over.

   “Thanks.”

   “So, what’d you do for New Years?” All the scratching of lead on paper was driving Evie insane. Grating like an out of tune orchestra of vibrating strings.

   “Just some lame party, the usual.” Evie was rubbing the back of her neck. Eyes glued to the page.

   Carol giggled again. Fingernails sunk into the skin of Evie's hairline.

   “Don’t know what her problem is.” Heather remarked to herself.

   Evie shook her head. Lips pressing with no sound. Trying to focus on the problems along the page and not the ones fizzling in her life. Her desk was pressed into the far right wall next to all the campy posters teachers loved to decorate their rooms in.

   About how there's always a silver lining and chase the morning.

   Evie rolled her eyes at the thought. Caught sight of a sleek thumbtack there sticking out. Shiny and chrome. Lungs pulsed and she wondered about the weight on her tongue.

   Strange how her mouth watered for it.

   Two fingers subtly snatched it from the wall when the bell rang.

   Second period was usually what she was excited about. English with Bowers and the sly smiles they beamed at each other across the room. Carol always looked between them. Jealous she wasn’t the hot teacher’s pet. She noticed a great deal there.

   Evie shared the class with Steve also. And Billy who sat in the next row over just behind her. He stared at Evie, trying to read every twitch and shift of her body. A note hit her desk from Steve.

   Brown eyes peered up as if to ask who it was being passed to, but he cocked his chin at her.

   Fredrick sat quietly at his desk as they worked separately today. He didn’t see her unfold it.

   What’s up with Hargrove? Looks like he’s trying to vaporize you with his laser eyes.

   Evie hitched to stop herself from laughing at a picture with a stick figure and a mullet. Lasers blasting out of the eyes. She added some comically large muscles. Cleared her throat and wrote back.

   He’s a creep.

   Steve quirked a darling smile at her.

   Billy saw a flash of stark, bloody red. Harrington made her grin without force.

   “Okay, class, let’s see who read the material. Pass your papers up.” Fredrick stood to collect. “I’ll be reading these tonight and- Ah, Mr. Hargrove. Thank you for the scribbling of your Camaro. I hope the essay question is as detailed.”

   “Been thinking about upgrading my girl, sir. Say, what do you drive?” Billy tapped his pencil, lazy as can be. “Cool guy, I bet.”

   “Just a Plymouth. We muscle cars have to stick together.” Fredrick was pulling stacks of papers from the front. Billy didn’t drop it.

   “That orange one? Yeah. I’ve seen it around.” Blue eyes drew to Evie at that. She felt a chill and peered back with a stony expression. “Bet the girlies all line up.”

   A few classmates chuckled for their glorious king.

   “It gets me from point A to B. That’s all I ask for.” Bowers only laughed.

   "I'm sure it does." Billy mused coolly, fingers twisting his ring which caught the light.

   The bell blared.

   “Alright, class. We’re starting a new unit tomorrow. I hope you all have your Shakespeare hats ready.”

   A collective groan sounded.

   Evie rushed out to Yearbook with Jonathan, Nancy, and Heather. Only class she had where Seniors and Juniors mixed. Besides lunch if that counted. Got lost in dark rooms so the world couldn’t see her hands shaking.

   "Here." Jonathan caught her trying to clip some photos up, fumbling with a stack.

   "Thanks," Evie sighed, "too many pages for our losing sports teams, right?"

   He chuckled at that.

   "My thoughts exactly."

   Jonathan went to help Nancy order some drafted pages when Heather crossed over. Eyes on Evie working.

   "Something the matter?"

   "Bourbon's not doing well. I expected it, but...he's just been with me through all of it. You know?" A frown etched. She didn't want to cry. Heather paused to hug Evie from behind.

   "He's our little prince still. I'm sorry."

   Her friend shifted out, pressed a smile and went back to work in silence. Groaned because Billy was in half these basketball photos. Alight and intense.

   “Hey, I’m going to the library for lunch.” Evie spoke after that bell rang. “I’ll scarf my sandwich on the way.” 

   Heather observed her again. Watched how Evie avoided her eyes.

   “Was...something else going on? I feel like I-”

   “No, just missing the break.” Evie flashed her teeth to make it convincing. 

   She did manage to get half the sandwich down and tossed the rest out. Patted cold water on her cheeks once she was alone in the bathroom as everyone went to lunch. The hallway got quieter and Evie looked at her flushed face. Shuddered and reached for the pin in her pocket.  Small. Deft. Dainty.

   Stark point. Catching the light. 

   She washed it with soap. Opened her mouth to stick her tongue out. Cradled it there. Chrome and out of place against pink flesh. Lips closed. The point pressed down into her tongue. Evie winced. Tried to swallow and choked it back into her hand. Saliva dripping.

   A spot of red welled. Loud and obscene and horrible. Tasting metal. Shame. Tears pooled.

   So she pushed it back in like she’d done with the key to drown the noise out. Evie Fenny wasn’t a fucking quitter.

   Swallow. Swallow. Swallow.

   It scratched going down. Working around clenching muscles. Pangs fluttered. Fingers grasped the sink to bite a groan back.

   Evie thought she heard the little plink of it hitting her stomach. Gasped to breathe. There wasn’t shame anymore, only pride. She powered through it. Had utter control.

   Eyes locked with the mirror. Calm. Collected. Not in this body. Rust turned to sweet strawberries and rose petals.

   Imagine stabbing something several times until it was beautiful.

   Exhale.

** ** ** 

   Carol and her gaggle still kept the laughter up in the cafeteria. She sat upon the table with Tommy next to her. Animated stories kept them hanging upon dripping syllables. Heather couldn’t stand it anymore. Pushed up to cross right over.

   “What’s your problem today?” She cocked her hip.

   “Oooh.” Carol clicked her glittery nails on the table. “So touchy, sweet pea.”

   “What’s your problem with Evie, she didn’t do anything to you?”

   “Other than her being a tart for Bowers. Nothing to me. In fact, she provides us with hours of entertainment. Had a hot date with the Keg King.” Carol nodded toward Billy across the way, sitting alone and clicking his lighter. Annoyed, he got up and went to sneak his usual lunch smoke.

   “What? What are you talking about?”

   “Uh, isn’t Fenny your BFF?” Tina chimed in. “Shouldn’t you know?”

   “Aw, that’s so cute, she didn’t tell you.” Tommy added with his crooked smile. “Must be so embarrassed. Poor girl.”

   “You have five seconds-”

   “I’m gonna tell you.” Carol decided. Finger curling to bring Heather in. “Only because it’s just too good.”

** **  **

   Billy got one puff in before Princess Heather Holloway was smacking the cigarette from his fingers. Snarling and bright red to match the cute bow in her hair.

   “Hey!” 

   “Hey yourself, what the fuck?” She pushed Billy clear into the brick wall. Chilled him more than the breeze. A new flutter of snow began to fall with no peace in sight. Her face was flushed cherry with anger. “I know about your little Skirt Safari bullshit! You tricked Evie! You hurt my friend...you’re an asshole.”

   Billy just sagged at her. Reached to pluck up his cigarette and got it slapped again. Heather crushed it with her expensive shoe for good measure.

   “You had no right to do something so disgusting! Carol and Tommy filled me in.”

   His brow lifted.

   “...Evie didn’t tell you?”

   “The last thing Evie wants is for people to see her in pain, so I know you hurt her bad.” Her arms crossed. “Well?” A cold breath puffed.

   “It wasn’t supposed to-”

   “You mean, she wasn’t supposed to find out about the bet. You’re so selfish. You’re a selfish little prick. Stay the hell away from my friend.”

   She turned and a hand snatched her wrist.

   “Heath-”

   “What?” She shrugged with some extra ire. Eyes flickering like flames. “I think you’ve done enough.”

   Billy let her go, looked elsewhere. No syllables to make her stop fuming. Heather huffed at him and marched back inside to find Evie at her locker. Shoulders dropped.

   “Hey…” Heather’s slow approach still gave Evie a fright. Huge doe eyes looking far too somber.

   A sigh.

   “Who told you?”

   “Carol and those jerks.” Heather pressed her lips. “Just scared Hargrove shitless, I think. I’m sorry, I wish you told me. You said you'd tell me things.”

   “This thing... It doesn’t matter. He tricked me, whatever.” Evie’s arms went out then dropped. She faced her locker. Toyed with the handle and pressed her book closer. “It was all stupid. For a moment, I thought he… I thought a boy might-”

   “He’s a little prick.” Heather turned her friend around.

   “We had fun. We danced. I kissed him first. Did Carol tell you that part?” Evie sucked in some air.

   "Oh?"

   “Yeah, I kissed him and I was going to screw him too. I was gonna go to a motel with Billy Hargrove for New Years and, you know, I...I wanted to. I really wanted him... But, it doesn’t matter. They can talk about it all they like.” She moved to go, slamming her locker shut. “I don’t care. It won’t bother me. It's stupid. All of it.”

   “Evie, don’t shut down, please.”

   “I’m fine.” Sneakers skidded when Heather stepped in front of her. "Boys like Billy Hargrove don't go for girls like me. He doesn't want me. That's not news."

   Evie remembered all the hot bodies jumping around. The crowds and fireworks blasting along with a musical beat. Moments where she'd felt incandescently delighted next to Billy and the lingering of their starry eyes. Like they'd been meant to find each other all this time.

   "Getting mad about this is the same as being upset about the pattern of stars. It's pointless." Evie swallowed a thicker lump down.

   No, that's what ached. Billy made her believe they could be rewritten. Made her want to defy the stars.

   “Let’s hang out this weekend. A no boys party for both of us.” Heather smiled, taking Evie's hand. “He’s not even a boy, Eve, he’s a little prick. Let’s just have some fun. Friday? Sleepover. You pick the first movie.”

   “I’m fine, Heath,” the words sounded funny now, “but okay. Sleepover.”

   “Good.” A brighter smile crossed so Evie matched it. She let Heather hug her and managed to make it through classes all the way to her free period avoiding Billy’s eyes on her skull. Sneaking out was an art form she’d perfected. Quick steps to her locker and toward the door. Stopping only to see into the theater when stage lights turned rose red.

   Evie peeked in. Beamed.

   “Mr. B.” She shuffled inside after checking the hallway. "Fredrick."

   “I’m alone, Evie, come sit with me.” He patted the table next to the lightboard he was working on. The glow changed to a softer pink. Made it all less menacing. Bathed in blush, she crossed the illumination and scooted up onto the cool surface. Skirt shifting over black tights. “Bad day?”

   “Bad start to the year.”

   "Classmates? I can always fail them for you." He'd joked.

   She smiled, head shaking so he continued.

   “They’re intimidated by you, Evie, because you’re too ahead and mature for them. Soon, you'll be out in the world and they'll be left stumbling.” He peeked up behind a pair of glasses. This was old times. Encouragement. Nurturing. “Much like the director of the winter show who asked me to fix this damn thing last minute.”

   She giggled then, touching her lips. 

   “You look pretty in this light. You should wear pink more often, instead of red.” He remarked and she crossed her ankles. Hands gripping the edge.

   “Red makes me look and feel older.” Evie asserted herself.

   “What about that wet gloss you used to wear in class?” His finger brushed her knee before he was picking up a screwdriver. 

   “Thought you didn’t like to kiss me with gloss on, you said it was too sticky.”

   “I appreciate it more now that I’ve lost it. Just like you, Evie. You were there for me. It's something special to have a person. Don't you think?” He winked. Fredrick Bowers made her laugh and smile. Listened to her and gave back. Most days.

   All she longed for was to impress him. Please him. Be enough for someone.

   "It's not fair that I cannot kiss you here." He uttered. "Now. I'd like to."

   "Just kiss me?" Evie flicked some curls, drew her fingers across her collar so he fixated there.

   Played this version of herself that came out around him. This woman in red with cool words. Always game. She bit her lip and he paused to see her again. A smile crossed before they were interrupted.

   Evie looked up as the door opened and Carol stood there. A glare already on her pouty face. Fredrick scooted a good few inches from Evie. Quickly.

   “Sorry, I just had some questions about the reading. Mr. B.” Carol flashed a smile.

   "Of course, Carol. My door is always open. Evie, thank you for the inquires. I'll be getting back with you. Soon."

   Evie perked and got up. 

   “I'll hold you to that... We just finished. Thanks, Mr. B. For all the help.” She seemed all too chipper at Carol going green with envy. The redhead knocked into her shoulder passing, but Evie gripped her bag and went out. Frowned at the snow piling because she’d ridden her bike in. 

   Still, Evie was stubborn, so she got on and pedaled down the street. Sleet making it more difficult when a fucking Camaro revved down the way behind her. Billy honked once and got ignored. Pulled up in front of her and skidded over which sent Evie into a pile of frosty, dead leaves. Tumbling.

   “Hell.” She just laid there until Billy Hargrove was in the line of sight. Craning to see her and utterly stunning against the opal skies. “What’s it going to take for you to leave me alone, huh? Three hundred bucks?” She untwisted from her bike and Billy yanked her up, brushing snow aside until he got smacked off with two heated expressions penetrating.

   “You’re screwing Bowers, aren’t you?” He’d hissed it.

   Oof.

   “You’re delusional.” Evie charged past him. Legs aching as she pushed her bike.

   “Max saw you in his car. He’s always looking at you. Is that where you go when you sneak out your window three times a week?”

   “No!” Evie swiveled. Breath ghosting.

   “But, you’re still fucking him.” Billy slid in front, hands on the bike handles to stop her again. There was a struggle. Her cheeks puffing as she feebly tried to push him back. Teeth clenched.

   “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Will you just move?” Her entire face scrunched together. All daggers. Slowing, Evie spelled it out for him. Drew closer. “And no one will ever believe you.”

   “You think I’m trying to make your life worse, Angel? I just want you to admit it.”

   "Admit, what? You have major issues? Fine! Easy! Now move!" She barely got a few inches forward with his muscles buldging. Two immovable objects.

   "Open those pretty lips and say it. You're fucking our teacher. I wanna hear it from that mouth." Billy paused, chest shuddering. "You went to him after what I did. I should have stayed with you."

   “I don’t owe you any of this. You're obsessed!” She shoved into him. No budging, the boy was made of steel.

   “He’s a fucking pedophile. We had those in California too, chica. Maybe they don’t like the term round these parts. You think he's making you feel good, but he's setting you on fire to warm himself. That fuse is creeping, babe.” Billy pushed back until she was sliding toward his car. Slush wetting their shoes.

   "You're unbelievable!" 

   “I’m not looking to tell anyone, got that?" Billy caught her gaze in the teetering. Held it. "I’m just saying you don’t have to do it. Anyone ever tell you that you don't have to do something, Evangeline?"

   Evie stopped pushing to stare with bigger eyes as he continued. Expression crestfallen because something resonated.

   "Being a good girl has a cost, you do everything people tell you to do until your organs start spilling.”

   “I'm not the only one with a front. Fuck you!”

   A beat.

   “You almost did that night.” Billy cocked his head. "I would have made you moan so pretty. I wanted to." Evie’s mouth dropped before she shoved him into the snow. Bike falling away. He looked thrilled. About to pitch a fucking denim tent. “There you are. I would have fucked you so hard and so good, babe. Bet you even taste like heaven and stardust. Yeah? Fucking hit me.”

   “Hit you?” Evie stilled over him. “You’re just trying to make yourself feel better. Fuck off, Billy.” She yanked at her bike again. He puffed there, chest sinking before he shot back up. Newfound vigor.

   Growled.

   “I’m sorry.”

   Even the snow stilled with him. She swerved and saw him crack.

   “Evie, I’m fucking sorry, okay? I’m shit at this and I‘m sorry. I’m sorry I took you to that stupid dance and screwed you over. I'm sorry you got hurt. I am sorry, got it!”

   “You’re sorry that you got caught.” She pointed.

   “I’m not leaving you alone.”

   “Listen, Billy,” Evie spun and dropped her bike, “I don’t need anything from you. Nothing. Okay? Just let it go, I really don’t know why you can’t. Be sorry somewhere else. The stars are where they are. Life goes on.”

   “Fuck the stars! They're too far away to stop us. I kissed you after midnight. I gave the fucking money away. I wanted out of it and I fucked up. I did. I'd change that, but I wouldn't change the night with you. Hear me? I didn't lie about that much." He strained to catch those brown eyes.

   She opened her mouth and closed it quicker. Almost softened.

   "I didn't fake that and I was shitty to take you to that place. That fucker Tannen used me to get back at you and I’m fucking sorry about it.” Billy seemed to rage the thoughts out. “You liked it too. The kiss. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

   "If you call that a kiss." Sarcasm seeped out.

   "Yeah, I recall us sharing a couple." Billy laughed. Dry and disbelieving. "I was drunk, but I remember every damn second of how you felt."

   “You’re not fooling me again.” Evie crushed in on herself, pressed onward. Skidding to go away from Billy Hargrove. What the hell could he possibly want out of this?

   “I’ll leave you alone,” Billy sprang forward and grabbed her back wheel, “if you kiss me again and tell me it’s nothing. Just one more. Redo it. Yeah? To hell with the stars, we'll change them.”

   She looked in awe at him. Shoulders dropped.

   "It wasn't even that good of a kiss."

   "Then, what do you have to lose over another bad one?" Billy's head tilted up. Wild as can be. Evie matched it. Both of their curls moving up against the sweep of cold winds. Hungry looks about them. Billy undid her with a damning utter. "Prove me wrong, Angel."

   He fucking triple dog dared her.

   Evie practically kicked her bike aside, stomped toward him, and grabbed his face to smash their lips together. Billy pounced back with a barely there sound. Shoved Evie into the side of his car.

   Another vehicle honked and went around them. Probably too shocked to do much else with teenagers unable to control their hormones in the middle of the road.

   Moaning like he was in a porno, Billy made this one count. Hands palmed at her ass, bringing Evie up a few inches. Tongue down her throat near ready to prick himself on the pin she'd swallowed.

   She hitched as he pulled her hair to see lush hooded eyes again. But, briefly.

   "Yeah?" He twisted those curls around, both of them moaned. Challenge dancing. You like that, Angel? Evie's fingers were clutching at his jacket. A nod followed. She let him trail his tongue against her lips and opened her mouth for it again. Tasted spearmint.

   Drunken bodies kept moving and smacking back into his car. Billy even tried to pull her shirt up out of her skirt to touch the flesh underneath. Evie jolted out from him, having not been ravished like that by a boy so unafraid to touch her.

   And she shuddered apart. Kept her eyes closed so Billy did too.

   It was the only way to prolong this. A softer kiss where their noses brushed after. Foreheads pressing together. Ardent and lovely. Total silence was a thrill. Billy nuzzled his nose into her own again, pulling her body into his. Fingers crept barely under her shirt. Caressed the tender skin. Lungs and hearts needy beyond repair.

   Constellations twisting together until a single question dawned. Can I keep you?

   Evie quaked for air and saw him. Lashes long and too beautiful. Freckles. Snow falling like confetti. An ache flooded back. The pin pricks in her tongue jabbed. Arms pushed up at him. Felt the thumping in his chest.

   Holding his jaw steady, lipstick smeared to damn them both.

   “Do you always kiss the same way a thirsty dog laps at water?” She shoved him backwards. A spit trail left their mouths. Red glistened on Billy’s lips and chin. A sleazy grin cracked, tongue wiggling out to taste her still on him. Neither could breathe right.

   “Haven’t had complaints.” He gasped for air. “Are you judging my technique?”

   “Yeah, it sucks.” Evie puffed with more force. “And I felt nothing. Got it? Nothing. Leave me alone now.”

   “You’re a shitty liar.” He watched her swerve.

   “And you’re a shitty person!” She wiped her mouth. Billy stopped dead, dropped everything he was feeling to let that pierce him. “I felt nothing! Leave me alone.”

   “No.” Billy decided as she plucked her bike up.

   “No?"

   "You heard me." A child. "No. Nope. Nada."

   "But, you just said-”

   “I fucking lied and now you know how it’s done.” He went around his car. “Maybe I’m a shitty person, but at least I don’t hate myself enough to lie and screw-”

   “Spare me!” Evie screamed over him. Chilling. She got onto her bike and went down a dirt path so Billy couldn’t follow her. 

   “Fuck.” Billy slammed his car door getting back in. Revved up again, hitting the wheel. “Fuck!”

   He’d made it worse.

** ** **

   Billy made an attempt to leave Evie Fenny alone. Sorta. Didn’t even stare at her in school. Didn’t bring up Bowers. Pretended he didn’t hear her sneaking out to wherever. 

   He even tried screwing other girls. Drinking and partying to forget.

   Another problem came with that.

   He couldn’t keep his shit up. Tried everything. Got into bed with two girls and stayed soft. Pretended he was just too smashed. 

   All he saw was Evie Fenny looking at him with her huge, sad eyes. It made him furious and he tried to hate her. Tried to jerk himself off and only thought of her lipstick smearing his skin. Her amber perfume drowning his senses. Her body flush against his.

   Then, he was coming.

   He felt like shit about all of it and that turned to rage. No hate came, it just burnt.

   Meanwhile, Evie was lining pins and screws up for her collection. She wrote down every little thing she ate and what came out.

   It was supposed to all come out eventually and she'd be there to control it.

   She thought of the amethyst gemstone sparkling inside her and wondered how such a thing could make her feel so happy and alive.

   Even when her stomach began to ache with little pricks through the day. Even when her appetite was often ruined. Even with she tried again at times to stop it for good. The cravings undid her.

   She smiled through the pain just like she was taught. A woman's disposition. 

   I am fine. This is fine.

   Something collided distantly. Two arrows through the same heart. Spitting blood everywhere.

   One night, Evie wasn’t sneaking out.

   Billy still heard her scratching around the side of the house. Couldn’t help peeking to see her dragging a shovel. Holding a painted square under one arm. She set a decorated shoe box aside and started digging a hole just at the back corner of her house. Struggling to break ice and snow. Head bowed so wet curls covered her chilled face.

   He opened his window.

   “Hey.”

   “Go away.” She sniffled. Crying. 

   Billy hadn’t heard or seen her cry. Not even over him and what he did. Not for anything. The sound jarred him, he thought she might have been holding in laughter.

   Blue eyes drew to the box again and he realized it. Bourbon. The strange cat hadn’t been spying on him lately.

   “Please,” she turned her neck to barely peer at him through red rimmed eyes, “just go away.” Evie wiped her nose and let a fresh sprinkling of snow melt on her cheeks. She still looked pretty there, utterly fatigued. Wispy, wet curls framing her splotchy expression. 

   "You took good care of him." Was all he said. Evie turned back. Shoulders lifting.

   Billy did the only thing he could do for once.

   He left Evie alone. 

   Listened to her hum and dig to bury the beloved cat. Billy didn’t see Evie stuff a handful of soil into her pocket and go back inside to her empty house because her mother was always out with friends or working. She went to the phone in her bedroom. Luckily, Evie got her own line two Christmases ago. She dialed.

   “Hello?” Her prince.

   “Can I come over?” Evie sniffled. “Bourbon died.”

   “Who?”

   “My cat.” Dark eyes narrowed before she started to pick at some peeling wallpaper. “You remember?” She talked about the little ball of fuzz all the time.

   “Oh, that’s unfortunate, Evie.” Fredrick sighed for her. “I’m not sure after what happened last weekend. I still think you need time.”

   She spazzed out as the teenagers say.

   “I just...wasn’t comfortable doing that. The ropes freaked me out, I can’t explain it.” She shook her head. "I can try again, can I come over?"

   "So, now I'm just pushing you into it? Don't make me the bad guy, Evie, I won't be that. I'm here for you, but I want to go at your pace. You know that."

   "No, no, you're not pushing," came the protest, "I can do it. I'll try. I just wanna see you. I need to be touched." That sentiment got her welling again.

   “Evie, it’s like you don’t trust me to look after you.” He replied in a clinical sort of way. “I’m risking everything to be with you."

   "I know."

   He said it often.

   "You couldn't stop crying," he sniffled like he might weep over it, "you make me feel so helpless at times. Do you realize that?"

   "I"m sorry..." Evie crushed into the phone as he made it about him. His needs. His inability to keep her happy. That was her fault.

   "Too often, I think your head is just up in the clouds. These nightmares you have and the way you press into the wall when you sleep. Like you don't want me to touch you. And last week, dear, you just...wouldn't stop crying."

   "I promise I won't cry anymore." She's promised her mother that as well in silence. "I swear. I'll stop."

   "This fixation on your little poems. We used to have adult conversations about the future. It's like a part of you is locked away. You don't want me to touch it. What’s the matter with you?”

   “Songs.” Evie replied flatter.

   “What?”

   “They’re songs, not poems.”

   “I just mean, you should be more practical."

   "I don't know what's wrong with me." Evie decided at last. Clutching the phone cord in her shaken fist. Haunted. "I can't stop."

   She didn't know if she wanted to. This cycle that was eating her.

   "I got back into this because I wanted you. I see a future with us. Do you want me just as bad? Think on it. I'll give you the time. When you're ready, I'm here.” Bowers advised. He wanted her to want him so bad. “We’ll talk another day. Next weekend maybe.”

   "Fredrick, please-"

   The line cut.

   She'd been too needy, he like that on his terms. Liked when she crawled and when she needed him so bad. When she gave into everything he desired without a fuss. Fredrick wanted Evie, but he wanted a specific version of Evie. The bouncy girls on television game for anything, who had every answer. Fizzling emotions unsettled him. They were childish. But, he wanted her lips to be glossy and pink. Wanted her to be an adult woman in a spring breaking teen's body.

   You'd think he was still married to his uptight wife and fucking the damn babysitter.

   Evie set the phone down. Stuffed a handful of dirt into her lips. Smothered herself with it. Gritty, it stuck to her teeth like an Oreo cookie. Tiny stones shifted as she tried to swallow too much at once. She got another handful in before her gag reflex choked her. Feet scrambled to puke brown and bile into the toilet. 

   The Lego she ate earlier came up too. Found it helping Claudia and Dustin clear their basement. Shiny and blue. 

   Her stomach curdled. A few tears squeezed before she was scooping that up. Slippery with acidic bile. Pushing it back into her mouth. With her throat raw, it hurt worse the second time but it went down.

   Control. She was in total control. That’s what she told herself. Curled up next to the toilet. Scalp heating while her lips hung slack.

   “Nothing is the matter with me.” Evie told herself because stopping meant that thudding ache in her chest would glow all neon and rose red.

** ** **

   Billy wasn’t going to leave Evie alone. He decided that after a wet dream one morning. These things were not to be taken lightly by teenage boys. 

   I’m sorry. It didn't cut it. Actions, that’s what Susan advised, not that he’d admit prying advice from his chirpy stepmother. Vague as can be, Billy hung out in the kitchen doorway dropping rough hints.

   Maxine was more blunt when Susan asked her later.

   “Oh, yeah, he’s totally crushing on Evie and he messed it all up.” She said between the lazy crunching of salty chips.

   “That’s what I thought.” Susan sighed. An hour of Billy barking and hiding around the doorway told Susan that much. She was young once.

   “But, he did something. She’s mad at him.”

   “Well, Neil works late tomorrow, I asked Billy if he’d take me to Mona’s salon. She wanted me to go out with her friends. A dessert and wine thing she likes to host.”

   “Did you tell Neil?” Max was fixing a wheel on her skateboard and snacking. Poor thing wasn't getting use with all the snow fall. Susan only smiled.

   “Would you like to go get your hair done?”

   “Ick.” Max cringed at the thought of those huge rollers and hairspray. 

   “Max.” Susan replied carefully. “Evie works tomorrow, doesn’t she? Saturday.”

   She got the idea with her eyes lighting up.

   “Oh!” Max blew air out her lips. “Just this once, then.”

   “That’s my girl.” Susan figured if Billy was convinced it was all her idea, the day would go smoother.

** ** **

   Something else Billy Hargrove learned about Mona was her hair changed with the seasons. Locks big and bold but now a strawberry blonde. A head start for spring despite it still being January.

   Evie peered up at reception and noticeably, her face fell.

   Susan figured whatever happened had to be bad. She’d never seen such a reaction from a teenage girl to her drop dead gorgeous stepson. Hell, Billy Hargrove could bat his lashes and have eggs dropping in every uterus within a fifty mile radius.

   Might have been why Neil preferred to lock him in his room like he was the dirty tomcat about to impregnate all the neighborhood strays. Although, Neil had a list of reasons for how he treated Billy. None of them valid.

   Mona went right for Max. Squished her cheeks in smelling of lavender hand cream. 

   “I’m so glad y’all are here! Maxie, I promise I won’t shock you. Just a wash and freshen. Make your hair nice and bouncy. It’ll shine. I always say: the higher the hair, the closer to God.” Mona took Susan’s hand. “C’mon over here. My new girl, Shelby, will get you started too. Little pampering does everyone good.”

   “Hey.” Evie piped up, twirling a pen around. She’d eaten the cap an hour ago. Not much for chewing. Always up to the task of swallowing whole because she was a big girl.

   Big girls sucked it up and swallowed. 

   Billy thought to go back to his car. Swayed on his feet there looking around at all the plants.

   Actions.

   Actions. 

   They speak louder than words. Billy was a screamer.

   “Miss Mona, I was thinking we could… Uh, for me.”

   “You want a wash too, Billy?” She perked, hair bobbing as her little platforms clicked excitedly. “Come, come, sit down. Evie can get you shampooed to start.”

   Evie’s entire body locked. Billy smirked at her, but noticed an opportunity reach her eyes. The pen stabbed back into a cup. Lips spread in a devious way. He saw horns spring out of her big curls.

   Fuck, she looked hot though.

   It drove him wild. Evie with a fire behind her eyes. All plush curves and lingering allure. That amber perfume melted him.

   “I’d be so happy to help.” She gripped Billy’s leather bomber and jerked him into a chair. He had a semi at this point. "Get comfy."

   Hell, the girl was plotting a murder with that smoldering expression. Still, Billy was game because she was giving him attention. His tongue swept pink lips. Peachy skin glowing.

   There was something off about Evie too. This sunken manner like her energy had been sapped. The slightest dark circles under brown eyes. Skirt Safari was barely three weeks ago. He removed his jacket when Mona reached for it to hang it with Max’s and Susan’s.

   Dead boy walking.

   Max snickered from her chair across the way. She and Susan sat with little floral capes, already getting their pampering. Evie moved Billy’s hair and pulled a lilac cape around his neck.

   “Ack!”

   “Oh? Too tight. My bad.” She snapped a button. “Put your head back. Into the sink now.”

   Billy thought to pray for mercy, tilted back into the porcelain. He asked for this. The sink went on. Ice. 

   “Too cold?”

   “Nope.” Teeth chattered. Evie had that devilish look still. Decided to make it warmer. Lifted the nozzle and hit his face.

   And Billy took it. Sputtering.

   “Oh, so sorry…” Her tongue clicked. Didn’t even try to sound sincere.

   “Just a little water. No big deal.”

   Her bottom lip pouted. She sprayed his face again. Billy snickered through the coughing, fists held the chair tight.

   “You’re fucking waterboarding me, Fenny.” He'd spat, blinking rapidly.

   “What?” Evie paused then kept spraying him as he tried to reply.

   “You’re-”

   “I’m, what?” She came off and Billy snorted before the water splashed again.

   “Ngh-ffff- ”

   “Can’t hear you, Billy.” Evie caught Max losing it across the way.

   The boy took all the torment like a champ so she let up. He didn’t even snap when she pulled his hair shampooing it. 

   “I like it rough, Angel.” Billy hissed at her fingers pulling so she sprayed him again. Made him buck like a mad feline. He seemed to almost love it. This was foreplay to him.

   “Creep. Don’t pitch a tent in that cape.” Evie stuffed a towel in his face. Smiled cheerfully. All syrup. “We're done, mommy.”

   “Let’s see what I can do for these curls, Billy.” Mona let Claudia work on Susan while her new hire took over for Maxine. “I hope Evie gave you a good start.”

   She certainly revved his motor, but he wasn't going to tell her mother that.

   “So nice. I feel even more relaxed now.” Billy twitched a stressed smile. Earned himself a few good boy points.

   Evie cracked a grin at him, arms crossing before she went back to reception. Unbelievable.

   Mona had Billy chattering about his car and school and how he'd just turned eighteen in December. Life was coming his way. Evie took to doodling song lyrics in no order and tapped her pen. Mona either talked Billy into hair curlers or just started doing it. Which was another bout of amusement.

   And Billy stared at Evie the entire time. Even when she made it a point to face away. Sat on the stool with her legs crossed, leaning forward to jot her little lyrics down. Susan swept her eyes between them.

   Both relentlessly stubborn.

   “Mona, I’ve been wanting to repay you back for the dinner this month. How about tomorrow? Our place this time.” Came her voice when a hair dryer shut off.

   “We’ll bring the dessert.” Fingers played with Billy’s curls. Reminded him of his mother. Fluffed some life into them. He decided this salon was better than the places he used to go. 

   Music played, songs changing as time continued. Evie decided her luck couldn’t get any worse when Carol’s red hair appeared in her line of sight. Walking with her little friend group without Tommy. Likely headed to the nail place down the block.

   Carol spotted Evie behind glass and whispered something that had her friends howling before they went. 

   “Bitches.” Billy sauntered up behind her. Golden hair sparkling.

   “As if you had nothing to do with that.” Evie smacked her notebook shut. Sat straighter as he shook his locks out. Curls shining with lift. Like the sun just kissed them.

   “How do I look?” One brow rose. Teasing.

   “The same.” Gorgeous. 

   “Lunch?”

   “Already ate.” Evie’s lips pressed when she said that. They spoke out of earshot under the music. Not noticing the glances on them.

   “Guess I’ll still be seeing you for dinner tomorrow.” Billy counted some bills out. Snatched a pen and scribbled a note on a single. Dropped the money on the counter and pushed the one he’d written on into her pocket. She lifted an arm and glared, but let him. “We'll do this again some time. The back and forth. I pull your hair and you pull mine."

   "Unlikely."

   "Hm. Invest in waterproof red lipstick. Don't they have waterproof makeup now? Looks better on you than on me." His voice dropped.

   "Wow. Cocky now, are you?"

   "I just think it'll take us a lot of tries to get to a bad kiss. Don't you, Evie?" He replied pointedly, leaning over to speak in that low baritone. Pure amber honey.

   "I think you're in denial, Billy. Gotta put pride aside." Evie bit her tongue and turned away. Loathed the blush glittering her cheeks.

   "Takes one to know. I’ll wait for Max in the car. Need a smoke. See you around, Angel.” Billy swayed off after grabbing his coat. Out into the cold. 

   Evie put his money in their register and plucked the dollar out.

   “Sorry. -A shithead.”

   Billy had even gone out of his way to draw a little frowny face with a tear. Evie caught him looking at her from his car and rolled her eyes, stuffing the bill away.

   Tried not to smile. Failed.

   “Billy doesn’t do this kind of thing.” Max appeared a bit later. Glowy and red. Vibrant. “Just...so you know.”

   “It shows.” Evie sighed out her nose. Watched Max say bye to her mother since she was staying with Mona before hurrying out into the Camaro. One rev and it skidded off. Snow flurries falling in its wake.

   “She seemed mad,” Max had said in the car, “but, maybe less mad.”

   “It was a big fuck up. She’ll be mad a long time.”

   “And that bothers you.”

   “No.” Billy flicked his cigarette out the window. Watched his sister’s lips press before he scoffed. “Max, I did something evil. You understand? Evie wants fuck all to do with me.”

   And he couldn't throw her from his thoughts.

   “What did you do?” Max leaned in to press the subject. “Just tell me.”

   The gist of it came out by the time they parked at Cherry Lane. 

   Max just blinked at him. Flared. Billy cut the engine and paused, glancing at her.

   “Why do boys do this to girls?” She asked, fists clenched in her lap. Rigid and puffy. “I don’t understand. Are my friends going to be like you when they get older?”

   “No, Max, they’re not. I’m a piece of shit.” His shoulders came up.

   “And you didn’t have to be… Keep groveling, you owe Evie that much.” She slammed the door when she got out. Expected to get barked at and slowed because he made no move. Just flicked his lighter open and closed there. Blue eyes on the steering wheel. 

   Exhaling into the frost, Max came around the car and jerked Billy’s door open. 

   “You suck at this. She doesn’t want you to do this self-deprecating game where you play the asshole victim. She wants a real apology.”

   “I don’t know what the fuck she wants me to say anymore.”

   “Maybe you don’t have to say anything to her.” Max paused. “Those girls and people at school, they’re mean to her. Aren't they? You’re the Keg King. Are you really going to let that happen?”

   “They’re just fucking assholes, ignore them.”

   “Easy for you to say being popular. What happened to Evie during the dance has been happening to her through all of high school. Don’t you see that? If you really cared, you’d do something to stop it.” The door shut on Billy before he could reply. 

   Max went up into the house, left him to stew on that until he followed her inside. Away from the snow and Evie’s penetrating eyes that were beginning to haunt him.

~~~~

Tensions are just shooting all directions with these two dorks. Thank you all so much for reading! Feel free to chat or ask about the taglist!!

TAGGED: @80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason​ @orxhidshavana​   @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly​ @kellyk-chan​ @billy--hargroves​

You make me feel something like summertime

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker)

Rating: Teen (T)

Notes: I was thinking about my own beach vacation and my head was suddenly filled with thoughts of Starker meeting at the beach. The following fluff ensued. Thanks to @ohwereusingourmadeupnames for several nudges throughout this!

Words: 4.6k

Summary:

There was the older couple staying a few houses down that always walked by in the late afternoon, the family with three kids that passed by around noon, and then there was the Golden Boy, as Peter had started calling him in his head. He was Peter’s favorite. He strolled by in the mid-afternoon with a couple of older folks, who Peter assumed were his parents. Golden Boy had dark, curly hair, his upper body was tan from days in the sun, and his smile was more blinding than the sun’s reflection off the ocean. 

Or, Peter and Tony only have eyes for each other while they’re both on vacation with their families. A lovely summer romance follows.

Throughout his entire life, Peter couldn’t remember anything better than summer vacation. His childhood was filled with plenty of ups and downs, more downs if he was being honest, but summer vacation was always a highlight. Although he and May didn’t live a life of luxury, their annual summer trip was, without fail, the best week of the year.

Over the years, the trips to the family beach house contained more memories and traditions than Peter could possibly put into words. As a child, he lost his first tooth at the house, conquered his fear of jellyfish (mostly), and learned the hard way why he needed sunscreen on his ears. As he got older, the week at the beach provided much-needed relief from the stresses of summer jobs, college essays, and job applications. No matter what was going on in his world, the beach made everything better, it was truly his happy place, no matter how cheesy that sounded even to himself.

During college, the trips to the beach were more difficult. New jobs and less time off made the annual trip less frequent, but all the more special. A few years post-grad, Peter was settled into his job enough to take the time off for him and May to take their trip. It had been a couple of years since they’d gone, and Peter was itching for that feeling of home. As soon as the salty, humid air filled his lungs, Peter felt his entire being fill with relief. May had barely parked their rental car at the house when Peter practically ran down the walkway, eager to feel his toes in the sand and let the sounds of the ocean drown out the buzzing of work he’d left behind. 

May came up behind him, equally relieved to be at her family’s beach house. 

“Feels like we never left, huh?” she sighed.

Peter took a deep breath in, trying to soak in as much sea and sand as he could. “Best feeling in the world,” he agreed.

The next day passed in a blur of rolling out of bed late and heading straight for the beach - after he covered himself in sunscreen, thank you very much. He and May spent the day in comfortable quiet, sharing snippets of the books they read, pointing out cute dogs on the beach, and deciding which restaurant they wanted to visit that night. It was peaceful, comforting, and everything Peter needed from a vacation.

The following day, Peter started recognizing the faces of folks that passed their chairs on daily walks and shared kind smiles in acknowledgment. There was the older couple staying a few houses down that always walked by in the late afternoon, the family with three kids that passed by around noon, and then there was the Golden Boy, as Peter had started calling him in his head. He was Peter’s favorite. He strolled by in the mid-afternoon with a couple of older folks, who Peter assumed were his parents. Golden Boy had dark, curly hair, his upper body was tan from days in the sun, and his smile was more blinding than the sun’s reflection off the ocean. 

Peter attempted to be subtle when he walked by, but even his dark sunglasses couldn’t hide the way he stared when the other man passed by. After the first time he’d walked past, Peter was determined to find out where this beautiful human was staying. He immediately popped up to take his own beach walk, searching for the bright red and gold swim trunks he’d seen the man wearing. When his eyes found the very loud fabric, he blushed, finding Golden Boy’s eyes trained on him. They shared a small smile, neither man willing to take the leap to say hello. 

Tony looked up from his seat in the sand, struck by the curly-haired boy he’d seen on his walk a short while ago. Although he complained at his parents’ insistence that he walk with them, he was grateful he’d given in. The man he’d seen lounging under his umbrella absolutely took his breath away, and he was thrilled to see those long legs passing in front of him now. He smiled shyly, hoping his blush was hidden by the slight sunburn on his cheeks. His attention was quickly redirected by his mother calling from him from their walkway, forcing him to turn away. When he looked back, the other man was already headed back the way he came; Tony could only hope that meant he’d walked all this way just looking for him.

The following day, Tony and Peter took more beach walks than either of them had taken in their lives. Each time they passed each other they shared a smile, maybe a wave. At one point, Peter was taking a quick dip in the ocean, cooling off from the sweltering heat and humidity. As soon as his head popped up out of the water, his eye’s met Golden Boy’s. The other man appeared to stop in his tracks, just staring for a moment. Bravely, Peter threw him a wink before pushing off the sand and diving further into the water.

By late afternoon, they both started walking toward the other at the same time, unintentionally colliding mid-walk. They saw each other at a distance, slowly approaching each other in the sea of people around them. As they got closer, they both slowed, coming to a stop in front of each other. Peter looked down at the tide washing over their feet, not sure what to say to the person in front of him.

“In all the years I’ve been coming here, I’ve never decided to take a walk on my own,” Tony shared quietly. “I blame you for all the exercise I’ve done today”.

Peter let out a loud laugh, unable to stop the snort that accompanied it.

“That’s about the best thing I’ve ever been blamed for, so I’ll take it”. 

Peter smiled up at Golden Boy, unable to resist. He extended a hand between them, gripping tightly when the other man reciprocated the gesture.

“I’m Peter”.

“Nice to meet you Peter, I’m Tony”.

“Tony,” Peter repeated with a smile. “It’ll be nice to stop referring to you as Golden Boy in my head,” he admitted.

“I don’t know, I might prefer that,” Tony chuckled.

They dropped the hands between them, and Peter returned his gaze to the sand, unsure how to continue their conversation. Tony interrupted his thoughts before he could get too unsure of himself.

“Well, since we’re both walking, we could walk together?” Tony asked carefully.

Peter nodded, excited at the prospect of getting to talk to Tony a bit longer. 

The two men walked for nearly an hour, completely unaware of time passing or any obligations they had to their respective families. Peter learned that Tony had been visiting this same beach for years but usually came much later in the summer. Peter blushed when Tony noted it was a shame it took this long for them to cross paths. Peter talked about living in Boston and Tony lit up, excitedly sharing that he’d gone to MIT before moving to New York City. The two of them swapped favorite stories and traditions at the beach, embarrassing moments from college, and agreed that the working world was far more terrifying than they expected. 

At some point, they turned around and started walking back toward both of their houses. When they finally made it back to Peter’s house, they came to a stop. May had already headed up to the house, just Peter’s chair remained under the umbrella.

“Are you free at all tomorrow?” Peter asked before he could think too long about it.

“I have a very busy day of doing nothing on the beach,” Tony grinned.

“Can I steal you for a couple of hours in the afternoon?” Peter requested.

“Absolutely, Petey. I’ll meet you here at two o’clock?”

“That’s perfect, Tony”. 

Tony reached out to take one of Peter’s hands, squeezing tightly before turning and continuing down the beach toward his house. Peter quickly gathered the last of his belongings on the beach before turning toward their walkway. He took one glance in Tony’s direction, thrilled to see Tony looking back at him over his shoulder. They shared a quick smile before nodding and heading off.

When Peter opened the sliding glass door to the living room, he was met with May’s knowing gaze. He smiled, knowing she’d see right through it.

“So, I uh, I need the car tomorrow afternoon,” he explained.

“Is that so?” May asked with a smile. “Does this have to do with your sudden interest in beach walks? It’s romantic, don’t get me wrong, but not really your style,” she pressed.

Peter sighed, sitting down across from her. “His name is Tony. I don’t know May, there’s just something about him. He’s brilliant, makes me laugh, makes me feel,” he paused, “important, somehow. I know that sounds nuts, but, uh, yeah. I’m taking him mini-golfing tomorrow”.

May just nodded, happy to see Peter excited about someone. “Well, I expect a full report tomorrow night”.

With that, May left the living room, squeezing Peter’s shoulder on her way toward the kitchen. Peter was grateful for the easy relationship they’d always had. They were everything to each other for as long as Peter could remember and he would never take that for granted. 

The rest of the evening and the following morning were uneventful for both Peter and Tony. Both men went about their respective routines and family traditions, counting the minutes until their date. Tony’s parents had pressed him when he arrived home after the walk with Peter, mostly concerned about his absence from cocktail hour. He brushed them off, letting them know he’d be out for a few hours the following afternoon. His dad hadn’t thought twice about it, but Tony didn’t miss the small smile on his mother’s face, curious about her son’s happy demeanor.

On the beach the next day, Peter refrained from taking any walks down the beach, not wanting to appear too excited to see Tony. He knew they would have some time to themselves later, and that was more than enough to look forward too. Tony, apparently, got roped into another walk with his parents and smiled widely when he passed Peter in the middle of the day. May glanced up, watching the interaction between Peter and Tony, smiling to herself at the way Tony looked at her nephew.

A few minutes before two o’clock, Peter was showered and ready, dressed in casual shorts and a t-shirt. It was far too warm for anything nicer, even for a first date. He perched himself on the railing of their walkway, facing the direction of Tony’s house, eagerly awaiting the other man. When he saw Tony emerge from the crowds of people on the beach, it felt like his breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Tony was wearing slim-cut shorts that ended just above his knees, and a short sleeve button up that hugged his waist. His golden skin went on for miles, and Peter couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Before he knew it, Tony had ascended the few steps and came to a stop directly in front of Peter. 

“Tony, you look incredible,” Peter breathed.

“Thank you,” Tony blushed. “You look lovely as well, Peter”.

He smiled, hopping down from his perch on the railing. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Tony answered easily. “Although, you never did tell me what you have planned for us”.

“How do you feel about mini-golf?” Peter asked.

“You’re on Pete,” Tony beamed.

They made their way to the car, and Peter led Tony to the passenger door before opening it for him. Tony smiled a brilliant, heart-stopping smile, and Peter had to fight the urge to comment on it out loud. The drive to the mini-golf course was comfortable. The radio played quietly while Tony and Peter chatted about their music preferences, both sharing a love of live music and concerts. They laughed when they discovered they’d attended the same Shakey Graves show in Boston a couple of years prior.

Peter pulled into his favorite mini-golf course, the same one he and May used to come to every summer. He and Tony were surprised to find the course mostly empty, pleased to have the place almost to themselves. Once they were situated with their colorful golf balls and putters, they approached the first hole.

“I feel like now is the time to tell you that I’m really good at this,” Tony said as he lined up his first putt. 

“Well, I’m absolutely terrible, so we’re in for a fun afternoon,” Peter laughed.

True to their words, the first couple of holes were smooth sailing for Tony, easily navigating windmills and tunnels, while Peter just tried not to hit his golf ball out of bounds. They shared easy smiles and soft touches as they passed each other between putts. When Peter launched a putt clear over the barrier, Tony just winked as he replaced the ball, giving him several do-overs.

“How did you get so good at mini-golf anyway?” Peter asked as they walked toward the next tee.

“So full disclosure, I’m a total nerd,” Tony began. “I studied physics in college and my friends and I used to make our own little courses to try and stump each other. They got crazier over the years, it just became our thing”.

“You’re right, you are a nerd, but that also sounds amazing,” Peter chuckled.

“It’s still a thing too,” Tony continued. “My best friend Rhodey is getting married later this year and his bachelor party is going to be one big homemade mini-golf course, designed by yours truly”.

“You have a lot going on in that head, don’t you?” Peter inquired, turning to head for the next hole.

Tony just shrugged. “I guess so, I’ve just gotten used to it over the years. I am pretty hyperactive though,” he admitted with a touch of self-deprecation.

Their hands were hanging between them, nearly close enough to brush pinkies. In a moment of bravery, Peter reached out and squeezed Tony’s hand tightly, hoping to convey even a fraction of the thoughts and feelings swirling inside of him. Tony gripped back, just as tightly, smiling over at Peter. 

The rest of the course passed in a similar fashion. Tony gave Peter all the extra shots he wanted while absolutely smoking Peter with too many holes-in-one to count. They held hands each time they advanced to the next hole, grinning at each other every time. As they approached the final hole, complete with an upside-down loop, Peter was determined to get it on the first try. 

Tony stepped up first, demonstrating where to aim and how hard to hit, making it through the loop easily. His red golf ball rolled easily down the turf, dropping into the cup.

Peter pouted slightly. “Now that’s just unfair”.

Tony laughed, walking down the path toward the loop. He used his putter to point out where Peter should aim. “Aim for this right here, and hit it harder than you think you need to, nice and easy”.

Peter rolled his eyes, stepping up to his blue golf ball. He checked his aim, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He swung back and through, feeling the solid contact with the putter. He watched the golf ball glide down the turf, taking the loop with ease and slowly approaching the cup. He held his breath, willing the ball to make it to the lip of the cup. He dashed down to where Tony was standing so he could see how far his shot made it. When he saw the little blue golf ball just barely drop into the cup, he threw his arms up in celebration.

“Yes!” he exclaimed.

Tony erupted with loud applause, cheering for Peter’s success. Peter absolutely beamed at him, and Tony was taken aback by the beauty in front of him. Without much thought, he wrapped Peter up in a big hug. Peter’s arms were trapped between their torsos, but he was more than happy at that moment. He couldn’t understand why he was so excited about silly mini-golf shot, but if it meant Tony hugging him like this, he wouldn’t question it.

When they pulled back from the hug, they both smiled at each other, happy and carefree. They were pulled out of their reverie by a father and daughter approaching, clearly trying to finish their own round of golf. Peter blushed, grabbing Tony’s hand and dragging him toward the little clubhouse to drop off their putters. They continued holding hands as they walked toward the car and this time, Tony approached the driver’s side to open the door for Peter, waiting until he was settled before shutting the door firmly.

Peter grinned widely, waiting for Tony to round the car and get settled on the passenger side. As soon as they were set, they started back toward the beach. Tony shared more stories about college at MIT and his favorite parts of Boston. Peter took it all in, still figuring out the city he now called home. Tony made several restaurant recommendations, most of which Peter hadn’t even heard of yet. As they turned down the quiet street leading to their houses, Tony directed Peter a bit further to his own driveway. 

Before exiting the car, Tony turned to Peter with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Thank you Peter, I haven’t had that much fun in a while, honestly.”

“Me too, Tony. Come find me on the beach tomorrow morning?” He asked hopefully.

“You bet, Petey”.

The next morning, Tony did exactly that. Peter had just gotten settled under the umbrella with May, an extra chair next to him, when Tony approached. May smiled but kept her attention trained on the book she was reading, giving Peter some privacy. Peter stood, smiling widely at Tony.

“You came,” he said with relief.

“Of course I did”.

Tony came in close, giving Peter a tight hug before stepping away to introduce himself to May.

“You must be Ms. Parker,” Tony said, extending his hand as May rose to her feet.

“Oh lord, please call me May, honey”.

“May, it’s great to meet you, I’m Tony. Thank you so much for letting me crash your beach day with Peter,” he said sincerely.

“Sure thing, Tony. What’s a good beach trip without good company?” May winked in Peter’s direction, making him groan with embarrassment. Even at 25 years old, May knew exactly how to embarrass him.

“Alright, enough of that. Tony, I brought you a chair and an extra towel,” Peter gestured toward the beach gear. 

May subtly scooted her chair a bit further over, giving the men some space of their own. 

Peter and Tony settled into their chairs, with just a hint of space between them. They spent the whole day lounging on the beach together, taking leisurely walks, and jumping in the ocean when the heat became unbearable. It was surprisingly easy to spend such an extended amount of time together. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about, but also sat in companionable quiet while reading and people-watching. Every so often, they would head up to the house, grabbing snacks and cold drinks for them and May. Peter quickly showed Tony around the house, loving the way Tony’s eyes widened with the stories he told throughout the short tour. 

The next day, Peter threw his beach gear in a bag and headed down the beach to Tony’s umbrellas. Tony had been more than willing to come back to Peter’s spot, but Peter insisted, wanting to see Tony in his own element. As he approached, Tony met him at the water’s edge, twining their hands together with a big smile.

“My parents are a lot,” he said quickly. “But my mom is excited to meet you”.

“I’m good with a lot, Tony”.

Tony pulled him toward the umbrellas in front of his house, his parents already standing from their chairs.

“Mom, Dad, this is Peter. His family’s house is down just past the big green one. Peter, this is my mom Maria and my dad Howard”.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Stark,” Peter greeted as he stepped forward to shake Maria’s hand. 

“Call us Maria and Howard, dear,” she said easily, smiling kindly at Peter.

Peter turned to Howard, shaking his hand with a firm grip and a small nod. Peter knew the relationship between Howard and Tony was tense, but he could see the love for his son in Howard’s eyes.

“Thank you so much for having me down here for a bit today,” he said, mimicking Tony’s statement to May.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you,” Maria waved off. 

Peter and Tony spent the say much like the previous one, laughing and smiling, sharing a few more touches as they got more comfortable with each other. At one point, Tony challenged Peter to a round of bocce ball and hauled his family’s set up from the house. Their competitive spirits kept them entertained for a while, each man throwing the Palina further away than the last round. After one too many close calls with the dog in the group next to them, they packed up the set and settled on a swim, desperate to rinse the sand off. 

Peter wasn’t sure what happened when they got in the water, but suddenly it was as if magnets pulled them closer together, unable to separate for too long. They floated out to shoulder-deep water and Tony felt Peter’s arms wind around his waist, pulling him in close. Embracing the buoyancy of the water, Tony allowed himself to be pulled into Peter and wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist, his arms settling around Peter’s neck. Water-slick skin slid together easily, and Tony found himself bobbing with the current, secure in Peter’s grasp.

“Hey there, Pete,” he breathed, his nose nearly pressed against Peter’s.

“Is this okay Tony? I just couldn’t help myself,” Peter admitted shyly.

“More than okay, as long as you don’t dunk me under a wave”.

They stayed like that, just holding each other close, bouncing with the waves, enjoying the feeling of being pressed together. They were both avoiding the same topic, neither wanting to break the spell they’d fallen under together. Eventually, Tony leaned his head into Peter’s shoulder, sighing loudly.

“So, we leave tomorrow,” Peter began.

“If we ignore it, maybe it won’t happen,” Tony pouted.

Peter squeezed Tony tightly. “What do you want to happen, Tony? After we leave tomorrow, anything can happen,” he murmured.

“I want us to keep doing this. I mean, obviously we can’t stay in an ocean forever, but I want there to be an us”. Tony lifted his head from where it was resting against Peter’s shoulders, gauging the other man’s reaction.

Peter leaned in, closing the minimal distance between them and pressed a salty kiss to Tony’s lips. He kept one hand secured around Tony’s waist and brought the other one up to tangle in Tony’s hair, holding him close as if the waves would carry him away. Tony hummed against Peter’s lips, tightening his arms around Peter’s shoulders.

A wave knocked them off balance, causing them to pull back with a gasp. Once he had his feet under him again, Peter smiled at Tony.

“I’d very much like for there to be an us too, Tony”.

“New York and Boston really aren’t that far apart, right?” 

“Definitely not too far,” Peter agreed. “We should probably head up, huh? I promised May I’d be back in time to make dinner”.

“Only if you let me steal you in the morning before we go. Just a quick walk?”

“Sounds perfect Tony”.

With that, Tony unwound his legs from Peter’s waist, opting to grab his hand as they made their way toward the shore. Once Peter had his beach bag in hand, Tony leaned in to leave a quick kiss on Peter’s cheek.

“See you bright and early, Pete”.

“Bright and early, Tones”.

When Peter finally made it back to the house, May was waiting on the porch. He knew his smile gave him away when May raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“So, not just a beach fling, Peter?”

Peter shook his head. “Not just a beach fling”.

With that, Peter headed inside for a quick shower before starting on dinner for the two of them. He felt bad that he hadn’t spent as much time with May this trip, so he planned to make it up to her that night. Once dinner was ready and they were seated on the porch, he couldn’t help but gush about Tony. May just smiled, trying to remember seeing Peter this excited about something. 

“So, when are you gonna visit him?” she asked.

“Um, we haven’t really talked about it yet. I guess we’ll just see how things go for now,” he said nervously.

“Make plans before we leave Peter. Distance is hard, but having a date to look forward to makes things easier, May advised.

Their conversation shifted after that, and they talked late into the night wishing their vacation would never end. Before Peter went to sleep that night, he checked his calendar for open weekends, wondering how soon he could visit Tony. On a whim, he bought a train ticket to New York for just over a month later, hoping Tony wouldn’t find it aggressive. He went to sleep with a smile on his face, hopeful for what was to come.

At eight o’clock the next morning Tony and Peter met up on the beach, about halfway between their houses, exactly where they’d collided on a walk just a few days prior. Time moved differently that week; Peter felt as if he’d known Tony much longer than he had.

They joined hands and walked quietly, enjoying the emptiness of the beach as most families were packing up and leaving that day. They smiled as they passed by some other folks soaking up their last few breaths of salty air, doing the same thing themselves.

Tony was the one to break the silence after a while. “This feels silly at this point, but um, can I have your number?”

Peter cracked up at that, looking over at Tony who smiled right back at him. He reached for his phone and handed it to Tony, encouraging him to enter his information. He immediately fired off a quick text and heard Tony’s phone ping in his pocket.

“This might be too much too soon,” Peter started, “but I bought a train ticket to New York City at the end of next month. I just wanted us to have tentative plans to see each other, but I can always change it,” he rushed out.

Tony stopped walking, using his grip on Peter’s hand to pull him in close. He pressed a tender kiss to Peter’s lips, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. 

“I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I bought a train ticket to Boston in two weeks,” Tony admitted sheepishly. “I couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing when I’d get to see you next and I got a little eager”.

Peter was speechless and blown away by Tony. He fisted one hand in Tony’s shirt, the other in his curls as he pressed his forehead against Tony’s own. “Tony,” he breathed. 

“I’m not letting you get away, Pete,” Tony murmured softly.

“Right back at you, Golden Boy”.

A Critical Look at “Pokemon: Sword and Shield” From a Casual’s Perspective...

A/N: Hey! if you’re reading this, then thank you! I don’t know why, but I thought to myself, “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to write a pointless essay about a Pokemon game?” And then I realized today was the 1YR anniversary of SWSH, so I figured I might as well just do it! So even though I’m late and probably nobody will really care to read all this nonsense, I wrote it! If you’re interested in all the analyses of PKMN SWSH, but aren’t too invested in the technical mumbo-jumbo used by the more hardcore fans, then maybe you’ll enjoy this. 

Also, it’s worth mentioning that I’m literally just some rando on the internet saying my opinion. None of this should really be taken SUPER seriously - it’s mainly designed to provoke thought rather than try to argue any specific idea. So if I say something that you don’t agree with, you got two options: 1) Draft a constructive comment or DM to me and we can discuss calmly like adults, 2) shake your idea and ignore this. There’s really no need to get heated up over a video game essay, of all things, so let’s not do that lol. 

But other than that, yeah! If you’re interested in more stuff like this from me (in-depth analyses of Pokemon games from the perspective of a low-key casual), lemme know! I’d love to chat with anyone about this awesome series.

So, without any further ado, let’s get into the essay (warning: it’s like ~8k words).

Introduction...

Welcome to the wonderful world of Pokemon! Love it or hate it, Pokemon has had a huge impact on popular culture in countless countries in a number of different ways, sparking memes, dreams, and happiness everywhere! It holds a very special place in my heart - Pokemon was a game that I got to share with my two older siblings, was one of the first fandoms I got into, and was a big reason as to why I grew to love creative writing so much after writing a couple fanfictions for the games. I’ve been playing Pokemon ever since my brother gave me a copy of Pokemon: Ruby and have been a devoted fan ever since. While I may not be super into the strategy and damn near mathematical aspects of gameplay, I’d like to consider myself a relatively knowledgeable fan with enough extra knowledge to give a look at one of these games from a casual, yet analytical view. So what game other than the newest title, Pokemon: Sword and Shield, with its release anniversary being today? In this casual online essay, I hope to describe all my thoughts of Sword and Shield (which I’ll shorten down to just “SWSH”) from the perspective of the everyday Pokemon fan.

General Gameplay...

Many top-title games of Nintendo are best known for their simplicity: in Super Mario Bros, you’re a mustachioed red guy jumping on monsters to try and save some random princess (who may or may not be in this castle); in The Legend of Zelda, you’re a green elf-looking guy slashing wildly at monsters with a sword given to you by some old guy in hopes of defeating some ultimate bad guy; and in Pokemon, you’re a child wandering around the region catching monsters who also accidentally saves the world before becoming the very best (like no-one ever was). And while the games themselves have grown from that initial stylistic simplicity, some have lost that creative in-depthness in favor of being playable for children. This is probably the biggest issue with the newer Pokemon games as of late.

Regardless, let’s look into the playability of SWSH.

It’s played like your regular Pokemon game; you’re a kid who journeys to become the Champion of Pokemon Battling with your friend, catching monsters known as “Pokemon” with pocket-sized balls dubbed “Pokeballs.” But I’m sure you’re all aware of that information, and are instead asking “Well, what’s the deeper plot?” Yeah, no, that’s it. You’re a kid catching Pokemon to become champion - oh, and you also accidentally save the world from a power-hungry businessman - but that’s neither here nor there.

Plot aside, the game is a bit barebones. It’s pretty linear gameplay (literally linear - the map of the Galar region is almost exactly a straight-line waltz from Postwick to Wyndon, which is a bit weird after dealing with the giant, sprawling maps of earlier generations) where you travel from place to place, beating gyms and catching ‘mons, before getting into a couple scuffles and becoming champion. For an RPG-styled game, it comes off as much too simplistic for older fans (I’d even reason that it’s too simplistic for younger players, as well). While I will say, I don’t exactly miss the days of hopelessly wandering around a pixel city, trying desperately to figure out how to move on to the next town because the answer to the puzzle is hidden in this giant area that my little peanut-brain couldn’t figure out at the time. But it is a bit demeaning to get “Hey, do you know where to go?” and  “Hey, follow me so you don’t get lost!” and “Oh, yeah, want another tutorial on how to easily catch Pokemon for the fourth time in a row?” every two seconds in a city where there’s only two places to check out.

But we can’t really discuss the gameplay of Pokemon without discussing the highlights of the region. Ever since the transition from 2D to 3D, Pokemon games have begun a trend of gimmicks - which I like to call “battle enhancers” - that they use to add uniqueness to their games. X&Y had Mega Evolution, Sun and Moon (and USUM) had Z-Moves, and now we have Dynamax! As we all know, battle enhancers are the strategy by which the player uses some extraterrestrial/magic stone to physically enhance one pokemon at a time for a certain period of time - in the case of Dynamax, the pokemon either grows in size or changes in form, gaining the ability to use special type-based attacks for a duration of three turns.

Honestly, I think it’s a pretty fun mechanic! Dynamax combines the good components of both Z-Moves and Mega Evolution - new forms, awesome moves, and a ticking clock. It adds a bit more strategy to the battle enhancer, where the player actually has to plan out who and when to Dynamax (though it’s really not that hard - most everyone will save it for their ace or the pokemon with the type advantage at the very end of the battle, because that’s what you do). But it’s fun and creative, making the battle a bit more exciting when you see your beloved ace become gargantuan on a field while the audience chants in excitement. Initially, I was skeptical of the battle enhancer, but once I threw myself into the game and really got into it, I felt it was fun and cool for the region. My feelings were further improved when I learned that Dynamax was inspired by the idea that the Nintendo Switch had the potential to be played on the TV as well as in a hand-held mode. The idea of turning pokemon “big” on a “big-screen” is really just so cute to me, really. Overall, it’s a fitting concept that is paired well to the game when everything is considered.

But when you look beyond the Dynamx experience to find more content in the game… there’s really not much else. Many people (including me) were ecstatic to hear about the free-roam areas in SWSH - the Wild Areas. Here, you can do all the fun grinding stuff that makes Pokemon games a bit more challenging and fun - hatching eggs, shiny-hunting, running around in circles, Dynamax dens, etc. But when looking at other Pokemon games, that’s really it. Let’s examine Pokemon: Sun and Moon, for example. This game really shines not just for its refreshing setting and compelling plot-line, but also for it’s amount of cute and quirky mini-games to be enjoyed for a good while outside of the main story. Pyukumuku Chucking, Mantine Surfing, the Alolan Photo Club, Ultra Warp Ride Travel - a good handful of mini-games that appeal to different kinds of people! All of these mini-games aren’t just tossed in there, either - they have a fitting place in the culture of the world and add to it, rather than just reiterating it. But when you look for mini-games in SWSH, you won’t really find anything aside from just battling. Sure, there’s the Battle Tower, as well, but I’ll personally say that I’ve never been a fan of the concept of post-game NPC battle buildings. For a hardcore player, they might be fun, but as a casual who can’t devote the time to really dig into understanding how IVs and competitive breeding works, they’re really no fun. Not to mention that nothing is really being added or developed with these battle buildings; they don’t add to lore, they don’t add to the culture of the region, you don’t even really gain anything from it - they’re pretty much just places to battle the occasional familiar face and that’s it. While I’m sure plenty of people adore these facilities in the games, I’ve never been too partial to them (I’d even prefer those god-forsaken casinos over another goddamn battle frontier).

But my biggest problem lies with the release of the DLC. While I’m not against the idea of DLC in general, both The Isle of Armour and The Crown Tundra left a bitter taste in my mouth when I started thinking about the issue of playability in SWSH.

I have always been more invested in the storyline of Pokemon games rather than the battling aspects. Usually I’ve always just gotten through the main story, then wandered around to find extra post-game content or mini-games, and then moved on to other games. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing - I just figure that the games have served their purpose for me upon completion, so rather than bore myself wandering around and doing things that don’t interest me, I go find another game that has more story-based content. That being said, I finished SWSH in less time than any other Pokemon game (I’d say somewhere around twenty hours, complete with me running around in circles like an idiot before rushing through content intermittently); as a result, I was no longer actively playing the game by the time the DLC was announced.

I’ll be honest and say that when I learned about all that was being offered in both sets of DLC, I felt a bit betrayed. I’m well-aware that Nintendo is a corporate business, and therefore will always prioritize financial gain over their fans’ lasting enjoyment of their titles - that’s just a fact of life. But I couldn’t help but feel like I paid a bunch of money for the bundled titles, only to play a game that hardly could be considered worthwhile or satisfying without added headcanons or fan-works, and then get told that extra content is available that may or may not add satisfaction to the experience that’s already long since ended for me. It was just a bit disappointing - and I’m not talking about the whole “Dexit” deal (I actually was on-board with the idea of having no real National Dex - I felt it added realism to the games and would force players to get to know the new Pokemon instead of just choosing the same team they always have since Gen 1 or whatever). My gripe is that I paid for a whole game, wasn’t satisfied with the result, only to hear later that the content that I might have been missing is available to pay for? That’s incredibly annoying. Not to mention that I was further disappointed after learning about the contents of the DLC, but we’ll get into that later.

Overall, the playability of SWSH is very basic, but can be enjoyable if you suspend belief and just enjoy it for what it is. When it comes to storyline, it’s not much of a game, and doesn’t sport much post-game content besides battling.

Immersion and Ambience...

Many of my friends can attest that I tend to like silly, fantastical concepts because I personally love to throw myself into the universe being offered to me. Pokemon is really no different - the games have always sported a very immersive experience for me thanks to the combination of interesting regions and evocative music (especially the music).

I think that most every Pokemon fan has a specific region, city, and music theme that sparks a plethora of nostalgic emotions to the point of near tears. For me, that’s always been Pokemon: Platinum, the Twinleaf Town theme - just staring into the rippling reflection of the pond by the player’s home, listening to that beautiful synth clarinet playing that nostalgic melody - it makes my heart beat with so much fervent passion that I hardly have the words to describe it! And I think that sense of nostalgia - regardless of whether or not those memories are old or new - has always been a strong-suit for Pokemon games. They always have the ability to inspire such deep emotions in me and other alike in a variety of ways, further adding to the ability to immerse us into the game’s world. And whether your favorite area is as simple as Twinleaf Town in the Sinnoh region, or as agonizing as Rock Tunnel in Kanto, it’s the spirit of certain cities/towns/routes that further add to the immersion of the world in question. But how well does SWSH hold those values? Spoiler Alert: Not very well.

SWSH, in the end, is still a Pokemon game - so the setting is very vibrant and colorful and everything that can hold my attention for long periods of time. But the problem arises when one begins to progress through the game and continuously forgets what’s where and where’s what. A lot of the map is painfully basic (again, due to the literal linear nature of the Galar region) and the cities themselves kind of lack their own real originality. There was an attempt at unique cities that’s become iconic of the Pokemon franchise, but it doesn’t really stick. I think most people would agree with me that the only real memorable areas in the main game were Slumbering Weald, Ballonlea, and Spikemuth, and each of these areas have their own set of problems that also make them a bit difficult to fully enjoy. At their core, most all Galarian cities have the same basic set-up: basic green plants (if plants are in that area at all), the same brick roads that lead either to the gym or to a route leading in/out of city to another city, and a giant gym/key building in the center of it all. And that’s really about it. No real interesting buildings except for gyms and Rose Tower (and I guess technically the hotels), no extraneous locations that aren’t directly related to the plot or to gimmicks - it’s very bare-bones and really can take you out of the experience.

In a hard contrast, I’ll give the example of Generation 1’s region set up - every city has its own personality that also matches the feel of the region as a whole. Every city is based on colors, and each city is themed after that, respectively (i.e. Vermillion City, the city of sunsets themed around the color orange, is home to the Pokemon Fan Club and the kick-ass electric-type gym that initiates feelings of excitement; Lavender Town, the noble town themed around the color purple, is home to the Pokemon Tower and spooky spirits that inspire feelings of somberness and reticence). Obviously, this isn’t very realistic, but the trick isn’t to replicate reality - it is to inspire reality. The Kanto region is incredibly creative, and therefore is easy to immerse oneself into the world because it’s become a world we are actively interested in. We know that it could never truly be real or plausible, but that hardly matters when we are so enthralled with the colors and set-up and feeling of the towns. We don’t really get much of that in Galar. It probably isn’t such a great idea for your final city - being Wyndon - to feel blank and lifeless when compared to minor cities in the region. And even when we find cities that hold that uniqueness we desire like in Spikemuth or Ballonlea, there’s really no other reason to be there longer than just beating the gym. It’s sad, really. Spikemuth is such a interesting, creative-looking town home to such cool characters, and yet there literally is only one path to get in and out of the town - the town isn’t even given small houses to investigate like literally every other city in the region. It’s a waste of potential! The fact that I can’t investigate such a promising setting that inspires me really takes me out of the world, reminding me that this is just a video game in which you move from Point A to Point B. It’s no longer a fantasy world for me to explore, but instead a line at the DMV to get my Drivers’ License. The only real good thing about this is that fanfiction writers get so much free-reign when it comes to writing about the city - the only thing we really learn about the city is that it’s underfunded and gloomy and that’s literally it. I would have really liked to see more inspired cities around the region where things outside of the main plot can be done, but hopefully this is just a problem we’ll see in this region.

Probably the most important aspect of immersion (in my opinion) is the music. With the potential to make or break a game for me, I hold a lot of expectations on the music found in video games (I’ve been classically trained in music since elementary school, and have always had a fondness for video game music). Pokemon music has always been some of the most inspiring pieces of art in my life - whether it be the kickass battle suite of Champion Cynthia, or the somber piano melody of Emma’s Theme, the music of Pokemon has always been the first thing I notice and analyze whenever playing the latest title. That all being said, I have quite a few notes to make in regards to the soundtrack of SWSH.

I’ll start with the pros, first. Generally, every main title has had its own feel when it comes to the soundtrack - DPP was jazzy and smooth, Sun and Moon was based on popular Hawaiian music meshed together with classic Pokemon synths, RSE was all about the horn section (trombones and french horns all the way!). SWSH, at the end of the day, isn’t much different. The region is inspired by the UK, so it’s no surprise to discover that the soundtrack was inspired by popular British Rock. As a result, a lot of themes went really hard, keeping a hint of individuality even when some battle themes hosted similar instruments. The biggest appeal of the soundtrack, I believe, was found in the little moments, namely the cheers of the gym battle themes. I think it’s safe to say that most people get super hyped when they hear those rhythmical chants coming to life whenever in the final leg of the battle, right when you begin to Dynamax. That’s amazingly exciting, never failing to suck me into that exact moment to gather the power of God and anime to defeat my opponent. While I wasn’t totally rocking out to every single song that came on, I was pretty satisfied with the music of SWSH, overall. It’s not too bad, and hosts a few bops that I still seek out to get my blood pumping.

But, as to be expected, there are plenty of cons when it comes to the soundtrack of SWSH. I could go over this for hours and hours, detailing complex definitions of music theory and basic song comprehension, but I’ll just make this nice and simple: it was really bland.

Note that I said “bland” and not “bad” - the music is fine in my opinion, I just wasn’t feeling the same feelings as I had in previous Pokemon titles. It all felt like Pokemon music, but not much else. It was like remembering hints of a memory long-lost, but you don’t really care about to dig deep into your mind for context. Towns had music, routes had music, pokemon and characters had battle themes, yada yada yada, nothing really to write home about. If I had to pick a song that honestly, truly invoked emotions beyond “Oh it’s battle time, now”, it would have to be the Battle Tower Theme, and that’s most likely because it was written by someone else entirely (Toby Fox, also known as the creator of Undertale and composer of super hard-hitting jams). And the worst part is that I never would have even been able to hear the Battle Tower theme because I hate battle buildings (which is more of a personal problem, I know, but still). Honestly, I would have preferred hearing that theme as compared to Champion Leon’s battle theme - I feel like his champion theme was very bland and lifeless, simply holding all the required elements of a Pokemon battle theme just because that’s what has to happen. It’s uninspired, faceless, and corporate, only to be completely foiled by the unique blast of energy found in the Battle Theme, which just screams “Prove that you’re the best!” over and over to me (also known as a big theme in the Pokemon games, especially in SWSH).

That’s not to say that every other theme in the game was terrible. I much enjoyed Marnie and Piers’ battle themes, but for a different reason. As we know, Piers and Marnie host a more “punk rock” style when compared to literally everyone else in-game, a trademark of Spikemuth citizens. With their occasionally cold and prickly (no pun intended) personalities, their themes go a bit harder into rock-land as compared to characters like Hop or Bede. There’s no conflict of style there - it’s “punk” with “rock”, loads of guitars and bass with a hint of synths to keep that Pokemon flare, and fits a bit better in the setting of the world. Mild conflict arises when we start looking at characters who aren’t rockstars or idols - let’s look at Bede’s theme, for example. While it really isn’t a bad theme (it’s actually, dare I say, a bop), I wouldn’t exactly say that the resulting pieces fit neatly together like they do for the Spikemuth duo. Bede’s theme requires a lot of synths to accentuate his more flamboyant and immature personality, but also holds ties with the rock guitars while also trying so desperately hard to sound like a Pokemon song. Now, I don’t think “Pop Synth Rock” is anything bad, per se; I just feel like the added rock elements didn’t do much to add to the musical representation of our cliche jerk-face “rival”. It feels like the rock elements were an after-thought rather than a planned layer of musicality. I could really say the same thing about Hop’s theme, but then I would have to re-listen to Hop’s theme because I always forget what it sounds like even after listening to it a second before.

A big problem is that not many of these themes hold lastingly memorable motifs/melodies, which is a personal pet-peeve of mine in games where the music is highly esteemed. In pretty much every battle theme (except the generic pokemon encounter theme, which is the same melody in every Pokemon game, only with variations added to fit the music theme of the region) is just an on-going strip of notes that sound nice when playing the game, but if you tried to pick out the specific melody-line of that character, it’s a bit of work to really find anything. Let’s look at a more concrete example: Lusamine’s battle theme from Pokemon: Sun and Moon is up on my list of most memorable battle themes, and will do well without the extra influence of young me’s nostalgia seeping in like it would with earlier generations’ battle themes. Lusamine, as we know, was the elite antagonist of the game, being the leader of this esteemed Pokemon protection group who later is revealed to be using Pokemon for her own demented goals of perfection. Almost immediately, the player hears the signature accents of the harpsichord playing the prime motif before the piece digs into a full orchestration. It doesn’t sacrifice anything for the sake of “sounding like a Pokemon song”, nor does it sacrifice anything for the sake of keeping with the musical inspiration. Instead, it focuses on being exactly what it needs to be - a musical representation of Lusamine, hosting orchestra-based instruments (piano, violas and cellos, horns, violins, light pad synths, etc…). Most anyone can pick out a handful of memorable motifs from her theme (the main horns melody line, the harpsichord melody line, the mid-section cello and piano melody line, etc…), and those remain in our unconscious. So, it’s no surprise that when she becomes the “Mother Beast” later on, when the player hears hints of those signature melody lines becoming distorted in the madness of the new battle theme, it invokes a particular emotion that fits elegantly with the subject matter of the plot right then. In short, it’s musical storytelling done right. In SWSH, we don’t have that extra omph of emotionally-nostalgic motifs; instead, we just get songs that play in the background of this video game, and that’s really it. If you don’t like the song, good news - you’ll probably only hear it once or twice, depending on who the NPC is. If you do, then you’re out of luck for the very same reasons. This game lacks a very basic hint of soul to its soundtrack, which is really such a jarring idea especially when you realize that they paired up with a composer who arguably has mastered the idea of musical motifs (Fox).

This really isn’t just SWSH’s problem, either. I also went through a similar heartbreak in S&M during the final stretch of the main game; after battling Lusamine and saving the region from the threat of Ultra Beasts (more or less, anyway), we the player go to challenge the champion, who is revealed to be Profession Kukui since there really is no true champion for the newly-made league. It’s hard to go from an exciting, powerful battle theme like Lusamine’s to some generic, cardboard-cut-out version of a champion battle theme for Kukui. It’s hard to invoke any sort of emotional appeal when there’s no real inspiration to be felt in the music; with no emotional connection, there is no emotion. It’s, once again, just music that plays in the background of a video game. A similar experience happens in SWSH with the player’s match against Champion Leon; though we have the potential to gain an emotional connection to a Leon Theme motif, we don’t get that. Instead, we just get music that is programmed to be exciting for our championship match that will undoubtedly change our lives forever. Bland, boring, anti-climatic - all for the sake of coloring in the lines. This has been an on-going problem in Pokemon games for years in which the Championship Battle Theme is less interesting than the Evil Team Battle Theme, which probably isn’t a good idea. It’s annoying when your villain has a better theme than the literal strongest trainer in the region - it ruins the chances of likability for the region’s “good guys” and overall is anti-climatic when it is finally time to become champion.

Overall, the ability to immerse someone like me in a game is very important when it comes to retaining players. While SWSH isn’t the worst Pokemon game when it comes to immersion (considering the fact that I actually beat the main game, which I can’t say for other main Pokemon titles…), Game Freak certainly could stand to learn from the game’s shortcomings.

Creature and Character Design...

The monster design is arguably one of the most controversial topics when it comes to any Pokemon game. Some people only care about the designs of Gen 1, others accept everything but Gen 5, and a select few could rant for hours on the stupidity of literally every Pokemon design in the franchise. Regardless, the design of the Pokemon native to the Galar region is an important topic of discussion when analysing the potential for enjoyment of the game. After all, I’m an artist who loves drawing all my favorite characters as well as my favorite Pokemon, so understanding the designs of these beloved figures is vital to understanding the game in general. For sanity’s sake, I’ll only be discussing new Pokemon introduced in this region, and will be ignoring all previous pokemon that aren’t regional variants.

Overall, the designs of the latest Pokemon are satisfactory. Because of my tendency to always suspend belief in fantasy works, I’ve very rarely had much to hate about Pokemon designs (not even in Gen 5, though I don’t particularly like any of them aside from the game cover legendaries). SWSH didn’t really bring much to the table when it comes to brand-new Pokemon, but the ones introduced are fitting and interesting: the Dragapult line, all three starters (even if I did laugh for literal hours at the discovery of Cinderace’s typing), Wooloo and Dubwool, Yamper and Boltund - just to name my top favorites. And I was totally invested in the designs of the game cover legendaries, Zamazenta and Zacian, since they held cultural relations with the region’s inspiration and therefore had actual meaning within the game besides just being cool mythical creatures. Nothing really outright bothered me with the designs or pokemon choices in this game; as I mentioned earlier, I was okay with the idea of no National Dex for this region, and that all the pokemon allowed in this game matched with the region well-enough.

But, of course, it’s not without faults. I found there to be a substantial lack of original legendaries in this game - we only have three real legendaries to catch in the main-game, four if you consider the DLC. We had a similar problem in Pokemon: Sun and Moon, but it was later amended with the introduction of Ultra Beasts (which can technically be regarded as legendary Pokemon, albeit from another dimension and not technically Pokemon). In SWSH, we are only given the option of catching more than two legendaries if we buy the DLC - this is remarkably disappointing for those who are interested in seeing new, unique Pokemon designs. I know many fans are constantly frustrated with Game Freak’s tendency to overuse Gen 1 Pokemon, but the fact that nobody is bothered by the running trend of being able to easily catch a bunch of previous games’ legendaries is beyond me. It’s essentially the same thing, overly relying on the fanbase’s sentimental nostalgia rather than moving forward to create new creature designs. I know for a fact that so many people would have been excited to catch Pokemon with cultural significance (maybe like elf Pokemon that resemble that of Seelie/Unseelie fairies, or more Pokemon that resemble chess pieces, or maybe more Pokemon that follow a theme of medieval artifacts - there are many possibilities), so the fact that they skimped out in favor of making people pay for nostalgia is ridiculous to me. This was a majority of the reason why I rejected buy any of the DLC content - why would I pay for Pokemon I’ve technically caught before? I mean, I guess it can be more for the kids who have never encountered the older legendaries, but then again, wouldn’t it be more beneficial for your game to have Pokemon that actually represent the new region? Instead of just stealing other games’ legendaries for the sake of saying that you have them, they could have just worked a little harder to design maybe three or six more cool legendary designs and centered those guys around the two DLC locations instead of just having Calyrex for The Crown Tundra. At the end of the day, it’s really just a cash-grab; the only reason I could ever see myself understandably buying the DLC for SWSH would be because I wanted to interact more with my favorite NPCs, but then again, I can just look at screenshots on Twitter and feel just as satisfied.

But not all is lost in terms of designs. Now let’s get into my favorite design portion of this segment and discuss the NPCs.

First, we’ll dig into the rivals. Personally, I really enjoyed the rivals of this game; while Pokemon is definitely running on a formula, I still was able to find enough about the three rival characters to genuinely enjoy their presence whenever they came on screen. I suppose we can expect to keep seeing this new Pokemon Trainer Rival Formula: Kind of Annoying but Too Sweet to Hate BFF Rival (Hop), 2 Edgy 5 U Rival (Bede), and Some Pedo’s Waifu Material Rival (Marnie).

Hop is arguably one of my favorite Pokemon rivals of all time (right up there with Gladion from S&M). He’s one of the only Pokemon characters to get a realistic character development over the course of the game’s playable story, which really humanizes him and makes up for his occasionally annoying personality. Over the course of the game, Hop goes from silently residing in his brother’s shadow to learning to stand on his own without needed any outside validation; much to my surprise, it’s not some half-hearted transition. Hop doubts himself during the challenge, as evidenced not just by his dialogue but in the way he actively changes his team to try and be more competitive like everybody else. I remember feeling so heartbroken in realization that Hop stopped using his beloved Wooloo, which is rightfully paired up with the excitable boy. The idea that Hop uses Wooloo, a normal-type cute Pokemon that generally wouldn’t be used in a competitive team, really adds more dimension to his character; when he learns to enjoy himself instead of letting his doubts overtake him, he returns to using Dubwool and his favorite team, demonstrating how he would prefer to have fun as himself than be someone he isn’t. I found that to be a really wholesome theme to his character, one that we haven’t really seen in a Pokemon game yet - it was a pleasant surprise! Hop is sweet and kind, always wanting to motivate the player even when he’s in his own internal turmoil. With all that added with his adorable babyface and goofy/awkward preteen disposition, he really makes for a likeable rival character.

The next rival to be introduced is none other than our classic Mean Boy rival, Bede. He’s a character the fanbase is a bit more accustomed to due to previous titles’ rivals (i.e. Green/Blue/Gary Oak from in R&G/B, Silver from SGC, technically also Gladion from S&M…), so are quite a few expectations placed on his character as a result. Also true to the typical Pokemon Jerk Rival, he has a complicated homelife (he comes from an orphanage, as we later learn) and has a similarly complicated parent-child relationship to the leading antagonist of the game (in this case, Chairman Rose). Bede constantly assumes himself to be better than he is and isn’t afraid to be a total prick about it, choosing to bully Hop upon winning battles against him to boost his own inflated ego (though there’s hints pointing to Bede actually having rather low self-esteem). All things considered, I liked Bede as a character about as much as one can like a mean rival archetype, but I was more than pleased to discover his transition to a more likably mean-spirited character when he later returns to the game to challenge the player after being disqualified from the challenge. While we’ve had a likeable mean rival before (namely Gladion), Bede is something of his own entity with how he actually has an attempt at character development that leads him to a mini-redemption near the end of the game. He’s really the first mean rival to have a transition from total jerk to slightly-peeved tsundere, which was probably a good idea on Game Freak’s part so that we wouldn’t be left with a character we downright hated after the way Bede quite literally destroys Hop’s confidence. It’s nowhere near as impressive as Hop’s character development (which isn’t super impressive to begin with, but let’s ignore that fact for a bit), but it’s still interesting to see in a monster-catching game about being the best you can be.

And then, of course, we get to the cute-girl rival, Marnie, also known as the place where I get a bit mad again. I’d like to say that I absolutely love Marnie; she has an adorable design and interesting personality that captures my attention whenever she has screen time. But she serves one purpose in this game, and one purpose alone - being the main cute girl rival of the game. Marnie has the potential to be a similarly interesting rival (cute design that meshes “punk” with “cute”, has a wholesome and fun dynamic with her gym leader older brother, uses a Pokemon that isn’t considered to be a “competitive” choice as her ace, has a cool/cute personality…), and yet we probably only talk to her about five times over the course of the main game. Little is done with her character - in fact, the only real thing she does in the game other than becoming the next dark-type gym leader is that she helps the player sneak into Spikemuth after the gates have been shut by the remarkably-harmless Team Yell. I don’t think I’m alone in saying that I would have loved to have seen more done with her character. With the boy rivals being more fleshed out than her, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth because the female rival is the one left with a blank personality (and I’m not just saying that because she hardly smiles - that’s really one of the only things we get about her that gives her an actual personality). My frustrations are further exacerbated because this has always been an issue in Pokemon games, in which the girl rivals are so barebones for seemingly the only purpose of serving as some neckbeard’s waifu that they can input a personality they desire despite the fact that she’s canonically a minor. Why put in the time to give dimension to Hop and Bede, but not Marnie? And we know for a fact that Game Freak has to recognize the lack of personality given to Marnie, especially since they had previously come out with Lillie’s wonderfully sweet character arch in S&M and USUM. Personally, I feel that it was because they didn’t feel like having a more punkish girl character who also had traditionally feminine-coded interests (she’s known to have been distracted during the gym challenge by the boutiques) and ultimately decided to just not give her any further personality other than that, perhaps fearing that it would dissuade the gross creeper fanbase from latching onto her. But that’s really just speculation, so don’t take any of my nonsense too seriously. Really, I’d just rather we had a girl rival with more personality to match the other two rivals so it wasn’t so annoyingly unbalanced.

Moving on from the rivals, we get into the designs of the League Staff of the game. In most other Pokemon games, I’d never really been too interested in the gym leaders; they had always been more of minor bosses, just faces that you saw for a couple of seconds before pummeling their ‘mons and moving to the next city. But in this game in particular, there was a sudden transition from simple puzzle master to a full-on celebrity figure. I really enjoyed this! It was so nice to actually have some information on the gym leaders other than what type they sported; suddenly, they have personalities and interests - they become real to the player. Not to mention that there really is a gym leader for everyone to enjoy, thanks to their unique personalities and styles.

I’ll be a bit honest and say that some of their clothing designs are remarkably stupid for even an anime-based RPG game (I mean, I know we joke about Leon’s terrible sense of fashion in the fanbase, but can we just pause and ponder what Piers’ wears? I mean, a leather jacket with spandex? Metal boots and a work-out tank??? What is he wearing?!), but it isn’t exactly distracting. In Western cultures in particular, we can see a trend towards the glamourization of the “athleisure” style, or athletic wear designed more for everyday use rather than just working out. It was kind of fitting to see this be the primary style for the gym leaders, who can basically be described as hierarchical sports stars. Weird? Sure. But in the context of the world, it all fits together, and once again adds to the immersion aspect of the game.

Looking at our main antagonists, they are designed quite well. Chairman Rose is designed to be quite easy and fun to hate (at least for me) - he’s an important-looking businessman who’s very impressed with himself, paired up with a beautiful yet terrifying subordinate woman who does most all the hardwork for him (...actually, they kind of remind me of an antagonistic Cl. Mustang and Lt. Hawkeye from Fullmetal Alchemist…). They also had noteworthy battle themes that popped a bit more than other battle themes in the game.

While they hardly count as antagonists, I’d like to also make a brief mention of Team Yell. They’re more annoying than anything, which is a trend that I’m not too sure how I feel about yet. It was definitely more likable coming from Team Skull, that’s for sure. I would have liked Team Yell doing a bit more damage, having them be a bit more unruly and controversial before evening them out with the whole emotional appeal of them cheering on for Marnie in hopes of saving their ruined town. But they weren’t too terrible in my opinion.

I could talk for hours on the champion of the region, too, Champion Leon. He’s a really fun and charming character overall, less of the supremely wise and powerful champion that we’ve seen in older gens and instead being a more quirky but worthwhile opponent on the path towards the crown. But I definitely preferred him more as a character than as a champion; even though his team changes depending on your starter, it’s not too challenging of a fight if you know what you’re doing, especially when you immediately know what his ace pokemon is (something we don’t really learn in other gens about the champions). While I’m sure the idea of a powerful but transparent champion can be done, Leon doesn’t really stand up as a powerful trainer when compared to other champions in the franchise. But he’s definitely still a fun, interesting character concept that I am grateful for in this particular game.

When it comes to the designs of the primary NPCs and Pokemon, SWSH continues to talk that line just above mediocrity. Not too bad, not all that great, but definitely not something to be forgotten. I’d reason that the primary strength of this generation lies within the characters that are introduced.

Uniqueness vs. Status as a Pokemon Game...

In regards to the uniqueness - how well this game stands on its own as an individual concept rather than just another Pokemon game - I’m a bit divided. On one hand, I’m a bit saddened by the watering down of content and constant reliance on concepts from older games. But I can also see that SWSH introduced a lot of interesting ideas that have inspired so many fans for this generation. And while yes, this gen didn’t have much to offer in terms of new Pokemon, new scenarios, or new lore, I do think that it does hold its own when compared to the other games in the main series. New characters are introduced to the player, all of which having good (and bad) traits that allow for lots of fan-created content with their essence; a new look into a brand-new battle enhancer that requires a different strategy than those of previous battle enhancers; a new culture found within the Galar region that can inspire many more thoughts and theories on the Pokemon world as a whole in a number of ways. We cannot pretend that SWSH isn’t an influential game just because it wasn’t ground-breaking; even with my extreme distaste for the Black and White games, I still admit that they led to important decisions and ideas that led to the creation of games I did enjoy. So, as its own entity, I think that Pokemon: Sword and Shield really has a lot of offer and would probably be an amazing game for a younger player who’s just getting into the Pokemon universe.

But I think that a lot of us long-time fans can agree that this game doesn’t quite match up with the others in terms of giving those real “Pokemon game” feelings. The problem with big-titles like this is that the company tends to lose sight of what really makes a franchise so influential isn’t the stuff found at face-value. It’s not the creatures or NPCs or game mechanics or design or any of that garbage - it’s the feelings we get when all of those things reach that perfect harmony. It’s the rumble in my chest whenever I listen to that famous intro-sequence of my old Pokemon: Ruby game; it’s the fire in my eyes when I went back to challenge Pokemon Trainer Red for the tenth time that night back in my old Pokemon: Heart Gold game; it’s the tears I cried when I watched the only interesting character, N, leave my playable character after his emotional spiel following the defeat of Ghetsis in my long-since abandoned copy of Pokemon: White. At the end of the day, Pokemon is more of an emotion I get rather than a game I play, and I think this is an idea that few people can recognize for themselves. And while I’m aware that I literally just spent several thousand words bagging and praising this game for all those face-value aspects, I also know that when you add that extra little bit of care to your work, go a little further with a character you know someone will adore, or try something new with that new battle theme, there comes a sensation that goes beyond that of love for a silly fantasy game. I’d like to think it’s something akin to inspiration.

Conclusion...

In conclusion, Pokemon: Sword and Shield is far from perfect. With a number of faults and disappointments, I can understand why a lot of fans were less than interested in giving this game the time of day. But I also want to say that this game deserves to be understood and appreciate for what it is, for what it’s done. Who knows what sort of new ideas this game has inspired? Whether it be in the name Pokemon game or someone else’s passion project, I am confident in the potential that this game has to bring someone’s dreams to fruition. It already has inspired so much amazing fan-content from the community; after so many years of being away from the fandom, SWSH was the game that drove me right back, giving me the drive to once again indulge in my middle-school days of sketching out my latest comfort character or writing out a million headcanons in a way-too plot-heavy story. Many fan-creators in this community feel the same as me, I’m sure, so it would be untrue of me to say that this game was anything less than what it was: a fun, simple game that prides itself in its characters and potential rather than complex combat mechanics or some corkboard-plot nightmare. It’s a game meant to be enjoyed, so we must remember to find our enjoyment wherever it can be found. For me, Pokemon can’t really do much wrong, but also is held up to a level of expectations that I can’t quite understand even for myself. This, at the end of the day, is a video game from my all-time favorite franchise; so long as I can find enjoyment there in it, then it’s worth it. In a world filled with nihilism and cynicism, it’s nice to visit a land where you’re wise to try and be the very best like no-one ever was, to be the next best Pokemon Master.

Long Distance

Requested: yes

Summary: Jake and you are in a long distance relationship. When visiting him in LA he asks you a question that might just change your life forever. 

Your Pov: 

“I miss you.” Jake said while on face time with me one night. 

“I know, I miss you too.” I said back to him while pouting slightly. “But hey, on the bright side your coming to visit me in two months.” 

He chuckled lightly. 

“That’s way too long.” 

“I know but at least it’s something to look forward too. You gotta think positive baby.” I told him trying to cheer him up. 

“This is why I love you.” Jake said while leaning in and kissing the camera jokingly. 

I laughed and did the same pretending it was him. We talked for another hour before I had to log off and go to bed since it was getting pretty late here in Indiana. 

“Alright baby, I’ll let you get some sleep. I love you and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Jake said while blowing a kiss my way. 

“I love you to babe. See ya.” I said back to him while throwing up a peace sign. 

Jake chuckled slightly and ended call. Once I knew I was fully hung up from him I texted Colby. Two months just wasn’t gonna cut it. I missed Jake so much. 

You: Hey, I wanna surprise Jake and come visit him early in LA . Do you think you could help me? 

Colby: Sure, I can help you. Jake’s been a mess without you haha. 

You: I know. He sounded so sad when we face timed tonight. I’m gonna book my flight tonight and I’ll just send you the information so you can pick me up at the airport and take me to his apartment. 

Colby: Sounds good. He’ll be so happy to see you he’s been acting crazier than usual. 

You: I know, I’ve seen from your guys videos. 

Colby and I continued to text back and forth for the next hour until I decided that I should probably get to bed so I wouldn’t be tired the next morning. 

You: I’m gonna head to bed. It’s getting pretty late over here. Goodnight I’ll talk to you sometime tomorrow. 

Colby: Goodnight:)

------------------------------TIME SKIP-------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been a couple of days since I last talked to Colby or Jake and during that time I’ve booked my flight and started to pack. I leave tonight so I’ve been trying to get everything ready. As I was loading my makeup in my bag my phone pinged signaling that I received a new message. 

Jake: Wanna face time? I haven’t seen your beautiful face in a couple of days. I miss you:(  

You: Sorry:(  I’ve been busy. I’m actually at a friends house rn. I’ll call you when I get home if it’s not late. 

I hated lying to him but I couldn’t ruin my surprise.

Jake: Okay:( Have fun and be safe. I love you ❤

You: I love you too❤

------------------------------ANOTHER TIME SKIP SORRY-----------------------------------

I was currently in an uber on the way to the airport. I was so excited to see Jake. Once I arrived to the airport I went through security and customs(have no clue how actual airports work lol) and was finally boarding my plane. While waiting in line I texted Colby. 

You: Hey, I’m about to board my plane rn. I should be there soon! 

Colby: awesome! Can’t wait, Jake's gonna be so excited to see you! 

You: He texted me earlier asking me to face time him. I lied and told him I was at a friends house lol. I want this surprise to be good.  

Colby: lmao. That’s why Jake was in bad mood when we hung out earlier. And don’t worry it’s gonna be good. He has no clue that your coming:)

You: haha. Gotta go flights about to board. See ya soon!

Colby: Have a safe flight! 

After Colby texted I put my phone in my pocket and headed into the plane. I found my seat and immediately sat down. My legs were killing me from waiting in that long line. Before we took off I put my air pods in and blasted some Billie Eilish and fell asleep. 

------------GUESS WHAT ANOTHER TIME SKIP LOL-------------------------------------

I have just gotten off of the plane and was standing in line to grab my luggage. Once I spotted the bright purple suitcase I grabbed it and started to head towards the exit of the airport where Colby was supposed to pick me up. 

Once I got outside I immediately spotted his red Toyota Corolla. Running up to the car I banged on the window hoping to scare him. 

“Jesus Y/N.” He said while rolling down the passenger side window with one hand and holding the other over his heart. 

“You almost gave me a heart attack!”  

“Sorry!” I yelled while laughing. 

He gave me a knowing look. 

“Yeah sure ya are.” 

After my mini prank on him I went around to trunk of car and waited for Colby to come and help me put my suitcase in. 

Once everything was situated we were off to give Jake the surprise of a lifetime. The car ride over to Jake’s apartment was filled Colby and catching up. He’s always been like another brother to me and he’s the reason that Jake and I met. 

Upon arriving to the apartment complex I could tell it was much nicer and cleaner than the trap house was.

“Wow,” I said while Colby and I walked up the stairs to Jake’s floor. “This place is cleaner than the last house.” 

He laughed. 

“It really is. The trap house was disgusting.” 

“That’s cause your the ones who made it that way!” I exclaimed. 

“Trueeee.” He said while dragging out the e. 

We continued our banter until Colby we reached floor 3. Once inside the hallway Colby lead me to Jake's apartment number which was conveniently right across from his. 

“Knock.” He said while pointing to the white door.

I nodded and brought my hand up. My knuckles hitting the hard wood. After a couple of agonizing minutes the door swung open and I was met with a pink hair colored Jake. 

“Surprise!” I shouted while throwing my arms around his neck. 

“Oh my gosh! What are you even doing here? How did you even get here?” Jake asked in confusion. 

“Remembered when we face timed a couple of nights ago? After we hung up I decided that I couldn’t wait any longer to see you so I texted Colby and him and I planned the whole thing out.” I explained to him while pulling away.

“Your amazing and I love you.” Jake told me while pulling me in for a kiss. 

“And that right there is my cue to go. Bye guys.” Colby said while heading towards his door. 

Jake and I pulled away laughing. 

“See ya Colby, thanks for helping me. “ I told him. 

“Yeah, see ya brother. Thanks for the surprise.”  

He nodded in welcome and closed his door. 

“Well, let’s go inside shall we? I’ve been wanting you to see my new place.” Jake said excitingly. 

“I cant wait!” I told him with a smile on my face. 

After Jake showed me around his new place we decided to just sit and cuddle on the couch since I was a little tired from my flight. We’ve been talking about anything and everything. 

“Can I ask you something?” Jake asked. 

“Well you technically just did ask me something but sure!” I said jokingly. 

He rolled his eyes. 

“Haha very funny. But I wanna ask you a serious question and it’s okay if you say no.” 

“Okay.” I said unsure of what his question could possibly be. 

“You like it here right?” 

I nodded. 

“Yes?” 

“What do you think about taking our relationship to the next step? Do you want to move in with me?” 

As soon as those words came out of his mouth my face broke out into a smile. 

“Yes! A hundred percent Yes! I don’t think I can do long distance anymore.” I all but yelled to him while attacking his face with kisses. 

Jake laughed. 

“Perfect. I for sure thought you were gonna say no babe.” He told me once I pulled away from his face. 

“Why would I say no? All my friends are over here and I get to see you everyday. Sounds like a win to me.” 

Jake broke out into a grin. 

“This is why I made you mine.” 

And with that he leaned into my lips sealing the deal and our promise of forever. 

Author's note: Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry about the ending lol I didn't know how to end it. Sorry about all the time skips also I just don’t know how to do transitions yet. I hope the person who requested this enjoys it! Also sorry for not posting this as soon as I got home. I was super tired and still had to write an essay for college that was due the next day lol. But it’s finally up! I will also be posting two or three imagines on Tuesday to make it up for you guys. Alsooo thank you guys so much for the love on “That’s just Brennen.” It means a lot to me and I didn’t think it would get as many likes as it did, hopefully this one does good too! Anyways that’s enough of me talking and I hope you enjoyed the imagine:)❤😘

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 45

read chapter one

read on ao3

Sitting at the desk in front of the room, Magnus studies his students. The room is silent save for a cough here or there, the scuffle of shoes, the jittery click of a pen in the top corner.

His mouth turns up as he hears the first flipping of the page. Taking an idle glance at the clock, he raises a brow. The final for this class was a Blue Book exam and it’s only been five minutes-- either someone really knew their shit or they were bullshitting so hard that he’d need a second red pen when it came time to grade.

Leaning back in his chair, Magnus’s focus turns back to his phone. Alec had been infuriatingly tight-lipped the past couple of weeks about work. Magnus knows that his boyfriend is getting closer and closer to finishing the album but no matter how much he pries-- or what he offers in exchange for a sneak peak-- Alec refuses to let Magnus listen to it.

He’s got to admit that he’s curious. After hearing the single back in September, he’d never said anything to Alec. It seems silly, especially after Florence, but he didn’t want to jinx anything. He didn’t want to be presumptuous only to have Alec give him that blank eyed stare that infuriates him, always accompanied by a slow blink that lets the recipient know exactly how foolish Alec thinks they are.

So, he’d kept his mouth shut but he can’t help but hope. It’s a little heady, the possibility that Alec’s written a song-- several songs, even-- about him. About them.

They’re chatting about plans for tonight and Magnus worries his bottom lip as he reads over Alec’s latest text.

I was thinking we could go out for dinner? I have reservations at Momofuku Ko tonight

Magnus stares down at his phone, mildly appalled.

Darling, that place is expensive hell. It’s a Tuesday night, no need to be so extravagant.

Didn’t you say you wanted to try it? What, I can’t do something nice for my boyfriend?

Fingers flying over his screen, Magnus replies, That was idle conversation, Alexander! Plus, don’t you need reservations at least a month in advance?

He doesn’t even have to wait a minute for Alec’s response.

I might have made them the day after you mentioned wanting to try it.

Rolling his eyes, Magnus’s exasperation is sorely tempered with fondness.

You’re too good to me, Alec

……. So you’re okay with going there for dinner?

Huffing out a laugh that has half his students glancing up at him before turning back to their exams, Magnus grins as he types, As long as you’re okay going dutch.

He actually laughs out loud as he reads Alec’s short reply a few seconds later.

Not a chance in hell, babe.

Shaking his head, Magnus pockets his phone as he looks up at the few dozen students furiously writing in their Blue Books.

Life has settled into a routine that’s mostly what it was before. It’s just that now he has Alec to come home to more often than not.

He still wakes up early and sometimes he lets Alec persuade him to join him at Fuel for an early morning workout. Magnus comes to work and loves what he does and sometimes Alec joins him for lunch.

His day ends and he goes back to the loft where he’ll spend a couple of hours grading or planning or writing-- though not his book, Thank Christ, that’s off to the printer now-- before he meets Alec for a date.

Most nights they spend together and while they alternate between places, it’s usually Alec who comes over to the loft lately.

Magnus doesn’t quite understand it-- Alec’s penthouse is what dreams are made of-- but it’s nice to see Alec so comfortable in his space, among his things.

As his thoughts turn unforgivably sappy, Magnus figures he’s entitled.

It’s his birthday, after all.

Not that he’s told Alec that, of course. Magnus doesn’t know why he hasn’t told his boyfriend that his birthday was coming up, but it had just never seemed the right time.

In any case, he’s not too fond of the day anyway. For the past decade, it’s been little more than a reminder of a childhood he’d tried his damnedest to forget. Until his father was sent to jail, his birthday had always been a big, blowout affair. He’d always had birthday parties and cake and almost too many presents to handle.

His father always took the day off and he let Magnus skip school and they’d spend the day together doing whatever Magnus wanted. When he was very little, there had been mini-golfing and arcades and the zoo. As he’d gotten older, Asmodeus had taken him to the movies, to get his first piercing, and on his sixteenth birthday-- just a few months before his life imploded-- he’d been surprised with a trip to the dealer. Asmodeus had gifted him a brand new Mercedes SUV.

Damn but he’d loved that car, until it had been repossessed at any rate.

No, Magnus reflects. After everything had happened and his father had been sentenced, Magnus had spent a few years flat out not acknowledging his birthday. His foster families hadn’t cared, that was for damned sure, and Magnus hadn’t been close enough with anyone to celebrate.

For a few years, there hadn’t been anything to celebrate, not to him.

But then he’d gone to Yale and had been surprised as hell when Ragnor and Cat had casually left him presents one morning. He still doesn’t know how they figured it out but it had touched him far more than a paperback and an eight dollar bottle of wine should have. They had never made a thing out of it and for that, Magnus was exceedingly grateful.

Still, that doesn’t help matters much now. Magnus feels a little guilty for keeping something so innocuous from Alec, especially after he’d gone to such lengths for his birthday in September, but with a little shrug, Magnus idly thinks about taking Alec out for ice cream after dinner tonight and telling him.

Breaking out of his thoughts, Magnus smiles at the student standing in front of the desk. He’s expecting a question but doesn't say anything when the student merely tosses their exam on the desk between them and turns to leave without a word.

Amused, Magnus looks at the clock and sees that it’s only been half an hour. This exam block was three hours and this class in particular was an upperclass elective on the History of Modern India. Magnus had created the exam and by his estimate, it should take at least an hour and a half.

There are three sections: term identification where there are twenty definitions and students must choose ten to discuss-- people, places, events that were significant to the semester’s content. Then there are the mini-essays where students pick three out of five significant eras and explain why they were so impactful. Finally, they have to pick one out of two essay topics and write an analytical essay that should be comprehensive of the entire semester’s lectures.

The fact that it took this student half an hour makes Magnus wary to say the least.

Shrugging a little, Magnus takes out a few papers from his senior seminar class and starts grading. He’s here for the next two and a half hours so he might as well get some work done. Winter graduation was Saturday and he needs to have grades in for all seniors by Thursday at noon. He has a dozen thirty to forty page theses to grade, in addition to any exams from his other classes. The next few days are going to be round the clock grading and Magnus wryly thinks that finals week isn’t just for the students.

The time goes by quickly and Magnus manages to grade three of the term papers as students slowly turn in their Blue Books and leave, eager to study for their next exam or just collapse in their dorms and relish the end of another semester.

Looking up, Magnus sees that there’s just one student left and she’s on her second Blue Book. Knowing that she has a propensity to take her time and write for ages on each question, Magnus focuses back on grading, marking something in the margin to look up later.

The student takes almost the entire three hours to finish her exam and Magnus sympathizes as he puts his papers in his briefcase to return to later. Shaking out her hand, she places the exam on top of the pile.

“How’d it go,” Magnus asks, capping his pen.

Shrugging a little, Jasmine smiles. “I hope it went well but I guess I’ll just have to wait and see when you enter the grade in Blackboard.”

“Was this your last exam or are you finally free?”

Laughing, Jasmine tosses her hair back as she adjusts her backpack. “You were my last final. I’ve officially done everything I need to for graduation. Now all that’s left is to walk across that stage this weekend.”

Smiling warmly, Magnus reaches for the stack of exams. “I hope Saturday is everything you’ve been hoping for-- graduation is a big deal and you’ve worked hard to get here. What are your plans?”

“I’ve actually been accepted to Cambridge’s graduate program for literature.”

Raising a brow, Magnus offers, “I’m sure Ragnor was thrilled to hear that.”

“Yeah,” Jasmine laughs. “He wrote one of my letters of recommendation. I’m not sure what he said but when I had my interview, they mentioned how effusive Dr. Fell had been.”

“Well, rest assured that Ragnor would only write what he believed. If you’re as good a student in his classes as you are in mine, then that praise was definitely deserved. Congratulations dear and best wishes for the future.”

Grinning, Jasmine gives a silly little salute. “Thanks, Dr. Bane. You’re one of my favorite professors here and I’m glad that I got to take this last class with you before I graduated.”

“Thank you, Jasmine. If you ever need another reference or letter please don’t hesitate to reach out,” he offers and sits back as she turns and exits the room, leaving Magnus alone with his thoughts.

She’d been a great student and a joy to have in class over the past few years. It’s always bittersweet when a student that’s earned Magnus’s respect and fondness leaves for greener pastures but there’s always another one waiting to take their place. Magnus has known and liked dozens of students over the years and some still occasionally email him, updating him on their life and career.

Filing the exams away, Magnus stands. Reaching for his coat, he shrugs it on before swinging his bag on his shoulder. The next exam block is in half an hour and as he exits the room, he sees half a dozen students loitering in the silent hallway, eagerly reviewing notes in a last ditch effort.

It’s cold outside, snow just beginning to lightly fall. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and sidesteps away from the main path as he reaches for it. He reads Alec's confirmation of the time for dinner and sees that he has a few hours before they’re to meet at his place.

Walking across campus, the sky is a murky steel gray. Winter has come and with it perennial twilight even though it’s only four in the afternoon.

He finds Ragnor in his office and as he takes off his coat and hangs it up, Magnus sees the cupcake sitting on the desk in front of his usual chair. Arching a brow, Magnus slowly nears the desk.

Ragnor doesn’t look up as he waves a hand between the cupcake and where he’s standing. “It was buy one get one free and you know I like a good deal.”

“I know you’re appallingly thrifty if that’s what you mean,” Magnus retorts as he sits.

Picking the cupcake up, Magnus starts peeling the wax paper away. “Thank you, dear.”

Ruffling the magazine he’s seemingly engrossed in, Ragnor just mutters, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Magnus laughs a little, shaking his head as he takes the first bite of the dessert, smiling as he realizes it’s his favorite-- orange cranberry.

Neither one mentions the plastic umbrella in the middle of it, declaring Happy 30th Birthday in colorful, cheerful script. Magnus can just picture it now, his best friend’s long suffering sigh that had accompanied the purchase.

The two of them chat for a little while, talking about syllabi for next semester and plans for the holidays. It’s hard to believe that it’s already December, yet another term under their belts.

Eventually, afternoon gives way to early evening and they leave campus, each going their separate ways. Burying his nose a little deeper into his scarf, Magnus rounds the corner and grins as he looks up and sees a figure walking towards him that he’d recognize anywhere.

Alec places a quick kiss on his forehead and Magnus hears him mutter under his breath, “It’s the only place not covered.”

Unlooping his scarf in the elevator, Magnus pulls him close. He places a kiss under his jaw before moving to his mouth. “Hello, darling,” he murmurs as they pull apart.

“Hey, you,” Alec replies easily and follows him into the loft.

Magnus changes while Alec falls onto the couch, immediately taking out his phone.

“Important business,” he calls out as he walks toward the bedroom.

“Not really,” is Alec’s answer and Magnus enters his closet, running a hand over a dozen blazers, trying to decide on what to wear tonight. He glances over at the end of the closet where a few of Alec’s things are hung. It makes him smile every time he sees the few outfits hanging next to his own clothes and he grins as he looks back at his section, refocusing.

“Is there a dress code,” he yells and hopes Alec can hear him from the living room. He hears a muffled no but he still decides to dress up a little, opting for a crimson button up that he leaves mostly undone, tucking them into black slim cut pants.

Heading towards his vanity, Magnus grabs a makeup wipe, taking off the bit of eyeliner he’d put on that morning. He works on his eyeshadow-- a shimmery gold-- and relines his eyes, opting for something a little more dramatic than he’d worn to work. Dusting highlighter over his cheeks, his hands hover over his jewelry, considering a dozen choices before reaching for the necklace Alec had bought him a few months ago. The pendant rests against his chest, perfectly framed.

Biting his lip, thinking, Magnus reaches for another piece that he hasn’t worn for awhile, slipping it in as he looks at the open door.

Ready, he gives himself a final once over before stepping into a pair of chelsea boots.

When he walks into the living room, Alec’s frowning, rolling his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

Eyes darting up to meet his, Alec hastily shoves his phone into his back pocket, lifting his hips to do so. “Yeah,” he answers. “Just my label being a pain in my ass.”

“So nothing new,” Magnus laughs quietly.

“Nope,” Alec replies, standing up. His eyes darken as he sees Magnus’s outfit.

Magnus stays where he is as Alec comes closer, as he wraps arms around his middle before ducking close and nosing along his throat. “I like this outfit,” Alec whispers.

“Thank you, darling.”

Smile widening, Magnus steadies them both as Alec pulls back to look at his face. “Ready for dinner?”

Nodding, they throw their coats back on and this time it’s Alec who’s leading them downstairs to where a car’s waiting.

Settling in the backseat, Magnus looks out his window as they pull away from the curb, letting his hand rest on Alec’s thigh.

“Have you been to Momofuku Ko before?”

“No,” Alec answers, letting his leg lean against Magnus’s a little more. “I didn’t even know about it until you mentioned seeing a review in the New Yorker.”

Turning his head to look at his boyfriend, Magnus smiles. “Well, then, thank you for making reservations. I hope you like it.”

“It’s, like, fifteen courses, babe. I’m sure I’ll love it. If not we’ll just swing by McDonald’s on the way home.”

Magnus is already looking away when Alec finishes his sentence. Watching the street outside, he does his best not to react. Alec had just just called the loft home. The word wraps around Magnus, warm and happy, and he bites back a grin. It’s silent in the car and Magnus resolutely doesn’t acknowledge Alec’s slip and Alec doesn’t say anything either.

There’s a tension to the silence, like Alec’s waiting for a reprimand, a sharp rebuttal, but Magnus is damned if he’ll give him one.

He does sweep his hand over Alec’s thigh, though, and breathes a little easier when Alec flips his hand over to that he can interlace their fingers.

They stay like that until they get to the restaurant. It’s a small place, only enough seating for a dozen people, and they’re shown to their sets right away.

The next few hours are easy and Magnus enjoys himself immensely. Each course is fantastic with fresh, inventive ingredients and the drinks just keep on coming. He’s pleasantly buzzed by the end of the meal.

The light is low in the restaurant and as he looks over at Alec, his heart squeezes a little painfully in his chest. He’s thirty years old and sharing a wonderful meal-- a lovely night-- with someone he loves.

It’s more than he had last year and more than he figured he’d have this year.

He’s so focused on Alec-- on the way his boyfriend grins over at him before he takes a long drink of wine, the way his hair is a little messy so that his fingers itch to bury themselves in the dark locks, at how thoughtful Alec was to treat him to a dinner he’d wanted to try for ages-- that he doesn’t immediately notice the waiter standing at his side.

When he does, Magnus looks up only to do a double take.

Confusion gives way almost immediately to understanding as a small cake with a lone candle is placed in front of him.

The waiter acknowledges Magnus’s thanks and leaves without another word, leaving Alec and Magnus alone.

Magnus’s gaze is torn between the cake and Alec who’s smiling softly over at him.

“How did you know,” he asks, clearing his throat.

Shrugging, Alec merely offers, “When you found out about my birthday but didn’t tell me yours, I asked Cat. I didn’t want to accidentally miss it. I figured that since you didn’t tell me, you might not want a big deal made so I thought dinner would be a good compromise between too much and at least doing something.”

Reaching over the table, Magnus cups Alec’s cheek, bringing him close for a lingering kiss. “Thank you, Alexander.”

“Happy birthday, Magnus,” is the equally quiet reply and Magnus leans back in his seat as he looks at the cute little cake.

He closes his eyes and for the first time in over ten years, he makes a wish.

When he opens them a few seconds later, it’s to see Alec hastily lowering his phone.

Laughing, Magnus chastises him. “Really,” he asks wryly.

Unrepentant, Alec just says, “It’s your birthday. I’m entitled.”

“You’re entitled--” Magnus starts, mockingly indignant and he feels Alec’s foot nudge his own.

“Eat your cake, babe.”

The first bite is delicious and Magnus hums a little. It’s dark chocolate with a raspberry coulis and he eats almost half before he gives in to Alec’s pleading looks.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says brightly. “Did you want a taste, darling?”

He feels heat slink up his spine at the look Alec gives him. “Yeah,” he hears him say and then Alec’s reaching over the table and pulling him close. He kisses him, licking into his mouth, sucking the chocolate off his goddamn tongue.

Magnus might make a noise, he’s not entirely sure, and he brings his free hand up to rest against Alec’s chest, stroking upward until he can curl his fingers into the hair at his nape, pulling him imperceptibly closer.

Alec takes his time, not in any rush to pull away and when he does Magnus whines faintly in protest.

He’s sufficiently distracted and he doesn’t react right away when Alec grabs the spoon from his limp hand and takes a frankly appallingly large bite from his cake.

“This is so good,” Alec mutters and Magnus just stares at him.

“Alexander.”

Alec hums a little as he reaches over and Magnus gives up, pushing the plate towards his boyfriend.

“Don’t you think it’s time we asked for the check.”

With a grin that’s a little too cheeky, Alec looks up from his dessert. “Why,” he asks idly. “Have you got something to do?”

Magnus just sends him an arch look and Alec laughs before getting the waiter’s attention.

Once the bill’s paid, they walk out, holding hands. Alec pulls him close to his side, arm over his shoulders, and Magnus turns his head so that he can kiss the sliver of his wrist that’s exposed to the chilly air.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a present,” Alec says, apropos of nothing. “Everything’s been so hectic that--”

Magnus stops him, raising a finger until it hovers over his mouth. “Please, don’t worry about getting me a present. This dinner was more than enough. You’re more than enough on a daily basis, darling.”

“Still,” Alec says, apologetic. “Nothing seemed quite right and I’ve just been so busy--”

Stopping by the car, Magnus pulls him close, cutting him off with a kiss that lingers far too long in the street. When he pulls back, Magnus is pleased to see that Alec doesn’t look capable of arguing with him any longer.

The drive home goes by quickly. Magnus is a little preoccupied as Alec leans into him, spending the ride paying special attention to his neck until Magnus can’t see straight, leaning against his side, head tilted up so that moonlight spills over his face.

The two of them make it to the loft eventually and Alec leads them to the bedroom. Magnus relaxes into red sheets as Alec takes his time undressing him. The whisper of clothing being removed the only sound in the room.

Alec kisses down his chest as he unbuttons the rest of his shirt and when he stops suddenly, it takes Magnus a moment to figure out what must’ve grabbed his attention.

“Like it,” he asks with a lazy grin, widening the space between his legs to make more room for his boyfriend.

“Fuck,” Alec breathes and then Magnus feels Alec continue his path, kissing down his stomach, nibbling across a jutting hipbone before he closes gentle teeth over the piercing at his navel, giving it a slight tug.

Magnus groans, fisting a hand in Alec’s hair, urging him closer, as he lets his hips roll up to where Alec’s stupidly close but still too far away.

Unbuckling his belt, Alec helps Magnus tug off his pants along with his underwear and then Magnus is naked with Alec still fully clothed over him.

He feels the scratch of stubble over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and he shivers a little as Alec bites down on the muscle there.

He pulls away for a moment and Magnus hears a drawer sliding open before Alec tosses lube and a condom on the bed.

Alec leans close and Magnus wraps a leg over his as they kiss. It’s strange to be so exposed while Alec hasn’t taken anything off but it feels so damned good. When Alec pulls back and urges him to his stomach, Magnus can’t stop the little grin comes over his face.

Wiggling his hips a little, finally getting some friction, Magnus’s breath catches as he hears Alec finally taking his clothes off.

And then there’s a long line of heat over him, pressing Magnus into the mattress. Closing his mouth on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, Alec lets his hands wander down to his ass. Magnus has no idea when Alec managed to coat his fingers with the lube but a slick finger eases inside and Magnus’s hips arch up to Alec as his boyfriend starts opening him with slow, incredibly thorough fingers.

A broken moan spills out of Magnus as Alec pulls his three fingers out, what seems like ages later. Everything’s gone a little hazy at the edges and Magnus rolls his hips up, trying to encourage Alec to keep going as he feels his building orgasm creep out of reach.

“C’mon, darling. You know it’s not fun to tease,” he mutters into his pillow, sagging into the bed when Alec, the sadist, does nothing but laugh.

Magnus tenses up a moment later, though, when he feels Alec’s breath ghost over the small of his back. “But it’s so much fun to tease you,” he replies with a quick nip on his ass.

Alec spreads him, exposing him to cool air and Magnus groans, something low and utterly desperate. “Oh God, Alec.”

He feels the rough pad of a thumb over his hole before Alec’s asking, “This okay?”

“More than,” Magnus gasps, answering almost before Alec’s finished talking. “Please.”

Without wasting any more time, Alec licks across the tight ring of muscle and Magnus swears he goes half blind at the first stroke of his tongue. Alec doesn’t seem in any particular hurry as he eats Magnus out and if Magnus had it in him to care, he’d probably try to tamp down on the noises that wrench out of him as Alec works his tongue into his ass, as he hears the little hungry sounds that escape his boyfriend as he closes his mouth over Magnus’s hole and sucks, as Magnus hears what must be the sounds of Alec working his own cock over, hips rolling into his fist.

Almost without warning, Magnus tips over the edge, hot and sudden. Alec licks him through it, easing up until Magnus collapses into the bed, feeling remarkably like jelly.

Alec kisses a trail up his back, nudging his legs wider apart, and Magnus feels the blunt head of his cock over his sensitive hole. A full body shudder wracks Magnus and his hips jerk up. He moans at the pressure and Alec’s teeth close over his shoulder as he guides himself in, working into Magnus inch by inch.

Sparks shoot up his spine and Magnus gasps a little as he squeezes around Alec’s cock, enjoying the feeling of being so fucking full.

Urging him onto his knees, Alec grips his hips as he pulls back slowly, almost until he’s out, before thrusting back in, in one smooth stroke.

Bracing his hands on the mattress, Magnus meets Alec’s thrusts and before he quite knows it, his second orgasm is hovering at the edges.

Alec drapes himself over his back and Magnus hears his sharp breaths in his ear as Alec hoarsely mutters, “So good, you’re so good. Shit, babe, it’s like you were made for me. Made to take my cock, made to love me.”

“Yes,” Magnus breathes. “Fuck yes, Alexander. I love you so much darling.”

Alec reaches around, wrapping a hand around his cock, moving over him in perfect counterpoint to his thrusts. Magnus comes for a second time as his rhythm falters and then he feels Alec tense against him before he’s groaning long and low in his ear as he comes too.

It takes them awhile to get their breath and distantly Magnus wonders if he’ll ever be able to stand again.

Eventually, though, they do get out of bed. Taking a quick shower before climbing into pajamas and settling on the couch, Magnus turns the tv on to an old movie as they relax in the living room.

Alec’s a comforting weight on top of him and Magnus runs absent fingers through his hair as they watch tv. All around, this is one of the best birthdays he can remember and he knows he owes it all to Alec.

Alec takes out his phone before Magnus hears him scoff.

Stilling his fingers, he asks, “Something wrong?”

“Isabelle just texted me that she’s staying over at Maia’s tonight. Honestly,” Alec continues, “Jace has moved in with Clary and now Isabelle all but told me she’d be moving in with Maia soon.”

“What,” Magnus asks. “Maia and Isabelle are moving in together?”

Lifting up from him a little, Alec leans over him so that he can look at him properly. “Yeah? She told me last week that they’ve been looking up apartments together.”

Magnus’s mind goes into overtime as he considers what Alec’s just told him. He can’t quiet the thought that persists, though, knocking on his head a little too insistently.

“So,” he starts. “It’s just you now? That penthouse must feel pretty empty these days,” he teases.

Alec laughs a little, relaxing until he can brush his nose against Magnus’s throat. “Yeah, you could say that. We’ve lived together so long that it’s definitely going to be an adjustment not to have them there any longer. But they’re both happy and I’m happy for them. It’s definitely for the best.”

It’s quiet for a little while after that. Alec’s presumably focused on the tv, drawing little patters on Magnus’s side with a wandering hand, but Magnus can’t help but think about possibilities.

“Hey, Alec,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I think I know what I want for my birthday.”

Straightening, Alec doesn’t stop moving until they’re sitting, facing each other.

“Yeah? Anything,” he promises, grinning.

Clearing his throat, Magnus reaches for Alec’s hand, sweeping a thumb over his knuckles in a little anxious gesture that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing.

“Well, it occurs to me that it might be lonely at your place now that your siblings are moving out. It also occurs to me that we spend almost every night together. If you put those two things together plus the fact that I’m hopelessly in love with you and I hope the conclusion--”

“Is perfect,” Alec says, eyes crinkling at the corners since he’s smiling so big.

“Yeah,” Magnus asks, gaze searching Alec’s. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to or like I’m expecting anything. It’s an offer, nothing more.”

“Magnus, are you kidding me? I love you and you’re right-- for the past few months, I’ve been here more than I’ve been to my own apartment.”

Magnus lets hope catch in his chest as he smiles a little, just a gentle curve of his mouth. “I don’t want you to feel like you’d be giving up anything. I know you love your penthouse and it’s so much nicer than my place. If you wanted to--”

This time Alec pulls him closer for searing kiss that makes his toes curl against the carpet. Magnus’s breathing is a little unsteady when they break apart a few moments later.

Resting his forehead against Magnus’s, Alec speaks in the space between their lips. “I’d love to move in with you, babe. While I like my apartment, it’s just a place. Especially now that Jace and Iz won’t be there, it doesn’t really hold anything important. Here, though? This is a home.”

“Our home,” Magnus whispers, looking up to meet Alec’s eyes. “If you want.”

“I love you, Magnus. I can’t think of anything I’d love more than moving in together. As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Magnus says, no hesitation. He laughs a little, nosing along Alec’s wrist. “Half your shit’s already here anyway.”

Alec laughs too before he leans forward. Magnus lets himself fall back on the couch. They spend the rest of the evening talking about plans and Magnus can’t remember ever feeling so sure of a decision.

Magnus reaches out, frowning when his hand hits something. Blinking open bleary eyes, he lifts up to an elbow looking at where Alec should be.

Instead, he finds a note taped to something. Sighing a little, Magnus sits up and reaches for whatever it is.

Pulling the note from where it’s taped to what Magnus now sees is a CD in a plain, clear case, he reads the note.

Magnus,

Happy birthday. Did you really think I didn’t get you anything?

P.S. You’re the only person outside of the production team that’s heard this. Management tried their damnedest to talk me out of this but I want you to have first access. You deserve to know the truth and know that I mean every word.

P.P.S. I love you, so much. I hope these songs remind you of that every time you listen to them.

--Alec

Suddenly wide awake, Magnus picks up the innocuous cd. He turns it over but the only thing that’s scrawled on the cover is Album 7-- Feel Something.

He throws the covers off and spends ten minutes running around his apartment looking for a goddamned cd player before he remembers that it’s 2018 and he hasn’t had one of those in a damn decade.

Remembering his laptop, Magnus hurries to his study, wearing just his boxers, as he slides the cd in.

Almost immediately the first song starts playing-- he's a little surprised to see that there are nineteen tracks in all-- and Magnus lets the notes drift over him, turning the volume up to its maximum.

He sits in his chair, closing his eyes as Alec’s voice comes through the speakers. It’s presumably the title track, the single he’d heard back in September. It’s familiar and it makes him smile, emotion clinging to him now that he has irrevocable knowledge that this song was about them.

It wraps around his heart. It fills him with love and he wonders how the hell he got so lucky.

There are songs that make him a little hot under his collar like Black Magic and Crazy in Love and I’ve Never Loved This Hard This Fast Before. There are a few songs that make Magnus wonder at the Alec whose on tour like Better Man and Life of the Party and The Way I Am. He makes them both a silent promise that he won’t let tour come between them whenever the time comes.

There’s a song or two that makes tears threaten to well up like Worship or I Like Me Better or Wanna Be Missed.

He listens to the album once through and then another. He lets the music sink into him and he knows he’s smiling too much, a stupid grin on his face, but he can’t help it.

Most of him that can’t believe that Alec trusted him enough to give him unfettered access to his album. He can’t believe Alec bared his heart to him. Magnus knows Alec’s music is so incredibly personal to him and he doesn’t take this privilege for granted.

God, he loves this man.

After listening through it twice, Magnus puts it on shuffle as he leaves his study. He goes back to the bedroom and picks up his phone from where it’d been charging overnight.

Unlocking it, he swipes over Alec’s contact information and brings it up to his ear. It only rings twice before he hears Alec’s voice, warm in his ear.

“So? What’s the verdict?”

Laughing, Magnus wanders over to his window, idly watching the people down below.

“You have to know I loved it, Alexander. Thank you,” he says quietly. “I never expected you to let me have early access to the album.”

“It’s only fair since the whole damned thing is about you,” Alec replies wryly. There’s a beat of silence before he tentatively asks, “It’s okay? It’s not too much?”

Shaking his head even though Alec can’t see him, Magnus’s answer is honest as he says, “It’s perfect.”

Alec laughs a little. “Even track 8?”

Narrowing his eyes a little, Magnus goes back to his office, moving his mouse hurriedly to wake the screen up as he scans the track list. When he realizes what song Alec’s talking about, he barks out a laugh.

“Don’t get me wrong, it is explicit,” Magnus eventually says. His voice is low as he adds, “But by all means, darling, if that’s how I make you feel.”

Alec clears his throat. “Every word,” he murmurs.

Running a hand through his hair, Magnus tugs on the strands a little, trying to clear his head.

Conversation drifts to other things after a few more minutes, though Magnus knows that they’ll be talking about this tonight. He has a hundred and one questions he wants to ask-- when did Alec start writing about him? How is it possible that he can make Alec Lightwood feel so much?-- but he wants to do it in person.

Hanging up after their routine I Love Yous, Magnus heads to the shower.

Work stops for no man, no matter how much he might just want to sit and listen to his boyfriend’s album that’s all about him. Magnus spends most of the day on cloud nine as he works through papers and exams and entering grades online, all the while thinking about how to show Alec just how appreciative he is of his artistic talents.

For some reason, he thinks with a smile, grading isn’t quite as tedious as it usually is, not when he has Alec in his ears and in his head.

Dreams Do Come True - Soulmate!au

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Soulmate!au, fluff

Words: 2.1k+

Warnings: none

Notes: Italicised = dreams :)

[flashback]You saw him again. You saw the person you were destined to be with for eternity in your dreams. Ever since you knew what a soulmate was you were fascinated by them. You had started seeing him in your dreams when you were 5. He had appeared in your dreams, it seemed so real to you. You were laying in a meadow field when you noticed a boy your age come up to you and offer you his hand to help you up. Your hand went up to meet with his, and when they touched you felt a shock go through your entire body.

At first you were scared so you woke yourself up and went to your parents’ room and told them what had happened, after your parents had calmed you down you listened to what they were saying, “Everyone has someone they are destined to be with, and everyone has a different system, me and your father have the emotional system, I can sense his feelings and he can sense mine. It looks like you have the dream system. You can see and talk to your soulmate through your dreams.” You stared at her wide-eyed.

Ever since then all you wanted to do is find your soulmate.

It's been 19 years since that conversation with your parents happened and you talk in every dream that you share with each other. You learned a lot about him in those 19 years. He told you he was in a band but he didn't tell you which one, it didn't take you long to figure out he was apart of the Bangtang Boys, all you had to do was search up his name and there he was. His pictures were stunning, you really couldn't wait to meet him.

[dream] there he was, wearing all white, sitting on the sand with the ocean just barely touching the tips of his feet as he stared off into the setting sun. You slowly approach him, careful not to startle him. “Hi” he looks up and his eyes meet with yours for what feels like the umpteenth time, he smiles at you, “Hi to you too, did you have a good day?” You take a seat on the soft sand next to him and respond to him, “Yes, I did, did you?” you question back. “It’s better now that you're here.” You blush at his words, he always knows how to make your cheeks heat up. Subconsciously you look away, afraid he's going to laugh at your red cheeks that resemble a tomato. “Hey, hey no, I like it when you blush, you look so adorable. Please always look at me when you blush.” he reaches out and gently touches your chin to turn your head. “Okay, I promise I will.” You respond and he held up his pinky finger and encourages you to wrap your pinky finger around his. You smile at his antics but do it anyway. You were about to speak when you hear a beeping in the distance, it's your alarm clock signaling you to wake up. You sigh heavily knowing you have to leave. “So soon?” he asked with a pout. “Sorry Yoongi, we’ll meet again soon.” You held onto his hand and he watched as you softly disappeared into thin air and was now alone with his thoughts.

You groaned as you slammed your hand onto your phone to stop the cursed noise erupting from the object lying to your right. Another dream well spent with your love, you remember how he told you to look at him while you blush and you already feel your cheeks heat up at the thought. You unwillingly get up from your bed, only wanting to stay and dream, but you have to make money somehow. You worked at a quaint bookstore that barely got any customers so it was usually always quiet and you didn't really have to do anything other than putting books back onto shelves and helping a local find a book that was right in front of them. You would always hang out in the music section though, you found it quiet and calming. It was filled with old records no one bothered to look at but you loved them. After finishing getting ready, you only had a few minutes left to leave your house before you would be late. So you decided to just grab a granola bar and rush out the door making your way to work. It was only a couple of blocks down from your house so you usually walk there.

Once you had arrived you said greeted your best friend who also worked there, Mina. “Hey, Mina! How is everything?” She looked up from her 4th book this week, and it was only Tuesday and smiled at you. “Hey y/n! Everything is as it should be, nothing has changed so far, although I think Yuna might have the flu, how about you?” Yuna was Mina’s soulmate, Mina had found her when she went to go buy some Advil for you because you had just run out and were on your monthly, and Yuna was there getting some more toothpaste after Yeona had put them all in oreos for a prank she pulled on Soomi. You smiled back at her and answered, “Send her my hopes that she’ll get better! And not much same old, same old. Although I'm getting really impatient, I want to meet him already.” You haven't told her exactly who your soulmate was because, well, he's Min Yoongi. “Awe don’t worry y/n you’ll find him soon.” You looked at her and muttered an “I hope” before walking away to the music section.

After 7 hours of sitting around, helping out customers here and there, you finally clocked out and left to go back home. You had to be back home by 5 in order to catch your favorite drama at the moment. You basically ran to your home because you had clocked out later than usual.

Once you entered your apartment you immediately turned on your tv and saw that your show had just started. You breathed out a sigh of relief and thought to yourself, thank god, I can not miss an episode. During a commercial break, you decide to go into your kitchen and get yourself something to eat considering you haven't eaten anything this morning except a granola bar and some chips that Mina shared with you during your break. Once you have your food in your hand you go back to the living room and plop down on the couch, the commercial break was about to end, so you consider yourself lucky.

Your tv show had just ended and man, were you tired. This entire day was filled with you putting books back onto the shelf and helping people find the book that they were looking for, people asking you to search on the computer if the store had a book or CD in stock and then being annoyed when you said that you didn't. But you couldn't really help that, it wasn't like you controlled what was in stock and what wasn't. With all of these thoughts running through your head, you barely noticed yourself drifting off to sleep.

You were in front of a cafe but no one else was around. No cars, no people on the sidewalk. Silence. You looked into the cafe that was in front of you and pulled open the door to be met with Yoongi’s back towards you, he was sitting in a chair on his phone with his earbuds in. You just knew what you had to do. Walking a bit forward you cover his eyes with your hands, you can feel his smile. “Hi y/n,” he says softly before turning around in his seat and pulling his earbuds out. “Hi.” you greet back going to take a seat across from him, as you walk his body follows your movements until he is directly facing you. He takes your hands in his and begins to speak, “How was your day?” you sigh, “I wish it was better.” He frowns and questions why it was bad. “Just some stuff at work and I haven’t even started on an essay that's due this Friday, but it’s ok, I’ll work through it. How was your day?” He looks at you like he doesn't want to tell you and this made you somewhat uneasy. “I want to tell you, I just can’t because Bighit is going to rip my head off if I spoil our comeback.” you groan, “oh my gosh, I can't wait! And you're right, if you do tell me about your day I'll probably bug you to tell me everything.” He smiles. “You’re adorable.” You smile, but it soon turns into a frown, “Yoongi, when are we going to meet?” he looks down and replies, “I don’t know, princess. I want to meet you so bad, and I know you're in Korea, it’s just that, all of these promotions we are doing for the comeback, I barely have time to breathe. I promise you though. We will meet soon.” he brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. You hear an alarm in the distance but it isn't yours. “I'm sorry princess, I have to go, I’ll come back soon.” You smile at him, “It’s ok, I’ll wake up now too.” You both smile one last time before vanishing.

You woke up, in the most uncomfortable -yet comfortable- position on Earth. You checked your phone which was lying on the floor now instead of being next to you on the couch. It was 6:05am, you groaned knowing there was no way you could ever go back to sleep. You were thinking about what you had to do, you could either do your laundry or do the essay. Contemplating what you should do, you choose neither of them and decide to go across the street to the convenience store for some snacks, you had been craving some pocky lately and you knew they would have it. You get up from your spot on the couch, put your shoes on and leave your house.

As you pulled open the doors of the mini-mart you were met with a rush of cold air, making you instinctively pull your jacket tighter around your frame. You smile at the cashier and make your way to the snack area. You search for your desired treat and finally find it. Just as you were about to reach for the last one, another hand came in and reached for it too, making your hands touch. “Sorry!” the other person says and you recognize that voice anywhere. Your heart rate speeds up as you turn to look at him. There he was. It was him. He audibly gasped, you were pretty sure the cashier heard it too. “Y/n?” He breathed out in a shaky voice. The sound of your name coming out of his mouth sounded like angels playing the harp in heaven. “Yoongi,” you responded with a broken smile. Tears were welling up in your eyes and he noticed this. He pulled you in for a hug as you cried tears of joy. You finally found him, you finally have him in your arms. Finally. “I told you we would meet soon.” You didn't say anything, you didn't have to; you just wrapped your arms around him even tighter. You both finally pulled away. “What do you say we buy this and share it back in my apartment. It's not far from here.” You asked as you picked up the pink box. He nodded and took it out of your hand. “I'm paying.” You stood there shocked as he made his way to the cashier. And by the time you got out of your frozen state, he was already done and was waiting by the door. When you walked up to him, you shook your head and said, “I’m paying next time.” he laughed, “ok, sure princess.” the sarcasm in his voice was beyond you.

Once you had reached your apartment you decided to ask him why he was up so early. “The boys decided they wanted me to suffer and blared their alarm clocks in my ear.” You couldn't help but chuckle. That sounds like them.

This was the greatest day ever for you. You're sat on your couch with the love of your life, eating strawberry flavored pocky and talking about everything and anything.

concert mum friend advice:

okay for real though, if there’s one place where I turn into the mum friend of a group, it’s a concert. I’ve been to a few during my time including a couple of local shows, so here’s some concert mum friends advice:

•HYDRATION: you know what I’m buying first? a bottle of water. so that myself and whoever I go with don’t have to fight through the crowd to get to the free water (if the venue provides some, which they should do) during a set. always stay hydrated y’all and I’ll be your hydration station after your first drink of the night (like a cider or a beer or whatever).

the short of it: always buy a bottle of water first before entering a show. you might look like a bit of dickhead (especially at an over 18s show in australia where the first orders are obvs something alcoholic) but it saves a fuck load of time having your own water bottle and it’s always good to be hydrated in a stifiling hot and sweaty venue. it also saves battling it out for a cup of free water at the barriers if you’re in the front row.

•BAGS/BACKPACKS: ’yall need somewhere to put the jacket that you brought with you to wait outside the venue? or to put your new merch that you just bought? didn’t bring a bag to put your wallet or phone in? no worries, put it in my bag.

or in general, always take your own backpack or small shoulder bag if you want to keep your stuff safe, ladies. unless the venue has a no bag policy or something odd like that, then don’t. if you’re lucky enough to have pockets somewhere on you, use those. (also if this fails use your bra girls). if the venue has a cloak room I suppose leave your stuff in there, but remember to pick it up after the show.

•FOOTWEAR: the shoes I’m wearing? safe, secure and comfortable footwear like converses or flat boots.

honestly though, this one took me two concerts in high school (ATL and amity affliction in 2009) of wearing ballet flats that were too big for me, to learn. chasing my shoes around all night was not a fun part of the experience lol. if you’re going to punk or metal shows, the crowd will get rough and you can easily lose a shoe during the show. this mostly applies if you’re in the mosh pit or close to it or stage diving/crowd-surfing. also good footwear keeps your feet safe from people stepping on them lol.

but i guess the same goes for any concert though. always wear good footwear that will last out the night and won’t strain your legs if it’s a mostly standing room only venue.

(like they’ll obvs have seats somewhere if it’s a bar/good concert venue/an arena etc etc. but the area in front of the stage is largely/generally standing room only in some venues most of the time depending where it’s at. also you might want to stand in your spot all night so that you don’t lose it (this applied to me back in high school bc i always stood in the front row with my friends), so it’s like 4-5 solid hours worth of standing.) again I repeat, always wear good, comfortable shoes.

there’s a lot more I could say about shoes, but I’ll keep it at this mini essay.

•CLOTHING: generally since I’ve been going to punk shows, I always wear jeans or shorts with a shirt. so if I try and crowd surf or something, I don’t flash people. lmao. and generally that’s largely the style of the scene anyway. and they’re some of the sweatiest shows tbh hahaha. but wear what you feel comfortable with.

I guess all I can say is maybe wear something that isn’t skin tight/body con (except for skinny jeans if it’s a punk show, never forget) in such a crowded room. I’ve done this a couple of times and it wasn’t the best idea bc it’s impossible to cool off comfortably during the show and after it.

honestly, band shirts are generally some of the best things to wear during shows, especially if they’re unisex sizing... which most of them generally are bc they’re usually loose. a lot of them are sold in “youth size” (and unisex like I said above) which teenage me took to mean teenage size. but now I think youth size actually means someone in their 20s bc all of those band shirts that i bought at shows in HS fit me now, whereas at ages 13-18 they were literally down to my knees, almost dress length in size lmao.)

I know that all of these sound like obvious common sense things.... but if you’re just starting out with going to concerts in your teens, I hope this was helpful.

to end, this has been some advice from a concert mum friend. have a good time staying safe at concerts y’all. for other older concertgoers, feel free to reblog and add your own advice!

50 SHADES OF KWON JI YONG PT 2

A/N LISTEN UP BEACHES I EDITED THIS WHILE EATING SKITTLES AND DUPLINGS SO YOU KNOW I WASNT NORMAL WHILE EDITING I HOPE I EDITED EVERYTHING IF NOT I’LL CORECT THIS LATER

Genre:Fanfiction/Romance/Erotic Romance

Type:Rated-r(later chapters)

Word Count 5,084

PT.1 , PT2 PT.3

My heart is pounding. The elevator arrives on the first floor, and I scramble out as soon as the doors slide open, stumbling once, but fortunately not sprawling on to the immaculate sandstone floor. I race for the wide glass doors, and I’m free in the bracing, cleansing, damp air of Seoul. Raising my face, I welcome the cool refreshing rain. I close my eyes and take a deep, purifying breath, trying to recover what’s left of my equilibrium. No man has ever affected me the way Kwon Jiyong has, and I cannot fathom why. Is it his looks? His civility? Wealth? Power? I don’t understand my irrational reaction. I breathe an enormous sigh of relief. What in heaven’s name was that all about? Leaning against one of the steel pillars of the building, I valiantly attempt to calm down and gather my thoughts. I shake my head. Holy crap – what was that? My heart steadies to its regular rhythm, and I can breathe normally again. I head for the car.As I leave the city limits behind, I begin to feel foolish and embarrassed as I replay the interview in my mind. Surely, I’m over-reacting to something that’s imaginary. Okay, so he’s very attractive, confident, commanding, at ease with himself – but on the flip side, he’s arrogant, and for all his impeccable manners, he’s autocratic and cold. Well, on the surface. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. He may be arrogant, but then he has a right to be – he’s accomplished so much at such a young age. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but why should he? Again, I’m irritated that Hyo-Rin didn’t give me a brief biography

While cruising along the I-5, my mind continues to wander. I’m truly perplexed as to what makes someone so driven to succeed. Some of his answers were so cryptic – as if he had a hidden agenda. And Hyo-Rin’s questions – ugh! The adoption and asking him if he was gay! I shudder. I can’t believe I said that. Ground, swallow me up now! Every time I think of that question in the future, I will cringe with embarrassment. Damn Min Hyo-Rin! I check the speedometer. I’m driving more cautiously than I would on any other occasion. And I know it’s the memory of two penetrating Brown eyes gazing at me, and a stern voice telling me to drive carefully. Shaking my head, I realize that Kwon’s more like a man double his age. Forget it, y/n, I scold myself. I decide that all in all, it’s been a very interesting experience, but I shouldn’t dwell on it. Put it behind you. I never have to see him again. I’m immediately cheered by the thought. I switch on the MP3 player and turn the volume up loud, sit back, and listen to thumping indie rock music as I press down on the accelerator. As I hit the 1-5, I realize I can drive as fast as I want. We live in a small community of duplex apartments in Gangnam-gu, close to the Gangnam campus of GAU. I’m lucky – Rin’s parents bought the place for her, and I pay peanuts for rent. It’s been home for four years now. As I pull up outside, I know Hyo-Rin is going to want a blow-by-blow account, and she is tenacious. Well, at least she has the mini-disc. Hopefully I won’t have to elaborate much beyond what was said during the interview. “Y/N! You’re back.” Rin sits in our living area, surrounded by books. She’s clearly been studying for finals – though she’s still in her pink flannel pajamas decorated with cute little kittens, the ones she reserves for the aftermath of breaking up with boyfriends, for assorted illnesses, and for general moody depression. She bounds up to me and hugs me hard. “I was beginning to worry. I expected you back sooner.” “Oh, I thought I made good time considering the interview ran over.” I wave the mini-disc recorder at her. “Y/N, thank you so much for doing this. I owe you, I know. How was it? What was he like?” Oh no – here we go, the Min Hyo-Rin, Inquisition. I struggle to answer her question. What can I say? “I’m glad it’s over, and I don’t have to see him again. He was rather intimidating, you know.” I shrug. “He’s very focused, intense even – and young. Really young.” Rin gazes innocently at me. I frown at her. “Don’t you look so innocent. Why didn’t you give me a biography? He made me feel like such an idiot for skimping on basic research.” Hyo-Rin clamps a hand to her mouth. “Jeez, Y/N, I’m sorry – I didn’t think.” I huff. “Mostly he was courteous, formal, slightly stuffy – like he’s old before his time. He doesn’t talk like a man of twenty-something. How old is he anyway?” “Twenty-eight. Jeez, Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have briefed you, but I was in such a panic. Let me have the mini-disc, and I’ll start transcribing the interview.”

“You look better. Did you eat your soup?” I ask, keen to change the subject. “Yes, and it was delicious as usual. I��m feeling much better.” She smiles at me in gratitude. I check my watch. “I have to run. I can still make my shift at Clayton’s.”(a/n let’s imagine that this store is in korea ok?!) “Y/N, you’ll be exhausted.” “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.” I’ve worked at Clayton’s since I started atGAU. It’s the largest independent hardware store in the Gangnam area, and over the four years I’ve worked here, I’ve come to know a little bit about most everything we sell – although ironically, I’m crap at any DIY. I leave all that to my dad. I’m much more of a curl-up-with-a-book-in-a-comfy-chair-by-the-fire kind of girl. I’m glad I can make my shift as it gives me something to focus on that isn’t Kwon Ji Yong. We’re busy – it’s the start of the summer season, and folks are redecorating their homes. Mrs. Clayton is pleased to see me. “y/n! I thought you weren’t going to make it today.” “My appointment didn’t take as long as I thought. I can do a couple of hours.” “I’m real pleased to see you.” She sends me to the storeroom to start re-stocking shelves, and I’m soon absorbed in the task. When I arrive home later, Hyo-Rin is wearing headphones and working on her laptop. Her nose is still pink, but she has her teeth into a story, so she’s concentrating and typing furiously. I’m thoroughly drained – exhausted by the long drive, the grueling interview, and by being rushed off my feet at Clayton’s. I slump on to the couch, thinking about the essay I have to finish and all the studying I haven’t done today because I was holed up with… him. “You’ve got some good stuff here,Y/N. Well done. I can’t believe you didn’t take him up on his offer to show you around. He obviously wanted to spend more time with you.” She gives me a fleeting quizzical look. I flush, and my heart rate inexplicably increases. That wasn’t the reason, surely? He just wanted to show me around so I could see that he was lord of all he surveyed. I realize I’m biting my lip, and I hope Rin doesn’t notice. But she seems absorbed in her transcription. “I hear what you mean about formal. Did you take any notes?” she asks. “Um… no, I didn’t.” “That’s fine. I can still make a fine article with this. Shame we don’t have some original stills. Good-looking son of a bitch, isn’t he?” I flush. “I suppose so.” I try hard to sound disinterested, and I think I succeed. “Oh come on,Y/N – even you can’t be immune to his looks.” She arches a perfect eyebrow at me. Crap! I distract her with flattery, always a good ploy. “You probably would have got a lot more out of him.” “I doubt that,Y/N. Come on , he practically offered you a job. Given that I foisted this on you at the last minute, you did very well.” She glances up at me speculatively. I make a hasty retreat into the kitchen. “So what did you really think of him?” Damn, she’s inquisitive. Why can’t she just let this go? Think of something – quick. “He’s very driven, controlling, arrogant – scary really, but very charismatic. I can understand the fascination,” I add truthfully, as I peer round the door at her hoping this will shut her up once and for all. “You, fascinated by a man? That’s a first,” she snorts. I start gathering the makings of a sandwich so she can’t see my face. “Why did you want to know if he was gay? Incidentally, that was the most embarrassing question. I was mortified, and he was pissed to be asked too.” I scowl at the memory. “Whenever he’s in the society pages, he never has a date.” “It was embarrassing. The whole thing was embarrassing. I’m glad I’ll never have to lay eyes on him again.” “Oh, Y/N, it can’t have been that bad. I think he sounds quite taken with you.” Taken with me? Now Hyo-Rin’s being ridiculous. “Would you like a sandwich?” “Please.” We talk no more of Kwon Ji Yong that evening, much to my relief. Once we’ve eaten, I’m able to sit at the dining table with Rin and, while she works on her article, I work on my essay on Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Damn, but that woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong century. By the time I finish, it’s midnight, and Hyo-Rin has long since gone to bed. I make my way to my room, exhausted, but pleased that I’ve accomplished so much for a Monday. I curl up in my white iron bed, wrapping my mother’s quilt around me, close my eyes, and I’m instantly asleep. That night I dream of dark places, bleak white cold floors, and Brown eyes. For the rest of the week, I throw myself into my studies and my job at Clayton’s. Hyo-Rin is busy too, compiling her last edition of her student magazine before she has to relinquish it to the new editor while also cramming for her finals. By Wednesday, she’s much better, and I no longer have to endure the sight of her pink-flannel-with-too-many-kittens PJs. I call my mom in Jeju to check on her, but also so she can wish me luck for my final exams. She proceeds to tell me about her latest venture into candle making – my mother is all about new business ventures. Fundamentally she’s bored and wants something to occupy her time, but she has the attention span of a goldfish. It’ll be something new next week. She worries me. I hope she hasn’t mortgaged the house to finance this latest scheme. And I hope that Bob – her relatively new but much older husband – is keeping an eye on her now that I’m no longer there. He does seem a lot more grounded than Husband Number Three. “How are things with you, Y/N?” For a moment, I hesitate, and I have Mom’s full attention. “I’m fine.” “Y/N? Have you met someone?” Wow… how does she do that? The excitement in her voice is palpable. “No, Mom, it’s nothing. You’ll be the first to know if I do.” “Y/N, you really need to get out more, honey. You worry me.” “Mom, I’m fine. How’s Bob?” As ever, distraction is the best policy. Later that evening, I call Ray, my stepdad, Mom’s Husband Number Two, the man I consider my father, and the man whose name I bear. It’s a brief conversation. In fact, it’s not so much a conversation as a one-sided series of grunts in response to my gentle coaxing. Ray is not a talker. But he’s still alive, he’s still watching soccer on TV, and going bowling and fly-fishing or making furniture when he’s not. Ray is a skilled carpenter and the reason I know the difference between a hawk and a handsaw. All seems well with him. Friday night, Hyo-Rin and I are debating what to do with our evening – we want some time out from our studies, from our work, and from student newspapers – when the doorbell rings. Standing on our doorstep is my good friend Mino, (dont hate Me)clutching a bottle of champagne. “Mino! Great to see you!” I give him a quick hug. “Come in.” Mino is the first person I met when I arrived at GAU, looking as lost and lonely as I did. We recognized a kindred spirit in each of us that day, and we’ve been friends ever since. Not only do we share a sense of humor, but we discovered that both Ray and Mino’s Father were in the same army unit together. As a result, our fathers have become firm friends too. Mino is studying engineering and is the first in his family to make it to college. He’s pretty damn bright, but his real passion is photography. Mino has a great eye for a good picture. “I have news.” He grins, his dark eyes twinkling. “Don’t tell me – you’ve managed not to get kicked out for another week,” I tease, and he scowls playfully at me. “The Gangnam Place Gallery is going to exhibit my photos next month.” “That’s amazing – congratulations!” Delighted for him, I hug him again. Hyo-Rin beams at him too. “Way to go Mino! I should put this in the paper. Nothing like last minute editorial changes on a Friday evening.” She grins. “Let’s celebrate. I want you to come to the opening.” Mino looks intently at me. I flush. “Both of you, of course,” he adds, glancing nervously at Rin. Mino and I are good friends, but I know deep down inside, he’d like to be more. He’s cute and funny, but he’s just not for me. He’s more like the brother I never had. Hyo-Rin often teases me that I’m missing the need-a-boyfriend gene, but the truth is – I just haven’t met anyone who… well, whom I’m attracted to, even though part of me longs for those trembling knees, heart-in-my-mouth, butterflies-in-my-belly, sleepless nights. Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Perhaps I’ve spent too long in the company of my literary romantic heroes, and consequently my ideals and expectations are far too high.(a/n ME THO) But in reality, nobody’s ever made me feel like that. Until very recently, the unwelcome, still small voice of my subconscious whispers. NO! I banish the thought immediately. I am not going there, not after that painful interview. Are you gay, Mr. Kwon? I wince at the memory. I know I’ve dreamt about him most nights since then, but that’s just to purge the awful experience from my system, surely? I watch Mino open the bottle of champagne. He’s tall, and in his jeans and t-shirt he’s all shoulders and muscles, tanned skin, dark hair and burning dark eyes. Yes, Mino’s pretty hot, but I think he’s finally getting the message: we’re just friends. The cork makes its loud pop, and Mino looks up and smiles. Saturday at the store is a nightmare. We are besieged by do-it-yourselfers wanting to spruce up their homes. Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, John and Patrick – the two other part-timers – and I are all rushed off our feet. But there’s a lull around lunchtime, and Mrs. Clayton asks me to check on some orders while I’m sitting behind the counter at the till discreetly eating my bagel. I’m engrossed in the task, checking catalogue numbers against the items we need and the items we’ve ordered, eyes flicking from the order book to the computer screen and back as I check the entries match. Then, for some reason, I glance up… and find myself locked in the bold Brown gaze of Kwon Ji Yong who’s standing at the counter, staring at me intently. Heart failure. “Miss Y/L/N. What a pleasant surprise.” His gaze is unwavering and intense. Holy crap. What the hell is he doing here looking all tousled-hair and outdoorsy in his cream chunky-knit sweater, jeans, and walking boots? I think my mouth has popped open, and I can’t locate my brain or my voice. “Mr. Kwon,” I whisper, because that’s all I can manage. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips and his eyes are alight with humor, as if he’s enjoying some private joke. “I was in the area,” he says by way of explanation. “I need to stock up on a few things. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel… or something. I shake my head to gather my wits. My heart is pounding a frantic tattoo, and for some reason I’m blushing furiously under his steady scrutiny. I am utterly thrown by the sight of him standing before me. My memories of him did not do him justice. He’s not merely good-looking – he’s the epitome of male beauty, breathtaking, and he’s here. Here in Clayton’s Hardware Store. Go figure. Finally my cognitive functions are restored and reconnected with the rest of my body. “Y/N. My name’s Y/N,” I mutter. “What can I help you with, Mr.Kwon?” He smiles, and again it’s like he’s privy to some big secret. It is so disconcerting. Taking a deep breath, I put on my professional I’ve-worked-in-this-shop-for-years façade. I can do this. “There are a few items I need. To start with, I’d like some cable ties,” he murmurs, his gray eyes cool but amused. Cable ties? “We stock various lengths. Shall I show you?” I mutter, my voice soft and wavery. Get a grip, Y/L/N. A slight frown mars Kwon’s rather lovely brow. “Please. Lead the way, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. I try for nonchalance as I come out from behind the counter, but really I’m concentrating hard on not falling over my own feet – my legs are suddenly the consistency of Jell-O. I’m so glad I decided to wear my best jeans this morning. “They’re in with the electrical goods, aisle eight.” My voice is a little too bright. I glance up at him and regret it almost immediately. Damn, he’s handsome. I blush. “After you,” he murmurs, gesturing with his long-fingered, beautifully manicured hand. With my heart almost strangling me – because it’s in my throat trying to escape from my mouth – I head down one of the aisles to the electrical section. Why is he in Gangnam? Why is he here at Clayton’s? And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain – probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata where my subconscious dwells – comes the thought: he’s here to see you. No way! I dismiss it immediately. Why would this beautiful, powerful, urbane man want to see me? The idea is preposterous, and I kick it out of my head. “Are you in Gangnam on business?” I ask, and my voice is too high, like I’ve got my finger trapped in a door or something. Damn! Try to be cool Y/N! “I was visiting the GAU farming division. It’s based at Gangnam. I’m currently funding some research there in crop rotation and soil science,” he says matter-of-factly. See? Not here to find you at all, my subconscious sneers at me, loud, proud, and pouty. I flush at my foolish wayward thoughts. “All part of your feed-the-world plan?” I tease. “Something like that,” he acknowledges, and his lips quirk up in a half smile. He gazes at the selection of cable ties we stock at Clayton’s. What on Earth is he going to do with those? I cannot picture him as a do-it-yourselfer at all. His fingers trail across the various packages displayed, and for some inexplicable reason, I have to look away. He bends and selects a packet. “These will do,” he says with his oh-so-secret smile, and I blush. “Is there anything else?” “I’d like some masking tape.” Masking tape? “Are you redecorating?” The words are out before I can stop them. Surely he hires laborers or has staff to help him decorate? “No, not redecorating,” he says quickly then smirks, and I have the uncanny feeling that he’s laughing at me. Am I that funny? Funny looking? “This way,” I murmur embarrassed. “Masking tape is in the decorating aisle.” I glance behind me as he follows. “Have you worked here long?” His voice is low, and he’s gazing at me, Brown eyes concentrating hard. I blush even more brightly. Why the hell does he have this effect on me? I feel like I’m fourteen years old – gauche, as always, and out of place. Eyes front Y/L/N! “Four years,” I mutter as we reach our goal. To distract myself, I reach down and select the two widths of masking tape that we stock. “I’ll take that one,” Kwon says softly pointing to the wider tape, which I pass to him. Our fingers brush very briefly, and the current is there again, zapping through me like I’ve touched an exposed wire. I gasp involuntarily as I feel it, all the way down to somewhere dark and unexplored, deep in my belly. Desperately, I scrabble around for my equilibrium. “Anything else?” My voice is husky and breathy. His eyes widen slightly. “Some rope, I think.” His voice mirrors mine, husky. “This way.” I duck my head down to hide my recurring blush and head for the aisle. “What sort were you after? We have synthetic and natural filament rope… twine… cable cord… ” I halt at his expression, his eyes darkening. Holy cow. “I’ll take five yards of the natural filament rope please.” Quickly, with trembling fingers, I measure out five yards against the fixed ruler, aware that his hot brown gaze is on me. I dare not look at him. Jeez, could I feel any more self-conscious? Taking my Stanley knife from the back pocket of my jeans, I cut it then coil it neatly before tying it in a slipknot. By some miracle, I manage not to remove a finger with my knife. “Were you a Girl Scout?” he asks, sculptured, sensual lips curled in amusement. Don’t look at his mouth! “Organized, group activities aren’t really my thing, Mr. Kwon.” He arches a brow. “What is your thing,Y/N?” he asks, his voice soft and his secret smile is back. I gaze at him unable to express myself. I’m on shifting tectonic plates. Try and be cool, Y/N, my tortured subconscious begs on bended knee. “Books,” I whisper, but inside, my subconscious is screaming: You! You are my thing! I slap it down instantly, mortified that my psyche is having ideas above its station. “What kind of books?” He cocks his head to one side. Why is he so interested? “Oh, you know. The usual. The classics. British literature, mainly.” He rubs his chin with his long index finger and thumb as he contemplates my answer. Or perhaps he’s just very bored and trying to hide it. “Anything else you need?” I have to get off this subject – those fingers on that face are so beguiling. “I don’t know. What else would you recommend?” What would I recommend? I don’t even know what you’re doing. “For a do-it-yourselfer?” He nods, brown eyes alive with wicked humor. I flush, and my eyes stray of their own accord to his snug jeans. “Coveralls,” I reply, and I know I’m no longer screening what’s coming out of my mouth. He raises an eyebrow, amused, yet again. “You wouldn’t want to ruin your clothing,” I gesture vaguely in the direction of his jeans. “I could always take them off.” He smirks.(A/N BOIIII!!!!) “Um.” I feel the color in my cheeks rising again. I must be the color of the communist manifesto. Stop talking. Stop talking NOW. “I’ll take some coveralls. Heaven forbid I should ruin any clothing,” he says dryly. I try and dismiss the unwelcome image of him without jeans. “Do you need anything else?” I squeak as I hand him the blue coveralls. He ignores my inquiry. “How’s the article coming along?” He’s finally asked me a normal question, away from all the innuendo and the confusing double talk… a question I can answer. I grasp it tightly with two hands as if were a life raft, and I go for honesty. “I’m not writing it, Rin is. Miss Min. My roommate, she’s the writer. She’s very happy with it. She’s the editor of the magazine, and she was devastated that she couldn’t do the interview in person.” I feel like I’ve come up for air – at last, a normal topic of conversation. “Her only concern is that she doesn’t have any original photographs of you.” Kwon raises an eyebrow. “What sort of photographs does she want?” Okay. I hadn’t factored in this response. I shake my head, because I just don’t know. “Well, I’m around. Tomorrow, perhaps… ” he trails off. “You’d be willing to attend a photo shoot?” My voice is squeaky again. Hyo-Rin will be in seventh heaven if I can pull this off. And you might see him again tomorrow, that dark place at the base of my brain whispers seductively at me. I dismiss the thought – of all the silly, ridiculous… “Hyo-Rin will be delighted – if we can find a photographer.” I’m so pleased, I smile at him broadly. His lips part, like he’s taking a sharp intake of breath, and he blinks. For a fraction of a second, he looks lost somehow, and the Earth shifts slightly on its axis, the tectonic plates sliding into a new position. Oh my. Kwon Ji Yong’s lost look. “Let me know about tomorrow.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his wallet. “My card. It has my cell number on it. You’ll need to call before ten in the morning.” “Okay.” I grin up at him. Hyo-Rin is going to be thrilled. “Y/N!” Paul has materialized at other the end of the aisle. He’s Mr. Clayton’s youngest brother. I’d heard he was home from Princeton, but I wasn’t expecting to see him today. “Er, excuse me for a moment, Mr. Grey.” Grey frowns as I turn away from him. Paul has always been a buddy, and in this strange moment that I’m having with the rich, powerful, awesomely off-the-scale attractive control-freak Kwon, it’s great to talk to someone who’s normal. Paul hugs me hard taking me by surprise. “Y/N, hi, it’s so good to see you!” he gushes. “Hello Paul, how are you? You home for your brother’s birthday?” “Yep. You’re looking well, Y/N, really well.” He grins as he examines me at arm’s length. Then he releases me but keeps a possessive arm draped over my shoulder. I shuffle from foot to foot, embarrassed. It’s good to see Paul, but he’s always been over-familiar. When I glance up at Kwon Jiyong, he’s watching us like a hawk, his brown eyes hooded and speculative, his mouth a hard impassive line. He’s changed from the weirdly attentive customer to someone else – someone cold and distant. “Paul, I’m with a customer. Someone you should meet,” I say, trying to defuse the antagonism I see in Kwon’s eyes. I drag Paul over to meet him, and they weigh each other up. The atmosphere is suddenly arctic. “Er, Paul, this is Kwon Ji Yong. Mr. Kwon, this is Paul Clayton. His brother owns the place.” And for some irrational reason, I feel I have to explain a bit more. “I’ve known Paul ever since I’ve worked here, though we don’t see each other that often. He’s back from Princeton where he’s studying business administration.” I’m babbling… Stop, now! “Mr. Clayton.” Ji Yong holds his hand out, his look unreadable. “Mr. Kwon,” Paul returns his handshake. “Wait up – not the Kwon Ji Yong? Of Kwon Enterprises Holdings?” Paul goes from surly to awestruck in less than a nanosecond. Kwon gives him a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Wow – is there anything I can get you?” “Y/N has it covered, Mr. Clayton. She’s been very attentive.” His expression is impassive, but his words… it’s like he’s saying something else entirely. It’s baffling. “Cool,” Paul responds. “Catch you later, Y/N.” “Sure, Paul.” I watch him disappear toward the stock room. “Anything else, Mr. Kwon?” “Just these items.” His tone is clipped and cool. Damn… have I offended him? Taking a deep breath, I turn and head for the till. What is his problem? I ring up the rope, coveralls, masking tape, and cable ties at the till. “That will be forty-three dollars, please.” I glance up at Kwon, and I wish I hadn’t. He’s watching me closely, his brown eyes intense and smoky. It’s unnerving. “Would you like a bag?” I ask as I take his credit card. “Please, Y/N.” His tongue caresses my name, and my heart once again is frantic. I can hardly breathe. Hurriedly, I place his purchases in a plastic carrier. “You’ll call me if you want me to do the photo shoot?” He’s all business once more. I nod, rendered speechless yet again, and hand back his credit card. “Good. Until tomorrow perhaps.” He turns to leave, then pauses. “Oh – and Y/N, I’m glad Miss Min couldn’t do the interview.” He smiles, then strides with renewed purpose out of the store, slinging the plastic bag over his shoulder, leaving me a quivering mass of raging female hormones. I spend several minutes staring at the closed door through which he’s just left before I return to planet Earth. Okay – I like him. There, I’ve admitted it to myself. I cannot hide from my feelings anymore. I’ve never felt like this before. I find him attractive, very attractive. But it’s a lost cause, I know, and I sigh with bittersweet regret. It was just a coincidence, his coming here. But still, I can admire him from afar, surely? No harm can come of that. And if I find a photographer, I can do some serious admiring tomorrow. I bite my lip in anticipation and find myself grinning like a schoolgirl. I need to phone Hyo-Rin and organize a photo-shoot.

boi i swear he...ugh he as a rich ceo....just yasss,also i didnt change the paul name because its the only time he appers in the book so yeah tommorow i will upload another part!!!!

today is wednesday, july twenty second, in the year of two thousand twenty. when i started writing this, midnight is only half an hour away. the day had ended, the long tiring day has finally come to an end. i should be sleeping, letting go of what happened today. i shouldn’t drag today’s problems or challenges into tomorrow.

at two am this morning, i was still awake. accompanied by my trusty desk lamp and stacks of lecture notes. trying to memorize everything i learned for three weeks, in hopes that i’d pass the exam with flying colors.

yesterday, i got the news that i did not pass one of the smaller tests held every week. we call it “minitests”. but the burden they carry is definitely not mini at all. it was the first time, in my three years of studying medicine, that i had failed a minitest. 

i like to think that it didn’t bother me one bit, i tried to think that way. but deep down, i know it does, no matter what i do, no matter how i tried to convince myself that one bad grade would not determine my whole future. but at that moment, it felt like it could, ruin my whole future.

i was embarrassed, i was disappointed at myself. was i not studying hard enough ? was i too easily satisfied by my own capabilities ? shouldn’t i be trying harder ? how can they do it, but i can’t ? what is my excuse ?

but if i think of it this way, i’m glad it happened. i am glad i failed that one anatomy exam during the musculoskeletal module. i am glad i got my first ever B back in my fifth semester, even if it took me weeks to accept it. i’m glad that the first time i failed a minitest is in my sixth semester, opthalmology module, truly an eye opening moment.

i am glad all these failures happened. because god knows what i’d be without them. this is one of the ways that i get to improve myself, to let life slap me in the face and tell me not to slack off, to keep giving the same amount of effort. to maintain the consistency of my hardworks.

july is coming to an end next week. three exams had passed, one more to go this monday. i turned twenty less than two weeks ago, it still hasn’t settled in me yet. my body and mind has experienced the withdrawal or yoyo effect. it has proven to be so much harder to get back into that peak health and fitness zone i used to be at a couple months ago. of course everything is hard when your mind isn’t in the right state. of course everything is hard when you have so much worries and doubts looming at the back of your head.

i keep telling myself, i can do it, i just have to live it day by day. i kept on pushing myself, one step is a step nonetheless so i shouldn’t be discouraged if i’m not moving fast enough. seeing the progress others have made around me, seeing their successes and achievements, while i’m here struggling to fight my own demons, my own self.

i can do this.

over and over again, until i got tired of hearing it. just one more exam to go, then i have to finish my research proposal, then i have to prepare for my seminar. just a little bit more. 

funny how at the beginning of the year, these are the things that i am most excited about. my modules for my sixth semester in med school, my research proposal, my seminar. i was so excited for this, cause they are a reminder of how far i’ve come, of how close i am to my dreams. now however, they had somehow turned into some sort of a burden, something to dread, something to fear, something that triggers anxiety which i thought no longer resides within me. 

i kept pushing people away too. i pushed them away, cause i got used to the company of myself, and only myself. it is day one hundred and twenty eight of staying at home for me. yes, i counted the days. yes, i made a separate calendar just to count it. obviously i had went out a couple times before, for groceries, to the temple, to buy stuff, and lately to dad’s office cause it is where i did my online exams. but for the most of it, you will find me at the comfort and confines of my room.

i haven’t seen the sea in more than three months, the water sign in me is slowly losing sanity. i miss the beach, i miss seeing the sea, i miss the sand between between my toes and the calming sound of the waves hitting the shore. i miss my runs, my morning runs accompanied by blue skies, evening runs that would always ends with an array of pastels on the sky.

what i am feeling right now, is the accumulation of everything that happened. not just from the things i wrote about, but also things that i’ve decided to keep for myself, and the usual family problems. it is safe to say that i am feeling everything all at once. it’s impossible to figure out which one has the biggest impact on my current mind status.

oh, would you look at that, it’s already the next day. it is now four minutes pass midnight, today is thursday, july twenty third. today also happens to be one direction’s tenth anniversary, but i am not going to write about it here. i have two tumblr accounts for a reason. 

i really should be sleeping right now. my stomach is acting up again, i’m beginning to think i have reflux disease. i also don’t want my allergies to act up, not when my next exam is less than a week away.

this is where i end my reality check, my slice of life, my rambles and rants, my unspoken thoughts and feelings. i’ll try to write more of this, they’re a good venting out mechanism, a place to pour everything that’s been bottled up for so long. i’ll come back soon. if the virus didn’t get to me first.

which i hope does not happen. cause i still want to live. even if i joked about wanting to die oftenly. i still want to live to see my dreams coming true.

this is getting unnecessarily long. i should stop before this ends up being longer than my essays. so, until next time.

dmtr.

Fifty shades of phan; chapter 2

Fifty shades of Phan A/N: I know Phil is 30 now but in this story he is 27, oh and they are not in London in this story

Chapter 2

My heart is pounding. The elevator arrives on the first floor, and I scramble out as soon as the doors slide open, stumbling once, but fortunately not sprawling on to the immaculate sandstone floor. I race for the wide glass doors, and I’m free in the bracing, cleansing, damp air of Seattle. Raising my face, I welcome the cool refreshing rain. I close my eyes and take a deep, purifying breath, trying to recover what’s left of my equilibrium. No man has ever affected me the way Phil Lester has, and I cannot fathom why. Is it his looks, his civility, wealth,power I don’t understand my irrational reaction.

I breathe an enormous sigh of relief. What in heaven’s name was that all about leaning against one of the steel pillars of the building, I valiantly attempt to calm down and gather my thoughts. I shake my head. Holy crap - what was thatMy heart steadies to its regular rhythm, and I can breathe normally again. I head for the car. As I leave the city limits behind, I begin to feel foolish and embarrassed as I replay the interview in my mind. Surely, I’m over-reacting to something that’s imaginary. Okay, so he’s very attractive, confident, commanding, at ease with himself - but on the flip side, he’s arrogant, and for all his impeccable manners, he’s autocratic and cold. Well, on the surface. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. He may be arrogant, but then he has a right to be - he’s accomplished so much at such a young age. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but why should he again, I’m irritated that Luoise didn’t give me a brief biography. While cruising along the I-5, my mind continues to wander. I’m truly perplexed as to what makes someone so driven to succeed. Some of his answers were so cryptic - as if he had a hidden agenda. And Luoise’s questions - ugh! The adoption and asking him if he was gay! I shudder. I can’t believe I said that. Ground, swallow me up now! Every time I think of that question in the future, I will cringe with embarrassment. Damn Luoise Pentland!

I check the speedometer. I’m driving more cautiously than I would on any other occasion. And I know it’s the memory of two penetrating blue eyes gazing at me, and a stern voice telling me to drive carefully. Shaking my head, I realize that Lester’s more like a man double his age. Forget it, Dan,I scold myself. I decide that all in all, it’s been a very interesting experience, but I shouldn’t dwell on it . Put it behind you. I never have to see him again. I’m immediately cheered by the thought. I switch on the MP3 player and turn the volume up loud, sit back, and listen to thumping indie rock music as I press down on the accelerator.

We live in a small community of duplex apartments in Vancouver, Washington, close to the Vancouver campus of WSU. I’m lucky - Luoise’s parents bought the place for her, and I pay peanuts for rent. It’s been home for four years now. As I pull up outside, I know luoise going to want a blow-by-blow account, and she is tenacious. Well, at least she has the mini-disc. Hopefully I won’t have to elaborate much beyond what was said during the interview.

“Dan! You’re back.” Luoise sits in our living area, surrounded by books. She’s clearly been studying for finals - though she’s still in her pink flannel pajamas decorated with cute little rabbits, the ones she reserves for the aftermath of breaking up with boyfriends, for assorted illnesses, and for general moody depression. She bounds up to me and hugs me hard.

“I was beginning to worry. I expected you back sooner.”

“Oh, I thought I made good time considering the interview ran over.” I wave the mini-disc recorder at her.

“Dan, thank you so much for doing this. I owe you, I know. How was it what was he like?” Oh no - here we go, the Luoise Pentland Inquisition.

I struggle to answer her question. What can I say?

“I’m glad it’s over, and I don’t have to see him again, you know.” I shrug. “He’s very focused,kind….and really intimidating .”

Luoise gazes innocently at me. I frown at her.

“Don’t you look so innocent. Why didn’t you give me a biography he made me feel like such an idiot for skimping on basic research.” Luoise clamps a hand to her mouth. “Jeez, Dan , I’m sorry - I didn’t think.” I huff. “Mostly he was courteous, formal, slightly stuffy - like he’s old before his time. He doesn’t talk like a man of twenty-something. How old is he anyway?” “Twenty-seven. Jeez, Dan,I’m sorry. I should have briefed you, but I was in such a panic. Let me have the mini-disc, and I’ll start transcribing the interview.” “You look better. Did you eat your soup?” I ask, keen to change the subject. “Yes, and it was delicious as usual. I’m feeling much better.” She smiles at me in gratitude. I check my watch. “I have to run. I can still make my shift at Clayton’s.” “Dan,you’ll be exhausted.” “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”

I’ve worked at Clayton’s since I started at WSU. It’s the largest independent hardware store in the Portland area, and over the four years I’ve worked here, I’ve come to know a little bit about most everything we sell - although ironically, I’m crap at any DIY. I leave all that to my dad. I’m much more of a curl-up-with-a-book-in-a-comfy-chair-by-the-fire kind of a boy. I’m glad I can make my shift as it gives me something to focus on that isn’t Phil Lester We’re busy - it’s the start of the summer season, and folks are redecorating their homes. Mrs. Clayton is pleased to see me.

“Dan! I thought you weren’t going to make it today.” “My appointment didn’t take as long as I thought. I can do a couple of hours.” “I’m real pleased to see you.” She sends me to the storeroom to start re-stocking shelves, and I’m soon absorbed in the task. When I arrive home later, Luoise is wearing headphones and working on her laptop. Her nose is still pink, but she has her teeth into a story, so she’s concentrating and typing furiously. I’m thoroughly drained - exhausted by the long drive, the grueling interview, and by being rushed off my feet at Clayton’s. I slump on to the couch, thinking about the essay I have to finish and all the studying I haven’t done today because I was holed up with … him.

“So what did you really think of him?” Damn, she’s inquisitive. Why can’t she just let this goThink of something - quick. “He’s very driven, controlling, arrogant - scary really, but very charismatic. I can understand the fascination,” I add truthfully, as I peer round the door at her hoping this will shut her up once and for all. “You, fascinated by a man that’s a first,” she snorts.

I start gathering the makings of a sandwich so she can’t see my face. “Why did you want to know if he was gay Incidentally, that was the most embarrassing question. I was mortified, and he was pissed to be asked too.” I scowl at the memory. “Whenever he’s in the society pages, he never has a date…and you also haven’t had a date in so long.” “It was embarrassing. The whole thing was embarrassing. I’m glad I’ll never have to lay eyes on him again.” “Oh, Dan it can’t have been that bad. I think he sounds quite taken with you.” Taken with me Now Luoise is being ridiculous. “Would you like a sandwich?” “Please.” We talk no more of Phil Lester that evening, much to my relief. Once we’ve eaten, I’m able to sit at the dining table with Luoise and, while she works on her article, I work on my essay on Tess of the D'Urbervilles. Damn, but that woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong century. By the time I finish, it’s midnight, and Luoise has long since gone to bed. I make my way to my room, exhausted, but pleased that I’ve accomplished so much for a Monday.

Saturday at the store is a nightmare. We are besieged by do-it-yourselfers wanting to spruce up their homes. Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, John and Patrick - the two other part-timers.

“How are things with you, Ana?” For a moment, I hesitate, and I have Mom’s full attention.

“I’m fine.”

“Dan have you met someone?” Wow… how does she do that The excitement in her voice is palpable. “No, Mom, it’s nothing. You’ll be the first to know if I do.” “Dan,you really need to get out more, honey. You worry me.” “Mom,I’m fine. How’s Bob?” As ever, distraction is the best policy.

As I end the call I turn sharp round, Mrs. Clayton asks me to check on checking catalogue numbers against the items we need and the items we’ve ordered, eyes flicking from the order book and back as I check the entries match. Then, for some reason, I turn around and glance up… and find myself locked in the bold blue gaze of Phil Lester who’s standing at the counter, staring at me intently. Heart failure. “Mister Howell What a pleasant surprise.” His gaze is unwavering and intense.

Holy crap. What the hell is he doing here looking all tousled-hair and outdoorsy in his cream chunky-knit sweater, jeans, and walking boots I think my mouth has popped open, and I can’t locate my brain or my voice. “Mr. Lester,” I whisper, because that’s all I can manage. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips and his eyes are alight with humor, as if he’s enjoying some private joke. “I was in the area,” he says by way of explanation. “I need to stock up on a few things. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mister Howell .” His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel… or something. I shake my head to gather my wits. My heart is pounding a frantic tattoo, and for some reason I’m blushing furiously under his steady scrutiny. I am utterly thrown by the sight of him standing before me. My memories of him did not do him justice. He’s not merely good-looking - he’s the epitome of male beauty, breathtaking, and he’s here. Here in Clayton’s Hardware Store. Go figure. Finally my cognitive functions are restored and reconnected with the rest of my body.

“Dan. My name’s Dan,” I mutter. “What can I help you with, Mr. Lester ?” He smiles, and again it’s like he’s privy to some big secret. It is so disconcerting. Taking a deep breath, I put on my professional I’ve-worked-in-this-shop-for-years face?. I can do this. “There are a few items I need. To start with, I’d like some cable ties,” he murmurs, his blue eyes cool but amused. Cable ties? “We stock various lengths. Shall I show you?” I mutter, my voice soft and wavery. Get a grip, Howell . A slight frown mars Lester’s rather lovely brow. “Please. Lead the way, Mister Howell ,” he says. I try for nonchalance as I come out from behind the counter, but really I’m concentrating hard on not falling over my own feet - my legs are suddenly the consistency of Jell-O. I’m so glad I decided to wear my best jeans this morning.

“They’re in with the electrical goods, aisle eight.” My voice is a little too bright. I glance up at him and regret it almost immediately. Damn, he’s handsome. I blush. “After you,” he murmurs, gesturing with his long-fingered, beautifully manicured hand.With my heart almost strangling me - because it’s in my throat trying to escape from my mouth - I head down one of the aisles to the electrical section. Why is he in Portland? Why is he here at Clayton’s And from a very tiny, underused part of my brain - probably located at the base of my medulla oblongata where my subconscious dwells - comes the thought: he’s here to see you. No way! I dismiss it immediately. Why would this beautiful, powerful, urbane man want to see me the idea is preposterous, and I kick it out of my head.

He gazes at the selection of cable ties we stock at Clayton’s. What on Earth is he going to do with thoseI cannot picture him as a do-it-yourselfer at all. His fingers trail across the various packages displayed, and for some inexplicable reason, I have to look away. He bends and selects a packet. “These will do,” he says with his oh-so-secret smile, and I blush. “Is there anything else?” “I’d like some masking tape.” Masking tape? “Are you redecorating?” The words are out before I can stop them. Surely he hires laborers or has staff to help him decorate? “No, not redecorating,” he says quickly then smirks, and I have the uncanny feeling that he’s laughing at me. Am I that funny looking? “This way,” I murmur embarrassed. “Masking tape is in the decorating aisle.” I glance behind me as he follows.

“Have you worked here long?” His voice is low, and he’s gazing at me, blur eyes concentrating hard. I blush even more brightly. Why the hell does he have this effect on me? I feel like I’m fourteen years old - gauche, as always, and out of place. Eyes front Howell !

“Four years,” I mutter as we reach our goal. To distract myself, I reach down and select the two widths of masking tape that we stock. “I’ll take that one,” Grey says softly pointing to the wider tape, which I pass to him. Our fingers brush very briefly, and the current is there again, zapping through me like I’ve touched an exposed wire. I gasp involuntarily as I feel it, all the way down to somewhere dark and unexplored, deep in my belly. Desperately, I scrabble around for my equilibrium.

“Anything else?” My voice is husky and breathy. His eyes widen slightly. “Some rope, I think.” His voice mirrors mine, husky. “This way.” I duck my head down to hide my recurring blush and head for the aisle.

cable cord… “ I halt at his expression, his eyes darkening. Holy cow. “I’ll take five yards of the natural filament rope please.”

Quickly, with trembling fingers, I measure out five yards against the fixed ruler, aware that his hot blue gaze is on me. I dare not look at him. Jeez, could I feel any more self-conscious taking my Stanley knife from the back pocket of my jeans, I cut it then coil it neatly before tying it in a slipknot. By some miracle, I manage not to remove a finger with my knife.

“Were you a Boy Scout?” he asks, sculptured, sensual lips curled in amusement. Don’t look at his mouth! “Organized, group activities aren’t really my thing, Mr. Lester.” He arches a brow. “What is your thing, Daniel?” he asks, his voice soft and his secret smile is back. I gaze at him unable to express myself. I’m on shifting tectonic plates. Try and be cool, Dan,my tortured subconscious begs on bended knee. “Books,” I whisper, but inside, my subconscious is screaming: You! You are my thing! I slap it down instantly, mortified that my psyche is having ideas above its station. “What kind of books?” He cocks his head to one side. Why is he so interested? “Oh, you know. The usual. The classics. British literature, mainly.”

He rubs his chin with his long index finger and thumb as he contemplates my answer.

Or perhaps he’s just very bored and trying to hide it.

“Anything else you need?” I have to get off this subject - those fingers on that face are so beguiling. “I don’t know. What else would you recommend?” What would I recommendI don’t even know what you’re doing. “For a do-it-yourselfer?” He nods, blue eyes alive with wicked humor. I flush, and my eyes stray of their own accord to his snug jeans. “Coveralls,” I reply, and I know I’m no longer screening what’s coming out of my mouth. He raises an eyebrow, amused, yet again. “You wouldn’t want to ruin your clothing,” I gesture vaguely in the direction of his jeans. “I could always take them off.” He smirks. “Um…okay then no clothes-I mean no coveralls….I can’t really think of anything else"I feel the color in my cheeks rising again. I must be the color of the communist manifesto. Stop talking. Stop talking NOW.

“Do you need anything else?” I squeak . He ignores my inquiry. “How’s the article coming along?” He’s finally asked me a normal question, away from all the innuendo and the confusing double talk… a question I can answer. I grasp it tightly with two hands as if were a life raft, and I go for honesty. “I’m not writing it, Luoise is. Miss Pentland . My roommate, she’s the writer. She’s very happy with it. She’s the editor of the magazine, and she was devastated that she couldn’t do the interview in person.” I feel like I’ve come up for air - at last, a normal topic of conversation. “Her only concern is that she doesn’t have any original photographs of you.” Lester raises an eyebrow. “What sort of photographs does she want?” Okay. I hadn’t factored in this response. I shake my head, because I just don’t know.

“Well, I’m around. Tomorrow, perhaps… ” he trails off.

“You’d be willing to attend a photo shoot?” My voice is squeaky again. Luoise will be in seventh heaven if I can pull this off. And you might see him again tomorrow, that dark place at the base of my brain whispers seductively at me. I dismiss the thought - of all the silly, ridiculous… “Luoise will be delighted - if we can find a photographer.” I’m so pleased, I smile at him broadly. His lips part, like he’s taking a sharp intake of breath, and he blinks. For a fraction of a second, he looks lost somehow, and the Earth shifts slightly on its axis, the tectonic plates sliding into a new position.

Oh my. Phil lester’s lost look.

“Let me know about tomorrow.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his wallet. “My card. It has my cell number on it. You’ll need to call before ten in the morning.” “Okay.” I grin up at him. Luoise is going to be thrilled.

“Dan!”

Caspar (lee) has materialized at other the end of the aisle. He’s Mr. Clayton’s youngest brother. I’d heard he was home from Africa, but I wasn’t expecting to see him today. “Er, excuse me for a moment, Mr. Lester.” Lester frowns as I turn away from him. Caspar has always been a buddy, and in this strange moment that I’m having with the rich, powerful, awesomely off-the-scale attractive control-freak Lester, it’s great to talk to someone who’s normal. Caspar hugs me hard taking me by surprise. “Dan, hi, it’s so good to see you!” he gushes. “Hello Caspar , how are you, you home for your brother’s birthday?” “Yep. You’re looking well, Dan, really well.” He grins as he examines me at arm’s length. Then he releases me but keeps a possessive arm draped over my shoulder. I shuffle from foot to foot, embarrassed. It’s good to see Caspar , but he’s always been over-familiar. When I glance up at Phil Lester , he’s watching us like a hawk, his blue eyes hooded and speculative, his mouth a hard impassive line. He’s changed from the weirdly attentive customer to someone else - someone cold and distant.

“Caspar, I’m with a customer. Someone you should meet,” I say, trying to defuse the antagonism I see in Lester’s eyes. I drag Caspar over to meet him, and they weigh each other up. The atmosphere is suddenly arctic. “Er, Caspar, this is Phil Lester . Mr. Lester, this is Caspar Clayton. His brother owns the place.” And for some irrational reason, I feel I have to explain a bit more. “I’ve known Caspar ever since I’ve worked here, though we don’t see each other that often. He’s back from Africa where he’s studying business administration.” I’m babbling… Stop, now! “Mr. Clayton.” Phil holds his hand out, his look unreadable. “Mr. Lester,” Caspar returns his handshake. “Wait up - not the phil Lester of Lester Enterprises Holdings?” Caspar goes from surly to awestruck in less than a nanosecond. Lester gives him a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Wow - is there anything I can get you?“ "Daniel has it covered, Mr. Clayton. He’s been very attentive.” His expression is impassive, but his words… it’s like he’s saying something else entirely. It’s baffling. “Cool,” Caspar responds. “Catch you later, Dan.” “Sure, Caspar .” I watch him disappear toward the stock room.

“Anything else, Mr.lester?”

“Just these items.” His tone is clipped and cool. Damn… have I offended him taking a deep breath, I turn and head for the till. What is his problem I ring up the rope,masking tape, and cable ties at the till. “That will be forty-three dollars, please.” I glance up at Lester, and I wish I hadn’t. He’s watching me closely, his blue eyes intense and smoky. It’s unnerving. “Would you like a bag?” I ask as I take his credit card. “Please, Daniel.” His tongue caresses my name, and my heart once again is frantic.

I can hardly breathe. Hurriedly, I place his purchases in a plastic carrier.

“You’ll call me if you want me to do the photo shoot?” He’s all business once more. I nod, rendered speechless yet again, and hand back his credit card.

“Good. Until tomorrow perhaps.”

He turns to leave, then pauses. “Oh - and Daniel, I’m glad Miss Pentland couldn’t do the interview.” He smiles, then strides with renewed purpose out of the store, slinging the plastic bag over his shoulder, leaving me a quivering mass of raging hormones. I spend several minutes staring at the closed door through which he’s just left before I return to planet Earth. Okay - I like him. There, I’ve admitted it to myself. I cannot hide from my feelings anymore. I’ve never felt like this before. I find him attractive, very attractive. But it’s a lost cause, I know, and I sigh with bittersweet regret. It was just a coincidence, his coming here. But still, I can admire him from afar, surely no harm can come of that. And if I find a photographer, I can do some serious admiring tomorrow. I bite my lip in anticipation and find myself grinning like a schoolgirl. I need to phone Luoise and organize a photo-shoot.

………………………………………………….

Character placement: https://phanficminr.tumblr.com/post/160124305810/fifty-shades-of-phan-character-placement

First chapter: https://phanficminr.tumblr.com/post/160150333965/fifty-shades-of-phan-chapter-1

Why Do You Write Fanfiction?

I have a friend of mine who’s in a writer’s group with me.  We get together bi-weekly with another mutual friend to discuss our ongoing writing projects, talk about writing problems, review each others’ work, and discuss movies, books, comics, and TV shows.  He’s also self-published two novels through Smashwords and Amazon (digital only).

However, he has a huge aversion to fanfiction.  He feels it is disrespectful for the author, takes money out of their pockets, that people are “wasting” their talent writing in someone else’s world when they could be writing original work. 

I write fanfiction.  I’ve been posting fanfiction since 2006.  When I met this fellow and let him know what I did, I have been slowly softening his attitude towards fanfiction.  Granted, I just let him know about the stories I write that have to do with filling in the blanks not explored in canon, or doing crossovers that would never happen in real life. ( I don’t go into the NC-17 explicit sex fanfiction I also write, because he’s particularly conservative in that respect and I know no good would come of letting him know that.  I have told only two people IRL that I write explicit fanfic, for many reasons.)

However, ever since he became a published author (he is getting paid, even if it’s a small amount), he’s been more vocal about it.  He’s not nasty about it, as he respects the original things I write, but I do tire of hearing that something I am deeply passionate about is either not worthy of being a medium, or that fanfic writers should just “write their own original stories.”

So I wrote a short essay about how I feel to explain my stance to him, and wanted to share it with you.

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I wanted to expand some more, in my own words, why I write fanfiction.

A couple of aspects of why I write fanfiction has to do with the audience.  Because it is written for specific communities who are experiencing the same book/movie/TV show together, you have a deeply, deeply passionate and connected audience who is reading your work.

As a published author with original work, you don't usually get the kind of immediate feedback and intimate connection with your audience that you do as a fanfiction author.  While not everyone who reads a fanfic comments, and those that do are often short, there are also several who will lovingly comment on each and every chapter, writing about how certain things made them feel, often going into mini-essays of what that story meant to them.  They'll praise individual lines and general characterization, comment on plot twists and plot arcs.  Their comments can give you inspiration for new directions.  They'll become your beta-readers (editors) after the fact, and they'll make you better.  

They'll put in hours to not just read your fanfiction, but also to comment, and they'll do it for free, for strangers, because the story is in their fandom.  When I see reviews on Amazon for books, and contrast that to what is received for stories on different fanfiction sites, they have a night-and-day difference.  Reviews on Amazon are meant to let other potential readers know if they should plunk down their money for the book.  Reviews on fanfiction sites are the readers talking directly to the author.  As an author of original work, one is less likely to see that kind of personal feedback unless your readers write you fanmail.  Not everyone remember to do that when it's easier just to put up an Amazon review.

And though fanfiction does have the jumping-off point of an established world and characters, which may make things easier in that respect, in other respects in makes an author's job harder, because you have to work within certain restraints.  You're writing for passionate fans, and if you get aspects of the world or characters' personalities wrong (without giving a compelling reason for the change), they are going to be up in arms and let you know.  Loudly.  Writing your own work, you have to be internally consistent, but you can introduce new things about the world or characters without people going, "But that's not how it goes!"  

Even if you're writing in an AU (alternate universe, say one where everyone is a high school student, or doesn't have superpowers, or they're all in space, anything where there's a major change), you still have to be able to accurately translate character personalities or defining character histories from the canon world to your AU in a way that will satisfy your audience.  It's a different kind of balancing act than writing original work, and one that is arguably as hard as crafting something from scratch.

Fanfiction, I feel, serves as an important in the creative community, one of a fandom sharing their passion amongst themselves for the world and characters of a particular piece of media.  I do not see it as "lesser," as something you do when you're young before you do "real writing," or something that's only a learning tool to get you ready for writing original fiction.  

I do feel that it has and continues to help me tremendously in learning how to write, from feedback from commenters to learning how to write within deadlines, from exploring different prompt that pushed my comfort zones to learning how to manage word count expectations (short or long).  If I had been writing original fiction, I never would have gotten the kind of free exchange of information about my writing.  Yes, there are places on the internet where people can exchange their original stories and ask for feedback, but fanfiction readers, writers, and commenters will put in enormous, inordinate amounts of time and effort, for free, just to help make their communities better as a whole.  I have had total strangers be willing to edit my 20K fandom story on their own time for no other reason than that they like the fandom I'm also a part of.  And these people know the same world and characters I am writing, so they can help with characterization and background information, a luxury not often afforded writers of original fiction.

Readers of fanfiction are usually the ones pushing other people to read the books, watch the TV show or movie.  They love the source material dearly, and obviously to grow their audience, they need people who know what it's based on!  

I also feel like the fanfiction communities, as a whole, are welcoming and safe places.  If my stories had received the kind of harsh criticism some people like to level at strangers on the internet in public online forums, I very likely wouldn't have kept writing past the first few efforts.  One can quickly explore oddball options and off-the-wall plots in fanfiction, and very often find that they are not alone.  

And finally, the thought that, "Why don't you just write you own stories?" that is very often leveled at fanfiction writers I feel is very unfair.  People write fanfiction as a hobby.  Should every good home cook go out and run a restaurant?  Should every person who participates in a 5k be training for the Olympics?  Should every home gardener make a business of selling their produce?  Should ever knitter start an Etsy store and start taking commissions?  Should every hobby have to be turned into a profitable venture?

I do hope that at some point soon I will have the kind of story I feel ready to publish for the public.  But while I am doing that, I'll also write fanfiction.  Because it's fun.  

Remember Me?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Warning(s): 3 tbs of Cliche ahead Genre: Romance, Fluff

The rain pelted against my window pane. I remember playing outside with Taehyung back when we were still adorable, young and naive. But now, we're just plane naive with a bit of dumbness added altogether. Earlier this morning, I thought today would be the day I'll leave a mark on this planet, with cloudy skies and sun rays skimming through, it was ideal. Then Taehyung happened. His phone call happened. The so called blind date that is about to happen added to the list. I mean, who sets up your own friend with your other friend just because you can? I tried my best to persuade him that it would be a bad idea since he knew how socially awkward I become around people. Heck, I even offered to make a PowerPoint presentation as to how his idea sounded like the dumbest essay paper you'd come across with. But he just laughed over the phone saying how silly I was. That twat. I am very much fine playing my role as the single fart in here but that alien of a friend of mine begged to differ.

My previous date had taught me well and left me traumatized for the rest of my life, not in a bad way but more in a hilariously epic one. I remember it as if it was yesterday.

"Don't worry he's a sweetheart. " Taehyung promised as he dragged my pastel-clad figure into a world of unknown which we prefer to call the homecoming dance. I was wearing a soft baby pink dress, like a unicorn just barfed on me. I was nervous and hopeful all at the same time. Taehyung hadn't mention a name but I didn't bother to ask either so when I was placed in front a lanky dude, I nervously searched for any sign of amusement in Taehyung's eyes followed by his boisterous laugh saying this was all just a joke, but unfortunately, there was none. I once again faced the noodle dude in front of me. Braces, check. Thick rimmed glasses, check. Horrible fashion sense, I'd give him an A plus for that. Don’t get me wrong though. I’m just not used to being the one in advantage when meeting strangers since I’m usually the awkward one.

I thought that that was the worst thing that could happen but apparently, as the night gets older, the more my unnamed date seems to be fidgety and awkward. At first, I tried to talk to him nicely. We danced for a bit even though he just kept on stepping on my toes, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Despite that, we continued dancing anyway but things went downhill when I suddenly found myself tripping over our feet as I fall and knocked over a waiter who successfully poured the mocktails over my head in accident, if you thought that's the worst then you're terrible wrong. After a few attempts of getting up and coming back to my senses, everyone around me seems to find something funny as they point fingers in my direction. Anxiously looking down, I found my self sitting over some sort of liquid that is definitely not a mocktail with my date puking his guts out.... Oh.

So that brings us back to the present. Where I'm currently watching the rain from inside my room praying to all Gods alive that a rainstorm occurs so I can Netflix my way out of the blind date. I mean my efforts of dressing up will be gone to waste but I really don't care since I didn't even bother smudging a bit of a BB cream onto my face. Deal with it whoever this as equally as stupid blind date was supposed to be. As I continued to mentally think of ways and excuses, the doorbell echoed throughout the house sounding very much like an audio from a horror movie. I am doomed. I know it.

I just do.

"Hey you! You... " I greeted even though my eyes were focused solely on the device on my hand which happened to be my phone. 

"Uh yeah, hi. " A smooth nasally voice replied. Is the news paper boy late or a little bit early? 8 hours early to be exact.

"Oh hi. Are you here with tomorrow's newspaper or are you lost or maybe a new neighbor or something because I really can't entertain any guest right now because I'm supposedly going in a date with someone in just about now... Oh." I paused as realization hit me like a bullet train, extra impact and damage, people.

"You must be jongkuk." I mumbled, a little bit hesitant. I regret not listening to Taehyung about who this other person was earlier. Now here I am contemplating and pondering about a couple of names that sound like Jong and Cook.

"Actually... It's Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook." He smiled adorably.

Wait what?

"Hey, uh yeah Jungkook. I'm Sera and I bet you didn't want to get stuck in this date neither right? Especially with a boring nerdy plain Jane who reeks of cheetos and other things. How about we call this quits and proceed on our own ways? Let's just tell Taehyung we were chased by the neighborhood dogs and decided that today is just not our day. How about that? Sounds good yeah?" I'm just hoping that my persuasiveness works just this once on this boy. I really don't wanna get wet neither do I want to go out and waste such a rainy comfy day.

"I was hoping we could go and see a movie. " The guy mumbled while he fiddles with his umbrella. My shoulders sagged but I immediately composed myself once again then looked at him. For a moment I contemplated. Well, he made an effort to dress up nicely and not to mention he was here holding his polka dot printed umbrella. I guess I'd be considerate and nice this time since I'm also already dressed up albeit a little too casual for a date.

"Alright. Just lemme get my bag then we're good to go." I responded then went to fetch my belongings. As I reach for my coat, my black umbrella calls out my eyes. Seriously I'm even manlier than my date. Just where did Taehyung got this manchild of a friend? Not judging.

I smiled at Jungkook after locking my door. I thought we were going to trudge our way to the mall. But when we reached the neighborhood park, he tells me to wait for a bit. I pouted as I watched the raindrops ruin my boots. I mean, I love the rain but I hate being in the middle of it. A moment passed then a motorcycle zooms near my spot. I’d be lying if I say that didn't give me a heart attack. I gawked as I watched the driver remove his helmet. Then came Jungkook's smiley adorable face.

Wait what again.

Never mind. You know what, I take back calling him a manchild. He's smoking hot on that motor, minus the umbrella.

"Did I scare you? I saw you jumping for like a meter away. Sorry for that. " He rubs his nape sheepishly.

Maybe this isn't so bad after all.

When we arrived at the mall, Jungkook immediately bought movie tickets good for two while I was busy choosing over cheese flavored popcorn or the barbecue one. He smiled at my form seeing the popcorn bag almost falling off from my embrace. 

In the end I chose caramel.

As soon as the movie started rolling, I was pretty much fascinated by the animated characters than by my own date, even to the extent that I forgot I have one. I laughed at some scenes then threw some side comments along the way, I was just hoping I wasn't boring Jungkook out of his wits. Once the movie ended, it was already half past 9 so it was only as expected when we heard our stomachs grumble for food.

"I really want some pizza right now." I muttered mostly to myself but Jungkook seemed to hear me loud and clear as he started to drag me to the nearest pizzeria he saw. I smiled at him once we placed our orders. For a moment, it was really awkward between us which lead me to ponder over some things.

"Why were you determined to take me out earlier? I mean, I'm really not that attractive and I’m pretty sure Tae already told you I’m boring, which is kind of the truth. " I voiced out.

Jungkook seemed to be lost in his own thoughts for a while. I waited for his answer but there was none. He just smiled at me then leaned closer. I furrowed my brows at his actions but he just sent another charming smile on my way.

Charming? What?

He took a deep breath then tucked a loose hair strand behind my ear. I thought he was going to do something funny so I watched him with a pair of eyes that can match a hawk's.

"I really like you. A lot. " Jungkook uttered leaving me stunned. I laugh nervously summoning my wittiness and sassiness to say something funny about that. But my stupid brain chose to blank out.

"Why so sudden? You just met me today? You just can't like me easily? Am I... Do I look easy to you? " I scoffed in feigned ignorance as he leans back in his seat. But the nerve of him to smile that smile of his. We didn't talk for a while, only the clatters and soft murmurs of the people around us was heard. I was uneasy though because the guy left me hanging. You know how curiosity is sometimes. 

"Come on. I'm going to take you home now. It's late. " He then paid for our dinner then we walked out of the restaurant as he dragged a dazed me along the pavement of the sidewalk. I just let him be until we stopped in front of a mini park. He made me sit in one of the swings and I just obliged.

"This is actually not the first time we met. " Jungkook starts as he sits on the other swing.

"Back in freshmen year, we were classmates. I saw you during orientation and our lockers were next to each other. But you never really noticed any of that. " He mumbled the last part.

"Taehyung befriended me because I was quite the loner back then. He was nice and he kept talking about this also nice best friend he has. I knew it was you that time. I saw you two bickering." He continues.

I searched the back of my mind for any remarkable event back then. If I ever heard his name before. I remember Taehyung mentioning his name once but I just forgot the topic. So that means Jungkook is not lying. But I couldn't recall anymore information so that leaves me frustrated at the moment because how can I even not remember this guy?

"So Tae being the “good” friend he is did me a favor. He set me up on a date with you. " He said and by this time he stood up then kneeled in front of me, gripping my shoulders and sending me the softest look I had ever seen in someone's eyes.

"I was glad you agreed." Jungkook smiled. I don't know if it was just my eyes or Jungkook was really approaching my face. His breath tickled my face as I resisted the urge to giggle.

"Remember the dance?"

“Remember that weird dude who kept ignoring you and dodging your questions, who kept avoiding your eyes and kept stepping on your feet?”

I furrowed my brows at this. I remember the dress. I remember the lanky tall dude. I remember the incident. But...

"Remember me?" He whispered.

So with that, Jungkook presses his lips against mine. I slowly flutter my eyes shut with all my previous thoughts thrown out of the window because Goddamn, his lips are so soft and he kisses me like I'm the most fragile thing on earth. 

He's a good kisser alright!

I wanted to push him away, really. But then he starts to caress my cheek and it was just so nice and warm in a chilly night so...

But wait what about the homecoming? What about..? No way.

I abruptly cut our make out session as I literally jumped away from Jungkook. He was surprised but nonetheless smiled at me despite the weird looks I was sending him.

"Who the heck are you? What the heck are you talking about and why are we kissing in this creepy park? " I said in one go. This is really romantic and all but I have no idea why I'm kissing this creep and cute of a date I have.

"Come on, you still don't remember me? " Jungkook asked then lightly chuckled. Why is he treating me like I'm a China doll when I am very much capable of kicking balls when provoked.

"Then you should answer me because I know for myself that I am very dense and dumb when it comes to things like this. " I admitted, still keeping my distance.

Jungkook sighed then sat on the grass. He patted the spot beside him so I obliged although we were still an arm's length.

"Once upon a time, there was this nerd who was very eager to enter high school despite his mediocre looks and poor social skills. He knew that it would be the start of something new so he welcomed everything, be it something bad or good, he went with the flow. Then he met this girl who just didn't give a what and walked around like a hermit. They were as equally as awkward so the boy found himself admiring her from afar everyday. In his eyes, the girl shone like she is the only being left in the world so he felt the need to protect her from all the evil of this world. He was contented with just looking at her but then this other boy befriended him. This other boy was like a ray of sunshine so they instantly clicked because well, socially awkward boy was in need of a company. This other boy then noticed socially awkward boy's behavior towards the girl so he offered to set them up on a date since apparently, sunshine boy was this girl's best friend. Without hesitation, socially awkward boy accepted. Then homecoming happened."

I suck in a breath as I tensed, remembering every bit of what happened 2 years ago. It can't be him. I mean, the dude back then was lanky and lame and very clumsy. That was Jungkook?

"I'm pretty sure by now you know what I'm talking about. " He added as I felt him avert his eyes over my stiff form.

"You were that dork? " I asked, my face shouting confusion all over the place.

"I'm actually thankful you didn't ditch me before and after the incident. Even after sitting on my puke, you still helped me clean up and didn't even laugh at me. I admire you for that." Then he tucked my hair behind my ear as his thumb caresses my cheek.

"Remember me now?"

The night ended nicely with Jungkook walking me home. As I lay still on my bed, I think back of my recent decisions in life and try to figure out just where I had gone wrong. 2 years ago? Wait, actually no. I made the wrong move when I had protected Taehyung from his bullies back in the first grade. Damn do I regret ever meeting that kid? To hell yes!

My phone suddenly rang cutting me out of my reverie. I glanced at the caller's ID then sighed.

"What? " I grumbled as I curled underneath my blankets.

"Woah there sweet cheeks. What's up with the snappy attitude? " Taehyung chuckled from the other line.

"You tell me captain obvious. " I retorted.

"I'm guessing the date didn't go well? " He asked.

"It actually did. Too well for my own comfort. How did he do that? " I asked in frustration. Those kinds of physical transformation only happen in movies. Now that I'm encountering a perfect example, you could only guess how crept out I am right now. And jealous.

"He's got a bunch of good friends that's how." The lad replied.

"I'm guessing you're not one of them right? " I remarked then heard him whine at the other end of the line.

"When will puberty hit you Tae? " Oh the joys of annoying him.

"Shut up. Did he confess? "

"Why? Are you jealous? " I teased.

"Dude I don't see you in that light so don't even bother. " He exclaimed out of frustration while I internally laugh at him.

"Maybe not me but Jungkook.. Oh I don't know..." I cackled mentally as I hear him hyperventilate out of anger and annoyance.

"PARK SERA I AM STRAIGHT YOU BRAT! " And so I doubled over as I listen to him rant his frustration about our friendship over the phone.

"Seriously though, the guy's been liking you for a while now. And for a while, I mean 2 years. " Taehyung stated after calming down from his outburst.

"He said that too. We actually came to an agreement to see where this date will take us. I just don't understand why it took him 2 years to be on a date with me again. " I wondered out loud.

"He needs time too you know. Look he’s not that lanky and clumsy and shy and awkward now. " Taehyung replied. Is that bitterness I hear? 

"Yeah you're- hold up, someone's calling me. " I informed then put our conversation on hold.

"Hello? " I inquisitively muttered, hearing soft puffs of breath from the other line.

"Hi Sera. "

And at that moment I knew I was damned.

"Heyyy Jungkook. So what made you call me at 12 in the midnight?" I asked.

"Actually, I'm still outside your house." He mumbles hesitantly. I jumped onto my feet at this then looked outside of my window, it was foggy so it's probably chilly outside. I don't even know if I should invite him in. Both my parents had gone to hike last last day so I was left alone in the house. But it would be rude if I just leave Jungkook standing outside. So with no contemplation, I ran towards our front door then opened it, revealing Jungkook's shaking figure.

"Why are you still here?" I asked. My question might have appeared a little too rude to him for he seemed abashed and taken aback, making me feel guilty.

"I mean, our date ended an hour ago, have you been sitting here for an hour too?" I asked,  softly this time.

"I was kind of thinking about confessing properly earlier but I guess I didn't notice the time. Calling you was just a spur of the moment decision. Go back inside now, it's freezing here. Sorry for bothering you." Jungkook shudders as he tries to hide his clattering teeth. 

"Oh. But... do you live nearby? There are no buses out this time and...forget it. If you want, you could stay the night." I offered as I noticed his eyes lightening up in hope. I can't even with this boy. I opened the door wider then gestured him to follow me inside. Once I hear him lock the door, I turned to face him. 

"My house is kind of small and since my parents are coming back home anytime tomorrow, I'd suggest you sleep in my room. I don't want them misunderstanding you as a burglar or a charity case. Don't worry, I can just crash down on my own couch." I bit my lip as the awkward atmosphere arise.

"It's okay, I'm grateful enough for letting me stay over. I'll just sleep on the couch.. or on the floor of your room. I'm really sorry for bothering you." He shyly says then I dragged him to my room by his sleeve.

"You can take a shower if you want. I'll just get some clothes from my dad. Maybe something will fit you but don't count on that, he dresses as if he's a hipster." I muttered as I reach for the extra comforter and duvet. I passed it to him then smiled.

"I'll come back and bring some snack from downstairs." I bade then closed my room's door. Heaving a sigh, I pressed my hand against my rapidly beating heart.

"This is unhealthy for you Sera." With a huff, I trudged my way to my parents' room then grabbed a shirt and sweatpants that will hopefully fit Jungkook. Once I was carrying a platter of cookies and a glass of milk, don't judge, I came back inside my room only to gape at the sight before me.

Forget about that forgotten call with Taehyung because what the heck!? 

Jeon Jungkook will be the death of me.

"Why are you wearing my pajamas?" I asked as my mouth remains ajar. Jungkook smiled sheepishly as he ruffles his hair using MY towel. MY PINK HELLO KITTY TOWEL. How manly. Oh yeah, and my OCD is striking in.

"I thought it was the clothes you spared so I wore it..." He innocently replied then glanced at the dangling set of plain clothes on my arms, his mouth rounding in understanding.

"I'm so sorry!" He apologizes then starts to lift the shirt over his head, momentarily scaring me.

"Woah woah woah! You are not going to strip in front of me Jeon! Put the darn shirt back on!" I cried out, trying to balance the platter I was carrying.

"I didn't know it was yours. These clothes look like they're triple sizes bigger than your frame." He hastily uttered. I furrowed my brows at him as we both momentarily stilled.

"Not that I saw your body... or I was hoping to see but seriously, You're petite and I didn't think these PJ's will fit to you.. No offence?" Jungkook rambles. I laughed at our situation as I set down the cookies.

"It's fine... I think. I just didn't expect you to wear my clothes. And yeah, they're sizes bigger than me since I too, like my dad, dresses like a hipster. You know, with the baggy pants and shirts." I said then handed him my dad's clothes.

"It's okay if you stay in those so reserve this set for tomorrow." I smiled.

"Here have some snacks. Our dinner had been hours ago so you might be hungry." I then handed him the cookies and a glass of milk.

"Thank you for your kindness." He mumbles as he bites onto a cookie. I patted his fluffy hair then realized my mistake after he stiffens.

"Okay.. Now, that, was a spur of the moment decision." I chuckled nervously then made my way to my bed as Jungkook made himself comfortable on the sofa bed.

"What made you stay outside my house for an hour again?" I asked, trying to ease the awkwardness surrounding us. The guy stiffens again then plopped down the plate of cookies as he sips the milk.

"Confession. A proper one." He answered without looking up. He fiddles with his fingers while I stayed static on my bed.

"Why?" I finally asked, tucking myself underneath the covers.

"I felt like I owe you one. Especially after the kiss. Oh and, you may have talked to Taehyung why it took me 2 years to be on a date with you again, I just wanted to personally answer you because that's how things should be and I'm a grown up now. I think." He replied then looked up at me with his piercing gaze. 

"Oh. Yeah, the kiss. So, what actually happened in those two years Jeon?" He smiles at my own nickname for him then find a comfortable position as he lies down on the couch, still facing me.

"I did some changes and learned some lessons, oh and gained some friends too. I thought that if I were to like someone, I should be able to like myself first. Two years back, I knew I didn't like myself for being me so I worked hard for my own and learned to socialize. Now I have a circle of trusty friends, I'm contented of what I am and... I think I'm ready to confess now." He states as he sends a smile on my way.

"And all along, even after having girls possibly dropping their panties because of you, you still like me?" I asked in confusion because who wouldn't? You guys have to understand that Jungkook is a very attractive young man so who wouldn't try to hook up with him?

"Nah, my feelings are mostly what motivated me to be the better me that I am now. Not only for my looks but also self confidence. I used to traipse around like I'm afraid of someone noticing me but now I can walk confidently as an individual, as me." He uttered.

"So... your feelings. I still really don't understand." I murmured.

"I really like you Sera." He confesses.

"What made you like me? Even after my obvious reluctance earlier?" I asked, sounding defensive and all but Jungkook just smiled at me.

"You still did went out on the date with me. Even two years ago, you still went through the dance after finding out how hideous I look back then, you even helped me with the mess I made. You didn't leave me alone in the middle of the crowd Sera, that's what I liked about you. You're considerate and selfless." He noted.

"You weren't hideous, you just looked funny." I muttered as I covered half of my face to hide my reddening cheeks.

"See what I'm talking about? Although you're kind of blunt, your honesty makes up for it." He added.

"I could go on and say a list of things I like about you but you seemed very sleepy so how about we call it a night and just go on another date tomorrow? If that's okay with you." Gone was the shy Jungkook.

So many things can happen in just six hours. Events like a spontaneous date, or a phone call or a heart to heart talk with someone who's been liking you for a couple of years. These are just part of the joys of youth. Some never want it to end and maybe, I'm one of those people.

I looked back at Jungkook then thought, two years were worth it for a lot of things happened and we matured over that span of time, helping him was worth it and being friends with Taehyung is also somehow worth it. If I were to date this adorable confident guy in front of me, what could go wrong? We're only teens. Just because we're going to date doesn't necessarily mean that we're going to be married to each other.

"I don't mind going out on a date with you Jungkook."