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maddieinwonder · 3 years

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The Eighth

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, this is a fluff-only zone!

Word Count: 2.3k

Plot: Reader has been in the BAU for one year and a lot has changed, especially her relationship with a certain genius. (Part 1 here!)

Author's Note: Seriously, I wasn't expecting my first two fics to blow up like that. Just, thank you to everyone who read them ♡♡♡

As for this one... I had to write a Part 2, basically as an excuse for me to write good things about everybody in the BAU and go wild with the backstories hahaha I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

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Under the dim lighting of the BAU jet, your pen paused on the small book beneath it, causing a small blotch of ink to seep through its pages. The words usually flowed out of you without inhibition, but today was different, and frankly, you were feeling a little overwhelmed.

You didn't think the team would remember this, but today marked exactly one year since you joined the BAU. As if the universe were smiling down on you, the week also turned out to be a great one - or at least, as good as it could get around here.

The team had just closed a challenging case with minimal casualties, everyone had been ordered to have a long weekend off, and the person you most wanted to spend it with was dozing off beside you without a care in the world. Of course, he didn’t know about your feelings... yet.

Closing your journal, you gave up on writing as your eyes wandered restlessly toward your sleeping teammates.

Your eyes crinkled into a smile when your gaze landed on Hotch. This was the first time you’d seen him actually asleep on the jet, and in your opinion, he deserved whatever rest he could get. Since you joined the team, you had seen the man endure countless late nights in the office. Something you had quickly attributed to the missing wedding ring on his finger.

Yet, he remained a stalwart to the team. He constantly checked in with everybody, shielded the team from messy politics, and even managed to crack the occasional joke. Of course, he was still stoic most of the time, and you weren’t exactly sure if he was capable of blinking, but now you knew the warmth and care he possessed too.

Then there was Rossi, who had defied all your initial expectations. You had thought a celebrity like him to be gracious, maybe a little egoistic, but he was straight forward and meticulous to a fault. Still, it seemed he couldn't escape his nature as a performer, as he shone the brightest in the interrogation room.

The day you first witnessed him in action, your jaw had dropped to the floor, and he never stopped bringing it up in jest. He always joked that he didn't know whether you or the unsub was more shocked, but after that day, he also took the time to mentor you in the craft. You liked to think he was proud of how quickly you were able to put it into practice.

Your eyes wandered to Emily, sleeping soundly in the next seat. With Penelope and JJ’s busy schedules, she had taken on the role of showing you the ropes, and you had become fast friends. Turns out, the both of you were eerily similar: competitive, quick thinkers who never backed down from a challenge.

Unfortunately this meant you were never paired together on cases, but you did have an ongoing chess tournament slash drinking game. The chess was your idea, the drinking was Emily’s, and you were currently winning, much to your obvious pride and the rest of the team's amusement.

The person you actually got paired with the most was Derek; effectively fulfilling the fantasies of many women you knew. But as it turned out, the two of you made a damn good team. His calculated disposition combined with your breadth of knowledge - only rivalled by the good doctor - made you an extremely effective duo, and Hotch picked up on it immediately.

You being younger than him by a few years, Derek made it a point to check in with you often, and in turn, allowing you to glimpse at his pensive, empathetic, and insightful sides. He had become a big brother to you, and you like a sister. A bond that proved to be a strong one, across the many cases you tackled together.

You smiled to yourself, eyes landing on Penelope and JJ, dozing off together under a bright pink, knitted blanket whose ownership was in no doubt. It was rare that the tech analyst came along on cases, but she was always a welcomed presence for everybody involved.

Amidst the sea of gruesome cases sent to the BAU, you had come to look forward to Penny's witty banter, either over the phone or in person. The image of her colourful outfits and her outrageously decorated office were enough to make you believe in a light at the end of any tunnel.

It reminded you of your first case, an extraordinarily challenging one that the team managed to unravel in the nick of time. When you arrived back at the BAU, Penelope was the one to drag you out to celebrate. Little did you know, the rest of the team had also gathered at the bar with party poppers and birthday cake. When you found out that Penny had planned everything, you knew you had earned a friend for life.

As you smiled at the memory, JJ shuffled in her sleep and your attention was drawn to her sleeping figure. You didn’t know how she could look so perfect even when she was asleep. But then again, you’d come to realise that there was very little she couldn’t do.

You had already been friends with the communications liaison, but working with her in the BAU was a completely different beast. Of all the chaotic personalities in the BAU, only JJ had a hold over every single one. She was able to apply the same to the local police and media, and still meet the victim's families with the utmost grace and empathy.

During her brief window of absence when Henry was born, things just weren't the same. You liked Jordan, and you knew she always gave her best, but there was an unmistakable sigh of relief when JJ was back. And although she never asked for it, you and Penelope did everything you could to give her and Will a break from their newborn, including regular movie nights in with baby Henry.

Last but not least, the one that you couldn't forget even if you tried, Dr. Spencer Reid. You had joined the BAU because of him, you realised now. But what began as professional interest, had quickly developed into a full blown crush on your co-worker.

You realised this fact on an absolutely unremarkable day, except for the fact that your heart skipped a beat when Spencer walked into the office that morning. He wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary, his usual combination of sweater vest and shirt, but when he smiled at you, your face flushed visibly and you wanted to melt into your chair in embarrassment.

If the genius had noticed it, he didn't let it show. But Derek most certainly did. Every chance he got that day, he teased you about your newfound crush on "pretty boy", and soon the news made it to everyone's ears. Emily not in the least, as she used the knowledge to win several chess games, much to your annoyance.

And still, Spencer remained oblivious. Despite how often you sat starry eyed listening to him explain a completely random fact. Despite how many weekends you spent together bonding over your shared interests in Star Trek and Doctor Who. Despite the fact that the seat next to him on the plane was basically reserved for you. You didn't think he knew, because he never made a move.

That's why you decided last week. The next time the team had a long weekend off, you would ask Spencer out on a date. You just didn't think it would happen so soon.

Midway through your thought, Spencer groaned in the seat next to you. His hands lifted to move his hair away from his face, and you resisted the urge to do it for him.

"Are we there yet?" He asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

You felt your heartbeat quicken at his voice, gravelly and soft, not fully back to reality just yet.

"No, not yet," you answered back in a whisper. "It's only 3AM. We have about two hours to go."

"Why aren't you asleep?" He asked. His head leaned back onto the headrest, but this time, his face turned towards yours. The two of you were far too close to each other for this to be work appropriate.

"Just thinking." You tapped the cover of your book with your pen in explanation, trying to look anywhere but at him. Spencer hummed in acknowledgement, the sound driving you wild. Then he did something you could have never expected.

"Hey," he began, pulling your gaze to meet his hazel eyes, "happy one year at the BAU." His lips formed a small smile, sleepy but genuine.

"You remembered?" You couldn't fight the wide smile that made its way onto your face, nor the glee that spilled out of your voice.

"Of course. Eidetic memory, remember?" He joked, gesturing at his head. Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking, but you felt like you were on the verge of tears.

"Thank you. Really."

"Hey, hey, hey, don't cry." Spencer said, suddenly sitting upright. He leaned forward as if to touch your cheek, but his fingers lingered in the air in between you awkwardly.

You brought your own fingers to your face, realising that you were, in fact, crying. A small laugh escaped your lips at the absurdity of it all.

"No, no, I'm alright, Spencer. Just overwhelmed, I suppose." You tried explaining, gently wiping the tears from your face.

"Why?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I didn’t expect anyone to remember it, that’s all.” You said, feeling a little ashamed now, but your words seemed to light a fire in the doctor’s eyes.

“Well, whoever forgot it must be stupid because you’ve made a difference in the lives of every single person on this jet.” He said in an uncharacteristic huff.

This was your chance, you realised.

“Hey, Spencer,” you said after a pause, biting your lip nervously, “what difference did I make in your life?”

Spencer looked as if he had been caught, his eyes instantly darted to the seat behind you, his fingers twitching. You tightened your grip on your pen, willing yourself not to collapse from the anticipation.

“Of course, I-I mean, many things can’t be quantified due to its subjective nature, but you did change my life."

"Like?" You pressed on.

"You gave me something to look forward to everyday." He said, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You felt your heart soar a hundred stories above the ground.

"Really?" You were in disbelief, your voice barely a whisper.

"Really. You're... you're intelligent, beautiful, and you open my mind to new things every day. I feel like you understand me in ways the rest can't, and you’re the person I want to tell everything to. There’s nobody else but you.” He blurted out in a single breath, as if he'd lose the words if he waited any longer.

Your eyes threatened to spill tears again, but you blinked them back, preparing to say what you wanted to say to him long ago.

"Spencer... I like you. Like, romantically like you." You whispered, your eyes barely able to meet his. His eyes were wide open, his eyes glancing briefly at your lips.

And in a moment of pure bravery, as he explained later, he placed his hand over yours and squeezed. "Me too. I like you, romantically."

Long after that, he would tell you that he'd never seen you smile so widely before, and he instantly knew that he wanted to be the reason you smiled that way all the time. But in the moment, he just laced his fingers with yours.

You squeezed his hand back. Feeling calmed by his warm touch, you leaned closer to him. You still had one question on your mind.

"Did you know that I liked you?"

"I figured it out eventually. Last month." He said sheepishly. "But I've had feelings for you since a month after you joined the team." His cheeks turned a light pink at the confession.

"You know what? Me too." You blushed, leaning against his shoulder.

“Another thing we have in common now,” he said, resting his head on yours.

You weren’t willing to let him go now that you had him, and luckily, it seemed like he had the same idea, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

The two of you fell into slumber easily, not even realising it when the jet had landed back in Virginia.

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to realise the interesting sight in front of them, but not even Penelope's high-pitched squeal managed to wake you up.

In the end, it was JJ who decided to end your unknowing humiliation by shaking the two of you gently. You and Spencer jolted awake, immediately taking in the various smirks and grins from your team in front of you.

"Ok, that's enough guys." Hotch announced. You noticed the small smile on his face before he turned around to leave the jet.

The team - mostly Emily and Penelope - looked as if they wanted to enjoy the sight for a little longer, but at Hotch's word, decided they would leave the teasing till later.

"That's not exactly how I imagined telling the team," Spencer said, when the two of you were finally alone. He ran his fingers through his hair in an action of mild distress, but you noticed the smile that was still glued to his face.

You leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek, enjoying the blush it left behind. "Well, that means less time with them, and more time with you," you teased.

Spencer picked up his bag and offered his hand to you. "I'm counting on it," he said, smiling widely.

You took his hand, your gaze trailing up his wrinkled shirt to his messy brown hair, finally landing on his earnest eyes. Of all the times in the past year you got to be the BAU's Eighth. This moment had got to be the best.

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notnctu · 4 years

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cupid’s arrow - h.rj | 7 days

━ sweet greetings from the 7 days fluff series

genre ❥ slight angst, fluff !! details ❥ college!au, friends to lovers!au, genderneutral!reader ━ where renjun makes a bet to get you to fall in love with him. warnings ❥ explicit language, light banter word count ❥ 7.1k synopsis ❥ The silly boy has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when he makes a bet with his arrogant friend to get you to fall in love with him. Renjun never intends to confess, mainly because his past unrequited loves have demolished his confidence. So a low stakes gamble causes him a great deal of stress and pride, wishing that it was as easy as striking you with Cupid’s Arrow. While he wants your feelings to develop organically, he actually doesn’t know what he’d do if you did end up liking him back. Because to him, you have always been someone unattainable and out of his reach taglist ❥ @yourmagnanimousholiness ; @lovelycharm05 ; @watermelonxes ; @jaehyunsjasmine ; @mjlkau <3

a/n ❥ this is author doie ❀!! uhh this came out a little more angsty than i had planned it to be.. anyways its been a long time coming and we’re still working on the requests hehehe uhh keep an eye out for some blog updates bc we are starting school soon :) thanks for sticking with us so far! lots of love for everyone<3

Huang Renjun catches a glimpse of your enchanting figure across the lecture hall and how you effortlessly slide into your usual seat near the front. The tap against the tiny turnout table with your pen, ruffling your hair to only have it fall back in place beautifully, and aura alone suffocates him.

In a three hundred person lecture, all he sees is you. The only person in the room who has his undivided attention and while it might be entirely infatuation by your attractiveness, the mutual friends you two share describe you having a heart of gold.

A heart that is impenetrable. Strong, sturdy, shining metal that no one has been able to get through, but Renjun thinks that it’s because you can tell someone is undeserving. Keen and observant eyes, it’s a good thing that his stares don’t linger for long.

As he walks down the descending steps to sit in the row behind you, he remembers a very drunk night over the past weekend and an idiotic bet that has him punching himself. He wishes that he never agreed, but the liquid pride in him could not bite his tongue.

“(Y/N)?” His friend scorns and Renjun slaps his forehead at the slip of your name. Truthfully, the alcohol is messing with his head and he’s saying things that are no longer in his control. But how could he have possibly let the one secret he holds to himself out into the small crowd.

He mumbles profanities underneath his breath, trying to limit light from hurting his blurry vision, and rubbing his throbbing temples. “Yes, (Y/N).” There is no confidence in his voice at the whisper of your name.

“Dude, (Y/N) is way out of your league.” The headache just doesn’t have an end. He knows this; there is no way you’d ever bat an eyelash at him first. Renjun just likes things that are impossible to him, a poor habit of his.

“I bet I could get (Y/N) to get with me first before you ever can.” Then, Renjun’s eyes shoot open wide and the view of the arrogance laughing in the dimness slowly boils his blood.

Renjun may seem like the weaker link to pick on, but he is not one to give up a fight. While his friend has an advantage, the last thing Renjun would want is for you to fall for a horrendous two faced personality.

He’ll charm your pants off and when he gets what he wants: the victory and your vulnerability, he’ll hurt you. Would you be able to see past his fake genuineness or actually fall for the person he plays so well? Renjun can’t let anyone hurt you if he can prevent it.

“I bet that I can get (Y/N) to fall in love with me.” Renjun stumbles to stand up proudly, making himself bolder and more intimidating. Nevertheless, the drowsiness intoxicates him and he can barely keep his line of vision focused.

He sees the disgusting smirk on his friend’s face and a hand extends out for Renjun to shake. “Okay. Let’s bet on it. If you can’t get (Y/N) to fall in love with you, they’ll be mine and you can’t speak to them ever again.”

“Nice use of claiming someone who barely knows you exist.” The alcohol didn’t take away Renjun’s sharp sarcasm and the constant rolling of his eyes.

Renjun truly has no confidence at the game he decided to engage in, his only motive is to protect you from a bad guy. He wouldn’t even know how to handle the potential chance that you could like him back, did you have the ability to do so?

He never had the intention to confess to you, his heart has been broken all too much already by unrequited loves from his past. And if he had to be honest with himself, his admiration for you has become so strong that even he’s afraid to be someone to taint it.

What are the odds that the entire row behind you is already filled? Renjun’s throat closes when he sees the empty seat right next to you and the professor starting up his presentation. Other students push past him to hurry into empty seats before lecture begins, and his own feet pick him up toward you.

Like a magnetic pull, you attract him with an inexplicable force so naturally. Clearing his throat, he swallows the anxiousness that blocks him from speaking.

“Is this seat taken?”

This is it. This is the first of many looks you two will share, and Renjun’s heart pounds at his chest to wait for your eyes to meet his own for more than a second.

As if the room falls silent and everything is in slow motion, Renjun captures the very image when you blink up at him with beautiful dazzling gentleness and the utter sugar of your lips curling upwards. And he’s stunned, hoping it doesn’t show on his face.

“No.” It’s a simple reply and nothing worth jumping out of joy about, but he tries so hard to hold back the growing smile of your acknowledgement. You are being polite, but something inside of him feels giddy and like static running through his veins.

“Thanks.” Dropping his bag, he enters the seat carefully and sits with his hands folded together on the tiny table.

You examine the attentive boy, as his focus is trained on the lecture slides and the unprepared professor messing with his mic. Chuckling, “you don’t take notes?”

Renjun is surprised at your sudden interaction, completely blindsided by your friendliness. He wasn’t sure how well that would have worked, but your curiosity speaks for you. “I actually forgot my laptop today.” The heavy device sits in his bag at his feet, but he doesn’t dare take it out after the lie.

The soft ‘oh’ that falls from your mouth is too cute and Renjun clears his throat to bring him back from his daydreams of you. Looking apologetic, he shrugs and pretends to gear his attention back to the professor, who finally starts the long awaited class.

“I can send you my notes for the day, if you’d like.” The kindness in your voice does not go unnoticed, in fact, it causes Renjun to hold onto it for a little longer to fuel his undying crush for you.

“I’d love that—” Perhaps he shouldn’t have used the word love for the strictly friendly gesture. “—you’re a lifesaver. Uh, how should I refer to you as?” Playing dumb is his only way to get to you, for now.

“(Y/N). And you?” You hand your phone toward him with social media popped up to input his user handle.

Renjun introduces himself as his sweaty fingers type, and he wonders if he should have polished up any photos that may have you steering away from him. However when he returns your device, the smile that lights up your face allows him to breathe easily.

“I knew you sounded familiar. You’re friends with Jaemin, right?” Your whisper grows soft as you multitask to make conversation and jot down a few important bullet points from the slides. Renjun tries hard to dissect the information as well, but the boring tone of his professor is nothing compared to his crush finally having conversation with him.

“We’re housemates along with two other people.” His body is able to relax now that he’s broken the wall of introductions. You carry yourself to be more intimidating than you actually are.

When he peeks back over at your concentrated expression, your lip is hidden by your top row of teeth and your quick eyes dart between the monitor and your page. How are you so good at literally everything?

“A small world.” He picks up your every word, “well Renjun, since this class has basically ruined my life, would it be too much to ask if you’re down to study with me?” And despite the fluorescent lights being absolutely dull, they still dust your eyes with an enticing glitter.

He must have been staring for too long because you start your sentence of doubt, but Renjun stammers over his response. The professor isn’t quite happy with the small overlap of chatter and shoots a glare at the two of you.

That’s definitely not a good way to start, but it’s memorable. Renjun motions for your pen, and scribbles in his own font the answer to your offer:

I’d love that :)

Then, his heart soars back into the clouds once again at the grin that settles and your written response:

Me too <3

How does one get someone to fall for them? If Renjun knew, he wouldn’t still be single and infatuated with someone too good for him. He wishes that it’s as simple as the myths make it out to be, where all Cupid had to do was draw his bow and launch a loving arrow that pierces through the heart — an instant love.

But playing Cupid himself is harder than anticipated. He has no handy tools to assist him with his goals. He just has himself, lacks luster and is invisible. Can he be more painfully boring?

And he looks at you with literal hearts in his eyes. An excitement that awaits him, the true meaning of a head turner. That is you. And all he can offer is his mere presence.

“So how did you and Jaemin meet?” Looking up from your blinding laptop screen, Renjun feels the light tap underneath the table from your foot. He chuckles at the subtly adorable affection, and your own way of showing it.

This has to be the third round of study sessions you two shared, and bit by bit, he falls more and more for you despite it needing to be the other way around. The captivating get-to-know you conversation of favorites all down to your aspirations and goals.

The intelligence of you, your wisdom, your perspective. While he did not have this insight before, knowing it now only makes you more alluring. He can’t believe you’re even sitting with him in his shared living room, just the two of you.

“We met at orientation. He’s persistent.” Renjun laughs lightly and you smile in return, nodding along with his statement.

“Wish I met you guys at orientation. I was never the one to reach out to people first until college forced me out of my shell.” He hopes his ears didn’t deceive him, but Renjun had to do a double take: you said you guys, which includes him, right? You wish you had met him earlier?

But the latter shocks him a bit. If he recalls your first meeting, you were the one curious enough to continue speaking to him. “I would have never guessed.”

“Really?” There is a notable light in your eyes as you tilt your head. “I don’t seem shy?”

“Not at all…” He has to stop himself from going on an incredible tangent about how greatly outspoken you are, it gives away too much on how observant he’s been.

“I’m good at hiding it then.” You examine the soft shade of pink on the tips of his ears and his averting shy gazes. “What are you good at hiding?”

Your question leaves him speechless and gripping at any ends of answers. There are a number of ways he can go about it, but the truth is not one of them.

What is he good at hiding? His unconditional affection for you. He’s good at concealing every heavy heart beat at your smallest actions. He’s good at keeping a regretful secret bet.

But as those options pop into his head, he doesn’t want to say any of them. So, he opts for a white lie instead and hopes that the hesitation doesn’t sell him out for being a nervous wreck.

“I’m good at hiding what I fear.” You blink at him, clearly intrigued to want to know more.

“You do seem pretty fearless, Huang Renjun.” There is a brief exchange of eye contact and Renjun swears that his pounding heart can be heard in the silence. A smirk on your lips as you return to your work, he’s warm inside from the usage of his full name. And you don’t even realize the effect you have over him.

“So, you and (Y/N) are close. How did that start?” Jaemin jumps onto Renjun’s neatly made bed. The covers are now ruffled and tossed from the impact.

Jaemin isn’t home very often, but in the rare times he has been, it’s always during the study sessions with you. The first time you came over, Jaemin tried not to talk up a storm from seeing a familiar face. He respects Renjun’s relationships, so he tried his best to keep from prying at the boy.

“You finally want to know?” Renjun scoffs lightheartedly, punching his housemate lightly on the shoulder as he swivels around in his chair. With an excited wide smile, Jaemin tugs at his friend’s arm as an endearing sign of persistence. “Okay, okay. We have the same class.”

“(Y/N) really approached you in a three hundred student lecture?” A tone of disbelief settles in Jaemin’s rhetorical question. He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for Renjun to tell some truth.

“Not exactly. I sat next to them and a conversation just happened.” Renjun shrugs as if it’s nothing big, as if it hadn’t been for your curiosity that started this blossoming relationship.

“Spare me the details.” Jaemin sits up to hold Renjun by his shoulders. The pressure feels oddly crushing, like a whole weight dropping on him. Jaemin stares him dead in the eyes. “What are your motives, Huang Renjun?”

His mouth hangs slightly open from the question. “I can’t be friends with (Y/N)?” Almost defensively, Renjun furrows his eyebrows at his friend, but he can tell Jaemin has caught onto his lie.

“I heard that you made a bet with a certain shithead.” Jaemin rolls his eyes at remembering their horrible mutual, a crime to even consider him as a friend. He drops his heavy hands from Renjun’s shoulders and falls back onto the mattress.

The alarming expression of grave danger, Renjun is screwed. He gulps the gathered saliva in the back of his mouth, searching for a plausible explanation. “I was drunk.” He slaps his forehead at the stupid reasoning as Jaemin shoots upright to begin scolding him.

“Let me explain,” Renjun covers his mouth to halt Jaemin’s excessive nagging. “I like (Y/N), that’s how the bet even came alive. I slipped up and then he was saying all this stuff about (Y/N) being out of my league.”

“Which is true.” Jaemin adds, quite muffled but doesn’t slip past Renjun.

Renjun glares and thanks him sarcastically. “I made the bet to protect (Y/N) from him. He was provoking me by saying that he can get (Y/N) first and since I was heavily intoxicated, I didn’t think before I spoke.”

Jaemin holds Renjun warmly, seeing that his friend needed a hug from the saddened memory. It’s all too obvious how regretful Renjun feels. “So I’m trying my best at carrying the bet because there’s too much at stake.”

A chill runs down his spine remembering the consequences. He just can’t fail. Jaemin pulls away and lightly pats Renjun’s hair. “Cupid has made you into a fool for your crush.”

“He’s made me into a bigger one for thinking I could get my crush to like me back.” Renjun sighs in defeat and groans loudly. Why does this frustrate him so much? Perhaps it’s the lack of ability to actually get someone to like him back.

Renjun has been single for his entire life, not by choice. He’s done the movie cliches of a confession: a bouquet of roses, a poster, a night under the stars. And not one has ever accepted his feelings. He doesn’t blame any of them since he still struggles with finding things to love about himself. What is there to love about him? He can’t seem to find any redeeming qualities worth mentioning.

But you. You, alone, is simply worth an honorable mention. And now that it’s been well over a month of your friendship, he can confirm that you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more.

“Why don’t you start by being (Y/N)’s friend first? Love doesn’t just happen in an instant, no offense to Cupid or anything. I mean.. isn’t it all just a myth anyways?” Jaemin picks Renjun’s falling chin and he can see the glossy eyes of sadness. They swim with frustration and guilt.

Like an epiphany, Jaemin gave Renjun a starting place. For weeks, Renjun racked his brain for an easy solution out of it all. In reality, he didn’t need any wicked form of magic for foul play. He just wants to be by your side for as long as you allow. And a part of him is scared for you to like him back.

You’ve always been too out of his reach. Standing on a pedestal, you’re something unattainable. It’s lucky that you even bat an eyelash at him. He’s admired you all too much, Renjun won’t actually know what to do if you ever did like him back.

This all stems from his inner insecurities, like a recurring thought: what is there to like about him? Or is he even good enough for you?

If someone had warned him that love could become this confusing, he would’ve sacrificed his heart for something less complicated. To feel. To love. Renjun wishes he can remove the love bow that pierced through his chest.

On a random Friday night, Renjun’s phone rings with an unexpected caller ID. He pauses the song he’s been listening to for the past hour to pick up.

“Renjun! I’m sad and drunk right now.” Your voice is incredibly slurred and he can barely hear you with the loud background noise. “Can you come pick me up?”

“Are you over on Third Ave. again?” He despises that place. A house on the corner of Third Avenue right off the interstate from campus that throws weekly parties. These parties are overcrowded with creeps and cheap booze. Unfortunately, you’re favorite place to run away to.

This isn’t his first time coming to get you. Over the past few months of your established friendship, you’ve sent him numerous amounts of drunk texts calling for him. This is the first time you actually called, preluding to a really rough night you’ve been having.

You sigh into the receiver, “you remembered.” like you’re on the verge of tears, he can hear the quiver in your tiny voice.

“I have your location, idiot.” Renjun smiles at your silly drunk reactions, finding you more enduring from the innocence. “I’ll be there in a blink.”

“Okay, I’ll close my eyes so I can open them to you.” You giggle before hanging up and Renjun can’t keep the widest grin off of his face. He’s rushing out his door, not wanting to wait another second to see you.

One thing Renjun realized after finally growing close enough to you is that through all his infatuation, you’re still a human. While he thinks of you in a sparkling cascading glitter waterfall, you’re made of the same softness that Renjun has. You’re not perfect and he needed to stop idolizing you as if you’re some shiny trophy.

No, he’s learned that he needed to love you for who you truly are. And the moment he broke down your layers, the glass tears that fell from your cheeks were real. The pain through your confident façade, Renjun needed to love you at your lowest.

He saw you for you, not the attractive person from his lecture he drooled months over. You are the exact reality that movies are afraid to portray. You’re courageous, chic, charming. But you’re also shy, soft spoken, and silly. You’re like waking up during dawn and marveling in the silence of a sleeping society. You’re also like smiles on a sunny day and living in the moment.

Renjun is lovestruck, wildly in love with all that you are. The only thing that brings down his spirits is the lingering bet he made several months ago and he hates how it’s always gnawing at him. It’s like an echo, bouncing off the walls of his mind. He can’t shake it off. Most of the time, he tries to focus the moment in front of him, but it has him tossing and turning in the middle of the night.

Without much surprise, you stand in front of the overflowing party house with eyes cutely squeezed shut. A friend by your side to wait with you. “Open your eyes.” Renjun yells as windows roll down and he double parks the car.

Your eyes gleam in the darkness and bidding your friend a quick goodbye, you jump into the familiar vehicle and embrace your good friend with a longing hug. Renjun chuckles at your adorable actions, patting your shoulder lightly. Despite the cheerful welcome, the mood immediately shifts when he hears your tiny sniffs and feels the tears on his shirt.

“C’mon, your favorite ice cream flavor is waiting for you at my place.” As he whispers positive affirmations, you can only cry harder into his chest. “You’re not feeling too good tonight, are you?”

It’s way too obvious of a question to ask, he knows. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say and comforting is not his strongest skill without it turning it into a life lesson. He knows what you need, just someone to acknowledge how you’re feeling and to listen.

“I’m feeling the worst tonight. I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe later?” You pull away from his arms, even if he isn’t ready to let you go. He helps buckle your seatbelt and wipe any remaining wetness on your cheeks.

Your hand briefly touches Renjun’s which causes the boy to freeze at the sudden action. Your hazy smile is unclear, but you lean into him before he can process all the randomness. A kiss on his cheek, the most delicate feeling of lips on skin.

Renjun explodes inside, like hazardous fireworks on a cloudy night. He wants to enjoy it, but his circumstances make it difficult for him to. “Thanks for coming to get me.” Your body slumps back onto the seat, a pout on your lower lip. Renjun shifts awkwardly in his seat, buckling his seatbelt to begin the ride home. He can’t find the words to say.

You’re being too casual about what had just happened, as if you’re ignoring it all. Or you simply have no control over anything that you’re doing. “Let me tell you a secret, Injunie.” The sugarcoated nickname. You’re definitely too drunk at the moment, and whatever you do now will be long forgotten the next morning.

Renjun still doesn’t say anything, relishing in the kiss on the cheek just seconds ago. His fingers lightly touch his face, grazing upon the very part your lips came in contact with. He’s truly through the moon and— “I used to have the biggest crush on Jaemin.” Renjun abruptly steps on the brakes, whipping the both of you in your seats.

His heart is falling, it’s plummeting and he can’t do anything to save it. “I really didn’t expect such a surprised reaction.”

Renjun clears his throat. “I’m just caught off guard.” Not a lie, he really wasn’t expecting a confession and his heart to break right at this moment. “Why Jaemin?”

He knows why Jaemin. He’s a social butterfly with no caution to the wind and a heart made of pure kindness. A welcoming friendly figure that won’t hesitate to feed into someone’s need for words of affirmation. Not to mention, Jaemin has a good few inches above him and looks of a poster kpop idol. Of course, you liked Jaemin.

“He has such a good heart. I guess I just like guys who think of me first, as selfish as that sounds. I don’t prioritize myself, so it would be nice if someone else did.” You fiddle your thumbs and Renjun is impatiently tapping his fingers against the wheel.

The red traffic light before you enacts two different feelings. Renjun wants this ride to end as fast as possible. You want this ride to last forever.

“But, Jaemin is seeing someone.”

Your head ducks down and out the window at the shining streetlamps; you know very well about Jaemin’s love life. “I didn’t expect anything from him. I just liked him for him. He came to pick me up every time I would ask, I guess I have a thing for guys who do that.”

Renjun tightens his grip, heart pounding at your statement. You peer up to look at your friend in the lack of light. His glasses sit low on his nose bridge, a soft cotton shirt hugs his torso, and pajama pants that clad his legs. A mess bed of hair as the cherry on top.

After Jaemin, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall for anyone so easily. All of that was thrown out the window the very first night Renjun came to your saving. Despite contrary belief, your heart is not as impenetrable as people make you out to be. And as tough as you can be, it was too hard not to be the slightest interested in him.

Ever since your first meeting, Renjun has always been cool and collected. He’s a hothead at his best, but too playful for any serious damage. Renjun reminds you of yourself. Like a huge impenetrable wall built against any trouble to enter, he is as guarded as you are. He’s timid, and while you had tried your best to hide your own, Renjun simply embraces that part of him.

Renjun stayed after every tearful night. He’s helped you through every difficult study guide, if anything he saved your failing grade.

Renjun puts you first throughout anything; asking if you want the booth seat at restaurants, strategically walking on the outer side so you can avoid driving cars, always has your favorite snacks without you asking. Every tiny gesture, may you be slightly delusional, seemed as if he loved you. And if he did, you wouldn’t mind one bit because you wanted to love him back.

“What about you? We’ve never really talked about our love lives before.” You speak up in the silence, Rejun being awfully quiet tonight. He hopes you don’t blame him, but everything has been too overwhelming. He is no longer sure on what he wants to do or how to react.

“My love life is too sad to talk about.” He’s never wanted to talk about it with you, in case he’d slip up and say something too revealing. “It’s a long list of unrequited loves. I’ve given up on professing my feelings to someone at this point.”

“What would have to happen to get you to confess?” Your eyes coin a mischievous twinkle.

Renjun feels his palms grow sweaty, a bit nervous with this conversation topic.

“Something catastrophic.”

Something catastrophic did end up happening. Renjun wishes he could disappear, or if he runs away, would anyone notice?

He stands behind your fuming stance. In any other given situation, Renjun would be more than flattered that you’re standing up for him. However in this case, you’re making a fool out of yourself on his behalf.

“Oh, so you haven’t told (Y/N) about the bet?” Of all the nights Renjun decides to accompany you on a Friday evening, he runs until the one person he never wanted to come within ten feet to.

Truthfully, the night was going well. He ran into a few of his other acquaintances from his club, others from his classes. You held onto his arm the moment you two entered the party, afraid to lose this precious boy in the dense crowd. People walked by and expressed how cute you two looked together.

You poured him drinks that will make his head throb and you busted dance moves that made his heart throb. You were the epitome of a fun time, like an explosion of positive endorphins. Your toothy smiles. Your bright electrified eyes. Your sweet laughter. This was the last beautiful image he had of you before everything came falling apart.

“What bet?” You quickly turn around to face Renjun. His hand scratches the back of his neck and his gaze stays staring at his own feet. Your throat grows tight from Renjun’s hesitation.

“He made a bet with me that he could get you to fall in love with him.” Please stop talking, Renjun begs in his thoughts. He tightens his fist, unable to form words to speak. The thumping of the loud music makes it hard to focus.

“He—” Shaky voice and stuttering… even you are having doubts of Renjun’s character. “He wouldn’t do that.” Your eyes bounce between him and Renjun.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you don't know him very well then.” Renjun’s arrogant friend crosses his arms coolly, a smug smirk unfolding on his face.

“It’s true, (Y/N). I did make the bet and I regret it every waking day.” Renjun finally speaks up, but you’re out the door before he can continue.

There isn’t another thought in his head when he’s running after you; you’re already so far down the road. The secret was bound to be revealed, but he wasn’t ready for it. He was never going to be ready for this day because his first mistake was making the bet to begin with.

He should have thought about you. He should have just swallowed his pride and talked his friend out of it. Was that a choice? Could he have just done that instead of letting it fester into such a problem?

Out of breath and out of mind, Renjun calls out your name. When you spin on your heels to walk toward him, his heart reaches for you. However, you push at his chest and he almost falls backwards.

You’re angry, more than angry. You’re upset. You have every right to be. “What were you thinking, Renjun?” There is a small crack in your voice and he can see your tear stained cheeks under the moonlight. “Am I even your friend? All this time… you had an agenda. Were your actions all fake, then? You wanted to manipulate me into falling in love with you?”

Your words are hitting like large bricks. You are questioning the past five months of your friendship and everything Renjun has ever done for you. A false reality, Renjun didn’t actually give a damn about you. He wanted to prove some odd male status. Could you be any more blind?

“Please let me explain… I was drunk out of my mind that night and the bet I made was stupid. It was before proper evaluation. Does it make it okay? No, I understand that.” Renjun speaks with his hands, clearly panicked and frazzled by the way they waved around in the air. “The bet… I did it to protect you from that guy. I didn’t want him to hurt you.”

“So you hurt me instead?” If someone were to listen closely, they would be able to hear the shattering of two hearts tonight. On this late evening, two hearts are broken under the moon and stars.

But it’s pitiful because the arrow that struck Renjun remains intact. He still loves you, which is why it pains him so much to where he can’t breathe. The information in his head is scattered, like an alarm blaring through his empty brain.

All he knows is that he loves you. You are the one thing he’s afraid of losing. From the first words you two exchanged, his fear that he hid all too well is and always will be losing you.

“That was not my intention ever. I never wanted to hurt you.” Renjun takes a step closer, but you take one back.

“Well you did because your little bet… it worked. I love you, Renjun, so congratulations.” There is bitterness and an inexplicable amount of heartbreak that lace your venomous confession.

All of his life, he thought that if one person liked him back, he’d be the happiest person in the world. Possibly confused at how to proceed with the information, but definitely glad that someone could see any redeeming characteristics in him.

But he feels all the opposite. Your confession keeps his heart broken. If anything, it puzzles him more. “How..? Why would you ever like me?” There were no tricks, no attempts at flirtation, nothing out of bounds of being your friend. He just had himself. And if anyone in the universe were to like him, he’d never expect it would be you.

You groan, growing more infuriated at Renjun. “Because you’re everything I wish I could be. You’re level-headed and insightful. You’re calm and cool, without any necessary arrogance. The way you make me feel… I feel important to you, at least, I thought I was.” Your voice continues to drop softer and softer, “how could I not like you?”

The butterflies could not come at a better time. Hearing you compliment him when he found it difficult to look past his own self deprecation, he’s beyond any levels of shock. Nevertheless, he feels apologetic and knew that this is all too good to be true.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), for making that terrible bet. But, I need you to know one thing: our friendship was genuine. All I’ve ever wanted these past months is to make sure your sweet smile stays resting on your beautiful face.”

“Why? You didn’t know me! You used me for some … pride gamble. I was nothing to you the day you made that bet.” You shout harsh words at him, and Renjun can’t hold back any longer.

This is what he meant by something catastrophic. When he’s pushed to the edge of a cliff, all his buttons are pressed aggressively. Everything falling apart. The loose ends coming undone all too quickly to grapple. He never wanted it to come to this.

“That-That’s not true! I loved you long before that regretful night! You mean every single moment of happiness to me. You’re every ray of sunshine that kisses my skin, every blue sky that reminds me of good days. You mean everything to me.” Genuine words pour from his lips, hoping that you’ll understand what’s left of his heart.

“You’re confessing?” You gasp, practically dazed at the amount of metaphors he compared you to. “Something catastrophic.” A small moment of recollection and a mumble under your breath, you’re understanding what he meant by the phrase he used several nights ago.

“Yes because I can't lose you. I’m a mess of feelings at the moment, but I just know that I’m scared to wake up to days without you in them.” Renjun pleads, the night air causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. His eyes are full of melancholy and fear as he waits for your response.

And you want to forgive him, but would that mean your heart is being too easy? You feel lingering pain, but your eyes reflect Renjun. “To think I thought you were pretty fearless.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes at him and are completely unsure what to do next.

Nevertheless, you’ve wanted someone like Renjun at some point in your life. You hoped for better days and those didn’t start happening until you two met. Renjun went from being your distant study partner to being your number one person to call. He’s wiped more tears than any boy has.

The difference between Renjun and Jaemin is while Jaemin is known to have an extravagantly warm presence, Renjun’s is hidden underneath all the quietness. Like a breakthrough, getting through Renjun felt like getting through to yourself. You needed him to aid in your own self love.

All you’ve ever wanted is to be seen and Renjun saw you.

“I forgive you.” Renjun can finally breathe and rest his tense muscles. But when he reaches for your hand, you take it away. “But it doesn’t mean we are okay. I’ll approach you when I’m ready.”

It’s not easy to love as it’s not easy to pretend that everything can go back to normal after being hurt. You need him to understand that, would he wait for you? The many others before didn’t.

“Okay.” That is all he can say, in the midst of a defeat, he still wishes that you’d stay by his side. But he wrestles that desire with transparency and having organic feelings. Nonetheless, he values the latter. If you did really somehow manage to love him, you’ll come back when you’re ready. He knows. He understands. He sees you through and through.

And he watches you disappear back into the house to find a friend to drive you home. He loves you, but love can also be consequential.

It’s already midway into the school semester and not that Renjun is counting or anything, but it’s been practically a whole month since the night at the party. He’s done nothing, except sigh in despair and reminisce about the memories before they were ruined.

While Jaemin’s efforts to console him are much appreciated, it doesn’t do much for the fact that you haven’t acknowledged Renjun’s existence for a whole thirty days.

And although he’ll wait a lifetime for you, the question of when he should move on ponders his clouded thoughts. His intensively agonizing desire of wanting to be by your side has dwindled down now. Renjun just wants to see you happy.

“Hey Cupid,” It’s a newly despised nickname coined by the one and only person who knows how to push at Renjun’s buttons — Lee Haechan. Haechan knocks obnoxiously at his door and does not wait around to hear an answer, “get your sad face out here.”

“Go away, Haechan. I’m not in the mood.” As Renjun mindlessly skims over his calendar for important dates, he is pained by the reminder of your upcoming birthday. You had marked it yourself a while back and specifically told Renjun that his attendance is entirely mandatory.

Times have changed now, right? You’ve been radio silent for weeks and as much as he hates to say this to himself: you probably don’t remember making such an assertion. Why would you? You’re most likely not thinking about him anymore anyways and maybe that’s for the better.

“Hey! Lovestruck Asshole, I’m not going to tell you again. Get that arrow out of your ass and come outside now.” Just the demand alone in Haechan’s voice irritates Renjun enough to where he’s storming to open his door.

But what it reveals is not the smirk of his annoying housemate, instead, it is the image of the very first time Renjun ever laid eyes on you and the moment Cupid’s Arrow struck right through his heart. It’s a rush of nostalgia that surges through his veins.

You sit with a hand underneath your chin and elbow pressing into a flat surface for support. The dazed stare of daydream as you’re unaware of your surroundings, yet still waiting for something exciting to catch your attention. And just how lovely you look in the softest rose colored shirt and how your lips, still barely glistening from a quick swipe of your tongue, are slightly agape into an expressionless rest.

All before your eyes trail to the distraction of another body entering the room and for a brief second, make eye contact with Renjun as he’s all the more astonished by your grace. Then like a scene that’s imprinted in his head too clearly, your gaze drops back down to the floor and you’re back to your inner thoughts.

As if the pierced arrow in his heart is triggered, Renjun rediscovers the feelings of a newfound infatuation — a crush. Though baseless except in regards to physical attraction, he’s nonetheless amazed by how quickly you take his breath away… again.

Unlike the first memory, you actually speak to him as you’re now familiar with the starry eyed boy. “It’s been a while.”

The color in your voice that he’s missed hearing is pure music. He clears his throat as if he’s afraid of his own vocal chords breaking from nervousness.

“H-Hey, yeah. It’s been a while.” Renjun repeats dumbfounded that you’re even sitting in his shared living room.

“How have you been?” There you are being polite, but the giddiness still runs like static through his veins at being asked about his well being.

“Lost.” He blurts out the first word that comes to mind. Perhaps, he should stop using words with such heavy implications to friendly gestures. Your head immediately pops up and he scrambles to correct himself. “I mean I’ve been distracted lately.”

“Sadness really does take its course.” You tread lightly, testing the waters with a small grin. The atmosphere is oddly comforting, like feeling you can’t quite replace.

Renjun looks rather rough around the edges, but you don’t blame him since you did show up unannounced. However, the glint in his eyes is much of a delight to see. The way his small mouth curves into the tiniest smile and the gentleness in his regular cadence remind you of past long days full of laughter. The best part of them all — you spent them together.

“My birthday is coming up soon.” Jumping straight to the point of your visit, you stand up to approach him. “I plan to host a small party… and I remember saying a while back that your attendance is mandatory.”

Renjun catches his breath in his throat and he could run gleeful laps around the room if it isn’t for the poorly spaced complex. “So are you still down, Huang Renjun?”

“I’d love that.” He smiles greatly at your offer and as simple as that, your arms wrap around his torso into a long awaited embrace.

“Me too.” You mumble into his shirt and take a deep breath of his lavender scented detergent, “I’m ready. I’m ready to have you in my life. I’m ready to laugh with you. I’m ready to lay in your company. I’m ready to give you my heart.”

As you finish your last sentence, his arms wrap around you too and pull you into a tighter hold. “You have always had mine.”

Renjun can finally remove the arrow that unforgivingly stayed stuck in his heart for the longest time. Your reciprocated love fills up the hole that is left behind. He can now love you with a full and whole heart.

#nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct #renjun #renjun scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct dream #huang renjun #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream imagines #huang renjun scenarios #7days

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hyuniepot · 3 years

Text

the butterfly effect. || chapter one

chapter word count || 3,214

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

a/n || reposting this chapter because tumblr made it glitch out for some reason ;-; praying everything works out this time!! as always, send me a message or an ask to be added to the taglist.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

Yes, the thought of it is silly, but you were. You didn’t like bugs at all, the pretty ones included. The thought of them crawling on your skin made you ill. But there was one thing you loved, and that was your friend, Mark. And unlike you, Mark loved butterflies. So when he asked you to go to a butterfly exhibit with him, you sucked it up and said yes.

And you realized that day that butterflies were beautiful. They were harmless, and you giggled as they landed on you, excitedly showing Mark as you conquered your fear of them. Mark helped you conquer a lot of your fears.

And ever since he left, you felt more fearful than ever. Losing him made you realize how fragile life really was, and you hated it. You hated feeling like everything was on the verge of being lost.

“You good?” you jump at the sound of Jaemin’s voice in your ear. You blink, realizing you had completely zoned out. You were sitting next to him on the bus to school. You quickly glance out the window once more. The butterfly you had been admiring was gone.

You nod. “I’m okay. Just tired.” you respond.

Jaemin grins and grabs onto your hand. “Okay. Just checking in.” he says softly. “Um, we’re all gonna get food after school if you wanna come. It’s just a really nice day, it’d be a shame not to go out in it, you know?”

Truth be told, you had been feeling weird lately, and going out with your friends (or, to be more accurate — your boyfriend and his friends that you were friends with by association) was probably what you needed. “That sounds nice.”

The bus had arrived at school. Jaemin stands and picks up his bag, letting you out in front of him. You exit the bus and you’re met with the warm air enveloping you, the sun hitting your eyes and making you squint. Jaemin exits the bus as well, his frame blocking the sun from blinding you. He puts his arm around you, and you grab onto his hand out of instinct.

“Hey guys, got room for more?” you feel another arm around your shoulder.

“Hyuck, no. You’re gross.” Jaemin groans, rolling his eyes.

Hyuck gasps dramatically. “That’s mean. You didn’t even consult with your girlfriend first.”

You smile. “Sorry, Hyuck. But I’m only interested in Jaemin.” you tell him.

Hyuck removes his arm from your shoulder and crosses his arms. “What a low blow…” he mutters. Hyuck was your childhood friend. He grew up with you and Mark. He was like a happy virus, and you weren’t sure if you would have survived losing Mark if he hadn’t been there for you.

You giggle. “Sorry to break your heart.”

“You’d think after months of being rejected he’d give up, but he’s a trooper.” Jaemin adds.

Hyuck rolls his eyes this time. “It’s only because you guys are gross and kissy-kissy in public. We’re in school,” he says, moving away from his spot next to you. He puts himself in between you and Jaemin. “Leave room for Jesus.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” you laugh. “You are so annoying. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” you tell him.

Hyuck grins and sticks out his tongue, turning down a hallway as you guys pass it. “You’re damn right you’re lucky,” he calls. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jaemin shakes his head, laughing. “He’s such a weirdo. Love him, though.”

You reach your locker and lean against it. “He is. You learn how to deal with him after so long. I’ll meet you outside the entrance doors after school. Do you guys know where you’re going to eat?”

Jaemin leans up against the locker next to yours. “Nah, not yet. We’ll figure it out before the day ends.” he tells you. “You have a good day, alright?” he pecks your cheek.

You smile. “I will.” Jaemin gives you one last grin before turning and continuing down the hallway.

[12:39 p.m.]

“What kind of weird shit do you read at night?” Naeun asks, scowling at Jiwoo.

“It’s not weird!” Jiwoo cries, turning her phone screen towards the dark-haired girl. “There’s real proof!”

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, taking a seat next to Naeun.

“Apparently there’s an app that can change your fate,” Sungyeon speaks up, holding back a laugh. “Jiwoo found it.”

Jiwoo turns her attention towards you. “See! You’ll believe me, right?” she turns her phone to you.

You furrow your brows and decide not to answer her question. You read the article she had pulled up.

According to the 13-year-old who downloaded the app, ButterFly, his wish came true a mere 3 hours after sending it into the ButterFly HQ. The young boy wished for his cat to come back to life, who had been dead for nearly a month. A few hours later, a cat showed up at the boy’s window. It was identical to the one the boy had.

ButterFly, a self-proclaimed life changing app has been growing in popularity as people hope to change their past. But the real question is, does this app really change a life or is it simply coincidence?

“Jiwoo…” you say softly.

“Come on,” she whines. “I can’t be the only one who thinks it could actually be real!”

“I’m afraid you are.” Sungyeon tells her, taking a bite of her food. “It’s just a coincidence. The only success story they have is something so… normal.”

“If they want to impress me, they have to come up with something way more exciting than a kid finding his cat.” Naeun says.

Jiwoo pouts, turning off her phone. “But… it’d just be so cool if it was real.”

“I agree, but an app should never be trusted for something like that. Plus, if an app had the powers to change the trajectory of someone’s life, wouldn’t the butterfly effect happen?” you asked.

“She’s right,” Naeun says. “Fate is not something to play around with.”

Dejected, Jiwoo surrenders and turns her attention back to finishing her lunch.

“What is that again?” Sungyeon asks. “The butterfly effect?”

“The idea that even tiny changes can make huge and unexpected changes,” you explain. “Like a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a typhoon.”

“Hmm,” Sungyeon hums. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, like if Jiwoo was born as a boy, maybe she’d be dating you and you’d be a millionaire for some reason.” Naeun takes a drink from her water bottle.

“What?” Sungyeon cringes.

“Hey, what’s that face for?” Jiwoo cries. “I think I’d be a cute boy.”

You laugh and shake your head as your friends continue to playfully banter about who would be the cutest boy in a parallel universe.

[3:30 p.m.]

You stand by the entrance doors, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try not to look too awkward as you wait for Jaemin and his friends. You wave to Naeun as she leaves, and are relieved when Jaemin appears a few moments later. He immediately spots you and makes his way to you, smiling. His friends, Jeno and Renjun walk behind him with Hyuck, loudly talking about something.

“Hi,” Jaemin says. “Did you have a good day?”

You grin. “It was fine. How about you?” you start walking away from school, taking hold of his hand.

“It was good. I have some annoying homework, but…” he trails off.

Renjun suddenly runs past you, turning around with a disgusted look on his face. “Hyuck, for the last time, I will not hold your hand!”

You turn your head to see a pouty Hyuck. “I just wanted to fit in!”

You laugh and roll your eyes, turning your head back towards the sidewalk in front of you. You all make your way to a nearby restaurant. You sat next to Jaemin in a booth and Jeno, Renjun, and Hyuck all squeezed into the one across from you. You all ordered drinks.

“Oh, Jaemin,” Jeno says, picking his bag up from the floor. He pulls out a notebook and hands it to Jaemin. “Thanks for your notes.”

Jaemin nods. “No problem.”

“Jeno,” Renjun says, shaking his head. “You’re never gonna learn if you keep copying Jaemin’s notes.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s not like I do it all the time,” he says, defending himself.

“You borrow my notes, too, though… so Renjun kinda has a point.” Hyuck says, leaning back as the waitress sets his drink down in front of him.

You pull out your phone as the boys argue yet again just to see what was happening on your social media. It was mostly random tweets and posts from people you knew, but there was something that caught your eye. It was a promoted post from ButterFly. It had no likes or anything, despite being promoted to your Twitter timeline. And it wasn’t just one. After a few scrolls, you saw another ad from the app, just with a different caption. You saw another one before shaking your head and exiting the app. You opened Instagram, just to be met with the same ad.

Don’t be afraid. Having the chance to change your fate is much more fun than you think.

The caption sent chills down your spine. It didn’t sound like something that should be promoted. You clicked the link the ad provided, but it simply took you to the app store. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. You wanted to download the app, but something was holding you back.

Jaemin nudged your shoulder, making you jump.

“Huh?” you ask. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Do you want something to eat?” Jaemin asked.

“Oh,” you look at the waitress next to the table, notebook and pen in hand. “I’m okay.” you reply.

The waitress nods before turning around and entering the kitchen. You stand up from your seat at the booth. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You shoved your phone into a pocket on your bookbag and rushed to the bathroom.

You shut the door behind you, walking to the sink. You looked at yourself. You looked tired, disheveled. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling you had felt since waking up. You could barely even describe it. It almost felt like dread, but it was more of an unexplainable sadness. Not even being with your friends seemed to help it. You turned on the water, splashing your cheeks with cold water. How had you been so enchanted by the ads of that app that you had become completely oblivious to what was going on around you?

You dried your face before you heard a small knock on the door. “Hey, are you okay?” You opened the door and saw Jaemin. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry…” you say, stepping out of the bathroom.

“You’ve been acting… strange today. No offense,” Jaemin says.

“None taken,” you sigh. “I know I have. Everything just feels off today, I don’t know why.” You tell him.

Jaemin puts his arm around you and you both begin walking back to the table the others were at. “It’s okay to feel that way… I think everyone does. It just sucks to watch you feel so sad.” Jaemin says. He sighs. “I really hope you start feeling better soon. I miss hearing your laugh.”

You smile. “I miss it too,” you say, reaching the table. Jaemin scoots into the booth and you follow after. You try to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach and have a good afternoon with your friends. You ended up starting to feel better. You stole some of Hyuck’s food after panicking and not ordering some of your own. You laughed at everyone’s jokes and dumb arguments, and before you knew it, an hour had passed. You all decided to stop being a bother and leave. You waited outside as everyone paid; Jaemin offered to pay for you since all you got was a drink.

“Are you heading home?” Jeno asked Jaemin.

He nodded. “I’m gonna walk this one home and then head home myself,” he said, resting his head on yours.

Jeno nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Renjun and Hyuck also waved goodbye. They were all going to Jeno’s. You went your separate ways, and as much as you loved them, you were glad to be alone with Jaemin. Your house wasn’t too far, but even if it was just a few minutes, you were glad to be with him.

“Are you just gonna go home and do homework?” you ask.

Jaemin nods. “Yeah… it’s probably gonna take some time.”

“Sorry baby,” you say. “I’ll facetime you once my mom gets home,” you tell him.

Your mother worked late, so you were in charge of looking after your younger brother, Jisung, until she got home. He was only 2 years younger than you, so it’s not like it was hard, but you still felt obligated to keep tabs on him.

“You don’t have to,” he says. You both walked through your driveway and to the front door. “But if you want to, however… I would love it if you did.” he grins as you open your door.

“Well, then expect a call later,” you say, grabbing both of his hands.

Jaemin leans in and kisses you, and for a second, it feels like everything is okay.

“Gross!” a voice yells. You jump away from Jaemin and turn around.

“Jisung, your sister and her boyfriend are smashing their faces together again!” Chenle, who was standing in the kitchen, yells. Jisung’s pokes his head around the corner.

“Shut up, Chenle.” you say, grinning. “You’re not a child, kissing isn’t that weird.”

You step inside, taking off your shoes and setting your bag down. Jaemin steps in behind you and walks to the kitchen, putting Chenle in a headlock. “You little jerk,” Jaemin teases.

Chenle giggles, trying to get out of Jaemin’s arms. You walk to the living room where Jisung had gone, continuing his video game. “How was your day?” you ask.

“Good.” Jisung says, eyes still glued to the TV.

“That’s good,” you look back to the kitchen and see that Jaemin has released Chenle, and is now talking to him. “Do you have homework?”

Jisung nods. You watch the TV, and watch his character die. Jisung sighs and sets the controller down, turning to you. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Can you try and get it done before Mom gets home?” you ask.

Jisung nods. “Yeah… Chenle and I have the same homework so we can do it together, I guess.”

You nod and go back to the kitchen. Talking to Jisung sometimes felt like talking to a brick wall. “I better get going.” Jaemin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk him to the door. “I’ll see you.” you grab both of his hands again, never wanting to let go. Jaemin kisses your cheek and turns.

You bite your lip. Why was this horrible feeling back so suddenly? “Hey, Jaemin?” you call after him. He turns back around.

“I love you.” you say, almost too softly. For a second you weren’t even sure if he heard you, but he gives you that classic smile, the one that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“I love you too.” he blows you a kiss before walking away.

[9:41 p.m.]

You sat down on your bed, freshly out of the shower. Since Jaemin had left, you helped Jisung and Chenle with their homework, did your own homework, and facetimed Jaemin for a bit while he did his. And then you took a long shower in an attempt to clear your head.

You look around for your phone, finding it hidden in a blanket on your bed. You answer some unread texts and then open Instagram again. You’re met with the same ads from before. Your heart drops.

Without thinking you click the link again, pressing download. It downloaded in no time. Your thumb hovers over the icon of the app. The moment you muster up the courage to click on it, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

You jump, startled, but get up and open it.

Your mother’s exhausted face greets you. “Hi sweetie. I’m going straight to bed, so… goodnight. I hope you had a good day.”

You smile, shakily exhaling. “Today was fine. Goodnight.” you say, not wanting to delay her sleep anymore.

She gives you a warm smile before going to her room. Before you close your door, Jisung appears from the staircase nearby. “You going to bed?” he asks.

“Uh,” you open your phone, looking at the time.

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You ignore the notification. “No… but I’ll probably be in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, okay… well… goodnight then.” he says, going to his room which was right across from yours. He closes the door without another word.

You press your lips together and shut your door as well, laying down on your bed. You opened your phone and clicked on ButterFly.

1 Unread Message

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You hesitantly enter your name. You regret it as soon as you responded — maybe you should’ve used a fake name.

ButterFlyHQ

Hello, (y/n).

What do you wish to change?

Wow, straight to the point… You think.

You wonder what you should enter. You try to think of the most outrageous thing you could think of, something completely unimaginable. Something that would surely trigger the Butterfly Effect.

There were things you actually wanted to change.

You wanted your mother to stop being so stressed.

You wanted Jisung to be happy.

You wanted to stop feeling so insecure about you and Jaemin’s relationship.

You wanted Jiwoo to finally pass trigonometry.

Okay, the last one was a bit dumb, and actually imaginable. And then you thought of the most impossible thing.

You

I want my best friend to come back to life.

You almost laugh as you sent the message. But your faint smile fades at the immediate response.

ButterFlyHQ

What is your best friend’s name?

This was suddenly feeling too personal.

You

Mark Lee.

ButterFlyHQ

Understood. We will try our best to meet your request.

You stare at your phone. Now what? You turned your phone off and set it on your nightstand, plugging it into the charger before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

Great, now some random stranger knows some girl thinks an app can bring her friend back from the grave.

When you got the chance, you were gonna chew Jiwoo out for bringing that app up. You get under the covers and close your eyes, trying to sleep. But your mind was racing. You finally feel yourself drifting, your mind finally giving you some peace.

Your last thought before you finally fall asleep is Jaemin. You just wanted to be with him again, his arm around your shoulder, his fingers lazily intertwined with yours. You felt yourself smiling before finally falling asleep, unknowingly saying goodbye to your last normal day.

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lilydalexf · 3 years

Photo

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Rae

Rae has 16 stories at Gossamer. If you like MSR, you should go check them out, including (but not limited to) the fun-titled, banter-filled The Cat, an Espresso and a Bag of Sunflower Seeds. Big thanks to Rae for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It surprises me that anyone reads my fanfic at all, let alone they are reading it 20 years after I wrote it!

But in the same vein, I am still actively reading xfiles fanfic and I tend to read the older fics, or new fics by authors I recognize or remember from back in the day. I cannot explain this lack of rationale. 🤷

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

I had a great experience with the X-Files fandom! I made some fantastic friends - many even attended my wedding! I didn't really get involved in the dramas that went on. I was aware of it, but really, I just wanted to discuss my show with people that loved it like I did and read the fic, so I ignored all the other static.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Mainly message boards. AOL chat rooms, Yahoo groups, etc. We would all sign on after the episode aired and chat about it. Deconstruct it. And then we started traveling to meet each other and the real fun began!

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

It was definitely a growing experience. It forced me to step outside my comfort zone a little bit. Traveling to NYC, LA and Chicago to meet people just to fangirl with. Meeting Gillian and getting a picture with her - it was wild.

Different shared experiences that "real life" family and friends just didn't understand. It was fun and exciting.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

So I came to the show late in the game. I was sick, lying in bed channel surfing and caught the last 5 minutes of Fight the Future and immediately wanted to know why this woman was sitting in the snow holding onto this man. I spent the summer recording episodes on FX during the week and watching them all weekend and was somehow able to pretty much catch up on the first 6 seasons in time for the 7th season premiere.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

In my quest to know all the things that summer before the 7th season, I discovered AOL chat rooms that led me to different discussions on the show in general and at one point, a link was posted to whatever fanfic was hot that minute and I was instantly hooked.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I often feel like a wallflower at a party. I'm on the fringe, looking in to see what's going on. I don't bother anyone and most people don't even know I'm there. Every now and then I'll send feedback on a story, or I might even participate in a random discussion, but I feel it's a little more difficult these days without the chatrooms and discussion boards. Following people on tumblr or twitter and trying to engage in those platforms is more awkward since it feels so much more personal. It's like I'm intruding on someone's personal space. Or having to scroll through non-fandom stuff to find the fic. The message boards were a more even playing field I guess? It's hard to explain.

When I'm hardcore searching for something...anything to read, I'll refer to "The Classics" list. There are still many on there I haven't read.

I miss ephemeral.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

No. No other characters have ever interested me beyond the story we're given within the confines of the show/movie/book like Mulder and Scully did. My friends would dive into Harry Potter or Marvel or (fill in the blank with anything) and I would try to get excited, but there's nothing.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Well, Scully because she's so bad-ass. She's always so certain of her convictions. We don't see her second-guess herself often.

Anne of Green Gables because against all odds, she still sees the beauty in everything.

Jo in Little Women because she is just so tenacious. She knows what she wants.

Hermione in Harry Potter. She knows the most important thing she'll do is help Harry and there is value in that, so she gives it all she's got.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I do. A couple of years after the original run was over, I lost a dear friend (met because of XF) and then later I had my first baby and life just got busy in a very different way so I fell out of the fandom and just dropped all of it.

And then there was the revival. I waited until all episodes aired and then binge-watched them. And I did the same with season 11, but waited about 6 mos after it aired to watch it, rewatching the whole series from the beginning, first.

But now I turn it on a few times a week while I'm folding laundry or making dinner or some other chore. It's nice to have it on in the background because I don't have to pay close attention because I know what's going to happen. I've actually watched the whole series a few times this way.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I still read XF fic. It's still my favorite thing to read. I am always looking for the next great fic to lose myself in. Back in the day, I would read any pairing, any genre...I was game for anything, as long as it was XF fic. I'm a little more choosy, now, but only because my free-time is more limited. I only want to read MSR and I'm not at all interested in revival fics.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I am partial to the novel-length AU and canon-divergent stories. I love everything by Prufrock's Love and Bonetree. I have read Paracelsus, A Moment in the Sun and the Goshen/Secret World series countless times. Journal 1999 and Journal 2000 by MD1016, The Mastodon Diaries by akaJake, Blinded by White Light by Dashak, Deliverance From Evil by Char Chaffin and Tess.

I could go on all day.

My absolute favorite story is Arizona Highways by Fialka.

I am partial to Scully angst. And the Emily storyline just kills me, so when authors take those elements and write a kick-ass story, I am there for it.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

How awful is it that I had to look up my fics to answer this question? I don't know that I have a favorite. That's like asking a mother which child she favors. Maybe One of the Damned.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I won't say never, but I don't think so. I've tried to start one or two with some ideas I've had, but I haven't gotten far with them.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

No. I don't even have time to read as often as I would like to.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Usually what if scenarios - I try to work out different ways the story could go in my head. I would usually have the guts of the story written in my head before I typed the first word.

What's the story behind your pen name?

There was already a well-known Rachel posting fic when I got started, so I just decided to go with a nickname - Rae.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My husband is crazy supportive and tries to convince me to write again All. The. Time. I never hid my XF obsession from anyone, but I don't think I told many people about my writing.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I am on tumblr and twitter, but like I said above, I don't really post. All of my stories are at Gossamer.

(Posted by Lilydale on February 9, 2021)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #rae

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sometipsygnostalgic · 3 years

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Do you think Pen Ward is over AT? Like mentally. To my knowledge he isn't part of creating Distant Lands (I'm sure he could have worked on it if he wanted to) and unlike other cartoon creators whose shows have finished he rarely mentions it or draws stuff from it. I don't know if I'm projecting but it seems like Pen has completely moved on from AT and that makes me sad because it makes me think he got so burnt out from it he doesn't care about his most well known work anymore :(

I think you’re projecting a bit. Sure, some creators do get burnt out and eventually want nothing to do with their work (Andrew Hussie), but Pen’s circumstances are different.

Pendleton Ward did get burnt out with AT, but that’s because he was sick of dealing with people at press conferences, Cartoon Network, etc, not because he hated working on the show. Pen was a very private individual. He hated dealing with people on the business side of things, he just wanted to be a writer.

He stayed in the writer’s room until much later, the end of Season 6.

He did leave the show eventually, but he kept storyboarding for it even. Pen also continued to voice act, primarily as LSP, which is probably why they kept bringing LSP back so much from season 7 onwards. They wanted Pen back in the studio!!!!

Around the time that he left, Pen wrote and storyboarded the game “Explore the Dungeon because I Don’t Know”, which was an early peak at some very late-series lore. It was the big reveal of PB’s age and origin, and it contains tons of material relating to the shift in tone of the later seasons. It makes me think that the show went EXACTLY in the direction he wanted it to.

In fact the eps he worked on are some of the most unsettling of all:

Bad Timing, which has LSP bombing a castle and killing her love interest, a joke about eating cyanide gum if youre captured by raiders, and drinking to cope, with one of the most surprisingly heartbreaking endings of the series. This ep is to this day unresolved - Johnny is permanently stuck in the other dimension, and LSP has still forgotten his existence, and Peebs still knows all about what happened but can’t do shit. Also what ARE those little guys? Are they micro bacteria? They are definitely a Pen Ward idea.

High Strangeness. This is the one where Tree Trunks is in a relationship with an alien and she has alien kids, but one of PB’s rockets crashes into the space ship and infects it with little pink best buds, who tear the aliens to pieces. TT stages a coup and wants guns and makes “fascist!” signs, PB retreats the program, and says she only did it because she thinks Ooo’s going to get destroyed. Pb’s anxieties are resolved by TT sending her space husband away with the tiny rocket for 40 years, and... uhh.... Ooo getting destroyed in the future. Oh and poor Mr Pig found out at the end. He didn’t seem happy. I love this episode so much.

Imaginary Resources. This ep won a fucking Emmy! Pen Ward co-storyboarded this and it takes place in VR, because it turns out the Humans built an entire island of people who wanted to escape to virtual reality. They’ve become consumed by it and need to keep using it to cope, their bodies no longer fit to move around freely. And how is this conflict resolved? BMO repairs the VR system and sends them all back to their slumber, where they live the rest of their days. The thing all 3 of these eps have in common is they dont have a neat lil bow wrapped on them by the end. They’re not neatly resolved, and the dark situations still exist. Johnny is still dead and it’s up to the viewer to decide whether reverting LSP was the right thing to do, Ooo is still going to get destroyed but there’s hope the candy people can rebuild elsewhere, and the people are still stuck in the VR world where they’re happy but unable to experience the joys of real life.

Anyway I’m getting ahead of myself. What I meant to say is that Adventure Time getting really grim and uncomfortable with a sugary coating on the top is a Pen Ward thing, and I think it retained a lot of his identity up to the very end. I bring this up because lots of people argue it changed a lot under Muto, when in reality he just expanded on Pen’s ideas. Pen was still in the writer’s room for the entire season 5 and 6 breakup arc, for example.

And as I said, he has been constantly involved on the voice acting side of things. I think if he truly wanted nothing to do with it, he’d tell them to involve LSP less, but he seems overjoyed to play as her!

But if you’re talking about his twitter... it’s no surprise he doesn’t engage there. Historically, none of the AT crew have talked much on twitter about the show. Even Adam Muto, who could go on making AT eps for quite some time before giving up, doesn’t talk to anyone about the show on social media. It’s a big fandom, and the crew NEVER were that open. They’d occasionally talk on stuff like Formspring, but it’s a bit redundant to do so these days.

I don’t think it’s terrible. I know what it’s like to be in fandoms where the crew talk FAR too much.

I do miss the days of watching Pen, Steve, Andy and Jesse banter on twitter.

Pen probably at this point wants to move forward with new projects. Imagine looking back at your old art all the time, you’d feel embarrassed!

#adventure time

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lutrain2020 · 4 years

Text

Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Seeking7 or Seeking!

Commission: I don't offer writing commissions at the moment, mostly because I'm not sure how to conduct or present myself in the market. If anyone would like to request a certain fic or short story from me, however, I'd be glad to work out details with them. :)

Social Media: A03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeking7 FFnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/13334645/

Tell us a little bit about you!

Hiya! I'm Seeking7, or Seeking. I was born in Alabama and raised in California to a pair of the most hardworking Egyptian immigrants you've ever met, and the mixture of Arabic and American influence over the course of my life has had a profound influence on the way I look at the world. My favorite subjects are biology and english, and I aspire to become either an EMT or military medic after I graduate. In regards to hobbies (aside from playing copious amounts of Zelda), I love studying American and Ancient Israelite history, and I hope to one day learn ancient Hebrew and Greek so I can read the original biblical manuscripts for myself!

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing?

While my own brain can usually come up with a certain scene or idea that would inspire me to put paper to pen, it's the people I have around me that encourage me to keep writing. The people on FFN and AO3 who comment and leave kudos on my work mean the world to me (shout out to JoSeBach on FFN and MyWritingisMeh on Ao3 for leaving comments/reviews on each chapter of my fic "Mephibosheth"). The LU fans who come to my livewrites on the discord are so ridiculously encouraging and always let me know that my writing can actually be interesting to some people -- a fact that never ceases to astound me. But most credit goes to my younger sister. Even when I don't show her a work because it might be a little bit extreme or intense for her age, she always lets me know that she's sure it's good regardless. Her unconditional, unreasonable support inspires me to be that kind of person to other fic writers!

What got you into writing?

Three books in particular encouraged me to take writing seriously. "Crime and Punishment" was the first in this process, showcasing just how intense, beautiful, and profound a book with actually very little plot can be. The entire book takes place more or less in the head of a man wracked to pieces by guilt, and Dostoevsky's decision to focus on internal instead of external conflict changed the way I looked at literature. "East of Eden" was next. It wasn't just the book's allegorical nature or the Cain and Abel motif that astounded me - Steinbeck's vivid descriptions of everything from the human mind to sunrise in Salinas has had a profound impact on my own writing. I still reference the first few pages when I write! (actually, if you look at my fic "The Most Sincere Kind of Lie," the opening paragraph is heavily inspired by the first page of East of Eden!) Finally, the biblical Book of Job changed the way I look at dialogue and interactions between flawed characters. The whole book is almost written like an ancient screenplay and deals with heavy questions like the meaning of pain and the meaning of meaninglessness without offering direct answers - which inspired me to try and include those questions in my own writing and handle them in a similar, vague, interperative way.

What's your favorite part of the writing process?

After outlining a fic, I usually start out by writing them like a screenplay with all dialogue tags and action notes written off to the side. When sarcastic banter, silly, lighthearted interactions, or intense conversations with a deeper meaning behind them start to come together, I can't help but smile. That usually gives the the extra inspirational boost I need to go back and flesh everything out so it becomes a story! (if you struggle with writing dialogue, message me on the discord and I'll be glad to tell you everything I know and send you the multitude of resources I have on the subject)

What's your least favorite part of the writing process?

Vetting works for grammatical mistakes turns writing fics into homework! I can't stand posting something and later reading just to find out that I forgot to capitalize a character's name, or that a comma is missing, or that Ao3 or FFN messed up the page breaks and I have to go back in and fix it. I'm not a perfectionist most of the time, but when I come to writing, I absolutely am.

Whats your favorite type of scene to write?

Intense philosophical debates and serious heart-to-heart conversations are by far my favorite kind of scenes to write, and that's because they're my favorite kind of scenes to observe and read! I always leave them feeling like I've gained something intellectually and emotionally, and it's my constant hope and dream to be able to impart the same kind of introspective thoughtfulness on the reader.

What's the hardest for you to write?

Allowing or even plotting for a character to go off the deep end is always such a hard thing to write. Not for them to die, necessarily, but for them to completely lose their morals, priorities, and relationships in search for something selfish or temporary. Writing them making the same mistakes over and over not because they're stupid but because they don't care about the consequences is always hard -- it's like killing off a character and replacing them with the darkest, nastiest version of themselves. Basically, writing the opposite of character development is the opposite of fun. :(

What's your favorite genre to write?

Whatever the hybrid child of angst and fluff is called, that's my baby. I find that a combination of the two can make for a really interesting experience and give me more space to explore different faucets of each character's personality. It's also the perfect breeding ground for some intense, sincere conversations.

What fandoms do you enjoy writing for?

I don't write for a lot of fandoms, just Linked Universe, Undertale, and occasionally LoZ stuff not tied directly to our nine precious boys.

What's the work you are most proud of?

I've only gotten into LU very recently, so at the time of writing this I don't have anything from the fandom that's ready to showcase. I do have some cool Undertale stuff though, at least in my opinion! If you're interested in that, there are two fics I've poured (and am currently pouring) my heart and soul into that I'm extremely proud of. The first one is 'The Reason,' which is just a quick oneshot focused on Grillby being an amazing, hardworking dad, (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354130) and the second is Mephibosheth,' my multi-chapter pre-canon fic about the lives of Asriel and Chara. '(https://archiveofourown.org/works/23804797)

Is there a specific scene you are particularly proud of?

Going again off the works I referenced earlier, a particular scene in the ninth chapter of 'Mephibosheth' had me patting myself on the back. I can't tell you what it is, though, because it's a massive spoiler. ;)

Is there something you had to work through that forced you to grow as a writer?

At the beginning of my junior year of high school I submitted two works into a competition I was confident I would win. No, not just win, I was sure I would get first place nationally. The competition never had many submissions and I knew that the works I submitted were pretty darn good. As you can probably guess, I didn't win anything. No medal or mention, nothing. I was in shock for a good few days and considering giving up writing completely. Then I realized how stupid I was being for assuming I was entitled to an award, for writing something only for recognition, and for thinking that I should give up on something I love so much just because it didn't supply me with the endorphin rush I thought it would. I made it a goal to improve as much as humanly possible afterwards, and I'm happy to say that I think I'm making progress towards that!

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

Every gremlin-like thing the boys do in my WIP LU fic "The Most Sincere Kind of Lie" (by the time this is up, it'll probably be on Ao3) is based off something I've seen my brother and sister do. They're the embodiment of utter chaos and the manifestation of the primal urge to destroy, so they're great inspiration for Link shenanigans. Also, almost all of the banter in 'Mephibosheth' has taken inspiration from one of three places; conversations I've had with my grandparents, conversations I've had with my siblings, or interviews I've watched online. Inspiration for thought-provoking dialogue has to come somewhere that's not my own brain - there aren't enough brain cells to bear the brunt of that creative burden!

Where do you post your finished works?

I post on FFN and Ao3, both under the alias Seeking7. What's that, you say? You want a link to my profile? Well, who am I to refuse?? (AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeking7) (FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/13334645/)

#Meet The Creator #lutrain2020 #linkeduniverse #lu

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letangelliottblaneyfan91258 · 4 years

Text

A/N: Okay guys thanks for bearing with me! Here is the much anticipated update of Lips of an Angel. Enjoy Chapter 2! Please leave me feedback PLEASE :)

Lips of an Angel

Chapter 2:

The girls head out to wait for the guys. "So how long have you and Sid been an item?" Allison asks. "We started dating in late 2002. I worked for Rimouski and then followed him here to Pittsburgh where I was able to land a job doing PR as well. The day that he was drafted here is also the day that Sid asked me to marry him." Aurora replies. "Awww that is so sweet. You two look so cute together." Allison says. "Thanks, so how long have you and Kris been together?" Aurora asks. "Well we met through his best friend Luc. I am Luc's girlfriends best friend. They set us up on blind date. Kris and I hit it off and bam that is how we ended up dating. The day he got drafted to the Pens is also the day that we became engaged." Allison replies. "That is awesome. I am happy for you guys. Kris is a good guy." Aurora says. "Yes he is one of the best. I am glad he came into my life." Allison says. The girls banter back and forth while they wait for the guys.

Sid and Kris had media to do. After they each finished they showered. "So where should we go for dinner?" Kris asks Sid. "May Olive Garden? Aurora loves Italian food." Sid replies. "That actually sounds good." Kris says. Sid nods his head. They finish up and head out to meet the girls. "Your girls ready to go?" Sid asks as they reach Aurora and Allison. "Yes I am starving." Aurora replies. "I am starving as well." Allison says. "Well then lets go." Kris says. "Okay we will meet you there." Sid says. "Sounds like a plan." Kris replies. Sid and Aurora link hands and head to Sid's truck. Kris and Allison follow heading to Kris's. They both get in and head out. A few minutes later they arrive at the Olive Garde and park. "Are you okay?" Sid asks Aurora. "Yes I am fine. I am hungry but I am tired too." Aurora replies. "Well we won't be late okay baby." Sid says kissing her hand. "Okay." Aurora replies. They get out of the truck and head inside. Kris and Allison follow suit. They were seated at booth. Sid and Aurora sit on one side and Kris and Allison sit on the other. "Thanks for doing this guys. I am glad to get to know Aurora and become friends. It will be nice to have a friendly face in town when I am here." Allison replies. "When you are here?" Aurora asks. "Oh yeah I am a model so I have to travel a lot for work." Allison says. "Oh wow that is awesome. I bet you have seen some pretty amazing places." Aurora says. "I have. Milan, Paris, London, Monte Carlo among others." Allison says. "That is pretty cool. I am planning a trip during the break to somewhere awesome for me and Aurora." Sid says. "Oh you have to take her to Paris. Its the city of love and is so beautiful. Aurora will love it too since she is from Montreal." Allison says. "Actually going there is on my bucket list." Aurora says. "Well that is where we will go baby." Sid says. "That will be fun." Kris says. "Why don't we make it a double date vacation." Allison offers. "Well you can show us all the stops." Kris says kissing her head. "Sounds okay with me. As long as Aurora is on board." Sid says. "I am okay with it." Aurora replies. The guys were excited. They started planning different things. Aurora looked over the menu. They ordered soups first. Aurora and Kris both got the Chicken and Gnocchi, and Sid got the Zopa Toscana and Allison got the Minestrone. They also got the Fried Mozzarella, Stuffed Ziti Frita and Lasagna Frita as appetizers to split. Aurora got the tour of Italy, Sid got the giant Chicken Parmesan, Kris got the Shrimp Scampi and Allison got the lasagna. They also got a bottle of wine to share. "This was a good idea baby I am glad you thought of it." Allison says. "Thanks I am glad too. I figured since Sid and are become really good friends it would make sense for our fiancée’s to be friends too." Kris says. "Yes it does make sense and I am glad you girls hit it off." Sid says. They sip their wine and eat their food and chat. When they finished eating their food they got Tiramisu and chocolate brownie lasagna to split for desert. When they finished Aurora grabbed the bill before anyone of them could. "Baby girl let me pay." Sid says. "I got it guys." Aurora says. "Are you sure? I can give you money for ours." Kris says. "Yes I can treat you guys." Allison says. "Nope I got it." Aurora says. "Thanks Aurora." Allison replies. "Yes thanks Ro." Kris says. "Thank you baby." Sid says kissing her head. "Welcome guys." Aurora says. She pays the bill. They then linger a bit. Aurora and Allison exchange numbers and Aurora gets Kris's updated number. They then all head out. Kris and Allison head out to Kris's truck and Aurora and Sid heats out to theirs. Sid and Aurora get in the truck and Sid drives them to Aurora's apartment. They arrive and park and head up. Aurora let's them in. "I am glad that you have this place." Sid says. "I know baby. I feel awkward staying at my bosses house and even more awkward if we would ever have sex there." Aurora replies. "I know. But soon I will build my own house here." Sid says. "I know I will keep the apartment until it is done. And you know you are more then welcome to move in here until that happens." Aurora says. "I know baby." Sid says pulling her to him. "Sid." Aurora says. "What?" Sid asks pinning her to the wall. "I am tired." Aurora says. "Baby don't act like you aren't in the mood. I can feel your juices coating my suit pants." Sid says nibbling her ear as he wedged his thigh between her thighs. "God Sid." Aurora moans as he nibbles her sweet spot. "What baby?" Sid asks as his hands wander all over her body. "God please." Aurora moans begging him. "Please what?" Sid asks. "Don't tease." Aurora whines as she starts to grind her hips against his thigh. She needed release and he just wasn't moving fast enough. "Damn baby." Sid moans. "Sorry but you were taken so long." Aurora whimpers as she moves harder. "That's it baby make yourself cum." Sid begs her. He runs rips open her shirt sending buttons and material flying. Next was her bra. He runs his thumb over her nipple. "Sid." Aurora hisses. "Yes baby girl?" Sid asks. Aurora was really grinding his thigh. Sid runs his hand down her body, down her panties seeking out that little bundle of nerves he knew would send her flying. He found it hard and throbbing for him. He applies just the right amount of pressure. "Sid." Aurora calls out as she cums orgasm rushing through her. Sid lets her calm down. He then picks her up and they shed clothes as they head towards the bed. Sid throws her down on top of it. He then hovers over her. "Sid what are you waiting for?" Aurora whines.

"I don't have any protection." Sid says.

"I don't care I just need you inside me now." Aurora replies.

"Are you sure?" Sid asks

"God yes please Sid I need to feel you inside me stretching me." Aurora begs.

"Okay baby your wish is my command." Sid says.

He slams into her stilling a bit to let her adjust before pulling out and slamming into her once again.

"Sid fuck me hard." Aurora moans as she moves with him.

"That is the plan baby." Sid moans as he goes a little harder. "God that is it baby." Aurora moans digging her nails into his back. "Fuck Aurora." Sid moans loudly as he went as hard as he could. "So close god." Aurora moans. "Me too baby girl me too." Sid moans. "Fuck Sid fuck." Aurora moans as she cums hard. "Aurora baby that's it milk my cock baby." Sid moans cumming with her filling her up with all he had. They lay there riding it out. They make love multiple times before falling asleep in each others arms. "God that was freaking amazing." Sid says kissing her head as she took her spot laying on his chest. "I know baby but it always is with you." Aurora says. "Yes it is. So glad you were my first and I am happy you will be my last." Sid says. "Aww me too baby." Aurora says. "Get some sleep baby." Sid says. "You too my love." Aurora says. "Goodnight baby, I love you." Sid says kissing her head once again. "Goodnight baby, I love you too." Aurora says. They snuggle together falling into a much needed sleep.

#sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #kris letang #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #nhl #songfiction

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ladyherenya · 4 years

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Books read in June

I didn’t read everything I had planned. I was distracted reading other things and now I have to decide which library books I will return unread.

Part of me is stubbornly convinced I should retain my eleven-year-old self’s ability to borrow armfuls of books and read all of them at least once before the return date. Which is ridiculous. Back then I had fewer responsibilities and read shorter books. And having too many books to read is a better problem to have than running out of books.

Favourite cover(s): Thorn, Battle Born and White Eagles.

Reread: All Systems Red by Martha Wells.

Still reading: Descendent of the Crane by Joan He and Riviera Gold by Laurie R. King.

Next up: Aurora Burning by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff, and The Enigma Game by Elizabeth Wein.

One day I’ll get back to posting other things on Tumblr but for now, it’s just book reviews.

(Longer reviews and ratings on LibraryThing and Dreamwidth.)

Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett (narrated by Stephen Briggs): The wizards of Unseen University play football. This is humorous, clever, sharply observant about people -- very much what I’ve come to expect from Pratchett. I enjoyed it a lot.

Girl Gone Viral by Alisha Rai: Katrina is horrified when a conversation she has with a man in a café is overheard, twisted into a romance, documented on Twitter -- and goes viral. Her bodyguard offers his family’s farm as a safe retreat. I enjoyed reading this and liked how it’s romance about a woman dealing with panic attacks, but by the final act, its priorities had diverged somewhat from mine. It wanted to get to its happily-ever ending, whereas I thought it had raised interesting issues worthy of further exploration and slower, more complex solutions. I wanted a happy ending, too, but wanted more story first.

Blame It On Paris by Laura Florand: I’ve read a few of Florand’s romances and even though the descriptions of Paris and chocolate shops were lovely and vivid, as stories they were not really my thing. But I loved her memoir, which is very funny. During her year in Paris, Laura isn’t looking to give up her independence, travelling or career plans for romance. But then her friends talk her into asking out the French waiter she admires. Getting to know Sebastien allows Laura to see France from a different perspective, and challenges her assumptions about serious relationships, her (American) culture and her own family.

Stepping From the Shadows by Patricia A. McKillip: A story about growing from childhood into adulthood. Published in 1982 as McKillip’s “first book for adults”, I can see why this is now out-of-print. It is strange, even by McKillip’s standards for strangeness. In merging the mundane with the magical, the mythical, it attempts something rather interesting and thoughtful, but it isn’t quite successful. However, the descriptions of places are wonderfully vivid, the narrator’s emotions are conveyed with intensity, and there were moments that felt like catching a fleeting glimpse of myself of a mirror. I didn’t always like it, but I’m glad I got to read it all the same.

True to Your Service by Sandra Antonelli: Kitt is sent on a mission to the Netherlands and his boss insists that Mae accompany him. This spy-thriller is, like At Your Service and Forever in Your Service, a bit too violent for me. However, I liked that Mae and Kitt talk about their reactions to distressing events with each other. In fact, the two of them are constantly discussing their thoughts and feelings about what’s happening, including the way Kitt’s job collides with their personal relationship. I really like the way their relationship is an on-going conversation.

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer:

Cress (narrated by Rebecca Soler): Following on from Cinder and Scarlet. Cress, born without the Lunar gift for manipulation, has spent years living alone in a satellite orbiting Earth, using her tech skills under the orders of the Lunar thaumaturge Sybil and dreaming of escape. I really enjoyed this. I like how it wove in elements from “Rapunzel”, and dealt with Cress’s perception of herself as a damsel in distress, a girl in need of rescuing. There is an increasing focus on teamwork and friendship -- this means we see the characters from different perspectives, and we also see different sides to them.

Winter (narrated by Rebecca Soler): Princess Winter, step-daughter of Queen Levana, is determined that she will never use her Lunar gift to manipulate others -- even though refraining makes her a bit crazy. Meanwhile Cinder and her friends plot to overthrow the queen. This is tense and entertaining, and the narrator does a wonderful job of bringing all the characters to life. I love that the gang are so accepting of each other’s weird quirks and that the romances are given time to develop. I love their teamwork, banter and perseverance. The focus is on the characters’ relationships and the action, and both are excellent.

Thorn by Intisar Khanani: Fifteen year old Princess Alyrra is sent to marry the prince from another kingdom but en route is forced into swapping places with her lady-in-waiting. This retelling of “The Goose Girl” is riveting. I instantly cared about Alyrra, and appreciated how thoughtfully and effectively the story walks a line between darkness and hope -- between fear and trust, sadness and joy. Alyrra’s new life has dangers and difficulties, but also positive things -- satisfaction in her work, a supportive found-family. She becomes increasingly aware of injustice around her, but her story is shaped by her choices -- to be kind, to seek justice and bring change.

The Physicians of Vilnoc, a novella in the World of the Five Gods by Lois McMaster Bujold: Penric and Desdemona are summoned to deal with an outbreak of a mysterious disease. This could easily be an intense story and, oddly enough, it isn’t. Given the current state of the world, I’m glad Bujold didn’t go with the dark, harrowing possibilities and instead wrote about Pen investigating how the disease is transmitted while treating as many patients as he can. Still a stressful experience for Pen, but I was confident his worst fears wouldn’t transpire. And it was satisfying to get a better understanding regarding the best way for Pen and Des to use their knowledge and skills.

Hamster Princess: Ratpunzel by Ursula Vernon (aka T. Kingfisher): Like Of Mice and Magic, this is another entertaining twist on a fairytale. When Harriet helps her friend Wilbur to find a stolen hydra egg, they come across someone else in need of help -- a rat with a very long tail.

Battle Born by Amie Kaufman: A satisfying conclusion to Ice Wolves and Scorch Dragons, with a couple of unexpected developments and a lot of expected emphasis on wolves, dragons and humans working together. I liked the realism of this. Anders and his sister Rayna have both cool shapeshifting abilities and special status arising from their parentage. But their success depends upon the support of resourceful friends and wise, trustworthy adults. They save the day, not because they know all the answers but because they bring people together. This trilogy is one I wish I could send back in time for my eleven year old self.

Time of Our Lives by Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegemund-Broka: Two teenagers cross paths while touring East Coast colleges. There’s a lot I found interesting: Fitz’s fascination with words; Juniper’s enthusiasm and passion for the college-choosing process; the way they challenge each other; their intense family situations; and the glimpses of university life. However, I ended up feeling oddly annoyed. I was drawn into the story because Fitz and Juniper’s perspectives and motives were so very real and understandable, but something about some of their later choices and thoughts seemed too pat. Like the level of realism slipped slightly because the authors wanted to get their Message For The Teens across.

Tweet Cute by Emma Lord: Two teenagers, two business Twitter accounts and one very public argument about grilled cheese. Pepper and Jack see each other in class and cross paths training at the pool, but they don’t realise that they’re at war on Twitter nor pseudonymously chatting on a school-based app, like something out of You’ve Got Mail. This was a lot of fun -- super cute and full of Pepper’s passion for baking, Jack’s passion for his family’s deli, complicated-but-ultimately-supportive family relationships, and references to internet culture. I like how the story explores the strengths, the pressures and the problems of social media.

Text, Don’t Call: an illustrated guide to the introverted life by INFJoe by Aaron T. Caycedo-Kimura: The text offers a basic explanation of introversion. It might be a decent introduction for someone new to the topic, but I found it a bit too basic to be interesting. However, the illustrations were great! Very funny and often relatable, and in one or two cases, usefully thought-provoking.

White Eagles by Elizabeth Wein: When Germany invades Poland, eighteen year old Kristina of the Polish Air Force has a chance to escape with her aeroplane ‐‐ and an unexpected stowaway. Her journey allows for a fascinating bird's-eye view of Europe in 1939 and of the challenges posed by such a trip. This novella-sized story is aimed to be both accessible and interesting to reluctant or dyslexia readers. It has moments where I, personally, would have liked more detail but I've worked with struggling readers and I think it's so awesome this sort of thing exists.

#Herenya reviews books #Marissa Meyer #Terry Pratchett #Discworld #Patricia A. McKillip #Laura Florand #Lois McMaster Bujold #Ursula Vernon #Amie Kaufman #Elizabeth Wein #Sandra Antonelli #Intisar Khanani

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sonyajake · 5 years

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Of Being in an Interfaith Marriage

I was brought up as a Hindu and I still am one, for all practical purposes. My husband was brought up as a Christian but I am not sure how much of a Christian he is now. Joining a Christian family in marriage brought along a lot of apprehensions in my mind. What would be expected of me? Am I supposed to go to the church on Sundays? Am I expected to join in the daily prayers? Am I allowed to still worship my own deities in the house? Turns out, much was expected from me but they were ok if I didn’t do any of it either. The whole family comes together only once or twice a year. So while we are together, I try to live up to the etiquettes expected of me.

So in effect, my life hasn’t changed much owing to my interfaith marriage. I pray to my Hindu Gods and say a Hail Mary every day after my bath. I go to a temple on occasions and visit a church on rarer occasions (which was the case earlier too). I celebrate Onam and Christmas with equal élan as it was before my marriage. And I call to my Lord as “bhagavaane” or “karthaave” like I always did. Don’t let all that fool you into thinking that all is hunky dory after an interfaith marriage.

A lot had changed for me on a personal level. I identified myself as a Hindu earlier, but lots of people just assumed that I have converted to Christianity because of my marriage. Although I do not face any issues in Mumbai, temples in Kerala, mostly stipulate that non Hindus be denied entry. I am a Hindu by my interpretation but I have not stepped into a Hindu temple in Kerala since my marriage for fear of being chastised for entry. I wear a cross on my thali (mangalsutra), which is too tiny to be detected but makes me feel vulnerable to scrutiny. Maybe I am paranoid and should catch the bull by its horns and face the consequences, if any.

Another issue I have faced is my comfort level with my “maiden family”. There used to be a closeness and camaraderie in my interactions with my extended family and cousins, which took a downward plunge after my marriage. But I believe that has more to do with the fact that I went against my family to get married to a man they didn’t approve of. I am neither invited nor expected to attend family events on my side because it always involves some religious event to go along. I wouldn’t say I was surprised by this, as I was forewarned by my parents on the perils of marrying outside the community. I had accepted my fate with a pinch of salt. While I gave up on the comforts of my family, I have been fortunate enough to be welcomed with open hands and hearts into my “new family”. In fact I have grown closer to my sisters-in-law than I ever was with my own sister. My mother-in-law seems to enjoy talking more with me than her own son owing to common interests like cooking, crafts and flowers. The extended family on my husband’s side is literally quite extended with more than 20 cousins and none of them have made me feel like I don’t belong.

In an alternate reality, I would have had lived a sequestered life in a marriage arranged by my family with societal norms prescribing my attire, my weekend plans and even my social media activity (an assumption made on the basis of observing my extended families’ and cousins’ lives). So in the balance sheet of life I presume I have ‘’broken even’’ or maybe even started making profits.

When our daughter was born, it was assumed that she would be baptized since her father is a Christian. A lot of arguments ensued, but my husband was adamant that we do not want to label our kids’ in any religious way. We even named them religion neutral (Alithea meaning truth; and Zaraiah meaning blooming flower). We decided to give them the freedom to choose their religious beliefs once they are old enough to do so. This doesn’t mean that they are living a life with no God or prayers. We have a framed picture of Krishna with a rosary wrapped around it that acts as our guardian angel. My kids know that their parents follow Krishna and Christ and they are free to follow either, both, neither or any other God of their choice. We believe in making religion a personal matter that needn’t be of any significance in their social, professional or married lives. Our brief but very enjoyable stint in China helped us further this thought.

They say love is blind. But it doesn’t make one apathetic or emotionally blind. I learnt this lesson the hard way when I got married to the love of my life, all by myself. While people reminisce their marriage with awe, love and unbridled joy, I remember the endless tears, being all alone in a stranger’s house the day before my wedding and the fact that I walked down the aisle without my parents to bless me. The presence of my elder sister, my brother-in-law and two cousins on my wedding ameliorated my distress a bit. I married a non-Hindu against my parents’ wishes and no matter how much time has passed, the pain of abandonment doesn’t subside. I am guessing it is mutual too for my parents as they might still be feeling cheated by my decision to go against them despite all the comforts they provided me throughout life. Could I have done things differently? Maybe. Maybe not. But I will always regret hurting my parents for my own happiness. I do not know how my future would have been if I broke up with my husband (then boyfriend) for my parents’ sake. Maybe I would have lived in the guilt of cheating on my boyfriend for the rest of my life or maybe I would have moved on. But it would have been just as bad as my current predicament of feeling constant guilt of having disappointed my parents.

Apart from the occasional phone calls, it took two years for my parents to actually meet my husband. It has been 7 years since that awkward meeting and still the relationship resembles a broken twine mended with a clumsy knot. Kids have enabled the smoothening of our relation; but for all to be well it will take time and effort. All through this, my husband has stood by me as a stoic pillar of strength. He has never picked up a fight with me about our religious beliefs. He vehemently opposed suggestions that I should convert to Christianity before marriage. He was most vociferous about not baptizing the kids. He has never pushed me even once to mold myself into an ideal Kanjirappally achayan’s wife (except for upping my ante in non-veg cooking).

Family is a good source of motivation and support when the dynamics in the family is genial. However, any bloat in the stability of familial relationships can lead to bad blood and even the simplest banter would feel like pointed accusations. Unresolved tension between family members can turn ugly in no time, leaving you wounded beyond repair. A mended relationship may not be a smooth one but would save you the heartache of not having your family in your lives for the rest of your time in the world. I strive to be a mender for the sake of my peace of mind and a congenial environment for my family.

P. S.: One good thing I have had because of marrying a Christian is that I don’t need to refer to my “periodic table” 😜 before I plan a family event. No more heartbreaks on missing events because of “those days”.

P. P. S: This was an emotional one for me. I started my blog around four years back and have wanted to write about this topic since then. But the subject always made me too sentimental to think straight. Once I had penned all my thoughts, reading through it numerous times was proving to be a hardship. So I left the proofreading to my ever so encouraging better half.

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dcbbw · 5 years

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Timing--Part 6 (Coming Forward)

This is Part 6 of my fanfic and it’s my version of events once the gang travels to LA to find Tariq. In my version, he refuses to come forward and Riley made a painful decision. In this part, the events leading up to the photo scandal are discussed. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please excuse any typos and/or grammatical errors. PS—my Liam is Asian Liam, and my Riley is tall, like me.

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Song Inspiration: Morning Dove, Julie Byrne: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSRdGF12dDk

Tagging: @gennesaret @simsvetements @cora-nova @carabeth @hopefulmoonobject @katedrakeohd @aworldoffandoms @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty @drakesensworld @lauradowning29 @liamxs-world

Word Count: 3699

Liam X MC, Liam X Riley

Liam and Riley sat on one end of the sofa in Liam’s study. Hana sat at the other end, and Bertrand sat behind the oversized and imposing desk. Bastien stood in a corner near the window. Drake and Olivia were sitting in plush chairs on one side of the massive desk. They were all waiting for Maxwell to bring Lady Penelope and Lord Tariq. Riley looked around the room, impressed with the staff who had to come and clean up the destruction Liam had left behind before joining her at House Beaumont. God, was that only yesterday?

It had been decided to talk with Penelope and Tariq together, although Bertrand wanted to do it separately so as to minimize Constantine’s involvement in the scandal. He was overruled by everyone else agreeing that the best way to corroborate stories was to have both present. Both sides of the story gave them the full story, and with the full story, a cohesive statement could be crafted.

Liam looked calm and stoic, but kept running an index finger under his ascot in an attempt to adjust it. He wasn’t nervous, but rather he felt a growing anger. Towards Penelope because she knew what she was doing, setting events in motion. She knew. Anger towards Tariq because no matter what he had been led to believe, no meant no. Always. Anger towards Bastien because….damnit, it was Bastien. He had trusted the man with his life, his entire life and knowing that he would blindly follow orders, no matter what they were, who they hurt….Liam could not begin to grasp the concept of loyalty so blind or service so unquestioning, although that was the requirement of Bastien’s job. And lastly, anger at his Father. Did Constantine even have an inkling of what he did? He gave up on the ascot seeing as it had to stay in place after last night, and settled for clasping his hands together in an effort to calm his nerves. What a tangled web.

Riley sat next to him on the sofa, and placed her hand on top of his. Liam looked up at her, and she smiled reassuringly. Liam had not wanted Riley present; he did not want her to have to relive that night again, ever again but Riley was insistent. We all deserve to know not only the truth, but the why of the truth.

“How can you be so calm, love?”

“What else can I be? It won’t do any of us any good to be emotional, at least not in the beginning. We have to take control of this meeting from the start if we hope to get the results we need.” Hoping to lighten his mood, she gave him a coy look. “So, how do I look?” Beautiful. “You look like the next Queen-to –be, bohemian scarf and all.”

“Well, no need to cover my neck if my overzealous boyfriend hadn’t staked his claim last night”, she said in a teasing tone.

“Strange, my very passionate girlfriend necessitated this damned ascot.” His smile was mischievous as he took her hand.

A knock at the door put an end to their bantering. The door opened, and Maxwell came in, ushering in Penelope and Tariq. Tariq prepared to bow, but Liam held up his hand. “No need for formalities. We’re just having a pleasant chat. Please, both of you have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs on the other side of the desk. As Maxwell and Drake prepared drinks for everyone, pleasantries and small talk were exchanged to help break the tension.

The train ride from Portvaria was comfortable. Tariq was jetlagged from the flight. Dinner and the Palace accommodations were more than adequate. Finally, Bertrand cleared his throat. “Lord Tariq, Lady Penelope, we have asked you here to assist in fully clearing Lady Riley’s name. You both played significant roles in the scandal which resulted in her being unfairly eliminated from the social season, and being smeared and slandered by the media. Lord Tariq has agreed to speak with us and hopefully give a statement in defense of Lady Riley to the press, but before we can do that, we need to know the events that led up to the photos being taken.”

Penelope’s eyes darted around the room before settling on Riley. “You said you forgave me. You said you understood!” Riley’s brown eyes met Penelope’s blue ones steadily. “I do forgive you Penelope; please do not ever question that. However, while I have some understanding of the circumstances you found yourself in, we all deserve to know them, even Tariq.”

Maxwell noticed that Penelope’s gaze was guarded, her body language defensive. No way is she talking to us. He rose from the sofa and crouched in front of Penelope. He touched his forehead to hers, effectively fixing her eyes on his. “Hey, Pen”, he said softly. “Hey Max.” Her voice was shaky. “Kinda scary, huh? “Penelope nodded. “Don’t be”, he reassured as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No one here wants to hurt you, or call you out, or set you up for anything. We just need to know the events that led up to this huge ass mess. We all just need to know what happened. “Penelope continued to look at Maxwell, her distrust falling away. “I…..I guess I can do that. Where do you want me to start?” Maxwell ran his finger along Penelope’s cheek. “Thanks, Pen….you’re the best”, he whispered with a small smile as he stood to return to his seat.

Liam watched the exchange with interest. He had never viewed Maxwell as a ladies man; if anything, he attributed his friend’s conquests to a combination of humor and alcohol. This….this was a new side to Maxwell, and it was sparking Liam’s jealousy. Was this a ploy on his part to get Penelope to open up, or was this Maxwell genuinely comforting her? And if it were genuine, had he comforted Riley like this before? Liam flashed back to Lythikos, to the kiss with Olivia and how Riley had sought solace with Maxwell. Where was this coming from? Just 10 minutes ago he and Riley were happy and in love.

Olivia interrupted his thoughts. “Penelope, I have a question before you start. Did you have anything to do with me being ousted from the social season?”

Penelope looked at Olivia in genuine surprise. “No! I knew you had withdrawn the night of the Coronation, but didn’t know why, and no one would say anything. Were you set up too?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Olivia’s brow knit as she stared into her drink.

Looking around the room, Penelope asked, “Where should I begin?”

“How about the beginning?” Hana suggested.

“As good a place as any, I suppose.” Penelope leaned forward in the chair, hands clasped loosely together, looking down at the carpet. “It was when we first arrived at Applewood. Bastien approached me with an offer. I would be Lady-in-Waiting, guaranteed, regardless of whom Liam chose, as long as it wasn’t Riley. All I had to do was make sure that Tariq found himself enamored of Riley and in her room before we departed for the next stop on the tour.”

“Why would you consider an offer like that?” Drake was trying not to show his anger, but Penelope looked at him, startled by his tone.

Penelope looked even deeper at the carpet. “I have severe anxiety. To the point of panic attacks, and having…actually needing emotional support animals.

“Your poodles”, Drake said softly.

Penelope nodded. “My poodles. In any case, court events tend to trigger the anxiety more than usual, and the social season was really hard on me. I am not the prettiest, or the smartest, or even the most charming. It was pretty clear from the day of the croquet match that I would not be a serious contender to win Liam’s hand, which meant disappointing my parents. Add in the constant bitchiness and hidden agendas of the other ladies; not being able to try to secure a suitable match because you had to keep your eyes on the prize, which is being Queen…..” Penelope’s voice trailed off. After a few moments, she spoke again. “Even when it came to considering other matches, women of the Court are nothing but statistics: height, weight, hair and eye color, financial stability. And the further we got into the social season, the ladies became something to wager upon, based on our odds.” She clasped her hands more tightly. “Anyway, taking the offer seemed the best of both worlds: being Lady-in-Waiting to Queen was the best alternative to actually being Queen, and I would be free to find a suitable match without so much of the courtly politics involved.

Bertrand spoke up. “Bastien, why was Lady Penelope chosen?”

Bastien spoke from the shadows. “She was determined to have the least amount of ties to court, and would be the least likely to ask questions about the assignment. “

Penelope gave a sigh. “You mean I was the most gullible.” No one responded.

“So tell us what you did”, Maxwell prompted.

“It was simple enough. I told Tariq that Riley had been confiding in me. Said that she thought he was cute, and different from the others. Hinted that she may not really like Liam. Bastien gave me correspondence, supposedly from Riley, to pass along. “

“What about the photographer? “Liam asked.

“I was simply asked to hire a photographer, put her on retainer, and advise her that someone else would follow up.”

“Bastien, can you elaborate further on this information?” Bertrand gestured for Bastien to come out of the corner and into the room proper as he asked the question.

“The King Father instructed me to find a way to ensure that Lady Riley and Duchess Olivia were eliminated from the Coronation so that King Liam would make the best choice for Queen. The best choice being Lady Madeleine, who was the remaining of the top three contenders.

For Duchess Olivia, it was assumed that protecting her family name would be her first priority. For Lady Riley, the assumption was that flirtations between Lady Riley and Lord Tariq would cast doubt upon Lady Riley’s loyalty to Liam, and Liam would no longer consider her. When no rumors were forthcoming, the photographs were leaked to humiliate Lady Riley, to make her an unacceptable suitor. The hope was that Liam would just move on after Lady Riley left Court.”

“Except I never left. The Queen Mother says I have her to thank for that. A compromise was struck between you, your Father, and Stepmother?” Riley looked at Liam. Her eyes were calm and open, but Liam thought he detected a flash of anger in them. He nodded sadly. “Yes. It was the only way to keep you here and buy us time to investigate. “Everyone here knows that. Why are you defending your actions?

“How did you manage to get Tariq to her room?” Hana asked as she took a sip of her drink. Penelope lifted her head. “I went to the maid, and asked her to tell Tariq his room had been switched due to repairs.”

Bastien’s head was hung low. “I had removed the lock from Lady Riley’s room earlier that day.”

Bastien lifted his head to look at Riley. “I neither expect nor deserve your forgiveness, but I am offering you my most sincere apologies. I acted in service of my King at the time, but Liam is my King now. I realize my actions betrayed your trust to the very core, but I know other persons, in this very room, who have betrayed you as deeply. I ask only that you consider granting me the same benevolence you have shown them.”

Riley’s eyes landed on Liam first. He chose Madeleine. She turned to Bertrand. He sold bachelor party photos to make a quick buck. Finally, they landed on Olivia. If they both had not been targeted, they would still be holding a cold war over Liam falling for her instead of Olivia.

Liam watched as Riley’s eyes went around the room. Why is she looking at Bertrand? What the hell went on during this tour?

Riley looked back at Bastien with thoughtful eyes. She gave a small nod. “Thank you, Bastien. You have certainly given me a new perspective to consider.”

“Yes, thank you, Bastien.” Liam’s voice was neutral, but his jaw was clenched. Why did he feel as if he had just been called out?

Tariq rose from his chair to head to the bar cart. “Why was I chosen?”

“We needed someone who knew Liam, but was not too close to him. Drake and Maxwell would not have been believable. It was also favorable that you had no close ties to the Court as well.”

Tariq drained his drink in one swallow, and poured another. “Am I just a joke to you people?” His tone was harsh. “Oh, I know how the Court views me. Lord Tariq, some simpleton with no thoughts in his head other than fashion, alcohol, and searching for the next big party. I knew I should have shied away from this social season.” He paused as he took a swallow of the liquid courage in his glass. “Do you know why I accepted Maxwell’s invitation to New York and the social season? Because I thought it was a chance to reconnect with my only two friends. I guess we all see where friendship got me. “He gave a derisive snort.

Drake spoke. “I consider you a friend, Tariq.”

“Oh Lord Walker…spare me your pity, or commiseration…not sure which you are offering. I am the walking stereotype of all you despise in a noble. At best, we have mutual friends that necessitate us spending time together on occasion.” Tariq’s eyes were wet, but no tears had fallen. “However, I am most fortunate you prevented what could have been an even more tragic situation. “Tariq looked at Drake. “I am indebted to you.” Drake nodded, his eyes hooded.

Liam gave a swift look between Drake and Tariq. Drake was there that night. Drake saved Riley. The thought was not as comforting as he would like it to be. Perhaps it would be if someone had bothered to tell me that tidbit.

“Yes, Drake….thank you again for being there that night. A thousand thank yous would not be enough.” Riley smiled gently and warmly at Drake.

“I care about you, Brooks.” He’s said that before. The night she was taken from the Coronation Ball. And that same look was in his eyes. Liam forced himself to focus on the conversation.

Tariq continued. “I left court about 3 years ago. Not so much as left as I just stopped coming to the events. My House is a minor one, so my absence was not really noticed. I am an only child and more prone to the frivolity of Court than the politics. I did some traveling, did some shopping. Then one day, Maxwell calls me up asking me to join them in New York and for the social season. It would be a chance to reconnect and maybe meet someone. I….I was really looking forward to spending time with my friends.” Tariq looked at Maxwell, his eyes sad.

“However, Liam was busy with the suitors and Maxwell was busy teaching Lady Riley the ways of Court, so I ended up more alone than if I had just stayed home. I found the ladies to be self-absorbed, boring, and not interested in me save for my title and any connections I may have with the Prince.

When Lady Penelope told me that Lady Riley had interest in me….it…it was a breath of fresh air. I found her enchanting from the moment I first saw her. I did doubt it at first; one need only look at how she and Liam look at each other to know that both parties harbor strong feelings for the other. But, I was hopeful…especially when Lady Riley engaged me in conversation.”

Riley interrupted him. “Tariq, it was just general conversation! Nothing untoward, nothing suggestive….just plain old conversation! How could you reconcile my actions with whatever was in that letter?” Tariq looked at her, then at the carpet. “The letter stated that you were shy and unsure, and that discretion was paramount when interacting in public. That does not excuse my actions in your room though.”

“Tell us about that night, Tariq.” Olivia urged. Strangely enough, she did not feel the contempt for him she expected to; she empathized with him. Court could be cold and lonely, and it was obvious he had grabbed at the first semblance of affection and acceptance.

Tariq poured himself another drink before taking a deep breath. “I went to my room and found a note pinned to the door. The note said that my room was under repair, something about the plumbing. I had been reassigned to another room which was unlocked, and my luggage would follow shortly. I got to the room, and entered it to find you”, he looked at Riley, “preparing for bed. It did not strike me as odd at the moment, given the letter and Lady Penelope’s conversations.

I thought your protests were you playing coy, or being shy, or I…I don’t know. All I know is I wanted the letter to be true. And then Lord Walker came in and stopped what could have been a disaster. After I apologized, I left the room and was accosted by Bastien who told me that as long as I went away, my role in this would never be made public. But if I were to speak out in defense of Lady Riley, I would be stripped of title, lands, and placed in jail for attempted rape. He said that Lady Riley would be taken care of.

When I saw the press, I wanted to come forward but I was too afraid. Lady Riley had protection, I had nothing. So I just kept traveling, and that is when you found me in Los Angeles. I thought you had come to either threaten me more or arrest me. That is why I would not speak with any of you”

“Why are you coming forward now?” Bertrand asked curiously.

“I am tired of running. I want my life back. Lady Riley needs her reputation back. And for both of us to lose so much over what amounts to nothing more than manipulation and a cruel prank….it makes no sense. I am prepared to give a statement that will allow as much truth as possible, but I won’t live in fear because of it.” He turned to Liam. I” understand you are willing to help with that?”

Liam looked at Tariq before slowly looking around the room. His head was spinning with the information gathered. He needed to compose his thoughts. After a few moments, he spoke. “This evening has been both painful and enlightening. I would first like to offer my most sincere apologies to Lady Riley. My love, I cannot begin to imagine what this conspiracy has put you through. Your strength is an inspiration. Next, apologies to both Lady Penelope and Lord Tariq for being manipulated into such positions. The Crown…the new Crown….will do all we can to make things right for all involved. Lord Tariq, you will have nothing to fear and will lose nothing by giving a statement to the press. You will work with Duke Ramsford to prepare such a statement tonight. Lady Riley and I will give statements after I visit Fydelia tomorrow. Now, if everyone will excuse me, the past 36 hours have been quite exhausting, for all of us I imagine.”

Liam stood, ready to bolt out of the room. He had thought Riley would be the one torn open by the betrayal, but it was him. He wanted to lash out, he wanted to ask questions. What type of person plotted to deliberately destroy someone? Your Father, that’s who. And who agreed to be an instrument of such destruction? Well, one person is who you trust with your life. Even more disturbing than all he had heard tonight was the fact that Drake seeing Riley naked, and that Maxwell was more than likely the one who had been comforting Riley at night during the engagement tour was first and foremost. That’s a whole new level of fucked up and insecurity.

Riley grabbed his hand. “I will see you later tonight?” Her eyes searched his.

“Not tonight, love. I need to be well rested and clear headed to deal with Madeleine in the morning.”

“Are you okay, Liam?” He wasn’t fooling her for a minute. “I know this evening is a lot to take in, especially if you are hearing most of it for the first time.” The concern in her voice was evident. “I will at least stop past later to say goodnight. I don’t want you worrying. Tonight was a good thing. Now we know, and there are no more secrets.”

Aren’t there? Liam smiled weakly at her. “I’d like that”, he said as he kissed her on the cheek. And then he was gone.

Later that night, Riley stood in front of Liam’s door, knocking softly. No answer. She tried the door. It was locked. She checked her phone, the text she had sent 2 hours ago was still unanswered. She stood there in the hall uncertainly before removing her scarf and hanging it on the doorknob.

#choices trr #trr fanfic #choices the royal romance #king liam fanfic #king liam #liam x riley #liam x mc

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thetreecorner · 6 years

Text

Lying to Yourself (Author x Reader HS AU)

Requested: Yes

Requested by: @lifelikefin

AU: High School

Characters: Author (Arthur) and NB!Reader

Words: 835

Note: I’d be willing to do a part two. Also, sorry about not getting this out sooner. My Grandpa passed away a few days ago and it’s hit me a bit hard. Don’t worry though, I enjoy writing as a distraction.

APUSH: AP US History

—-

High School was meant to be the greatest four years of your life. Parties every Saturday night, going out with friends after school, making out with strangers under the gym bleachers. You were meant to be having the time of your life, but your parents put an end to all that real quick.

“Be home by eight o’clock dear.”

“Text me when school lets out - you need an early start on your homework so that you can do your chores.”

“You’re not going to wear that, are you? Wouldn’t this be much nicer?”

“Snapchat? Sweetheart, aren’t you a bit young for social media?”

“You can have Facebook as long as you friend your father and I.”

That’s how, at seventeen, you had virtually no social life. You’d never been to a party, never been to a school dance, never been in a relationship, and you always drifted apart from your friends who now exclusively hung out at the mall. At this point in your life there was only one thing you looked forward to when going to school.

“Hey there Sugar,”

Arthur Iplier had originally been a nuisance. He’d transferred to your school halfway through freshman year and was an instant favorite among both the ladies and the men. He flirted with everyone from the head cheerleader, to the quarterback, and the lead of the school play. You were no exception.

The first time it happened, he’d been seated beside you in APUSH in junior year. You’d been distant, because everyone had heard the rumors - smashing the Vice Principals headlights, spray painting the walls of the boy’s locker room, drinking and smoking on campus. He was the kind of guy your parents had always warned you about, and told you to stay away from.

For the first few days it was as if he never even noticed you. Then he forgot his pen. And he kept forgetting his pen.

“You got a pen?” You looked up from your locker, watching as Arthur leaned casually against his own across the hall. He looked as smug as ever, chest puffed out, and an obvious bulge in his jacket let you know he’d snuck beer on campus. Again. You rolled your eyes.

You hated to admit that he’s grown on you, and that you didn’t much mind the smell of smoke and beer that followed him wherever he went.

“You have a pen.” You say. “I saw you writing your number down for that foreign exchange student at lunch.”

“Yeah… but it’s not your pen, Sugar.” He crosses the hall to press himself into the locker beside your own. You took one sniff of the air and could smell the smoke wafting off of him.

“So what?” You continue to shuffle things around your locker, doing your best to keep your eyes to yourself. But with him standing so close, it was a difficult situation.

This more-than-friendly banter was a daily ritual for the two of you. He’d ask for a pen, even if he already had one, and you’d typically deny him. It was fun seeing what he’d do next. Sometimes he would scoff and continue insisting that he needs your pen. Other times he’d drop the act and flirt like it meant the end of his life.

“Awe, you want me to fail math that badly?” He smirked. “Or are you just tryin to keep me here a bit longer?”

“We both know that if I gave you a pen, you’d stick around anyway.” You closed your locker, swinging your bag over one shoulder, and turning to walk away.

“Yeah, but I’m a joy to be around.” He argued.

“So you say.”

“Yes, but it’d be much nicer to hear you say it in that gorgeous voice of yours.” Your heart fluttered in your chest, though you couldn’t understand why. This happened every day, why were you getting nerves now?

“Fat chance.” You shot back, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself.

”C’mon, not even a smile?” Arthur casually threw his arm around you as you began walking towards your class. Your heart fluttered again at the contact. You had half the mind to shrug him off, but instead rolled your eyes and carried on. “Now you’re ignoring me? I’m heartbroken, babe.”

“I’m not ignoring you.” You said, doing your best to ignore the looks that people were giving you. It wasn’t unusual for Arthur to walk around with someone new on his arm every day - it was unusual in that the someone was you. The good child, who always played by the rules. Or so it seemed. For a moment you almost felt pleased with yourself. But, in the back of your head, you could hear all the nasty comments your mother and father would be making if they knew how you felt about a boy like this.

So you refused to admit it to yourself. There was no way you liked Arthur as more than a friend, if that’s even what he could be considered. You wouldn’t have it - your parents wouldn’t have it. The flirting is fun while it lasts, but it simply is not meant to be.

#the author #the author x reader #author #youtube egos #youtube ego imagines #x reader #reader insert #the author imagine #markiplier egos

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nadiawrites14 · 4 years

Text

what the fuck. gay little former yugoslavians

wc: 2.6k

annnnyways ive been on a huge writing spree this entire week and have been going crazy stupid i wrote this in bed on my iphone and it is gay and stupid and i just wnat them to hold hands goodnight europe dobro vece if you will

It was Friday afternoon, and Laszlo had only one thing on his mind after the day of repetitive meetings. Some good old-fashioned research at the library. Of course, the Polish capital’s government center was fitted with a nice little media center — the Bartoszewski Center for Literature, in English, but with a long Polish buzzword written on the top. Luckily, most of it was on a single floor, and one elevator was fitted for the second level of the media center. What better way to unwind than browsing the shelves without a care in the world? Laszlo only wished he was wearing more comfortable clothes. Meh, the trip back to his dorm wasn’t quite worth it. A suit would do!

The library was clean and simple, a corporate office park of a library. The shelves were aligned in assembly rows and there were no librarians tittering about, just shelves and a few stray tables with empty chairs. Laszlo took it as an opportunity to take his time, and began on the history section. How fitting. He hummed as he ran the fingers over all the spines, varying in depth and height and texture. He wasn’t exactly certain of what he was searching for, either. Maybe just a particular topic would catch his eye or an author he knew. Scanning the shelves and peeking above the European History section, his eyes found another person’s backside, hidden in the next shelf of books. With resignation, he grabbed a copy of some loose book about Yugoslavia, placed it on his lap and turned around the corner.

Florijan Kovac was reading a book. Laszlo grinned, drumming his fingers on the cover of his book, waiting for Florijan to notice him. The Slovenian did not look up. The Macedonian took this as his cue.

“Florijan! Fancy seeing you here.”

Florijan jumped and swiveled to look at Laszlo, his face an event of red as he slammed his book shut. “President Mincef!”

“Laszlo, please,” he smiled and held the book to his chest, trying to disarm Florijan with some rather uncharacteristic friendliness. “How’s your day been, dear? This must be your first session. Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be accustomed to the craziness of it soon enough.” Laszlo waved a dismissive hand, keeping a joyful look on his face.

“Thanks, um, Laszlo. Are you sure— erm — that’s okay if I call you that? I feel a little bit bad. That’s a little informal,” Florijan blinked, tightening his hold on the volume. “Izet used to go bananas when someone did that to him. It was always President Kovac with him, Mr. Kovac.”

Laszlo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember. He was a bit of an odd one out. See, most of us are okay with a first-name familiarity system, besides the sworn enemies and such. Or the uppity ones.” He scratched his chin and raised his eyebrows. “Oh! Well, if you feel more comfortable referring to me as President Mincef, Mr. Mincef, whatever, certainly fine. I don’t really care.” Laszlo shrugged and smiled coolly at the newcomer.

Florijan nodded, eyes wide as he took down this information like a panicked student taking notes from a professor. “Thank you, Laszlo.”

Finger guns. “No problem, Florijan. See? Easy. Most people won’t get a fit over it. ‘Sides your cousin, of course.”

The Slovene shuffled his feet and nodded, answering with a little smile.

“Your day went well?” Laszlo asked, hoping the conversation wouldn’t lose steam.

“It’s awful nerve-wracking,” Florijan replied, bobbing his head up and down. “Things are much more simpler when it’s domestic issues in a small country. You must feel the same way.”

Absolutely not. “Of course.”

“But I’m trying to get a better hang of foreign policy and things. It’s, uh, very interesting! I hadn’t realized how much importance is placed on it now. And, uh, does Prime Minister Hunter usually act—“

“Yes, yes he does. He’s like that with all of us. Condescending, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah. God, I wish Izet would have explained things to me more. This is all rapid-fire. It’s scary.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Laszlo offered with another relaxed smile. “Eventually, it’s a matter of reflex. Just educate yourself and build up policy over time. What are you reading, by the way?”

Florijan held it up with a soft, ready smile. “Italian cooking!”

“For Lorenzo?”

“Myself,” Florijan said with an unbothered grin, his eyes gleaming as he looked over the book. “I’ve always been the baker of my family. But I would like to extend more into cooking. Izet always loved my pastries! And his cabinet, too.” His smile went a little sad, but he straightened his posture and tucked the book beneath his shoulder. “Have we ever had potlucks?”

“You can call that G20.”

“Oh, G20,” Florijan said with a nod.

“I’m not invited to those glorified potlucks, though,” Laszlo snapped his fingers and sighed. “So, I don’t know. It might be a little lame without the great country of North Macedonia coming to stir up some trouble. That’s what’s so great about these.”

“Oh, Laszlo, you’re no troublemaker!” Florijan laughed at that. He had a cute little laugh. “You’re so gentle. And kind. I don’t know why anyone would think you’re some troublemaker!”

Gentle and kind. Nice adjectives, but not ones for Laszlo’s political side, he thinks. “It would be fun if I could go to things like that. Eh, they don’t really want me there.”

Florijan’s pleasant laughter subsided. “Why not?”

Laszlo’s face betrayed a look of genial caution. “You’ll figure it out later.”

“Oh... alright,” Florijan clammed up, putting his hands behind his back. “Well, thank you, Laszlo. It was nice talking with you. Thanks for your kind words.”

“No problem, dear.” Finger guns again.

Florijan held out a single hand, a prompt.

Laszlo stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded. “I-I like your nails. Green,” he stammered, before realizing. “OH! Of course!” Laszlo nudged himself closer, taking Florijan’s hand and giving it a firm shake. He sized out the Slovene’s handshake, and nodded. Izet was definitely not the one to teach him a proper handshake. What a limp noodle he had been. “Strong handshake. They’ll like that in you,” Laszlo commented with more nodding. “It’s a good strength to have. You know, your cousin— geez. That man couldn’t hold a handshake for his life, even before he got sick! And, and, he used to do that annoying thing, where you scratch the inside of someone’s palm! It was the most infuriating thing!” He laughed at the memory and covered his mouth, letting his face slip back into indifferent compassion. “Ah, shit. Anyways, you’re a natural. You’ll be fine here. You fit in already.”

For a moment, Florijan’s smile faded, before snapping back into place as he nodded back, grinning as best he could and providing a warm thanks. And that’s when Laszlo felt that familiar pit in his chest.

Laszlo didn’t like seeing anybody sad— who does? — and he didn’t take pleasure in sadness. Despite being a dour person with a penchant for indifference and insensitivity, Laszlo was not one to delight in people’s sadness, nor was he one to invoke such a feeling. But it was something about Florijan Kovac’s tight shoulders and downcast brown eyes that got to him the most. He had always been a light in those limited interactions Laszlo had with the Slovenian government, making banter with Izet and bringing his guests cups of tea. Even when his cousin would trade in misery and corruption, always teetering on that cliff of authoritarianism, Florijan maintained a sense of infallible positivity and warmth.

Despite what everybody else felt about Izet Kovac, the whispers and the unapologetic words and subdued glee by the so-called mourners, Florijan was also infallible in his way of grieving. He was untouched by those cold words and the empty chair his cousin left for him, unprepared and inexperienced, and chose to mourn the person he knew, not the person everybody else saw.

Laszlo knew deep down that Florijan had to be aware of the true Izet. The corruption and cruelty hidden behind sly smiles and dainty cynicism. There was a reason that Izet’s short dance with terminal illness was replaced with the tango of politically charged assassination. There was a reason Izet Kovac died from a snapped neck in his office, a pen still in his hand, and not surrounded by his family in an angelic hospital room. President Kovac had not deserved an angelic death. He did not deserve to go out in peace and in happiness, knowing that his shy and unfallible cousin was prepared to inherit a country. Izet Kovac deserved to die unaware of his legacy and in absolute dread.

But it was something about Florijan’s lingering grief that created that pit in Laszlo’s stomach. He hated seeing those small gestures, those sad looks and half-hearted smiles and sagging shoulders. But he also despised the fact that Florijan would let himself mourn so sincerely such a horrible man. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and a nauseating feeling throughout. It got to him. Truly, it got to him. Nothing ever got to Laszlo Mincef, not the hatred of his cabinet nor the world’s abandonment of his country, but watching Florijan Kovac mourn in those quiet, simplistic ways, it just ate at him.

Laszlo’s mouth was suddenly dry, and he shook his head, trying to steady himself. “How about you take a walk with me?”

Florijan perked up, eyes sparkling. “I would love to!”

***

Laszlo had placed the books in his messenger bag, charmingly draped across one of his wheelchair’s handles. Florijan was a polite, understanding man. He didn’t force himself upon Laszlo, and waited until he got complete confirmation before Laszlo allowed him to push his chair. Laszlo was happy with Florijan and Florijan was happy with Laszlo, happy that such a cool and friendly guy would graciously offer him a walk through the government center.

“If you have any questions, you know, don’t be afraid to shoot,” Laszlo offered.

“What’s Gustava’s deal?”

“Oh,” Laszlo snorted, covering his face as he giggled. “Oh, Gustava’s a nice lady. She’s a little misled. But a nice lady once you get to know her. Or, if she wants something from you. Then she’s a very nice lady.”

Florijan seemed nonplussed. “I didn’t know so many of the people here were so… absurd. Izet was always so serious about how he presented himself, but it was like a circus back there. It was exhausting. How are you so calm?”

“Practice, dear. It’s all in the look. See?” Laszlo raised his eyebrows as he turned to face Florijan, then let his expression melt into his usual look of tranquil disinterest. “You just gotta look… exhausted… and intimidating…”

Florijan mirrored Laszlo’s dour expression, wearing a pout and heavy eyelids. Laszlo snapped his fingers and nodded. “You’ve got it! Exhausted and intimidating, remember that.”

As the pair neared the dorms, Laszlo perked up at a familiar set of voices in the hall. Florijan stopped, too, flashing a concerned look. “Is that…?”

“Arpad,” Laszlo mouthed. “And Fyodor.”

“I thought it was Fedy—“

“Don’t call him Fyodor, he’ll maul you, my bad. It’s Fedya,” Laszlo backtracked, nodding “I can take it from here. Why don’t you take these?” he said, plucking the bag from his chair and handing it to Florijan.

“Your book…?”

“Hold onto it for now. Give it a good look, too, might be helpful to you. I’ll be right back. Oh, but not as a guidebook. Okay, see you!” Shifting into place, Laszlo started down the hallway, humming as he followed the growing volume of the voices.

“You’re ruining everything, why can’t you just follow directions?” Arpad demanded, Fedya pinned to the wall beside him. Well, generously so, as he still towered over Arpad by nearly a whole foot. Fedya caught the movement in the hall first, and swiveled to stare blankly at Laszlo.

Laszlo stared blankly back, studying his nails as he waited for Arpad’s attention to land on him. “You’re being unusually nasty today, Bornemisza,” he threw out. Arpad turned to him, an event of embarrassed red.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was going back to my room?” Laszlo said, cocking an eyebrow. “And you’re just here, verbally assaulting poor President Vranchev, for everyone and their mother to see. I could hear you two hallways over. You best quiet down before Ben and Gustava get involved. Keep it in the bedroom, if you will?”

Arpad grabbed Fedya’s wrist like a posh parent lugging around an unresponsive toddler who’s more interested in any other task. “Anything you’d like to say, asshole?” he spat to Fedya. Jesus, Laszlo thought, he is a fucking parent.

“I, uh, I just thought— Hi, Mincef.” He offered a small wave and Arpad began to fume. Suddenly, out of thin air, Laszlo felt a presence behind him and turned to look at Florijan, holding the books and bag in his hand. Laszlo hadn’t even heard the footsteps.

“Hi, Kovac,” Fedya peeped.

“I just thought— it was taking a while,” Florijan stuttered, studying the two other men with bated suspicion. “President Valentine. President Vranchev,” he acknowledged.

“I didn’t know he could talk!” Arpad declared, tightening his grip on Fedya’s wrist and pulling him aside. “Now, if you two’ll excuse us, we have some personal matters to discuss and would appreciate a degree of privacy. Laszlo.”

Laszlo surrendered with a nod, and put his hand in Florijan’s. “Arpad. Have a good one, pal.”

“Have fun with Izet’s little minion,” Arpad snapped back, dragging Fedya down the hall and disappearing down a corner.

They stood in silence for a moment before Laszlo pulled his clammy hand away from Florijan’s, laughing to himself. “Wow, those two are a joy, aren’t they?”

Florijan looked confused, and his silent sadness had returned. “I’m not Izet’s minion, am I?” he asked.

Laszlo blinked, and began to lead himself from the hallway. Florijan followed suit. “No, no, you’re not. Arpad’s mean. He doesn’t know anything. Don’t get worked up over it.”

“They— they don’t view me bad, do they?” Florijan shuffled his feet. “I haven’t done anything wrong. At least, I hope I haven’t…”

“You have done nothing to earn anybody’s malice,” Laszlo reassured, facing Florijan as they reached the threshold back into the building’s vital organ. “You know more about politics than the two of them combined. Trust me, Florijan, you’re fine.” He shifted in his seat and looked out into the drab grayness of the building. “Besides, I’ll be here for you. If you need anything, just ask. Komnena, Jelka, Svetlana, hell, even Adriano and Agim? They’ll do the same for you. We’re a family. A very divided family, but a family with historical and cultural ties and a shared language and shared struggles. Don’t be afraid of a few fools. You have more friends than you know.” Laszlo turned back, providing a compassionate smile. “You’re not alone in this. If you ever need a hand, I’m here, we’re here. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” Florijan replied, nodding, his cheeks turning pink. “Okay. Thank you, Laszlo, it means a lot. I’m very grateful for all the advice.”

“No problem, dear.”

Florijan tried to hand him his book. Laszlo waved his hand. “Keep it. Read it. It may help you out sometime.”

“Okay.” Florijan smiled. The lines of his face still spelled sadness, anxiety, but Laszlo hoped his support had marred it just the slightest.

“Of course. Anytime.”

Florijan bent to Laszlo’s height, taking his hand and giving him two kisses on his cheeks. “Dobro veçe, president!” he said, smiling as he disappeared back into the hallway, the two books tucked underneath his arm.

“Veçe i tebi…” Laszlo replied, turning to watch Florijan go.

Florijan looked back and waved again.

Laszlo smiled and waved back.

#yes kissing on the cheeks is tradition #yes its very cute here #yes i love them #God bless #laszlo mincef #florijan kovac #fedya vranchev #arpad valentine #my writes #liaisons #writeblr #go crazy go former yugoslavia

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seoulltang · 7 years

Text

BTS Reacts: Your Emotional Performance as Their Ex

Request: Can you do a BTS reaction of him seeing you his ex (also an idol) on stage (or on tv) crying because she sang a song that reminded her of him. Thank you, sorry if you didn’t understand me.

Seokjin (Jin)

Seokjin’s hands itched to hold you close. The burning prickle to run his hands through your soft locks, cradle your cheek in his large palm and whisper sweet promises into your ear. The breakup had been messy; your company finding out about your secret blossoming relationship without any regard for your dating ban had even Bang Shi Hyuk stepping in to avoid disaster.

“Not for me,

I don’t think it will be easy,

You still fill up my day to day,

Not yet,

I repeat it like a fool,

But I can’t swallow the words on my lips,

It’s not fine, ah~”

Your voice echoed powerfully throughout the arena, pouring every emotion, every tear into the words of your song. You gazed across the audience, faces blurring together until you landed on Seokjin’s tall frame, easily recognizable in the front row tables. Tears began welling in your eyes, unsaid words pouring out to the crowd that you prayed he alone would understand.

English lyrics used: Taeyeon’s “Fine”

Yoongi (Suga)

Yoongi lounged in one of the comfy couches of the waiting room, makeup and hair already done. The sound of the TV airing the groups who just performed filtered in through the air, idly listening over the banter of the rest of the members as he checked his social media.

The sound of your voice echoed throughout the room, too loudly in Yoongi’s ears as his attention snapped to the TV. The screen was filled with an image of you, one he had committed to memory, every flaw, every dark circle under your eyes during the long, sleepless nights.

“It’s 11:11,

When there’s not much time left to the day,

When we used to make wishes and laugh,

Everything reminds me of you,

The wind is as cold as the edge of your heart,

When I open the window, you blow in,

When this time passes, will this breakup be over? Yeah~

Will I forget you?”

The small acoustic performance fit you. You were never one for fussy stages or complicated songs. You preferred raw, emotional ballads, songs that spoke to the heart and pulled at your memories.

Yoongi’s jaw set, an attempt to control his features. Jimin came up, camera in hand, light blinking blue on the back of his phone to signify he was shooting a V-Live.

“Hyung, say hi!” Jimin took notice of Yoongi’s set features, and straightened posture and furrowed his brow. Yoongi gave a quick half smile to the camera and focused his attention back on the screen, where he caught the tail end of your performance, tears streaming down your face.

“Must be pre-show jitters,” Jimin commented to the camera, heading in the opposite direction towards Taehyung and Jungguk.

Yoongi quickly pulled out his black leather-bound notebook and a pen, and quickly started writing down thoughts, biting is lip to control all the aimless emotions in his head.

English lyrics used: Taeyeon’s “11:11″

Hoseok (J-Hope)

Hoseok had stopped mid warmup to the sound of your voice filtering in through the practice room speakers hooked up to the radio. It echoed off the walls harshly, leaving him with no choice but to stand quietly and listen. It was a radio interview, promoting the new single you had just released the day prior.

“It’s more sad than what your fans are used to, isn’t it?” The host asked and you chuckled lightly, breath catching the mic.

“Yes,” you agreed. The ballad was a complete 180 from your normal pop style but you were happy with the change, Hoseok could hear it in your voice.

He knew he should have stopped, should have turned the station to something that played a mindless beat, the same rhythm over and over, something he could dance away all the thoughts running through his mind.

Hoseok walked over to the radio, hand gently laying on top with every intention of doing just that. But burning curiousity got the better of him at hearing your next words.

“I was in a really happy place when I wrote this. It’s about someone very dear; even though they are no longer in my life they continue to help me through my day to day.”

“Would you like to sing an piece of it for your fans?” the host asked.

“Of course.” Hoseok could hear the smile in your voice, could picture just how your lips lifted, and cheeks bunched up, nose scrunching the tiniest bit. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, your angelic voice filling his ears.

“Cause you are,

The light that feel on me,

You are,

Like a beautiful dream,

With seven rays, the whole world,

Is dyed even more beautifully,

Always, yeah you are,”

The interview became quiet and a small sniffle Hoseok recognized immediately as yours permeated the air waves. “Would you like to take a quick break?” the host offered.

With that, Hoseok immediately turned the station and rubbed a sweaty palm over his face. He exhaled heavily, a deep set frown etched onto his lips. He began to stretch his limbs thoroughly, planning to throw himself into practice to try and forget the words etched into his heart, your voice ringing in his ears.

English lyrics used: Taeyeon’s “U R”

Namjoon (Rap Monster)

Namjoon stood in between his members, smile plastered dumbly on his face even though his insides felt full of mud. His brain processed things slowly, but heart beat that challenged that of a race horse. He hadn’t been this close to you since your split, conflicting schedules being the sole reason. Butterflies blossomed in his chest and soared through his veins at the sight of you, and from the blush that was dusting your cheeks, he was hoping your feelings hadn’t faded either.

“So, (Y/N)-ssi,” Don started. “I hear you wrote your newest promotional song.”

The faint blush deepened and you covered you mouth with a sleeved hand. “Yes, that’s right,” you smiled shyly.

“Mind giving us a sneak peak?” Don asked. You looked over towards your manager, sitting off screen, and he gave two thumbs up. You smiled and nodded, exhaling sharply.

“Still, I hear your sounds,

And still, I feel your hand,

Even today, I lived within your tracks,

Still, I see your image,

And still, I feel your warmth,

Even today, I lived inside your time.”

Your eyes glassed over with the beginnings of tears, and you covered your face, embarrassment creeping up your spine. The rest of your members smiled fondly and clapped, as Bangtan clapped as well and made noises of approval.

Something like pride flooded Namjoon’s chest before he quickly squashed that down. He would let himself have this moment, let show a smile fonder than the rest of his members, before he would go back to being polite yet aloof, keeping a respectful distance from your group.

English lyrics used: Taeyeon’s “Time Walking on Memories”

Taehyung (V)

Taehyung leaned over, large hand covering his mouth. “Jiminnie, I don’t know if I can do this.” He licked his dry lips and leaned back to gaze at Jimin, an unfamiliar, serious expression setting Taehyung’s features.

Jimin smiled apologetically and gave a reassuring squeeze to his knee, resting his hand there. Taehyung leaned back in his seat, handing wiping aimlessly at his mouth, as he watched the staff set up for your solo stage. The lights dimmed, and Taehyung could feel his heart begin to pound as you made your way onto the stage, front and center, to the lone mic.

You smiled warmly at the crowd as the soft piano filled the arena. You searched for Taehyung in the crowd, but were unable to find him in the dim lighting. Your heart sank a little at not being able to see him, but knowing his eyes were trained on you alone gave you the confidence to sing your deepest feelings in front of so many prying eyes.

“I don’t know since when, in this endless ordeal,

Your gaze whispers to me, “It’s okay,”,

Then there’s you,

At the end of my parched world,

Oh, it’s you,

Became sweet rain and made it fall,

For a long time, deep in my heart,

This precious word I’ve hidden away,

I love you,”

Your voice choked on the last note, tears running down your face as you unabashedly let them fall. Taehyung’s He ached to hold you. To wipe away your tears. Your relationship hadn’t been the best. You fought, argued about pointless things, neither one wanting to admit they were wrong. But when things were going right, it was amazing. Pillow fights, tickle wars, cooking that always ended in disaster and takeout. You were someone he looked forward to talk to every night, be it over the phone or through a computer screen. Taehyung gulped down the lump in his throat, willing away any form of tears that might betray his stoic face.

English lyrics used: Taeyeon’s “Secret”

Jimin

“My meaningless days with the truth of you not being there,

The tower of the future built with anticipation collapses in a single moment, oh,

The big embrace that would hug even despair will only be hollow,

Your lie that didn’t know gaze and touch,

It’s over, all of it,”

Your words screamed into the mic of your solo stage rang through Jimin’s chest louder than he thought any song ever could. Your words filled with the distrust you felt then made his skin crawl, sick with disgust for his own actions. He had never meant for any of it to happen, for it to get so out of hand. And when you walked in, right in the middle of everything, Jimin felt your trust crumble instantly.

Jimin could feel your eyes on him, even if it was only his imagination at play. He itched to hide behind his hair, anything to get you out of his line of sight. He watched as tears clung to your lashes, and could almost feel the pounding of your heart.

Jimin kept a careful stoic face, but not having the courage to watch you perform, instead aiming his gaze at the stage floor where the lights shone brightly on you. You finished your performance with cheers and whistles from the crowd, and the look of triumph aimed in Jimin’s direction had him sinking further into his seat, wishing it would just swallow him whole.

English lyrics used: Taeyeon’s “Fire”

Jungguk (Jungkook)

Jungguk prayed that if there were any cameras filming this joint radio interview, that he would be as inconspicuous as possible. It was by sheer bad luck that BTS’s sister group, your group, had been invited along to the interview with their new studio album being released. He should have known when one of their managers pulled him aside before the interview started and warned him you would be here, that he would not enjoy this experience.

Jungguk tried to steady his thrumming heart, his eyes unconsciously drifting to you when he wasn’t paying attention.

“So, (Y/N)-ssi,” the radio host began. Jungguk found himself watching you again, hoping his face remained as neutral as possible. “Is there any particular song you like best on the new album?”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “Yes, there is one song I’m really fond of. It’s one I wrote myself; a ballad.” A tight smile appeared on your delicate face, preparing yourself for the question that would come next.

“Would you mind singing a verse of it for us?”

You could feel Jungguk’s gaze lingering on you and looked to your leader beside you for courage. She gave a comforting smile as you exhaled deeply and closed your eyes.

“But still, when I think of your name,

Tears well up and when I close my eyes,

And even though everything has changed,

You’re always at the same place, looking the same,

Making me cry.”

You quickly wiped away the tears that stung your eyes and smiled sheepishly at the host. “That was beautiful,” she commented with a sad smile. “Is it about anyone in particular?”

You froze at the unexpected question and made the mistake of glancing at Jungguk. His eyes widened, and you could see how uncomfortable he had become, mouth slightly agape, shifting in his seat every couple of minutes. He gulped, and you quickly averted your gaze. You smiled shyly and waved your hand in front of your face, hoping to not look too apprehensive with your blatent lie. “Not, really. I-I just have a soft spot for ballads.”

English lyrics used: Taeyeon’s Time Lapse

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lexpistachio · 7 years

Text

just jackparse - a ficrec

for my sister who requested this rec 82 years ago. special thanks for those who painstakingly linked me new fics in my askbox. you’re the real mvp!

some things first:

divided into AU, pre-canon, canon/canon divergence, and future

word length categorized as

short fic = less than 10,000 words medium = 10,000 - 20,000 words long = 20,000 - 60,000 words novel length = 60,000 - 100,000 words

format as follows:

title - author | rating | length | various tags | gratutious commentary by me

summary

just ctrl+f if you wanna find by rating (e.g search for: long) or other tags (eg. smut, humor, au)

★ are personal faves

some liberty was taken in rating fics that are not rated

might update in the future; if i missed something, i’ll be happy to read your rec!

Kent pressed his fingers into his eyes until his vision swam for reasons other than the salty tears welling up in them. “Are you seriously asking me to fly across the goddamn country to hold your hand while you cut me out of your life?” me: you know what this fandom needs? me: an eternal sunshine au me: only without the happy ending

I’ve Been Closing My Eyes by perfectpro ★ - teen | long | inception au | angst | you don't understand how much love i have for this fic. SO MUCH LVOE

Jack Zimmermann? You worked with him and Kent Parson together? What happened?” Bitty asks before he can help himself.

Everyone’s heard the stories. Parse and Zimms, taking the world of dream share by storm, trained by Dominic Cobb himself. Ten years later, no one’s heard from either in two years.

Shrugging his shoulders, Shitty tries to think of how to phrase it. “No one comes out of Limbo the same.”

Kent knew about superstitions before he made it to hockey. He knew about black cats and broken mirrors. About stepping on cracks and throwing pinches of salt over his shoulder. Kent knew about magic before he found hockey.

Jack hums and smiles, but otherwise doesn’t respond. They sit in silence, and he bites his tongue to keep from saying anything. There is no sense disrupting this fragile peace that they have.

Here is the deal he has made with himself: Jack is forbidden, until after the curse of the seventeenth summer. Kent does not want to do anything to let the gods know how they could hurt him the worst.

why do we fall? by sparklyslug - teen | short | touch telepath! jack au | epikegster | angst

“Didja miss me?” Kent had asked / looking strong/ look good/ looking happy/I could stand here all night and all day and just look at you/ and Jack’s control had crumbled, jerked him out of step with time and out into the swirling minds of the college kids filling their house, his consciousness sent running by the brightness in his own chest.

Corporal Kenny,” Jack huffed into Kent’s ear. The arms around his waist tightened.

“Captain Jack,” Kent teased right back. “You outrank me, Zimms.”

The Daily Grind by JaneJHills - mature | long | abandoned wip | the coffeeshop au that was foretold

It’s not that Jack wasn’t into relationships; it’s just that Jack wasn’t a relationships kind of guy.

maybe i’m falling for you by madameofmusic - teen | short | coffeeshop au | this is really cute <3 i too lament the lack of more cutesy coffeeshop aus from this ship. this one’s great tho

Jack’s normal coffee shop relocates, and he’s forced to start buying from the cat-themed coffee shop down the street, Catppuccino. It’s cheesy as hell, but the coffee’s good, and the "purrista” better. Jack doesn’t miss the old shop.

“Shush,” Kent says. “What have you got that says, like, thanks for not judging me when I get wasted on Moscato and pass out on your couch, and also sorry about that? Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically,” says the florist, lips quirking, “I’d recommend either white tulips or blue hyacinths.”

Even the plainest of the plain shall deign to reign (and boy, you're reigning over me) by exbex - gen | short | high school au | chubby!jack | kent pining over shy jack is cute, yes

Lardo looks at Kent with the most knowing look he’s ever seen aside from his own mother’s. “Kent,” she finally replies, “I like you Bro. So I’m going to give you the following information. Information, which, I assure you, is publicly available. Jack, who transferred in weeks ago, Oh Unobservant One, knows me through GSA. Jack is not straight. Jack likes hockey, among other things. And that is all the emotional labor that I am doing for free.”

Shitty found Kent on the porch. “Saw your girl here,” he said. “Can’t believe you actually got her to come to a party.”

“She’s not my girl,” said Kent, trying not to blush.

“She should be,” Shitty said, smiling and leaning against the railing. “Blind man could see the way you look at her, and you’re the only person she likes at school.”

Twenty Feet Back by floatingstark - mature | short | wip | daddy!jack au as in literally-a-dad-jack

Kent is aware this is a little odd; he’s standing behind some trees on the other side of the park, pretending to stretch but actually just high-key spying on a hot dad and his kid.

i'll be your platinum by achilleees ★ - explicit | medium | sugar daddy!jack au | daddy kink | angst and fluff | this is the one daddy kink fic that made me swoon, it's the banter and the way they fall for each other slowly that takes my breath away | sorta sequels here and here | better yet, read all the entire unrelated daddykink series she wrote

Wicks took a deep breath, then let out in a rush, “So I’ve been catfishing this dude online with your pictures so he’ll buy me free stuff, only now he wants to meet in person to hand off the suit jacket I need for Ginger’s wedding tomorrow, so I need you to meet him outside the Burberry at the Copley mall tonight to pick it up for me.”

Kent couldn’t speak for a minute, because he was laughing too hard.

here in the present tense by achilleees ★ - teen | short | soulmate au | bodyswap |

Jack isn’t really sure what he was expecting when he went to sleep on August 2.

Kind of. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to admit that he genuinely thought he’d wake up in Georgia, in those checker-patterned, sunlight-limned sheets. That he’d go downstairs and hear Suzanne Bittle bustling around in the kitchen, and greet her wearing her son’s socks and his pajamas and his sweet, bashful blush.

Dynamite Boy by TomatoBird - gen | short | wreck it ralph au | glitch!jack | the concept is genius, i’d gladly read 50k more words of this

In which Jack is simultaneously a glitch, a child of champions, and an aspiring player in Hero’s Duty, and Kent is just someone he happens to meet along the way.

“You don’t have to trust me,” Kent said, “you just have to let me do this.”

Jack has spent many years away from his father's court. Now he must return to wed Kent Parson at last, with all those years and hurts between them. It's not pretty.

the light of all lights by decinq - mature | short | vampires au | look, it's not endgame and has open-ended j/b ugh but i feel like every ficrec should have at least one vampire au

Jack says, “Would you rather be able to fly or have super speed.”

The corners of Kent’s mouth tug into a small smile, and he says, “Compared to you, I do have super speed.”

Jack elbows him, hard. Jack asks, “What about being able to see the future?”

Kent thinks, they’ll end the movie here.

The story, of course, goes on.

rentboy jack and his nhl star boyfriend series by achilleees - rentboy!jack | prostitution au |

so put it on me - explicit | short | pining | smut

It will be a cold day in hell before Kent has the fortitude to say no to that pout.

“Ugh,” he says. “It’s just a dumb fantasy, man, it doesn’t matter.”

Jack cocks his head at him. “I am in the business of fulfilling fantasies,” he says. or, eloquently summed up by a friend: "Ugh poor Kent is so in love"

all the hearts they're messing with - teen | short | angst and fluff | trade |

As soon as Kent gets home, he pulls out a pad of paper and a pen and makes a list of his options.

1. Tell Jack you got traded. Get dumped. Cry in your cheerios.2. Hide from Jack that you were traded. Buy out (?) the Vegas media so they don’t cover the story. Bribe NHL.com Break Jack’s laptop so he can’t read NHL.com anymore. Fly back on off-days (?). Have plan fall through because plan is dumb. Get dumped. Cry in cheerios.

“Are you mad at me?” Kent says.

Jack meets his eyes in the mirror, gaze stormy.

“I’m just trying to get along with your parents,” says Kent. “I thought that’s why you brought me here.”

Second Chance by bittlebunny - mature | short | blind date au

“I know, I’m sorry.” Jack repeats. “It was wrong. I just didn’t know what to do, I don’t usually do that type of thing.”

“You should more often. You know you could probably get laid every night if you wanted to?”

Jack blushes and looks down into his black coffee, not quite agreeing with that sentiment.

This is a 16-fic series that centers around Jack and Kent and their history and their future. It follows canon, with one major difference; Bitty decided not to go to Samwell. Each fic is named after and based around a song on the Deluxe version of Troye Sivan’s album Blue Neighborhood. The first two fics are chronological, because they’re in the fic’s current time (2018) in the frame of the story. Most of the fics in the series are told through flashbacks and time jumps, though, and the stories switch back and forth between Jack and Kent’s perspectives.

pre-canon

meet you in the middle by madameofmusic - teen | short | pre-slash

Kent meets Jack Zimmermann for the first time.

A lot of things can happen if a cat is set loose in an ice rink; Kent never thought this would be one of them.

Or: “I may have brought my pet to the rink by accident and it may have escaped you have to help me.” AU

it’s too close for comfort by achilleees - teen | short | pre-slash | cats

“Go suck your own dick,” Parse grumbled. “I’ma find the cat.” Both pairs of shoes wandered away, and Jack was almost relieved until suddenly, without warning, the high tops came back and light flooded his sanctuary as someone crouched and lifted the hem of the tablecloth.

“Hey, you,” Parse said to either Jack or the cat, he couldn’t tell.

the bluest things on earth by blazeofglory - gen | short | drabble | pre-slash

Kent Parson isn't gay, he isn't, but there's... There's something about Jack Zimmermann.

Even though they're linemates, Jack doesn't know Kent all that well. He certainly doesn't expect the American to come look after him when he's unwell on their first roadie.

Count on It by bienenalster - gen | short | pre-slash | codependency | world juniors

Specifically, in which Jack and Kent fail at playing against each other.

Generally, in which Jack and Kent fail at being reasonable human beings. Or, the lighter side of codependency.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by bienenalster, Pax - teen | short | pre-slash maybe | mutual enabling

Jack can appreciate a good game of beer pong in someone's basement, especially when Parse is on his team, one arm around his shoulder as he tries to get Jack to miss his shot.

(Jack never really understood how Parse can just turn it off like that. If you want to win on the ice, then you should want to win all the time. Even at stupid things, like beer pong.)

(Jack has never considered the possibility that beer pong might not be the only game Parse is playing.)

but then his hands roamed by defcontwo - teen | short | first kiss

Jack’s hand pressed into the small of Parse’s back during team meetings, where no one else can see, and Parse toppling into Jack’s lap whenever he gets drunk enough that no one will blink twice at it.

A game of chicken, or a game of chance. Jack doesn’t know which one it’s going to be just yet.

you're neck and neck or cheek to cheek by punkpadfoot - teen | short | first kiss | i'm in love with the author's style of writing, and i love the tentativeness in this fic--they're shy and hesitant; their dilemma feels true

Kent’s always been fairly affectionate, but this thing with Jack is something else entirely.

the spark in your eyes, the look on your face by oscarmild - teen | short | drabble

Jack knows that Kent is his friend- his best friend, even. But lately, it’s been starting to feel like more than just friends.

Insults for Your Lovers by SummerFrost - teen | short | inter-class | social class difference | friends to lovers

Things Jack has: Brand new yellow sneakers, an expensive truck, Kent Parson.

Things Kent has: Converse with holes in them, riding shotgun, Jack Zimmermann.

Count on It by bienenalster - gen | short | preslash | codependency | world juniors

Specifically, in which Jack and Kent fail at playing against each other.

Generally, in which Jack and Kent fail at being reasonable human beings. Or, the lighter side of codependency.

What's Better Than This? Just Guys Bein' Dudes by Bittyybee (sunlight) - mature | short | massages | first kiss | ust

Kent's shoulders hurt. Jack gives good massages.

Kent spends the beginning of his summer with hockey prodigy/best friend Jack Zimmermann because they're young and they can and Kent likes getting free things.

"I know how you get all psycho near a game, don't worry. Just uh- maybe find a healthy way to release that frustration." Kate suggested as she turned and winked at Jacq. "Y'know what I mean?"

"Not hockey?" Jacq asked confused.

"Not hockey." Kate repeated, meeting Jacqs eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

its pimms cis swap smut!! enjoy!!

A Quiet Kind of Intimacy by alpha_exodus - explicit | short | first time | smut | photography

Jack doesn't really care about having a roommate on this roadie - that is, until he heads to his room and finds out his roommate is Kent Parson.

touches my foolish heart by foxfireflamequeen - explicit | short | first time | pwp

“That,” says Kent. “Was the most uncool moment of my life.”

Jack’s still laughing, the fucker.

First by omgericzimmermann - gen | short | first times | drabble | fluff and angst

They were just kids.

They were so young that everything was a first.

tear at the seams by defcontwo - mature | short | drabble | angsty smut

This is what Jack lives for: The second he touches down on the ice, his mind clears. For sixty minutes, he is nothing but a blank slate, a white board that fills itself up with plays and tactics, a steady hand on the stick and a heart that beats for nothing else.

So he sits next to Jack on roadies, bumping their shoulders together amicably as Jack chews on his lip and stares out the window at the passing scenery. He leans into every casual touch - Jack’s gloved hand on his back, their skates knocking together on the bench. Seeks him out on the ice, feeling a thrill when their passes connect effortlessly; slams him into the boards after game-winning goals, their teammates piling up around them but it’s Kent’s fist clutching the back of Jack’s jersey, Kent’s voice yelling in Jack’s ear.

If Jack notices, he doesn’t say anything.

Kent still hopes.

Good Things Ahead by perfectpro - teen | short | fwb

Jack doesn't want to go to a party, but Kent's pretty sure that he can be convinced.

Mutually Assured by Verbyna - teen | short | codependency | has kent/ofc | angst

The smile on Kent’s face is all wrong. He fixes it.

we gaze up at the stars above our heads by alyssakate - teen | short | fluff (mostly)

I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again, or when we meet our ends, but please just let me hold your hand.

There's thirty-four days of what feels like an endless summer stretched between the Memorial Cup and the NHL draft. Thirty-four days days of each other. Thirty-four days left.

four strong winds by defcontwo - teen | short | fluff with an angsty ending? (a tag that could be patented to this ship that's for sure) | i just love my teenage boys on dates and living in the moment ok

The sales pitch is irrelevant: this moment right here, sitting in the front of Kent’s piece of shit pickup truck, listening to “Party in the USA” on the radio at top volume – that’s all the convincing Jack ever needed.

Or: Kent and Jack, a carnival, and the last gasp of the 34 days.

follow my lead by mardia - explicit | short | the seduction of jack zimmermann | kent here is wily but his conviction is compelling | podfic available

Kent likes to have his fun, likes to mess with people, but there's something about messing with Jack that's just so deeply satisfying for him. He can poke and poke and he'll get a reaction every single time. No matter what, no matter how blatant Kent gets or how he pushes it, he'll get that same wide-eyed disbelieving stare, that same red blush staining Jack's cheeks.

New things by robokittens - explicit | short | smut | pwp

"Jack," Kent mumbles into Jack's neck. "I wanna try something."

wax/wane - explicit | short | angst | smut

Things will come full circle for Kent – he's sure of it.

party pieces by familiar - explicit | short | smut | pwp | painplay

From the early 2008 so-bad-it's-good sex idea vault: "It’s just him and Kent and the really stupid idea that was beating his ass raw with a hockey stick." Gotta hit it with something, you know?

search the world for something else by somehowunbroken - mature | short | second person POV | angst | au

Your name is Jack Zimmermann, and you were born into hockey.

Ode to Joy by coyotesuspect - mature | short | drunk sex

December 31st, 2008. Parse has a good feeling about the new year.

mess you made by schwule - mature | short | angst

Jack’s life hasn’t been very exciting, despite what people may think. Kent might just be the most thrilling thing that’s ever happened to him.

only time is ours by thistidalwave - mature | short | angst

Jack always feels like he’s running. Running to catch up. Running to get ahead. Lungs burning. Legs about to give out. Falling behind, behind, behind. Coming in dead last, even when he hits the finish line before anyone else.

Leaving Me Stranded by mardia - explicit | short

Jack’s dad and Kent really get along great. Which isn’t a surprise, they’re basically the same sort of person--outgoing, funny, always ready with a story or joke--so when Kent comes out to dinner with Jack and his family, it’s basically those two monopolizing the conversation for the entire meal.

an empty room by quietest_one - explicit | short | smut | established relationship

The Combine is a mad rush of a long weekend, painfully sober, gloriously exhausting. Kent is on the road to reaching his dreams, and he's taking Jack along for the ride. (Or, two boys exchange handjobs around the back of a gym. Whichever you prefer.)

the heart is a risky fuel to burn by idrilka - mature | fluff and angst | established relationship

Montreal in summer is hot as hell, the heat sticky and clinging to the skin. (There were the thirty-four days in the summer of 2009, between winning the Memorial Cup and the NHL Entry Draft in Montreal, where things were perfect. This is one of those days.)

let me feel i'm falling safely to the ground by natscribbles - mature | short

Kent doesn't know which what ifs are more dangerous, can't tell which ones hurt the most.

I Love You, He Thinks by blithelybonny - teen | short

It's the night before the draft, and Kent knows that this is probably the end.

my versailles at night by thistidalwave - teen | short | au | first kiss

But now—now it’s the quiet of the early morning, they just won the Memorial Cup, and Jack doesn’t want to let this moment pass him by.

where we went by speedboat - mature | short | dysfunctional relationship

Once in the car, Kent does three things: he googles "valium+vodka"; he shakes Jack awake; and he takes a napkin and wipes the tears away from Jack's face.

or: Parse was the one who found Jack during his overdose.

or: In Defense of Kent Parson.

34 days by thistidalwave - explicit | short | fluff and angst

There were the 34 days in the summer of 2009, between winning the Memorial Cup and the NHL Entry Draft in Montreal, where things were perfect. Who wouldn’t want that back?

it's the stars that score by perfectpro - mature | medium | angst

It’s a week until the NHL draft. A week until he stops competing with Kent and starts competing against him. A week until he finds out if his dad’s name carries more weight than Kent’s skill does, and Jack sometimes has a hard time breathing when he starts thinking about it.

It’s why he tries not to think about it.

Three Words, Repeated by Freudianity - explicit | short | fluff with an angsty ending

5+1 Five times Jack told Kent he loved him, and one time he didn't.

to you he is a room by punkpadfoot - teen | short | angst | kent pov to the story followed by the next in this list

He’s happy now—the weather is warm and the grass is soft and there’s still a pleasant buzz in his head. Jack is close enough to touch. Right now, summer’s end feels distant, less of a looming presence and more of an exit they’ve yet to reach.

to them he is a mirror by misandrywitch - teen | short | angst | jack pov to the story which precedes this in this list

All Jack knows is that after this summer, everything is going to be different.

larger than life by Verbyna - teen | short | also helpfully tagged as: the making of Kent "Victory" Parson“

Everything feels like the end of the world when it happens. No one can see the future, so it’s hard to believe it exists.”

Kent’s dad wasn’t always right, but he was right about that.

if you are looking for the demons that play well with your own by storiesfromtheden - gen | short | angst

Kent spent years counting the things that were not right.

Like A Missing Limb series by thatallone - teen | short | angst | suicide attempt

Without You

Prompt: "You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

[delete]

Kent typed out a lot of texts to Jack in the summer of 2009. He never worked up the nerve to send any of them.

physical or otherwise by jedusaur (podfic - audio only) - explicit | audio length: 3:33 mins | this is short and packs quite a punch; please give it a listen!

"Listen to me, Jack. I am not going first in the draft because of your shitty impulse control."

city without seasons by thepalebluedot - teen | short | angst

It’s hard to measure time in a city you don’t believe in.

Kent after the draft.

Countdown by SummerFrost - mature | short | drabble | angst

Kent Parson spends three years of birthdays asking for Jack Zimmermann. Jack gives what he can; sometimes it's enough.

what might have been lost - mature | short | angst | ransom and holster reads fic au | 5+ 1

five times jack and kent loved each other (and one time they couldn't)

So if you don't mind, I'll walk that line by alyssakate - teen | short | au |

Kent and Jack play each other at World Juniors in 2008 and then again in 2009.

A story about winning, losing and coming to terms with what really matters.

no sign of land by perichareia - gen | short | unrequited love | angst | 2nd Person POV

i love him.

you’re seventeen years old and the words echo in your head like the aftershock of a heavy check into the glass. for a long moment, your world stops.

dodging bullets with your broken heart by perfectpro - gen | short | angst | mostly jack-centric, but i feel like it's in-character with how jack compartmentalizes his life, which explains a lot about the tension with Kent refusing to be boxed and be forgotten

Kent belongs back in Juniors. Kent belongs at Rimouski, and on the bus traveling to roadies, and on the ice with Oceanic. Kent does not belong on the front porch of the Haus.

Five scenes between Ashley Parson and her brilliant, miserable, wonderful big brother. Or: Kent Parson, growing up.

Role Models by MisconductandMimosas - gen | medium | au | read the rest of the series here

Jack and Kent both missed the draft, albeit for completely different reasons

-or-

“For your ThrowBack Thursday of the week, we sat down with two of the NHL’s finest, Trotsy of the Aces and McLeed of the Rangers to talk their record-breaking Memorial Cup win as well as former juniors star and Zimmermann liney- Kent-“ Holster looked at the magazine article and blinked- “Parson,” he said at a lower volume. “Kent Parson? I forgot about that guy. How did they even find him?”

history begins to be blue and brown eyes by decinq - teen | short | angsty ending, with j/b

There are articles upon articles about their on-ice chemistry, the way they move around each other like the well-oiled grooves of an impeccable machine.

welcome to the second reel by idrilka - teen | short | angst

They win at home. It goes all the way to game six, and then they win in their own home arena after it goes to double overtime, and Kent gets to lift thirty-four pounds of silver into the air.

(In the aftermath of the Aces' first Stanley Cup Championship title, Kent goes to Samwell on his Cup day.)

This is What Happy Looks Like by VerityR ★ - teen | short | angst | i just like the author’s writing of it

It’s been years. Six of them. Kent Parson is not still in love with Jack Zimmermann. But it’s not like he’s in love with anybody else. So when, in his dreams, he stumbles upon something approaching happiness, maybe the figure is vaguely Jack-shaped. Jack-adjacent. But that’s not the same thing as love.

canon/canon divergent

past the last exit by misandrywitch ★ - teen | medium | the prose on this one blows me away

Jack wonders when Kent started asking so many questions that he doesn't have the answers to. It felt so much easier when neither of them asked any at all.

Shut the God Damn Door by jedusaur - mature | short | au | angst maybe? short but poignant

What if Jack went first overall, as planned, and took his addiction with him to Vegas?

"Leave, Parse," Jack says. Again.

Or: Kent finds himself stuck in a time loop.

i thought of you and where you'd gone by runphoebe - mature | short | angst with a hopeful ending | has k/omc | love the fics like this that don't view jack with rose colored glasses

When Kent’s name gets called first, he smiles, and when he slips the jersey over his head, he smiles, and when he realizes he’s going to be in Vegas, Las fucking Vegas, he smiles so hard his cheeks ache. Just because Jack’s a huge fucking fuck up who can’t handle being number one doesn’t mean Kent’s going to cry about it.

In which Kent doesn't even bother trying to get over Jack because he knows it's a huge waste of his time.

you're writing your tragedy by forochel - teen | short | angst | podfic available Year 2, Comic 9, Parse - Part III, from Kent's perspective. | epikegster

I basically took 'Kent "Baby One More Time" Parson' and ran with it.

you're familiar like my mirror years ago by nighimpossible - explicit | short | accidental voyeurism | epikegster

Kent and Jack get reacquainted at the Epikegster.

Alternatively: Bitty hears something he shouldn't have.

New Start by SalazarTipton - teen | short | morning after | fluff | post-epikegster

The morning after falling into bed together during Epikegster, Jack wakes up in Kent’s arms.

To Hell With Why by angelsaves - explicit | short | j/p/omc threesome | smut | my alternative excerpt/summary: id have a 3some w/u, Parse texts him after a while. Thanks, Jack replies

Jack has been over Parse for ages. (At least, that's what he tells himself.) In which there is bad-idea sex, accidental voyeurism, an invitation (or two) to a threesome, an actual threesome, and 0% "being over each other" by volume.

the epikegster remix series by defcontwo

you can take this heart - teen | short | epikegster | reconciliation

"So, what the hell was that, then?"

Or: a way that Epikegster could have gone differently.

and don't let go - teen | short | post-epikegster | fluff

"Did you miss me at all?"

Or: what happens when a pair of dumbasses use their words a little better.

down the backs of tabletops by defcontwo - teen | short | has mentions of k/omc and past j/b

Breakups are a kind of private war, Jack guesses.

varied my velocities by punkpadfoot ★ - teen | short | tentative friendship | tears were shed in the reading of this fic

This should feel like a victory. This shouldn't feel like tiptoeing around broken glass.

This Time (I'm Telling You, I'm Telling You) by sparklyslug - mature | short | angst | established relationship

He and Zimms, they’re pretty good at breakups, historically. They’re pretty good at what comes after the breakup, anyway.

fated to pretend by nighimpossible - teen | short | humor | only j/p if you squint but it's goddamn hilarious with a side of ransom and holster

5 Jack/Kent fics that Ransom and Holster dramatically reenact for the Haus + the truth.

Not Quite Too Late by loveandallthat - explicit | short | au | reconciliation | ahhhh this is nice

Jack accidentally confesses on live television that he had a young love that ended badly. It’s possible that this isn’t quite as bad as he thinks it is.

Seven-Year Itch by Idday ★ - teen | medium | fake/pretend relationship | married au | angst with a happy ending

“I’m sorry,” Georgia says slowly, like she thinks she misheard him. “You said you’re… married?”

Amanda raises her eyebrows and taps something onto her keyboard. “That’s good to know, Mr. Zimmermann, but I’m sure you know that many of our players are married.”

“Right, but this is… different.” Jack says.

“Jack,” Georgia says, “Why did you never mention this before? Do I know your wife?”

“I’m sure you do,” Jack says carefully, “Only… it’s not a wife. It’s Kent Parson.” ... (So what if they’re not pretending to be married. They’re still pretending to be happily married.)

the nearer your destination by achilleees - teen | short | angst | open-ended

“Parse fought Averin because he was talking shit about you,” Max said bluntly. “And you being here is not going to put him in a better emotional state.”

neutral zone stickhandling by achilleees - explicit | short | injury recovery | humor (hallelujiah)

The splint around Kent’s leg is a feat of engineering, a hulking behemoth of black plastic and Velcro, but the crutches are sleek and slim. an alternate take on the March of Jack’s senior year.

Push/Pull by thistidalwave, Verbyna - teen | short | soul bond au | break up | I’m gonna miss him for the rest of my life" stayed with me | why do all the soulbond fics in this pairing all end tragically? Who holds the stars up in the sky? Is true love just once in a lifetime?

He looks at Kent and feels nothing, if nothing feels like a shattered rib cage, all the protection around his heart gone. Kent is right in front of him, his hair falling into his face and his hands clenched in the sheets, but if Jack closes his eyes, Kent could be anywhere.

(or, Jack and Kent can’t keep their bond if they both want to play in the NHL.)

bang the doldrums by Verbyna - explicit | short | has j/b | au but almost canon in my head how jack aggressively minimizes kent's importance in his pre-samwell years lol

Kent Parson is not Jack's friend. He’s a fucking fever.

Maybe Jack's not the only one who's scared.

Kent and Jack come out together. Not together together, though, no matter how much Kent wishes that were true.

Alternately titled: "the jackparse get back together fic."

Kent Parson has well over ninety-nine problems. He has a chronic potty mouth, a sneaking suspicion he may be an actual idiot, a narcissistically-named cat with gas issues, too many sisters... the list goes on.

Kent Parson has more than ninety-nine problems and Jack Zimmermann — freshly, resentfully and recently traded to the Las Vegas Aces — is definitely one of them.

you know i held on too much by unveils - explicit | short | fluff | smut | yay all the way for happy smut

It takes a minute for the pieces to work together in Jack’s brain, but when he catches Kent’s Britney phone case out of the corner of his eye, heat blooms in his chest to match the spread of red across his cheeks, embarrassment and something else entirely. He doesn’t duck his head, but it’s a near thing, under Kent’s crooked grin. “Really? You think now is a good time to be taking pictures?”

Two swipes and a press of Kent’s thumb has his camera app sliding open to the picture he took. Jack cranes his neck to see, but Kent presses the phone into his hand, slides his hands around Jack’s neck. “Dude, yeah. You make me look good, Zimms.” -- or: the one where jack and kent have fun with camera phones!

my honey i know by achilleees - teen | short | possessiveness | jealousy | reconciliation

After that, it happened more often than he would ever have wanted to admit. It was almost too easy; girls were always after Kent, but Kent spent too much of his time looking at Jack to notice.

For example, Kent texted him from chemistry one day. Hey lara and aly wanted 2 know if we wanted 2 go thrifting w them after school 2day. No, was all Jack texted back.

Kk, Kent replied, and they didn’t go thrifting with Lara and Aly after school that day.

we could be made for this by stereosymbiosis - explicit | short | pwp

Kent lifts his head and peers up at Jack. “Hey, Zimms, what kind of soap do you use?”

“I’m not sure this is entirely relevant, Parse,” Jack breathes out. Kent looks at the expanse of skin stretched before him, Jack’s muscles taut and twitching, the fucking perfect rise of Jack’s ass, Jack’s legs spread just so and his knees pressed into the mattress for leverage, and yeah. That can probably wait.

Jersey Memories by SalazarTipton - teen | short | reminiscing | hopeful ending

When Jack goes home to Montreal for break and just wants to get his assignments finished, but his parents keep giving him chores. When his mom sends him to look through his old jerseys, he gets lost in some old memories.

take me back to when we started by madameofmusic - teen | short | reminiscing | reconciliation

Kent gets a package in the mail from Jack six months after Jack signs with the Falconers.

They’re never going to be the same carefree best friends that they once were, and Kent’s getting around to accepting that. Things are good, now, but they’re not the same, and that’s okay. He’s getting used to it.

They’re better than they’ve been in years, and that’s really all that he can hope for, but sometimes Kent remembers all the texts he sent at 2 am and all the responses he never got.

Better the Second Time by loveandallthat - teen | short | au | reconciliation

He gets Jack’s text, “you don’t have to,” thirty seconds before he gets a direct email from Jack’s agent.

Of course he has to.

Or, Jack has a public event before he goes into the NHL, and Jack’s agent insists that it won’t be good publicity unless Kent is also there.

the heaviest of burdens by thekissofbees - mature | short | angsty pining

Kent sleeps with his phone resting on his pillow, the volume cranked up as high as it will go and the vibrate on. He’s stretched the cord of the charger out so that it will reach his bed, and the coating of the wire is beginning to fray and peel off at the top.

(Or: Kent waits for Jack to call.)

Like Slow Motion by apatientwolf - teen | short | reminiscing | angsty pining

//There in the bathroom I try not to fall apart and the sinking feeling starts as I say hopelessly "he said he'd be here"// OR Taylor Swift's discography is the soundtrack of Kent Parson's life.

The one where it's July 4th 2015 in upstate New York.

Getting Some Rest by SalazarTipton - gen | short | established relationship | fluff

There’s a box under Jack’s desk. When he works on a paper, he’ll kick his feet up on it. Everybody that comes in doesn’t notice it. If they did, it just looks like some miscellaneous box of whatever. Nothing special. They wouldn’t think anything of it. No one knows that battered, footprint covered cardboard box is Jack’s lifeline. On his hardest days and in the surreal, dark hours when his insomnia hits, he opens it up and is able to breathe.

Kent likes the difference between their bodies. He likes being shorter than Jack because he can curl comfortably under the weight of Jack’s arm across his shoulders when they stand next to each other, and he likes that Jack’s body on top of his is enough to hold him down and keep him there if Jack doesn’t want him to move. He likes that Jack has big, strong hands and big, thick fingers.

The Aces get knocked out of the playoffs and Kent Parson is having feelings about it. Jack Zimmermann is having feelings about him.

keep your lights on by ladyalysv - explicit | short | rebound sex | au | unapologetically elf-centric jack

At least with Parse, it's hard to fuck things up more. (2016)

when you were there by defcontwo - mature | short | angsty angst

Jack plays the Aces for the first time, and two things happen at once: Jack, nervous and fumbling all the way through the warm up, right down to puck drop when he catches sight of that familiar blonde hair and something in him just settles, winds up playing the most beautiful hockey of his season to date.

And Kent ignores him completely.

Redux series by Idday ★ - established relationship | domesticity | fluff | au | the thing with future-ish jackparse fluff aus is that their issues (e.g. kent's insecurities, or jack's daddy issues) remain to be dealt with and don't vanish by the virtue of love ipso facto, and that's why they're so goddamn satisfying

Like We Were - teen | short | first times (again) | getting back together | friends to lovers

Jack thinks there should be a word for this, for when you fall in love with the same person a second time.

no one has me (like you do) - teen | short | summers and holidays

“Kenny,” Jack says again. “You went golfing for me. That’s how I know it’s real.”

my heart, it came to life - mature | short | family planning??

“Kenny,” Jack says, and falls into the deck chair where Kent is laying out, absorbed in whatever’s on his phone screen. It could be an email from his agent, or it could be a cat video. It’s hard to tell.

The chair is much too small for two fully grown hockey players, but they make it work. Kent drops his phone, but he’s wearing sunglasses, his face hard to read. Jack pulls them down gently until Kent’s squinting up at him, eyes adjusting to the bright afternoon.

“Do you want kids?” Jack asks him.

something about the way you love me (finally feels like home) - teen | short | pseudo-proposal

He loves Jack likes this and loves that he can make him like this—warm and open and laughing with their friends. It makes him stupidly proud, like he has his own personal Jack Zimmermann. He has to share his boyfriend with the rest of the world, sure, but they only get the hockey robot version. Kent gets this Jack, the real Jack, all to himself.

future

“For one player on the Aces, this game represents the return of youth in another, special way. In just three weeks, Kent Parson, captain of the Las Vegas Aces, will not only be returning to the east coast winter of his childhood, but he will have the rare opportunity of being out on the same pond as his former friend and rival, Jack Zimmermann. The opportunity to play a game outdoors may remind them of their childhood, but from sharing a special bond as young teammates to struggling against each other for victory, this game also shows how much has changed with time.“

Kent texted Jack: “fucking epix”.

Dad Hugs by MisconductandMimosas - gen | short | more kent & bad bob tbh but i’ll take more of this rn | fluff

In the summer of 2019, Kent attends Bob Zimmermann’s private Hockey Hall of Fame Induction party

Because Jack is an addict, and some addicts relapse.

Endgame Jack/Kent. I cannot stress this enough.

In Due Time by loveandallthat - teen | short | reconciliation

Jack’s been in the NHL for several years now. The Falconers rose to glory and fell again, just like the Aces. Jack gets on a plane to Vegas.

Behind Closed Doors by loveandallthat - explicit | short | reconciliation | friends to lovers | getting together

It’s just a tabloid. Nobody’s going to believe it anyway; it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Jack can tell himself any one of these things a thousand times and he’s never going to believe them.

Confirmed: Kent Parson Las Vegas Aces’ First Choice All Along It doesn’t even help that the last line is, “When asked for comment, Kent Parson said, ‘Who even cares anymore?’”

17 Again by daeguarchives - teen | short | friends to lovers | angst

“I can’t believe I actually thought I was in love with you, once.”

17 was a bad time for both of them, they both know that. Except now Kent's kidding himself into thinking he can move on and Jack's kidding himself into thinking he has moved on and for some reason, 17 seems a much better time than now.

new jersey is for lovers series by defcontwo, sparkyplugs ★ | it's soft and sweet and sometimes, that's enough

Ready to Walk a Path That's New - teen | short | curtainfic | fluff

They’ll always have things to apologize to each other for. But these days, they’re trying to focus on what they have to thank each other for.

These days, that’s a much longer list.

There's a place for you and me - mature | short | proposal | fluff

“I don’t know, I just, uh. It wasn’t there. He’s not the kind of guy I could see myself ending up with, I guess.”

Jack laughs, warm and close, the standard pre-chirp Zimmermann coming in at the edges. “And what kind of guy would that be?”

Kent swallows hard, and thinks, You. Fuck me, it’s always going to be you. Or: the slow and steady steps to a happily ever after.

“And my running observation is that Parse can’t take a compliment from you without blowing it off. Could be a coincidence, but no evidence to the contrary since I started paying attention,” Ransom said.

“What?” Jack said, right as Kent walked back in the room.

the river twice by Verbyna - teen | short | addiction relapse | angst | hopeful ending at least

Going to Vegas seemed like the only option.

player judged most valuable by achilleees - teen | short

prompt: future fic, jack’s been in the nhl a few years, ignoring parse when they play the aces. he can’t ignore him the night of the nhl awards, not when he looks this good, not when he fucking thanks jack in his hart acceptance speech.

i really really really really really really like you by achilleees ★ - teen | short | insecurity | established relationship | jack reassuring kent is my forever jam

“Hey,” Jack said. “My parents love you, alright? They have never not loved you. This is going to be fine.”

“Condescension negates cookie privileges,” Kent said, and shut the door in his face.

some nebulous universe called domesticity series by alwaysbuddy ★ - established relationship | fluff | humor

keep your hands on me - explicit | short | sex dream | feminization | dirty talk af

“Not a girl then?”

“It was, yeah,” Jack admits, throat feeling a little tight, “you were the girl.

”in search of our lost time - explicit | short | hurt/comfort | bathtub sex

Jack rests a hand lightly on the porcelain, skimming forward to catch one of Kent’s wrists, where it’s dangling off the edge of the tub. Kent immediately turns his hand over, and wraps two fingers around Jack’s own wrist loosely, tugging in a way that says, why aren’t you in here with me yet, huh?

Maybe I'm Not Too Young to be a Cowboy by bsmog - teen | medium | retirement | injury

Kent is 34 years old. He's won everything there is to win in the world of hockey (just not this year, let's not talk about it, okay?), but ever since an injury took Jack out of hockey altogether, there's something missing on the ice. What the hell is the offseason for if not to find out what that is?

If only anything was ever that easy where Jack Zimmermann was concerned.

Wait So Long by perfectpro - gen | short | fluff | wedding and marriage | domesticity

Let it never be said that Kent Parson doesn’t work for what he wants. Trembling, Kent gets off his knee, but he doesn’t close the ring box. “I don’t want to win another Cup alone. I don’t want to win another Cup without you,” he explains, and it’s a confession if it’s anything. He doesn’t know how to make it not true.

Gordie Meow by madameofmusic - teen | short | fluff | established relationship | humor

Kent’s cats are allergic to Jack. This isn’t even the most ridiculous thing Jack’s had to deal with.

Kent “No Chill” Parson by MisconductandMimosas - gen | short | humor | all-star weekend au | established relationship, if you read this first

“Be on my team for the All-Star game,” Kent said suddenly.

Jack chuckled, “They haven’t even announced next year’s format yet. It could be by division this year. Even if it’s not, they could make us opposing captains.”

#omgcheckplease #kent parson #parsepositive #jackparse #pimms #jack zimmermann #fic rec #omgcp

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