#I just... came away from it not sad per se but kind of down

[downfallofi]

Im all partied out after the last two days 🙃

[m5ria]

Chapter 6: The shopping sesh

We gave up on holding arms. We just stroll on the streets of Hell. I sometimes throw glances at Angel and marvel. He’s quite attractive for a demon, with his freckles and shiny fur. His carefreeness only boosts it.

I feel like I should say something, anything, as we walked quite long in silence. But I don’t know what. I’m always awkward about chatting.

“So,” he seems as if he read my mind, “how long have you been down here?”

“A year,” I bluntly respond. Then, to pull the strings of a conversation, I continue: “Actually, it’s my first year anniversary.”

“Really?” he wonders. “You’re the youngest one so far. Vaggie came here some years ago.”

“Yeah...”

Another moment of uncomfortable silence passes before I say: “I... am quite new, as in I don’t know a lot of demons.”

“Don’t worry, babe, I don’t know lots of demons either,” he shrugs. “Well, I meet lots of demons, but I don’t know them, as per se.”

“I think I recognize you from some posters,” I mention. “Ads with you are all over the city.”

“Yeah, well, as I said, I’m quite famous,” he winks at one Imp on the other side of the street. 

“Right. Uhm...” I think of a quick question, “what’s Cherry Bomb?”

I thought it was a kind of juice with cherries, but Angel suddenly giggles.

“Not a what, toots. Who. She’s my girl bestie. She runs a territory not far from here. She’s the best at blowing shit up.”

“I suppose that’s really exciting to have in a friend.”

“We hang out sometimes, exploding buildings or fuck people up, but it’s not the same as it was.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m staying at this hotel, don’t I? I have to behave...” he sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Is Charlie punishing you if you do something bad?” I ask him.

I expect an answer, but he starts laughing heartily. I feel as if I missed something, or said something wrong. “What?”

“Sure thing,” he manages to say. “Charlie delights in punishing us! Severely! Whipping is her specialty! She knows all the right places! And the occasional handcuffing...”

“Angel!” I cut him off. “I was serious!”

“That’s the funny part!” he points out, still chuckling.

I stay silent until he stops. 

“Haven’t ya met her?” he asks incredulously. “She’s like, the sweetest innocent demon down here!”

“How should I know?” I backfire. “She’s, after all, the Princess of Hell.”

“You think she’s acting out to mess with ya?” his smile only grows.

I don’t say anything. 

“I guess you have a point,” he shrugs. “Nothing here is what it seems.”

“Are you what you seem?” I look intensively at him.

“Oh!” he puts his hand on his fluffy chest in a flattered way. “If you mean that I’m incredibly charming and sexy, then I guess yeah, I am.”

“And incredibly modest,” I mutter.

“Ya words!”

“How about the rest of you?” The more I know about them, the better.

“Well, Vaggie is really bitchy, but her bark is worse than her bite. I must warn ya, tho, her bark might deafen you. Now more than ever, since she’s with Charlie and super overprotective over her.”

“They’re together?” I ask curiously. I underestimated their hug .

“For some time now,” Angel rolls his eyes. “Honestly, it’s so annoying. Like, during dinner, they make all these eyes at each other and I suddenly lose all my appetite! Or when I hear ‘em some nights having fun. Lucky me I’m away most of the nights...”

“Where do you go?” 

“Working,” he says with subtle meaning. “Honestly, it might be the only way I have fun nowadays.”

I hear a slight touch of sadness in his voice, but I can’t figure out why. There are so many reasons to be unhappy in this place.

“Is it wearing out at the hotel?”

“Not really,” he admits. “There are some times when Charlie hosts galas or parties. Sure, they are suitable for the cause, so no drugs.” He then makes a miserable face and says: “I miss drugs...”

“So you’re clean?”

“For almost five months!” he throws his hands in the air exasperated. “It’s so exhausting!”

“Shouldn’t it be easier?”

“I dunno!”

“But you can drink?” I ask him in the hopes he’ll cheer up.

“Oh, yeah. At least that! Y’know, when Al got to this place, he summoned the bar and a sexy bartender alongside other things. It’s the best thing that happened to the place!”

“Al?” I ask him, confused.

“Alastor,” he clarifies.

“The cat demon that appeared when I was there?” I raise my other question.

“Yeah, his name is Husk. He’s usually just drinking and rude, but get this! The other day I made him laugh!”

“Really?” I say with uninterest.

“Yeah! I was returning from my late shift, and he was drunk af on the floor behind the bar. I barely noticed him! I came to him, kicked him, see if he was dead. He looked at me and laughed.”

He’s all smiley

“Is he, like, an employee?”

“He would be if he’d have been paid,” Angel reckons. “Maybe that’s why he’s so miserable all the time. I heard he was a great deal. Now, I guess he’s good at being sexy. And listening to drunk people ramble ...”

“Drunk people, as in you?” I mock him.

“Ah, such an insult, babe! How am I gonna recover from that?”

“Tell me, Angel, how much do we still have to go? And where exactly are we going?”

We arrived on some of the busiest streets I’ve seen in Hell, with lots of lights that hurt my eyes. Ads that attract all kinds of demons inside. 

“Diana, baby, we are having a tour of Pentagram City’s center, of course!”

“How come? Weren’t we supposed to only buy some clothes?”

“Hey, I know I complimented ya outfit, but it was a joke,” he assures me. “Ya need real help with your clothing style!”

“I don’t have a style,” I point out.

“Exactly. That’s why you need help.”

I keep my eyes trained in front, emotionless.

“And,” he keeps on, “I know the best dressing shops here.”

“Are you offering your help to other hotel residents?” I wonder.

“Not really,” he admits. “I don’t have too many neighbors, to say. Only another girl, Kylie. She went to visit someone some days ago. And, of course, Kylie has style, so she needs no help.”

“Isn’t the hotel supposed to be crawling with sinners?” I opine. “It’s a miserable place, Hell. Don’t they want to leave it?”

“Ya forget that they ended up here for some reason, toots,” he looks at me seriously. “Not everyone wants to leave Hell. And, if they do, they don’t want it that much. I am honestly not sure why I’m still here.”

“You don’t want to redeem yourself?” 

“I don’t believe there’s a way, really,” he shrugs. “Charlie is a dreamer in a world full of nightmares.”

“Then why do you still stay?”

“Free rent.”

I sigh. Of course, there is this advantage.

“Ok, my turn,” he stops me. “Why didn’t ya come sooner?”

“I guess there was no reason to,” I confess. “And I don’t have any opinion on redemption.”

“Vaggie said you’re the Wild One. What does it mean?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I shrug. “It was the first time I heard it too.”

“Really?” he gapes.

“I told you I’m not an outdoor person.”

“No, ya told me you don’t have too many friends,” he points out. 

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

“Not really, no. And what did ya do before? You must have survived somehow in this hellhole.”

“I hunted,” I tell him. I suppose there’s no hiding it. I will still hunt. “I sold my venison and got money.”

“Oh, how precious you’ll be to us then!”

“Why?”

“Because we all like some well-cooked venison. Or simply raw venison, in some cases. Dinner is quite the best time of the day.”

“I was wondering about that...” I start by saying, but he stops. We’re in front of a big shop. Lots of colors, lots of lights. My head starts to hurt.

“After you,” he gestures.

I thank him and go inside. A deep perfume hits me and gives me nausea. My killer instincts fret me. In any case of danger, I hardly can rely on my smell.

“Come on, then!” Angel calls me.

☽

We wandered through the entire store. It looks like we came here mostly for him, as he picked an entire basket of new shiny clothes. I barely have any T-shirts.

Unfortunately, after one hour he notices that and focuses entirely on me. Spinning around me like Cinderella’s godmother, he keeps on pestering me with loads of questions such as:

“What’s your boob size?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Do you like molded or loose clothes?”

I suppose I should be glad that my opinion matters.

I tell him that I like dressing classy when I don’t have to be active, but I do it rarely since I am hunting the majority of the time. When he asks me about what I wear when I hunt, I say blue gear with lots of pockets.

“Why blue?” he asks, confused.

“Well, I hunt in the blue woods. I need to camouflage.”

“Oh, my! You come from that part of town?”

“Is there something wrong with it?” I ask him provokingly. 

“I heard that’s quite empty,” he recalls. “And there are lots of sinister demons crawling around there.”

“It can’t be that rural as I still got to see your posters,” I mock him.

“I told ya,” he puffs his chest. “I’m incredibly famous.”

With what I told him, he soon chose items that are way more stylish than I’d ever seen, dead or alive. Still, I see he minded the pocket rule. And the camouflage rule, as there’s no glitter.

“Wow, Angel, you do have talent,” I marvel at a dark blue sweater with white shirt endings. 

“D’you expect anything else from moi ?” his pink eyes are shining with pride.

“I suppose I expected everything to be... not me,” I confess.

“You gotta trust me more, toots,” he winks and then turns his back to another aisle.

I gather up the courage to check the prices and I almost faint. An entire week of hunting can pay for that one sweater. As for the others (some T-shirts, gym pants, cargo pants, a black top, and a jacket with pockets), they sum up to be pretty close to what I had in total before it burnt away.

That goat demon didn’t suffer enough.

“Angel!” I yell at him.

“What?” he runs to me.

“I can’t afford this!” I whisper-scream.

“Don’t worry, babe!” he waves his hand. “I got you covered!”

“I won’t let you buy this for me,” I viciously say.

“Good thing, ‘cause I won’t,” he chuckles. “I know the shop’s owner. I have some discounts,” he winks at me.

I don’t want to know how he obtained those discounts.

“Still! You don’t have to!” Then, I sigh frustrated: “Angel, why are we in the most expensive shop you could have possibly found?”

“Stop complaining. Have fun already!”

With that, he throws a black dress in front of me. A dress that is as long as me. 

“How am I going to wear this without stumbling?” I raise one of the many questions I have.

“It’s not for ya, toots! It’s for me!”

“You wear dresses?” I ask him curiously.

“What?” he withdraws the dress from me. “You think that just because I’m a boy I can’t wear dresses?”

“What, no!” I defend myself. “It’s just that I’m surprised. Good surprised.”

“Calm yourself, toots! I was just messing with ya!” he ruffles my hair before going somewhere else.

I stare behind him, trying to understand the mix of emotions I have regarding his persona. No matter how arrogant or inappropriate he seems, I find that I like this guy. And I don’t like it.

People I like tend to use it against me. 

Control yourself.

I follow him, not sure of what I can do all alone here. He compares that one dress with another red one. He soon discards the latter one.

“Why did you reject it?” I come to him. “It looked marvelous. I’m sure it’d look great on you.”

“Everything looks great on me,” he points out. “But red’s not my color. You see all this pink?”

He gestures to his hair and... Tattoos?

“Pink and red don’t go well. Besides, red’s Smiles’ color.”

“Smiles?” 

“Alastor.”

“You do have a lot of ways of calling him,” I mention.

“He has lots of names for calling: the Radio Demon, Radio bitch, the Deer Demon. My personal favorite is Strawberry Pimp. It’s an original.”

“The Radio Demon?” The sudden realization washes over me. That’s why I recognized his voice. 

Back when I was alive, I used to listen to the radio after each dinner, alongside watching occasional TV news or reading newspapers. When I arrived in Hell, my habits didn’t change much in comparison with what I watched or listened to.

“Don’t ya know ’im?” he asks me with big eyes. Then, he shrugs: “I’m one to talk. I didn’t know him either.”

“Should I know him?” I pretend I know nothing.

“He’s one of the most powerful Overlords here. You should ask Vaggie for a complete mystic introduction, but in short words, he controls the radio.”

Overlord. Oh my. 

“So, each Overlord controls something?” I try to distract myself.

“I guess, but don’t ask me. I don’t do politics.”

“Does Alastor look for redemption?” I ask him incredulously.

He starts to laugh heartily, attracting other demons’ looks from all over the store. I have an overwhelming urge to hide in the clothes.

“Alastor might as well take Lucifer’s place, fer all I know,” Angel wipes a tear. “Nah-nah-nah, he’s helping Charlie with the hotel.”

He turns to his clothes, still laughing, leaving me with my thoughts. The Princess of Hell and an Overlord allied to make sinners good. I’ve never heard a more preposterous idea. I can’t imagine in any way that this is real.

“Why does he help her then?”

“For fun, he claims. Watch sinners trying to reach Heaven only to fail. I s’pose it’s more logical than what Charlie tries to accomplish.”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in one year in Hell is that demons’ minds are hella twisted. I gave up on understanding any of them the first week. That’s one of the many reasons why I prefer my time alone.

“Y’know,” Angel turns to me. “I’ve been meaning to ask ya something.”

I look at him plainly. I would encourage him to be free with me, but I want to avoid any personal questions.

He, on the other hand, looks at me puzzled, as if he’s searching for an adequate way to speak. Then he sighs:

“How d’you know he was behind ya?”

For a few seconds, I am confused about what he asked. I turn my head to see if someone is indeed behind me, but then I understand his question.

“You mean Alastor?”

“Yeah.”

“Uhm...”

I try to think of the reason why I knew. I forgot to analyze my new ability, talking non-stop with Angel. It is as inexplicable as the first two are. It was my first time. I already dread the next time.

“It’s just,” Angel continues over the silence, “Smiles tends to come out at the perfect moments to scare the shit out of everyone. It’s like his kind of prank. And nobody, even Charlie, can tell him to stop it. I seriously think there’s gonna be a time when someone double-dies from a heart attack. Nobody can predict his shitty coming.”

“Isn’t it a general rule about teleporting?”

“You mean spatial warping? I mean, yes and no. Some demons can do it, but they leave a trail behind them if you know how to look. You can predict it. With Alastor, you can’t. At least until now.”

A trail... The black streak. But I don’t think he means it that way.

Now I understand why they all looked so bewildered. Poor them! Being pranked so many times by that prick, not having any hope of getting back at him, only for me to waltz in and show it can be done.

But I can’t reveal how I did it. Not only for my sake. I genuinely don’t know either.

“It’s... part of my hunting experience. I did hunt all of my life. I suppose I know where to look,” I shrug.

“Hmm...” he regards me for a few seconds. Perhaps checking if I’m valid. Then, his eyes round, and a sudden boost of energy flows through him: “You gotta teach me!”

“Alright, but you have to keep it a secret!” I wink at him. Truth be told, maybe this will be my way to repay him for these clothes. Even if it’s a sham.

“Let’s get outta here!” he walks towards the payment point. I follow him nervously.

He leans on the counter with one waist hand and addressed the Cyclops lady cashier: “Hi, sweetheart! Call in Jaws fer me, would ya?”

“Jaws is not working here anymore,” she bluntly says.

“What d’you mean?” Angel asks, bothered.

“I mean he died.”

“He double-died? How?”

“How am I supposed to know?” the lady looks irritated at him.

“I have some discounts from him,” Angel mentions.

“Whatever discounts you had, they died with him,” she looks uninterested. “Now, will you give me your products to scan them?”

He hesitates for one second. I only see his back, but I know he’s already plotting something.

“Gimme a sec!” he says and then turns to me. He leans his whole upper body to reach my ear on my head, seeming that he’s two feet and a half taller than me, and then whispers: “How fast can you run?”

I immediately feel offended and whisper back: “I’m a fucking wolf.”

“Good girl!” he pats my head. “Then, run!”

Next Chapter

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A/N: Hey, guys!

Srry for my one-day delay! I hope the longer chapter makes up for it ;)

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Mayerling (1936)

This one was really good, I absolutely loved it, but I do have one pretty big issue with it, that shall go into detail about a bit later.

This film starts off with Rudolf getting arrested at a student protest and hanging out a bunch with Seps while Taafe and the head of the secret police are trying to prove that theyre in cahoots, which excited me because although some of the previous ones did focus on Rudolf a lot, they didnt really focus on his politics in favor of showing us his always-strangely boring affair with Mary Vetsera, but then Seps' newspaper gets shut down and he has to flee and then we never hear from him again and the only political stuff in the rest of the movie is just like "oh, the baroness is cheating with the archduke whos already married, much scandal". So that was disappointing, but it's not the big issue I have with the film, and I was ultimately able to get invested in the relationship between Rudolf and Mary.

That's mainly because I thought Rudolf was very interesting. An issue that I had with both Elisabeth von Österreich (1931) and Das Schicksal derer von Habsburg (1928) was that Rudolf seemed like a fairly normal, well-adjusted guy which made his suicide feel very weird and kind of confusing. Like, I think if I had seen either of those films without knowing the actual history, during those scenes where he approached Mary to be like "my request for a divorce didnt go through. you know what we have to do now in order to be together", I wouldve thought that he was talking about running away together or something, like what people do when theyre crazy and in love but still, yknow, relatively mentally healthy. In those movies, there wasnt really any buildup to the suicide or to Mary wanting to die with him, but I think here they did a good job at portraying Rudolf as this complicated and tormented guy, I really liked Charles Boyer's performance.

Unfortunately, I cant say the same for Mary, who, like in the previous films, was just kinda portrayed as a very normal woman, even though willingly being in an affair with the heir to the throne of austria and then being willing to follow him when he commits suicide is pretty wild, at least in my humble opinion. This is the big issue I have: she came across as just this one-dimensional ingenue who didnt have any thoughts about what she was doing or her relationship with Rudolf beyond like "everything is all right because our love is pure", but I didnt really feel like the film made me understand why she would love him as deeply as she does. I can certainly understand why Rudolf loves her like that, she's this comforting, bright prescence in his dark dark life, but what does this sheltered 17 year old see in this weird, unstable, unfaithful manwhore? The only thing that's ever said is that she sees the sadness and the pain in his eyes, but idk. call me cynical, but that just isn't enough for me. But even beyond that, again, I really dislike how she has no inner life and doesnt seem to ever self-reflect and never expresses any opinion about Rudolf beyond like, after her second time meeting him she tells her governess that he's handsome.

There's this scene that's really emblematic of the issues I have with her characterization while also being one of my favorite scenes in the whole film. Basically, Mary's mother finds out about her daughter being in an affair with an unnamed man through an anonymous letter and when she refuses to tell her who it is, she sends her away to live with her uncle for 6 weeks. We hear that during those weeks, Rudolf has constantly been drunk and sleeping with a bunch of women and we see him at a brothel having.... not a bad time per se, but he's clearly not all there. When he looks in a mirror, he doesnt recognize himself and starts yelling at his own reflection before pulling out a gun and shooting it several times. Then someone approaches him to tell him that a pretty woman is waiting for him at the entrance and leads him there. The pretty woman is Mary, who just returned from her uncle's place and managed to escape her mother because she wanted to see him as soon as possible, and Rudolf immediately takes her to a private room because he doesnt want anyone to see her. There, Mary notices what she thinks is blood on his neck and gets concerened, but he tells her that its just lipstick from a prostitute. She doesnt say anything in response, but Rudolf starts ranting at her about how yes, he kissed prostitutes and he's allowed to do that if he wants because he hasnt tied himself down to Mary so it doesnt matter, while she just stays silent and expressionless. He gets increasingly more upset as he rants and ends up grabbing Mary by the shoulders and yelling at her that, if she doesnt say anything now, he never wants to see her again. I forgot what exactly she told him, but I think it was just something along the lines of "I'll love you no matter what". Then Rudolf calms down a bit and basically repeats "I dont know how you can love me, you can't actually love me when Im like this" while she assures him that she does love him.

This scene really demonstrates the duality of their relationship as presented in this film; Rudolf is this complicated and tormented mess of a person while Mary is just a doll looking at him with her beautiful blank face. Like, I cannot stresss enough how little emotion she shows during that scene and many others. And I dont think its because she's played by a bad actress, I actually really liked Danielle Darrieux's performance and I think she could have portrayed Mary with a lot of depth, if only she had any.

But with my big issue out of the way, I'd like to talk about all the things that made me love this movie regardless

I already talked about how I liked Rudolf, but I absolutely LOVED Gabrielle Dorziat as Elisabeth here despite her having a very minor role. Theres this small scene where she wants to see Rudolf but finds Mary instead and they talk for a moment that I think gave her a lot of depth, again, despite the fact that she only had a few small appearances in less than a handful of scenes.

The pacing and editing were on-point, like The King Steps Out (1936) this movie felt like it was longer than 90 minutes in a good way, and I adored the score, it added so much to the wonderful atmosphere of this whole thing. Or, well, maybe 'wonderful' isnt the right word here, this is a fairly dark film, but it was very well-executed. Places like the opera in the ballet gala scene or the ball at the end have this beautiful grandness about them, while the brothel Rudolf visits and even the fair where he and Mary first meet are dingy and kind of grimy, and the ending at Mayerling is so dark and melancholic and tense, my heart was racing with this horrible anticipation for basically the last 10-20 minutes, it was so good. I was gonna talk about it in more detail but honestly, I dont want to spoil it too much, you should definitely watch it for yourself when you can. I found it (and most of the movies I will review) on ok.ru, its a french movie but I was able to find it with english subtitles on there.

So yeah, all in all, its a good movie, I wish the creators had cared more about Mary but that's it.

[ioannemos]

jason: 2, 14 | david: 5, 16 | christine: 8, 12 | michelle: 13, 20 | sam: 14, 20 | muninn: 15, 29

🥰

JASON

describe your character's voice. do they have a voice claim?

no voice claim. i imagine him in the low-tenor range; superb diction, snappy response time, with the occasional tendency to slip into a sort of... after-action report cadence/narration (short sentences, event-focused, impartial)

he's much freer in spanish. not spellbinding by any means but he actually uses descriptive language

an embarrassing secret about your OC?

he has his mother's name tattooed in a heart on his right hip, maybe two inches square, acquired while drunk in the kind of tattoo parlor overseas that would tattoo obviously drunk soldiers. he's not embarrassed about the tattoo, per se, and more about how he implied to his fellow soldiers and the tattoo artist that 'alicia' was, y'know, a different kind of someone waiting for him at home

---

DAVID

what was your character's dream job as a kid? is it different than what their career ended up being?

astronaut. turns out you need to be able to read 😔 he likes being a welder, tho - metal doesn't care how you feel. don't know what you're feeling? weld about it! just don't be stupid

how does your OC feel about their parents?

he misses his mom. he feels more kinship with his dad but the very nature of that kinship is estrangement from people, so

---

CHRISTINE

what book genre is their favorite?

historical romance. not pulp, tho - she likes historical accuracy, or at least nothing egregiously unrealistic

how well did your OC do in school?

...c's get degrees 😅 she did not do well. she doesn't have a head for math, her interest in history came later in life, it took until the very end of college to figure out the best way for her to write papers... judging her by her academic record would be judging a fish by its ability to climb trees

---

MICHELLE

where would your OC like to go on a honeymoon?

a year-long trip around the mediterranean region, with special attention to rome. if she had to pick a city, she'd pick rome

a nostalgic memory from your OC’s childhood?

she spent a week decorating her new Big Girl Bike with stickers, paint pens, glitter, etc before deciding she wanted the training wheels taken off Right Now. her dad put off mowing the lawn to teach her how to ride it without the training wheels and they ended up spending the whole morning together, ending by biking together to an ice cream stand a few blocks away

---

SAM

an embarrassing secret about your OC?

he can't keep effect and affect straight. he's a grown-ass fifty-five year old man and he'll still wince as he types out an email, hoping that he got it right this time... only to sigh in disgust when the little spell check prompt comes up again, verdammt

a nostalgic memory from your OC’s childhood?

when he was nine his mom lied to her workplace and his school that they were sick and took him to the museum three days in a row bc an exhibition about space was ending and she wanted him to see it but couldn't afford weekend tickets. he'd heard about it maybe twice and the idea of getting to go hadn't even crossed his mind. he was blown away. it was so hard not to tell his friends about it

---

MUNINN

who is your OC’s best friend?

i had a bit of a crisis about this one but i think it's christine. she's scary good with emotional insight, which he is sorely lacking. this has led to more than one conversation that boiled down to

him: ugh i've been angry about [x] for like three days now her: hmm. actually you've been upset for a week. do you think it's about [x]? maybe you're sad about [h] him: ...what. sad? about [h]? that's bs. no. *six hours later* okay fine. you're right. again. now what

they have a similar sense of humor, and while christine would feel bad about expressing it this way they're both the kind of person to jump to "i have a shovel, who are we murdering with it" when someone they care about is hurt in any way

when was their first kiss?

sixth grade. it was a dare. he barely remembers her name... joan? janet? he's pretty sure it started with a j...

[heesterical]

Falling For Another — Jung Jaehyun.

PAIRING Ex!Jaehyun x F!Reader.

SYNOPSIS when relationships go sour, break ups are inevitable. But Jaehyun and Y/N were different: they decided to stay friends who occasionally reached out to the other. That doesn't mean being invited to his wedding made Y/n happy though.

GENRES Romance (past kind). Angst with a little fluff (like little) mostly Bittersweet?? Lovers to Exes (to friends) trope, flashback midway through the fic, Jaehyun is getting married 😵‍💫 only hurt, no comfort 😃

WARNINGS alcohol consumption, Y/n is sad, mentions of their break up.

NOTE reposting from my old blog because I just love this fic too much.

WORD COUNT 1.9k words.

Y/n’s memories of Greece were bittersweet.

It was where she had first met Jaehyun at a beach party, both tipsy and done with the crowd. In hindsight, the party had sucked pretty badly and if it hadn't been for the something of a meet cute with him, she probably wouldn't have bothered remembering it.

It had gone from there: a long conversation about their favourite songs and genres in music, and a couple more drinks later, they had decided they were acquainted well enough to exchange numbers.

The catch? It was also the very same place they had broken up at.

Memories of coming to this exact beach and spending time with Jaehyun here filled her mind. Memories that made her smile, yet made her heart ache.

And now, as she saw him standing in front of the huge mirror, dressed in a expensive suit, nervously fixing his bow tie whilst speaking animatedly to Johnny, his best man, all she could do was tuck away the lingering sadness she felt and put on a bright smile; for him.

They might be exes, but they were friends first.

“Well hello there, Mr Jung,” She greets him with a dramatic gasp. “Looking handsome in your wedding suit!”

Jaehyun whips his head around at the sound of her voice, his smile brightening further at seeing her.

“Well hello there, Ms L/N,” He rolls his eyes with a grin, but plays along. “Looking beautiful in your dress!”

She laughs at that, walking further into the room to stand next to Johnny, who gives her a one-armed hug. She notices Jaehyun’s hand reaching for his bow tie again and stops him by the wrist.

“Don’t fidget.”

Jaehyun gives an awkward chuckle, tucking his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting further.

“Nervous?” She inquires teasingly.

“Me? Nervous? Never.”

“Yeah, right. He almost passed out when his mother said Yeona’s almost ready and the ceremony would begin soon.” Johnny laughs, and Y/n smiles, a small twinge in her chest.

Yeona was the name of the bride - Jaehyun’s to-be-wife.

When Y/n and Jaehyun were seeing each other, his family had wanted him to 'hangout’ with a business partner’s daughter, despite knowing about their relationship. Their suggestion had been innocent enough, but Y/n knew better.

He had refused and there had been a huge argument within the family and Y/n had just smiled sadly and told him to go. He had protested, but she didn’t want him to fight with his family.

That was her first mistake.

Because one hangout became several and it looked like he liked hanging out with Yeona. Until eventually he ended up liking her as well.

And then came the canceling on her because of some “family gatherings” with his parents, Yeona and her family.

And she agreed, not complaining much - though she felt him drifting away from her.

Soon, their parents began talking about marriage; and the rest was history.

She wished she had been more selfish and possessive of him. But at the same time she was glad she had let him go - it was over ever since he started prioritising someone else over her.

Shaking her head at the unwanted bout of memories, she cuts off her inner monologue.

They were just friends now. And he was getting married.

She didn’t want to further ruin her memories of Greece with anymore bitter memories.

Seeing Yeona walk down the aisle and towards Jaehyun wasn’t per se pleasant to Y/n. Seeing the smile he gave her as she slipped her hand into his outstretched palm, almost hurt. Almost.

It was the same way he had looked at her before; fond and happy, as if she were something precious to him. Although she had moved on — she swore she did, — she couldn't help the bitterness.

When the time came, everyone stood to congratulate the couple on getting married and amidst the happy sighs and coos from the others, all she could do was watch.

The wedding reception was at full swing. The happy crowd surrounded the star couple, laughter and joy filling the room; while Y/n stood by the railing out of the celebration hall, looking out into sea instead.

The buzz from the alcohol she had drank earlier still lingered, bordering on tipsy - allowing memories that she had been repressing, to flow in more easily.

Jaehyun was the one she had spent many of her firsts with - first love, first real relationship, first heartbreak, etc. So it was rather difficult for her to move on from him.

⇝(begin of memory lane)

Standing at the balcony of the beach house with a coffee mug in her hand, Y/n continued to gaze at the sun rising beyond the waters, colouring with rays of gold, yellow and orange.

“Hey.”

She starts at the sudden voice, and the feel of arms around her, but eases into it immediately when she realised the source of the warmth against her back, and the chin resting on her shoulder.

“Hey,” she greets back, smiling as she reached up to brush Jaehyun’s cheekbone with her free hand.

“Sleep well?” She questions, voice soft as she turned in his arms, carefully cradling the coffee so as to not spill it — before she sets it down on the table placed next to the relaxing chair. She settles her arms around his shoulder, smiling in content as he lightly bumps his forehead against hers.

He hums in response and grins, wild haired and handsome, the gleam of the rising sun softening his features and leaving her feeling breathless.

He was so painfully beautiful that it made her heart stutter in her chest. It was then that she realised that she didn’t just like him.

She loved him.

And she hoped that there would be many more sunrises to come, where she could enjoy them with him. So she smiles and quietly makes a wish, closing her eyes and savouring this moment with him, hoping that it would come true.

“Hey, Jae?” Y/n calls for Jaehyun, her tone mischievous.

When he turns around with a smile, she splashes him with water, immediately running away as his relaxed smile fades away to an incredulous look.

He drops her hat that he had been holding and chases after her, to get revenge.

“No! Stay back-” she shrieks as Jaehyun picks her up effortlessly and throws her over his shoulder, both of them laughing as she pounded her fists on his back.

He doesn’t stop, however, continuing to walk a little deeper into the water and shuffles as if he were about to drop her.

“Jae, wait! I’m wearing a dress-”

And she gets thrown into the water.

Resurfacing, she glares at him, but he just laughs, borderline cackling at her misfortune. Huffing, she reaches out her arms towards him with a pout. He raises an eyebrow, but complies, stepping forward to help her up when she yanks on his wrist, causing him to fall in after her.

And they continued to laugh and splash each other, joyful and blissfully unaware of what was to come.

“Stop that!” Jaehyun yells as Y/n, yet again, moves the decorations around and changes it from how he had set it up.

“No, you stop that!” Y/n counters, tired of having to keep moving them again and again because he was so darn stubborn.

“I asked first!”

“Well, I was the one who gave you the idea!”

“God, you’re so annoying!” Jaehyun grits his teeth, jaw clenching.

Y/n gasps at that, eyes narrowing at him threateningly and Yuta, Jaehyun’s friend, shuffles uneasily.

He really regretted asking you two to help him decorate the house for his partner's birthday surprise.

“I think you two should just take a break for now-”

“I can’t believe I love someone like you!” Y/n exclaims, frustratedly throwing her hands in the hair.

“I can’t believe I was attracted to you first.” he grunts, with an exasperated eye roll.

“Hey! I confessed first!”

“But I asked you out first.”

“And I said I loved you first-” Y/n gets cut off by a very frustrated looking Yuta.

“Are you two seriously fighting over that now?”

And that’s how those two got kicked out of his house.

“Hey Jae, it’s late where are you -”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I don’t think I can make it to today’s dinner.”

There’s a pause as she blinks, confused at the voices in the background. And then she a female voice calling for Jaehyun and he hurriedly apologises again and hangs up on her, leaving her confused and dazed.

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I… I think we should break up.”

Y/n’s hands pause mid-stir, halting mixing the batter. She turns off the stove and turns towards him.

“What… What do you mean?” Y/n couldn’t believe her ears.. What was he saying, all of a sudden?

“Listen, I’m sorry -” Jaehyun tries to explain, holding her by the shoulder, but she shrugs him off. Sighing, he runs his hand through his hair.

“Do you mean that? Please tell me it’s a joke-” Jaehyun cuts her off this time, with a shake of his head and her voice trails off.

“Why?” her voice tremors a little, and she swallows thickly. “Why now?”

And the guilty expression he gives as he explains how his family wished for him to marry Yeona, instead.

What hurt the most was, he didn’t even seem to want to fight back.

⇝(end of memory lane)

After weeks of moping around and avoiding people, Y/n had finally begun to feel like she was recovering - Jaehyun had tried to reach out to her several, under the request that they remain friends.

She said she would think about it.

She would be fine.

And eventually she agreed, but then a few months later she received an invitation to their wedding and it had felt like a slap to her face. She wanted to decline, but didn’t want to seem like a petty ex. They had been friends at first after all.

“Are you okay?”

The sudden voice snaps her out of her mini walk down the memory lane moment and she turns around to see Johnny standing there with his hands in his pocket, a small smile on his lips.

She looks away from him and at the water, pondering at what to answer.

And she was fine now, standing there with a drink in her hand, eyes on the beach where the water reflected the moon and the sand glistened from the light shining from the millions of lights set up outside the venue.

She was fine before him, and she would be fine now too.

“Yeah.” Her voice comes out soft but firm, and she’s grateful it doesn’t shake.

Johnny just nods, coming to stand beside her in silence, and she was fine with just standing next to him, sharing company in a comfortable silence as they both gazed out into the night, under the peace of the stars and beauty of the moon.

NCT masterlist.

[crellanstein]

Prodigious

I find it odd how the fandom focuses so much on Aang’s childhood being ruined when he learned he was the Avatar at 12, but there’s very little talk about how discovering she was the Avatar as a toddler affected Korra’s life and how she was raised.

But we’ll circle back to that...

Because this is a good starting point to talk about one of the most prevalent themes in the story, which the mainstream discussion of tends to only focus on a few characters -- That is the Child Prodigy. 

We’ll start with the two most obvious. The ones we always talk about.

Azula.

The clearest example of your typical child prodigy (if there is anything typical about a prodigy). Azula showed early mastery of very advanced Fire-Bending techniques, and is the only Fire-Bender to use blue flames, which was intended to make her stand out amongst the other villains but is also indicative that her Fire-Bending is more pure and powerful (blue flame is produced when burning pure O2 or fuel without contaminant at a very high temperature). 

All this lead to her being praised and favored by Ozai as a child, but as double-edged swords go, this also meant she had a lot of pressure on her shoulders to never fail, and she rarely did. Her ego matched her talent, and let’s be honest she was the baddest bitch the show had ever seen. Conquering Ba Sing Se, defeating the Avatar in combat, and dropping some of the most devastating lines of dialogue in villain history; she was a force nobody wanted to reckon with. 

And that become a problem for one asshole in particular...

Being jealous of his own child is just one item on a laundry list of reasons why this guy is the worst father in the history of fathers. Azula had begun to outshine him with her victories, and Ozai’s maniacal ego couldn’t handle that, so he left her behind to babysit the Fire Nation while he went out to burn/conquer the world, which also was her idea.

And while this wasn’t the only thing that aided in her demise, it certainly was the final straw which sent her spiraling down into this...

In the end Azula is a sad example of how certain unfair expectations are placed upon talented children, and the more they succeed, the more these expectations grow and weigh on the them until they either disappoint those looking down on them or surpass and embarrass their elders.

It is a lose-lose situation which inevitably destroys them.

There is a similar example of the child prodigy, but his story goes a little different.

Aang.

Even as a twelve/thirteen year-old boy Aang by far has the most impressive stats among any character in the Avatar universe.

Basically mastering 3 of the 4 Elements in less than a year, after mastering Air by the time he is twelve (not to mention inventing his own Air-bending move, the Air scooter). 

Aang is an example of a child prodigy who had too much thrust onto him at too young an age because of the talent he showed; because of this he panicked and ran away, and the world was worse off for it. 

Aang/Sokka/Katara’s story is all about how in times of War, responsibilities normally handled by adults are pushed onto kids who then have to grow up very fast in order to deal with it all.

The message is clear. War robs the young of their childhoods. 

Now, let’s talk about a different kind of child prodigy.

The Unacknowledged. 

Yes, of course I’m talking about Toph, the greatest Earth-Bender to ever live.

Because of her blindness, Toph’s family tried to keep her sheltered and safe by hiding her from the world. Refusing to believe she could ever be more than helpless. Anyone who has seen the show knows that is far from the truth.

But because her potential went unseen, there were some negative effects to her personality. Initially, she resented her parents, and rebelled; which established a certain level of independence, a bad attitude, and a hot-headed streak. Over time spent with the Gaang these behaviors subsided because she finally had friends and they accepted her for who she was. By the end of the series she was fully willing to accept aid from them when she needed it, like holding on to Sokka’s arm in environment where her bending couldn’t help her “see”. 

Toph’s story is a foil to Azula’s, both showed immense talent and badassery, but while recognition of Azula lead to ever-mounting pressure for her to succeed; the lack of recognition for Toph created a need for her to be acknowledged and set an undercurrent of frustration which leads to her acting out in the ways she does.

The lesson to take from Toph’s story is not to shelter your kid from the world out of fear for their safety, and to be open to recognizing their talents, not shun them.

Next are two more Unacknowledged.

Katara and Sokka.       

Their story, and the reason behind their circumstances, is one of the more complicated and nuanced ones in the series, so here we’ll focus on how it fits into the subject of discussion.

Because of the War, Katara was robbed not only of her mother but also of any Southern Masters to train her, and any role models Sokka could have looked up to left with his father to fight. Because of this Katara’s potential and Sokka’s genius went unacknowledged not due to neglect but rather due to circumstance. (Yes, I think Sokka is a genius, how many 15 yr olds do you know that can plan an invasion, design submarines, and spit poetry off the cuff?).

This is a further example of how War robs kids of necessary childhood experiences, and these two robberies had particular effects on both Katara and Sokka’s character developments.

Sokka had the responsibility of protecting his home put upon him at a young age. The men of his tribe leaving prevented him from completing his rite of manhood until the Gaang ran into Bato of the Water Tribe, and early on Sokka was constantly trying to prove himself as a man and a leader. Sokka is one of the smarter characters of the series, but he rarely got credit for it until the third season. Not to mention that because he wasn’t a bender he often seemed less useful than the others. The circumstances of war made his talent go unnoticed and because of that he often was unsure of himself and overcompensated to prove something.

Speaking of talent going unnoticed.

Katara is definitely one of the more talented benders of the series. After training herself for years with little progress, she essentially mastered Water-Bending in a few weeks under Master Pakku. While her anger towards the Fire-Nation mostly centers around the loss of her mother, it can’t be ignored that the delay in her training was a direct result of the Fire-Nations’ actions.  Toph’s anger and frustration vented itself as rebellion. However, the same frustration and anger is within Katara, but because she wasn’t as natural a bender as Toph she sought to learn and be respected, and when that was denied to her is when that anger bubbled to the surface in some terrifying ways. 

While Toph’s talent went unnoticed because of her families neglect, Katara and Sokka’s wasn’t acknowledged because there was nobody to acknowledge it. Because of that both brother and sister wanted to prove themselves to the world.

And then there is Zuko.

I know what you’re thinking. Zuko wasn’t a prodigy, his Fire-Bending skill didn’t catch up with Azula’s until the finale and he never mastered Lightning-Bending, but this section is about the Unacknowledged.

Zuko had many other talents besides Fire-Bending, he was a master swordsmen, and was able to successfully break into every secure facility he attempted in the show (which was almost every secure facility the show featured).  Unfortunately, these talents were never recognized, because the only thing the royal family cared about was bending ability (It’s possible the reason he learned the sword was because he lacked skill in Fire-Bending). 

As per usual with Zuko, this part of his tale is quite sad. Many can relate to being outshined by a sibling, and when it becomes all too clear that one cannot match another’s talent it’s quite understandable to focus on what they do excel at, but even then there is no promise of recognition for their own talent. Zuko was even mocked by his father during the solar eclipse when Ozai tried baiting him into attacking with his swords. 

This lack of recognition is one of many sad aspects of Zuko’s early life, but it is a definitive example of one of the hardest unacknowledged prodigy’s cross to bear. The Outshone prodigy, one whose talents are never noticed because a bigger and brighter star stands in the way of such recognition, and arguably the most frustrating type mentioned here. Toph/Sokka/Katara all came from situations were there was no recognition being given to them or anyone, but Zuko had to bear watching massive amounts of praise be piled on to his sister while he and his accomplishments went by the way side.

Ozai summed up the situation best.

“Azula was born lucky, Zuko was lucky to be born”

Alright now where have I been going with all this?

So, far we’ve covered a lot of wrong ways to treat a child, whether they show talent or not, and how the circumstances of war can also take many things from children.

But what happened to Korra?

(Before we get into to this I should state that I like Korra, and the purpose of this is not to bash her as a character or her arc, but rather to give a little of my insight into it.)

It’s well established that Aang was told of his heritage too young, and that was a detriment on his development into an adult, but what would have happened if he realized his powers himself not long after he could walk? We’ll never know, but we do get to see the effects it had on Korra. 

When she revealed herself as the Avatar, Korra set her entire life in a new direction, and because Aang tasked the White Lotus with finding and training her that direction was out of her control. There are two key differences between Korras’ and other Avatars’ lives.

1. She grew up in isolation on a White Lotus compound.

Every Avatar before Korra we know of spent a portion of their early lives traveling the world in order to master the elements; along this journey they not only learned how to bend the other 3 elements, buy also many things about the 3 other nations and the world they are tasked to protect as a whole. By confining Korra in safety and bringing the masters to her the White Lotus deprived Korra of this opportunity to learn and grow and understand the world and the people within in. It also deprived her of learning modern bending styles until she reached Republic City.

While this might have kept Korra safe from the Red Lotus, it grew within her a naiveté about how the world worked, and because of this when she actually did venture out into the world she was terribly unprepared for it.

2.  She was trained and mastered 3 of the elements by the time she was 16.

Most Avatars don’t know they have this power until they reach 16 and then they spend several years learning to control it. Korra’s natural talent in the bending lead to her training being expedited not by necessity like Aang’s, but due to her talent and eagerness. Korra excelled at the physical part of being the Avatar and because of this by the time she reached maturity she had become over-confident in her abilities and true to what her Fire-Bending master said in Ep.1 she lacked restraint.

I’m not saying her bending isn’t great, but rather because it is so great it’s her go-to solution to anything, and she enjoys that so she uses it with enthusiastic gusto and not a lot of thinking before striking.

This overconfidence coupled with her naiveté of the world is what lead to many of her rash decisions and actions, most of which had negative consequences, and I believe are the reason behind some fan are dissatisfied with her. Aang had been almost the complete opposite, even by the age of twelve he was an experienced world traveler and an incredibly humble guy. 

Some may have been dissatisfied by these character decisions, but they served a purpose, they are only the beginning of her arc. The internal challenge Korra must overcome through 4 seasons is to humble herself before the world, and learn from it. This was finally achieved in the 4th season when the metal poisoning in her body forces her to face others in the world as equals, only then had she completed her journey.

And why did it all go this way?

Because she is a very unique child prodigy, what she demonstrates in the first episode of LOK would be akin to a toddler playing the violin or hitting a three-pointer; she could bend 3 elements close to just after learning to walk. That is the kind of prodigious talent rarely seen because it is mostly impossible. How does a rational person handle a child like that? 

It’s a tough question, and something this essay has been circling around the whole time. Each example here is the wrong way to handle talented and different children, but what is the right way?

As always look to Iroh.

Who treated his surrogate son Zuko with both respect and compassion. 

Unlike Toph’s parents, Iroh worried over Zuko’s well being, but also allowed him to be independent, make his own decisions, and take his own risks.

Unlike the Nomad Leaders, he didn’t want Zuko weighed down by his position in the world and the responsibility that came with, and always encouraged him relax and take advantage of the moment.

Unlike Ozai, Iroh would always be there to support Zuko in his victories and his failures. Iroh shows him the right path but does not force him down it.

And even after Zuko betrayed and abandoned him.

Iroh was never angry with him, and embraced him upon his return.

He wanted Zuko to grow and be a better man. Even if Zuko wasn’t a prodigy like his sister. 

And that is the answer here. The way to raise a prodigy is the same way anyone should raise any child. Love, Support, a Guiding Hand rather than a Forceful Shove, Recognition of What Makes Them Unique, and Forgiveness When They Falter. The problem comes along when you start treating children differently because you see them as different or special. All children are different, all children are special.

Kids are kids, and they all deserve a proper childhood.  

[azaleavi]

Pretty boy

Summary: You don't like James Barnes. Of course not when he has a different girl with him every time. And no, you are not jealous... right?

Word count: 3.8k i went OUT with this one

Warnings: language, a man being a creep, then getting beaten up, kissing, very slight alcohol consumption

Author's note: This gave me the idea. It turned out to be pretty long. Sorry. I hope you like it! This is 40s!Bucky btw.

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

Part 2

James Barnes was a menace. An annoying little shit, who thought he could do anything and have anyone just because he was handsome. Not like you found him attractive or anything, but all the girls of New York seemed to drop their panties at the sight of him. One pet name and they were ready to kiss the ground he walked on. You couldn’t understand. How did these girls not see what kind of person he was? Multiple times you saw girls leave his apartment in the morning looking all sad. At first you felt bad for them, but after a while as they kept coming back you just couldn’t bring yourself to pity them.

Being a close friend of Steve meant you got to see a lot of James too. They were kind of a package deal, to which - by the way - you did not sign up for. Steve was the sweetest person you’ve ever met, maybe too righteous sometimes and he definitely did not know how to walk away from a fight, but he was a good man inside and out. James on the other hand was not like him. He wasn’t a bad man per se, but he was just too much of a player for you. He knew he was handsome and he used it to get girls all the time. Or dames as he called them. You hated that word by every fiber of your being. It reduced a woman to a simple object in your opinion and it basically said that she was only a pretty thing and nothing else. You did not want to be a pretty thing, you wanted more out of your life. Marrying some stuck up man and bearing his children was not something you dreamed of, no matter how many times people told you that it was what you had to do. No. You wanted a life that didn’t revolve around men. A life that you could choose for yourself. But it wasn’t that easy. Everyone expected you to do what they did. It didn’t even occur to them that you wanted something else.

Your mom had been telling you that you should marry James as he was such a nice young man. You just rolled your eyes every time she brought it up. She didn’t understand. How could she when she was so in love with your father after they met a few times that they got married just after a couple of months of knowing each other. Their love was something so extraordinary that you knew it wouldn’t happen to you. Especially not with James. He wasn't thinking about marriage and even if he did he wouldn't want you as a wife. Not like you wanted to marry him or anyone else for that matter, but that didn't mean that it didn't sting a little that he went after every girl he saw, but never thought of you the same way. He never even tried and it beat down your confidence a little. When you first met James you found him intriguing, your young self even had a crush on him for a while. But it didn't take long for you to get to know the real him and the disappointment made you force that crush down. You only laughed at yourself now, finding it hilarious that you once wanted to kiss him and love him. Of course, you didn't feel that way about him anymore. That would be stupid of you. Of course..

-

Having a night out with Steve was a wonderful idea. That is until James showed up, making you narrow your eyes at your friend. You clearly remembered him telling you that James had other plans and it would be just the two of you, but of course he had to mess up your plans.

You went to a bigger pub in the city, having been there before and liking it. James dragged Steve away as soon as you entered, talking about some girl he wanted to introduce him to, so you just went to the bar to ask for some alcohol. God knows you needed it if James was around.

All of the sudden two hands grabbed your waist and turned you around. Before you could realize what was happening a pair of lips were on yours, kissing with so much passion you almost moaned into it. Noses bumping against each other your hand gripped his hair. Your mind cleared as you realized that a stranger was kissing you without your permission and you pushed him away by his chest, hand already raised to slap him. Your whole body froze as you came face to face with a familiar man. James.

"What the fuck is your problem?" you hissed, your palm almost connecting with his cheek, but being stopped by his hand on your wrist. He pulled you close again by his hold on your arm.

"There is a girl I need to get rid of. Just play along" he mumbled, his breath hitting your lips as he leaned in for another kiss. You almost got lost in him again, but you were more aware and not caught by surprise this time so you managed to pull your head away from him.

"I will do no such thing" you narrowed your eyes at him. "Let go of me" you were getting angrier by the second. Who did he think he was?

"What if I don't want to?" Okay that's it. You ripped yourself from his arms.

“Listen here, pretty boy” you pointed your finger at him in your anger, not registering the smug expression that worked its way onto his face. “You can’t just do whatever you want because you are a-“

“You think I’m pretty?” he interrupted your angry rambling and grabbed your finger to pull you closer by it. In your surprise you stumbled forward, your hands finding place on his chest, your nose a few inches from his.

“James” you called out his name in warning. If he didn’t let go of you right now you wouldn’t be responsible for what you did to him.

“Come on, doll. I told you to call me Bucky multiple times” he smirked down at you.

“And I told you that we are not friends therefore I don’t have to call you your stupid nickname” you yanked your hand out of his grip, stepping back. “And stop calling me doll. I’m not one of your girls”

“Ouch doll, that hurts my feelings” he rubbed his chest where his heart was.

“Oh, I didn’t know you knew what those were” you frowned at him, not amused by his teasing. He opened his mouth in mocking shock.

"Don't be so mean to me. A lady like you should always be polite." he teased, knowing well that you hated being called a lady and being told what you should and should not do.

"Good thing I'm not a lady then" you grimaced at him, cocking your head to the side.

"Well, with the way you've been talking to me, I guess you aren't" he stepped back into your personal space. "And if you are not a lady then you should have no problem playing along with me."

"I'm might not be a lady, but I'm definitely not one of your dames either" you pushed him by his shoulders to finally have enough space between you.

"Are you jealous, doll?" a smug smile played on his lips.

"Oh very." your sarcasm was clear as day. "It would be an honor to lie in your bed then leave in the morning, only to never hear from you again." you turned back to the bar, your drink already in front of you. Lifting the glass you nodded at the bartender who gave you a small smile. You drowned it in one shot, the alcohol giving your throat a familiar burn as it went down. "Is there anything else you need?" you turned back to him. He didn't say anything as he kept staring at you. "No? Then you can leave me alone" you shooed him away by your hands, already done with his shenanigans.

"Don't drink too much because of me" he called after you as he walked backwards, that stupid smile not leaving his lips. Rolling your eyes you turned back to the bar, leaning on it with your elbows, a sigh leaving your lips.

How could he just kiss you like that? You thought he at least had some respect for you, bit it seemed like he didn't. He was James Barnes for god's sake. Of course he didn't. You didn't know what you were thinking. He wasn't different from any man. A part of you believed that he might have been but he just proved it that he wasn't. Your mother would loose her mind if she knew what her 'nice young man' did to you just now.

You shook your head to get the thoughts out of it and signaled for the bartender to give you another shot. You drowned that one too as someone sat down next to you. You were ready to tell him to fuck off, thinking it was James again, but as you turned your head it was a man your age. You lifted your eyebrows, not being in the mood to deal with another self-centered man.

"What is a pretty dame like you doing here alone?" he tried to flirt, but he already lost you at the word he called you.

"I'm not here alone. And it's none of your business" you showed him a mocking smile and stood up ready to leave, your night already ruined. A hand locking around your wrist made you stop.

"Come on. I just want to make you have a good time" he smirked, but it left his lips as soon as you ripped your arm out of his hold.

"I don't care about your good time" you rubbed your wrist, his grip leaving the skin red.

"Okay. I tried being nice, but you clearly don't care for it. Maybe you like men when they are being a little more forceful? You like 'em rough?" he pulled you to his body by your waist, your hands flying to his chest trying to push him away. Why is this happening to you now?

"Let go of me" you squirmed in his hold, disgusted by him. Unfortunately he was stronger than you and didn't loosen his arms around you no matter how hard you hit his chest.

"You like this don't ya?" his breath hit your cheek as you tried to get as far away as you could.

"No, I don't. Stop" you were getting desperate, looking around for anyone to help you. There were a lot of people around, but none of them seemed to care. Tears gathered in your eyes.

Suddenly the man was pulled backwards by his collar, a fist meeting his cheek a second later, making you gasp. He fell down on the ground, but your savior didn't let him get away that easily as he hit him a few more times. You quickly stepped closer and that's when you saw his face. It was James. Your shock quickly dissipated as he lifted his arm again to hit the other man. You hands grabbed his forearm and you tried to pull him away, making him look at you.

"Stop it, James. He is already on the ground" you pleaded. A relieved sigh left your lips as he stepped away, his arm going around your waist to lead you away from the crowd that formed around you.

"Are you okay?" he stopped you in front of the building, the cold night air picking at your skin.

"Yes, I'm fine." you rubbed your arms, stopping your movements as he grabbed your arm that had the red bruise on it.

"Did he do that to you?" he almost growled, head turning to look inside the place.

"Yes, but it's fine. It doesn't hurt that much" you put your hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. Why did he care anyway?

The door opened and Steve walked out, a worried look on his face. you immediately pulled your hand away from James, stepping back.

"I heard what happened. Are you okay?" his eyes traveled over your whole body, trying to see if you were hurt.

"I'm fine, Steve." you forced a smile in his direction. In truth you weren't completely fine, but the boys didn't need to know that.

"I'll walk her home" James spoke up from next to you, making you look at him in surprise.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking home myself, thank you" you replied to him.

"I know that, but both of us would be more relaxed if someone was with you. And Steve was talking to a pretty woman before I left" he sent a knowing smile to the man. You looked at him, only to see him looking down at his feet, a blush on his cheek confirming James' words.

"Steve! What are you doing out here then?" you almost shouted at him. "Go back inside right now. I'll be fine." you waved him off.

"I'll go check on you tomorrow, okay?" he was already inching backwards toward the door.

"Yes, okay, just go" you laughed, happy for him. He walked back inside, leaving the two of you alone. "So you don't have to walk me home, just stay outside for a little while so Steve doesn't get suspicious." you forced another smile on your face.

"I will not let you walk around alone this late at night." he grabbed your arm that wasn't bruised and started pulling you towards your home.

"I've done it multiple times before" you argued, but walked alongside with him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

For the duration of the walk neither of you spoke a word, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. The silence between you was nice, letting you look around as he still held your arm, neither of you wanting to let go. He made you feel safe as you walked along the dim streets, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Thanks for walking me home" you reached your house, stopping in front of the door as you turned to him.

"Isn't there something else you should thank me for too?" he smirked, stepping closer.

"Well I was about to say it, but now I'm not going to" you put your hands behind you, leaning on the door.

"It's not only with words that you can thank me" he leaned closer, his face a few inches from yours for the second time that night. There it is.

"You know, I was thinking that you are not so bad while we were walking home, but you just reminded me why I don't like you" you smiled at him.

"And why is that?" he tilted his head to the side.

"You just can't keep it in your pants." you shook your head.

"Actually I wanted to apologize about earlier." he got serious, stepping backwards to put some distance between you.

"Earlier?" you asked back, confused as to what he was referring to.

"The kiss" he mumbled, looking down, almost as if he was nervous. But James Barnes does not get nervous.

"Oh." it was all you could say, surprise taking over your brain.

"So I'm sorry" he kept looking down.

"Uhm... it's okay, I guess?" you didn't know what to say to that, thoughts running through your mind a thousand miles an hour.

"I'm just gonna go now." he pointed behind him awkwardly. As he turned away you couldn't help yourself and you called after him, the alcohol in your system giving you courage.

"You are really not that bad, James." he turned back, surprise written all over his face, but he quickly covered it up by a smirk.

"Is that a compliment I hear?" you rolled your eyes at him. There was the James you knew.

"And it might be the last if you keep this up" you let out a smile. "But seriously, we could be friends if you didn't do what you do." you shrugged nonchalantly.

"What am I doing?" he asked, confused.

"You know, every time I see you, you have a different girl on your arm" you couldn't look into his eyes, a little embarrassed.

"You avoid me because of that?" his eyes widened.

"Yes. What did you think the reason was?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"I don't know. I just thought you do it because you don't like me, not because you are jealous" he let out a laugh.

"I am not jealous, James. Get that out of your head." you looked away as a blush crept up your cheeks.

"Oh god you are blushing" he continued to laugh, the redness of your cheek only deepening. "I can't believe you like me" he mused.

"Okay, that is enough out of you. I'm going inside" you turned and reached for the handle as he grabbed you to turn you back around, your back hitting the wood of the door, his left arm on the door next to your face, his right circled around your waist. You let out a gasp at how close his face was.

"You didn't deny it" he whispered, his warm breath hitting your lips. Your mouth opened, realizing your mistake.

"I-" you wanted to defend yourself, but nothing came to mind. His right hand touched your face, palm flat against your cheek. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, closing your eyes for a second. Your eyes snapped open when you realized what you were doing and pushed his hand away. "I'm not one of your dames, James" you looked into his eyes. You couldn't let him treat you like any other girl. You refused to be another one night stand for him. A stable relationship you could work with, but being someone he called when he was bored was not something you wanted or could handle.

"No, you are not." he agreed.

"Then don't treat me like them" you pushed yourself more into the door. You were afraid. Not of him, he would never hurt you. Not physically at least. But you were afraid of what would happen. Will he leave you saying that he won't give up that lifestyle for you? Or will he stay with you?

"Never" he shook his head.

"I don't want to be one of many" you continued, trying to get him to understand.

"You know why I was always with a different girl?" he pulled away slightly.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to forget about you. I thought you didn't like me because you were always so distant. So I just wanted to find someone else, but none of them compared to you." he brushed his thumb along your lower lip. Your eyes met his as he lifted your head by your chin. "None of them were you" his nose bumped against yours. "I like you. I did from the first time we met" he finally confessed, your heart skipping a beat at his words.

"James" his name left your lips in a sigh. "Kiss me" he didn't need more as his lips latched onto yours, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. His tongue swiped across your lip asking for entrance and as you opened your mouth, his body pushed you against the door, trapping you. It was a trap you never wanted to escape. His hands held your head, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as you arms were around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Your heart beat rapidly as his hands traveled down your body, stopping at your waist.

A few moments later he had to pull away as both of you needed air, but de didn't go far, only enough for you to catch your breath. His forehead leaning against yours, noses touching, the two of you giggled into each others mouths.

"Wow" he mumbled as he left short pecks on your lips, unable to keep himself away from you. It was your first real kiss and he was already addicted.

"Stop it" you giggled and let him press one long peck on you before pushing him away. "I don't want you to get bored of that" you teased.

"I could never" he pressed another kiss on your mouth, making you laugh.

"Okay, I understand" you could barely talk as he still had his mouth on yours. He pulled you closer and rested his head on your shoulder.

"You are amazing" he murmured into the fabric of your clothes.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, James" you were glad he couldn't see your face as it was coated in a red blush.

"I'm just saying the truth" he pressed his lips to your cheek.

"I probably should get inside, before we wake up my parents." you sucked in your lips try to hide your smile.

"Maybe" he agreed, but made no move to let you go.

"You have to let me go for that to happen" you pulled away as much as you could.

"Then you shouldn't go" he teased, still holding you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, or today I should say" you reassured him and he let go at that. You straightened your clothes as he watched you. Looking up at him the softness in his eyes almost made you say 'fuck it' and spend the rest of the night with him, but you held yourself back. He turned and walked down the stairs, but suddenly ran buck up to you to press one more long kiss on your soft lips. You couldn't help, but let a smile break out on your lips as he pulled away to look into your eyes once more.

He was already out on the street when you remembered something.

"Hey, pretty boy!" you called after him once more, making him turn around with a big smile on his face from the nickname. "Good night" you bit your lip, trying to hide your own smile, but failing miserably.

"Good night to you too, doll" he playfully bowed down a little, making you let out a laugh.

If someone saw you that night, under the moonlight, they would have seen two people completely in love with one another, laughing, being happy that they finally found their missing piece that was in front of them the whole time. Eyes shining like the stars above them as they watched each other, only the moon being witness of their intimate moment.

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[iwadori]

Atsumu dating Kita's younger sister (their manager). That's it. That's the request. Hope you like this prompt 🤞😅

Dating your brothers teammate (Atsumu)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 1.6K

Genre: angst, fluff

ATSUMU

You and Atsumu started dating a month after Kita introduced you in your first year

You’re now in your second year and still going strong

However, no ones knows about your relationship since Atsumu said you being the manager and him being the setter it will affect the team dynamic?

You start the day off, seeing a message from your boyfriend,

‘Tsumu: Mornning babe, can’t wait to see you today!

You don’t respond, you are Atsumu have been at odds for the past few weeks as you feel like you guys should make your relationship public. Not even public per se, but you definitely feel it shouldn’t be hidden away especially with it being nearly two years of you being together.

Of course, Atsumu disagreed. He felt like at this moment you and him revealing your relationship to the team will just mess up the ‘dynamics’ or whatever that’s supposed to mean.

You get ready for school eating the breakfast your grandma made you and conversing with her and Kita before you both headed off to school together meeting Aran on the way.

You had an early morning practice and you didn’t mind it. To be honest, you love being around the team you were all a little family, you having a good relationship with all the guys.

This morning, the guys were all practicing different sorts of skills Kita was helping some of the gives with dives and receives and the rest doing other things. You were helping Osamu, Suna and Atsumu with there serves. 

Regardless of your public or private relationship status with Atsumu, you the twins and Suna were all good friends. You did have a slight inclination that Osamu and Suna knew of the relationship with you and Suna but just didn’t bring it up.

At the end of practice, the usual fan club was there waiting for the twins and the other guys to flirt and talk with them. As you are their manager, you did get some slight hate and jealousy from the other girls in your year but you didn’t pay no mind to it. 

When leaving practice, Atsumu (who usually walks with you to your class) gets stopped by a girl who seems to have something important to say so you politely step to the side (still in ear shot though.) 

“Miya-san” she said a bit nervous as her finger were shaking “I have this letter I would like for you to read.” 

He took the letter and said “Thank you, and you can just call me Atsumu” he smile at her.

“Thank you Atsumu, I hope to hear a response to you soon” she says about to walk away “Also, just to clarify you are single right?”

“Yes yes of course” he assures quickly making you annoyed “Why did you ask?”

“I assumed you were dating your manager, you seem pretty close”

“Oh her” he laughs and you already start to walk to your lesson leaving him behind “we’re just friends”

This makes the girl smile as she leaves, Atsumu turns to where you were standing shocked that you were completely vanished. He did think back to the conversation you had a week ago about your relationship status which did make him kind of sad for you since he did understand your reasoning he just wanted to you atleast wait it out till nationals is done.

He finds you at lunch, and to him it seems you don’t have a problem with him at all as you were being your usual smiley self interacting with him and all of your friends. So he assumed everything was fine (which it wasn’t of course.)

The next day at practice, when it ended the same girl came back again this time with friends and instead of approaching Atsumu they decided to approach you.

“Hi you’re the manager right?” one of them asks.

“Yup I have been for the past couple years.” you say 

“Oh and you’re definitely not dating any of the guys on the team right?”

“I don’t see why it’s any of your business, but no i’m not.” it pained you to say this but you did agree with Atsumu to say you weren’t dating to people and as much as it pained you to say this you couldn’t break your ‘agreement.’

Once the girls leave, you start to softly cry because you don’t want to have to hide your relationship anymore. Atsumu enters the corridor and sees you upset and rushes towards you, “Hey babe what’s wrong with you?” he asks 

“Nothing ‘tsumu just go back to practice” you murmur 

“No i’m not going until you tell me whats wrong?”

“it’s just that girl that confessed to you yesterday and her friends approached me about if I was dating anyone and i-”

“what did you say, he told them no right?” he interrupts

“Is that all you care about? Wether I keep our relationship secret or not ..” you say slightly raising your voice 

“Well I would appreciate if you don’t go round telling the world that you’re dating me gosh Y/N” he shouts a bit 

“I’m not even fucking doing that, I havent told a soul and that’s all because of YOU” 

You’re screaming match has alerted the team (who you didn’t notice) and they all stood around you watching before Kita steps in “Y/N are you okay??”

“yeah i’m fine bro” you say preparing to leave with tears still in your eyes “I just got into an argument with a friend” 

Before you leave the corridor you look back at Atsumu and catch all the guys attention when you say “Also Atsumu, happy anniversay ‘babe’”

“I KNEW IT!” shouts Osamu but Suna nudges him telling him to ‘read the room.’ Kita slowly approaches Atsumu and punches him in the face “I don’t care what you did but you made my sister cry so you better go fix it you dick”

Atsumu nodded and clutched his face, “Also I think it was pretty evident that you guys were dating.”

“Wait they were dating?” said Aran

You were in your room, scrolling through old pictures of you and Atsumu and looking at the presents he was going to give him for your anniversary still crying. You hear a knock on your door “Granny, I’m not hungry right now” you shout. But the door opens anyways “Granny I said I wasn-” you pause when you see a bruised Atsumu ‘Kita’ you think making yourself smile at the thought of your brother coming to your defence.

“Y/N, i’m sorry baby for trying to hide our relationship and not seeing how wrong it was until it was knocked into me... literally” he says cautiously sitting on your bed “ I’ve always wanted to be able to show off to the world but I just couldn’t cause I thought Kita would be mad and I genuinely thought it would mess up the team dynamic, however I’d rather have Kita be mad at me and the team loosing nationals if it meant getting to date you”

His words make you swoon and to add on to your fawning he whips out a wrapped up box giving it to you. When you open it, you see it’s a necklace with both your initials on it “ Happy anniversay babe, this has been one of the best years of my life.”

You silently hand him your presents, murmuring a quiet “Happy anniversary.” After seeing your presents, he gives you a big deep hug whispering mutiple thank yous and compliments into your neck making you smile.

“So does this mean we’re in a public relationship? right?” you ask making sure you were on the same page.

“Of course!” he exclaims “Also check your phone”

You look down at your phone seeing a bunch of notifications all tagging you in one post that was from Atsumu on instagram. It was 8 pictures of him and you and a caption that read *insert long romantic sappy paragraph that I’m too lazy too write since its 3 am :3* 

Your heart was overwhelmed with love for Atsumu, you spent the rest of your night cuddling and watching movies and before you went to sleep you told him you loved him.

Waking up the next morning, you thought it was all a dream to be honest. Because there was no way that Atsumu did all that right? You go downstairs and are shocked at the sight you see, Atsumu and Kita both sitting down eating breakfast together “What are you doing with my boyfr-” you stop yourself from finishing that sentence,

“Its okay Y/N you can say boyfriend, I have given your boyfriend the talk I just had to make sure that he knows that if he was ever to lay a finger on you that he would definitely get a bi-”

“Ughh nii-chan you’re being so embarrasing” you say pulling Atsumu back upstairs hearing Kita’s laughter in the backround.

You and Atsumu, stay together and it wasn’t much of a suprise when your relationship was public to the rest of the school and that girl that wanted Atsumu she ended up with Osamu anyways (it does makes sense since they do have the same face afterall.) Kita enjoys his days embarassing the both of you whenever you’re at your house. But you don’t care since you can finally show off to the world how great your boyfriend is.

Authors Notes: I don’t know if you wanted it to have angst in it but I hope you enjoy? Might make this a series so if you want anymore characters Request them and I’ll write for them too 

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

Read Between the Lines

This was actually one of the first projects I had planned within this subfandom, and I’m kind of sad to say that I probably won’t return to see it through. There were two different approaches to it, and in hindsight, this was the better one.

Standard disclaimers apply. It’s horribly unfinished. Slightly more cohesive than usual, though.

---

There was a strange ruin running along the shared border between the Alabaster Icelands and Coronet Highlands. Nestled perpendicular between its mountain range and reaches that could barely be called the Cobalt Coastlands, the sight was unlike anything Akari had observed in Hisui.

It was like… boxes. Big boxes. Large enough for a human to get inside and walk around, and when she did so, it was clear she wasn’t the first. Whatever this was, people had made it and intended to spend time inside of it. A shelter of some kind? There were seats, and some strange device in the far corner. She didn’t understand why there were doors on all sides; two of them couldn’t even open, jammed in place by the mountain the structure was set against. Why bother?

Her shoes clacked on the dark floor as she walked, and she quickly adjusted her gait to move silently.

Strange. The seats showed signs of wear-- not damage, wear-- but there weren’t any of the hallmarks that would make this a living space. It was empty, save for the [device] across the room and the bars hanging overhead. Akari reached up as she passed, touching one of the rings dangling from the railings; it swayed gently. She moved on.

The thing in the corner was familiar; when she stood before it, her hands automatically took up a placement on its buttons. Muscle memory led her through a specific series of taps, but nothing happened. The window above it remained dark, reflecting her own face back at her.

She turned away and tried the large door at the room’s end. There was a little resistance as she slid it open, but only the amount that came with disuse, and when she peered in, she found the same room, repeated.

This one, however, wasn’t empty.

It wasn’t lived in per se, but there were traces of human activity: tumblestones broken in the telltale mis-strokes of early pokeball crafting, the husks of several long-dried apricorns. There was a lantern hanging from one rail-- not along the bar with the rings, but tied to the support jutting from the wall, positioned so someone could sit and work in the radius of its light.

On the opposite side, a crude basket was shoved off against the wall-- barring an already-useless door-- and inside Akari found more withered crafting materials. Mostly, the contents were mushrooms: swordcaps and barktongues, but a few stray rawst and aspears lingered, in addition to a bundle of bugwort that looked like it hadn’t been touched since its harvest. She suspected her Pokemon would agree with whoever had left it to collect dust.

Despite being orders more [welcoming?] than the first room, it was still [very empty], so it didn’t take long for her eyes to fall upon the book resting on the lantern’s seat. She opened it to a random page, mildly surprised to find it empty. She flicked back, and back, and back. Finally, about the first third in, something filled a page. [idk what it is rn, but it would need to be last thoughts/preparations. Maybe a list of readied supplies?]

She tucked it away to study in better light.

There had only been four of the large boxes-- and even then, just two that were completely intact-- so Akari peered into the next, but wasn’t surprised to find it terminated halfway into a sheer rock face. She walked in anyway, stood with her back to the base of the cliff, and looked down the structure like it was a hallway. It didn’t offer any further insights, so she headed out, drawing the doors shut as she went.

The first of the boxes she’d investigated, before entering any of the enclosed ones, was little more than shell-- a frame for native plants to climb and drape themselves over. Now that she knew what the other rooms held, she recognized that part of a seat had survived, but most of it had been reclaimed by the wilderness. Briefly, she considered brushing the creeping vines away from it and settling herself to look over her find, but there was a whole host of reasons that was a bad idea, and she dismissed the thought.

Instead, she exited, stepping carefully over the half-buried bits of metal that marked its perimeter, and walked far enough back to give the entire thing another once-over.

Akari still didn’t know what to make of it and, unless she could find whoever had been frequenting the metallic husk, there weren’t any further answers to be found here. Considering the long claw marks marring the outer walls, punctuating the wide, single orange stripe, she suspected they’d long since fled.

She was a little surprised nothing had jumped out at her, actually. She’d taken pains to ensure that the Pokemon that had scored the walls hadn’t still been lurking, but she’d nearly expected something to be waiting in the last room. It made enough sense, she guessed; most Pokemon couldn’t navigate these kinds of doors.

Still, it felt like [leaving] now was admitting defeat, like leaving a job half-done. It itched, and she thumbed the edge of the book, wondering if it might have any clues for her.

If she was going to find out one way or the other, she needed to get moving. The Coronet outskirts weren’t the place to catch up on her reading.

---

When she got home, Akari promptly broke the book back out. She started from the beginning, this time, and was immediately confronted with a number:

17XX

[figure out timeline] ago. That wasn’t as long as she might have assumed the boxes had been accumulating plant life, but it wasn’t an unbelievable difference. She thought little of it, compared to the line beneath.

With an unpracticed hand, someone had written ‘Hisui’. Next to it, in a script she’d never seen, it also said ‘Hisui’, and, beside that, ‘Sinnoh?’

Her hopes that the book might explain the metal construct rapidly faded, replaced with pure confusion. The rest of the page-- composed mostly of similar words without context, including a string of disconnected ‘Galaxy – Galactic – Plasma?’-- was written in the same language.

It wasn’t even that she was inferring the words based on similar characters; while some undeniably resembled Hisuian script, she knew without a trace of doubt what they spelled out. The meaning behind some of the words may have eluded her, but they still made sense. She still knew they meant something.

Near the bottom, there was another doubled line: ‘Diamond Clan, Adaman,’ and, printed next to the non-Hisuian translation, ‘’Almighty Sinnoh’ is Dialga?’

Akari stared blankly at the page for several minutes. A far cry from what she’d expected-- a journal, maybe-- this felt more like a corkboard on which someone was pinning accumulated evidence and tying string. She didn’t pretend to know what they were getting at, and took a peek at the next page, hoping it wasn’t more of the same.

It wasn’t. Oh, there were still disembodied words floating around, but with more purpose this time. There were three short stacks of names, each labeled ‘Diamond,’ ‘Pearl,’ or ‘Galaxy,’ in Hisuian, and then the foreign language. Laventon’s had been marked with an asterisk, and Calaba’s a question mark. Akari had no idea what to think.

Beneath that, however, there was a rough map sketched out. Not of Hisui, but, in the same way she’d taken to the foreign letters, Akari knew where Hisui was on it. Whoever had drawn it hadn’t bothered with labels, notable landmarks, or even basic notation; the best she could infer from were a series of faint marks, as if someone had been tapping their writing implement against one continent in particular.

Smudged in the margin was a note of some kind; the exact words were lost, but she could make out ‘multi cars,’ ‘old materials,’ ‘concern’ and ‘ecosystem’.

There was another map on the opposite page, recognizably of Hisui’s landscape. Unlike the first, arrows pointed into this one, to Deertrack Heights, the Shrouded Ruins, Moonview Arena and Cloudcap Pass, each attached to a list of Pokemon. A not insubstantial number of the Pokemon’s names had question marks next to them, which wasn’t surprising-- what was surprising was which Pokemon the author seemed confused by. Braviary and Lilligant, for instance, were marked as questionable, and ‘Basculin’ was accompanied by not one, but two question marks. The likes of Manaphy, Regigigas and Darkrai, however, seemed to have been accepted without a second thought.

Warping on the page told her something had been drawn on its reverse side, too, and she turned to investigate.

She recognized the content instantly, but it took a second to click that it corresponded to the page before it. Across the next two, the book’s owner had carefully recreated the Pokemon depicted in the murals scattered across Hisui; each was marked with a name-- their points of confusion consistent-- and labeled with where it had been found. Akari flipped between the two pages several times, verifying that the information was the same on both.

At the bottom righthand corner, however, was a Pokemon Akari wasn’t familiar with. The style wasn’t quite right-- a dead giveaway that it was just the writer emulating the art-- but it was nice in and of itself. A circle [idk] into spiraling squares and branching lines, each topped with an elongated teardrop shape. Its main body had been traced over several times, leaving the strokes dark and thick. In comparison, its face was an elegant filigree, despite the fact that it was just circles and straight lines. As with the others, it had been labeled. ‘Chandelure – Home’.

Akari sat back against the wall, something tugging at the very edges of her mind.

[...]

She flipped past the first few pages, eyes lingering, briefly, on the alleged Chandelure.

There was a marked difference in the content. Instead of diagrams or translations, this page was devoted to Dialga. And not in the way the Diamond Clan would devote writings to it.

‘Dialga – Dragon/Steel’

‘Likely special attacker, steel type-- high defenses. Hit hard, hit fast. Ground & fighting.’

There were other notes in the same vein, proposing battle strategies against quadrupeds and, oddly, aerial maneuvers, which quickly turned from theoretical into something more concrete.

‘Does he have Hyper Cutter, Sand Veil or Poison Heal?’

‘Swords Dance, Roost, Earthquake. Facade? Toxic?’ was joined by the later addition of ‘Poison Heal. Facade.’ and then the entire line was struck out, its writer amending that some of the moves ‘didn’t seem to exist yet’.

‘Swords Dance, Mud Bomb – accuracy ploy. Does U-Turn exist yet? Aerial Ace not optimal.’

It was followed by a dark blotch, roughly scratching something out-- not hard enough to have made its way through to the previous page, but it seemed like a near thing. Despite the strokes vehemently redacting the thought, she was able to squint hard enough to make out ‘Double battle?’

There was more, but Akari had seen enough. She nibbled lightly on the inside of her cheek, considering this. It was definitely targeted at Dialga-- there had been a focus on it since the first page-- and, after seeing Volo’s true colors that was concerning. Briefly, she wondered if he’d written this, prior to fixating on Arceus, but he’d implied that he’d been working towards that goal for far longer than [timeframe].

At the same time, though, Dialga was a focus, not the focus. She couldn’t imagine someone like Volo writing notes about the ecosystem in between his research, or taking the time to draw a foreign Pokemon for, seemingly, sentimental reasons.

Moreover, this person wasn’t fluent in Hisuian. Any time they wrote something in the local script, they had to spell it out a second time. If anything was evidence that this book wasn’t Volo’s, it was that.

She frowned, turned the page, and was mildly surprised to find the recipe for Aux Evasion. It was followed by Dire Hit, and then a more conventional list of ingredients for potions and revives. There was also the [process] for processing bugwort into a remedy, but it had a big X through it, and ‘he hated it’.

Without meaning to, Akari felt her suspicion begin to lift just a little bit more, thinking back to the abandoned bundle of flowers she’d seen. The writer listened to their Pokemon, at least, and she could definitely respect that.

The last thing she skimmed over was a basic pokeball recipe and directions. There were a surprising amount of amendments and notes to the author-- things like how to handle carving an apricorn and avoid breaking a tumblestone. Clearly they’d learned that much through trial and error.

It was punctuated by something uncharacteristic: pure, simple commentary.

‘If Emmet laughs at it, I’m throwing it right into his stupid smiling face’

---

When Akari picked the book up again, she was greeted by something akin to one of her own Pokedex entries.

‘Sneasler – Fighting/Poison. Poison Touch.’

‘Hisuian Weavile variant? Divergent evolution? Method?’

‘4x psychic weakness. 2x ground & flying. Should be particularly resistant to bug attacks. No known immunities.’

‘Physical attacker. Speedy. Similar niche to Toxicroak, but more specialized. Poison can inflict different status conditions.’ At the end of the line, in much smaller writing, they’d added ‘Though Dialga should be immune...’

‘Enjoys mushrooms, grains and beans (See recipe below)’

‘Close Combat, Dire Claw, Swords Dance, Drain Punch. Where does Rock Climb fit in?’

The next two subjects were very similar, and she didn’t bother looking too closely. The writer was really doubling down on Dialga’s fighting type weakness, it seemed, and hazarding an outline for a defensive status-inflictor. In terms of raw information, it wasn’t quite up to Galaxy Team’s standards, but the battle stratagem was unlike anything she’d ever seen in Hisui-- not in the least because there wasn’t any mention of agile or strong attacks. The amount of forethought, the plans made in advance, was interesting compared to the on-the-fly approach of balancing attack speed and power. Then again, she reasoned, the author seemed to know exactly what they were going up against, and were likely at a substantial disadvantage. Going in with as much information as possible was one of the best ways to even the playing field.

Smiling at the googly-eyed scribble the writer had added in a bit of blank space, she rested the book against her knees. It wasn’t particularly thick, and the filled pages had been in the minority, so Akari couldn’t help but wonder just how many more she had to go. She’d long since given up on any mention of the ruin she’d found the book in. Maybe it was like her house was to her-- too mundane to bother recording, even though most villagers wouldn’t know the first thing about the appliances therein.

Really, there were only two ways this could end: either the pages went unfilled because the book’s owner had given up on their endeavor and moved on from where they had, in a number of senses, been dwelling, or they’d set out to act upon their plans and never returned. Akari didn’t know them, but she hoped it was the former. It hit too close to home to think that the person who’d struggled to keep a tumblestone smooth and included a Pokemon’s favorite recipe as they studied it might have died on an expedition.

Through the door, she heard Rei’s voice.

It would have to be a mystery solved another day.

---

The writer had figured the Temple of Sinnoh out, and Akari’s heart sank.

Not the entire story behind it, by any means-- she didn’t think anyone knew that much. If even a Highlands Warden could only speculate as to the nature of the temple’s construction, she doubted there was much hope for anyone else-- excepting, perhaps, Volo.

No, the book’s owner had figured out how to summon Dialga to the temple. She didn’t know where they’d found that particular set of ingredients, but she’d have to give it a try sometime-- to see if they’d actually been onto something with the mushrooms, sootfoot root and crunchy salt. Despite herself, she had to laugh as they tried to work out how, exactly, to fold a caster fern into the satchet for a balm. None of their diagrams looked quite right, but she’d give them points for keeping at it.

Across from that, they’d created a checklist of supplies-- everything they’d painstakingly translated the recipes for, from healing items to auxiliary boosts. They had known what they were doing, she had to give them that much-- she just had her doubts that they knew everything they were getting themselves into. At the bottom of the list, there was a series of tally marks next to ‘Pokeballs’; the different distances between the marks and angles they were set at suggested the writer had been at that one for some time before their quota was met.

With a feeling milder than, but not dissimilar to, walking into Grandtree Arena to face a frenzied Kleavor, Akari turned the page.

The spread was divided into four segments, and at a glance, it seemed like it was mostly dedicated to restating the information from earlier-- finalizing moves and strategies, planning when to use the auxiliary boosts.

Then she noticed the species.

Gligar, Machoke, Tangela, Sneasler.

No. No way. Absolutely not.

Unbidden, her eyes roamed over the last [] lines.

‘I believe my safety checks have concluded, and I am as prepared as is currently possible. Though she’ll never read this, I must again offer thanks to Sneasler for acting as my partner on this multi-rail.’

She bolted upright, one hand frozen in a death grip on the book, letting its other half flop wildly around as she tore out of her house and down Floaro Main Street.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Milkshakes

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Overwhelmed when Loki saves you, you respond to his kindness with fear. Determined to apologize, you seek Loki out to thank him with a couple of milkshakes and some fries. Warnings: a tad angsty but much fluff A/N: This is actually one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. Hope you all enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

Of course it had to be during your lunch break that a supervillain attacked the city. Of course today you decided to go out to eat instead of packing something. And, of course you had to be walking by the building right as it crumbled. You started praying to any god that there may be to save you from being crushed. Though, you hadn’t actually expected one to save you.

In the moments before you would have been flattened, Loki put an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. Raising his free hand, a glimmering green force field appeared around you. The falling matter bounced off of it and landed around you, the shield offering strong protection. Of course you were thankful to be rescued, but did have to be Loki? You knew he was supposedly reformed, but so many news outlets still ran stories about how he was dangerous. A ticking time bomb. You’d never quite formed an opinion on him, and it was causing great conflict in you now. On the one hand, he looked very intimidating from this close, what with his impressive stature and horned helmet and all. But on the other, he was saving you from the actual super villain destroying the city. Perhaps if there wasn’t so much going on, you could think more clearly. Alas, your thoughts were a messy, confused jumble, leaving you fearful of the super-powered god in front of you.

“Are you alright?” he asked in his deep, smooth accent as the shield shimmered away into nothing. The god brought his arm to shield your eyes from the small pieces of debris still falling, the other one still around your waist in a protective manner. “Are you injured at all?

“I, um, uh, I- I,” you stammered, backing up. “Mhm. All good. Uhhh, thanks.”

You were certain you must be the most awkward person in history, but instead of making fun of you, Loki just looked sad. Even with the hurt behind his eyes, his arms shot out to catch you when you stumbled over the wreckage. He guided you away from the obstacles to a place where you could walk unhindered. He moved back from you as soon as he’d finished escorting you.

“You are welcome,” he finally responded. “I am sorry for frightening you. You should get somewhere safe.”

Without waiting for a reply, he left to rejoin the battle. You started retreating from the scene, steering as clear of any large structures as you could, cursing yourself the whole time. Loki had saved you, and you’d been afraid of him. What kind of nonsense was that? And you were certain he got that kind of reaction all the time, based on the way he’d looked at you and realized your bumbling actions were a result of fear. Fear of him after he’d so carefully and gently saved you.

You felt stupid and petty as you joined a throng of people being guided away from the scene. After nearly two years of working to protect the city, Loki should have gotten more praise and love than he did. You realized it now, only moments too late. Someone should tell him he was appreciated, a hero. And if no one else was going to do it, you resolved to do it yourself.

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

The meeting was dreadfully boring, but someone had to go. Seeing as all the other Avengers were busy, that someone was Loki. Besides, Stark had told him it would be good for his image to head up the restoration of the city this time round. The committee and resources were all a part of Stark Industries, of course, so Loki felt there should be some employee to take care of it instead of him. But whatever, he’d been roped into it now, and he figured that there was some merit to what Tony has said about his reputation.

Luckily, with a week having passed since the battle, great headway had been made with the repairs, and the meeting was much shorter than expected. Itching to get outside, Loki headed to the main doors.

“You don’t understand,” Loki heard someone say to the receptionist as he approached the front desk. “He saved me the other day. I have to thank him. Please?”

Loki just rolled his eyes as he pushed through the turnstile. He couldn’t even begin to count how many fans had tried this tactic to meet their favorite Avengers. Granted, no one had ever tried to see him, but he was coming to terms with it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder which of his colleagues you were trying to get through to see. Perhaps Steve, or maybe even Thor. Loki was so lost in thought it barely even registered when the voice switched from pleading with the receptionist to calling after him.  

He turned and stopped, recognizing the person jogging after him as you, who he remembered from the battle. “May I help you?” he asked in the most pleasant tone he could manage.

“Yeah. Uh, hi. I don’t know if you remember, but you saved me the other day,” you explained sheepishly. “You know, during the attack.”

“Yes, I recall.”

“Oh! Good. I just wanted to say thank you for that. For saving me, I mean. And the city.”

“I see,” the god replied, suspiciously raising an eyebrow. “Well then, you are welcome. Really, I was just doing my job, though.”

“Well, I still appreciate it.” There was a lapse in the conversation, as neither of you were really sure what to say next. “Can we go somewhere? Like for coffee or something. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Oddly enough, that made Loki distrust the situation even more. Ok, maybe you were actually a super nice person who had a guilty conscience for making him feel bad, and maybe that prompted you to come thank him properly. But that you wanted to buy him something, presumably to show your newfound appreciation? Absolutely preposterous. The only people who ever did something remotely as kind as that were his fellow Avengers, and not even all of them or particularly often. Any of the other people who openly supported him didn’t show appreciation, per se. It was more that they felt he’d done enough to redeem himself at this point, which wasn’t exactly the most thrilling phrasing either. But here you were, awkwardly shuffling your feet and asking to buy him coffee. Loki supposed he shouldn’t pass such an opportunity up. And yet, he probably was going to.

“No thank you,” he finally replied, shaking himself from the shocked, catatonic state he’d fallen into. “I do not much like coffee.”

As he walked away, he thought that would be the end of it. That perhaps you’d only been talking to him in the hopes he’d invite you to see the other Avengers, too. That maybe you’d go back to trying to wheedle your way inside at the front desk. Much to his surprise, you came hurrying after him.

“Wait,” you called. “Ok, so scratch the coffee. How about ice cream or tea or a milkshake or something? Anything really, you name it.”

Now that you were outside, he observed you again while he thought, as if hoping the sunlight would reveal your true intentions. He couldn’t find anything malicious in your expression, just some sort of anxiety. Loki must have taken too long in coming to a decision, because you started rambling.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to pressure you into it or anything, but I wanted to do something nice to say thank you and-” you cut off and bit your lip. “Is this stupid? It sounds stupid. It’s probably stupid. I’ll go now. Again, I’m really sorry to have bothered you.”

“One moment,” he said before you could make your retreat. “You said anything I want, correct?” You eagerly nodded as Loki got an idea. “Alright then. I would like a five course meal at the nicest restaurant in London, please and thank you.”

“I, um. I know I said anything but, uh...” You noticed his serious expression had turned into a sly grin. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. My apologies, but I simply could not resist,” he chuckled.

You began to laugh, too. Not in a way that made him think it was out of courtesy or pity, but an honest to goodness laugh. Briefly, he thought it one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard, before quickly shaking the idea from his mind. It was ridiculous; he hardly even knew you. But you seemed pretty adamant on showing your gratitude. Plus, you’d apologized to him, which was more than he could say for most of the people in his life.

“You know, I would usually say tea, but a milkshake actually sounds quite lovely right now,” he told you once you’d calmed down. “That is, if the offer is still open.”

“Of course it is!” you happily told him, the smile on your face growing. Not to mention you seemed much more at ease. “I actually know a great diner that’s just a short walk from here, if that works for you.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

It took approximately ten minutes to get to the restaurant. After properly introducing yourselves, you kept up a light dialogue. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly; just hesitant, as if both of you were afraid of saying the wrong things and shattering the blissful moment. Loki still couldn’t bring himself to fully trust you. Such a feeling just wasn’t in his nature, especially not when it came to someone he just met and had a considerably rocky start with. Even so, he found himself enjoying your company.

Arriving at the diner, Loki held the door open for you as you walked in. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait for a seat, the classic red stools at the bar free at this time of the afternoon. Loki swiveled the seat back and forth ever so slightly, and found himself chuckling when he caught you doing the same thing. You offered him a shy smile as a waitress handed the both of you a menu.

The God of Mischief had only ever had the pleasure of drinking a milkshake once before, a vanilla one when the team had convinced him to try it on one of their outings. He’d thoroughly enjoyed it and planned on playing it safe by ordering the same thing now. When you asked what he was getting, though, you were having none of that. After nearly five minutes of rousing debate, you’d finally talked him up to chocolate. Part of him was having so much fun with the discussion and how animated you became about the topic that he almost didn’t want to concede. But the waitress came back to take your orders, and he didn’t want to make her leave and come back again.

“Oh, and some French fries too please,” you added after ordering your favorite milkshake.

Loki shot you a perplexed look. “French fries?” he asked after the waitress moved away.

“Yeah. Please tell me you’ve heard of them before.”

“I have. I have even eaten them a few times before, believe it or not,” he answered as you turned to face him, leaning on the counter. “But are you certain they go with a milkshake?”

Your jaw dropped open. “Of course they do. Listen, Loki, you haven’t lived until you’ve dipped French fries in a milkshake. You’ll love it, I promise.”

You continued to help him expand his knowledge of Midgardian cuisine as you waited for your order to come. Once it arrived, you dipped a fry in your shake, just as you had said, trying to convince him just how delicious it truly was. The trickster skeptically picked one up and mimicked your actions, plunging it into the frothy liquid. The second it hit his tongue, his face lit up in pure delight.

“See, I told you,” you laughed.

“Indeed you did,” he said back, the corners of his eyes crinkling from how wide his smile was.

An hour and another order of fries later, the two of you finished your snack. Loki was in a better mood than he’d been all month. Honestly, he was a little sad when the bill came.

“Are you certain you do not want me to pay?” he checked as you fished out a twenty from your wallet to cover the low-cost meal. “Or we could split it, at least.”

“Loki, it’s fine,” you giggled. “This is me thanking you, remember? And, honestly, it’s me apologizing, too. I was just startled the other day and there was a lot going on. I hadn’t ever really thought about what I’d do if I met an Avenger, least of all if it happened while they were saving my life. I was overwhelmed; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself or anything.” Without really thinking about it, your hand moved to rest on top of his. It was a surprise to Loki, but a welcome one. “Because—and I can say this with absolute certainty—you’re amazing, Loki. You do so much for the city. I hope you know how appreciated you are, at least by me.”

His other large hand came to cover yours. “Thank you, darling.” He didn’t mean to say the pet name, but it just slipped out. “I cannot express how much that means to me.”

Somewhere in his heart, he wanted to tell you everything, make you privy to all his inner turmoil. But that was buried underneath years of pain and rejection, too heavy to move for someone he didn’t know all too well, no matter how connected he felt to you in this moment. So he let the urge pass over him, hoping his thanks would be sufficient enough in expressing how he felt.

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you told him, squeezing his hand. Then you stood up. “So, I guess I’ll be letting you get on with your day then. This was really nice, though. Thanks for agreeing to it.”

“You’re welcome and thank you,” he replied. “It really was.”

After waving goodbye to each other, you exited and Loki stayed where he was, picking at the last few nubs of fries left in the basket. He didn’t know exactly why he didn’t leave, too. Just that something was missing.

“Ah, young love,” the elderly waitress who had been serving you all day said to Loki as she came to collect the empty dishes. “Magical, isn’t it?”

“Love?” Loki choked out. “I am afraid you are quite mistaken. It was not even a date. I hardly even know them. I will probably never even see them again.”

“And you’re just gonna let them walk out?” she tsked. “It’s a right shame, sonny. Let me tell you, you don’t just let something like that walk out on ya.”

He looked at the door for a second in melancholic contemplation before bolting out after you. He shouted his thanks to the waitress as he pushed open the glass door, exiting out into the harsh sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, they scanned for your form before it walked out of his life forever. Spotting you, he jogged in your direction and called your name. Funny, he thought, how just earlier that day the roles had been reversed.

“Loki?” you asked, stopped on the sidewalk as he caught up to you. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“Actually, the problem is what did not happen.” He kicked a rock with his shoe, as suddenly the ground became very interesting to him. His insides were a nervous mess. Clearing his throat, he gathered his courage to continue. “See, I do not have any way of contacting you again. And it had been my sincere hope that you would want to do this again, let me take you out somewhere.”

“That sounds amazing,” you agreed, jotting down your number on an old receipt you’d found in your wallet. Smirking, you parroted back his words from earlier. “How about you take me for a five course meal in London?”

“Oh, so you have turned my own jokes against me. How very clever of you,” he laughed. “What if we just went to see a movie, instead?”

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Just text me a time and place, and I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it. As soon as I buy the tickets, I shall let you know.”

“Sounds awesome! It’s a date.”

As you parted ways, for real this time, it registered in Loki’s mind what you’d said. He hadn’t particularly been thinking about his phrasing or in what way he was asking you to hang out. But apparently you’d taken it as an invitation for a date. As Loki arrived back at the Tower and flopped onto his bed, already dreaming of your laugh, he found he was quite happy that you had.

[themanip]

late nights

SUMMARY — you and bang chan are both equally as stressed out. your solution?  sleep with each other. boom, problem solved.

PAIRING — bang chan  x  reader  WARNINGS — mentions of stress and mental health problems, unprotected sex, soft!dom chan, mentions of kinks, really soft, really cute smut basically, crying (not sexually), sad thoughts, angry and frustrated emotions, angsty GENRE — heavy angst, fwb, coming-of-age kind of, smut, romance, porn with a hint of plot WORD COUNT — 4.9k, i got carried away my bad

“How do you deal with stress?”

Chan’s question wasn’t ill intentioned by any means, and as you both sat in his studio, you pondered on whether or not to actually answer truthfully. “I mean, you’re the leader of two more trainees than I was, and navigating as a girlgroup is much more difficult than boygroups,”

“Do you want the honest answer, or the more appropriate answer?” you crossed your legs, Chan’s couch feeling quite comfortable. He stared down at you for a moment, the height of his chair offering him that leverage.

The room was quiet, the lights were dim, and the entire environment was soothing. “Well, honest, of course. No point in me asking if it’s a fib, no?”

You nodded, blowing a puff of air out of your nose thoughtfully. “Truthfully, I use sex. It allows me to physically and mentally drain myself, and I sleep really well after getting fucked. It allows me to refresh the next morning, and my stress, at least physically, is diminished.”

You didn’t look at him until you finished talking, and his face was blank. Once you two locked eyes, he sputtered out, “Oh, I—”

“This is why I offered two options, Chan,” you laughed, and at the lighten of atmosphere he giggled a bit too. “I didn’t mean to, y’know,” he stopped, and you nodded lightly. “I get it, but as of now I don’t do it much anymore. I usually just let out my anger or stress during dance routines or working out but it doesn’t work the same, and sometimes I deliver moves too harshly while dancing.”

“Why not?”

You were unsure what he was referring to, and you crinkled your eyebrows. “How come you don’t do it anymore if nothing else helps the same way?” he asked softly, his eyes swimming with genuine concern. 

“I’m a lot more conservative with my body, I just have to trust someone. It’s hard to get to know a guy without them immediately wanting to jump into a relationship. You can’t really do that in what we do, and the second I start to trust a guy things go haywire. I just really have to have a good friendship to have sex, I guess.”

The entirety of the conversation, Chan’s cheeks were turning peach. Even in the dark, dim light, you could see it. “I understand, it’s a very tangible thing. Just giving yourself to someone like that without a basic relationship, platonic or not, is important depending on how you view relationships,”

You nodded in response, and a silence fell over you two. There wasn’t much to be said, but for some reason you decided to blurt out. “If you don’t know how to deplete stress, I suggest it. Just the no strings attached part, because otherwise things get messy and stress becomes inevitable. Just try it sometime, Chan. If you don’t like it, then consider it a learning experience,” you shrugged, and Chan pursed his lips.

“I mean it doesn’t sound like a bad idea, per se. I just don’t know how I’ll casually ask someone to have sex. Most women just run off the moment I mention it, and who knows if they’re even into the same things I am? There’s just so many things to be unsure of.” His chin was now laying on his thumb, and his pointer finger was laying above his top lip. He was deep in thought. 

You stood up, which cause Chan to unexpectedly flinch, and he watched you with careful eyes. “Chris, if you ever feel like you need a de-stresser, you know where to find me. Nothing will be weird unless you make it weird. Or we can always just talk, either way, I’m here. I have to go before Sumna comes and drags me out of here, but seriously. Whatever you need, no strings attached. Nothing leaves this room,” you mentioned softly, and his eyes widened at his English name. It’s rather rare you used it, so he pondered the specific use of it in this scenario.

“Thank you,” he muttered simply, and he watched you as you walked out. Was she being serious?

Chan and you had not talked in a few days. Whether it was a crazy schedule, you embarassing yourself, or him not knowing how to approach the situation, you didn’t know. All you did know was that you missed your friend. 

You and your bandmates had a hectic schedule today, and as the leader, you’d had to sit in on a meeting with your manager and JYP’s public relations manager. Apparently, Dispatch had caught one of your members, Lanzi, out doing something with another k-pop idol. Dispatch had only obtained two pictures of it, but it was clearly legible on who they were, and what they were doing.

The cost to get those pictures thrown out was much more than JYP would have liked, so she had to sit and get chewed out. Instead of being angry at Lanzi, she became more angry at herself. She had talked to them about things of this sort, but clearly not well enough. It was her job as leader, and she failed doing so. 

After a three hour long meeting, you were absolutely exhausted, mentally at least. And now, just after that, was choreography practice. You’d just learned the choreo a few days before, so for the most part you had it down. As lead dancer, you also had to make sure everyone else in your group understood that too. 

So, thirty minutes into practice, when none of your members seemed to be latching on, you sighed. Your entire job was to simply lead, and do well. Somehow, you couldn’t manage to do that. Once more, you started the choreography, and told your girls to simply stand back and watch.

You had a slight tone, but you needed them to understand that rhythm is just as important as the real dance moves. Your entire body was covered in sweat, and you were growing more frustrated by the minute. 

The way your body moved was no longer elegant, just harsh, angry strokes of somewhat rhythmic actions. You did your best to do it just as you were shown, but the overwhelming anger and emotion in your body was just more than you could handle. 

Little did you know, next to your bandmates, stood Hyunjin and Chan. They had come to ask something, but instead found you dancing your angered heart out. All stopped and stared, and Chan could only focus on the way your hips contorted, the patterns your hips followed.

As the music stopped, you turned around, and your eyes widened at the visitors. 

“We can leave if you’re busy, Hyunjin-ah just wanted to ask if he could borrow the studio tomorrow, and I wanted a word with you, if that’s okay,” Chan asked, and all of your bandmates went silent, expecting you to take the lead of the conversation.

“Hyunjin-sunbaenim, the studio is yours whenever you need it. Let me know what time, and Chan-oppa, would you like to talk now?”

Hyunjin bowed, and gave a quick thank you before heading out of the room. “Yes, please. If you’re too busy, no worries,” and you looked at your girls and told them to head back to the dorm. You were done for today, no reason to beat a dead horse when clearly today was not a good one to get skills in. 

“Can we talk in my studio?” Chan came closer to you, almost a whisper, and you knew this was going to go one of two ways: he was going to fuck your brains out, or he was going to let you know that he did not think of you in that way, and to please never discuss things like that with him again. You don’t think you could handle either, at least not today. 

“Yeah, let me grab some other clothes,” you said softly, rubbing your forehead in anxiety. Chan quickly started to mention something, and you shut him up quick. “I don’t—”

“Chan, I’m getting new clothes because I am sweaty and tired, nothing else. I will meet you in your studio after I am changed,” you sighed, your hot knees feeling good against the cool floor of the choreography studio. Your duffle bag now wide open, you grabbed an oversized long sleeve shirt and a pair of loose jeans. 

You also reapplied deodorant and some perfume so you didn’t smell like you lived in a sewer, the amount

As your girls were long gone, you felt free to change in the studio. Your clothes quickly fell to the floor, and you were now in more comfortable apparel that is not drenched in sweat. Dreading this conversation with Chan, you swiftly collected your things and moved them to the corner to come collect after you spoke to Chan and was ready to go home. 

Guiding your way to Chan’s studio was a walk in the park. The amount of times you’d go in there to talk to him, or for him to let you hear what he’d been working on, was countless. You two had budded a beautiful friendship, and he had been somewhat of a rock. He had always been so sweet, so loving. And you’ve possibly ruined it because you couldn’t think of anything other than sex when trying to guide him through dealing with stress.

Your eyes almost welled at the thought. You couldn’t cry though, not now. So, as you stood outside of Chan’s recording studio, you held your breath for a moment and looked up, letting the tears vanish.

A soft knock sounded, your knuckles rasping at the door. The hallways were silent, and you couldn’t hear a single thing from inside Chan’s studio. Your own heartbeat pounded in your ears, and you tensed as you heard footsteps leading up to his door.

He opened the door, his face showing no clear emotions. He didn’t seem angry, but he wasn’t too happy to see you, either. His hair was clearly ran through by his hand, blonde tufts falling back towards his ears. His makeup was done to perfection, light brown tones covering his lids. 

He wore a simple outfit, a loose black hoodie and dark blue sweatpants. He’d changed from earlier, his black ripped jeans now nowhere to be seen. “Come in, you can sit anywhere,” his voice was always soft, even though he could be fuming, his tone would never soar. 

“Chan, I just want to say I’m sorry,” you muffled out, plopping down unconventionally on his couch. “I just, I don’t know why I said those things or did that,” at this point, you just didn’t want him to think differently of you. He was the closest thing you had to a mentor, and he was an amazing friend. 

If you lost him, or ruined your relationship, you don’t think you could ever forgive yourself. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest as he took a seat in his chair, staring expectedly at you. Silence followed, so you continued, unsure of what he was expecting to hear. “I just don’t like you being stressed, and the only way I know how to cope with things is kind of like that, so I figured maybe you could too, and then I offered, and I feel like I just fucked things up between us. I.. just I’m so sorry.”

At this point your eyes had clouded up, and your voice had cracked multiple times. The day you’d had just piled up, and your exhaustion was visible. Chan’s eyes immediately softened, and he felt bad. He wasn’t mad, he just didn’t know how to approach the situation. 

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, and he stood up from his chair and joined you on the couch. At this point, you’d started full on crying. “I ruined our friendship, and now I’m sitting here crying so you’re gonna feel too bad to be honest with me about what I did wrong,” you were now sniffling hard, and your chest was dense you were surprised you could breathe. 

“No, love, that’s not it, I promise,” your heart pumped blood a bit harder at his nickname for you, and he placed a warm hand on your back. “I came here to ask if you were okay,” his tone was now nothing but soft and supportive, and he continuously rubbed your back. Warmth spread throughout your entire body. 

“I heard about the meeting, and everyone kept discussing how stressed out you were today,” in the dim light once more, his eyes glowed. They were so soft, so sweet. His entire aura was just warm, loving, and nothing was more assuring. 

“No matter what happens between us, you’re my friend, and I care about you,” he smiled softly, “Nothing would change that, unless you like, stabbed me or something,” he laughed soulfully, and you laughed with him. He pulled you closer to him, your head now leaning on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Chan. I just didn’t know what to do, and today has been really shitty,” you smiled, and let your head fall even closer to his chest. His thumbs ran circles around your back, and he held you close. “It’s okay, I understand. Trust me,” a warm silence encased the entire room, and as Chan now cuddled you warmly, your face was now red at the reality of the situation.

“Do you feel a bit better?”

“Yeah, I just needed someone to remind me of how things are and to keep me grounded,” you sighed, and Chan’s thumb was now no longer rubbing your back. His hand had stilled, and all you could hear was the heartbeat from inside Chan’s chest. He was so broad, and the expanse of his torso provided a very comfortable pillow.

“I wasn’t offended, or taken back or anything when you offered, you know that, right?” Chan spoke out of nowhere, the rumbling of his chest vibrating intensely. “I wouldn’t have known, I tried my best to ignore you in case you never wanted to speak to me again,”

A small laugh came out of Chan, and his chest pushed your head a bit. “No, in fact, I think I’ve thought about it a little too much.”

You pushed your head off of him at this point, and resuming your position before he sat on the couch. You pulled your knees back up to your chest, and looked at him. “Really?”

“You said you wanted to have sex with someone you trust, and I feel the same way. It’s really hard to come by good people with good intentions, and you also happen to be beyond gorgeous. Why would I not want to?”

With cheeks now flushed red, you giggled. School-girl giggled, specifically. You had no idea how to take this compliment, but then the realization hit you. Christopher Bang just said he wants to fuck you.

His face also turned a deep scarlet, and he looked down, waiting for a reaction. “Mr. Bang, the things you say. So scandalous,” you both laughed lightly, and you hummed in response to the silence. “If we decide to ever do something, it’s important we talk about it first,” you mentioned, and now the conversation went from light-hearted to a bit more serious.

 “Of course, but in what way?”

“I don’t know, what kinds of things do you like? I can’t promise I can pertain to everything, but there’s no harm in trying. Especially if it happens more than once,” you clutched your legs, and Chan leaned forward a bit, his elbows on his knees as he stared ahead.

“Uh, well,” he laughed, and covered his hands with his face. This was the Chan you liked, who could make any situation, no matter how dark, seem light and easy-going. “It’s not really,” he started, beginning to look at you, then stopping himself, “I don’t know. I never usually talk about it like this,”

“Well, how about this: I tell you what I like, and you tell me what you’re willing to do. Just because I like it does not mean you have to do it, but if you enjoy it too, its mutual pleasure, yeah?”

Chan simply nodded, now mesmerized by you. His face completely tracked yours, and you sighed. “I have always loved your hands. I really, really like if you’d put them around my neck, if you would ever feel so kind. I really love being praised, I love being called a good girl, things like that. My favorite foreplay is just making out, I’m just a big softie, but I can take rough if that’s what you like. I’m a big pleaser, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of and get some pleasure out of this,”

Chan nodded once more, and his fingers instinctively wrapped themselves around his rings, twisting and turning. “Your turn, Channie,” you smirked, and he leaned back, a smile crowning his face. 

“Well, I really like being soft and intimate, I like any position, bonus points if I see your face,” he smiled, his cheeks burning scarlet. He clearly did not talk about these things often, moreso just played them out in the midst of a high and never spoke of it again. But he and you both knew how important communication was, so he continued.

“I have played around with being called Daddy, but I’m not sure, and if you’re not comfortable with it—”

“If I am that uncomfortable with something, I promise I’ll tell you. Besides, that’s really cute. Rolls right off the tongue, right Daddy?”

He visibily shivered, and you smiled. “I—uh, I like if you’d run your fingers through my hair, not too hard, but like soothingly, kind of? If that makes sense. I also like it if you’d verbalise when you’re, uh—”

You knew where he was going, so you leaned close to his ear and finished his sentence for him. “Gonna cum? Oh, it would be rude not to,” you laughed gently, and you saw the last of Chan’s patience snap like a rubber band. 

His hands grabbed your face sternly, yet somehow gently. “Do you want this?” he asked, the lust obvious on his face. Despite any previous conversation, he needed verbal consent to continue, and it would make him feel most okay with doing this. 

“Yes,”

The room was now silent, anticipation filling your entire body. You’d come in here crying, and you couldn’t help but hope you’d leave the same way; just a different type of crying. 

He pushed you so your back was now flush against the couch, the headrest leaning your upper torso closer to him. “Tell me to stop, and I promise I will, alright? The second you tell me to,” he was now looking you dead in the eyes, above you. Your legs were spread open, and his entire body was in the valley of your abdomen. Both of his arms were on either side of you, perching himself up. 

“Chris, just kiss me already,” you whined, and he laughed wholeheartedly, before dipping in. The first kiss was hesitant, exploring new territory. His lips tasted like vanilla chapstick, and the first few were light pecks. It took only a second before he took the initiative and added his tongue to the mixture. 

You rarely ever used tongue, most of your hookups barely even kissed, which is why none of them compared. Kissing was your weak point, it was a vulnerability. And Chan did not abuse that power once.

“Is this okay?” he mumbled against your mouth, your exchanging saliva now making more than your mouth lubricated. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned out, the amount of times he would kiss you now making you weak.

His hands dragged softly, and held themselves at your jaw, a classic sweetheart. His thumb was against your cheek so softly, the pads gracefully rubbing across the expanse of your cheekbone.

Everything about this was so domestic, so warm. His kisses were so soft, and full of love. There was no rush, no push to go any farther had you or him decided not to. His warm hands on your face made you purr on the inside, and when he pulled away, he had looked more beautiful than ever. 

You had no intention of mentioning the wetness that had gathered between your legs, until Chan was staring at you, and momentarily his eyes widened. “Shit,” he cursed, looking around rapidly. “We don’t have a condom. I’m clean and everything, but we don’t have to continue if you don’t feel comfortable,”

“I have an implant, and I’m clean too. I just want you, if you want me too.”

Chan had no other qualms about it, and he attacked your face in sloppy kisses. “Here, can we switch positions, my arm is hurting?” he asked awkwardly, and you laughed with your entire chest. It was a normal question, but the way he asked so ashamedly, as if it was something terrible. 

“Sit up straight, let me get on your lap,” you said softly, and he did as he was told. It was only then that you saw the bulge in his sweatpants, and you forgot that he actually had a male appendage, and from the looks of it, he was either girthy or long. Or both. 

As long as he knew how to use it, you’d be fine. 

He grabbed you by your hand to help maneuver you, and now your entire weight was on top of Chan. As you finally sat your hips down, he groaned. “Oh god,”

You took his face in your hands, and started kissing him again. At this point, you didn’t want him to be respectful anymore. His hands did not waver from your face, and so you took it into your own hands. Grabbing them both, so soft and calloused, and placed them as discreetly as you could, onto your hips. Moreso your ass, but Chan didn’t know your intentions. 

His hands pushed your hips forward, now rutting against his hard on. His lips and yours were now in a frenzy, drenching each other. It was still pretty slow, nothing fast paced, just more intense.

He broke the kiss, and his hands now edged at the bottom of your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asked, breathless. His lips were now swollen and puffy, and his pupils were blown wide. 

You nodded softly, no words needed to be said. He quickly hauled the oversize shirt above your head, and groaned harshly when he realized you had no bra on. His first instinct was to latch his mouth onto your nipples, sucking softly. A moan left your mouth, and with nothing to hold onto anymore, your hands found his hair. 

Still rocking back and forth, your panties were probably soaked at that point. So much foreplay had you almost throbbing, and you couldn’t wait much longer to have him inside you. 

“Chan, please,” you moaned out, and he bit down on your nipple gently. “Only since you asked so nicely,” he added, and he told you to stand up. You did so, easily willingly, yet you loved the way he spoke to you.

It was almost a request, a plea. There was no power imbalance here, simply one trying to find another. He was so gentle, in everything he did. You wanted to drown in that feeling. 

He pulled your jeans off without a hitch, and eyed your lace panties hungrily, slightly thankful you’d changed earlier this evening. His fingers grasped the sides, pulling them down your legs. You were now completely bare, and he was fully dressed. This was a problem. 

“Not fair, your turn,” you pouted, and his eyes were fixated on your naked body. It felt odd, having him see you like this, but you couldn’t complain. Your arousal was now tainting your inner thighs, and Chan could probably see it too. 

He rid himself of his hoodie and his shirt at the same time, and you finally got a full view of him shirtless. This man was absolutely ripped, and you had to hold in a gasp. His arms were lined in protruding veins, and his abs were impeccable. You worked out, but not in your wildest dreams would you ever be able to maintain that nice of a physique. 

It wasn’t until he pulled off his pants, and painstakingly after, he patiently pulled his boxers off. God, did he have a pretty cock. A bit longer than average, slightly girthy, and it made your mouth water just thinking about it. 

Your first instinct was to pop down onto your knees, but as you were on your way down, Chan grabbed you by the arm. “Not this time, please, I need you,” he whined out, almost painfully. 

As you were on top of his lap, you were careful not to let him inside you yet. You figured he could decide when to do it, and you squealed when he let one hand slide from your face, down to your throat. His fingers, covered in rings, squeezed gently. He coaxed another moan from you as he let his fingers glide down the valley of your body, and found itself on your clit.

His movements were slow, but intense. His fingers glided over your folds, picking up some of your arousal, and placed all of his attention onto your little nub. Small pinprick moans escaped your mouth, and you began to tilt your hips in an attempt to get more friction. “Fuck, you’re so wet,”

Some noise semblant to a mew tried to leave your mouth, but his fingers tangled themselves around your neck further, leaving the sound trapped in your throat. “Are you ready? Or do we need to get you a bit more warmed up?” he asked softly, his mouth now next to you ear. His voice was dark, and husky.

“God, I just need you inside me,” you whined, and his hand let up on your neck, and he grabbed his cock harshly. He pumped it a few times, and spread your lips, and lined you up.

“Beg,” he said simply, and even if you tried to sink down, he now placed a hand on top of your hips harshly. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. “W—what?” you asked, breathless. 

“Beg, I want to hear you beg for me to fuck you,” he repeated himself, and looked down at you mischeviously. You two were face to face, and his cock was still in his hands, and your lips spread wide open for him to see. “Fuck, please,” you whined, and to no avail, he didn’t budge, “please, daddy, I just wanna feel good,”

As soon as the name sounded from your mouth, he pushed inside of you. The stretch was amazing, it was slightly painful, but it felt like nothing on this earth could amount. His entire cock filled you out nicely, and the lewd sound of him smacking against you was filling the room.

His hands laid at your hips now, piling into you like his life depended on it. His balls were smacking against your ass, and the harsh thrusts stimulated your clit. Everything was so intense, the way he filled you so deeply, you could feel him in places you didn’t know he could reach, and you felt like you’d burst apart the seams. 

Shameless moans spilled from your mouth, and Chan was in your ear, grunting like a man starved. “Such a good girl, fuck, for me,” his groans were so animalistic, and the way his hands would hold you steady.

His fingers traveled down to toy with your clit, and he never stopped fucking you. Your fingers started to tangle within his hair, and his lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking, finding anything to latch onto. 

The second his fingers started rubbing your clit numbly, you knew that you were going to cum soon. Everything he did just felt so good, you were just a hole the second he started fucking you.

“I—I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum,” you breathed out heavily, and your legs started shaking. “Please, can I—please cum?”

“Yes, cum for me,” he breathed out in a husky tone, and it wasn’t long until you felt your thighs start to involuntarily shake, and the feeling inside your abdomen welling up. “I’m so—” you were cut off by your orgasm rushing over you, Chan’s fingers never stopped stimulating your clit.

You moaned out harshly, slumping towards him, unable to control yourself as one of the most harsh orgasms you’ve ever had washed over you. Your entire body started to seize, and you clenched around him harshly. He continued to fuck into you, sucking into your neck, and he starting fucking into you faster. He was definitely close, “Where-”

You cut him off, still under the shock of your orgasm, “inside me, please,” you begged, and he fucked into you once more, even harder. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,”

He lived up to his promise, as less than a few seconds later, his warm cum spurted inside of you, and he still rutted his hips, begging for more friction. He stroked into you a few more times, now drained of energy. He placed a soft kiss onto your neck, and whispered, “Thank you.”

You got up, and put your shirt back on over yourself, and Chan pulled his boxers and sweatpants on once more. A thought rose over you on whether to leave or not, but you knew Chan would be a skinship type of guy. He would probably have a drop, and not be used to just casual hookups like this.

“Do you want me to stay?” you asked softly, and a large part of you hoped he would say yes.

“Please.”

[shuahoonie]

out of love [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 

SUMMARY: being close friends with your ex is fine, right? even if your love for them was unparalleled among others. even if you were still in the process of moving on from them. even if you know they’re happy with someone else. even if you have no clue whether they loved you like you loved them. 

WARNINGS: foul language, so much angst, it starts ok at first then goes downhill from there. i literally write things on the go so i don’t know if this will have fluff at some point 

(if it does and i didn’t state it here, send me a cute photo of tom and a message of: ok wow she pulled thru 🤪; and if it doesn’t have fluff, send me a meme and a message of: miss girl i simply cannot today ✋😃)  

WORD COUNT: 5.6k 

A/N: hello! tonight, we are going to be sad!!! i know i usually like to write about all things fluff, but this?? this is just for me because i am having one of those episodes. i just need to feel something again aside from the stress of writing 3 academic papers per week lmao. i’m def not expecting people to like this type of vibe but yannoe. i apologize in advance. 

this is inspired by that one episode from new girl (season 6 x ep 16)

gif credits: @thollandgifs​ 

vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form | part two - pandemonium ​​

“You know, you can still live with us right?” Your friend Maia commented as she placed the box, labelled “fine china that mom gave me but will i ever use them?”, on the kitchen island. 

“I know,” You murmured dropping the heavy case of pots and pans on the floor. “But maybe living alone will be good for me.” You replied, forcing a smile. “Besides, I don’t want to int—“

“Hey, Y/N, where do you want this?” Harrison asked as he held out a box that’s labelled with “books that my grandpa passed on. HANDLE WITH CARE!” 

“Oh, just set it down on the living room—“ before you could even finish, Harrison dropped the box on the floor as if it was nothing. “Harrison!” You hissed, as you quickly rushed to check on the box. 

“Y/N, babe, they’re just books. Surely they can withstand any amount of pressure, yeah?” Haz tried to reassure you. 

“Haz, those books are from my grandpa—which I’m sure he got from his grandpa.” You sighed. “They’re really old and fragile, so I just want them to be in a well enough condition to stand in my bookcase.” 

“‘m sorry,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just, why do you have to move out?” Harrison asked, frustrated at the whole thing. 

“Like I told Maia, maybe having my own place will be good for me.” You replied calmly, as you neatly put the box filled with your grandpa’s books in the corner room—the initial place where you want to build your bookcase. “It’s been a while since I’ve lived on my own.” 

“Yeah,” Harrison acknowledged “But there’s absolutely no reason for you to move out. You can’t possibly leave me with her!” He pointed at Maia who let out an audible gasp. Harrison was being dramatic of course.  

“Haz—“ You were trying to fight off a laugh. “You two are my constants and if I became dependant on having you two at my convenience, it’s going to be a huge problem.” 

“In my opinion, I don’t see it as a problem.” Maia pointed out childishly. You shook your head in disbelief. You had to move out because you miss having a place to yourself— a place where you can be at your complete worst and you don’t have to think about your friends worrying about you. 

Besides, moving out means you don’t have to see Tom that often and that was a bonus in your book. It wasn’t a sour breakup per se, it’s just really difficult to feel happy for your ex when he practically showcases how different he is now with his girlfriend. 

You prided yourself as a mature and well-rounded person who could be complete friends with her ex as if that’s normal. You could only keep the façade for so long. 

Four months. It’s been four months since you and Tom broke up. You lived with Maia soon after the breakup and that enough was a blessing. Maia couldn’t bear to handle the fact that you would be alone at a time like this. Harrison usually crashes at Maia’s so he was bound to move in with you two. In fact, he was always there more often than you. 

That was the point where you were convinced that Harrison liked Maia and that Maia liked Harrison.

Conveniently, you and Tom never ‘officially’ moved in together so you could avoid him freely at all costs.

Of course, that was eventually going to end soon. You and Tom were in the same friend group so you were bound to see each other, much to your dismay. You couldn’t exactly make Harrison and Maia pick friends because it’s not fair for anyone. 

You were all friends before you and Tom decided to date. Maybe that’s why people say to never date a friend—especially if they’re near and dear. 

You were coming back from work when you found people in the living room, and as if the universe really wanted to test you, it was the least likely people you’d expect to see. 

“Y/N!” Maia’s voice was pure panic. “I didn’t know you’d be home this early.” 

Your eyes quickly flickered between the two people standing across you before you diverted your attention to Maia. “Uh—yeah. There wasn’t really much to do in the office so I came home early.” 

Maia turned to Harrison who was equally lost on how to handle the situation. I mean, who wouldn’t?! What were you supposed to do when your friend drops in unannounced with their new girlfriend and to makes the matters worse, your other friend—whom your friend dated before— decides to come home early? 

You didn’t know how what kind of spirit took over your body that prompted you to extend your hand to the girl sitting beside your ex and say: “Hello, I’m Y/N.” 

The girl looked surprised but shook your hand in return. “Nadine,” Nadine smiled slyly “I—um, I’m Tom’s girlfriend.” 

Tom looked mildly uncomfortable but you chose to ignore it. You were becoming good at that—ignoring Tom. 

You returned the smile at Nadine. You could feel the burning stares from your friends, mostly Maia. You cleared your throat and said, “I’ll just be in my room to finish the papers I need to send to my editor if you’ll excuse me.” 

Before you left completely, you gave Nadine another smile and said, “It’s nice to meet you again, Nadine.”

You don’t remember how you got to your room but that was the least of your concern. You were just undeniably overwhelmed with what just happened that you didn’t even notice that there was a knock on your door. 

When you opened the door, it was the last person you expected to see standing in your doorframe. 

“Can we talk?” Tom asked in almost a whisper. 

You gave him a half shrug and opened the door slightly wider for him. 

“We’re okay, right?” He asked, looking at you in the eye. 

At this point, you convinced yourself that you were numb. You never talked about the breakup. You never overtly said anything about what you felt. You felt empty. You convinced yourself that you were empty. 

You stared back at Tom and without missing a beat, you replied “Of course. Why shouldn’t we?” 

“Just admit that you two will miss me,” You teased, grabbing another box from Maia. 

“Only if you admit that you’re moving out for an entirely different reason,” Maia whispered carefully as her eyes flickered towards Tom who was also helping with your move out. 

You pressed your lips together and acted like he wasn’t even there. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, you know, like a liar. 

You weren’t a vocal person. The idea of talking about your feelings was really difficult for you so you try your best to avoid it. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’d go to extreme lengths to avoid confrontation.

Obviously, it wasn’t healthy. You would always distance yourself whenever you feel emotionally exhausted, and you really meant that distance. It wasn’t bad at first—maybe a day or two was all you needed before you felt comfortable enough to be around people again. 

Then it became worse when you were in university. You were beyond unreachable. Aside from being emotionally exhausted, you were mentally drained too. You were always buried with papers and readings which was unavoidable but it took a huge toll on you. So whenever you get a chance to get a break, you completely shut off from people. 

Your friends definitely noticed it and they tried their best to help. 

Tom was among the people who definitely went out of their way to help you. He would always drop by at your dorm with food or coffee—he would literally just drop them off, most of the time. He would leave small notes that up to this day, you still kept and tucked away in a box. 

Both Maia and Harrison followed Tom’s approach. They would all alternate on who’s dropping what and when. Some days, Maia would drop off a new skincare product she’s been using or a lovely box of macarons from your favourite patisserie. 

On other days, Harrison would drop off some of his home-cooked meals or maybe a book he saw from a local bookstore—a book that reminded him of you.

Tom was very persistent though. He would sometimes wait out on the hall, just so he could see you and reassure himself (and your friends) that you were okay. 

You found it taxing at first—you would often try your best to match the energy from your friends, which only left you exhausted at the end of the day. You wanted space and you clearly weren’t getting that from Tom. You did acknowledge that he only did it out of pure concern. 

You often wondered why he did that, staying, but you didn’t ask him. You never did.

Maybe you were afraid that you’d come off as rude or that you’d seem ungrateful for dismissing someone when they’ve clearly taken the time off their day just to check on you. 

However, every time you’d open that door, it always seemed that Tom would breathe a huge sigh of relief when you lock eyes. Even if it was just for a quick second. You wondered about that too.

Tom wasn’t really being intrusive. Most of the time, he will leave a few minutes after you’d open the door to get the things your friends would drop off. You’d always ask him if he wants to stay inside for a bit, but he’d always decline.

Except for that one time, though. That one time that you knew you were going to fall in love.

It was the week of midterms and deadlines. You were knee-deep with papers from different classes that demanded to be finished that week, one of which was a research paper that practically tied you to your laptop and made you consume an unhealthy amount of caffeine. 

It wasn’t until 2 am when you were about to go on a quick drive to a McDonald’s but saw Tom dozed off in the hallway, his back pressed against the wall.

“Tom,” You shook him gently, trying not to startle him. “Tom, wake up.”

His eyes slowly fluttered open, seemingly disoriented at first but would soon fall into the warm familiarity that your face always brings. 

“Why are you sleeping in the hall?” You asked quietly, careful not to make a fuss. The walls in your dorm were very thin and you learned that the hard way. You’d think they’d put a disclaimer about that in the lease when you’re housing a bunch of university students with raging sex drives. 

It took Tom a minute to fully comprehend the question, seeing that the bright fluorescent light was being harsh on him and that he’s generally like that when being jolted awake. 

“Oh, erm, I—” Tom was finding the right words to use. He can’t exactly exclaim ‘I’ve been worried sick about you!’ out of nowhere. Instead he said, “I was waiting for you to open the door, just to see if you’re alright.” 

“All night?”

Tom scratched the back of his neck. “It seemed that way, yeah.” He muttered sheepishly. 

You were dumbfounded. Surely this was the first time someone actually fell asleep outside your door, waiting for you to come out. It was sweet but highly unnecessary. 

“I was just about to head out and get some McDonald’s, do you wanna come with?” You asked, giving him a hand to hoist himself up. 

“I should get going—“ 

“Have you eaten yet?” You asked cutting him off, taking Tom by surprise. He shook his head no. “Then you should really come.” You said, jingling your car keys in front of him.

Tom was debating whether or not to go with you. It’s been a while since you hung out, but that was the same case for everyone. None of your friends have properly hung out with you ever since the semester started. 

Tom should say yes, right? 

“Let’s go, Tommy,” You said as you grabbed his hand and dragged him across the hall. “I’ve been staring at my laptop all day and I really need some unhealthy food to balance out the concerning amount of caffeine I’ve consumed.” 

“Is that why you’re practically bouncing off the walls?” Tom asked amused, trying to keep up with your pace with your hand holding his. 

“Totally,” You grinned at him. “I need to wear out the caffeine or else, I’d have to skip my morning class again.” 

“French?” 

You nodded. “They’re counting the amount of absences in that class and I really need to keep my shit together.” 

“‘m not exactly sure why you took that as an elective,” Tom commented, properly wrapping his hand around yours with fingers interlacing each other.  

You tried to ignore it, you really did, but the warm feeling that settled around your stomach drove you crazy. 

“Why not? I think it’s cool to learn another language.” You nudged him playfully which he gladly returned. 

“I know and trust me, I’m in awe that you’re learning another language! erm—I guess it’s just I feel like you’re overworking yourself too much.” Tom pointed out softly, hoping he didn’t come off as rude or intrusive. 

“Eh, I don’t mind.” You replied “It’s what drives me to keep going and for me that’s more than enough. Even if it leaves me little to no sleep, even if it takes too much of my time—it’s enough reason for me to do it.” 

Tom stared at you in admiration as soon as those words slipped out your mouth and you didn’t even notice it. You were walking towards the student parking lot, consumed by the twinkling lights from the neighbouring lanes near campus. 

Maybe if you weren’t busy consuming the quiet campus grounds, you’d notice the very first time Tom fell in love with you. 

“Besides, I know a phrase in french now.”

“Hm—and what’s that, then?” 

“Je ne suis pas l’escargot” 

“L’escargot? Isn’t that—“ 

“I am not a snail,” You giggled. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Tom laughed, “I supposed so.” 

Maybe if you weren’t so afraid of confrontation, you’d have an idea of when Tom knew that you were his person.

See, the thing is— you needed to face reality sooner or later and both your friends could see right through it. 

“Honestly, Y/N, how on earth can your box of art materials be this heavy—” Tom appeared in front of the door frame, heaving as he carried the box from two flights of stairs. 

You quickly averted your gaze from Maia, who was staring at you expectantly, and cleared your throat. “You can just set them by the door, Tom. I don’t know where to put them yet.” You said as you tried your best to act normal. 

“You sure? They’re a tad heavy and I don’t want you to strain yourself.” Tom asked with furrowed brows. 

All you could do was nod. The last thing you wanted was Tom’s focused attention on you.

“If you say so,” Tom sighed in defeat “I’m going to grab more boxes—Baby, you don’t have to carry that!” Tom was quick to disappear as he urgently dashed towards his girlfriend, Nadine. 

“Oh, but I want to help, Tommy.” You heard Nadine say sweetly, assuming she was also pouting. 

You could see Maia roll her eyes, urging you to give her a nudge and a taunting look. “Maia,” you called her out, silently pleading her to stop. 

Maia settled down but she wasn’t exactly calm about it either. “I’m still not sure why she’s here.” She murmured. You and Harrison were close enough that you can hear her rambles—which was expected from her anyway. 

Maia and Nadine go way back—like toddlers and playgrounds kind of way. Though that sounds figuratively adorable in a way, Maia and Nadine never got along. 

Nadine used to date Maia’s brother, which already caused Maia a great demise. As one could expect, the relationship didn’t end well. She left him out of nowhere, saying she needs to find herself—or something along those lines. 

A week after the breakup, what Nadine found was herself in the arms of another man. Of course, Maia’s brother was devastated—He truly loved Nadine. Maia had to be the pillar that her brother leaned on. It took Maia a great amount of time to help her brother pick up the pieces that Nadine left. 

So yeah—Maia wasn’t thrilled when she heard that Tom was Nadine’s new boyfriend. 

“She offered to help, Mai,” You whispered “Who am I to deny help?” 

Maia looked at you as if you managed to empty your head while you were moving in between flats. “She’s been after me ever since we were kids. She’s also the reason why it took my brother months to get out of bed,” Maia deadpanned “and She’s Tom’s new girlfriend. Remember Tom? Your ex?” She said rather loudly.

You gave her a tiny pinch on her arm, causing her to yelp. “Maia, are you nuts?!”

Harrison left the two of you so he could grab more boxes, while you and Maia bickered silently amongst each other. 

“You are thicker than I thought—Seriously, Y/N. Quit pinching me!” Maia aggressively rubbed her arm. 

“They’re going to hear you!” You hissed. “The last thing I want is for those two to get involved.” 

“Babe, they’re already involved. Tom, especially.” Maia remarked. “I see the way you look at Tom. I also see the pain you feel whenever he’s with she who must not be named.” 

“I’m not doing this Maia,” you mumbled as you walked past her. Your objective was now to help Harrison with the remaining boxes. Your objective was anything but to talk about you and Tom. 

“You have to face it sooner or later, Y/N.” Maia called out “I’m not leaving you or this apartment until you tell me what really happened.” 

“What’s going on?” Harrison asked as he entered the apartment, carrying three sets of boxes. You grabbed one from him and actively avoided his question. 

Before Maia could reply, Tom and Nadine appeared on the doorframe, with Nadine practically glued to Tom. 

“Harrison got the last remaining boxes so we’re heading off now,” Tom announced as Nadine’s face painted with clear desperation to get out of your place. “Are we still going bowling tonight?” Tom asked before Nadine whispered something in Tom’s ear and left.

“I’m actually exhausted so I’ll pass,” You answered, obviously avoiding spending time with your ex and his current girlfriend. You’re not that pathetic. 

“Same might actually have to just drink the night away,” Maia responded with a grin.

“Well, there’s no way I’m third-wheeling so I’m good,” Harrison said as he threw himself towards the plush teal couch that you snagged from a flea market. 

For the tiniest second, Tom seemed disappointed but gave a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, maybe we can reschedule our bowling night, then?” He asked. “It’s not as fun to go bowling with just the two people.” 

You, Harrison, and Maia all shared a look. You weren’t on board with bowling-night, to begin with, but you didn’t want Tom to feel as if you were avoiding him—which you were but no one needs to know that. 

Maia looked at you, waiting for an answer because god knows she will solely depend on her decision based on yours. You don’t even have an answer, to begin with. 

“What are you two supposed to do then?” Harrison asked Tom. Thank god for Harrison.

“I might take Nadine to this poetry jam event that she’s been dying to go to” Tom replied with a soft voice. 

“A poetry night?” Maia almost wanted to laugh “You don’t even have the slightest interest in literature, Tom.” Maia didn’t mean to offend him or maybe she did? She wasn’t completely fond of Tom ever since you and Tom broke up—well, she wasn’t fond of the idea that Tom was dating her ‘arch nemesis’, but Tom was her friend and so were you. 

“I know that, Mai.” Tom rolled his eyes “but Nadine likes it and I’ll do everything to make her happy.” That left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“If you say so,” Maia murmured before she took a quick look at you. She looked like she wants to give you the biggest hug. But you held a stoic look on your face—something that you picked up because you were afraid of confrontation. 

“I’m serious,” Tom defended, lost in his feelings, which only irked Maia even more. 

“I know, I heard you— we heard you,” Maia replied, her face showing only one emotion: annoyed. “God, read the room,” Maia grumbled to herself. Harrison had to reach for her hand, urging her to calm down. 

“I really love her,” Tom whispered. That left a slap in the face. 

It was a cold Saturday afternoon and it has been raining almost all day. It was one of the rare weekends that you weren’t really occupied to do anything other than to lay on your couch and consume a copious amount of entertainment.

Despite the spitting rain, you actually want to head out this time. Being confined to your desk and the university was torture especially since you couldn’t do anything about it—the four of you were graduating this year, no one could afford to slack off. 

You and Tom were cuddled against the sofa— Tom was busy watching something on TV while you were busy scrolling on your phone. 

“Hey, Tom?” 

“Yes, my sweet girl?” 

“Do you want to go downtown?” You asked, looking at your phone as you read the details of an event happening this weekend.

“Right now?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “There’s a book fair being held at the local theatre.” You rested your chin on top of his chest and gave him a pout. You were getting sick of being cooped up between your study table and the library. This book fair was a change of scenery and it’s definitely right up your alley.

“But it’s raining, darling” Tom tried to say in the softest way possible. It’s not exactly up in Tom’s interests though.

“I know,” You sighed “I guess I’m just getting sick of this place.”

“You’re getting sick of me?” Tom asked with a huge pout. He was kidding of course. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you, Tom.” You chuckled softly. 

“Okay,” He hummed, pulling you closer to him—if that was even possible. “Then can we stay like this for a while?” 

“Anything for you, angel.” You whispered as you closed the details about the local book fair. Maybe next time. 

Soon after Tom left, Maia pulled you to her side and asked, “You okay, babe?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You feigned innocence. It was clear as day that you weren’t okay, your friends knew that. 

Knowing that you weren’t going to budge, Maia walked towards the kitchen and brought out a bottle of wine from the fridge. 

Harrison raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “When did you manage to put that in the fridge?” All of you had been occupied with grabbing boxes that there was no way that Maia had the time to put wine in the fridge, let alone obtain them from somewhere.

“It was supposed to be a celebratory drink for Y/N’s new place,” Maia replied as she set the wine and three various mugs on the coffee table. “Obviously, that’s not happening now.” Drinking wine using the oddly designed mugs you collected over the years was a cry for help. 

“It’s 4 pm, Mai.” You pointed out as you stared at the white LED clock that you bought off Amazon—another impulse purchase enabled from scrolling on Pinterest for way too long. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.” 

“Oh please,” Maia snorted “If there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s drinking with little to no food consumption.” 

“And if there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s cancelling all of my plans for the entire day because I have to tend your hungover-self, Mai,” Harrison remarked as he grabbed the bottle and placed it back on the fridge. “I’m ordering food and no one’s drinking until everyone has finished a meal.” 

You heard Maia mutter a string of curses but most especially the part that she said, “This is not the version of daddy that I envisioned Harrison to be.” 

All of a sudden Maia’s idea of binge drinking doesn’t seem like a bad idea, you thought. 

Turns out Harrison had no intention of letting any of you drink. He was pretty adamant about not having to babysit two drunk messes in one night. 

“As if babysitting one isn’t enough,” You recalled Harrison say. He was obviously pertaining to Maia, in which she just huffed the entire time. You often wondered if Maia and Harrison noticed the obvious tension between them, because personally you found it endearing. It was no question that they were meant for each other. 

“Y/N, you still haven’t told us whatever happened between you and Tom.” Maia suddenly pointed out. You, Maia, and Harrison were still in the living room, silently watching TV. 

You were actively avoiding this conversation for the longest time as you haven’t told anyone about it, and based by the curious faces of your friends, you figured that Tom didn’t tell anyone about it either. You’re still not sure whether that’s a relief or not.  

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You mumbled. It’s not like you were lying, there really was barely anything to talk about. Heck—You and Tom never got to talk about it properly either. 

“We see the way you look at him, Y/N.” Harrison replied softly. “I think there is something.” 

“Look—” Maia sat up properly “I know you’re not really vocal about your feelings, but the fact that you’ve never talked nor showed any emotion about your breakup terrifies me, babe.” Maia’s tone was laced with concern. 

“I remember the day you told us about it too,” Harrison couldn’t hide his concern too “We were having brunch together at our usual diner and half-way through our meal, you promptly said “We broke up” when Maia asked where Tom was,” Harrison recalled it like it was a fever dream. He and Maia had already expected that you weren’t going to tell them about the breakup when it just happened. However, it baffles them that it’s been over a year since you and Tom broke up, and not one word has been said about it. 

It was silent for a while, except for Criminal Minds that was playing on the TV. You blankly stared at the screen, hoping that you’d catch whatever the agents were saying. It was impossible, especially when all your mind could focus on was the recollection of the day Tom knocked on your door at 1 am to breakup.  

You were relatively busy that day from volunteer work, so you haven’t seen any of your friends the entire day—or Tom for that matter. Actually, you haven’t seen Tom in a few days. He would send texts periodically throughout the day but they were always short and most of the time, you always forget to reply. 

You figured Tom was busy with his own thing and both of you established early on in your relationship that texting—or lack thereof— shouldn’t account to your relationship, especially since both of you are equally bad at it. 

You didn’t think any of it since you were bound to see your boyfriend and your friends tomorrow for brunch anyway. He will have your undivided attention by then. 

So imagine your surprise when you heard a soft knock from your door at 1 am, only to find Tom in disarray. His eyes were bloodshot red, tears falling down his face. His messy curls were masked under the hood from his jumper. 

At first you were in panic, you thought that something terrible had happened to any of your friends—his family even. 

But as soon as Tom dropped to his knees and whispered, “I’m sorry,” you had a clear idea what was bound to happen next. 

It’s been silent for a while. The door was still open and Tom sat out in the hall with his back leaning against your wall. You did the same thing except you were on the other side of the wall that Tom was leaning on. 

You two were close enough to the door frame that you could hear each other, actually facing each other was a whole other thing. Tears kept streaming down your face as you kept your eyes closed and rested your head against the wall. 

At some point in your relationship, you prepared yourself in case this happened— that you would accept whatever happens between you and Tom. You didn’t exactly anticipate that it would happen so soon. 

“Was there someone else?” You asked quietly. It was the first time you spoke after Tom dropped to his knees. You hoped there wasn’t. In fact, you silently begged to yourself that there wasn’t someone else, because you knew that you couldn’t handle that. 

“No, no—of course not.” Tom immediately answers.”I could never do that to you.” 

It was silent again. You were starting to feel numb—you tried your best to gather your thoughts and forced words out of your mouth, but you couldn’t. 

“Are we not worth fighting anymore?” You practically whispered. It was a gamble— you weren’t exactly sure if Tom had heard it and you don’t have enough strength to ask it again. 

“Y/N,” Tom sniffled. “You can’t say that.” He placed his hand on top of yours. You had your hand resting on the floor and you didn’t exactly notice that it served as an invitation for Tom hold it again. 

You love Tom with all your heart. He kept dismissing it but Tom made you a better person. He made you feel like love can be expressed through different forms of things—not just words.

You loved him by exclusively making time for him. You went on museum dates where he would make cheesy remarks, saying that you’re the most remarkable piece of art in the entire place. You went on dates to watch football games—you never understood it but Tom was happy, so you were happy.

You loved him through your touch. You would often massage his back because he had been tirelessly working himself to the core. He didn’t ask for it but you knew it would make him feel better. Your touch didn’t have to be intimate—though you expressed it through that way too

You loved him through mindless actions. Almost every time you would stop by at the local cafe to grab yourself some coffee, you would always recite Tom’s favourite order on autopilot. 

You loved him through silence. Study dates were gems for you. Even if you didn’t talk for the entirety of it and even if you were the only one who studied for the most part and Tom was just playing on his phone, having Tom beside you was enough.

You loved him so much that it pains you to think that maybe you weren’t enough for him. 

“I don’t think I can fight for someone who doesn’t even want to,” You muttered bitterly. “Just answer the question, Tom.” 

He didn’t answer. All you could hear were the silent sobs that you two were trying to hold back. At this point, you knew you wouldn’t look at Tom. Your heart wouldn’t take it—it will crush you. 

“Are you not happy anymore?” Your voice cracked as you broke into a sob.

“Y/N—“ Tom squeezed your hand even more. You’re going to miss it, but you had to let go. 

“Tom, if I’m standing in the way of your happiness then we should end this.” You cleared your throat and pulled your hand away. There’s a ghostly feeling that still lingered from Tom’s touch. 

“Please, Y/N, let me explain—“ 

“It’s okay, Tom.” You whispered. “I understand.” 

“You know I love you, Y/N.” 

“I love you too, Tom.” 

“But—“ 

“But maybe it’s best if we end it, I know. I got it.” You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from crying. “Maybe it’s better if we stayed as friends.” Maybe it’s better to realize that whatever you and Tom had were too good to be true—that your love will never compare to the love he deserves. 

“Do you want the truth?” You asked your friends, with tears forming in your eyes. You can’t even decipher how they looked at you because of the tears clouding your vision. 

Were they looking at you in pity? Empathy? Sadness? 

“The truth is—I’m mad.” You gritted the words through your teeth. This was the first time your friends had seen you like this. All of the pent-up sadness, aggression, and hurt you felt was starting to get the best of you. 

“I’m angry. I’m hurt.” You snarled, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I’m angry at the fact that I can’t seem to be genuinely happy for Tom. I’m hurt at the idea he seems to be a better boyfriend for Nadine, that he constantly makes an effort for her.”

“I don’t even know if he even loved me the way that I loved him,” Your voice became quiet “and it’s selfish for me to think that way because I never fought for it—for us. That’s enough reason to keep me up at night.” 

That’s enough reason for you to wonder if you’ll be capable of loving someone so deeply again. 

PERMANENT TAGLIST: 

@quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom @tabi-toast​ 

[heyiwrotesomethings]

The Perfect Pet

Shinobu Kochou x They/Them Reader AU

A/N: This could be considered a part two to You Cat to be Kitten Me, but you could totally read this without having read the other. I’ll just link the other fic in case you’re interested (LINK). Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 3,454

Shinobu knew when she had let herself be dragged to the animal shelter by (Y/n) that it wasn’t going to be a simple visit. ‘Just to look,’ they had promised, but now, here Shinobu was watching (Y/n) stare up at her from their crouched position on the floor as they rubbed the puppy’s belly with hopeful eyes.

“No.” Shinobu said, not unkindly.

“I didn’t even say anything yet.” (Y/n) pouted in return, scratching the soft puppy’s furry neck.

“It’s written all over your face. We are not getting a dog, (Y/n).” Shinobu hated to tell them no, but she really couldn’t stand such furry animals.

“How about a cat?” (Y/n) asked, looking just as hopeful.

“No.”

“A bunny.”

“No.”

“A ferret.”

“No.”

“A—“

“(Y/n), we’ve talked about this. I’m not living under the same roof as some slobbery, wiggly, furry beast. If you want to play with an animal so badly, you can always visit Mitsuri’s cat, or her new rabbit too for that matter. Is that what brought this on?”

“A little,” (Y/n) stood up, forgoing eye contact with Shinobu to scan the rows of animals.

“A little, hm?” Shinobu crossed her arms, “and whatever else could possibly be at play?”

“It’s nothing,” (Y/n) shook their head, “want to grab lunch now?”

Shinobu tilted her head and gave (Y/n) a questioning look. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t nothing. Still, she wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this stuffy room and wash her hands. She could question them about it later.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.” She smiled, looping (Y/n)’s arm with her own.

They waved at the volunteers and thanked them before heading out of the shelter and back to their car. They drove to one of their favorite spots with outdoor seating that overlooked the river, talking casually and laughing together while they waited for their food to arrive.

“You remember I have been invited to be a guest speaker at Kyoto University next week, right?” Shinobu had asked between bites.

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing is wrong per se, I was also asked just recently if I could stay a few days more to oversee a new experiment. You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind, dear. I love how passionate you get about new projects. I hope you have fun.” (Y/n) smiled, though something seemed a bit forced about it from Shinobu’s perspective.

“Are you sure? I haven’t committed to it yet.” Shinobu tested.

“I’m sure, really. Why are you giving me that look?”

“What look?”

“The worried, suspicious kind of look.”

“It’s just that you have seemed kind of out of it since we left the animal shelter. You said it was nothing, but I’m not quite sure that’s true.”

“Shinobu, it’s fine, really,” (Y/n) assured as they paid for the meal, “do you want to go on the river walk trail before we head home or...?”

“What I’d really like to do is find out what’s bothering you.” Shinobu grumbled. Nevertheless, she took (Y/n) by the hand and led them down the path.

Plenty of people were out, enjoying the warmth the sun had to offer. Of course that meant a lot of people were out with their dogs as well. Shinobu took to using (Y/n) as a barrier whenever a dog veered too close to her, sniffing them with wagging tails. (Y/n) was all too happy to intercept the furry canines that they came across.

“This path should really be wider...” Shinobu would mumble, tugging (Y/n) along so they wouldn’t dwell for long.

“We’re almost back to the car. You’ll be okay, I’ll protect you.” (Y/n) teased, staring at Shinobu adoringly. Their hand was squeezed tightly while someone with a big St Bernard passed them by, its tail brushed against Shinobu’s thigh, making her shudder.

Shinobu heaved a huge sigh of relief when they got back into the car. As (Y/n) drove, Shinobu rolled down the window to send any little hair she found on her pants flying out on the wind.

“So, today was fun, right?” (Y/n) asked tentatively while taking the last turn to their house.

“Today was, something.” Shinobu shrugged. Yet she smiled sweetly and patted (Y/n)’s leg. “But any day I get to spend with you is a good day.”

“Aww, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple made the safe return to their house and lazed about for the rest of the day. When dinner came around they cooked together, spinning, teasing and brimming with cheer all the while. It was after they had gotten ready for bed and (Y/n) flopped into the covers beside Shinobu that the doctor decided to try her luck again.

“So what was on your mind today?” Shinobu asked while she turned on her side to observe her partner.

“You’re still on that?” (Y/n) poked Shinobu in the ribs, “let it go.”

“No, I want to know what’s wrong. I’m leaving for Kyoto soon and I want to get this all sorted out so it doesn’t fester while we’re apart. No matter how small a matter you think it is, anything that concerns you matters to me.” Shinobu spoke seriously.

(Y/n) was ready to deny Shinobu again up until she loomed above them on the bed with such stern eyes.

“I just miss you, you know. I guess I get kind of lonely when you’re away.” (Y/n) admitted.

“I miss you too. We always find time to text and facetime, that helps doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. The house though, it just feels empty without you. Of course I’ve got work to do too, but when I’m done and you’re not around, I just feel kind of sad.”

“You could always invite my sisters over, you all get along so well and Mitsuri and Iguro or any of our other friends and family.” Shinobu suggested, mildly upset with herself for not noticing sooner.

“I have before, but I can’t commandeer everyone’s plans every time you’re gone for an extended period of time. You don’t have to worry though, I find ways to keep myself busy.” (Y/n) said, snuggling deeper into the covers.

“I won’t stay the extra days, I’ll email the professors right now.” Shinobu moved to get out of bed but (Y/n) pushed her back down and held her in place.

“No need for that. I don’t want you to skip out on opportunities to grow your research for me. See, this is why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“This is why you took me to the animal shelter, isn’t it? So you had something to keep you company whenever I’m away.” Shinobu asked despite already knowing the answer.

“I’ll admit that was kind of the idea. I just wanted to see if anything would catch your eye, but I didn’t keep any unrealistic expectations. I knew you wouldn’t like anything furry. I was kind of hoping to find a hairless cat or something.”

“(Y/n), you should have told me. I would have—“

“You would have settled on something just to make me happy. I wanted to find something we’d both like.” (Y/n) rested their head on the pillow just above Shinobu’s shoulder and nuzzled it with their nose, looping an arm over Shinobu they sighed pleasantly, “It’s really okay. I’d let you know if I thought otherwise. Good night, love you.”

“Love you.” Shinobu smiled, resting her head atop (Y/n)’s.

While (Y/n)’s breathing slowed and they drifted off into unconsciousness, Shinobu was wide awake. She gently drummed her fingers over (Y/n)’s side while she searched her mind for a solution that would leave them both satisfied. Shinobu had raised fish for a time, but you couldn’t really pick them up or interact with them like one would a more traditional pet.

Shinobu slowly scooted to lay upright against the headboard and took her phone off the charger, turning down the brightness a bit when the harsh light hit her eyes. She typed the shelter into her search bar and navigated through the site, trying to imagine herself getting along with any of the animals and failing miserably.

She was about to give up and go to sleep when curiosity got the best of her and she clicked the tag marked ‘miscellaneous’. She hadn’t realized the shelter cared for such unusual animals. Shinobu smiled down at her partner sleeping in oblivious bliss. Maybe this could work out after all.

The next morning, (Y/n) woke up to the smell of breakfast and lazily swiped their arm over the bed, searching in vain for the warmth of a body they knew couldn’t be there. With a tired whine, they resigned themself to getting up and stumbled into the kitchen.

“You’re up early.” (Y/n) yawned before giving Shinobu a quick peck on the cheek. “Something wrong at the pharmacy? The clinic? Leaving for Kyoto early?”

“Must there be something wrong in order for me to get up early?” Shinobu asked. To tell the truth, she hadn’t slept much at all; she was too busy researching to do so.

“No, it’s just that you prefer to sleep in when you don’t have plans.” (Y/n) said, moving to sit on top of the kitchen island.

“Oh, but I do have plans.” Shinobu cryptically corrected, standing between (Y/n)’s legs.

“You do, do you?” (Y/n) smiled, “do these plans involve me at all by chance?”

“In fact, they do.” Shinobu kissed (Y/n) before stepping back a bit to look them in the eyes. “So eat your breakfast and get dressed so we can head out.”

“Head out? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu finished their breakfast, showered and got dressed. Shinobu started up the car and they went off on their way. (Y/n) asked her a few more times for even just a hint but Shinobu simply smirked, holding a finger to her sealed lips.

She couldn’t keep the secret forever however, especially not after (Y/n) realized what road they just turned on.

“Shinobu, what are you doing?”

“Just trust me.”

“I trust you, but what are we doing back at the shelter?”

“Come with me and you’ll see.” Shinobu said, already getting out of the car.

(Y/n) unbuckled their seatbelt and quickly followed behind their partner, wondering just what idea could have gotten into Shinobu’s head. They managed to catch up to her just as she greeted the volunteer working the front desk.

“Good morning, we’re here to see Puppy.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu a weird look, but the doctor didn’t pay them much mind as the volunteer answered after a moment of confusion flashed in his eyes as well.

“Really? That’s wonderful! Come follow me to the back.” The young man said.

While the couple followed the volunteer to the back of the shelter, (Y/n) tried to figure out how they were going to dissuade Shinobu from picking out a dog just to please them. Shinobu couldn’t even remember to speak properly when thinking about it. I mean, ‘we’re here to see puppy’? Really? Not a puppy or the puppies just, puppy. She was really just going through the motions, wasn’t she?

“She’s right in there. She has her own little set up and everything. Poor thing was surrendered to us after her owner died of old age, but she seems to be adjusting well. Serve her up a nice big platter of salad and she’ll never forget it.” The jolly volunteer disclosed.

The previous owner died, had they? That was so sad. (Y/n) frowned at the thought. The salad comment got to them however. What kind of dog would want a salad of all things?

“May we go in?” Shinobu asked.

“Sure. Let me know if you’ve got any questions. I’ll be back at the desk if you need me.” The helpful man said before making his way back down the hall.

Shinobu wasted no time in gently pulling the door open and taking a step inside, much to (Y/n)’s surprise. Shinobu ducked her head back out and motioned (Y/n) forward with a curl of her finger. (Y/n) was so confused. Shinobu looked genuinely excited to show her this particular puppy. With a slight delay, (Y/n) followed her in and looked for the dog that had somehow managed to win over their Shinobu’s heart. Their eyes roamed around the room for a moment, they blinked, and nearly broke their neck with the force they used to turn their head back to the shape that had caught their eye.

“No way.” They breathed out.

“What do you think?” Shinobu asked, moving to crouch beside the large tortoise.

“That, that’s not a puppy.” (Y/n) stated dumbly, too shocked to say much else.

“Her name is Puppy. She’s a Sulcata, or an African Spurred Tortoise. Cute, isn’t she?” Shinobu softly stroke the tortoise’s head with her finger.

“She’s massive.” (Y/n) blinked. Perhaps they were still sleeping and this was all just a dream.

“Yes, the biography they had on the website said she’s a little over one-hundred-twenty pounds. She shouldn’t grow much more if at all though, she’s well over eighty years old. Your previous caretaker took really good care of you, huh?” Shinobu said, patting Puppy’s carapace as the giant reptile slowly scooted away.

“Eighty years... Shinobu, are you suggesting we adopt this grandma of a turtle?” (Y/n) watched attentively as Puppy scooted across the floor.

“Tortoise, (Y/n). And yes, I am. She may have more years than the two of us combined, but she could very easily live another sixty years with the proper care and attention.”

“Are we even equipped to give her that? I don’t think we could even pick her up? Like, how would we even get her home and where would we put her?”

“If we decide to adopt her, there plenty of ways to safely transport her. We can set up an enclosure in the back yard and let her roam around the house. We’ll have to keep an eye on her of course, but I’ve heard she’s quite well behaved.”

(Y/n) stared at Shinobu with awe. Never would they have thought Shinobu would speak so passionately about such an unusual animal unless it cultivated its own poison or was some kind of insect. They shook their head and smiled.

“You know,” they said, crouching down to stroke Puppy’s scaly leg, “an actual dog would be easier to take care of, relatively speaking.”

“Do you not like the idea?” Shinobu asked.

“Oh no, I was just wondering if we get divorced when we’re like, eighty, who gets Puppy?” (Y/n) laughed and rubbed their arm, Shinobu had punched it a little harder than she had meant to.

They took some time to get to know Puppy, feeding her some leafy greens from her veggie platter and petting her carapace. It didn’t take long for them to become completely enamored with the old gal.

They met up with the man at the front desk again and filled out an adoption form. It would take a couple days to be processed but Puppy was as good as theirs. They quickly made their way back home to continue their research and completed all the preparations to make the house and yard tortoise friendly.

A couple days later, and the adoption went through. The couple was elated and rushed to pick up the new addition of their family and bring her home. It was a bit tricky, but they made it without any complications.

They let Puppy settle in and explore the yard enclosure first before slowly guiding her to the house with collard greens and cabbage. As they sat in the middle of their living room with the foot and a half long tortoise, Shinobu found herself wishing she could just cancel her Kyoto trip altogether.

“This was a terrible idea. Now I never want to leave the house.” She sighed.

“Aww, it’s like Puppy is your baby. Your very old baby.” (Y/n) said, feeding Puppy another leaf.

“We never did discuss if we were going to give her a new name.” Shinobu thought suddenly. “Any thoughts?”

“Nah, I like Puppy. It’s cute. Besides, she’s had that name for almost a century, it doesn’t seem right to change it now.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that sentiment.” Shinobu nodded.

“You just want to tell Kanae we got a puppy and watch her face change as she realizes the truth, don’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Shinobu smiled mischievously.

***

When it came time for Shinobu to leave for Kyoto, she hugged (Y/n) close and kissed them sweetly.

“I’ll miss you.” She softly proclaimed.

“I’ll miss you too. I think Puppy will too.” (Y/n) said, looking down to watch Puppy step up to Shinobu’s foot. Most likely she was looking for a snack.

“I’ll miss you too, sweet girl!” Shinobu hummed, couching down to give Puppy a quick rubdown. “You and (Y/n) take good care of each other while I’m gone, okay?”

Puppy closed her eyes, enjoying the attention Shinobu gave. Shinobu returned to her full height and gave (Y/n) another kiss before grabbing her travel bag and heading for the front door. Before she was fully out of the house, she turned back and smiled at (Y/n).

“I almost forgot to tell you. I texted Kanae about Puppy. Expect her sometime today, she can’t wait to meet her,” Shinobu waved her phone at (Y/n), “try to catch her reaction and send it to me. I really wish I held off on telling her until after I got back.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Be safe.” (Y/n) waved in return, already well aware of what Shinobu had in mind for her unsuspecting sister.

“I will. I’ll call you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you,” (Y/n) watched Shinobu leave before looking back down at Puppy. “Come on, Puppy. Let’s go outside.”

They led Puppy to the backyard with some cabbage and set her up with some hay and other enrichment materials. It was maybe an hour later when (Y/n) heard movement from inside the house. Instead of panicking, they remembered what Shinobu had said and got their phone ready. Just as they hit record, Kanae slid the back door open and jogged over to (Y/n) with Kanao calmly closing the door behind her. Apparently Kanae had convinced her to tag along.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced her to get a puppy! How did you do it?” Kanae started in on (Y/n) immediately. “Where is the puppy? Shinobu wouldn’t send me any pictures.”

“Well...”

“...That’s not a puppy.”

(Y/n) and Kanae turned to Kanao who was staring down at Puppy as she snapped at some hay. (Y/n) turned their phone back just in time to catch Kanae’s double take and the journey of her expression from disbelief to acceptance.

“I should have known it wasn’t that simple!” She groaned, “(Y/n), what did you two do?”

“We got a sulcata tortoise from the animal shelter. Her name is Puppy,” (Y/n) noticed how mesmerized Kanao was by the reptile and grinned, “she’s really gentle, you can feed her some greens from that bucket if you’d like, Kanao.”

Kanao nodded, taking a big, leafy bok choy and offering it to the tortoise with bright, attentive eyes. The youngest sister did not seem the least bit disappointed by Shinobu’s farce.

“I can’t believe her! I should have seen this coming, Shinobu has detested furry things all her life, but this is like a literal dinosaur!” Kanae sighed and shook her head, “She really got me good.”

A moment later, and the eldest Kochou sibling realized (Y/n) had recorded the whole encounter.

“(Y/n), don’t send that! Don’t give her the satisfaction!” Kanae pouted, reaching for the phone.

“I’m sorry! She asked me to before she left.”

“You don’t need to do all of your partner’s dirty work. Come on, please?”

“Already sent.” (Y/n) said, a sympathetic smile tugged at their lips.

Kanae frowned and narrowed her eyes, reminding (Y/n) heavily of Shinobu. It was a look (Y/n) seldom saw on the usually cheery woman.

“Fine then. I’m going to pet that tortoise now, hopefully she’s more well mannered than her caretakers.” Kanae turned her nose up on (Y/n) and joined Kanao in gently patting Puppy.

(Y/n)’s phone buzzed and they looked down, Shinobu had answered quickly it seemed. A simple, ‘yes!’ with a couple variants of laughing emojis. But another message soon followed reading, ‘When I come back, we’re getting Mitsuri next.’

(Y/n) exhaled an amused sound and prepared themself for Shinobu to come back from her trip. They knew that once she returned, Shinobu would continue to pull the same joke about Puppy to all their friends and family until no one remained unaware.

[official-wonho]

[INTERVIEW] Wonho And The Infinite Blue

If you grew up in India, during the ’90s or in decades preceding that time, there’s a good chance you’ve come across a blue inland letter. It might be an almost forgotten form of communication now, but that humble one-sheet, foldable form flew across every part of the country, from the biggest cities to the smallest villages. This writer was in boarding school, high up in the Himalayas, aged 10, and would curl up every week to write home. That blue letter was always filled with the love and longing that came from a very young, wistful heart, sitting far away from family. Wonho was told this story, as we sat down across time zones on Zoom to discuss his latest E.P, Blue Letter — a name that triggered these bittersweet memories. As he listened, intently, his expression was a mixture of sincerity, understanding and endearment. It’s very clear that this is someone who really gets the poignancy of emotion. “Woah! Thank you so much for sharing that story,” Wonho smiled. “It actually makes me really glad that I have this album coming out.”

Sincerity is an adjective that is so particular to Wonho — something his loyal fanbase WeNee (short for We Are New Ending) will attest to. It’s evident in the music he makes; he’s deeply committed to production, lyrics and performance in equal parts. Wonho is an acclaimed artiste in a musical landscape that isn’t just confined to South Korea — the artistes who dominate that industry are bonafide global stars, and for good reason. He’s been solo since departing from Monsta X in 2019 for reasons that have been amply and unequivocally cleared and put to rest. Wonho’s debut EP, Love Synonym Pt. 1: Right For Me released in September 2020, with the sexy, crisp title track, Open Mind. It also featured Losing You, which is an intimate, heartfelt missive to his fans. The E.P’s second half, Love Synonym Pt. 2: Right For Us arrived in February this year — a triumph, arranged across genres. There was a fantastic, audacious collaboration with singer-songwriter Kiiara called Ain’t About You, and Lose, the opener, had Wonho flexing his abilities as a singer and producer in an entirely new light. Each offering provided a new definition of love — freedom, hope, new beginnings.

Blue Letter provides deeper insight into Wonho’s heart and mind. This isn’t a new era for him, though. He has an entirely different take on the K-industry definition of a comeback — where both image and style follow a particular concept. “Instead of me coming into a new era, I think it's like my endless story. It's my music. My music is my endless story. So, instead of me establishing an era per se, I think it's just a continuous process,” he explains, sitting comfortably, breaking often into an easy smile, dressed in a simple black shirt and leather jacket, blonde hair highlighting his almost poreless skin. His album art also hints at the episodic nature of his sonic voyage. Both parts of Love Synonym had blue sleeves, all in different shades, as does this mini album. “When I look at my fans, they remind me of the colour blue. I just see the colour when I look at them. So that has become kind of like my signature colour. So, I've been using blue in my albums as well. And, for this album, I want it to convey my genuine feelings and I thought blue was the perfect colour to do so,” he states, describing blue as the personification of his current state of mind; ruminations he’s arrived at, through the last two years.

Think of a blue ocean, connecting every single one of us, across continents. It separates us, echoing a sense of isolation and loneliness. But the ocean also symbolises a need to dive into adventure, into experiences — the great, infinite blue. That, in a nutshell, is the sense Wonho wants to convey with Blue Letter. It’s a grateful letter, of sorts, to life, music and his fans, linking all these beautiful metaphors and ideas together, like a cypher. “Being thankful and loving my fans are just the basics of my state of mind. But then, again, through the album, I want to show a more genuine side of me by talking about my feelings and my thoughts. I hope that it could both encourage my fans and give them courage,” he says, summarising the central message. Consider the introduction — Seasons and Patterns. It sets the tone, illustrating waves of time, through piano keys that swell up and wash over the listener. “I think through my Intro: Seasons and Patterns, I can really show different feelings such as when I wrote the songs for Love Synonym Pt. 1 and Pt. 2. I wanted to convey that there's an expression … like patterns in love,” he muses. “Like if there were patterns in love, how would that sound in music? I wanted to express that in the Intro. And the overarching theme of the whole album is love, so I thought it was the right start to start the album.”

Blue, the focus track, asks the question, “Can you feel, feel the blue?” When people usually talk about “feeling blue”, they’re usually referring to feeling low, sad or depressed, linking to the sense of isolation mentioned above. In Wonho’s world though, the lyrics take on a more hopeful tone, opening with, “Diving into the blindingly bright blue. Don’t stop me. I’m fine, enjoying this feeling...:” Providing context, he says, “So yes, feeling blue means feeling depressed, right? I wanted to talk about feeling depressed and how it's important to accept it as is and then seize it, when you can. I want to talk about that attitude through my title track, Blue. I want to say that you're not alone if you ever feel blue or depressed.” It’s a beautiful thought; a way to honour dreams and rise above negativity.

Read full interview on femina.in

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (14)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Note: The lyrics of the song your eyes tell by BTS used in this chapter is NOT translated by me. It is composed/covered by  genuis english  translation and Jess A. Please consider listening to their music here. They’re a great singer! A line from Agust D’s 140503 at Dawn is also used in this update.

Warnings: blood, physical violence

***This is a super short chapter. JJK is just reflecting hehe

SERIES: CHAPTER 13 | FINAL CHAPTER

The blood in Jeongguk's lower lip was mocking him—telling him that once again, he fucked up.

Or at least this was what Park Jimin thought.

"So that's it, huh?" Your best friend rarely resort to violence—wait. This was wrong. Violence was never an option for Jimin, but he was making an exception tonight.

"You're just going to give up on her?" The older boy grabbed the collar of your soulmate's shirt.

Jimin was so mad he swore he could beat Jeongguk to a pulp.

How could Jeongguk be this dumb?

Jimin heard your conversation with your soulmate just a few breaths ago. He didn't plan to eavesdrop, it just happened.

Yoongi was the first one to know what happened to you. He was adamant to let you leave a while ago. He just had this weird feeling in his stomach that told him to check up on you.

His nightmare became a reality when he saw Jimin and Taehyung making out on the couch. You weren't with them and it only meant one thing: you left alone.

Yoongi was so mad at himself. He should have called you an uber or he should have driven you to wherever the hell you wanted to go.

This was partly his fault that's why he couldn't help but shudder in fear and regret when one of his staffs told him about what happened to you.

Police officers said you were under the influence of alcohol. Yoongi already knew this, but Taehyung and Jimin were still shocked.

They had no idea you left.

It actually took the three of them a long time to know what had happened to you. By the time they reached the hospital, they were already too late.

Jeongguk managed to make you cry over and over again.

What an asshole.

What kind of soulmate was Jeongguk? Were you really meant to be together? These questions were running inside your best friend's head. It had been answered when Jeongguk suddenly pushed Jimin away.

He wiped the blood in his bottom lip, smirking at his hyung.

"Who said I'm giving up on her?"

Jimin's jaw dropped. Jeongguk’s voice is full of confidence and determination.

"Y-You’re not?"

"No." Your soulmate said firmly. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Not when he was sure about what he felt for you, not when you needed him the most, and definitely not when you were giving up on him.

No. He should fight when you couldn't.

"Good," your best friend released a breath. He hated your soulmate for hurting you, but Jimin also knew that you loved Jeongguk—even if you told him otherwise.

This was the sad thing about the existence of soulmate that Jimin despised. The encouraging reminders like 'You should learn to love yourself,' and 'you don't need your soulmate to be happy,' would not apply.

It helped, yes. But your world was different. It would always feel like a part of you was missing when your soulmate didn’t love you back.

Humans were made to love and to feel loved. This reminded Jimin of the neon signage that's plastered on Genius Lab: I'm the island in this vast ocean, don't abandon me. This was Min Yoongi's idea. The bar owner always told him and everyone (really) that people were like island—they were able to provide—to extend their hands in this cold world.

They should never be abandoned because like any other things, they needed to be taken care of too.

"But what are you planning to do?" Jimin creased his forehead.

Jeongguk didn't even bat an eyelash when you told him to let you go. This was what annoyed Jimin. How could your soulmate be so silent about this? Why did he simply leave when you told him to go?

In Jeongguk's defense, he just didn't want to upset you any longer. He was aware that his presence was stressing you out. You should rest, especially because there's possibility that you might need to undergo an eye surgery.

Jeongguk's heart clenched once again. You were blind and you thought it was because he hated you.

It’s not true and he would change your mind.

"Seriously, Guk?" Taehyung shook his head, scowling. "This is your and my fiancé’s idea?"

"Don't get mad at Jimin-hyung. It's my idea." Jeongguk corrected his best friend. "Your soulmate is just helping me."

It had been days since the accident and you were aware that Jeongguk had been by your side all this time, not really by your side, per se, but he was around. He was patiently waiting outside of your room in this hospital, begging Jimin and your other loved ones to tell him what he could to help.

Today was the only time he left the hospital, as in the same day of your eye surgery.

Jeongguk swore he's not running away this time though. He was actually going to let you know that he would be staying with you. Forever.

"I can't let you do this, Jeon. I'm gonna lose my job if you fuck this one up!" Taehyung groaned.

"Hyung, please. This is really important!" Jeongguk was nervous. He was running out of time. Your surgery was in a few minutes and here he was, invading the studio where Taehyung worked as a DJ.

"This is going to be aired on national radio, Guk. As in the whole South Korea!"

"I know!" Jeongguk's eyes were blown wide. "This is exactly why I want to do this, hyung. I want everyone to know how I feel!"

If you couldn’t see, then maybe you could understand Jeongguk’s feelings by listening. He was willing to explore other senses just to make you believe.

"Fucking sappy!" In the end, Taehyung had no choice but to let his best friend proclaim his love for you.

Jeongguk smiled as he tapped the microphone, softly calling your name.

"It's Jeongguk. I know you don't want to hear from me, but I have something to say." Jeongguk grimaced. He seriously sucked when it came to expressing his emotions through words. "This will be quick, I promise. I just hope Jiminie-hyung is actually helping me out."

"Of course he is!" Taehyung shouted somewhere. Jimin wouldn't dare to ruin this for you. His task was simple anyway. He only needed to make sure that you were listening to the radio a few moments before your eye surgery.

You were nervous. Jimin wanted to help you calm down by making sure that you knew Jeongguk was not going to leave you alone in the cold.

"Anyway I know that I...well...I," your soulmate blushed. How should he describe himself? Was there a word that could emphasize his stupidity?

"I am an idiot." Jeongguk bit the inside of his cheek. This was the only adjective he could think of. "I am the idiot who hurt you and I know, I know...I don’t deserve your forgiveness because of how selfish I was—I mean, am. I still am."

He chuckled nervously. His heart was hammering.

"Call me selfish or whatever you want. I'm sure I deserve it anyway, but yeah...I'll be selfish again if this is the only way to let you know what I really feel about you."

Jeongguk cleared his throat as the beat of the music started to play.

"Why are my eyes filled with tears?” He sang.

This was a song composed by him. Of course he couldn't do this alone. Namjoon was the one who produced the beat of this song. He also helped his brother-in-law to write the lines. Ji-eun's father was a lyrical genius.

"Hey, stay by my side and laugh.” Jeongguk knew he was asking for too much. It was impossible to simply smile and stay with him—not after the hell he had put you through.

"A future without you is a world without color, filled with monochrome coldness." But this was the exact representation of what would happen if you weren't in his life.

Life would literally be black and white. Dull. Jeongguk knew how essential colors were in his life, yet if he was forced to choose between the hues and you, he would choose you in a heartbeat.

"Even the darkness we see is so beautiful. Please believe me."

Darkness was the absence of light. You were Jeongguk’s light. His life would be dark if you were not around.

He also knew you were going through the darkest time of your life, so he wanted this moment to still be beautiful.

He wanted you to believe that every hardship would pay off. You just had to believe.

"Looking only directly at you, so you don't go away"

Jeongguk wrote this line many months ago. It wasn't even meant to be lyrics to a song. These were simply the words he incorporated in his art.

Jeongguk was a soft person. He usually put cheesy captions in his paintings and drawings—the things he usually couldn’t verbalize.

"Whatever lies in the way of you and me. I'll just keep looking at the future of you and I."

It didn't matter that you lost hope. Jeongguk was sure he would make you believe in love again.

"Shadows of the past keep chasing me everywhere I go, and they try to keep ahold of me and till this day they follow me."

He would try to let go of his hurtful past. Those things didn't matter because he could always make good memories with you.

"Even though it seems to be the start of the end I'll call you and shout out your name."

He would be the hope in your relationship. This might be the end for you; however, Jeongguk was just starting.

Starting to accept the soulmate bond.

"I'll become your eyes to the world and for whatever we may face."

Starting to show you how much you meant to him.

He was willing to become your eyes if you didn't recover from this instantly. He would guide you until you could see again.

"One day all of this, this sadness that we share will bring us together."

The sadness would be over soon. You would see again;

Because Jeon Jeongguk was sure. He loved you and...

"Your eyes will tell."

[ohheyitsokay]

concessions

part 2 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francesco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.4k

warnings: none (yet)

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU - trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, you run into the guys outside of the stadium and they promptly decide you’re going to be friends with them.

>>

Your friend was twelve minutes late. Not overly long but you could already tell what was going to happen.

It had been a long shot, anyway, an old classmate with little lasting connection. You had been trying to push yourself outside of your comfort zone anyway, why not? When she had originally reached out you’d been full of hope, enough to foolishly order your favorite appetizer as a ice breaker but the effort was in vain.

Fingernails gently clicking against the table, you caved and allowed yourself to look at your phone. It brought instant comfort, to escape the exposure of sitting alone in a restaurant, but you couldn’t stay. The air was cold as you sucked it through your teeth, weighing your options. The confidence it took to eat alone after being stood up was facing a strong competitor: your general policy not to waste good food and good money.

Shifting, you tried to settle, tried to pose yourself like you were in control, looking around the room as nonchalantly as you could. It was silly, your urge to keep moving, your feet on the ground, your hands on the table, your eyes on the other patrons, but you couldn’t help it. It was a nice place, nothing fancy, just a hole in the wall restaurant, filled only with a few locals.

Until your appetizer came around the corner, followed by a much more handsome man than you were prepared for.

His already smiling eyes met yours, and you looked away, startled, maybe blushing a little. He was familiar, too familiar. You tried to focus on the young lady waiting on you, and the steam coming from the plate in her hands.

Just focus on the food, you scolded yourself silently, thanking her and not ordering anything else. He was not your friend, he didn’t even know you, really. There was no need to make him feel uncomfortable.

Except, he wasn’t really worried about that, because he was sliding into the seat across from you.

“Hi,” he was grinning, confident and friendly, and your instincts raised no alarms other than confusion.

“Hello,” you replied, wondering honestly if you were dreaming. This was one of the men you’d met before, in that chaotic, over decorated room in the baseball stadium. He had been in front of you maybe fifteen total seconds, talking to James, before melting back into the sea of uniforms and caps. There was no reason he should remember you much less… be doing whatever was happening now.

The man mistook your expression for panicked forgetfulness and reintroduced himself.

“I’m Ben, Ben Miller? We met a a week or two ago,” he was searching your face for recognition, which of course was not the problem at all. It was sweet, how bashful he was when he pointed to the picture of the team’s logo on the poster by your table, and mouthed “the shortstop?”.

It seemed like he wasn’t trying to draw extra attention to himself, which was almost comical. Even with his casual tshirt and jeans he was easily the most noticeable person in the room – that’s how good he looked, and a testament to the visible confidence of men like him. He was all limber muscles and strong jaw and kind eyes and it wasn’t easy to just tuck that away.

“I – yeah,” this was awkward. “I’m sorry for staring at you, I just don’t normally see … non-locals here.” You smiled, weakly.

There was something in his voice and a glint in his eyes as his blue eyes glanced behind you.

“Would you believe it if I said we were locals?”

All of a sudden his looks were commonplace, because there was another man next to him who was a little broader and a little rougher around the edges- but surprisingly similar in casual masculinity. The “we" clicked into place.

“What’s this?” the first-baseman said, his expression more or less mirroring your own.

A handful of other men followed him and you wanted to melt into the chair. It was too much, too weird. They were all peering at you, dark eyebrows and cool toned cloth stretched over broad chests and it was the most bizarre thing. You weren’t really shy, per se, but stuff like this didn’t happen to you. Fidgeting you stared back at them, feeling helpless.

Ben came to your rescue again, guilty, but far too friendly to stop, like runaway dog at a park.

“I was just telling her that Will and I are from town! And we love it here,” he grinned, winningly, still failing to explain why he was seated with you.

Their hellos were amused and charismatic, for the most part, save the man in the back. It was… Francisco. Or rather, Mr. Morales.

Your heart thumped the same thump that you’d been feeling whenever you thought of him.

His voice was quieter, eyes reaching into yours like he had questions to ask, before he fixed them on the surroundings instead. They were crowding the area, all tall and much to large to fit in between tables. It would have been annoying if this were a busier place.

“You guys go on, I’ll be right there,” the shortstop across from you ushered them away, out of politeness or something else you weren’t sure. It was sad, to see him go again but the absence of attention made you breathe again. You waved, sure you looked ridiculous, and wondering if other women would be dying to be in your stead.

“Sorry, I just wanted to say hi,” Ben seemed earnest again, and you couldn’t help but relax. It was charming, the way his eyebrows dipped and he fidgeted, just a little. “You looked… lonely,” he added, hesitating before standing up with a gentle slap to the table. “Come join us if they don’t show, I’m sure the guys wont mind!”

You nodded, still more or less in shock, and he walked off, strides long and easy, like there was hardly anything weighing on his shoulders.

If they hadn’t been but 20 paces away, you would have shoved the plate aside and replaced its spot on the table with your face, and groaned aloud. You barely registered your food as you ate, wondering at the whole thing in awe as you took out your phone again to text James.

-

Frankie tried not to watch you. He really did. He loved his friends and they seldom got a chance, just the five of them to eat somewhere so homey and casual, without the whole crew, or fans and cameras, or other things to attend to. They’d been close for a long time, happy they enjoyed one another and trusted one another more than the rest of the team. It was what made them so good in the starting lineup – their communication and comradery off field translated into their game.

For awhile he was doing well. He wasn’t watching as you finished your food, hardly noticed the way your hands ran through your hair, barely registered when you stood up, brushing crumbs off your legs, and walked towards the front to pay.

But he did notice when you slid over to their table and… he couldn’t tear his eyes away as your hand touched Benny's shoulder. The movement was smooth and gentle and there was a sharp feeling in his gut.

“Thanks for before,” your voice was quite, more composed than before, now that your feet were under you properly. It wasn’t meant for him, wasn’t his to hear, but he listened anyway. The group was seated at one of those round corner booths, and really, there was no escaping it – they were on the ends.

Benny was saying no problem and Frankie took a long sip of his drink trying to cool down before he was choking on it as his friend invited you to join.

The idea of you sitting here was… a double edged sword. On one side, the chance to talk to you, be around you even in the low lights of the restaurant neons – was too good to be true. His daydreams of you hadn’t slowed down nearly as much as he had hoped after you were gone. And on the other… of all the men here, he didn’t stand much of a chance. The flicker of warmth your little wave had given him began to fade and he tried too late to get in control of his facial expressions as you considered the offer.

When Redfly reached across Ben, though, shoving the younger man to grab your hand, suppressing the growl in his throat was more important than the glare. Next to him, Pope eyes were sharp, catching everything unsaid. His friend was as tense as he was, feeling the charged energy fill the booth.

Some ridiculous part of Frankie was wanting to pull you away, tuck you under his arm, and keep you all to himself. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t. He didn’t even know your name.

Then Will was pulling Tom back with laughter that didn't reach his eyes and Santi was apologizing, saying smooth words and coaxing you to reintrodunce yourself and pull up a chair and hang out.

Frankie would never know how Pope was so good at these things, how his passion made other people relent and reconsider and made them feel safe, but he was grateful for it. He tucked your name away, sure he wouldn’t forget it again. Especially because you pulled your chair up by him, and his heart swelled with something akin to pride as you leaned towards him, more than even Ben.

It could have been politeness, making room for the waitress, it could have been a coincidence, or that you wanted to be further from Tom, but he could quite bring himself to care. Having you close felt good, so much better than it should’ve, given the circumstances.

Even more than normal athletes, the Miller boys ate like they were hollow, and had ordered enough food for a week. There was plenty of talk and teasing and tossing of rolls, and it took you no time at all to settle in.

You found out you had some mutual acquaintances with Will, which helped, as you launched into comparisons of the town and laughed over shared observations. It made you feel at home, with him and Ben, and you understood how the brothers made everyone feel like family. Apparently there was girl Benny liked, who worked with the team’s athletic trainers. None of the boys had wheeled it out of him, but it took you less than fifteen minutes, your smile brighter as you sorted through his intentions.

Santi had a quick tongue, and you matched it. There was respect in his eyes as you leveled with Redfly, efficiently and effectively putting him back in his place. The older man head leaned back, nonchalantly, with raised eyebrows and low whistle, but Pope knew when Tom was embarrassed. There was an almost indiscernible bite onto the inside of the outfielder’s lower lip, a child’s tell.

He watched everyone, really, especially Frankie. They’d been playing together the longest and saw the best and worst of each other. It was fun, for him to watch his friend watch you. When you puckered your lips to suck a bead of water off your finger, Frankie’s jaw twitched. Like he was thinking of tilting his cheek towards you as you leaned in to kiss it – and Santi grinned, the gears in his mind turning.

For being as confused and awkward as you were before, it was crazy how well you fit.

Frankie liked your laugh, easy and pure, and the glint in your eyes when someone said something clever. He liked how friendly you were, even to Tom, and how you treated them like people. You never once stepped into the role of flirtatiously asking about the sport – or about being professional athletes all, and it was a breath of fresh air. Most outsiders would have their fingers tracing the curves of the muscles on Pope's arm as they asked him about pitching or would be tugging down the necklines of their shirts as they tried to be subtle about salaries. He liked how you talked about the food, asked them what they were up to that day, and actually listened when they answered. It was graceful, more that even Ironhead’s throw, how you managed to give each one of them attention, without controlling the conversation.

What Frankie liked best of all, though, was when yours eyes would meet his. They were narrow with laughter, and it was almost as if he were an hour away from know exactly what you were thinking. You’d lean towards him, just a hair, and under the thrum of conversations you would tell him little things, jokes or confessions like you were the best of friends.

When you murmured, “I actually don’t know anything about baseball,” he choked on his drink again, mind filled with unreachable moments. The boys were laughing at him, but he ignored it because they hadn’t heard you and... he could almost feel it – you against his chest as he showed how to swing a bat, your hand in his as he leaned in close, explaining, and him spinning you around in a victory hug.

All too soon the plates were being cleared and everyone was arguing over who should be paying. It made them smile, how earnestly you were offering, but there was no way in hell. 

You thanked them all verbally, but when Santi ended up paying, he got a quick peck on the cheek and that sharp feeling in Frankie’s gut returned with force.

As you left, before they could walk you out, you cherished the experience like a drop of honey on your tongue, confident this was a once in a life time thing, and excited to tell James about it. Of course you had texted him – he was the one who told you if you didn’t sit with them he’d never forgive you.

Then men behind you continued to talk, each silently thinking of their own reasons for being sure they’d see you again soon.

And when you walked past the window by the corner on the way to your car, a pair of deep brown eyes found yours through the glass. You waved, goodbye, and this time, the ache in your heart was aligned with the ache in his.

Thank goodness that old classmate never showed up.

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