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akatsuki-shin · 3 years

Text

Review: 默读 Mò Dú (Silent Reading)

Notes:

(Very) long post ahead

Contains spoiler

This is my personal review and does not represent the entire audience, you are free to agree or not agree with what I’ve written here

Feel free to reply/send me a message if there are things you want to discuss

Using the Donghua poster because it fits the overall story more than the Audio Drama cover. :'))

Summary:

Yan City is a bright, bustling metropolis filled with all sorts of wonders, all sorts of people. From the richest occupying the city's most prestigious residential areas to the poorest huddling together in rundown slums, from the most fortunate blessed with a life of comfort to the wretched deemed to struggle until their last breath, from the virtuous walking in the path of light to the wicked lurking under the cover of darkness.

There is as much good as there is evil, and days gone by, people coming and going along with the passage of time.

Since their first meeting during a certain case seven years ago, Captain of the City Bureau's Crime Investigation Unit Luo Wenzhou thought he would never see eye to eye with Fei Du, son of a well-known conglomerate who inherited his father's position and wealth after the latter fell into comatose due to a near-fatal accident three years ago.

Words as sharp as knives dyed their bitter exchanges, even their personality was like the heaven and earth; the bold, blunt, and straightforward Luo Wenzhou - and the astute, secretive Fei Du, with his beautiful peach blossom eyes and a smile that is not quite a smile seducing countless people, his very presence seems as if it was covered under layers and layers of deceit.

Every single time they meet, they would always part on bad terms. Yet Luo Wenzhou would never have thought that a seemingly ordinary murder case of an ordinary deliveryman would lead him into the mystery of multiple long forgotten unsolved cases, turning over the Yan City and the City Bureau itself upside down, making him question his faith to those he respected and trust - and along with it, opening a door to the truth of Fei Du's past never once known to others.

STORY: 9/10

At first glance, the overall plot of Silent Reading seems neither extravagant nor exceptional. It's just one of those police drama where the main leads had to wrestle in a battle of wits with the villains looming around them, struggling to outsmart each other and eventually, bringing justice to those who deserve it.

But that is exactly what is so good about it. Silent reading could take all of those cliche and packed them into one nerve-wrecking, enticing journey from start to finish, complete with both intense and amusing interactions, and just the right amount of romance that does not disturb the flow of the main story.

And it actually does have its own uniqueness.

In most police dramas I've ever seen, the enemy is usually either a corrupt high-ranking official committing some hideous criminal acts by abusing their authority, or an individual/group with some very extreme values or obsession. Silent Reading, however, have both of those two most general types of villains in the story and what's more? It pits them against each other, pulling around and forcing the main leads to wreck their brains, slowly unravel the tangled mess until the truth finally comes to light.

The action and suspense, the atmosphere, the analysis, everything was almost impeccable to the point of perfection.

I have to especially give my kudos to how the author (Priest) structured the mystery in such a way, connecting one dots to the other from beginning to end. During the first few cases, I thought the resolution of the case didn't feel very solid, as if there are still some details that have yet to be properly elaborated. Yet halfway through, I realize that there is actually a bigger plot that encompass everything, tying all loose ends together.

And here, I would also like to highlight my two most favorite scene.

The first one is in Chapter 114-115 when Luo Wenzhou finally peeled of Fei Du's defense and for the first time exposed his true feelings, making Fei Du faced and spoke what he truly felt for Luo Wenzhou - that he really, actually did care for him. Their entire interactions and development up to this scene fits so well with these two main characters. There was no nonsense, no sappy crying and needless drama. Luo Wenzhou was as blunt as he was desperate and Fei Du, for once, admitted to the truth straight out with his own mouth.

The second one is in Chapter 157. In this case, one of Fei Du's most trusted men and an extremely important witness (that would later become their ally) were being chased and surrounded by thugs hired by their enemy. At this point of the story, the City Bureau was already in turmoil. Luo Wenzhou was suspended, nobody knows who they could or could not trust. Yet still, his subordinates all set out swiftly under his command and followed him to save the two witnesses, appearing at the most critical time.

It was actually a typical scene that exist in many police action drama, but given the development of the story, the well-built character relationship and interactions, I think it is Luo Wenzhou's coolest scene in the entire story and it makes me admire him a lot as the main lead and a leader figure.

One thing that does not quite sit well with me is Fan Siyuan's obsessiveness towards the late Gu Zhao. His motive for the crime was clear and I understand that he was using Gu Zhao's case as an example of injustice. But his extreme emotions whenever Gu Zhao was mentioned seems strange, even baseless. It makes me think whether he considers Gu Zhao as his own family or he was maybe madly in love with Gu Zhao, whereas in the entire story, unless I'm missing something, I have only ever known that Gu Zhao was Fan Siyuan's student - nothing more, nothing less.

CHARACTERS: 9/10

Silent Reading has a balanced, yet still very much appealing casts, from the major characters to the minor ones. Even the suspects and witnesses each had their own distinguishing features that didn't make them look like they were just there as canon fodders.

The composition of Luo Wenzhou's team itself is ideal; they've got the dependable leader, the smart advisor, the best friend and trustworthy right-hand man, the genius nerd, and the dependable aide.

I especially like Tao Ran (and I think most readers would agree with me). While he looks like the typical good guy type, he really, truly is a very good person. It's hard not to find him lovable. His relationship with Chang Ning was as cliche as it could get, but hey, as long as he's happy. Dude deserve it after everything he's done.

As for the two main leads, they are probably one of the most interesting couple I've found in the past few years.

Individually, Luo Wenzhou is the type of character I always like. He is confident to the point of having a narcissistic streak, but all of those are based on real talents and experiences. He speaks bluntly, but he cares for others through his action. He does not sugarcoat things and speaks the truth for what it is. Everything about him simply screams "reliable" as a leader (and a significant other to a certain someone). He deserves all of the respect and loyalty his subordinates gave to him.

Fei Du at first looks like a complex character whose real self is hidden beneath countless coats of pretense, but at the core, he is just a pitiful young man who does not know how to value himself, does not know how to love and be loved due to the abuse he suffered during childhood in the hands of his sadistic father. Despite his composure, his intelligence, his capability, he is almost like a lost little child, wandering in the darkness, going wherever the flow would take him until Luo Wenzhou pulled him out of that abyss. It is nothing less than commendable that he could restrain himself from succumbing into his father's manipulation, even if he has to correct himself through such extreme means for a long time.

And I'm glad that now he has someone who gives him the love he has long since been bereft of.

With Luo Wenzhou, Fei Du finally has a color in his life, someone to make happy memories with, and someone who genuinely love him for who he is. Likewise, with Fei Du, not only Luo Wenzhou got someone he could genuinely care for, he also finally has a place where he could relax, taking off the strong front he'd been putting before others all day long.

It was just so fulfilling to see two characters growing from "cat and dog" into inseparable lovers. They weren't sickeningly sweet, but just two people who are content with each other and would be each other's strength. I was especially happy when I saw how Fei Du changed his phone's ring tone into the one Luo Wenzhou in the extra chapter.

Now that I've finished reading this story, these two straight up went to the top of my all-time most favorite pairing list. But of course, this is just a personal opinion. Luo Wenzhou and Fei Du simply hits all of my favorite tropes, that's why. 😂

If I really have to point out one mini flaw, I suppose it's that the main villains aren't as appealing as the rest of the casts. They were practically overshadowed, even by some minor characters that only appeared for a short while.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS: 9/10

Just some very minor complaints:

1). When the story first introduced Fei Du in the beginning, it felt kind of abrupt. The narration had only been addressing him with his physical appearance, but suddenly they changed it into "Fei Du" with barely any proper start.

2). The international conference in Yan City (Chapter 2) was supposed to be a background information of the general setting of the first case, yet it was not properly mentioned at the start - rather, one sort paragraph about said conference was simply being slipped in the middle just for the sake to be there.

3). The switching of scenes between characters in the 3rd person POV are sometimes too quick with no signs of incoming transitions beforehand like taking shortcuts.

And by that, I mean that other than those three issues above, everything else was nothing less than perfect.

OVERALL SCORE: 9/10

A realistic story with perfectly balanced action, mystery, suspense, and romance - with a dash of comedy sprinkled at the right time and place.

Reading the novel from start to finish was nothing less than enjoyable. Whenever there needed to be a flashback or explanation, it didn't feel like info dump being thrown in all of a sudden.

I would like to point out a bit about the Zhou Conglomerate Case in Book 3.

Personally speaking, I think this is the most realistic case out of the others, and by that, I don't mean the crazy rich family drama.

The other cases in the books are something that to me feels "faraway"; murders, child trafficking, psychopath, organized criminal gangs. Yet in Book 3, due to the nature of the case, it was posted publicly for all to see, and damn if it didn't bring out the most annoying thing I actually hate in real life.

Clout-chasing media, meddlesome netizens commenting without thinking on the Internet, spreading personal information of the involved individuals without consent, handing down judgment based on rumors and personal opinions even if they have nothing to do with it (and know nothing about it), crashing the website due to mere curiosity, further hindering the police working on the case from doing their job.

They weren't thinking about those actually involved in the case, especially the victim. They don't care, or maybe don't even think that their meddlesome acts could cost a human's life because they see everything as mere passing entertainment. And if something were to happen because of their meddling, the most they would say is, of course, as quoted from Chapter 72:

"I didn't do it on purpose"

"I wasn't doing it to you"

"I didn't expect this to be the outcome"

"From a certain point of view, I'm a victim, too"

Even if I was just reading a fiction, at that moment I truly wished I could shut down the Internet for a bit. 😂

Anyway, amazing story. I might re-read everything from the start again when I have some free time.

#Mo Du #Silent Reading #Luo Wenzhou #Fei Du #ZhouDu #Review #Danmei #Priest

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queercore-curriculum · 3 years

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PLS go ahead and go off about qu. 1 and 10, i am intrigued!

YES, thank you so much for asking! And for the wonderful prompts, of course!

1. RQG characters are now the characters in another podcast you love. Whose places do they take, and how does this change the narrative?

I’ve spent a lot of time imagining the RQG characters in the world of Campaign: Skyjacks, which is my favorite podcast of all time. Here’s how I’d cast them:

Hamid as Jonnit Kessler. I mean, it’s a very clear parallel. Both have Big Protagonist Energy. Both are all about that coming-of-age narrative. Both are gifted at magic. Both have outstanding style. Both are known for vomiting. Neither of them can drink.

Wilde as Travis Matagot. Another extremely clear parallel. Travis is basically a nastier, more insecure, American Wilde. They are so similar, it’s fantastic. I’d actually love for this to be a crossover, and for Travis and Wilde to meet each other and just. Not get along, at all. Or maybe have a lot of sexual tension, who knows?

Zolf as Gable. Lots of great parallels here, particularly their crises of faith, their shared acts-of-service love language, and strong sense of responsibility for others. Also Gable’s old-married-couple dynamic with Travis is very Zoscar. All the existential crises, lol. I’ll also say that Azu could be a good fit for Gable as well—big, powerful, sweet, charmingly awkward—especially because Azu and Hamid’s lovely friendship is more in keeping with Gable’s dynamic with Jonnit.

I could go on and on about this, but my answer for #10 is very long and it’s getting late lol. I’ll just have to write an RQG/Skyjacks crossover or fusion at some point. Spéir is just such an unbelievably great world!

10. Invent a plot for a Harrison Campbell novel; fictional or from canon.

Oh my god I love this question so fucking much. I have a deep, unhealthy obsession with Zolf’s deep, unhealthy obsession with Harrison Campbell. I just think it says so much about his character—this idea that he thinks of love as something you read about in books, just a story that gives you comfort but isn't real. ZOLF SMITH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

All this is to say, I’ve plotted out four Harrison Campbell novels:

When Passions Collide

Jennifer is a commercial fisherwoman who has worked on a trawler since she was fourteen. Her captain is an absolute garbage person and she barely makes enough money to live, so she dreams of one day buying a trawler of her own.

Richard is an apprentice painter who is making his professional debut at an exhibition in London in a few months, but he has yet to produce a painting that’s worthy of showcasing—all of his work is technically exceptional but lacks that spark of inspiration that brings a painting to life, and he wants to paint someone with a story worth telling.

One day he goes to the docks to practice drawing from life, and when he sees Jennifer he’s captivated by her physicality and realizes that her body carries this story he’s been longing to paint. So he chases her down and asks to paint her portrait, and while she’s skeptical she agrees when he offers to give her all the money he makes when the painting is sold. Richard spends the rest of the novel painting Jennifer’s portrait and getting to know her, because he needs to understand her for the painting to really come to life.

If you want to read more, you can find passages of my take on When Passions Collide in my fic Before a Fall (for which I created the Jennifer/Richard tag on AO3, one of my proudest RQG fandom accomplishments). I plotted out the entire novel and developed backstories for the characters and generally got way too into it, but I’m pretty proud of what I came up with and actually thought about writing an original novel based on When Passions Collide for a while. Maybe someday!

Love in a Time of Hardship

Violet and Rory have been friends since childhood, and Rory has loved Violet all their life. But Violet doesn’t have time for romance because she wants nothing more than to leave their rural community and go to medical school.

Flash forward, and Violet has graduated medical school and is now an infectious disease specialist. When an aggressive pandemic sweeps through her hometown, Violet returns to work on the team researching a cure. Rory still lives there, and still loves Violet as much as ever. Violet still believes work comes first. But when Rory gets sick, suddenly Violet’s work is personal, and she realizes how much she has to lose.

The Heart Beats Faster

An erotic lesbian romance that takes place at manor house party. I haven’t put that much thought into this plot, other than it’s definitely inspired by Think of England by K.J. Charles and has an extremely sexy scene in a greenhouse that’s basically the legendary “spoils of war” scene from the Drarry fic Transfigurations by Resonant.

Questions of the Heart

Ok so this one is pretty meta. But in my coffeeshop AU fic Coriander, Wilde is a novelist who’s basically writing self-insert fic about him and Zolf while sitting in Zolf’s café. And on an RQG Discord server I was talking about how I kinda ship Zolf and Harrison Campbell because that fan/creator thing they’ve got going on is rife with sexual tension, and my friend Rain was like, what if Harrison Campbell came into the cafe a few years before but Zolf didn't recognize him, and was also inspired to write self-insert fic about him and Zolf?

So the premise is, Campbell went into Zolf’s café and soaking wet from the rain, and this handsome, muscular dwarf gave him a free curry so he could warm up, and then defended him from a mean customer. And Campbell was inspired to write a novel featuring Zolf as a protagonist.

So he writes Questions of the Heart, which is a murder mystery/gothic romance with a lot of pathetic fallacy that’s heavily inspired by Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights (but make it extremely pulpy). Zolf’s character is named Jonah (lol) and there’s a femme fatale inspired by Sasha named Melanie (lol). Harrison Campbell’s self-insert is a Jane Eyre-type that Jonah defends even though they don’t really know each other. And the basic theme is that Jonah has some kind of idealized/overromantic vision of the protagonist that gets disabused somehow, but then he ends up falling in love with him for who he really is. Also there’s a Jonah/Melanie/Harrison Campbell insert love triangle.

Alright I’m sure that was WAY more than you bargained for, but thanks for giving me an excuse to be extra AF, this was extremely fun <3

#rusty quill gaming #rqg ask game #skyjacks #harrison campbell #rgq

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dahniwitchoflight · 3 years

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wait. Can you talk about that namine and terra thing

https://www.khinsider.com/news/SPOILERS-A-special-conversation-before-KINGDOM-HEARTS-0-2-Birth-By-Sleep-revealed-during-First-Breath-concert-6805

Sure! So, sometime in Japan around 2016 ish, there were the official Kingdom Hearts "First Breath" Concerts, and there were 3 conversations that happened during the concert that were spoken out loud:

Here have a Nomura quote:

(Nomura was replying to a question asking about why Terra was seen with Aqua in the RoD in a trailer for KH2.8 before its release)

“Nomura: For details please look forward to playing the game. By the way, at the Official Kingdom Hearts "First Breath" concert, we had a conversation read out vocally to the audience involving Namine and Terra. The Terra from the scene you mentioned is from events following that conversation.”

So, onto the dialogue then!

(Note the original dialogue was obviously in Japanese, but it has since been recorded and properly translated, I’ve copied and pasted the English translations, but most of it is ingame dialogue we’ve already heard before anyway)

1) The first conversation is one we've seen before, Namine and Sora's conversation from the end of Chain of Memories:

"Naminé: Don't worry. You might forget about me . . . but with our promise, I can come back. Yes. One day the light--it will be ours, and it will bring us together. 'Til then--I'll be in your heart.

Sora: Right. Forgotten--but not lost."

2) Second, is the words that the Lingering Will said to Sora right before their secret boss fight in KH2FM, which previously had only ever been silent subtitles, so it was exciting to hear them voiced! But also something we've seen before

Lingering Will: Aqua . . . . Ven . . . . A Keyblade? Who are you? I know you. We've met before, way back when. No, that wasn't you. You're not the one I chose. Where is he? Xe . . .ha . . .nort . . . . Is that you? Xeha . . . nort . . . . Xehanort!

Lingering Will: That's it. Your Power That's what I felt within you. The power that connects to Aqua. And to Ven's heart.

3) Finally the third one was a completely brand new conversation between Namine and Terra (Apparently as the Lingering Will) of all people, so it was super interesting that new canonical material was coming from a concert piece of all things!

(*Edit: the initial translation I pasted here was back when this was still new and so apparently it was rough/somewhat inaccurate, I’ve edited in the newer modern translation which seems to make it pretty clear this is Namine from the Remind DLC speaking to the Lingering Will, who I guess just also happens to be the version of Terra that Aqua met and spoke to in the fragmentary passage, since their meeting happens directly after his Namine conversation)

----

Lingering Will: This place, it's...

Namine: This is a world of your memories. You're the only one the people of this time don't know the whereabouts of. I made it this far by following the links of those connected to you.

Lingering Will: Who are you?

Namine: Nice to meet you, I'm Na.. I'm a witch who manipulates memories.

Lingering Will : A witch?

Namine: Right now, you're bound by two sets of memories. One is your own memories. The other is that of a very dark power.

Lingering Will : Master... Xehanort...

Namine: Soon you'll be touched by a familiar light. Please guide her, so that she isn't confused by the darkness.

Lingering Will: She... Aqua! But I can't do anything, the way I am now...

Namine: Everyone is fighting in the the ways they can. I want you, too, to believe in yourself and fight so that your heart doesn't melt into the darkness. We will all make it to the same place, you see.

Lingering Will: Aqua... Ven... Someday, I'll... no matter what, I'll...

~The Unknown plays~

Lingering Will: I've never forgotten what happened on that day. I'll make it here and show you, no matter what.

----

From Lingering Wills/Terra's point of view, this takes place a little bit before he speaks to Aqua in the realm of darkness during BBS 0.2 A fragmentary passage, but from Namine's point of view it's taking place during the ReMind DLC right after she tells Sora that she will try to trace the connection to Terra's heart to see if she can lure the Lingering Will over to the final battle.

Time works funny in the Realm of Darkness as we all know

---Interview Excerpt---

Interviewer: In KH0.2BBS, the story is about Aqua as the main character in the Realm of Darkness? And the story would be talking about Aqua traveling in the Realm of Darkness for about 10 years? (Immediately after the Secret Episode of KHBBSFM ~ Meeting Ansem the Wise at the Dark Margin)

Nomura: That’s right. Because Aqua is the main character, it will become a story where she progresses in the Realm of Darkness. However, because time flows differently in the Realm of Darkness, it’s not simply 10 years. The beginning of the story will immediately begin after the secret episode of KHBBSFM. Since it is at the end of the story that may become spoilers, I can’t talk much about it yet. In the beginning of this story, just before we start our new journey in KH3, The King talks about reuniting with Aqua which has been kept secret, which will be the introduction.

---

Sidenote: I guess this sort of proves that the power that Namine has over the Light in People’s hearts is pretty much an equivalent to an innate Power of Waking? (Does this mean she can feature in Verum Rex and be important? Since she has the power to go through the portal and she’s been to the Final World before? I’m so close to getting my hopes up too high lol)

But yeah! Kingdom Hearts is one of those fun series that loves to throw 100% canonical material into very very odd places sometimes lol

#KH #Kingdom Hearts #Terra #Namine #First Breath Concert #Its funny that Namine and Terra from their own points probably thought they were having two different convos there #Namine was asking Terra to be there for Aqua during the keyblade graveyard battle #But Terra understood it as Aqua was near him somewhere in the realm of darkness and she needed him #But yeah it's sort of both things at the same time since this Terra that apepars to Aqua IS The Lingering Will

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mercuryislove · 3 years

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6 for Anwei, 10 for Yixing, and 30 for Ciaran and Sihla please 😊

once again I feel like I have said a whole lot of words with actually answering any of the questions at hand... please forgive me ._.

6. Do they like being reminded of home?

If by “home” you mean the past or like her childhood home then... only sometimes. Very rarely? It's complicated. Anwei pretends not to be sentimental about what life was like before, but deep down she still longs for that familiarity. She wasn't nearly as close to her mom as Ciaran was (and neither of them were close to their dad because he was um. largely absent), and looking back she still beats herself up about not cherishing the time with her they had. And sometimes in casual conversation, Ciaran will bring things up like “oh, this is just like the time when we were kids when Mom did xyz” or “Mom used to say things like that all the time” or “Mom would have loved this [completely mundane thing lol]” and some part of her gets like... resentful, maybe? She's jealous in a way that he doesn't feel the ache for the old times like he does. She's jealous that he remembers all those little details about their old life, while she only remembers stupid shit written in the margins of her college textbooks or some song on the internet that went viral when she was thirteen or the mnemonic devices she used to learn all the bones and muscles in the human body. She doesn't care about those parts. She wishes she could remember more important things. Like her mom's favorite color or the way their childhood home smelled after a summer vacation or the name of her favorite restaurant down the street. So like. to not answer the question at all, no lol. It mostly just makes her sad to think about home and how she can never go back again :(

10. Are they very sentimental, or perhaps just selectively?

Yixing has nothing to be sentimental about in his life. Well, he does have a few things, but he doesn't think so, and all of the things he would get sentimental about are tarnished by the abuse he's suffered at the hands of others. When he hears other people talk about their nostalgic feelings about childhood, he's just like “Hm. Can't relate. In fact, I wish I could erase every memory of my childhood from my brain!” Much like Anwei, he just gets fucking sad about shit instead of ever getting sentimental. Wait, would it be called sentimentality if you're like. mourning for the things in life you never got to have growing up? Like a well-adjusted family and fond memories of your youth? Because if that counts, then he absolutely is sentimental about everything ever. Sometimes he sees fathers with their young sons and sees how much they care for each other and has to like. hold back tears (or go sit on his horse for a minute lol) because that is what his life was supposed to be like. He was supposed to have someone who loved him and taught him right from wrong and protected him from the evils of the world and supported him and nurtured him and showed him how to be a good person, and... well. His father didn't do any of that. If anything he did the exact opposite. And sometimes Yixing gets really bitter about it because he didn't deserve that, and leaving when he did was the best thing he could have done, but still. He likes to imagine what it could have been like.

(Seriously though, the only things he ever truly thinks fondly of when looking back is how on nights when it was cool outside, he would sneak out of the house and go hang out with the horses in the barn and read by candlelight.)

30. How do they feel about the passage of time? Do they feel old too soon? Are they content to let days go past without recognition?

I've talked before about how the passage of time makes me personally feel insane and yes I do project all that onto my little fictional gay people because how else am I supposed to cope with the ever shifting sands of time?!

A long time ago, it didn't bother Ciaran. There was a glossy sheen to the realization of “oh fuck I'm going to live forever” and years and eventually decades passed, and it never bothered him to watch the first and second generations of survivors of the actual end of the world grow old in what felt like the blink of an eye to him. He was so distant from people back then anyway. Then the years continued to fly by and immortality had lost its shine, and he had the grim realization that he couldn't keep people at arm's length forever. They needed him and Anwei, whether he liked it or not! So he slooooowly started to warm up to the idea of letting people get close again, and eventually opened himself up to like. loving and caring for people (and letting people love him) in the short time they had to know him. (And as we know, that works out very well for him and everything is hunky-dory for a long time until he starts to care for people a little too much and then he meets a certain someone that really throws a fucking wrench in the works, and everything kind of goes downhill from there lmao) And if you go WAY back to when he like. mortal or whatever, he absolutely led a very yolo kind of life. Like. Oh fuck I will only be young and beautiful and relevant for so long so I might as well fuck up my body while my liver can still handle it!! And god he was insufferable for it. Some of that still comes through but he isn't (usually) as reckless/self-destructive about it.

MEANWHILE Sihla does not even consider time. She used to. She used to be anxious like Ciaran about how she would outlive everyone she ever loved, but then she met Anwei and was like “nevermind lol fuck everyone else I only need her,” which was, well... an interesting outlook on life. And when that ended horribly because [redacted], she got to enjoy the luxury of being trapped alone to die every day for a couple of centuries, and that's when she quit caring about, uh, anything really. (omg she did like spongebob and cleared her mind of everything except fine dining and breathing) Except maybe exacting revenge on the two people that put her there (gee I wonder who that could be). And before this all happened back when she was just a regular person, she was high strung and SCARED of the passage of time. The world as it was before wasn't particularly great, and there were always growing anxieties about the devastating effects of war and climate change and complete apathy from gods who were very real (and who could definitely put a stop to the suffering with the wave of a hand), and she was just an elementary school teacher trying to like. come to terms with the fact that many of her students could hardly afford food and clothing. And she and her wife had their own woes with trying to raise a young child in a world that could barely sustain them. Every day was a fucking struggle but it was also a gift, and she tried her hardest to make the important things count.

#oc talk #once again i am projecting all my ISSUES onto my fictional gay people #how else am i going to work through this shit? therapy??? no way. i'm broke

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ifbrd · 4 years

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Not Sugar-Coated, ToBecky Critique from a ToBecky Shipper

Let’s talk about Tobecky and it’s toxicity! And for once, let’s not hold back! I think what I’m gonna do for this post is focus on the dynamic they have in the show, mostly criticizing my own misogyny but calling out the fandom in general as well, as I’ve seen other’s do these same things. Later I will reblog it on the Word Up blog and continue my thoughts on the ship and how it affected Word Up.

The first thing I will say is that I am a Tobecky shipper, ever since Tobey’s first shorts when it was revealed he had a crush on WordGirl. I started watching this show as a kid, I would have been 9 or 10 when it started airing on PBS. If I were to get into this show today, however, I don’t think I would be shipping tobecky, because as an adult I can recognize its toxicity which I didn’t have the proper knowledge or understanding to do back in the day. And I think the real reason I still ship today is purely nostalgic. Though I won’t deny that their dynamic is interesting and that likely affects my shipping brain too.

As a kid, I think I shipped it because, well it seemed inevitable. It seemed like the only endgame option. How many romcoms start with a girl liking one boy, only to realize later she should be with a different guy, usually an underdog the audience is supposed to root for. How many romance stories start with the two not liking each other, ranging anywhere from minor annoyances for each other to full-blown enemies, only to later understand it was all a guise to hide their true feelings. It seemed obvious that Becky/WordGirl would end up with not Scoops, whom she had a crush on, but instead Tobey, the underdog she always was fighting or arguing with. Factor in Tobey’s crush, my very underdeveloped ability to think critically, and the fact that the writers in early seasons seemed to really take the time to focus on the potential chemistry between these two (their interactions in “Department Store Tobey” and both of them having a good time together in “Have You Seen the Remote?” etc) and it seemed there was only one boy for Becky to logically end up with.

The first time I can recall really questioning this ship, I mean really questioning it, was sometime in probably my sophomore or freshman year? Maybe my junior year? I recall my health teacher teaching us about healthy vs unhealthy relationships. In this unit, I realized several of my favorite ships across various fandoms were unhealthy but that’s a whole other topic. At one point I remember him giving his two cents about the phrase “opposites attract” when being applied to romance. He said this can be true, but only if the two are “opposites” in personality, and not “opposites” in values. If a couple’s values, their morals, don’t align, they probably aren’t going to make it. And in all honesty, I think Tobey and Becky have the worst possible combination for this.

They have very similar personalities, and while this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it can make it easier for them to encourage their negative traits instead of helping them overcome them. The traits they both share like pridefulness, attention-seeking, and being a bit obsessive, have the potential to be the traits they bring out in each other. The best counter-argument for this is the fact that Becky is willing to and would call Tobey out for everything wrong or ridiculous he does, and try to help him. But that doesn’t matter if Tobey is not willing to listen to her when she calls him out, or accept her help when she offers it and he needs it. And it’s especially worthless if he’s not willing to help her back.

Meanwhile, the biggest weakness for this ship is their opposite values. Their morals couldn’t be more apart from each other. Get these two together for long periods of time and a morality war would easily ensue. And then combined with if their similar personalities do end up bringing the worst in each other, then any relationship they could have would be disastrous.

The worst issues with their pairing all go back to Tobey. I love Tobey as a character, don’t get me wrong, but we need to be honest, and please excuse the language--Tobey is a piece of shit! He is disrespectful to everyone around him, except his mother, and that’s only because he’s scared of her He thinks he’s better than everyone else and has no issues expressing that opinion, even going as far as to try to define words for WordGirl. He goes as far as to belittle her in “Tobey or Consequences” criticizing her word choice. He has been shown on multiple occasions to lose his mind when he doesn’t get exactly what he wants and will do anything to get it, without regard for others’ property, feelings or safety. He’s manipulative as seen in “Tobey Goes Good” and “Have You Seen the Remote.” He’s unwilling to take responsibility for his actions, as demonstrated when he attacks the candy factory for making candy because he got a cavity, instead of realizing that he should have taken better care of his teeth.

And worst of all, despite what he and the audience often believe, he clearly doesn’t give a single shit about WordGirl. If he cared about her he would have acknowledged her disinterest, if he cared about her, he wouldn’t have tried to force Becky into admitting she’s WordGirl in “By Jove, You’ve Wrecked My Robot.” If he cared about her, he wouldn’t have pretended to be good or trick her into spending time with him or forced her to read poems about him. In the Halloween special he thought Violet was WordGirl just because she was wearing a WordGirl costume, failing to acknowledge that Violet is blonde and white and WordGirl is clearly not.

The episode “WordBot” makes it very clear what kind of relationship Tobey wants from WordGirl--and it’s not a relationship. It’s a dynamic where she simply showers him with never-ending adoration and does whatever he wants. Tobey cares about one person and one person only and it’s not WordGirl, it’s himself.

And I’m not even counting “Go Gadget Go” in any of this! That episode put him in such a bad light that most fans pretend it doesn’t exist because his behavior is so inexcusable. And yet even without that episode, we have plenty of toxicity coming from Tobey’s end.

I once saw someone say they hate the tobecky ship because the argument for it often is that Becky will be willing to put up with Tobey when they’re older. First of all, if that’s your argument in tobecky’s favor you need to go take a good hard look at yourself. Becky putting up with Tobey’s messed up behavior is essentially hoping she ends up in a horrible, toxic, unhealthy, relationship that would be borderline abusive if she didn’t stand against him. Secondly, while I don’t deny the existence of this argument, (I once read a fanfic where the two were married but still a hero and villain who battled regularly) I disagree with the idea that this argument is most often used to justify the ship. Instead, the most common argument to justify it is the idea that Tobey has it in him to change. This is certainly a better argument, as Tobey changing is really the only hope for this ship.

But I think it’s really easy for us, myself included, to struggle with the line between finding evidence that Tobey could change vs excusing his actions; the line between finding an explanation for his behavior vs finding an excuse for him. It’s a very easy line to accidentally cross without realizing it. And it really says something when, as discussed in another post, we are not giving other villains like Victoria--who have more of an “excuse” --the same treatment. It’s incredibly misogynistic.

I’m not going to try to argue that Tobey doesn’t have the capability to be good, of course, he does. We can see this in the cute note he leaves in Becky’s backpack in “Trustworthy Tobey” and in the very last moments in the Thanksgiving special, and of course in our favorite example, “It’s Your Party and I’ll Cry if I Want to.” I’m also not saying that Tobey’s actions and psychology aren’t the product of the environment and circumstances he faces daily. Of course having no father figure present, a single mother who is always working, and no friends is going to affect a child. What I want to question is when is Tobey responsible for his own life, choices, and actions? Maybe not now at age 10-11, but what about when he’s 13? 16? 18? 21? 40? Where do we draw that line? I also don’t want to discourage looking for the good in people and characters and thinking critically about how their past and psychology is affecting their actions. I want to encourage that in all characters, not just the boy who happens to have a crush.

And while it’s nice to speculate that Tobey will follow a better path in the future, not so much for tobecky as much as for the betterment of Tobey himself, we need to realize that it’s just speculation. We have no canon proof of where his story goes post-WordGirl. He has his moments of hope but overall this kid has a terrible track record. When it comes to others, Tobey makes terrible choices. And that’s exactly what “going good” will be--a choice--his choice.

I also want to take a moment to talk about something @fromtheplanethexagon said in this amazing post you should totally read because it’s great. They commented on how very few people when writing tobecky fanfics takes the time to explore her perspective of their feelings for each other. Where her feelings originate and why she would like him. This is something I am absolutely guilty of and will be paying attention to in the future. After reading that passage from their post I thought for a while why Becky would like Tobey, and I honestly struggled with it a bit, which shouldn’t be happening if I’m trying to write a healthy tobecky story. That’s all I’ll say on this for now because beyond this I would use Word Up as an example, so I’ll save that for later.

The older I get the more I realized how toxic this ship is. Heck, who knows what I’ll realize about it in the future when I’m even more mature. In the past I’ve tried to convince myself it’s okay I ship it because I never shipped Tobey with WordGirl, I shipped him with Becky. I know they are the same person, but Tobey doesn’t know that, and the dynamics between him and each of her egos are very different. The dynamic between Tobey and WordGirl reminds me of Gideon and Mabel from Gravity Falls. Meanwhile the one between Tobey and Becky reminds me more of the one between Jimmy and Cindy from The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron. That’s better right? Even if just a little bit? Well no, not really, because we all know darn well if Tobey fell for Becky instead of WordGirl he would treat Becky exactly the same as he treats WordGirl. He would ultimately have the same “WordBot esc” expectations. If anything he might try to treat her worse. With WordGirl there is a clear power balance, and while it’s still technically there with Becky, Tobey doesn’t know it’s still there and might try to use that to his advantage.

And to conclude I’d like to add to @fromtheplanethexagon above-mentioned post (here’s the link again, seriously, read it!). Regarding their final thoughts that it’s fine to explore the ship, and it’s fine to explore the unhealthy parts of the ship. But we need to be careful to not glorify the toxicity of the potential pairing.

#wordgirl #becky botsford #tobey mccallister #tobecky #misogyny #toxic ships #shipping #pbs kids #okay that link to the victoria ask post...i'd only look at it on mobile #i linked it to my blog and i guess my blog layout doesn't like that post the order is completely mixed up???#guess i have to find a new desktop blog theme because that can't be happening #it's very confusing

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

The sound of your pencil tapping lightly against your notebook must have been annoying those around you, but you were too focused on the digital clock hanging above the professor’s head to care. Bright red numbers stole your attention; each time it changed you sat up a still straighter, scooted closer to the edge of your seat. The darkness of the room didn’t help. Even with the projector shining the notes you were supposed to be absorbing did nothing to block out the beacon. You were starving.

Okay, maybe not literally, but you were definitely ravenous. Breakfast had been the last thing on your mind this morning and now you were paying for it severely. A headache brewed right under the surface and your stomach gurgled and bubbled from the emptiness. The thought of leaving early did cross your mind, but that would have been rude, not to mention highly inconvenient since you were seated near the middle of the small lecture hall. It was best to avoid the dirty looks and low curses from those that you have to crawl over to get the stairs on the edge.

“And that ends the lesson for today.” The professor walked over to the side and flipped on the light. The sudden brightness made you squint, but it was worth the relief you felt. He’d ended the lesson a whole ten minutes early. You packed your belongs as quietly as possible while still keeping a listening ear. “Please look over chapter six, sections one and two before next class, there will be a two question quiz over the passages.” You scribbled a reminder down in the corner of your notebook and hopped up out of your seat. You weren’t the only one who had called it quits for the day even though the professor was still talking. “Don’t forget the first outline of your project is due next class as well, if it’s not turned in then it’s an automatic twenty percent deduction.”

Standing in line to shuffle out from the row of desks, you made a mental note to go over your outline one more time. You were already on the third stage of the project – gathering the necessary sources for the paper – but it was still a good idea to count your ducks and make sure they were lined up nicely.

You hurried to the cafeteria. The moment you were inside you hopped in the first line you saw, not bothering to take the time to consider your options. The line you were in was for the salads and sandwiches; boring food it was. Your stomach didn’t care if your taste buds weren’t going to be blown away today, it only needed sustenance. With your tray full, you moved over to the cash register and paid for your meal before finding a free table.

“Hungry much?”

Willa slid into the chair across from you, her own tray holding the spaghetti special. The buttery garlic smell drifted over to you and made your mouth water. You chewed slowly on your bland sandwich. Maybe later you could stop by for an afternoon snack….

“Already started without me, I see.” Eric dropped his bag in the half booth beside you and kissed the top of your head.

You smiled up at him. “Early bird gets the worm.”

“But the second mouse gets the cheese,” he countered as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

You leaned around him and stared at the long lines forming across the way. “I don’t think that second half applies here. You better get going before all the good stuff is gone.”

Erik followed your gaze. “Oh, crap. You’re right. Be right back!”

After swallowing a mouthful of noodles, Willa sighed. “You two are so cute.”

You snickered under your breath, but didn’t reply. Erik and you had met in World Music Appreciation your freshman year. In class, he was the slightly loud, slightly obnoxious kid who sat behind you with his friends. Somehow – and to this day you still weren’t sure the steps that led to it – you ended up in their study group for the final exam. You found that the boy who sat behind you was indeed funny, but also intelligent, generally entertaining to be around. After passing the exam that was much harder than any introductory music class should have been, you found yourself going out for celebratory pizza with him that morphed into your first date. The two of you had settled into a comfortableness with each other and you were happy.

As if trying to contradict you, Minseok’s face made an appearance in your mind. You shook the image of his smile away. That… that wasn’t good.

“Not hungry anymore?” Finally through the line, Erik sat down beside you and cracked open the can of pop he’d purchased. You looked down at the half-eaten sandwich in your hand. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped eating. The grumbling of your stomach hadn’t completely subsided, however, the bread and meat combination was no longer remotely appealing. Was this your “grass is always greener” moment?

To wave away the thoughts, you became playful again, reaching over and plucking a lob of cheese off the fresh slice of pizza on Erik’s plate and tossed in your mouth. “No, I just decided that your food looks better.”

“Well, then here.” Erik picked up your plate, took the sandwich out of your hand and slid his tray over to your side. “I’ll eat this.”

“No, Erik, give it back.”

“Seriously, (y/n), it’s fine.”

“Holy crap.”

Willa’s soft outburst stopped the playful argument in its tracks. “What is it?” Erik asked after taking a bite of your sandwich. Giving in, you nibbled on the pizza as you waited for the answer. Your taste buds cheered in victory. This was much better.

“A couple campers were attacked last night in the woods.” Willa’s eyes were trained on her phone, scanning the article that fed her the information. Whatever words she was reading, they must have been bad. Normally, Willa was the more upbeat, nothing-gets-her-down type. It must have been bad.

You leaned forward on the table. Your happy mood at the better-tasting meal as disappeared, replaced by worry. “What was it? Does it say?”

Willa swallowed thickly. “The one that was still awake said it was a wolf. A really big wolf.”

“The one that was still awake?”

“Yeah. I guess there were three of them. One died and one’s in the ICU. The third was only sort of injured when the park rangers found them.”

“Maybe he did it,” Erik said skeptically.

“I thought the same thing, but the police say the scene was consistent with an animal attack.” She clicked the lock button on the side of her phone and put it down. Her eyes flickered to you then back down at her food. It didn’t take a telepath to figure out where her mind had gone.

Erik threw an arm around your shoulders. “See why I don’t like the idea of you going out there by yourself?”

Guilt sunk your stomach. Now you really didn’t feel like eating. To try and hide it, you smiled up at him. “I’ve always understood, but you’re right, that’s a scary thing happen and it could happen to anyone.”

Satisfied, Erik removed his arm and turned his focus back to eating. You continued to pick at the cheese in order to throw off any suspicion. While the guilt of lying was still there, that wasn’t at the most forefront of your thoughts. As plausible as it was, you hoped that it wasn’t your wolf that attacked those people. Well, the wolf didn’t belong to you, but you couldn’t image such a creature killing a human being. He’d seemed to gentle and sweet to be able to do such a thing.

It was an animal, you reminded yourself. They ran on pure instinct. Besides, you didn’t know the whole story. Perhaps, if it was the same one you met in the clearing, he was provoked. Idiots were always teasing animals, whether at the zoo or the park. It was quite possible that the campers brought it upon themselves.

No. You shouldn’t think like that. A person died. Sighing, you pushed the tray away from you.

“Full?” Erik asked. You nodded and he picked up the remains of the pizza, devouring it in only a few short bites. You giggled at the grease stain left in the corner of his mouth. With the napkin, you wiped it away and started to feel somewhat at ease again.

Minseok was devastated. There was no other word for it. This- this was not a possibility he had imagined. How could fate be so cruel?

As he stood near the entrance of the cafeteria, he’d been overjoyed at spotting you, sitting alone at one of the hybrid tables near the middle of the large crowded room, devouring the food in front of you like Chanyeol at his favorite burger place. For a moment, he’d considered walking over and saying hi, but thought better of it since he wasn’t alone. Jongdae was chatting about his classes, laughing merrily with Jongin and Yixing beside him. All the noise was a simple hum in Minseok’s ears. His fellow students were nothing but blurs his peripheral; only you were in focus. One foot started your way despite his previous hesitation, but then another girl sat down across from you. He took that as a sign to slow down. Then a guy joined you, placing his bag down as if he owned that space beside you, and kissed your head. You beamed up at him.

The ground shook beneath his feet, vibrating his whole body. An elbow connected with his stomach and made him flinch. “Hey, you okay?” Jongdae asked.

“Yeah,” Minseok lied as he turned away from the sight that caused his blood to boil. The wolf had never been so hard to fight before. Human. He had to be completely human here. “But I think I’m going to take my food back to the lounge.”

“What? Why?”

“Is everything alright?” Yixing tilted his head in that way he always did when he was trying to read through the expressions on their faces. It was irritating at times, especially when they didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering them. He meant well, but he wasn’t learning to become that kind of doctor.

“Yeah, yeah.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, Minseok forced himself to turn away before he stormed across the cafeteria. The sure fire way of having you reject him would be to slam your boyfriend against the wall. Jongdae opened his mouth to counter, but Minseok was already moving into the line, grabbing a faded red tray still wet from the washer and sliding it across the three metal bars that kept the herd of college students at bay. He swiped up a plate with a lukewarm slice of pizza and kept going. Bypassing everything else, the last thing he grabbed was a can of flavored coffee from the open fridge before going to the register.

Jongdae pouted as Minseok waved goodbye and walked out of the building. His grip on the tray was strained, knuckles pale and tendons popping out from under the skin on the back of his hands. This complicated things well beyond the obstacles he already had in his way. And here he had the fairytale in his head, thinking he would simply meet you, continue to “coincidentally” run into you and get to know you until the two of you naturally fell in love and then… well, he didn’t exactly have a plan after that, but now that would really have to be put off while he figured out how to get past step one.

Arriving at the mathematics college where he spent most of his time, he made his way through the halls until he found the lounge reserved for the GTAs. There were tables where they studied and put together lesson plans as well as couches where more naps occurred than other types of casual reclining. Against one wall was a stereo equipped with Bluetooth while a TV and game console sat across the way. It was a room where they could relax and bounce ideas off each other. The place was empty at the moment, most of the usual occupants either in class or eating lunch with their friends.

Minseok sat down at one of the tables. He aggressively chewed on the pizza as he tried not to think about what he saw a few minutes ago. And here he thought eventually telling you that he was a wolf was going to be the hard part. A large group came in then, happily talking amongst themselves. Spotting Minseok, they joined him. Sungkyu took the seat to Minseok’s right and dropped a heavy binder on the table.

“Sometimes I wonder why I took this job,” Sungkyu grumbled.

So much for peace and quiet. Oh, well, hopefully this would serve as a nice distraction. Minseok could go back to planning his next step later, once he’d calmed down a bit.

“Having fun with the freshman?” Minseok teased. As GTAs, that was the main group they taught. Not all classes were bad, but it usually took a while for some of them to realize that college was much more serious than high school.

“Actually, it’s not a freshman.” Opening the binder, Sungkyu pulled out a few papers stapled together. A sticky note covered the name written at the top, but the red ink that dictated the score was out for the world to see. “She’s close to our age, a senior, but she put this class off until the last minute. And I’m starting to see why. I don’t want to fail her, but….”

“Just give her an extra credit project,” Varya suggested between sips of her peach tea.

“Like what?”

Changmin was the first to have an idea. “Have her put together a project that applies the math to whatever her major is.”

Sungkyu wrinkled his nose at the idea. “That sounds complicated. She’s an arts major.”

“Get someone to help her with it.”

“Are you volunteering?” Varya snorted. Changmin was… charming and used it quite well, to put it mildly. “Who is it? Maybe I’ll help.”

Sungkyu peeled back the sticky note. “(y/n) (l/n).”

Minseok nearly choked on his food. Was this fate giving him a Get Out of Jail free card?

Varya shrugged. “Never heard of her.”

“I’ll do it!” The word were out before Minseok could figure out how to say them without sounding overeager. Everyone at the table was staring at him, confused. He wasn’t the kind to volunteer for these sort of things. He wasn’t the kind to add additional interactions to his schedule; he was too much of an introvert for it.

“You hate any sort of tutoring,” Sungkyu pointed out.

“I need it… for my resume.” He didn’t even have a resume. At least not a serious one. The last time he’d put together the paper bragging about himself was for a class three years ago. The file was probably somewhere on his laptop, but he doubted he would ever actually add something like this to it.

While Changmin and Varya still eyed him curiously, Sungkyu simply shrugged. “Whatever. This is only if she agrees to do it, anyway.”

“If she wants to graduate, she’ll do it.” Standing up, Varya threw out the remaining ice in her reusable cup and slipped her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you guys later. I’ve got a research paper that’s not going to write itself.”

In an overdramatic fashion, Changmin placed his hand over his heart and looked to the ceiling. “If only they did. My school career would be so much easier.”

Sungkyu rolled his eyes. “And yet completely negate the purpose of it all.” Changmin wasn’t bothered by the comment at all, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his social media as he leaned back in his chair. Sungkyu replaced the sadly scored paper and closed his binder. “Are you free tomorrow a little after four?” he asked Minseok. “I want to try and catch her after class. I’m sure she’ll agree to do the extra credit, but maybe having you right there to say you’ll help will nudge her if she’s on the fence about it.”

“Absolutely.” There was no way Minseok was going let this opportunity go. Maybe this was the better way to go about it. The two of you would be spending time together while he helped you with this project; endless time just you and him. He could get to know you, learn about what you liked and disliked, where you saw yourself going and where you’d already been. Then he could properly fight for your heart, win his mate over the right way. The excitement of what awaited him was almost too much. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

You wanted to disintegrate there in your seat.

Right on the front of the homework you just received back was a sticky note asking you to stay back after class. Never had you want a period to not end, to go on and on in a cycle of torture. You knew it was about it your recent grades. It wasn’t as if you weren’t trying. But this subject had never been your strong suit and recently it had been harder to grasp the concepts. You were an arts student, a photographer. When were you ever really going to need to know how to find the function of x after this?

Unfortunately, the end came and you stayed seated while the younger students happily skipped out of the classroom. When it was only the two of you left, you got up and walked over to the desk.

“That bad, uh?” you said in an attempt to lighten your own mood.

Sungkyu, at least, seemed a little sympathetic. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, not everyone can be a math genius.”

“No. That’s why I’m going to give you a chance to make up the points.”

You perked up. This was… somewhat good, given your mind had wondered if he was going to suggest you drop the class for now and try again later, under a different teacher. “Really?” You couldn’t help but feel like a rabbit jumping for a carrot hanging in the air. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Sungkyu reached behind him and plucked up a sheet of paper before leaning back against the desk. “I’ve got an outline here that’ll explain the project in detail.” He handed it over to you before continuing. “The basics, though, are pretty much just write a paper of how the subject relates to your major.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. Clearing your throat, you said, “O-okay. I think I can do that. Except….”

“You don’t know where to start?” Sungkyu guessed. You nodded. “That’s alright. I’m not going to make you do it alone. I’ve enlisted some help for you. Minseok?”

In from the hallway strolled in the very same Minseok you’d run into the day before. There was no way…. You nearly laughed out loud. This couldn’t possibly be a coincidence, could it? But the manner in which he shyly waved at you and fidgeted from foot to foot told you that it might be.

“Minseok will help you with the research and come with ideas. He’ll also help you with the examples that way you get all the points. Is that alright?”

Your stomach did a backflip. This meant the two of you would be spending time together – alone. Which wasn’t anything unusual; you’d had project partners of the opposite sex before, but none of them sent your heart leaping either. Perhaps it would be best to keep this on a need-to-know basis for the time being. Smiling, you looked at the expectant GTA.

“Peachy.”

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #minseok x reader #kim minseok #xiumin #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #Untamed Wolf Universe #Catching Rain

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alexseanchai · 3 years

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Fanfic 2020 in Review

I got tagged by @kasienda @noirshitsuji and @marvelousmsmol and I am tagging whoever wants to play!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

*filters own works to complete and updated in 2020*

1 - 20 of 57 Works by AlexSeanchai

nope. *adds filter to include only works of at least 1000 words*

unless otherwise indicated, these are all Miraculous Ladybug:

“don’t bake it lying down”, post-reveal Marichat vs Felix Graham de Vanily

“veracity”, canon divergence from “Ladybug” featuring Mister Bug and Verity Queen (so also Marichat, I guess)

“(no request is too extreme, if) your heart is in your dream”, in which Hawkmoth wins, for the thirty seconds or so before Emilie saves Ladybug and Chat Noir’s lives

“tell me you love me and make me believe it”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire ropes Ladybug into helping plan her civilian self’s escape slash social transition

“kingmaker, oathbreaker”, in which Hawkmoth wins and Emilie watches her son remove himself from the family

“stay and let me watch you break it down” (Twelve Dancing Princesses), a modern setting

“set a course for winds of fortune”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire has already escaped and Gabriel and Nathalie are trying to bring Gabriel’s son home

“we ground love in a hopeless place”, in which post-reveal Marinette’s attempt to remain resolutely not in love with her partner dissolves like sugar in coffee when they start a pun war

“ring the bells that still can ring”, in which Alya is deeply confused about why Adrien and Marinette are planning a wedding when last night both were single

“burning wishes at both ends (the cold wind and long loud wail remix)”, in which Gabriel made a monkey’s paw wish and Emilie makes another

“words cannot espresso”, in which Marinette’s OC roommate is justifiably worried for Marinette’s safety, and meanwhile Adrien takes care of Marinette

“the compromise of truth” (the chronologically second-earliest part posted to date of nine lives, snake’s eyes), in which Adrien tells his friends how he won some freedom and respect from his father

“At The Present Time”, the Ladrien/Ladynoir marriage proposal follow-up to @art-deco-shrimp‘s “Your Presents Required”

“j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”, in which the events of canon must just have been a series of dream sequences, Marinette and Adrien both think, until they both arrive at Chloe’s Halloween masquerade dressed as themselves from the dreams

2) Number of words written:

ahahaha no. I am not counting all my scattered fic drafts and trying to figure out what I did and didn’t write in 2020. I refuse.

AO3 says I posted 162K in 2020. it is counting all of keeps you guessing (like any real love), which (a) I started posting in 2019 (b) is co-written by @galahadwilder; it is counting all of my meta snippets collection, much of which was written in 2019; it is counting the Vimeo passwords for my vids. but I probably cleared 150K by a safe margin.

3) Your most popular fic:

“veracity” has a four-digit kudos count, wow, when’d that happen? this is also the 2020 work with the most hits and the most bookmarks, but “tell me you love me” has four-thirds as many comments as its nearest competitor.

4) Your personal fav:

“cannot break us, not with a thousand swords”, no question about it. this is the one in which Ladybug proposes marriage to Chat Noir via Princess Bride meme on Tumblr. (if you intend to download the work or otherwise to consume it with creator style off, you want the accessible version instead of the primary version.)

5) Your fav scene:

aaaaaaaaa

—okay so this is cheating and I know it, since Uncertain Humors (the one where Marinette/Adrien is both Orpheus/Eurydice and Theseus/Ariadne) is nowhere near finished, never mind posted (maybe I'll get “Sanguine” done to post on my birthday?)

but it is still my favorite of the year. as you might guess from that description of the story, this scene has content notes for character death:

Hell is a maze. Marinette walks.

This acrid passage has little to see but damp stone, seeming blood-stained in the dim carmine light. At about the height of her heart, the faintly glowing thread cuts through the not-clammy air; it ought to be pulsing at the same rate as the heart it's bound to. She might be able to see her own reflection if she looked down at the open sewage pipe, or at one of the puddles that now and again she splashes through, dampening the canvas of her shoes. She might see reflected what's behind her.

She remembers Mme. Mendeleiev lecturing on human physiology. In healthy humans old enough to have learned how, urination is a voluntary action: one may not know which muscles one tenses and relaxes in order to do so, and probably isn't paying attention to those details when one is doing, but one has conscious control over whether one does. Usually. Stress and anxiety mean some people are unable to relax the relevant sphincter muscle and others are unable to stop themselves. It's voluntary for cats, too: it's one way they mark their territories. Cat-boys have other ways.

There is a moment in every human life when all one's muscles relax at once. Some Parisians have had several such moments.

The thread is braided with itself around her left fourth finger, rows of tiny red half-hitch knots, and falls loosely over the back of her hand to loop twice around her wrist. She holds it wrapped between the fingers of her right hand to keep it at a constant tension, as though knitting with this insubstantial thread, so fragile for something two (two dozen, two million) lives hang from—too thin to sew with, no thicker than one strand of his hair. As she walks, she winds it around and around and around her wrist.

Between her ring finger and her right hand, it loops twice.

Marinette's shoe lands in a puddle she didn't see. The rainwater splashes soundlessly onto her bare ankle and on the stone.

(With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal— It's a very loud song.)

She walks on.

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

where the firelight fades, no contest. this is the second story I’ve ever been able to stick with more than a couple hundred words past the 20K mark, but it’s easily the twentieth novel-length I’ve begun. (though also, you know that kedreeva post? well, 90K later, I’m less than 15K from completing this 10K fic! I think.) and I have been learning so much about long-form fiction.

there has also been a lot of weeping and tearing my hair. case in point: I just trashed the chapter 15 draft because I figured out the reason it wasn’t going anywhere! I can probably keep the first few hundred words of that draft without any editing, and another few hundred with some revision...

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

from “j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”:

Everything about their partnership is fragments of sentences in the dream diary Adrien writes in ultraviolet pen. Disjointed flickers of thought even when examined under the black light he hides in the snack cabinet under packets of Super Yoyo sandwich cookies and bags of cheesy Monster Munch potato chips and boxes of petit écolier butter cookies (chocolat noir)—none of which explains the gym-socks smell. All fleeting incoherent flashes, invisible between the mundane lines of La Modification shelved at his bedside between Leroux and Dumas. None of it is solid. Adrien has more proof his room's haunted.

okay let me break this down for you!

* Adrien started a dream diary to make sense of the memories

* in invisible ink, in a book that (according to Wikipedia) is thematically appropriate and won’t (if Gabriel sees it) look like anything other than Adrien developing an interest in French literature

* shelved between Phantom of the Opera and The Three Musketeers

* look I didn’t come up with the name “black light”

* or “chocolat noir” for what English speakers call “dark chocolate”, or “petit écolier” (that is, “little schoolboy”) for that sort of butter cookie

* also not my fault that “chocolat noir” sounds remarkably like “Chat Noir”, which, attentive readers may have noticed, is not a name that appears in the story after the header and before Miraculous Cure

* I found the website of a store in Boston, Massachusetts that caters to French expats, and the yo-yo cookies and the monster chips were right there in the photos, y’all

* the snack stash and the black light live in the cabinet where, in canon, the Camembert lives; yes, that cheese smells in the real world like gym socks

* this story’s akuma was not able to affect anything but squishy human memory: nobody affected remembers anything about Ladybug or Chat Noir or Hawkmoth, not in any solid way, not even when they read news articles about the subject, and this includes Marinette and Adrien not being able to see or hear or remember their own kwamis—but you know what Adrien’s Insta post about his poltergeist and Adrien’s Insta post with the floating sock don’t show and don’t explicitly refer to?

* I love this paragraph so much (my housemates may have been lovingly mocking me over it)

8) A comment that touched you:

there are people (y’all know who you are) who said y’all are studying my style. I ded of blush.

9) Something that inspired your writing:

by volume of fic drafts that can be blamed on any particular person, the winner is probably @norakwami

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

so that longest-story-ever-written record I set in 2007 with the 89.5K story that, till where the firelight fades, was the only story I’d gotten much past 20K?

I broke that fucking record!

and then I deleted the draft of firelight chapter 15 😭

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I’m starting work on a fantasy novel, a Sleeping Beauty retelling in which I explore (among other things) the economic consequences of the king’s ordering all the spinning wheels burned, and I want to make significant progress on that. and I want to not make my hands any worse; I kind of need those!

(breaking news alert: bodies fucking suck. so does giving yourself repetitive stress injuries in doing one and a half to two people’s worth of work for an organization that was never ever going to pay you more than one person’s worth of pay.)

#by alexseanchai #miraculous ladybug #tag game

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slytherinnbitch · 3 years

Text

Prompt #10

Prompt #10- Secret Relationship

Pairing- Pansmione

Background- Hogwarts Sixth Year. They’ve been dating for the past four months now. Drarry are also dating (not relevant but there is no way, Harry and Ginny are dating so deal with it. This may not follow much cannon because I read the books eons ago and mostly depend on ff nowadays.

Thank you for submission <3

..............................................................................

“Parkinson, what are you doing?” Hermione asks as soon as she is cornered in the middle of an empty corridor by Pansy Parkinson.

“Oh you know? Just kissing my beautiful girlfriend.” she says haughtily as she presses her own lips to Hermione’s in a whisper of a kiss.

“Girlfriend? And yours? Never!” she laughs and presses her lips more fiercely to hers, “But seriously, what are you doing? We talked about this babe.”

She attacks her jaw and throat next, leaving small kisses all over making Hermione almost forget what she was saying. “I just....I was just--ugh why is this so hard!” Pansy closes her eyes before rushing out the words, “I was bloody jealous of our best friends, alright?”

“Jealous? Darling, I’m sorry but I don’t think I get you.” She pulls away and looks down at her girlfriend.

“It’s just they are out and we are not and it’s my fucking fault because I'm such a coward that I can't even--" She is cut-off by Hermione who firmly places her hand over her mouth to stop her from speaking and it absurdly works.

"Now, love. You listen to me okay? And listen properly. It is not your fault anyhow that we aren't out. It's my decision as much as it is your decision so just don't. And so what Harry is out about his relationship and we are not? How does it effect us if the public whom we don't even care about knows or not? We know and that's enough. Don't you agree?" She says it such a way that Pansy is left absolutely stunned, so she just stares at her lovely, caring and such understanding girlfriend in complete silence; searching her face for any kind of emotion that would betray her words but she finds none. Hermione Granger is as genuine as the words she just said.

It makes Pansy want to kiss her silly until she forgets everything but her, unfortunately for them she hears footsteps coming from the end of the hall and they hastily scurry away to one of the secret passages Hermione told Pansy about. She had gotten to know about it from Harry's map and she was very grateful for the map nowadays if she was being completely honest.

"That was close." Pansy says but she is grinning so Hermione can't help but join her.

"It was your fault!" She says and is immediately silenced by a deliberate kiss.

"Was not." Pansy says, knowing full well that it was.

"Distraction by kisses is cheating!" Hermione says.

"You love it though."

"That I do" She says and they forget about everything around them for the next hour or so, except each other.

.............................

"I want to come out." Pansy says, three days after their corridor incident. They are sitting in the library studying together. It's perfectly fine because now that their friends are dating, they are being 'civil' to one another and studying in the library is just that. Also they aren't particularly alone, it's just that Draco had disappeared almost an hour ago with Harry following him just a second afterwards.

"Are you....are you sure, babe? You know you don't need to." Hermione asks tentatively, she wants to come out, wants to show their relationship to the world and how much she loves, yes loves Pansy Parkinson but to her Pansy's comfort comes way before that so she supports her without even a second thought. They'll get there one day, she knows that so she doesn't give much thought to it if she can help it.

"Completely. I've given it quite a lot of thought and I think I'm ready to do it. Atleast to our friends, I'm not sure about the whole school though."

"That's completely fine. Why don't we do this, we tell our friends and don't actively show or hide our relationship from the rest of the school?" Hermione asks, hoping that she doesn't sound much eager.

"That's a amazing idea, Mione! This is why I love you so much." Hermione blushes at that but focuses back on her homework. She knows they haven't discussed a how or when but that can wait until later. She is just happy that they are going to do it soon!

Harry and Draco arrive a few minutes later, with flushed cheeks and red lips, "So did you guys have a nice time studying alone?" Pansy asks as they sit down.

"Shut up, Parks" Harry says, he has taken up making a nickname out of Pansy's last name because calling her first was too weird to him. To be honest, Hermione likes it suits a lot.

"Did you not have a great time studying, Pans?" Draco counters back and Hermione doesn't even date look at him. She is sure she will reveal much more than she wants.

Pansy just looks shell shocked at Draco before responding, "It's not like I have a boyfriend to do studying with, do I?"

"Why Pans, you've Hermione right here. Topper of our class and probable future Ministress of Magic with you. You won't need anyone else would you?" Hermione is sure that Draco knows. How? She doesn't know but he does. It is quite clear or maybe he just suspects.

She looks up at Harry who is looking back and forth between Draco and Pansy, trying to decipher in between the lines, his gaze moves to Hermione, questioning her silently. She just shrugs and Harry buys it and shrugs himself before grudgingly getting back to his own homework.

............

"I like to say something." Pansy says after all their friends have come. They are sitting in the Room of Requirement, called there upon Pansy and Hermione's request.

Hermione looks around the room, Blaise looks bored , Draco appears weirdly smug as if he knows what's coming, after the library thing she suspects he does. Harry is looking intently at Pansy while Ron looks uncomfortable being here and being addressed by Pansy like this. Nott has a neutral expression as he stares at Pansy, Neville keeps fidgeting in his seat while Luna looks calm and Ginny is basically grinning like a cat at Hermione and Pansy at turns. Quite a group they have.

"Please continue." Draco tells her and smirks slightly at her.

"Yeah so I'm gay." She states bluntly.

"No you're not." It's Luna who speaks up and every one collectively looks at her. What is she saying?

"You're a lesbian, not gay." She explains and she breathes out in relief. She doesn't know what she would have done if Luna had just refused to recognise her as ..... herself?

"Yeah okay, that." Pansy agrees.

"Yeah we already know that, Pans. What is the news though?" Nott asks.

"What do you mean that you already know?"

"Everyone does, but this just can't be you coming out?" Blaise says matter-of-factly.

"Oh it's not. Just wait." Draco quips in, clearly enjoying this way too much.

The Gryffindors are weirdly silent through all of it, as she supposes she would have been as well if any other Slytherin would have just called them all to just come out to them, might even be a bit awkward.

Pansy just looks at her, silently asking her to take the lead from there. Which she does, "So....the thing is...."

She has no idea where her Gryffindor courage has suddenly vanished but she can't speak, not infront of all her friends. The what ifs suddenly come to her mind and she tries her best to keep them at bay. She looks at all them, looking expectantly at her. She has addressed so many people before but somehow this just feels so different. She glances at Pansy who gives her a sma bit encouraging smile.

She takes a deep breath and continues, going the straightforward way just like Pansy, "We are dating."

There is long deafening silence as everyone soakes in the news. She looks at their faces and finds identical yet different expressions. They all looked either shocked or surprised all on different levels, while Draco and surprisingly, Luna just smile at them. Although Draco's is a lot more smug.

"We are so happy for you guys," Luna breaks the silence as she gets up to hug them both, "Thank you for trusting us enough and being brave enough to come out."

After that, it's all smiles and jokes and teasing, except Harry who looks strange.

She mentally notes to ask him later, but for now she just enjoys sitting next to Pansy and being able to kiss her without any hindrance.

........

"Haz...." Harry looks up from his broom which he is polishing for the last half an hour.

"Yes, Mione?"

"Are you alright, you know with me and Pansy?"

"Yes of course. I'm really happy that you found someone who makes you happy, she makes you happy, right?"

"Immensely."

"Why do you ask then?"

"You looked strange when I told all of you this morning."

"Oh that! It's nothing to do with you, Mione. Draco has been leaving me clues about you both which I wasn't able to get and they all just suddenly clicked in place and I realized how oblivious of me to not notice. The all the time studying in the library, coming to class late and even skipping class-"

"That was one time!" She injects.

"One time of Hermione Topper Granger not attending class is enough for me."

She smiles fondly at him, relieved that he is okay about it. He is one of her best friends after all and his opinions matters greatly to her.

"So we good?"

"Absolutely!" He answers and hugs her tightly, "No matter what, you'll obviously be my best friend. Nothing would be changing that, Mione."

His words are whispered into her hair, but she knows Harry means them and she feels the same so she just hugs him back and thanks Merlin for giving her someone as Harry as her best friend.

#hermione granger #harry potter #hogwarts #ron wealsey #draco malfoy #pansy x hermione #pansmione #pansmione au #blaise zabini #theodore nott #luna lovegood #ginny weasley #hogwarts sixth year #love #lesbians #coming out #secret relationship

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mcu-padawan · 4 years

Text

let it be me

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x gender neutral!Reader

Description: Obi-Wan Kenobi. A renowned Jedi Master across the galaxy. A prized General in the Republic. But to you, he was just a shy boy with eyes as endless as the ocean.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of slavery (SW canon), angst, some fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! I am back!! This took me FOREVER to finish mostly because I was adjusting to school being back in session and being back on campus. Anyways, I am happy to finally be posting this because i feel like i’ve been almost done for the longest lol. Hope y’all enjoy this!

If y’all want to you should listen to “seven” by Taylor Swift for this! It was a huge inspiration (especially the part where she sings about a braid… because… padawans have their braid… ok i’ll go)

(check out my other works!)

large italicized section is a flashback

not my gif

— — — — — —

“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” you say. You’re trying your best to keep up with Aayla Secura, Jedi Master, and one of your best friends. Even though you two hadn’t spent your padawan years together, Aayla is one of the Jedi you were closest to. Having spent almost your entire Jedi years away from Coruscant, Aayla is one of the only constants in your life. You first met the younger Jedi when she traveled to a planet on the Outer Rim to join you on a mission. Since that mission, both of you have made sure to work together in as many missions as possible. You loved spending time with her, and after having spent countless rotations without seeing her, you are especially happy to see her. Except for this moment in time.

“Nonsense! You haven’t been back in Coruscant in years! Everyone needs to know you’re here.” Aayla grabs your hand and pulls you closer to her, guiding you quickly down the halls of the Temple and into what you know will surely be your doom.

You’re not sure where your friend is taking you, but as you keep walking, a feeling of dread starts to settle in your stomach. You start to feel a familiar pull in the Force, a pull that you thought you’d never feel again.

You sit on a bench outside the Jedi temple. Your limbs are sore after all the training for the day. As a newly appointed padawan, you are still getting used to the schedule your new master has you on. Today consisted of grueling physical drills. After a week of meditation training, the physical training was a welcome change of pace, but you are now suffering the consequences of such a change.

After the training ended, your master allowed you to return to your quarters for the day. Instead of going straight back, however, you decided to take a walk outside the temple to catch some fresh evening air. So here you sit, on a bench in the temple gardens, massaging your sore shoulder in hopes of easing some of the discomfort.

You sit in comfortable silence for a while when you hear noise coming from behind some large bushes. You look up to said bushes, trying to see if you catch anything. Your master had been teaching you about reading Force signatures earlier in the week, but you don’t pick up anything tangible. After a few moments, you hear the sounds again. This time, you can decipher the sound of a thud followed by frustrated sighs and mumbling. You decide to get up and investigate, your curiosity getting the best of you.

You walk behind the bush to find a fellow padawan trying to float upside down while keeping his legs crossed and under (on top?) of him. You can see his form is off, and you notice the visible shakiness going through him as he closes his eyes and silently mumbles to himself. You keep watching him for a few moments until he suddenly falls out of his position and onto the floor. He quickly scrambles up, dusting his robes off in visible frustration. It’s not until he looks up that he notices you looking at him.

“Umm... hello there,” the young man says.

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment of being caught spying. You quickly scramble up an answer.

“Hi. I wasn’t spying you know.” You mentally curse yourself at the obviously flustered response.

“Right. Well, I’m sorry you had to see that.” He mumbles the last half, looking down and dusting his robes in discomfort.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you say as you move closer to him.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service,” he says and looks up at you. The two of you make eye contact and you feel your breath leave your body.

The bluest eyes you’ve ever seen capture you. You feel like you can’t look away from the eyes of a young man you just met. You feel a tug towards him, but you can’t exactly describe what the tug is. You only know that you feel like you’ve known Obi-Wan Kenobi your whole life.

“What... what were you doing behind the bushes?” You decide to break the silence, if only to prolong the time you have to look at him.

He laughs and averts his eyes, a ting of pink brushing his cheeks. “I was working on a new meditation drill my master taught me. Well, I guess it’s not new... I’ve been trying to figure this out for a while. As you can see, I haven’t been successful.” You can tell he’s embarrassed, as he keeps his eyes on anything but your direction. His hands are fidgeting at his side.

You hesitate, unsure how your proposal will sound, but ultimately decide it’s worth a shot. “I- I can help you out, if you’d like.”

He looks up. You’re trapped in the depth of his eyes once again, the pull you previously felt stronger now. You take a couple steps closer to him and continue.

“My master taught me a couple of breathing techniques that helped me out with this exercise. Here, let me show you.” You move to sit on the floor with your legs crossed, motioning for him to do the same. Obi-Wan sits next to you. At this distance, you can feel the warmth that radiates from Obi-Wan. At this distance, you can feel the pull get stronger and know that it’s a product of the Force. At this distance, you feel yourself get trapped inside Obi-Wan’s Force signature, warmth and safety the only words on your mind.

And that’s how it began. Weeks of practicing drills together turned into years of friendship with Obi-Wan Kenobi. You two trained almost daily together, offering comfort after difficult training sessions, confiding in each other secrets nobody else knew. But that was then, and this is now, ten years later, with nothing but memories of those deep blue eyes.

Aayla pulls you into a room. You can only assume a meeting has just wrapped up, given the Jedi chatting. You recognize several faces of Jedi you’ve met throughout your missions. You nod and smile in acknowledgment to those you make eye contact with, but Aayla keeps on pulling you away before you get a chance to give a proper hello.

Aayla finally stops in front of three Jedi. You recognize Kit Fisto, and you’re sure the other Jedi is Luminara Unduli (you hadn’t had the chance of formally meeting her yet). The third figure looks up when you join the group. When you meet his eyes, it takes all your willpower not to gasp.

An ocean, deep and endless, captures you. The pull in the Force you’d been feeling since arriving at Coruscant is as intense as ever, awakening after being dormant for more than 10 years.

You don’t recognize his face. No, the face looking back at yours is not one you remember. Gone is the shy smile of the young man you met all that time ago. Gone is the excited expression of the young padawan you spent each and every day with. Gone is the eager innocence of the man you’d come to know and love.

Instead, the man you face is one who’s had to endure loss, as many other Jedi had due to the war. Years of fighting have taken a toll on this man, it’s evident through the lines surrounding his eyes and the grey hair around his temples. His face is hardened with years of experience as a Jedi, a Jedi who’s seen the true evil in the galaxy.

But his eyes. They’re the same eyes you’ve always known. And they offer the same warmth and safety they did when you first met Obi-Wan Kenobi all those years ago.

“Hello there.”

The rich voice with the unmistakable Coruscant accent breaks you away from your thoughts. You feel heat come up to your cheeks when you realize you’ve been staring.

“Hello Obi-Wan. It’s been too long.”

You stroll the gardens outside the temple, fingers grazing the various plants and flowers growing there. Memories flood your mind. Memories of when you first came to the temple as a youngling. Memories of exploring the temple’s secret passages as a young padawan. Memories of spending your day by Obi-Wan’s side, climbing trees, wrestling in the gardens after dark, gazing up at the night sky and speaking of all the places you’d explore as Jedi, places you promised to explore together.

You stop at a bench and take a seat, trying to clear your mind of moments long gone. Everything had changed after the sudden death of your master while on Er’Kit, a planet distraught by slavery. The loss of your master forced you to become a Jedi Knight suddenly and take over the number of missions assigned to them. What followed was change: you had a chance to travel the galaxy and make a difference in countless planets. But with that change came loss: you hadn’t been on Coruscant for more than ten years, losing the only home you ever knew, and with that the person you knew understood you like no other.

You feel a change in the Force before you hear him. Over the years you had grown skilled at noticing changes in Force signatures. The Force signature headed your way is unmistakable.

He takes a seat next to you, his cloak rustling against yours, his thigh a breath away from your own. The both of you sit in silence for some time, simply readjusting to be in each other’s presence after being apart for so long.

He decides to break the silence.

“When I heard you were coming back to Coruscant I didn’t believe it.”

You chuckle, keeping your eyes on the garden. “I didn’t either. The council had promised me countless times I could return only for something else to pop up.”

“Well there’s no better person than you to lead our efforts in freeing those in captivity. You always were so caring of others.”

You wait a heartbeat before turning to face him and notice he had been looking at you this entire time. Your eyes scan his face, taking him in, really taking all of him in, and looking for the man you had left behind all those years ago. You find him in the warmth of his eyes, present despite all the events the war had brought with it.

“I tried to come back. As much as I knew I needed to continue on the operation, I tried coming back. I need you to know that I tried to contact you, I tried to tell you how sorry I was for —“ You don’t realize you’re rambling, eyes beginning to water, until he puts a hand over yours and soothingly shushes you.

“Shhhh Y/N. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I know. Naboo was a long time ago. You had no control over anything that happened.” His thumb is rubbing circles on your hand, sending chills and warmth through you.

“My only regret is that I wasn’t here with you when you needed it. If only I hadn’t been send on the mission to Er’Kit maybe—“

“Don’t do that to yourself.” One of his hands moves to wipe a tear off your cheek. “My love, you’ve been through so much yourself. I know I wasn’t there then. But I am here now. You’re here now. We’re here now, and that’s more than I could ever hope for.”

Your heart clenches at his words, emotions that had built up and that had been pushed down for years finally surfacing.

“You know, I almost didn’t recognize you,” you tell him. “Look at the man you’ve grown to be Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon would have been so proud.”

“Just as your master would have been proud of the person you’ve become. You’ve done so much for the people of the galaxy. Even if I wasn’t able to say it then, know that I’ve always been proud to know one of the best Jedi this galaxy has seen.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“As I have missed you, my darling.”

You can’t hold back anymore, so you lean in to hug him. Obi-Wan wraps his arms securely around you, enveloping you in his warmth and in his Force signature. Though its been too long since you’ve felt his embrace, it feels as if you’ve never left his side.

“I’ve always cared for you Obi,” you whisper into his shoulder. “Deeply.”

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you, my sweet. My life is a million times better with you in it. I’m glad you’re finally home.”

Home. You used to think the Jedi temple was home. But now you realize you’d been wrong. Home wasn’t a place for you, but a person.

He didn’t need to say it. His embrace, his warmth said it all. Let me be your home.

“I’m glad I’m home.”

-------------------

Tags (ps feel free to ignore / lmk if you’d like to be removed)

@anakin-danvers @acciokenobi @obirain @goldenkenobi @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @cherrykenobi @valkyrieofthehighfae @corellians-only @a-dorin @jediforce @snips-n-skyguy0501 @anakinswhore @sweeetteaa @weirdfangirl2416

#so happy i finally posted this!#i welcome feedback!#usernobie #userkarina #ayatlovesme #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x gender neutral reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars #aileen writes?!#my fic #my work

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inspired-by-the-music · 3 years

Text

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 10: The Flower Who Bloomed in April

Sehun’s POV

Once upon a time, in a year I can’t remember, Lei wrote a note for my birthday that claimed, “All flowers bloom in April.” I guess I’m somewhat inclined to agree. That idea breaks through all of my thoughts and colors them a faint pink whenever winter melts into spring and all of nature seems to celebrate us.

I was considering that old note while pulling my car into the driveway of Lei’s house, which was too big for just her and her mother.

“What is this place?” Chanyeol asked, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Aware that he wouldn’t rest until he received an answer, I said, “It’s Lei’s house,” and braced myself for his predictable (but still annoying) jokes.

Chanyeol almost laughed, and he reached over to ruffle my hair like I was a child. “I should have known that you’d have to visit your little girlfriend!”

The tips of my ears burned as I gnawed on my cheek. I didn’t say anything at first. After the incident at the SM Town concert when I made Lei cry, I decided to just let Chanyeol say whatever he wanted as long as she couldn’t hear. I decided not to waste my energy arguing with him.

I swallowed the uncomfortable lump in my throat. “I told you to drive yourself to your little fling’s house if you didn’t want to make stops.”

Chanyeol watched me grab the small gift box— which I asked Junmyeon to wrap— from the center console. I watched the smirk curl his lips with the realization, “Oh! It’s the princess’s birthday!” He cheered like he cared. “How old is she now?”

When I didn’t dignify him with a response as I forced the box into the pocket of my loose jeans, Chanyeol started to count the years aloud. “Okay, so if you’re turning 23 in two days, that must mean—”

“Eighteen,” I spoke flatly. “Lei is eighteen.”

“Eighteen,” Chanyeol repeated in a low whistle. “That’s crazy! You know, if we were in America, she would officially be an adult now.”

I squirmed in my seat. “Well, we’re not in America,” I reminded him. I told his obnoxious skeptical expression, “And it doesn’t matter how old she is. I’m not holding my breath until she’s an adult because, like I’ve told you a thousand times, we’re just friends.”

I almost said, “We’ll always be just friends,” but it didn’t seem like the right thing to say. Always— never— those words didn’t sound right about Lei except to say that I would always want to be good to her.

“I really don’t understand you.” Chanyeol drummed his fingers on the center console. “Doesn’t it kinda annoy you that there is only one girl who hasn’t been deterred by your resting bitch face—” I narrowed my eyes, and Chanyeol nodded— “yeah, that one!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Doesn’t it bother you that the only girl you’ve never run from— the only girl you’ve ever loved— is too young to be, like, your soulmate or something?”

“No,” I answered honestly, “because I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Probably because I didn’t deny loving Lei, Chanyeol’s jaw dropped. Once I believed that love is just wanting what’s best for someone, it wasn’t hard to admit that I loved Lei. I decided that it would be a shame to allow Chanyeol’s jokes or misunderstandings to pervert something so wholesome.

Although it wasn’t any of his business, I explained, “I’m not here to celebrate Lei’s passage into American adulthood or whatever the hell you’re thinking. Her Mom is still managing Super Junior’s tour abroad, so I promised Donghae that I wouldn’t let her be lonely all day.”

“What, so you’re gonna invite her to tag along with us again?” Almost a decade had passed since I took Lei to the Sanrio store for her tenth birthday, but Chanyeol clung to his grudge against us as if we left him alone in the arcade just yesterday.

I frowned at his childishness. “I doubt that Lei wants to waste her birthday by tagging along on our two-hour drive to your fling’s apartment. I’m just gonna give her a gift—”

“A kiss?” Chanyeol puckered his lips and made disgustingly exaggerated smacking sounds. He laughed while dodging my half-hearted attempt to swat at him.

I didn’t tell Chanyeol that I had gotten Lei a cherry blossom charm because then I would have had to tell him about the charm bracelet I got for her debut, and then he would joke about that too. I wasn’t a sensitive sort of guy— not usually, anyway— but I liked to avoid as many Lei jokes as possible.

I continued, “After I give her the gift, I’ll come right back out. Then I’ll drop you off at what’s-her-name’s place, and—”

“You should stick around,” Chanyeol urged for the thousandth time. “My girl has a friend, and—”

For the thousandth time, I responded, “I’m not interested.”

Chanyeol knew that I was opposed to dating even in the most casual sense of the word, yet he kept encouraging me to meet people who I didn’t want to meet. He kept encouraging me to kiss people I didn’t want to kiss— people who I could probably never develop any real attachment to— people who could probably never develop any real attachment to me. No matter how many times I swore that I wasn’t lonely— and even if I was, shallow physical relationships would fail to fill any void— he didn’t get I didn’t want to open myself up to women who would only ever be strangers.

Maybe I wasn’t opposed to falling in love with somebody who knew me and accepted me, but I was opposed to taking that first step into the unknown. Furthermore, I knew that I wouldn’t find my soulmate— if such a person existed despite my disbelief— through Chanyeol’s hookups.

Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t care that Chanyeol and others tried to fill their voids with people. It’s up to others to behave and experience life as they see fit. It’s not my place to determine whether their relationships are truly fulfilling. It’s just— I knew that kind of thing wasn’t for me. I had never experienced love at first sight, and I doubted very much whether it existed, and it was always clear to me that if I were ever to ‘find love’ — well, love would have to find me because I would never look first, especially not with everyone watching.

“I’m tired,” I said, and it wasn’t technically a lie, “so as soon as I drop you off, I’m going home.”

“Whatever.” Chanyeol shrugged. “If you ask me—”

Figuring that he, like Junmyeon, would try to impress upon me the importance of companionship, I said, “I’m not.”

Chanyeol continued anyway. “This is all a waste of time. I doubt that kid—” he was referring to Lei— “is lonely. I bet that boy with the big head—” he was referring to Lucas— “is in that giant ass mansion with her, eating cake, watching cartoons, or making out on the couch since the Super Junior dudes aren’t around to scare them apart.”

With his words, Chanyeol painted a vivid picture that I couldn’t quite erase from my mind. My stomach turned with my failed efforts, so I reminded myself aloud, “They’re just friends.”

“Believe what you want,” Chanyeol scoffed, “but something is going on. How else is our little princess wrapping him and you and who knows who else around her finger?”

“Just shut up and wait here.” I jumped out of my seat and slammed the door behind me before Chanyeol could say anything else to convince me to punch his face.

He rolled his window down to yell, “Jealousy is not becoming, Sehun!”

For the sake of preserving our friendship, I pretended not to hear him as I climbed the stairs and rang the doorbell. After minutes passed with no response, I figured that Lei had gone out with some friends. Although she claimed Lucas as the only cure for her loneliness, she had surged in popularity among other idols, so she could have been out with anybody. Pushing through my disappointment, I reached for my phone to text her and arrange some other time to meet— probably on my birthday.

Then, before I could press send, her voice beckoned from the other side of the door, “It’s open! Come in!”

She didn’t even ask me to identify myself. What if I was some crazed fan? Because it was her birthday, I suppressed my worry with the reminder that I wasn’t a crazed fan. I wasn’t a stranger. There was no real harm in trusting me.

Still, if she was going to be irresponsible while her Mom and Super Junior were away, I would have to appoint myself as her protector. I would have to drive by to check on her every day until their return; the daily check-in texts would do little to prevent her from inviting strangers into the house.

Nothing in Lei’s tone— except for the giggles, I realize in hindsight— prepared me for what I found behind the door. On the white couch, as if positioned to greet anyone who entered with a scene from nightmares, Lei was pinned under Lucas while SpongeBob played on the widescreen television. I tried to fix my gaze on the scattered cupcake wrappers on the coffee table, but I couldn’t. The scene wouldn’t have been so revolting if a.) Chanyeol hadn’t predicted it, b.) Lucas hadn’t been shirtless, and c.) Lei hadn’t been too busy giving Lucas her brightest smile to notice me, frowning in the doorway.

Maybe it’s best that she didn’t catch me staring at them. Maybe it’s best that she didn’t notice me until I regained my outward composure.

Once I realized that I was witnessing the last thing I ever wanted to see— what I was afraid happened behind closed doors— my heavy gaze crashed somewhere around my feet. In the reflective hardwood floor, I met my own downcast expression. Although I wanted nothing more than to forget how I looked in that moment, I couldn’t turn my head or raise my eyes without confronting the fear— the reality— of seeing Lei so close to, so engrossed with someone who—

Someone who wasn’t me.

My stomach lurched so violently with that thought that I gagged. I rushed to pack that thought, which was too jealous, selfish, embarrassing, and inappropriate to embrace, into a box in a dark corner of my mind where I could never find it again. The problem was that no matter how I tried to avoid that dark corner, I always wandered there with my eyes closed. The thought was strong enough to escape from its box, and it was smart enough to find me, and it was quick enough to chase me, and I was stupid enough to keep running long after it caught me.

I thought that my burning face, which must have been red, could have been cooled by the spring breeze. I thought that I would stop falling— I would stop sinking if I didn’t have to stand in the same room as their laughter. I would have bolted out of the house and away from the spiraling emotions that I never, never expected to experience, but I was paralyzed by Lei’s giggles filling the static air. I was numb with the desire to hear them still, even when I wasn’t the cause. Even when I needed to, I couldn’t walk away.

For a second, I think, my heart stopped. Once it started pounding again, I found the voice to ask, “What’s going on here?” It was lucky that anger— not whatever sadness nagged from that dark corner of my mind— was the primary emotion in my voice. At least, that’s what I told myself.

They stared at me with identical slackjawed, wide-eyed expressions, and I had to roll my eyes because the only alternative was to cry or something. I didn’t cry.

“Hey, Sehun!” Lei turned her smile to me, and I eagerly accepted what I couldn’t return until she hissed, “Get off, Lucas! Don’t you have any idea how bad this looks?”

Was it right to be proud of her for abandoning her laughter for the warning scowl that darkened her features? Was I proud of being the person who, by my voice or presence, forced that distance between her and others— even people like Lucas who I knew were good? Even when I reminded myself that I was just protecting her, I was stiff with guilt. It was my first time feeling that way. I didn’t like it.

“I don’t care how it looks!” Lucas transformed into a little kid when he pouted. He almost looked like Lei used to look. “Just lay still, and let me finish—”

“She said to get off,” I growled at Lucas, knowing that he wasn’t trying to cross inappropriate boundaries. He was completely innocent— almost to the point of stupidity— and I was perverting the situation by assuming the worst.

Lucas didn’t argue with me, though. He didn’t assert himself. He raised his hands in surrender, mouth falling open, and that’s when I saw that he was holding a black marker. That’s when I realized that I hadn’t interrupted any romantic moment. It was all a misunderstanding.

So why didn’t I feel better? Was the thought, the misunderstanding, the imagination that Lei had been close to somebody else terrible enough to ruin the day?

Lucas climbed off of her and stood straight as if to boast the handwriting (which I recognized as Lei’s) sprawled across his chest reading: LEICAS 4 EVA. Leicas— the word fans used to refer to their friendship and alleged romantic attraction. How foolish to make light of such rumors that could damage their reputations.

When Lei stood next to Lucas, I saw not only a tattoo identical to Lucas’s on her stomach, exposed under her white cropped shirt. Bright tattoos marked every inch of skin on her arms, legs, and even on much of her face. On one cheek was a sparkling silver heart drawn around the name Baek, penned by Baekhyun, no doubt. On the other was a larger, sloppier heart drawn around the name Ten. How childish.

As if attracted to the chance to deepen my scowl, Chanyeol barreled through the door. “Sehun, you promised you’d be right back! You said—” He fell silent at the sight of Lei. “What the hell happened to you, Princess?”

A blush broke out across the bridge of her nose as she scratched at the back of her neck. “Minseokie bought temporary tattoo markers and handed them out to all of the party guests so they could give me tattoos for my birthday! Apparently, he saw something in a movie, and—”

I blurted, “What the hell kind of movies is Minseok watching?”

And Chanyeol blurted, “Party guests?”

And Lucas told him, “Everyone’s out by the pool! Lei turns eighteen today!”

Chanyeol turned to me with a sick smirk as he repeated, “Eighteen, huh?”

I would have glared at him had I been able to tear my eyes away from Lei. Even while I glared at every mark on her body, I knew that the rage fuelling my every thought was an overreaction. I knew that I shouldn’t have wanted to scold Minseok for encouraging Baekhyun, Ten, Lucas, and everyone else at the party to make their mark on Lei.

“Come here!” Chanyeol called her toward us, holding his hand out for Lucas to give him the marker.

Because Lei and Lucas were foolish enough to obey, I had to intervene before Chanyeol could join the trend of writing on her. He probably would have written some insult on her skin for everyone to see, so I didn’t feel bad about snatching the marker and stuffing it into my pocket. “She’s a girl, not a piece of paper.”

“Come on, Sehun!” Chanyeol whined at my reaction before another smirk twisted his lips. “You’ll get your turn to mark the birthday girl!”

Lucas’s jaw dropped, and Lei grimaced, and I would have yelled at Chanyeol myself if Lei hadn’t beat me to it.

“Way to make it pervy, Chanyeol!” She rolled her eyes at him as she crossed her arms. When she rounded on her bare heels, deliberately whipping her ponytail, I caught the bright pink lettering on her shoulder reading, quite simply, “Yuta’s.” Something about that made my blood boil.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo’s deep voice preceded him. He stomped into the living room carrying a tray of uncooked meat and pointed his glare at me and Chanyeol. “Who invited you two?”

While I wondered just how many boys lurked around Lei’s house, Chanyeol retorted, “Well, it wasn’t you, Minseok, or Baekhyun!”

Kyungsoo didn’t bat an eyelash at Chanyeol’s harsh tone. Grinning faintly as he met Lei’s eyes, he shrugged. “Nobody ever invites Baekhyun, but he somehow manages to crash every party.”

Although nobody was looking at him, let alone talking to him, Lucas lowered his sunglasses over his eyes and chirped, “I like Baekhyun!”

“Anyway—” Kyungsoo resumed glaring at me and Chanyeol after smiling at Lucas— “I’m not going to allow you two to ruin the perfect pool party that Minseok and I planned for months at Manager Kim’s request!”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed at Kyungsoo. “Well, we didn’t want to come to this stupid party anyway! Come on, Sehun!” He wrapped his hand around my arm and tried to pull me out the door that he left open, but I wouldn’t budge.

Tugging out of Chanyeol’s grip, momentarily forcing myself to pretend that others weren’t watching, I met Lei’s gaze head-on and said, “I didn’t mean to crash your party. I only wanted to tell you happy birthday. I didn’t mean—”

I didn’t mean to slip into a fight, but I didn’t say that.

“I didn’t know—”

When I pulled into the driveway, I didn’t know that I was walking into a situation where I would have to compete with Lucas and Baekhyun and Ten and Minseok and Kyungsoo and Yuta and who knows who else for her attention. Obviously, I didn’t say that either.

Chewing on my tongue, burning under everyone’s stares, I wheezed, “I’m sorry.” That was all I said those days. It never got easier.

Tugging at the ribbon in her hair, Lei said, “It’s okay, Sehun,” even though it wasn’t— even though my apology was incoherent. She tried to bite her smile as she said, “You can stay if you’re not busy.” I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t smile at me if she wanted to.

I would have dropped everything, said anything, done anything to inspire her to give me the smile that always used to be mine, but Chanyeol tried to speak on my behalf again.

Hands on his hips and thoroughly unapologetic, Chanyeol said, “Sorry to break it to ya, Princess, but your Prince Charming promised to drive me across town to meet up with my girl.”

“Your girl?” Kyungsoo and Lucas parroted. Lucas spoke with an open-mouthed grin, and (beneath his sunglasses) hearts probably gathered in his eyes. Meanwhile, Kyungsoo spoke through a tense frown, eyes devoid of everything but sheer annoyance.

For the first time I could remember, Lei was the first to look away. “Hey,” I said so quietly that nobody else in the room noticed. Lei heard, though, and she looked up instantly despite the distance between us. I said, “Don’t worry. I only make cross-town trips for true love.”

Her smile inspired my own even after Chanyeol focused his glare on me. I tossed my keys to him. “Feel free to take my car or call an Uber or something.”

“Are you serious?” He gawked at me when I nodded my head. “You’re staying? Just because she asked you to?”

Meeting Lei’s smile, I reasoned, “It’s her birthday,” but I knew that I would have done anything she asked any day of the year. Maybe that wasn’t how things had always been— or maybe it was— but I decided once and for all that I would be responsible for as many smiles as possible from then on.

As if he heard my silent vow, Chanyeol shook his head before shouting, “Well, I’m not staying!” He slammed the door on his way out.

When Lei winced at the sound, Lucas threw a protective arm around her shoulders. Watching her lean into his embrace, I wondered if she would have been comfortable enough to lean on me if I were the one standing by her side. Knowing that I would never reach out to her first, I tried to comfort her from afar by reminding her that she didn’t have to care about Chanyeol’s outburst.

I didn’t get the chance to say anything. Kyungsoo filled the silence. “If you’re going to stay, Sehun, do me a favor. Grab the other tray off the kitchen counter. And Lei—” his entire face changed— brightened— when he said her name. I wondered if I ever looked that happy when I said it. “Can you grab the cup of sliced watermelon and give it to Mark?”

Stepping out of Lucas’s embrace, Lei winked at Kyungsoo and saluted him. “You got it, Soo!”

Because he was usually opposed to being called anything other than Kyungsoo or D.O., I almost expected him to correct her or at least tell her not to wink at him. He didn’t. Kyungsoo winked back at her. “Lucas, can you come open the back door for me?”

Lucas ran to help Kyungsoo, and I followed Lei as she skipped into the kitchen. She spun behind the counter, grabbed the clear plastic cup containing sliced watermelon, and— after popping a piece into her mouth— caught me staring at her. Eyes widening, she held the cup out to me and offered through her mouthful, “Want one?”

I shook my head, and she shrugged, giggling, “Your loss, Sehun!”

She was set to dash out the back door, but she stopped when I asked, “Why don’t I have a nickname?”

“What?” She blinked at me, smile fading until I grinned at her. With my encouragement, she smiled that genuine smile that deepened her laugh lines and wrinkled her eyes.

“You call Minseok ‘Minseokie,’ Kyungsoo ‘Soo,’ and Baekhyun—” I pointed to the silver heart on her cheek— “‘Baek.’ So why am I just plain old Sehun?”

“I dunno.” She furrowed her brow and looked up at me. “What do you want me to call you?”

I mimicked her tone. “I dunno. I can’t come up with my own nickname, Lei.”

She pointed out, “You don’t call me by any nickname either. Chanyeol calls me ‘kid,’ and ‘princess,’ but you’ve always called me Lei.”

As if she didn’t know, I told her, “Chanyeol calls you those things just to be an asshole.”

She playfully gasped, “Language, Sehun!” She swatted at me and laughed when I cried out in exaggerated pain.

To get our conversation back on track, I said, “Everyone else calls you Lei.”

She said, “Well, you’re not everyone else to me, Sehun,” with such an emphasis on my name that I swear I felt it all at once— every emotion she ever spent on me. To this day, I haven’t stopped feeling it.

Trying to distract myself, I reached for the other tray that Kyungsoo piled high with meat. I tried not to cringe when I confessed, “I’ll always call you Lei because it’s the prettiest name I’ve ever heard.” And while she was busy gawking at me, I took the chance to run away in the futile hope of escaping further embarrassment.

I have always regretted leaving Lei alone in the kitchen because of how nearly impossible it was to get her attention outside where NCT boys seemed to multiply by the second. After dropping the tray off with Kyungsoo, who manned the grill while wearing a novelty apron whose punchline made no sense, I sat back in a lounge chair under an orange umbrella and tried to calm the weird palpitations in my chest.

From that chair, I watched Minseok make his rounds around the pool with a handheld camcorder. A smile grew on his face when we locked eyes, and he almost tackled one of the NCT kids— Taeyong, I think— on his way over to me.

Holding the camera just inches from my face, he asked, “Is there anything you wanna say to the birthday girl?”

I stuttered, “Um— happy birthday— Minseok, what are you doing?”

“I’m immortalizing the best pool party ever!” He whirled around to capture footage of Johnny leaping off of the diving board. “Oh, look!” He whirled around again to record Lei walking out of the house, cup of watermelon in hand. “Here comes the birthday girl!”

Her surprised expression was short-lived. Her free hand waved to the camera as she asked, “Aren’t you hot, Sehun?”

As a matter of fact, even when shielded by the umbrella, I was in danger of sweating to death. Still, I politely shook my head. “I’m fine, birthday girl.”

“You’re supposed to always call me Lei, remember?” Lei teased, and — of course— Minseok cackled as he filmed my resulting blush. “Seriously, Sehun, if you’re hot, you can borrow some swim trunks from Lucas’s room and jump in the pool.”

I repeated, “Lucas’s room?” but Lei didn’t respond, and Minseok didn’t film my stunned reaction because he was too focused on the boy who approached Lei.

“Whatcha doing there, Ten?” She took a cautious step away from him, and he batted his eyelashes as he smiled at her.

“Turn around, Lei,” he bossed. “I wanna give you another tattoo.”

Her bangs fell into her eyes when she shook her head. Cupping her cheek, she replied, “I think you gave me enough of a token to remember this day by, thanks.”

Minseok, Ten, and I snorted.

“I’m being serious this time,” Ten swore, smile melting into an earnest expression that almost anyone would fall for. “Turn around, and I’ll give you a serious tattoo.”

Lei rubbed the base of ner neck and averted her gaze from him. She said nothing until I urged, seeing that curious spark in her eyes, “Go for it.” She and Ten turned to face me, and I promised, “If he draws something stupid, I’ll mark it out.”

Ten brandished a glittering sky blue marker, and Lei turned her back to him with a weary sigh. “If you draw something stupid, Ten, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ten grabbed Lei by the waist to pull her closer. When he glanced over at me and caught my cautionary scowl, he smirked. “You and your boyfriend have me absolutely terrified, Lei. I’ll be a good boy.”

“Boyfriend?” Lei repeated in a gasp. She looked back at Ten, followed his gaze to me, and went pink in the face. “Oh.” A tiny smile played on her lips after she looked away from me. She never reacted that way when people mistook Lucas for her boyfriend. “Get your facts straight, Ten. Sehun is my Guardian Angel. Don’t taint our pure loving friendship with your filthy mind.”

Minseok repeated, “Guardian Angel,” looking to me for a reaction. I shrugged and looked away from him, but my smile spoke for itself.

“Oh, I see.” Ten nodded, still smirking. “How sweet. Anyway, what do you want me to draw?”

Lei shrugged. “You’re the artist, aren’t ya?”

“Well, you didn’t like my last masterpiece.” Ten traced his thumb over his heart on her cheek and laughed when she swatted him away. “So help me out a bit here. What’s your favorite thing in the world?”

Again, Lei shrugged, and Ten turned to me. “Well, what do you think, Guardian Angel? What’s Lei’s favorite thing?”

I didn’t have to glance up to see its faint shape in the sky to know the answer. “The moon.”

“How ‘bout it, Lei?” Ten barely glanced at her smile before penning a small crescent moon on the nape of her neck. After dropping the marker into the pocket of his black swim trunks, he puckered his lips to blow air on the tattoo.

Before I could scold him (and Minseok for filming such promiscuity) Lei rounded on Ten. “That wasn’t a part of the deal, you pervert!”

The flames in her eyes should have scalded him, but Ten didn’t flinch as he hummed, “I dunno what you’re talking about, silly.” He was bold enough to smile at her, and something about that gesture slightly quelled the fire in her eyes. “I was just helping the ink dry!”

Unconvinced, Lei blinked at him, and Ten winked at her before strutting away. Peering into Minseok’s camera, she griped, “The nerve of some boys!” and giggled before walking off, I assumed, to find Mark and give him the cup of sliced watermelon.

I swear, Minseok winked at me before he left in pursuit of the next exciting exchange to immortalize on tape. As I sat back in my chair, trying to come to terms with the fact that I had just watched somebody flirt with Lei out in the open, Lucas crash-landed into the chair nearest to me.

The chair was far away enough that he had to raise his voice to talk to me. “If you’re hot, you can get some swim trunks out of my room.”

“Your room?” I raised an eyebrow at him, but he wasn’t looking at me.

“Yep.” He rested his hands behind his head. “My room has an Avengers poster on the door, so—”

I interrupted to ask, “You have a bedroom in Lei’s house?”

Lucas nodded like it wasn’t a big deal. When I rolled my eyes and started slipping into annoyance, Lucas swore, “My intentions— they’re still friendly.”

Flatly, I told him, “Friends usually don’t move in together as teenagers.” I don’t know how true that is, but I believed it when I said it.

“Then maybe my intentions are — what’s the word? — familial.”

When I didn’t respond except to cross my arms over my chest, Lucas leaned over his seat to whisper— if you can really call it a whisper when he talked so loudly, “There is nobody here that you should be jealous of. We’re all friends, and everyone knows that Lei is totally hot—” I grimaced— “and sure, some of us are dumb enough to try to take a shot with her, but we all know about her dating ban. We all know that she would only make an exception for one person. None of us have been dumb enough to believe even for a second that the exception would be us.”

I started to tell him that I wasn’t jealous of anybody, but the words died in my mouth when I caught him looking at me over his glasses as if to imply that I was the one for whom she would cast aside logic and principles.

Although Lucas hadn’t said so explicitly, I hissed, “You should do a better job of guarding her secrets.”

Leaning back into his seat, he replied, “She doesn’t consider her feelings for you a secret.”

I couldn’t argue because he was right. As if it were all too easy— as if she couldn’t keep the words to herself— as if she didn’t want to leave the words unsaid— she told me, “You’re the handsomest person I’ve ever seen,” and “I haven’t outgrown my crush on you,” and, “I love you,” and she said my name in that way that made my heart swell, and—

I almost think that if somebody loves you the way Lei loved me, you have to surrender to love too. Maybe not at first, maybe not all at once, but eventually all of those years of being loved so completely, so unconditionally— they surrounded me, and maybe I didn’t want them to end.

In that moment when I couldn’t quite admit that I would also make an exception for one person, I could admit that if Lei wanted to love me where the whole world could watch— if she wanted to follow me again— if she wanted to hold my hand in the dark again— if she wanted to lean on my shoulder and trust me with all of her troubles again— if she wanted to take the first step toward me, I would never again try to stop her.

I was distracted from my romantic thoughts by an ear-splitting scream, a loud splash, and Lucas scrambling to sit upright in his chair and yell, “Dude, Johnny, Lei can’t swim!”

I could only shake my head. How stupid to live in a house with a huge pool without learning to swim. Obviously, I set aside my frustration and fascination that Lei had lived through childhood to jump out of my chair. I would have dove into the pool— wearing my jeans with my phone and her gift tucked into the pockets— but I stood still once Lei resurfaced, clinging to Johnny. They laughed so hard that water shot out of their noses.

Once I sat back in my seat and started to catch my breath, I mentally cursed Lei for being so irresponsible. Maybe she could stand to be careless enough to laugh in the face of near-death, but I couldn’t stand to watch it. If I was going to love her— out loud or in that dark corner of my mind— she needed to be more careful for my sake.

As soon as she found her footing in the shallow waters, she struck Johnny’s arm once, twice, three times until— still laughing— he finally released her from his embrace and allowed her to climb out of the water.

Staring down at him from higher ground, she yelled, “You ruined my shirt, Johnny!” And she wasn’t wrong. The white cropped top— now translucent— clung to her body like a second skin.

“Sorry!” Johnny grinned at her, and— again— the rage in her eyes was extinguished. “I didn’t really think about that when I pulled you into the water.” Johnny was polite enough to train his eyes on her face, but I noticed that many of the other boys allowed their eyes to drift lower.

Lei must have noticed too. After sticking her tongue out at Johnny, earning more of his boisterous laughter, she retreated to an abandoned corner by the pool. After ensuring that nobody was watching, she peeled off the white shirt to reveal the top half of her black bathing suit. Somehow, to my disappointment, all of her tattoos remained intact after being submerged in water.

From his place in the center of the pool, where he laid in a pink donut-shaped inner tube, Baekhyun whistled, “Take it off, Lei!”

When all heads turned to her at Baekhyun’s urging, she pressed the soaked shirt flat against her chest and dashed toward me and Lucas. It was kind of funny, charming in a way, that she could be so modest at a pool party where everyone— excluding me, Kyungsoo, and Minseok— was proudly shirtless.

Lucas said, “She’s really something, isn’t she?”

My face burned scarlet with the realization that anybody could have caught me staring at her. Anybody could have misinterpreted my motivations. Before I could say anything to Lucas, Lei was in earshot. I had to swallow my embarrassment.

“Move over, Lucas,” she wheezed, standing over him. When he only grunted in response, she frowned and climbed over one of his legs— which were placed on either side of the chair— to sit between them. She crossed her legs and turned her back to the pool.

“Are you asleep or something?” Lei leaned forward to lift his sunglasses, but Lucas swatted her hand away.

“No,” he answered, “I’m just trying to relax, and—” Lei lifted his sunglasses anyway, and Lucas whined, “back up, dude! You’re dripping pool water all over me!”

“Boohoo,” Lei mocked, poking her bottom lip into a pout. “I just got yanked into the pool by goofball Johnny, and then Baekhyun saw my bathing suit, and—”

“Dude.” Lucas’s calm voice thawed the anxiety etched into Lei’s features. More than ever, it was clear why they were close. “You look great! Calm down a bit.”

Lei raised her eyebrows uncertainly, tracing one of the tattoos on her thigh. “Really? You think I look great?”

Something about that bothered me. Did Lei have no idea that she was beautiful? Did the voices of those bullies from her trainee days still follow her? Had she fallen into the trap of reading online hate comments?

I didn’t know, and I never would have known how to approach the topic. I never would have known how to convince her that she was radiant inside and out. I get that beauty is usually one of those subjective concepts, but, objectively, Lei was beautiful. Anyone could have seen it from her ability to draw everyone’s attention without saying a word.

“Yeah!” Lucas assured her with a smile. “Who knows how many people were checking you out!”

I knew that he was eyeing me behind his reflective lenses, so my eyes darted away from their scene to look up at the sky.

Lei clicked her tongue. “I don’t want people to check me out—”

Before she could finish her complaint and I could feel culpable for my part in making her so neurotic, Kyungsoo tripped toward us, flip-flops slapping against the wet pavement. “I heard a scream and a splash and Baekhyun’s whistle! I would have come to check on you earlier, but the pork— I—” His eyebrows twitched as he took in Lei’s disheveled appearance. “What happened to you?”

Lei seemed reluctant to fuel Kyungsoo’s protective rage. She passed her shirt to Lucas and mumbled, “Wring that out, please.”

I knew that Kyungsoo would stand there, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, until he received an answer, and then lunch would never be finished. Stomach growling, I rose to my feet, grabbed the towel that was draped over the back of my chair, and took a protective stance behind Lei to shield her from curious stares drifting her way from the pool.

Dropping the folded towel onto Lei’s lap, I told Kyungsoo, “Johnny pulled Lei into the deep end of the pool, and—”

“WHAT?” Kyungsoo’s face went white before burning crimson. “But Lei can’t swim!”

Lei forced a smile. “I’m okay, Soo. Johnny kept a hold on me the whole time, and—”

Kyungsoo didn’t seem to hear her. He waddled to the edge of the pool, formed a megaphone around his mouth with his hands, and announced, “Attention, party people!”

In the process of lowering my head in embarrassment, I noticed that Lucas was wringing Lei’s shirt with unnecessary force. Lei was too busy drying her hair with the towel to notice and correct him, so I set to unbuttoning my shirt to offer it to her.

“Do NOT pull people into the pool— especially not the birthday girl! If you do, Minseok will tell you to get out and go home!” Kyungsoo gestured to Minseok, who forced his smile into a threatening glower that probably threatened nobody before Baekhyun yelled, “You don’t scare us!”

Minseok took a step toward Baekhyun, eliciting a scream. I rolled my eyes, and Kyungsoo shook his head before walking back to the grill.

“Lucas!” Lei shrieked and snatched her shirt from him. When she held it against her chest, what once fit perfectly was now two or three sizes too large. “What did you do?”

His only response was, “Oops.”

Lei launched the balled-up shirt at his chest, and her visible disappointment only faded when I, stifling my laughter, dropped my unbuttoned shirt over her shoulders. The sky blue fabric suited her better than me; it made sense that she should keep it, then.

She turned around, looked up at me with wide eyes, and said, “Thank you, Sehun.”

The voice that she spoke to me with was softer than the one she trusted to Ten, Johnny, Minseok, Kyungsoo, and — yes— even Lucas. Something about that made my heart swell.

I nodded to say, “You’re welcome,” because I couldn't string two words together to make a sentence when Lei was looking at me like that.

“Wow, man!” Lucas beamed at me too. “You’re a real hero!”

When Lei turned away from me to laugh at Lucas’s reaction, I crossed my arms over my plain white t-shirt. I guess I was disappointed yet again by her fleeting attention. I just didn’t hold it like I used to.

She frowned at her shirt in Lucas’s hands. “Well, you might as well just throw it away now.”

“Throw it away?” Lucas hugged the shirt against his bare chest. “Just because it doesn’t fit you anymore doesn’t mean it should end up in the trash!”

Lei’s eyebrows shot up at his passionate argument. “What? Do you want it or something?” Lucas nodded his head eagerly, and Lei shrugged before giving him his way. “Whatever. Just don’t hang it up in my closet when it’s your turn to do the laundry.”

“Yay!” Lucas squealed as he flew off of the chair. “Thanks, Lei!”

Smiling, she watched him dash into the house. Then, she took his place in the chair. She pressed her back against the chair, crossed her legs, and draped the towel over them before looking up to see that I was no longer behind her. I was before her. She gasped, raised her hands to shield her eyes from the sun, and the sleeves of my shirt— which were too big for her— slid down her arms.

“Hey, Sehun.” She couldn’t quite smile while squinting her eyes. “Having fun?”

I moved a few steps to the left to block out the sun, and she lowered her hands and laid them flat in her lap.

“I’m having a blast.” Was I being sarcastic? Probably. But I was happy to spend time with her then with few distractions.

“Aren’t you tired of standing?” She tilted her head aside. Patting the space on the chair before her, she suggested, “You can sit with me if you want. Or you can grab that chair over there, and—” She bit on her tongue in surprise when I sat on the edge of her chair at the earliest invitation.

Glancing around at the thriving party, I observed, “You have a lot of friends.” Of course, I knew it, but knowing it in theory was a lot different from seeing it in real life.

“They’re nice.” She smiled, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It reminded me of the void in her chest that she tried to fill with Lucas. It reminded me of the secret that, at least in Donghae’s mind, threatened to clear out this gathering of flirtatious well-wishers.

Suddenly, she sat up straight and motioned for me to move closer. “Come here, I have to tell you a secret.”

Forgetting for a moment that I didn’t want to learn another secret for the rest of my life, I obeyed her. She whispered, “I think they like me because a.) I have a pool, and b.) no matter how much they flirt, I’ll never give in. You know, some people are into that— chasing somebody they can never catch.”

She was flirting with me, I realized, when she winked to mask the blush staining her face.

I tried to flirt back. “Are you into that?”

When she sighed, dropped our eye contact, and forced another smile, I realized that she did not yet know that she caught me. It was still the beginning of reimagining her. It was the beginning of the heart-fluttering moments. I didn’t know where the road into the unknown would lead, but I saw no option other than to follow it— to follow her.

She said, “I was raised to never chase after boys. I’ve only ever followed one—” she nudged me— “and I promised not to do that anymore.”

Even without her pointed touch, I would have known that she was talking about me. Despite the deflation in my chest, I praised her. “Good. Don’t follow anybody. Continue on your path, and if somebody wants to walk with you for a while—”

When she poked my cheek, I realized that I was frowning. Her frown mirrored mine. “Don’t look like that, Sehun. It hurts my feelings.”

For her, I forced a smile, and she laughed an airy sort of laugh. “I dunno why you’re so sentimental today, but—” her eyes widened— “oh.”

“Oh?” My forehead wrinkled. “Oh what?” My heart raced with the fear that she was seeing me clearly.

“We’re on the same path right now.” She smiled, and my heart raced with the hope that she was seeing me clearly.

“We’ve always walked together,” I told her. “It’s just—”

Seeing that I had gone stiff with anxiety, she said, “It’s okay, Sehun. I understand.”

I couldn’t quite believe that she understood, but because I didn’t know the words to explain my feelings, I didn’t say anything.

“It’s probably not going to last.” She didn’t frown, and I couldn't understand how she could smile while saying, “It— we— I know that we won’t be in the same place at the same time forever, but I’m so happy that you’re here now.”

She was crushing me under the weight of an unfamiliar sadness, but I promised, “I’m happy too,” and it wasn’t a lie.

Still smiling, she said, “You can walk with me anytime, Sehun.”

I can’t explain why remembering that makes me want to cry. She was saying something kind— loving— but her words felt so much like a goodbye. Maybe they were a goodbye to days that were already past— the days when she followed my shadow. It felt so much like she would fade or fly away or find another path or another companion if I took the time to blink.

Fear prompted me to grab her hand as if that touch would keep her within arms reach, within eyesight, with me. Her eyes were rounded and filled with every shining star, and I— I had to look away. I had to play off the act of pure affection by digging the tattoo marker out of my pocket.

“I thought you were opposed to marking me like I’m a piece of paper,” she teased.

Probably blushing, I scoffed. “It’s different when I do it.”

She asked her favorite question: “Why?”

“Because I love you,” I almost said, “and I have to show it somehow.”

Instead, I shrugged, closed my eyes, and tried to think of a drawing that would compete with— no, triumph over all of the others on her body. Ideas didn’t come easily. I didn’t watch dramas or read romance novels or even listen to romantic music that much (or at all), so I had to card through my memories until I remembered a craft I did on Valentine’s Day in the third grade.

Then, we dipped our thumb in red paint and pressed it twice to a piece of paper to make a heart to give to our parents. The idea was profound enough, I guess, since it relied on the concept that like no two fingerprints are identical, no two loves are identical.

Bearing that in mind, I coated my thumb with the marker’s black ink and softly pressed a heart into the skin on the back of Lei’s hand.

I watched her smile at the symbol. Just because I was curious to see whether she would react to me the way she reacted to Ten, I raised her hand to my lips and blew on the heart. She didn’t swat at me, glare at me, flinch away, or say anything. She just watched me.

Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe she would make any exception for me. That probably wasn’t wise or safe, so why did her lapse in judgment make me so happy?

“Okay,” she hummed. She snatched the marker before taking my hand in hers. “Your turn!”

Within the blink of an eye, she had placed her heart on my hand. I wanted to carry it everywhere with me. I wanted to boast it to everybody, but I didn’t know how to do that. I didn’t know who to tell. I didn’t know what to say to make them understand how much it meant to me.

Something about the electricity in Lei’s touch— something about the thought that the heart would fade from sight— sent me springing to my feet with the blurted excuse, “I’m not feeling well.”

It wasn’t a lie. Suddenly, my heart was pounding in my chest, ringing in my ears, and my stomach was knotting and rising and sinking, and my palms were sweating, and there was a lump in my throat, and I was sick. I fished the gift box containing the cherry blossom charm for the bracelet that she still wore— that I hoped she would always wear— out of my pocket. Careful not to allow our skin to touch, almost afraid of the shock, I left it in her palm.

I ran into the house, regretting that I sent Chanyeol away with my keys until I found him sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table.

Through a mouthful of blue icing, Chanyeol asked, “Are you done now?” He glanced over at me and sat upright. “Hey, are you alright? Your face is a little green.”

I shook my head. “I’m sick. I’m going home.”

“Okay. Let’s go, then.” He snatched my keys off the table and stood from the couch. “I was gonna leave, but I don’t know how to drive a stick shift, and—” When I reached out for the keys, he offered, “I’ll drive if you don’t feel good.”

I assured him that I was fine before beelining to the car, keys in hand.

Chanyeol was quiet until I raised my hand to the steering wheel. The moment he saw the heart, he broke into brain-rattling, side-splitting laughter. “Wow.” He wiped amused tears from the corners of his eyes. “I remember doing that craft in, like, first grade. Your girlfriend is real creative.”

Something in my stomach fluttered, and I don’t think I liked it. Tightening my grip on the wheel, I instantly retorted, “It was my idea.” I should have said, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Chanyeol noticed my mistake. “Oh,” he nodded his head sagely, “so she is your girlfriend!”

My face flushed, and my heart pounded again, and all I could think to say was, “Shut up, Chanyeol.”

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years

Text

“Shrieking Shack Ghosts” || YEAR 3 – Ch.28 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 10/16/2020

Word count: 3, 207

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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“Oh, of course you don’t look suspicious at all.” Heather crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot as Harry and Ron came down the stairs towards her. “Who would ever suspect you, carrying your school bag on a Saturday morning?”

Harry moved his bag to rest behind him instead of to his side. He crossed his arms back at her. “I’m just going to do some studying in the library after Ron leaves.” He looked around at the empty corridor but there was no need, everyone was at breakfast already, eager to get the day started.

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll both ‘go study’ today.”

They sat down with everyone and ate, trying to look somewhere between sad and bored and not at all excited to get down to Hogsmeade. They were careful not to look down the table at Hermione, who had told Harry last night she’d tell on him and get the map confiscated if she thought they were leaving the castle. Ron left, winking at them and saying ‘See you soon’, leaving them to finish eating their food slowly, looking miserable, as everyone else got up to leave and line up for Hogsmeade.

Hermione walked up to them, pushing against the river of students and sat down next to Harry, pushing her frizzy hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I really am but you must understand… It’s for your own good.”

“It’s ok. We’re just going to be studying in the library, I guess. Get some homework done so we have more free time.” Harry looked absolutely pitiful as he moved his breakfast around with his fork.

“Alright… I’m sorry.” Hermione got up and hugged Heather before running out the great hall.

The only people left were the second and first years, and a couple of teachers who hadn’t finished breakfast yet. They calmly got up and walked out, making sure to head up the entrance hall stairs before waving down to Ron and Hermione who both waved up at them with very different looks.

They hurried up to the third floor and opened up the one eyed witch. While Harry shoved his bag inside Heather opened up the map and scanned the halls. A tiny set of footprints were heading their way.

“Harry!” she hissed. “Neville’s coming!”

“How close?”

“Harry! Heather!” Neville had spotted them around the corner.

Harry quickly closed the witch’s hump and stepped back. They stood against the opposite wall as far back from the witch as possible to avoid suspicion.

“Neville. You aren’t going to Hogsmeade?” Heather slipped Harry the map and he stuffed it in his pocket. “Oh, I forgot.”

Neville stopped right next to them. “It’s part of my punishment. Hey what are you two doing? We could play exploding snap together! I’ve gotten good… kind of.”

Heather and Harry looked at each other.

Harry nodded. “Oh, that’d be great… But I have that vampire essay to do for Lupin. We’ll be in the library…”

Neville’s eyes brightened. “Oh, could I join? I haven’t done it either – ”

“N-no… oh Harry, remember we did it last night?” Heather put her hand on Neville’s shoulder. “Sorry we can’t work on it together.”

“You could help me with it then!”

It was clear Neville was desperate for company. They must be the only three people in their year not down in Hogsmeade right now. Maybe they could bring him along? Although it’d be hard to hide under the cloak with him… he was a bit larger than Ron and it was hard enough with just the two of them.

“Er – ” Harry was about to respond when Neville gasped and stepped all the way in front of them, looking over their shoulders.

They turned around and saw Professor Snape walked up to them with arms crossed and narrowed eyes.

“And what… are you three doing here?” His eyes slid from Neville to Heather and stayed on Harry. “An odd place to meet up with friends, isn’t it? – Potter.”

Heather watched Professor Snape’s eyes flick to either side of them, to the closed classroom doors, and then to the one-eyed witch a few feet away. He narrowed his eyes at it and raised a single black brow, looking back at them. He looked as suspicious as Hermione had during breakfast, the same doubtful kind of suspicion.

“We didn’t mean to meet up here we just – ” Harry looked at Heather, “…happened to.”

“Really.” Professor Snape drummed his fingers on his elbow and took a few more seconds to cast them wary eyes. “It’s often your habit to turn up in places you aren’t supposed to be in – especially – places you shouldn’t be in.” He looked from Harry to Heather and she looked down. “I suggest the three of you find somewhere else to be, like your common rooms. I believe I should have assigned enough essays to keep you busy this weekend?”

They nodded and turned on their heels, heading away. Harry turned to look back at him as they rounded a corner but Heather pulled him forward. They walked all the way up to Gryffindor Tower when Heather stopped and pulled Harry to a halt.

“Harry, will you drop me off at my common room?”

Neville was holding the portrait open.

“Oh – er – yeah. It’s on the way to the library and… I forgot I left the essay there last night. See you, Neville.”

“I’ll get my textbook down,” he said and went inside.

“I feel bad for lying to him. Can’t we – ”

“No.” Harry pulled her away and took out the map as he went down the stairs. Once they were away from the security trolls guarding the portrait he pulled it up to his nose and squinted at the tiny words. “Passage is clear. Snape’s on the second floor. Why’s he always just walking around?”

They headed down the stairs to the third floor again, examining the map one last time for anyone nearby.

“His office now. And – ” Harry continued. “He examined the statue. D’you think he knows about it?”

Heather opened the witch’s hump and waited for him to clear the map and put it away. “No, or he would have found your bag.” She pushed it aside and walked in, careful not to slip and fall down the incline. She lit her wand the second the statue closed behind her, before they could be cast in total darkness.

The passage walls looked rough where the light hit as they walked, their steps echoing slightly. It was an odd kind of quiet inside, like the whole world was suddenly muffled. Outside the tunnel, walking around even the quietest of passageways, distant talking or laughter or even birds singing and cawing outside could be heard. Inside the tunnel, it was like silence was the permanent state of things and the thought of talking felt rude and disrespectful to the darkness up ahead.

They walked for several minutes before the eeriness set in, and her mind wandered to places it shouldn’t. The same kind of fear that they weren’t alone in the tunnel, and that Sirius Black would be waiting for them some feet ahead crept in more powerfully than the first time they walked through the tunnel. She was leading the way and hesitating with each step she took, holding her wand out as far as she could, willing the light to reach farther ahead.

“D’you think Ron and Hermione will ever be friends again?” she asked, attempting to distract her mind and calm her racing heart as they walked.

“Why would he examine the statue? He must think something.”

She couldn’t believe he was still stuck on Professor Snape. “Harry. He isn’t an idiot you know. All Slytherins know he can smell out trouble a floor away and you’re always getting in the middle of things that get us into trouble. I’m pretty sure I’d be top of his class if he didn’t hold a grudge against me because of you.”

“But I haven’t done anything this year.”

“You’re doing something right now.”

“WE’RE doing something.”

She decided not to respond. They reached the end of the tunnel eventually and, under the invisibility cloak, they emerged out of Honeydukes and looked around for Ron, spotting him sitting on a bench across the street, eating candy.

They walked up to him and Heather kicked his foot lightly. “Here. Finally.”

“What took you so long!” Ron frowned and got up, stuffing his candy back in his pockets. “It’s been an hour.”

They set off down the street walking next to Ron as he tried his best not to look like he was talking to himself.

“Snape was hanging around the statue.”

“Harry thinks it’s weird Professor Snape was suspicious of us.”

“He was suspicious of the statue.”

“If he knew about it he would have told Dumbledore.” Ron tried to keep most of his mouth shut as he talked. “Or he would have hidden in the tunnel waiting to catch you. It would’ve made his day – or life – depending on how many detentions that gets you.”

“Or he’s caught Fred and George around there too.” Heather wondered how Fred and George managed their mischief with him around. She never saw them in the same room together, apart from breakfast and dinner. Maybe they purposefully stay as far away from him as possible… with the map that would have been easy, just taking opposite stairs or walking down different passageways.

“In here,” Ron said out of the corner of his mouth, stopping right outside the Owl Post.

He pretended to look at cards to send to his brother Bill in Egypt while her and Harry looked around. The Owl post was a small looking shop two levels high, except it had only one floor. Walking in, there was a front desk and hundreds of different letter-related things in organized clear drawers all around the first level walls. Then, up high above their heads were hundreds of owls hooting and looking down at them, twisting their heads in curiosity.

Heather had the feeling they could see them under the cloak, but none came down to inspect them, not even when Heather tempted fate and held her arm up under the cloak to see if one would land on it. Harry pinched her and she tried not to yelp, quickly putting her arm back down.

“Where are you?” Ron muttered.

They pulled on his sweater and they left.

“Zonko’s next.”

They followed Ron into the shop and found it incredibly hard to remain hidden surrounded by so many students and children packed all around looking at products. Heather hated it inside, being reminded of the only time they’d been in a toy store with Dudley and his greedy hands touching every toy he could reach. Back then she’d been taller than both Harry and Dudley and was forced to reach up and grab things for him. The fact she nor Harry were allowed to touch anything made the experience much worse.

Harry, however, happily gave Ron coins to buy several jokes and tricks. He stuffed his pockets with Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and Nose-Biting Teacup apiece.

“I hope you aren’t planning on using those.”

“Who are you? Hermione?” Ron said bitterly.

What little Hagrid’s talk did for Ron yesterday had been quickly erased by Hermione’s threat and he was back to hating her. The wind threatened to blow the cloak off them and they decided it’d be best to get away from the town. It was a nice day aside from the cold and Ron thought it would be less scary to visit the Shrieking Shack.

“I tried going up here last time with – well you know who – but the snow made it hard to look at properly. I thought there was someone on the lawn but it was just a snowflake stuck to my eyelash.”

For it supposedly being the most haunted dwelling in all of Britain, it didn’t look so scary. It looked like it was swaying in the wind, ready to topple onto itself any second. The paint was a dark cream color and the roof a light grey. The windows were all boarded up and the door had several chains on it. There were surprisingly no visible holes or missing boards but it still looked like it was falling apart. It looked lonely and sad, not scary.

“Creepy,” Harry said.

“What’s supposed to be so scary about it?”

Ron leaned on the fence and swallowed. “No one can get into it – Fred and George tried of course – but it’s sealed shut. But everyone in town swears at one point or another, they’ve heard terrifying sounds coming from inside. I asked some of the ghosts about it and they say they avoid it and warn students to avoid it too.”

It was the only house on the hill and hidden safely behind a forest of short and thin grey trees with almost black looking leaves all dried but still hanging onto their branches. Whatever noises the town heard must come from something incredibly loud to travel all the way down passed the woods.

“It’s getting hot under here.” Harry reached for the bottom of the cloak when he stopped.

Heather heard Draco before seeing him climb over the hill, walking the dirt path between the tree lines towards them.

“ – remind me about the owl I’ll be getting from my Father. I’m sure the hearings going well. He’s telling them I couldn’t use my arm for three whole months.”

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind them, a little more winded than him from climbing.

“Imagine that big hairy moron trying to defend that stupid bird. ‘He won’ ‘arm anyone, honest. He’s innocent, he is – ‘ can you imagine?” He shook his head and spotted Ron suddenly. His smile turned into a wicked grin and his quick steps slowed and smoothed. “Ah, Weasley. House hunting, are you? Bit of a dream house for you though, isn’t it?”

Ron’s face went red as he scowled. “Leave me alone Malfoy.”

“I supposed it’d be a big step up. Maybe with this one, your family won’t have to all sleep in the same room. And you won’t be sleeping in a cupboard – oh wait, that the Potters, isn’t it?” Draco laughed and looked at Crabbe and Goyle happily as they laughed too.

Heather felt her own cheeks go red at the mention of their old room situation. Ron took a step forward but Harry pulled on the back of his shirt.

“I’ll take care of him,” Harry hissed into Ron’s red ear.

“No!” Heather tried protesting but there wasn’t much she could do unless she wanted Harry to walk away, cloak and all.

Heather followed Harry around behind Crabbe and Goyle and crouched down with him as he picked up mud.

“Don’t,” she tried again but he didn’t listen.

“We were just talking about that oaf friend of yours. Well, you know him best. D’you think he’ll cry at the mention of that hippogriff getting its head – ”

Harry quickly stuck his muddy hand out from under the cloak and flung as hard as he could, hitting the back of Draco’s head, covering his silver-blonde hair with thick brown muck.

Draco whipped around, looking angrily behind them. “What was that!” His anger melted into confusion when his frantic eyes spotted no one.

Harry and Heather had crept back around to stand to their far left. Harry picked up a moss covered stick and flung it, hitting Crabbe wetly on his neck.

“Argh!” Crabe started punching the air, taking quick steps towards them with every punch he gave.

“I think you made the house mad, Malfoy.” Ron leaned against the fence, pointing a thumb towards the swaying shack.

Draco finished rubbing the mud off him when he seized Ron’s sweater. “You’re doing this!”

SPLAT.

“It’s got me!” Goyle wiped green-ish mud off his uniform.

Draco swirled around, looking at Goyle and Crabbe hitting and kicking at the air. Heather was crouching down, covering her mouth with her hands trying not to burst out laughing. Harry was standing above her, ready to throw a stick when one of Crabbe’s kicks caught a bit of the cloak and pulled it down.

Harry quickly caught it at his neck and pulled it back up but Draco had already spotted him, pointing and screaming at where Harry’s head had appeared and then disappeared. Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t seen but ran back down the hill as soon as Draco yelled. Draco ran after them, looking somewhere between angry and scared.

Ron pointed down the hill. “You guys better run! He’s probably on his way to tell on you! Get to the castle fast – ”

“See you!” Harry yelled and pulled Heather up by her arms.

She had been frozen with dread the second Draco had pointed in their direction and screamed. As they ran down the path to Hogsmeade, she couldn’t help but picture him bursting through the doors screaming at the top of his lungs that he’d ‘just seen Potter in Hogsmeade!’ at everyone.

They got down to the town and the first thing she spotted was the apothecary sign swaying in the wind across from the Three Broomsticks.

“Wait!” She ducked out from under and ran in.

If she was going to get in trouble for going into Hogsmeade, then she had to make it at least worth it. She slammed the list down on the counter and huffed at the old man staring at her red and sweaty face. He took it without a word and started putting it all together in a white cloth bag. She could hardly enjoy the experience, thinking about whether anyone would believe Draco. It wasn’t common to have a cloak, and Draco probably thought Harry or any other non-pureblood wouldn’t have one… but Professor Dumbledore knew they did. And she was sure Professor Snape, even if he didn’t know about the cloak, would be highly suspicious of them.

The old man set the bag of ingredients on the counter and waited for her to count up her coins. He gave her a polite nod as she handed them over and picked up her things, running back out of the store. She looked around wildly but found absolutely no hint of where Harry was. Did he leave her?

Just as her panic began to worsen, she felt something push her into the alley between shops and she ducked under the cloak again.

“You’re mad!” Harry hissed. “Let’s go!”

The apothecary hadn’t taken any longer than five minutes max, but it felt like she had doomed them already. She stuffed the bag strings through her skirt belt loops and tied it closed, stuffing the bag up into her sweater and stuffing the sweater end into her skirt, keeping the bag of ingredients tucked inside neatly.

They ran inside Honeydukes, slipped in the back shop door, and down the stairs into the trap door. Heather could only hope, as they ran as fast as they could, wands lit and extended out, that the tunnel was a shorter distance than the path leading up to the school.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Chapter List

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#harry potter #heather potter #pro snape #severus snape x oc #severus snape x reader #severus x oc #severus x reader #snape x oc #snape x reader #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fan fiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction

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charmtion · 4 years

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I somehow missed the fact that you don't watch GoT, so now I'm really curious about how/when you fell in love with Jonsa? Is it a "crack ship" for you or one you genuinely like the idea of/think will happen in the books?

I have probably watched a grand total of approx. 11 minutes (🙈) of screen-time from various YouTube clips and gifs and the like on this site! I adore the aesthetic of GoT, the imagery, the little show-snippets I catch from time to time… but I’ve got no burning desire to watch it till the books are finished — a naïve hope, I know — could be waiting a looooong time. But I am nothing if not patient! Now! Onto the ask... *clears throat*

Book-verse Jonsa is a different beast to show-verse Jonsa, in my opinion at least. George R.R. Martin is a master world-builder. Master word-weaver. Master plotter. There are no lingering looks that burn on-screen. No subtle stares translated via cameras. No fuck-me eyes and fiery arguments in tents and solars. For one, Jon and Sansa are hundreds of leagues apart even by the end of ADWD. Probably still years apart from being reunited. They are also younger than their show-verse equivalents. Their trajectories are very different. Their traumas are different in subtle ways, too. Yet despite these differences in circumstance and distances in space and time, they occupy — share — a really fascinating territory: a reciprocal reality.

This reciprocity of their lived experience(s) has always resonated with me — as has the outright reversal that takes place between them. High-born daughter to a lowly bastard of rocks and sheep-pellets. Bastard-born boy to a capable and respected Lord Commander. Reversal, to be true — but reciprocity, too. Crow and little bird. Stone and Snow. Lady and Commander. Queen and King(?????) This innate circling of each other’s place in society, the sidesteps their character-arcs take… ultimately I think the edges of their circles will meet to form a new one.

Why? Because in many ways they are each other’s mirror. Sansa starts as Catelyn reborn. But she grows into something different than her mother’s miniature. Sharper. Stronger — gentler, too. She has tact and courage. She knows how to survive. She is so clever it is startling — especially the subtle things and treasons she picks up on in any and all exchanges between lords in the Vale. Now Jon. Jon starts as Ned. Wants to be Ned. Looks so much like Ned it makes Catelyn sick with fury. But he moves on. Becomes something different. Something sharper. Stronger — gentler, too. He has tact and courage. He knows how to survive — even if survival means shedding honour and choosing to bend to spite and vengeance. He is so clever it is startling — especially the way he twists situations to his best advantage, how he plays kings, makes parlays, switches babes. You see where I am going here with the two of them? They are a mirror-image in many ways. Two halves of a circle. Brave. Gentle. Strong.

✨ [I have more to say about that central motif — brave, gentle, strong — and how it relates to the numerous characters and interactions Jon and Sansa entertain (and suffer…) throughout the books… but I won’t bore you with that — I am aware I am already rambling!] ✨

So to stop my rambling and sum up (and actually answer your question sorry sweet!!) when I first read ASOIAF — about 10 years ago now gulp — I didn’t connect the two romantically really. I read Sansa purely as a child and never focussed on who she might end up with. I adored (and still adore!) Val’s character, thought her a natural fit for Jon… but then over years of re-reading (and a fair bit of fanfic theory and dabbling) I have come to view Jonsa as a distinct canon possibility — and my absolute OTP. Do I read every passage of every Jon or Sansa chapter and make detailed inferences as much as other Jonsa book-verse shippers? Probably not. Sansa’s snow-castle passage in the Eyrie, for instance, has always carried two very distinct underlying readings for me: snow as in Snow as in Jon Snow… or snow as in Winterfell. Home. Grey and white. The North. Her heart — the place it will come to beat within, rule over, find some rest after the weary weight of years and whatever horrors WoW will sweep upon it (and us!). Do I think either reading is possible? Yes. Do I think they are reciprocal? Hell yes. Mirror-image, honey. Mirror-image. Full circle. All that jazz. Just like Jon and Sansa themselves... ⭕

I’ll stop now, sorry — but thank you so much for the ask, my dear; I hope there’s some semblance of sense in that massive word-splurge mess — and apologies if this is seems like token-knowledge not worth repeating! ❤️

#ask box #jonsa #book jonsa #mirrors and circles and all that good stuff

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raz-b-rose · 3 years

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Hey so,, the Bible states that Eating burgers is a sin Women speaking in church is a sin Wearing blended fabric is a sin Eating SHRIMP is talked about more in the Bible as a sin than homisexuality is Women wearing pants is a sin Writing in your Bible or defacing it in any way is a sin Do some research on your own religion if you're going to preach it

Thank you for asking, I love this opportunity to help bring understanding to commands such as these. Thank you for your patience, lets get to it.

I can understand the overwhelming presence that is Gods word. Its a big book full of a lot of things that take a lot of cross referencing on occasion. After all, it is just one continuous story of God who was and is and always will be.

Warning, there's a lot.

Anyway there is a simple answer to all of those and it starts all the way back at Abraham. Some quick condensed history. God chose Abraham to establish the Hebrew/Jewish people. He faithfully followed Gods commands, and Isaac was born from his faithfulness and for Gods promise. A promise that Abraham’s offspring would cover the earth.

Isaac then had Esau and Jacob. Jacob then had 12 sons, Joseph the youngest was used to bring the Israelite people to Egypt. Where the Egyptians turned them into slaves.

Now enter Moses. God used this man to bring them out of Egypt and towards the promise land. This is where God starts to establish what would set his chosen people apart from the rest of the world. The old laws were there for their faithful obedience and for outsiders to know “thats an Israelite”.

The entirety of the OT speaks of Gods character, plans for salvation, and absolute authority. The laws are a reflection of that as well.

so now we have the group of laws God had Moses establish.

Now Jesus fulfilled the OT law.

Matthew 5:17-20 (Jesus speaking)

17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18 For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least vin the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great vin the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Part of that fulfillment was the laws on food. Food was used to represent Holiness/ cleanliness. Everything about them had to be clean (their bodies, their homes, their sacrifices, etc.) Blemish free.

The Pharisees had twisted the laws to become legalistic and strict. An example would be here

Mark 7:14-23 (Jesus speaking)

14 And he called the people to him again and said to them, “Hear me, all of you, and understand: 15 There is nothing outside a person that by going into him can defile him, but the things that come out of a person are what defile him.”[e]17 And when he had entered the house and left the people, his disciples asked him about the parable. 18 And he said to them, “Then are you also without understanding? Do you not see that whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile him, 19 since it enters not his heart but his stomach, and is expelled?”[f] (Thus he declared all foods clean.) 20 And he said, “What comes out of a person is what defiles him. 21 For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, 22 coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. 23 All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.”

Food isn't what makes us unclean anymore, but rather the condition of our heart.

There is also a lot of debate over Acts 10:9-16

But I believe this passage has a double meaning. God is reminding Peter that he does not need to be legalistic to be “clean” anymore. Therefore the laws for food were fulfilled. This is reflected in his interpretation of the vision in verses 27-29.

Remember there was clean food and unclean food. Same for people. You weren't to associate with “unclean people”. Jesus fulfilled this law by opening the path to God to everyone, not just Jews. God gave the great commission to go out into all the world to everyone to preach the good news. This meant that anyone now had direct access to God, and the Jews no longer had to go through the extra steps to seek forgiveness. Salvation is within everyone's grasp, no matter what.

The command for blended fabric fits with these as well.

Deuteronomy 22:9-11

“You shall not sow your vine yard with two kinds of seed, lest the whole yield be forfeited, the crop that you have sown and the yield of the vineyard. You shall not plow with an ox and a donkey together. You shall not wear cloth of wool and linen mixed together.

By reading this we see the pattern that God is commanding that things that are different should be kept separate. Again we need context of the time.

Pagans in the area believed that by mixing things together they would achieve “magical” results. So God made this law to set them apart from them. He reaffirms this command, even going as far as to say not to let cattle bread with different cattle, in Leviticus 19:19.

In todays context, what sets us apart from others is our internal change that is projected outward. We become lights for God, and show Him through our change. Of course none of us are perfect, and if we aren't careful it can quickly become fake and legalistic.

We can wear blended fabric because Jesus fulfilled this law.

Next keeping with our fabric theme, clothing. This verse comes from Deuteronomy as well, so I will just put the link for both here.

Deuteronomy 22:5

“A woman shall not wear a man’s clothing, nor shall a man put on a woman’s clothing; for whoever does these things is utterly repulsive to the Lord your God.”

Some pretty strong language right there, but it's important to acknowledge why. We are sinners. God set very clear laws on what was and wasn't allowed. Remember that was to set His people apart, and to test their faithfulness.

Historically at the time men and women dressed very similarly. There were cultural ways used to discern between genders and that is what this verse is talking about here. Men did not wear pants when this law was written (at least not by the Jewish people) so why would it be a sin for women to wear pants today? It simply isn't. (Just because human men decided to use the bible to push their weird sexist agenda via mistranslation, does not mean this is what this verse intended.)

To apply it to a modern setting, it would be “why are you wearing what you are? How do you want people to perceive you? What is your heart behind wearing these clothes?”

So really this is another verse directly tied to transgendered identity sin, again a pagan tradition at the time.

ALL SIN is repulsive to the Lord. (The Hebrew word used in this verse is found all throughout the OT, with various uses.) Yes God established the laws, but He also established the sacrificial system for His people as well. He loved them, loved us, and gave them a way to atone for their sins and find forgiveness from God.

But the sacrifice of animals could only go so far. That is why Jesus came to be the final sacrifice. The Lamb of Salvation for us. He willingly gave His life for us, just as we can willingly continue to sin against Him, or willingly give our lives to Him.

Jesus fulfilled the laws and abolished the need for the sacrificial system.

OK this one has no verse in the bible that God commands us to not write in our bibles. None. Unless I’m just having trouble finding it, it's not a thing.

The sin is changing the words, as some translations do so you have to be very careful about which ones you use.

I got a book from the library years ago that was like a devotional for teen girls. In the book it had a verse from Psalms that sounded weird to me and when I compared the translation to my ESV, it had removed the part about God's faithfulness and love. Took it right out. That is a huge problem!

I know that translating the Hebrew and Greek to English is very difficult, especially given how the Greek had multiple words for love alone, and many other words. However, the languages are not so vastly different that you make changes like that without a prideful agenda. Good translations that I use, ESV, NASB, AMP for study purposes. As well as NKJV if you like a classic. I’m constantly comparing translations, and looking at original texts to get a feeling for what words were used.

I encourage you to note your bible. Mark what speaks to you, the blessings, the commands, the warnings. Every time God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are mentioned, where verses intersect. Note everything.

For some of our brothers and sisters around the world they may only have a few pages to pass between each other, or are able to have His full word and treasure God's words dearly and keep everything they can close. They want to remember it all, and remember what they learn. And God wants that for us.

No writing in your bible is not a sin. Changing the words or removing them is a sin.

Ok now onto your “woman can’t speak in church” debate. 1 Corinthians 14. But because of everything I’m about to get into, this answer will be longer than the others. Feel free to stop here and come back. I know I’ve already written a lot.

First we need to look at the history of the city of Corinth, as when Paul wrote his letters, each one was tailored to the church in question and addressed their strengths and weaknesses.

The city of Corinth was a trade city set in a key location for sailors from all over the world. Its citizens were from all over the world, though mostly Roman, Greek, Jewish, and even a considerable amount of Italians. Because there was such a mix of cultures, there were a mix of religions.

The largest of these being the worship of the false goddess aphrodite. Sexual actions were common with her “temple” and prostitution was a rampant issue with the city. We have two sins of sexual nature and idol worship already. Within the church itself there were reports of incest, infighting, and drunkenness during services being reported as well.

Acts 10:1-23 is Paul's first visit to Corinth where he helped found the church. A family close to Paul and in the Corinthian church wrote to Paul with their concerns for how the church was conducting themselves. The 1 Corinthians letter (book) was written in response.

The church was a blend of Jews and Gentiles. So practices such as the aforementioned were common practice within the city and the Gentiles were at a loss for how to conduct themselves because these things were common during the worship of false gods.

Becoming Christ-like is a beautifully long process. It's not over night, no matter how much we wish it was. These people were still human and loved Christ but still knew very little about Him, and God the Father. (even some of the Jews had a lot of misconceptions they had to change)

So at the very beginning of his letter, Paul reminds them of their new identity. (1:1-9) and reaffirms their forgiveness through Gods grace and faithfulness to our salvation. Nothing we do after we accept His gift can revoke it. It is ours for all time for one time.

Woman and men were traditionally seated separately in synagogues so it makes sense that practice was still used in some new churches, such as that of the Corinthians, as they did have Jewish members.

He is calling out woman for calling to their husbands during sermons and being disruptive. Paul is asking that they save their question for after. He is also teaching woman new to these practices, gentiles, how to be respectfully in the church.

Paul encouraged woman to pray and praise in the church, chapter 11. So it would be contradictory for Paul to then turn around and say “woman can’t speak in church” in chapter 14.

To answer, yes woman can speak in church, but not teach to a body of men. Women can teach women, but women can’t teach men. God established a order of command.

God

Jesus

Men

Woman

Children

Following this upward, everyone is under authority of the role’s above them. That is how God designed the family unit, and in turn the church. The church is the body of Christ, and each of us have a purpose within his body for it function. Woman have a time and place to teach, and lead, but not to men.

I am only addressing the command pertaining to women at this time. I would love to do an in-depth look at all of 1 Corinthians, there is so much to it. Really, thank you for the opportunity to study these passages deeper, and teach them to you. I hope I did, I hope these make sense now.

I do need to add. When comparing these commands to the command of homosexuality, its important to remember the context. Homosexuality is a sin because it goes against Gods very direct design for mankind, how the family unit functions in direct relation to the church. These other ones however were established for a period of time to set the people apart from outsiders, and do not go against His intended purpose for creation. That is a very big difference.

Feel free to ask anything else, I loved doing this. I will try to get something for all of 1 Corinthians out, but I have a full life at the moment, so it will probably take awhile.

Praying and God bless

#Raz speaks out #Christianity #answers #christian #ot laws #nt commands #bible study #biblical history #comparing sins #big post #understanding the bible #culture

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m-oonrises · 4 years

Text

12:10am

Tsukki asks for Yamaguchi's help interpreting an english passage for his homework. One of them tries to be brave.

part 2/? of yamaguchi and tsukishima‘s almost confessions

"Yamaguchi, are you still up?" The knock comes just as he's about to throw on his covers. It's a bit past midnight, and Tsukishima probably knows it's way past his bed time. It's fine, Yamaguchi guesses that the lack of boundaries is what being best friends are for.

"Yeah, Tsukki, hold on," he opens the door to find the tall boy with a bunch of papers in hand. He stifles a yawn. "I was just about to pass out, you came just in time."

"Oh. Sorry, it can wait. It's just homework," Tsukishima doesn't look at him directly as he begins to turn from the door.

"Tsukki," he calls, but only slightly out of want and more of duty. He's lost whatever drowsiness he had a few minutes ago. If Tsukishima, his smart and immensely independent friend, is desperate enough to consult him at 12:10 am about homework, then as his best friend, he is obliged to.

It's not like they even had reason to still have boundaries when it comes to mundane things. The two of them have spent most of their lives together—from their painfully embarrassing shared childhood, to the highs and lows of high school. And when both he and Tsukishima got into the same University, it had been the logical choice to rent an apartment together.

It's mid-October and the nights are starting to get really cold. But joke's on you mother nature, Yamaguchi thinks, the mere knowledge that Tsukki lives and breathes a couple of meters away gives him all the warmth he needs.

"I can't get the meaning of this paragraph. I thought you might be able to help me," Tsukishima trails off and gestures at the clock, "I can just search it up online, though."

Yamaguchi nevertheless asks for the paper—the "It's okay, I can help" goes without saying. Toward the end of high school, Yamaguchi started getting into English Literature, intrigued by its history and forms. He wasn't the best in English when he started, but through hard work (and his then growing passion for short form English fiction) he slowly became one of the top students in their senior year English class. So it came as no surprise to anyone when he enlisted for English & Writing as an elective on their first year in University. What was a surprise, however, was Tsukishima deciding at the last minute that he'd give the class a go, too.

Today's topic for class had been "Psychology of the Self" and their professor had asked the class to write a short introspective piece about their thoughts and feelings. After which, they were asked to exchange with someone else in class, and that person was put in charge of analyzing the piece.

"Here, I can give it a read," he sets his pillows aside and takes the paper from Tsukishima's hand, motioning that the tall boy sit beside him. Tsukishima only sits by the edge of the bed.

Yamaguchi skims through the words and immediately sees that their classmate probably has had experience in writing. Albeit, a little bit cheesy but it gets the message across.

"How do I begin to explain the storm you've stirred in my heart? It's the wind that takes me high and low, that which also lives inside me, breaking through the cages of my chest, threatening to explode to reach you but can't. One day, I'll ride its gusts and fly myself to you, If I ever find the bravery."

"Oh, these are all a metaphor," he offers. Yamaguchi can feel his fingers buzz a bit while tracing the sentences, he feels like a philologist (is that what they call it?) that someone's just consulted and he's deciphering some sort of ancient text. "It's about feeling a certain way about someone, and," he clears his throat, "and feeling so much and just wanting to tell them, but not being able to. You know, that whole cliché unrequited love sort of thing."

Yes, cliché, and yet Yamaguchi knows the feeling all too well. Not to say that he hasn't had the occasional crush or fling here and there. In fact, he's received a good number of confessions toward his last year in high school, especially when he became captain. He still gets them today, and he definitely doesn't deny that some of them were cute. But Tsukki has been and always will be an ever-present presence in his life that made him want to explode, and he's constantly at the verge, held together only by a holed wall of pride he's so expertly managed to keep up. Yamaguchi's tried to repair the damage to no avail; liking Tsukki is an ages old thing that he has accepted to be an irreversible fact about himself.

"Really. Why doesn't he just tell them, then?" Tsukishima says, sounding annoyed as always, but Yamaguchi finds it a little bit out of character for him to bother with trivial things like unrequited feelings. Tsukishima continues, demanding, "If he feels he's about to explode and everything like he says."

"I don't know, Tsukki, I guess it isn't always easy," especially when you're pretty sure they don't feel the same way, Yamaguchi thinks, and you practically live with them, and they've been your best friend for just about forever, Tsukki, and whoop-dee-doo, I guess it's not really that big of a deal that everything you ever had together would be put at stake if you tell them.

"Right," Tsukishima begins, "makes sense."

The topic ends abruptly and the room goes silent. If Tsukki could read Yamaguchi's thoughts, he'd start panting from how fast they're running. The air around has suddenly become thick and he feels like he needs to focus on breathing else he'll forget.

Just as he's started drowning in his own embarrassing thoughts, Tsukishima breaks the silence when he shifts from where he's awkwardly positioned on the corner of the bed and moves just a tad bit closer, infiltrating Yamaguchi's space. He's so close that Yamaguchi can feel his warm breathing and the burning of his eyes which were now meeting the freckled boy's.

His best friend has slept over his room so many times; it isn't anything new. But Tsukki isn't the type to linger around after conversations end, Yamaguchi knows this, never the one to initiate anything. This, despite how normal it may seem, is not anything he's been expecting.

And he's definitely not expecting it when Tsukishima touches his arm lightly, opening his mouth once like he wants to say something and stops, and tries again, and—

"Yamaguchi," his voice is soft but firm, "I've been meaning to tell you something."

At this point, his hearing has been muffled by the rush of blood to his ears prompted by Tsukishima's earlier touch.

"This may sound weird but, Yamaguchi, I—"

His phone rings, as if on cue, his phone fucking rings. It's Hinata's name flashing to his ridiculous ringtone and he only feels a little bit bad thinking about how he actually wants to strangle his dear friend right now for unknowingly interrupting what could be the moment of moments. He quickly rejects the call, but Tsukishima's already snapped out of whatever trance he was in.

"Sorry, Tsukki, uh, you were saying?" Shit. It's probably the ringtone. The ringtone must've thrown Tsukki off.

"Oh-uh, nothing." Tsukishima only looks a little bit dazed before clearing his throat, and in the most Tsukishima way, calm and stoic, asks, "I was just leaving. Uh, Will you be up at seven? I can cook breakfast. You have class at nine right?"

"Oh, okay!" he tries his best not to sound disappointed at the shift. "Thanks Tsukki. Hmm, we can get coffee after! I'll walk you to class, too," Yamaguchi says and immediately wonders if he said it too enthusiastically.

"Yeah, okay," A pink color has noticeably stained Tsukishima's cheeks, but Yamaguchi doesn't comment on it, "thanks again, Yamaguchi."

"Anytime, Tsukki." He almost misses the faint smile on the blond boy's lips as he closes the door.

—

"One day, I'll ride its gusts and fly myself to you, If I ever find the bravery."

Yamaguchi threads the passage in his mind over and over. The events just moments ago hasn't sunk in yet. Could it be that it really isn't just him who lacked the bravery? And if he and Tsukki both really were thinking it, should he have been the one to go for it, instead? Should he have pushed further earlier? Maybe so. He turns his light off and settles back into his covers, setting his alarm clock to seven.

Sorry for not being brave enough today, Tsukki—staring at the ceiling, he imagines sending an invisible beam from his mind to the boy now two rooms down and hopes to the heavens that whatever his best friend was trying to say, he'll try saying again soon. Hopefully, he'll be brave enough then—Sorry, Tsukki, maybe tomorrow, we can try again.

#tsukkiyama #yamatsukki #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #carasunowrites #almost confessions!! agh #moonriseswork

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amillionsmiles · 4 years

Text

get myself together, spend you all of my money (Ellie/Aster)

Title: get myself together, spend you all of my money Summary: “You’d think going to college out of town would have knocked us both down a peg, but instead we ended up pretty pretentious.” / or: Ellie, Aster, and an apartment full of things. A/N: written while listening to Mitski’s cover of “Let’s Get Married” on loop.

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.

Ellie finds Aster Flores again on a Sunday.

So far, the NYC Sublets & Apartments Facebook group has yielded more duds than leads, but she scrolls down and suddenly, there: a corner of Squahamish, waving at her from the screen.

LOOKING FOR: Room to rent, ideally available by August. Recently graduated from art school, so that gives you a sense of my budget, but I’m tidy, respectful, and play well with cats. Any PMs with leads appreciated!

The profile picture isn’t anything new; Ellie’s pretty sure she scrolled past it and liked it a few weeks ago during the influx of everyone’s graduation photo updates. Aster’s looking over her shoulder at the camera, the quiet joke that always seemed to hide in her eyes in high school now more pronounced. It’s a good picture, from a purely aesthetic standpoint, and that’s the only reason her heartrate picks up when she hovers over Aster’s name to click Message.

She takes a swig from her iced cappuccino and starts to type.

Hey! Long time, less conversation. Haven’t been to church in a minute, but I remember there being a Bible verse saying something about “two are better than one,” and I’m pretty sure that also applies to apartment-hunting. If that seems like something you’d be interested in, let me know.

Before she can think twice about it, she hits enter.

They move in together in July, when the summer heat turns the air liquid and the acrid smell of molten trash bags wafts from the street. For a second, Ellie misses the Pacific Northwest: the greenish tint of light filtered through leaves, the way she could disappear to a nearby watering hole for respite. Even the mudding that Trig and his friends did now seems appealing—on the stairwell, she fantasizes about the cool shock of it against her skin.

“Hey, Ellie?”

Ellie turns from where she’s been sitting on the top step to see that Aster’s finally gotten the door open. Rocking to her feet, she pushes the cardboard box across the floor, stepping inside to get a look at where they’ll be living for the next year.

The first room is spacious, combining a kitchen area with what can become a living room, once they buy a couch. Trailing her fingers along the wall, Ellie wanders into the other bedroom, then tests the lights in the bathroom. She comes back to find Aster eyeing the ceiling, a hammer pulled from her belongings.

“What are you doing?”

“Here.” Aster beckons her closer. “I’m thinking that this space is big enough that if we hang a curtain, part of it can be my room.”

“Oh.” Ellie hadn’t put much thought into it when they’d signed the lease, assuming they’d share the back room, like a college one-room double situation. It seems naïve, now; they’re adults, of course Aster would want her own space. “It doesn’t have to be yours, though. I mean—we can flip a coin or something, to make it fairer.”

Aster shrugs. “I don’t mind. Besides, the back room is more muffled—I’m less likely to hear you clacking your typewriter this way.” She smiles, the two of them both glancing to where Ellie’s Smith Corona peeks out from its bubble wrap packaging, the pale blue paint gleaming in the sunlight.

“It was my mom’s,” Ellie explains, her own memory fond against her lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I always wanted to hear more about her, after that time at the spring.”

“She was fun.” The words take her back to Ping-Pong, Paul’s paddle thwacking the ball against the wall.

“As fun as you are?”

Ellie raises an eyebrow. “Am I fun?”

Aster pushes a sweaty lock of hair behind her ear. Overhead, the air conditioning hums.

“Guess we have plenty of time to find out, heathen.”

“Saw is not the greatest horror movie of our generation.”

“It is!” protests Aster, sitting next to her on the couch. Waxy cartons from the Georgian restaurant Aster waitresses at litter the table, and Ellie licks her fingers clean of the buttery residue from the kubdari—mm, delicious—as she leans back, waiting for Aster to continue.

“Ignore the sequels. But on its own, it’s this brilliant little clockwork machine of the lengths people will go to when they think they’ve got no time left. And the reveal at the end? I heard you gasp.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that, but a lot of the rest of it feels like torture porn.”

Aster rolls her eyes. “No one watches a horror movie for the butterflies.”

“Except you, apparently,” Ellie points out, because this is a thing they do as roommates, now: watch movies and then discuss them over takeout. So far, they’ve tended toward foreign cinema, art-house, and horror. The last genre is the one Aster engages with most fervently. However, Ellie has started to suspect that Aster can turn nearly anything into a debate, perhaps a side effect of all the time she spent wrestling with God in her head during sermons.

“Whatever. I just don’t think you’re giving it the credit it deserves for how well it feeds on the psyches of all the characters.”

“Cupid and Psyche,” Ellie thinks aloud. “Now there’s a story we could talk about.”

Crinkling her nose, Aster says, “We get it, you read literature.”

“So do you,” says Ellie, nudging her foot. “You’re just as big a nerd as I am.”

At that, Aster laughs, tilting her head back. It makes the column of her throat into the soft marble of a Canova statue.

“You’d think going to college out of town would have knocked us both down a peg, but instead we ended up pretty pretentious.”

Looking around their apartment, Ellie has to agree. There are too many stacks of books lying around, various papers jutting out of them as placeholders so she can flip to the passages she needs when writing essays. Aster keeps bringing back abstract art prints from the showcases she attends. In the corner, there’s a ficus that Ellie took home from work out of guilt (she’d been the only one in the office watering it) which they’ve named Walter Benjamin.

“I kind of like it, though.”

Aster turns to her, cheek pressing against the fabric of the couch. Her gaze is a paperweight: glassy and clear and heavy with something Ellie can’t quite name. “I’m not complaining, either.”

Before college, Ellie had considered herself a morning person, simply because she had no reason to be otherwise. Waking up to signal the trains each morning became part of her biorhythm, as natural and unremarkable as her middle part or her thermal underwear. At Grinnell, though, she’d discovered the guilty joy of sleeping in. The downside has been that her body now relies on coffee to function before 10 AM on the weekends.

“Don’t drink that,” says Aster, whisking the tin away from Ellie’s grasp. “I’ve been using it to wash off my brushes.”

Groggily, Ellie leans against the counter, watching Aster bend over the canvas on the kitchen table. She must have been at it for a while—a good third of it is filled in, streaked with purples and browns. After dabbing at a corner, Aster blows a strand of hair out of her face and straightens, reaching to adjust her messy bun.

Ellie squints. “Have you always had that?”

Pausing, Aster feels along the shaved part of her hair, tracing the chevron indented in it. “The undercut? Yeah. A girlfriend did it for me senior year, before we went our separate ways.”

A spike akin to a dose of caffeine shoots through Ellie. She stands a bit taller. “A girlfriend like a girl…?” she trails off, clearing her throat. “Or. A friend.”

The corner of Aster’s mouth twitches. “The first one.”

“Oh. Um.” Ellie swallows. “That’s nice.”

Aster picks up another paintbrush, twirling it between her fingers before deciding against it and setting it back down. When she meets Ellie’s eyes again, the look behind them is bare, vulnerable.

“I haven’t told my parents, though.”

“Is that why you don’t go back to Squahamish?”

Aster’s lips part slightly. “You noticed?”

“The first summer, yeah,” Ellie admits. “After that, I wasn’t around much either. Internships and stuff, you know.”

“And relationships?”

“Some of those, too.”

“Did you seduce all of them wearing flannel?” Aster asks, nodding to the oversized checkered shirt Ellie favors as pajamas. For a second, Ellie just gapes, taken aback by being so thoroughly called out.

“You’re the one with an undercut. Don’t talk to me about queer signaling.”

Aster laughs. It suddenly becomes very important that Ellie turn around and start the coffee machine, right now.

“I like seeing you with your hair down, though,” comes Aster’s voice, drifting over the sound of water straining into a pot.

“—And then I thought, what if it’s a temperature thing?” finishes Paul, his face ruddy and proud through the screen. Sensing an opening, Ellie stops worrying the inside of her mouth.

“Did you know Aster likes girls? Like, officially?” Almost immediately, she cringes from how juvenile her delivery makes her sound.

Paul doesn’t so much as twitch. “Uh, yeah. It’s come up once or twice.”

“Wait, she’s talked about it with you?” Ellie sits up on her mattress. Since when were Paul and Aster confidantes?

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t say anything, it’s just I read all this stuff about not outing people before they were ready, and I figured if it was important enough to her she’d let you know eventually. Uh, Ellie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Blinking rapidly, Ellie fights the surge of affection threatening to overtake her. Stupid Paul, making her stupidly proud to have him as a best friend.

“Do you—er. Do you think you might like her?”

“Oh, god, no. And I mean it for real this time,” she says, meeting Paul’s skeptical look. Part of it is pride—it seems like character regression, to return to the source of her teenage fantasies when she’s learned so much about herself since then. “It’s just nice to have a friend who gets both parts of it, you know? The being queer and being from Squahamish.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Hey, do you guys want a batch of these sausages when I finish tinkering with the recipe? It takes two days to ship cross-country, I checked.”

Ellie laughs. “Yeah, Munsky, send them our way.”

Ellie wets the edges of the dough tucked in her palm, working from the outside in as she crimps the dumpling and places it on a plate. Across from her, Aster works with similar dexterity, a pink sliver of tongue poking out the side of her mouth in concentration.

“You’re good at this.”

Aster sets aside another dumpling, using two fingers to scoop a mound of dough from the bowl between them. “Yeah, I helped my mom a lot with her empanadas, growing up.”

“Say you had kids,” Ellie starts. “What’s one thing you’d teach them, before they turned thirteen?”

Aster considers. “Long division. Except I’d have to get someone else to teach them, because I’m terrible at math.”

“Really?”

“Really. Do you ever think about how smart people have been, to invent the concept of infinity and the concept of zero?”

“Mm. And where would you put the idea of God on that scale?”

“Like, a solid fifty,” says Aster, flicking water at her face.

In November, Ellie publishes a short story in the New Yorker, which Aster crows about for a solid week.

“Aster, oh my god, you’re being embarrassing,” she says upon walking into the kitchen and finding her story printed in full, each sheet pinned to the refrigerator door with a bright red magnet.

“You should be proud,” Aster insists.

Paul calls her to discuss it. “Me and your dad read it. I thought it was really good. Are you working on more stuff?”

“Slow your roll, Munsky.” Ellie laughs. “I’m not as prolific as you are, dreaming up new sausage combinations every day.”

Off-camera, the staticky sound of a TV and a faint Ellie? sounds.

“Here, Mr. Chu.” Paul passes the phone to her dad, who is wrapped in his usual robe. The lines by his eyes relax when he sees her face.

“How are you?” she asks in Mandarin. “Are you keeping warm?”

“You should be worried about yourself—it’s colder where you are,” her dad replies. “Paul’s good about keeping me company. He read your piece to me three times. The scene with the swing set, and the little girl…” He switches to English. “Best part. Your mom would be proud.”

“Thanks, Ba,” says Ellie, voice thick. She goes to bed that night and dreams of being sandwiched between her mom and dad, dancing in the living room.

She and Aster host a small get-together in December. They put a Santa hat on Walter Benjamin and get everyone drunk on mulled wine until the party devolves into a caroling session, Aster’s friend James competing with Ellie’s friend Larissa to see who can belt “O Holy Night” louder. Afterwards, she and Aster sprawl on Aster’s mattress, limbs loosened from a successful night. The string lights Aster wound through the curtains as decoration for the party flicker, casting the room a soft gold.

“Would you ever get a tattoo?” Ellie asks. It’s been on her mind ever since she noticed the olive branch inked above Larissa’s collarbone. She’s wary of the pain, though.

Beside her, Aster shifts, arm pressing against hers. “I have one, actually.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah.” She props herself up on an elbow, pulling her shirt up to reveal a cluster of flowers just below her rib.

Tracing the lines with her eyes, Ellie asks, “What kind of flowers are they?”

“Asters.”

“You’re joking.”

Aster looks straight back at her. “I’m 100% serious.”

“Isn’t that a bit too on the nose?” Ellie studies the tattoo again and then snorts, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it.” The wine must still be in her system, because the fuzziness of a laugh flushes through her body.

“What?” Aster seems miffed. “Ellie, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I’m just— You were so reserved before, and now you’ve got an undercut and a tattoo and. Do you remember— there was that day when Jenny Newman brought in that pink scarf and you all walked down the hallway like something out of a Clique movie, it was ridiculous. I can’t believe I had a crush on you. Oh my god.”

“Stop.” Aster shoves her shoulder, but she’s laughing, too. “Don’t remind me. God. God! What a terrible color, it didn’t match my outfit at all.”

“But it’s okay, because now you’re Aster Flores, hardcore.”

“Well, what about you, Ellie Chu?”

“What what about me?”

Aster sits up. “You’re walking into a tattoo parlor right now. What do you decide to get, and where?”

“Persimmons,” Ellie says, before even fully conceiving the thought. “On my… right shoulder.”

“All right.” Aster gets up and feels around her desk; the next thing Ellie knows, she’s kneeling before her on the mattress, a fine-tipped pen in hand. “I’ll draw it for you.”

“Okay.” Slowly, Ellie sits up, tugging the collar of her shirt down as far as it’ll go to expose the skin needed for Aster’s canvas. The first touch tickles; she tries to hold herself as still as possible while Aster draws, ink flowing in thin lines. She considers watching the process, but it makes her go cross-eyed and dizzy, so she closes her eyes instead and feels: the smoothness of a persimmon skin, the shine of their texture, the sweet crunch of a fruit just barely ripened.

“Done,” Aster whispers, and Ellie leans closer to catch it. It feels like they’re in a confessional booth. Aster caps the pen and bites her lip, but she doesn’t move away.

“Ellie—” Her breath smells of cinnamon and cloves. Like the sharpest part of the forest, like all things good and lovely and too fragile to want.

“I should go to bed,” Ellie says, and it takes every ounce of strength she has to extract herself, to stumble back to her room and sit against the closed door, shaking.

“Ellie? Ellie, pick up the phone. It’s about your dad. It’s not—super critical, or anything, but I still think—uh. Just… call me back as soon as you can.”

Her carry-on is by the door and she’s set to leave for the airport in an hour. When Aster finds her, she’s cutting and skinning apples in the kitchen—not even to eat, just to have something to do with her hands.

Silently, Aster pulls out some bread, cream cheese, and salmon. When she’s done with the sandwich, she slips it into a plastic bag and holds it out to Ellie.

“For the plane ride.”

“Thanks.” Ellie sets down the knife and goes to put the sandwich away in her backpack. She zips it up.

“Would you come with me, if I asked?”

By the sink, Aster is quiet. Ellie thinks of that awful moment in the ping pong room, when she’d thought Paul had caught on to her.

“You know what, never mind.”

“If I go with you, I’m going to want to be with you.” Aster looks down at her hands as she says it; it’s the first time she’s seemed uncertain in a while. Ellie soaks in the confession, turning it over in her head. It’s brave. It’s honest.

It’s not enough.

“I just.” Aster shrugs, helpless. “I’m not ready for that conversation, yet. With them. For the fallout of what the worst could be.”

Pick me, her heart throbs, selfishly. Pick me pick me pickme. She is a train leaving the station, hoping for someone to catch her. But no time to wait; her dad needs her.

“Take care, Aster,” she says, shrugging her backpack over her shoulder. Aster’s face crumples like snow. Ellie tries not to look back.

The hospital discharges her dad after a week. Ellie stays for another two, making sure his cough is gone and all the mucus has loosened from his chest. When he regains enough energy to start fighting back against her fussing, she recruits Paul to make sure he drinks enough fluids every day.

“Pneumonia,” she scolds at the doorway, shaking her head. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

“Ch,” her dad says. “You want to talk about scared? How about that time when you were seven and fell off the monkey bars? Nearly cracked your head open.”

Paul looks between them, bewildered. “Okay, Mr. Chu, I’ve gotta get Ellie to the airport. There’s still ice on the roads so driving will be slower than usual.”

In the car, Ellie holds her hands to the heat, touching the pads of her fingertips to each other.

“Do you like it better out east?”

Ellie tilts her head. “City life is different, that’s for sure. It feels freer and lonelier. Not as many people paying attention to you, so you can be anything you want to be. But also: not as many people paying attention to you.”

“Hm, I get that. Like being at my house versus being at yours.”

“You’re saying that the Munskys are New York City and me and my dad are Squahamish?”

“Never mind. I guess my house has all the people New York has, but they’re all jumping down your throat instead of passing you by.”

Ellie laughs. “You love it, though.”

Across the dash, Paul smiles at her. “Yeah, I do.”

“You wouldn’t consider the Midwest? It’d be a happy medium.”

“I did like Iowa, when I visited you.”

“Chicago, then,” Ellie proposes. “In five years. People there buy lots of hot dogs—it’d be good business.”

“I’ll think about it,” Paul promises, pulling up to the curb. He gets out to help with her suitcase, wrapping her in a warm hug. Ellie buries her nose into the center of his chest and inhales. She wonders if it's possible to absorb his courage through her lungs.

“Paul?” she asks, when he starts to pull away. “Can I ask you something?”

His eyes are bright with concern. “Of course.”

“If you loved someone, and they loved you back in the same way, but they said you couldn’t be together, what would you do?”

“Well, I’d ask myself: when I picture being with that person, what does it really look like? Is it okay if the image doesn’t exactly match up? Because then I’d hold on.”

“Never Let Me Go.”

“What?”

“It’s another Kazuo Ishiguro book,” says Ellie, smiling. “You should read it if you get the time.”

“All right, boss,” says Paul, mock-saluting her. “Now go catch your flight.”

It’s past midnight when she gets back to the apartment, careful not to make too much noise as she slips past Aster’s room and into her bed. Her head is about to hit the pillow when her phone screen lights up, casting her as a glaring shadow against the bedroom wall.

Aster: Hey, heard you come in. Is your dad okay?

Yeah. I sentenced him to house arrest for the month, with Paul as guard dog.

Aster: All right, Foucault. Discipline & Punish. Aster: I’m glad he’s better, though.

Thanks. Did you miss me much?

Aster: Well, I realized that the cookies disappear at a much slower rate when you’re not around. :P

It’s strange to be talking like this when they’re separated by only a hallway, when for the past six months they’ve seen each other face-to-face every day. And yet, in some ways it’s easier: the crackle of electricity, the dots appearing, then fading, then appearing again.

Aster: Can you come into the hall? Aster: There’s something I want to say.

Ellie sits up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Gently, she cracks open the door to see Aster leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom. Her hair is tangled. She looks beautiful.

“Hey.”

Sliding down to the floor, Aster gestures to the spot opposite her. “Sit.”

Dutifully, Ellie obeys, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them. The hallway is so narrow that her toes end up tucked under Aster’s legs, crisscrossed in front of her.

“I’ve been thinking about what I said to you right before you left,” says Aster. “And I did some more thinking while I was here alone. And the thing is, I don’t want to be all or nothing with you. I want us to be—something. And I’m wondering if you could be okay with that. If we could take it little by little, and just figure it out as it comes. If you’re willing to wait.”

“Yeah.” Ellie swallows. “We can do that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Nodding, Ellie starts to rise, but Aster gets a determined look in her eyes and suddenly she’s swooping forward, the scent of her hair—vanilla and violets—swinging around them, her hand cupping Ellie’s cheek and her mouth a bright star against Ellie’s, striking deep as a hymn into her bones. Ellie counts to five before opening her eyes, and when she speaks, her voice is hoarse.

“I thought you wanted me to wait.”

“Guess I’m bad at following my own rules,” Aster says, and grins.

#the half of it #ellie chu #aster flores #ellie x aster #my writing #fanfiction #ff: the half of it

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